Pissing in the Wind

Posts I Should Make...

2011-02-10T23:35:00.003Z

Why Plot is a Dirty Word

The Trouble with Wanting to Win

Fucking Media Crushes

Snowed in by Admin

I Need to Sleep to be Creative

On Never Following Through

Those Half-Developed Ideas that Should be Awesome... if Only They'd Get Done.

I Need More Storage!

The First Valentine's Day That's Good for Anything (and not for that)

Closure

2010-12-18T00:23:00.000Z

Shit word. Good feeling.

I'm broke...

2010-12-13T18:23:00.002Z

But not destitute.

I bought a house. Exchanged contracts today, complete a week on Wednesday.

Job done.

Today is one of those days

2010-12-12T12:22:00.003Z

As soon as I woke up this morning I knew. I knew today was not going to be a good day.

My mind got stuck in certain loops of thought, ones I would rather not visit right now - or indeed ever. This has been followed up by everything I try to do failing, and technology failing and my thought spiral getting worse not better.

Today is not supposed to be like this. I had a pre-exchange meeting with my financial advisor yesterday, to dot the i and cross the t of my mortgage offer. All of which means that tomorrow, when I go to see my solicitor, I should be able to sign contracts and arrange transfer of funds to get to the point of exchange. The putative completion date is 22 December - I should feel excited, looking forward but from the very first moment of wakefulness that has been ruined.

Fuck.

I feel as though life has kicked me in the nuts...

2010-12-02T17:05:00.005Z

Repeatedly. And then punched me in the gut for good measure.

I might be getting better - no, really - but hope is a bitch, or in the words of Nick Hornby, sung by Ben Folds:

"You know what hope is?
Hope is a bastard;
Hope is a liar, a cheat, and a tease.
Hope comes near you; kick its backside.
Got no place in days like these." - Picture Window

Hope is fled now, but it leaves a vacuum that only time can fill. And a sense of loss, that something broke that may be irretrievable.

I'm on the verge of buying a house. It's a nice place, not too far from work, not much needing doing and nearer friends. It'll be my own space, I can spread out, dedicate rooms to functions of living and generally improve my home life. It's exciting, almost exhilarating - I'm truly looking forward to it. With any luck, by this time next week I will have exchanged contracts and everything, all set for a completion date before Christmas.

Yet the excitement, whilst there, is distant. Instead I have the same old worries rattling around my brain - the ones I have never managed to banish, despite trying to accept them, despite trying to deny them, despite willing them away.

OK, its only natural to be disappointed at rejection. I know that I am better for it, for having taken the chance, than had I cowered from it and watched it go sailing by. It's less natural that one such incident should plunge me headlong back into the self doubt that has me convinced that this lovely new house (or any other) will never be filled by anyone but me. I'd like to say it's less convincing this time, but for all that I keep a kernel of hope inside me that prevents the blackest of nights, I also possess the pessimism of of a true cynic, so it is just as bad as ever.

More temporary though, I hope. Counselling is on the horizon; an opportunity perhaps to address this self doubt, self deprecation and self delusion. A chance, maybe, to build some confidence, to find things that work for me, to learn how to express myself in person like I am able to in text. A moment, perchance, to be able to say things myself rather than relying on other people's music and lyrics as above.

But right now? It seems awfully fitting that the snippet posted above comes from an album entitled "Lonely Avenue" - as I'm living there, new house or no. I'm at my lowest ebb for a long time. I keep landing on my feet, but the ground beneath them is about to give way and the worst thing is I did most of the undermining myself.

My fears were unfounded

2010-11-30T17:35:00.003Z

Despite significant wobbles, England pulled together and ended up snatching a domineering draw from the jaws of defeat.

But what is clear is that my studious not listening on Saturday evening (well, early Sunday morning) must have contributed to the good second innings showing. I simply must not listen to another ball, and the series is in the bag...

Superstition is a strange thing!

Oh dear, here we go again...

2010-11-25T00:04:00.002Z

The first over of the 2010/11 Ashes and we're already 0-1.

I think I'll go to bed and save myself the hassle.

Adrift on a raft in the river of life

2010-11-17T09:11:00.008Z

Whilst life passes by on the banks.

So something has happened that prompted me to write again, however briefly. Yesterday I broke a long duck - and it broke me back, albeit in a nice and polite way and overall much more.... pleasantly than expected. However it was expected.

I'm no good with life, I'm no good with people, and occasions that make me interested in other people are few and far between. Yesterday I grasped for a branch to maybe pull myself a little closer to the shore where everyone else seems to hang out and have fun, knowing full well it would likely pull out of my hands as the current swept me by. This may not sound significant but even two months ago I would have foregone that slight chance at rescue, accepting my fate and preserving the skin on my hands.

However the whole situation put me in mind of Bryan Lee O'Malley's excellent Lost at Sea - a comic about an 18 year old girl that sums up this 30 year old man far, far better than it should. I have a sudden burning desire to read it again, but my copy is back in the UK and I won't be able to lay hands on it for another 5 days. The title alone rather sums up life in my head - I can't see land or anyone else, let alone make contact, and previous attempts have been so disastrous I have more or less forgotten how to try. You should read it too, it really is excellent. Everyone has been there at one time or another. Cogent criticism escapes me now, but as someone who has, by a certain way of thinking, been 18 for 12 years that is only to be expected.

So titling at yesterday's windmill was a success of sorts, despite the inevitable failure. Rebuilding takes time - time I may not have, but time I have to try to find - the isolation alone is killing me, an acute pain with chronic duration and one I have never managed to overcome, despite building some pretty formindable walls.

Rambling now, not making sense - much like the thoughts in my mind and the inevitable self-destruction that comes with my innate over-analysis. I'm trying to do, not think; to not regret and to be better for it. I'm failing at first, but practice makes perfect, right?

Right?

Also I overuse ellipses

2010-05-08T09:31:00.002+01:00

That is all.

I am a ball of conflicting emotions...

2010-05-07T14:06:00.002+01:00

My life is so dull that nothing ever happens, yet this leaves me all turned about: rarely do truly bad things happen, but equally neither does anything genuinely good (everything, it seems, has complications).

I want to run and correct my mistakes, yet also to cringe and hide from them until they are finally forgotten. I want to be elsewhere and yet never go there again. I want to pack up and move on but want, too, to cling on to the last vestiges of memory.

I hate my weekends yet want them to last forever. I lack for things to do but need the dead time to recover. Most of all, I want to be able to sleep - on the basis that if I were more rested then things would look brighter. Two incredibly disturbed nights sleep on and I'm a wreck - angry, sad, tearful, apathetic and hopeless.

I'm back in the rut, and sinking into the soft mud of the tread so any view over the side is fading fast.

And a shitty election result doesn't help.

What the hell is wrong with me?

2010-04-25T22:42:00.003+01:00

I have never believed in love at first sight, yet somehow I appear to have left my heart a continent away with a girl I hardly know, and who is far too young for me, a month ago and it still burns to my core.

I fluffed my lines at the time, and I accepted that - my bad, typical and expected, annoying but live-able with. I did not expect the desire to persist over 2 weeks after I left, knowing that I will not hear from her or see her... for a long while at least, if ever.

The wrong idea can go a long way, and this flame deosn't feel ready to die, however convenient that would be. I'm hostage to my own fallability here, my own weaknesses. On the one hand I want to let it go, pragmatically sensible and prudent, especially given the hopelessness of the situation. On the other I dearly want to cling to the one thing of late that has made me feel alive until the impossibility is confimred (as opposed to sitting at 99.99% recurring).

I need help.

My favourite albums of 2009

2010-01-01T11:38:00.003Z

So apparently I bought 50.7 hours of music released in 2009; 49.9 discounting re-issues, and 43.3 discounting compilations and best-ofs (but not disounting Aidan Moffat and the Best Ofs).

My top 10 albums in some kind of order were:

10. Jon Boden - Songs from the Floodplain

Second solo album from Bellowhead frontman Jon Boden - I've seen it described somewhere as folk tinged apocalyptica and its a description that fits as it is both bleak and full of influences from his folk roots. Boden is one of the most charismatic performers I've ever seen live and this does bleed through into his recordings too.

9. James Yorkston and the Big Eyes Family Players - Folk Songs

One of the albums I was really looking forward to last year - so much so I bought the special edition on pre-order, twice by mistake! (I gave one to my dad who is also a fan, but I am listed twice in the list of pre-orders included in the packaging). Didn't quite live up to my lofty expectations, but Yorkston is a genius performer and it's still a fine collection of tunes.

8. Regina Spektor - Far

The first Spektor album I bought (since picked up a few more) - there are some very strong songs on this release. I assume given she was amongst LastFM's top 40 most played artists of the year everyone else knows more about her than I do!

7. Neko Case - Middle Cyclone

Apart from the ridiculous space-filling insect noise repeat at the end of the disc this just blew me away on first listen. May have lost a little lustre on repeated re-visits but Case's voice and the haunting melodies she pairs it with remain a symbiotic partnership that rewards attention.

6. The Leisure Society - The Sleeper

A really charming little release that I owe LastFM for. Tracks like A Short Weekend Begins with Longing and The Last of the Melting Snow have a genuine warmth and appeal to the softer, less cynical side of me.

5. Jon Hopkins - Insides

Hopkins is dificult to describe. I loved Opalescent, was less taken with Contact Note, love some of his production work. Insides is a strong work, less accessible than Opalescent but worth the effort in the end. Wire alone could almost have got this album into this list - probably my favourite track of 2009.

4. Emmy the Great - First Love (bonus tracks)

Missed all but 5 minutes of her at Indietracks in the summer - big mistake that I would rectify if it were possible. Deliciously painful in places but a high quality piece of work nonetheless, even if I do have to be in a limited range of moods for listening to be viable.

3. Julie Fowlis - Uam

Voice of an angel, traditional music at its finest. I can't say too much more about Fowlis without understating.

2. De Rosa - Prevention

Thought for a long while that this would be my album of the year, but I have found as the months have ticked past that I do not return to it as much as I did. Still a staggeringly good album from a band that split up a month or so later. Fragile yet robust, far more polished than their debut (Mend) but without losing their edge.

1. The Phantom Band - Checkmate Savage

The album I have most often re-visited last year - took over from Prevention in November/December as the #1 because I feel it has more longevity. A mixture of dark, brooding sounds and happy-clappy choruses that make me want to bounce around like an idiot - it shouldn't work, but it just does. Magnificently. Scottish indie at its finest.

===

What's odd about this list, from my perspective, is that two albums from favourite artists of mine that I would have had as dead certs for inclusion do not make it (King Creosote's Flick the Vs and Malcolm Middleton's Waxing Gibbous). Those two, and the list above (the top 3 and Yorkston) indicate a strong trend towards Scottish artists in the past 12 months.

I was tempted to include a Jazz release from left-field (Andy Sheppard's Movements in Colour) but felt it would be for the sake of diversity rather than quality - though I like it a lot, it's not received the same attention of the above in terms of plays or thought. Other honourable mentions go to Andrew Bird (for Useless Creatures more than Noble Beast) and Mercury-nominated Sweet Billy Pilgrim (for Twice Born Men).

I keep feeling...

2009-10-15T22:35:00.002+01:00

As though I really ought to write something.

Problem is I have no idea what - or even what format. My brain is atrophying without use and could benefit greatly from some linguistic working out, and my creative side is craving release but...

Application has long been the problem.

The stupid things we find challenging that others find easy

2009-09-22T18:46:00.002+01:00

Are a constant source of annoyance, self-beration and anxiety. Things we know are simple but struggle with every time they raise their head.

Fucking telephones.

Cute girl was cute, is gone

2009-07-27T15:59:00.004+01:00

Just got back from a weekend at a music festival, the first one of them I've been to in 11 years. Much good about the experience, some bad too - mostly related to my state of being, my mind, and prinicpally the weather.

These things happen - glorious warm sun one day, pissing rain and biting wind the next. Just as the bands on show varied from fun to fabulous, to "fuck-I-want-to-deafen-myself-just-to-not-hear-you". All to be expected.

I should also have expected to feel lots of "alone in the crowd" moments; I don't know why I don't engage. It may have something to do with how I appreciate music - a very individual and powerful sensation - but I suspect it is more wide ranging than that as I've had such moments in crowds for other things too. And it isn't indicative, necessarily, of being there on my own; nor is it a slight on people I might actually be with.

I can't explain it, though I reckon its all tied in with my not being outgoing and finding reaching out to people - or accepting them in, though that is easier - difficult. As such I end up spending a lot of time beating myself up internally and this weekend was no different, especially when the folks I was with are able to just approach anyone and everyone, even to mug band members for hairy coo photies.

And so people pass me by. Cute girl was cute, is gone.

Even in despair, the funny side is clear

2009-07-11T22:26:00.005+01:00

As I sank to my knees, giving up on yet another wasted weekend in what amounts to a wasted life, a crappy day drawing to a close... the track ticked over. Bad Day - oh how appropriate.

Last song before bed...

2009-05-13T22:40:00.000+01:00

Time to Get Up.

Branded

2009-03-25T23:33:00.003Z

What an eventful week. First that sense of power, of being; of Life. That was what walking the pattern gave me in the immediacy, but now it leaves me doubting - hurt and bemused, broken and remade and even now, having supposedly proven myself "real" by completing that walk, it leaves me feeling a fake. Angry, alone and in over my head - and indeed everyone else is too if things really are as they appear.

To cut a long story short dear reader, in case the whole tale does not interest you, I suspect that I am... someone else, yet not entirely; it is complicated, as is everything else around here, it seems. From what I can glean from Fiona, amongst others, it appears that what gave me power, what made me "real" was not parentage as it was for all other Amberites I have met

But to not rush off too far ahead - that is just the latest and greatest of the weird and disturbing events to befall me. The first happened whilst wandering directionless through shadow (I had never shifted before) on the way back from Caercorran. I had somehow come to be in Avernus - I later learned that shadow has history; oh how fate mocks the unknowing - when I was assaulted by cat-like creatures with 4 arms an very, very, nasty blades. I had made the mistake of travelling unarmed (one I shall certainly not repeat), such was the haste of my decision to walk the pattern and the blur of events since then and though I fought hard, I was soon in a less than survivable condition - impaled on a barbed and serrated blade with a dead creature on my back and a dying one in my arms. It was thus Rowland and Malice came across me. I fainted soon after, and when I next remember having consciousness I was in a strange box-like room where everything was white and funny boxes made bleeping noises and connected to me by wires. Then Keats resolved into view - that bastard brother of mine has only tried to outdo me again.

It seemed he had taken offense to my message and sought out another who held a grudge - the demon Wyrdsworth felt jilted, apparently, with my having been to Amber. And so he had dealt my soul into Keats' filthy hands, and had lifted him up far beyond anything that he offered me. It makes me choke and spit to think of it, but somehow the snivelling, conniving bastard sibling of mine finally had what he had always wanted, I was at his mercy, trapped in his mind and ripe for... well, empty threats so far. He wouldn't, or couldn't, act there and then. Instead he delivered a cryptic warning - to me, my companions, and to Amber itself. All of this in some... nightmarish vision of a place. I only escaped through Rowland's intervention, and sooner or later this constant failure and reliance on him must end. It is unseemly and disgraceful.

From there we walked shadow; I had recovered well but not fully from the impaling and they wanted me to rest. We ended up in a shadow of Rowland's choosing, which had but one interesting feature: a painting of the woman in white who appeared on the Trump that seemed to link us three. It was of her, on a throne, and... it was missing something. When I put my eye to it, and let my pen wander instinctively, it appeared as though it had once also shown a boy playing with a crown, so I drew him in. Rowland then tried to Trump using the painting, and knocked himself unconscious in the act; I had drawn Rowland as a child, the woman in white thus revealed as his mother. Cassandra.

There was more to that, but it was uninteresting. We struggled for a plan, but Malice wanted to go back to Avernus to look for her father. As with everything else this week, it turned out badly. Werewolves, long drops and being forced into further deals with the devil. Further exposition on that may be unwise.

But that is of nothing to compare with the revelation that followed. Rowland and I rescued Bleys - an elder, missing for years - from a sacrificial altar the wolves had set up; Malice had been captured too, but seemed to have thrown in with the blasted creatures and their head... Brand, her father. Rowland was livid - they argued - then as things were looking very hairy the whole camp disappeared.

With nowhere else to turn, we managed to find horses and ride for Amber - and let me tell you I do not wish to Hellride again anytime soon - to find King Random had "gone on holiday" and that Fiona was in charge for now. Apparently Random had gotten worried once it emerged Rowland was Eric's son, but this was as nothing compared to the threat that Brand apparently posed. I did not know my history then, but now...

Well, he was supposed to be gone, apparently, though not everyone was surprised by his return. I learned from Fiona that the memories I recalled whilst walking the pattern were not my own - they were Brand's. I had not done it before, and perhaps should never have done so at all, though given what I was told before I did, were that true would I still be here?

It then emerged that when Brand was toppled into the abyss someone - Fiona, would be my guess - stole aspects of his being and hid it somewhere, for what has returned is not whole. This, plus the memories point to me as a vessel, a less than charming thought which supposedly puts my survival in Fiona's best interests... and is there anywhere less safe to be, if the mutterings of the other elders are to be believed?

As to what I do now... I have not the faintest clue.

Walking the Pattern

2009-02-02T11:25:00.002Z

I am writing this having just left Caercorran. I wait with interest to hear how my other family react to the little gift I left them. The bastards will know I am coming back for them, and that I know how.

These days I know a lot more than that it seems... Know, or remember. It is hard to separate new knowledge from old memory, and the whole thing is a bit of a blur. I had walked it before, bent shadow before... killed before. Power once lost is coming to the fore again but I hazard it will be a long while yet before it returns in full. For now, through remembrance and pushing myself I am merely finding my feet anew.

It has been a strange few days - from unwitting minor noble in some backwater province that was not even real, to close to godhood and the memories of a prior existence. From overwhelmed and undecisive fool at the banquet to an awareness and impulse born of Fiona's "gift". Her attentions unnerved me before, but now they intrigue; I can only assume she knew - nay, knows - something I yet do not. To hand me a trump of the Pattern... well, Roland's reaction to it told it all: who would make such a card?! This was not chance, it was planned - but to what detail? That the first two cards I picked were identical, her brother I believe, and the third - the charm - being the pattern itself. Hah, and dead central too - of course it was no chance.

I can only imagine what she was thinking when I took the bait, but the betting is that things have worked out as she desired - I would not give myself the credit to match an elder, and particularly not one I had been expressly warned about. Still, the impulsiveness felt good - the first trump contact I initiate, and it is to the Pattern room itself! Oh, the look on Roland's face must have been priceless when I made that connection. The sense of power, of belonging, when I realised that I was afoot the Pattern itself after the transport - and that (and I'm sure Malice will be disappointed) I was not "goo" - that feeling was to be treasured. The rest of the journey, on the other hand... it is a mixture of pain, pain and more pain. Some of it delicious, but more of it excruciating. Funny how it was only after the self-mutilation and impalement that the memory of how to walk the Pattern returned! Hah, and to think I nearly did not make it - Roland, bless him, must have helped, else why would he have been at the centre with me? Otherwise why put yourself through that for a second time... unless you had forgotten!

The horrors and specifics I will leave out here, but I trust that this time I shall carry them always in mind, for to put myself through that a third time would be foolish indeed! I found the immediate aftermath a bit of a nightmare, albeit an empowering one - I recall simply bloodlust, the need to hunt, and feeling envigorated and energised but only for as long as it took to find raw meat. Not such an alien feeling, that - the imagery of claws, fangs and the taste of blood have been common these few days, but that the first thing I saw was not elk, nor deer, nor game but wolf... well poor chance. The urge needed sating however, and so it had to die. That it's terrible head now adorns my "father's" throne, well... I wager the note I left my "brother" promising his come-uppance will hold as great an effect. And neither of them will be pleased...

Amber: First Impressions (diary)

2008-11-25T21:28:00.005Z

So, this is Amber. Amazingly I am impressed by the place, if not yet by the people - or how I got here: I still don't understand that. In all honesty today was baffling, infuriating, exhausting and belittling. And yet it was also inspiring, visceral and energizing, all in one turn of the solar cycle.

How can this be? Well, my midnight jaunt set the tone - body vanished and nothing with which to pin down that bastard brother of mine. Not that it mattered anyway as despite the fact I was certain I felt him nearby, he was nowhere to be found at the estate, and the servants were adamant that he left on a ride earlier that morning. Curse the oversleeping that my fruitless return to the village where we left Triaste brought on!

From that frustrating start, the day got worse before it got better. I resigned myself to a cold revenge upon my return and went to meet Roland and Berthold in order to set off for Amber, only to find the former in conversation with a bizarrely attired boy. At least - I had thought it was a boy; it turned out to be another "cousin", a fellow "Amberite" and a rather poorly attired woman. She introduced herself as Malice and the name fits - I was less than impressed with her attire and her personality and attitude produced the same effect. No doubt it is mutual, but I'll lose no sleep over that.

I may lose sleep over the weirdness of the journey though - Roland later explained it as moving through "shadow" worlds, changing a bit at a time, not that that made it any easier to stomach. The sky turned purple, I felt sick and dis-empowered, a child bound to the hand of Roland as "father" and completely out of my depth. I tried to return home with no luck - my new powers seem to have deserted me already. Such was the torment that I was almost glad when we found the body. I just wanted the journey to end.

I had an inkling that it would only be a stopping point and as such it both irked and relieved in equal measure - an ending, but one with the promise of more hell to follow.

But not until after the battle - it turned out by ill chance that the dead man was a soldier of Amber, or as Roland put it "a servant of the family", and the ringing of battle was audible on the wind. Malice, Berthold and Roland rode like buggery to the fight - citing duty. I was lost, alone in a strange place with my companions ridden off to die for all I knew. Unwilling to commit as they had, I circled, scouted - and I'm still itching as a result of those spines, they combine poorly with saddle-sores! - and gained vantage. Then another strange moment: my eyes locked even at range with a figure marshaling the defense and I saw him as if right close. It turned out later - once the fight was won - that he was "King Random" of Amber, personally overseeing the return of troops and wounded from some supposedly concluded war. He did not impress, not with personality, nor with tactics, or his personal involvement in what would seem to be a routine task. Admittedly it appeared from the carnage - in which I played full part in the end, smashing a weak point in the assaulting line and then leading a force to route the enemy archers (who posed the only real threat to the defense... apart from those hideous bat-like creatures) , but it leaves me not knowing what to make of this much vaulted Amber.

I swear that back home, however "unreal" it may be (and I am far from certain that I yet believe that line), no-one as puny or uninspiring as Random would last as ruler. Still he thanked us, greeting and accepting me as "cousin" though we had never met... perhaps what passed in that second of locked eyes was more than a trick of the light - it makes me shudder to think of it, yet the possibilities...

Sometime after the attackers - largely strange forms, black and... odd - were routed, Malice "disappeared" through an ice-shedding rainbow, only to reappear when we arrived in Amber itself (to a hero's welcome, to compound the strangeness of it all). She unnerves me, and not in a good way; she will need to be watched, if indeed it is possible to watch those who come and go like that. Roland and I arrived back by a more conventional route - on horseback - but it was apparently more "shadow shifting" that eventually brought us to Amber itself (by way of a buried stone giant which, I'm sure, must have been some kind of hallucination).

And in that arrival, the day's sheer joy - this city is a picture that makes the artist in me sing and buzz with enthusiasm. Architecture that looks familiar, yet varied too, and scenery that takes the breath away. If nothing else the opportunity to see the vista - with the giant mountain (Roland named it, but it escapes me in my tiredness) towering above, the castle dominating the town, and the deep greens of the surrounding forest contrasting with the vivid blue of the ocean. Breathtaking, glorious and simply beautiful.

I had little left to give after that - the approach to Castle Amber was twisting through parades on the street, as if Random's words of heroes had got back to the people and they had come out to welcome us home. Thankfully I was too tired to pay much attention, and shortly after we got into the castle - to be met as mentioned by Malice, attired in a way more befitting her gender at least - I collapsed in exhaustion and was shown to these chambers. That was last night, and now... a new day awaits in a strange yet beautiful city where everyone seems to think that I have "come home".

[Small portraits of Malice (unflattering), Roland, Random (bordering on caricature) and the vista of Amber accompany this entry]

Of Demons and Doublecrosses

2008-11-16T16:59:00.000Z

It looks like my time here in Caercorran draws to a close. Not closed by death but by... escape. In this I have choice, though the machinations of others would seek to deny me as much as possible of this quality.

It is scarcely believable, but Roland - this enigmatic, charismatic stranger - and his travelling companion Berthold claim me to be some kind of... well, different. I am hard pressed to argue with a couple who appeared from nowhere and, in truth, rescued me from the 20 foot tall monstrosity and then claimed to have fought many of its ilk before now! Yet neither can I accept it at face value, and this is one reason I feel I absolutely compelled to accompany them and thus determine the truth or otherwise of Roland's rather bewildering claim.

And to think - the day started with so much banal promise. The hunt was to go ahead precisely as planned, and that old buffoon Triaste even agreed to accompany us to witness my feats. Perhaps I was already thinking of sharing Yvonne's chambers when I called that lovelorn fool Wilhelm to throw first and mark the hunt. The idiot charged too soon, missed his throw and killed a piglet - no wonder all hell broke loose! I was hoping for a clean kill (the lad, not the boar) and an angry pack of pigs for the other hunters to round up satisfactorily. Instead, chaos; even so, it was manageable until that booming from the forest. I shudder to think about it now, and yet I'm drawn to - for apparently there will be more, and worse the vanquished can return! The goat-man thing, if I had held truck with tales and legend then I would have scattered with the rest of the sheep, but I did not and saw the opportunity even the alpha boar did not provide!

My "bravery" was stupid, looking back, but truth be told by the time I realised I would have need to be brave it was too late to turn tail and run. Outpacing a giant that size would have been impossible, even had the horses stayed close enough. Then its words. "Betrayer" it called me though I am utterly lost as to why. Simply that the thing was after me, specifically, at all is terrifying. That it is so bandying around words, nay names, like that... There will be more - they both said. There will be more, and I am "different", "of Amber" - whatever that means. The two, I fear, may be linked, and Roland's words suggest such.

But that is for tomorrow - when I will ride with them to this Amber, wherever that is.

For tonight, I have little time; I must quickly ascertain what happened to Triaste's body and the guards we left with it. I do not want to let that damned brother of mine appear to have sent me packing with whatever smear his liaisons with father have cooked up. No, if I cannot force him to spill on his ruses, I will have to make him pay before I depart. Give him something to remember me by when the time comes for me to return. And knowing the bastard like I do... he is unlikely to yield me a thing. Unless the evidence of Triaste's body and the testimony of the guards and healers can be drummed up, and with Roland's corroboration used to paint him for the weasel he is, my revenge on my scheming sibling will have to take different form. Disfigurement and disgrace - whether social or physical - await my poor brother in the morning I feel.

But only if I lay this aside for now and get to it... I must act on certainties to ensure success, and cannot theorise the wiping of the smug look from his face.

An Amber Character Diary

2008-11-16T15:00:00.002Z

Our gaming group have just started an Amber game, and over the course of our sessions I have committed to writing a character diary; the entries will appear here over time as I write them.

I am only passingly familiar with Amber as both fantasy fiction in the form of Zelazny's novels and in terms of the diceless roleplaying system written by the recently deceased Eric Wujcik. Fittingly, therefore, I have chosen to play a character equally unfamiliar with Amber who will discover things as we go in much the same way as his player.

The ideas enthrall me, and so the setting and likely complications of plot, character and personality were easily sold. It sounds very much like "my kind of game" in terms of likely happenings, midsets and so forth, and I have confidence in both the GM and my fellow players to make sure that labyrynthine mazes of relationships and interactions colour and cloud every possible step. It helps, too, that there may well be a (yet to be decided) second game running parallel, sharing the workload and providing much needed respite on the part of both GMs.

So all in all, a game full with the promise of interest, one in which Byron - apparently the self-centered young second son of a noble, but really progeny of Amber - will find his path for good or ill. No doubt it will lead away from his home in Shadow, where magic is commonplace and his more mundane talents were not at all appreciated...

You can tell I'm bored...

2008-10-12T12:35:00.005+01:00

Not because I'm writing something here, though there might be some truth in that, nor because my overuse of the ellipsis has extended to infect the title of every post here. No, it is because I have taken to drive-by tagging on Last FM, purely for something to do. It is not as if (for the most part) the tags I use will ever make such sense to others, or indeed that I will give them a second thought once applied - it just fills a hole with "something to do."

Dunno why, but it made me think of Stick's labeling (though my activity is lesser and devoid of the level of wit shown there...)

It's 21.00 on Saturday...

2008-09-06T21:01:00.002+01:00

I'm 28, and all I feel like doing is going to bed - and there's no-one else involved (as if!). What the hell is up with that?

I've been feeling more and more useless in the evenings for a while, utterly wiped out and uninterested in anything that might be considered fun, instead longing for bed, even in the knowledge that sleep is unlikely. Then again, if I'm out and with others, I'm happy and active until all hours - my lonely existence within my place of residence is sucking every ounce of energy. Getting out more seems the obvious answer, but over the last month or so as this home-apathy effect has multiplied, that's exactly what I have been doing happened; it all makes no sense.

Ah well, I suppose this weekend was always going to drag after the fun had over the last two...

A fantastic weekend all round...

2008-09-02T20:43:00.002+01:00

It's rare I have truly great weekends. Rarer still that two really good ones back to back as they have. First, over the bank holiday, a chance to see members of the extended (though still small) family, some of whom I had not seen for up to 7 years, and an extended chance to spend time with some of them which made for a really relaxing (if somewhat alcoholic) long weekend.

Then, the weekend just gone, half days on Friday and Monday bookended a weekend of gaming geekery in the New Forest which did not disappoint - playing at Robin Hood when out in the midst of an atmospheric woodland on a smashingly good day was tops. Maybe more on that at a later date. Even the pain/irritation of receiving far too many insect bites than anyone should ever suffer was more than blown away by the amazement of getting home to find that by some unbelievable swing in fortune, England have been stuffing the Saafers at the cricket (albeit in a format I care little for, having lost abjectly at the true form, which I follow nigh-on religiously).

Then the crowning moment - which set the perfection preceding it in focus: coming home and opening my slight extravagance of a self-given birthday present. The special edition of James Yorkston's When The Haar Rolls In was worth every penny - not for the absent golden ticket, but for the whole package, which tantalisingly arrived just before I set off on Friday but lay untouched until my return. The album is grand, the covers CD containing real gems, and the remixes disc has its moments too. Now I just need to make sure I get around to securing tickets to his Oxford show, even if I end up attending alone...

My thanks...

2008-08-06T00:41:00.006+01:00

To the fuckwit who convinced me of what I had already almost convinced myself: it was worth picking up a copy of the eponymous Khartoum Heroes - one of Kenny Anderson's (aka KC) early projects - it's a fantastic piece of work, and just makes me want to chase down copies of any Skoubie Dubh Orchestra cuts that might be available. KA/KC is really my musical muse of the minute...

It occurs to me

2008-07-26T17:17:00.004+01:00

That even for my own benefit tagging posts with "of no particular interest" is pointless, as I should rightfully tag every post with it if so.

It is thus with irony I attach such a tag to that statement.

Time Off

2008-07-26T17:02:00.002+01:00

There are two or three main reasons why I rarely take time off, and ultimately they can be traced back to the same root cause.

The first is that I don't have people to travel with, so taking time off to go away is a non-issue (I'm also a bad solo traveler). The second is that when I do have days off I tend to spend them as I do my weekends - wondering what the hell to do with myself; because they are both almost entirely solo affairs.

The third, a minor player, is also related: I'm shit at planning or organizing things.

It's not that I pine for work when I'm off - I don't by a long shot - just that there seem so few interesting or fun things to do (there are always things that have to be done for other reasons) when all ones spare time is essentially spent alone that I end up almost as tired, as bored and as frustrated as I would were I working.

Of course chronic lack of sleep doesn't help, meaning that it is all too easy to lie-in too long given the opportunity and miss the window for certain activities (shopping in the centre of Oxford, for example, is unbearable on weekends or in the summer with tourist-derived population bloat unless one gets there first thing). Nor does the fact I find the acts involved with keeping in contact with people rank as chores (especially when many of those I wish to maintain contact with are less forthcoming than I am - and that's saying something).

But all in all time off so often ends up being time wasted, and my feeling no better for it. And half way through this long weekend, that's precisely how I feel about yesterday.

Ah well.

I am amused...

2008-07-24T00:09:00.003+01:00

One of the reasons I love Cricket - I just don't remember ever seeing mainstream media comment like this on any other sport with any kind of regularity:

From the Grauniad:

"As we know, he bowled utter garbage. Fast bowlers, as a matter of routine, aim for the top of off stump; McCague sincerely seemed to be aiming for leg stump a third of the way up, so errant were his line and length. He ended with figures of 19.2-4-96-2, but the two wickets were an afterthought while the tail was slogging, like a man completely blowing it with his dream date only to get some from a sexagenarian transvestite on his way home. It's safe to assume the McCague grandchildren will not be hearing about the day he had Glenn McGrath caught at mid-off."

Its part of a piece inspired by the really dodgy selection, poor performance and resultant (deserved) thrashing England received at the hands of the South Africans last weekend and it made me chuckle - almost as much as the selection inspiring it made me choke on my morning coffee.

The "Oh, arse!" moment of the weekend...

2008-07-13T21:52:00.002+01:00

...was not having to work 9-2.30 on Saturday.

Instead it was a far more stupid moment just now - ruining an iron and a good pair of trousers by forgetting to check and change the heat setting.

Bugger.

How Random; How Annoying.

2008-06-23T21:13:00.003+01:00

The Alaska in Winter CD I ordered arrived, looked kosher with packaging, and disc image alike correct.

Then I stick it in to play (well, rip), and it turns out beneath the veneer is Whitney Houston's greatest oral shits.

I want to just breathe...

2008-05-24T00:36:00.004+01:00

Joy!

A new Thea album, a new set of songs to get overly attached to, and a new personal favourite not even mentioned in the professional reviews of the album.

Thea Gilmore is the closest I get to fandom: I'm a dedicated follower, a self-confessed fan owning most of what is available, and I find it hard to so much as acknowledge criticism as fair unless I've had a chance to grill the one levelling accusations to see why their falsehoods (yeah, I'll talk in absolutes here for effect) have been laid down. I've been rapt since I was encouraged to pick up Rules for Jokers 6 or so years ago. Each subsequent album, and each acquisition of earlier work, has simply brought a greater appreciation and better big picture view. Yes, there are dud songs in the seven or so albums released, and yes it remains true that my strongest connection is to the works I first heard but each album has brought with it new and fantastic tunes to add to the playlist of genuinely brilliant stuff that revolves in my mind.

Liejacker is no different - a few stand out tracks, a couple that disappoint just slightly due to their similarity in form to previous work, and one tune that really touches a nerve with me that is hardly mentioned in any review I've read. Breathe, from which I took the title of this post, touches me deeply and along with the opener, Old Soul, forms the backbone of a record I have listened to more in an opening week than any for some time. Even the 10 year wait didn't inspire this many listens when Portishead released Third. But then I have to admit bias where Thea is concerned - objectivity flies away just like any personal cares or consideration do when I hear her material. Liejacker has ever managed to vie with King Creosote's Bombshell for play this week which is some measure. I've been playing songs from Bombshell (whilst that album was a 2007 release, I've only had it for about a month) almost non-stop since it dropped through my door and I consider it an instant classic I really shouldn't have missed on release.

Whilst the spin from Thea (via the mailing list and other sources) has very much been about the most personal album to date - and yeah, I can see that - my focus has been on the few stand-out tracks and how their tone is more unified, more consistent; whether that is really wanted or not is another matter. Ultimately I think I pine for the days of Rules for Jokers or earlier, with the accompanying variation, lyrical edge, and rawness, but I have to say that, unsurprisingly, Liejacker has nonetheless shot to the top of my own albums of 2008 list, above Third. I do, however, suspect it might be beaten to the title of my personal album of the year - either by Steve Mason's forthcoming Black Affair release Pleasure Pressure Point, or by the promised Massive Attack record, should it see the light of day.

Not a good review here, but that was never the intent; I juest felt the (drunken) need to proclaim the release for good or ill. Liejacker is out, and I'm happily going to see the supporting tour when it hits Oxford in a month. And that all makes me happy.

Scottish Indie-folk is The Shit!

2008-04-20T23:12:00.000+01:00

And as much as it pains me to say it, I have to give Garry some credit for helping to provide my way in by finally getting me to listen to the Beta Band last year. Technically I'd already had exposure to the scene - James Yorkston fits nicely in, and his Moving Up Country album is one of my all time picks. Yet it was a combination of three things that finally got me to explore a little more - the aforementioned turning on to the Beta Band (I'd come close back when they broke through but never followed up an interest in an E.P.), my continued use of Last FM, and my general move towards folk and folk-influenced music in the last few weeks.

I've spent (or rather ordered; handily, yet frustratingly, receipt and payment will be delayed) far too much in the last month or so, buying up the likes of King Creosote, King Biscuit Time (a.k.a. Steven Mason, former frontman for the Betas - incidentally also now with an upcoming release under the moniker Black Affair, albeit with a very different sound), Malcom Middleton (of Arab Strap fame)...

For years I would have ridiculed Scottish music, but for now it's calling me.

Why I think "The Party" is one of gaming's worst anachronisms

2008-04-17T19:15:00.007+01:00

Yup, that's right: I said The Party (capitalisation deliberate), I said anachronism. And I said worst.

Pretty extreme, and a touch exaggerated to make a point, but bear with me and I'll expand. Not everyone will agree (not by a long shot) and I suspect that it is actually quite an intolerable view for a lot of gamers; quite literally stabbing at the heart of the hobby, perhaps? I call bullshit on that last part, certainly. "The Party" is nowhere near the heart of the hobby as I see it, and in fact I would say the preponderance of it being held as such is one of the reasons the term is - in my mind - such a damaging influence.

To first define what I mean by the term: I am specifically referring to the meta-game concept of "The Party" as it refers to "all the PCs in this game"; and, by extension, the baggage that comes with it - longstanding traditions like "don't split the party!" or "no intra-party conflict!" These terms and ideas are just fine, and even desirable, in some games, but they are fundamentally limiting factors that constrain what is possible.

I am categorically not using "The Party" as a blanket reference to any game (whether that be a system, or an individual campaign/one off/what have you) in which PCs grouping together is a default, nor am I against "the party" being used as an in character description applicable to the group formed by the PCs.

I am also categorically not against PCs working together, but equally I do not think they should have to do so all the time.

As background, here are some viewpoints that hold quite strongly:

1) That PCs are individuals. Those sitting around the table playing are the group.
2) That PCs can be likened to protagonists in film, TV or literature, and I like the metaphor of RPGs as TV shows.
3) That conflict between involved participants drives games onwards and upwards better than anything else.
4) That the GM should not (and need not) be solely responsible for generating such conflict.
5) That it is possible and desirable to enjoy time when you are not in the spotlight, but everyone should get spotlight time.
6) What matters is that PCs have a reason to interact, sharing the spotlight, not that they have a reason to stick together.
Oh, and a really obvious one:
7) Conflict covers an awful lot more than combat.

Now, there are certainly drawbacks to all of these if handled badly, but handled well they form the core of what I enjoy about this hobby (well, most of the time; we all love a bloody hack-fest on occasion, eh?). They inform the below.

The crux of my argument against The Party is this - the baggage that comes with the meta-game use of the term can fundamentally limit players' mentalities, expectations and approaches, thus having a knock-on effect on the nature of the games that can play out. I think this is a bad thing. Why? Because I enjoy games in a lot of different styles, tones and covering a range of different content and conflicts (this does not apply to genre - by and large I have come to think genre is an irrelevance, the short-term flavouring which adds a backdrop to the goings on but is not central to the nature of events). There is mileage in a multitude of ways of playing games and I think anything that helps shut minds to some of them without people trying it and deciding its not for them is bad.

I think The Party does this because it is such an ingrained idea, held almost as dogma in some quarters, and its prevalence helped generate the idea that the best (or in the extreme, only) way to play is with a group of characters who go around together, fall in line with each other and don't conflict in any meaningful - let along engaging or involving - manner. This suits some styles of games (and gamers) to the ground and that's great; but it doesn't suit everyone, nor is it open to the variation that comes with changing the model.

That is it; simple. The Party mantra influences players and limits the scope of games. Once established it can be broken down, but the more ingrained it is the more the resistance to anything other than The Party model grows. This isn't a problem when it is an informed personal preference, (after all if someone has tried and not liked something, why do so again to their detriment?), but the insidiousness of The Party is that its prevalence as method instinctively closes minds to other models - whether just because it is by far the most common and many players never experience anything else, or because the idiot who constantly acts up and out like a mischievous kid gave conflict between PCs a bad name. And even if any ideological resistance is breached, The Party model affects the approach to a game too - working at crossed purposes, outright antagonism or sticking to ones guns rather than letting it slide can be hard to extract from players, even those most willing to engage in non-Party games, if all their gaming history is a variation on "don't rock the boat."

In summary: I feel that whilst the idea of The Party makes perfect sense in the context of the roots of the hobby, and in games which maintain a similar focus (e.g. groups of player characters beating the crap out of challenge after challenge - especially so in any case where those involved see characters as little more than playing pieces), gaming as a whole is a hobby with the potential for so much more than that. The very continued existence of The Party as the common meta-game term for the PCs created by any one gaming group belies the fact that RPGs can handle adversaries well, that characters do not have to stand together or always live in each others' pockets. In my view, the spectre of The Party applies preemptive brakes on attempts to play in other styles as a result of the subconscious baggage it carries.

Stress, impotence and mistakes

2008-03-30T18:02:00.003+01:00

I have spent the entire weekend trapped in the tiniest corner of my tiny mind, rattling the bars of the cage with no sign of their loosening nor any way to release the lock.

I have no idea what has kicked off this feeling of constant stress, these reactions and the utter impotence I feel with regards to breaking out have meant that everything I have touched over the two days has inevitably ended with some kind of mistake - no matter how small - that has provoked over-the-top anguish and self-defeating anger or despair.

All of which is in stark contrast to Friday when, despite waking up with a mild hangover from the night before, and despite the howling gale and sleety rain, despite a day of interminable boredom at work, and with no rationale behind it, from the moment I woke I felt obscenely serene, as if something was going to (or had) just drop(ed) into place. It didn't and hadn't of course; nothing ever does.

Dark Heresy

2008-03-26T20:30:00.006Z

So over the Easter weekend I had cause to play the Warhammer 40k RPG, Dark Heresy. The short version: it's WFRP with bigger guns, to no-ones surprise.

The long version would recount a very enjoyable long weekend of which two days were given over to gaming, but I can't be arsed; so instead the version presented is Condensed Random Thoughts Provoked by Playing. Bear in mind that I don't own the book, nor have I read it through. What I have done is glanced at bits that were pertinent to the game as played, and participated in several hours of actual play.

• WFRP with bigger guns - characters are similarly (in)competent, system works identically in play, etc. This is no bad thing; it immediately felt familiar and smooth, and of course similar themes abound, even if the tech level is ramped up.
• Get up close and personal. Especially with a shotgun. Jeez... the +30 to hit and extra hit per 2 degrees success at point blank were responsible for some fine spray mess.
• The career organization felt... whacky. For example Assassins need to be 3rd rank (1500+ XP) before they can learn to hide skillfully. WTF?
• Not allowing the same half action to be repeated caused some consternation to stand-and-shoot types. And monkey dancing. In a fez. Yes, you read that right, and I'm only slightly making it up.
• Psykers are interesting things to have around, not least for when they fuck up.
• Two 100s in a row is one hell of a way to burn a Fate Point, and what a game to roll it in. Low damn you dice. Low!
• Niche protection works, but my god if it didn't feel like the characters were one-trick ponies at low XP levels.
• Defaulting a whole sessions worth of Tech Use roles as a low int Void Born made for some interest. The skill splits definitely increase the need for balanced groups given the penalty for defaulting, and the basic/advanced differential.
• Jesus fuck why weren't tables etc done in a sensible order (alphabetised, maybe?)? It made finding things take far longer than it should and somewhat frustrating.

All in all it was a fun weekend, and everyone said they had enjoyed the game and would play again - though everyone agreed on some of the "slightly off" points above and felt some tweaking very much required in future.

I doubt I'll pick it up - if I were to run 40k inquisitors, I'd probably look first to a port of Dogs in the Vineyard - but I'm certainly glad to have played it and would do so again.

I think I may have enjoyed a Comic/Graphic Novel for the first time...

2008-03-26T19:36:00.002Z

... and I can't put my finger on why.

I'm confused a little, not by the enjoyment - though it did surprise me, and I'm still not sure if enjoyed is quite the right term - but because I can't place what it was that kept me reading, or appreciating or... well, stopped me dismissing it as I have dismissed all other (sparse, and few though they may be) such works I've happened to browse. (As an aside I've never grokked or enjoyed superheroes much since - or before? - that either though cause/effect breakdown is not so clear).

I'm just not a particularly visually-minded person, never have been, and long ago I wrote off comics as "not for me" as a result. Not as childish (though I'm sure that figured somewhere at the time), nor as lesser art forms, but as not for me. I've never been shy of admitting this in conversation so to be honest I was a little surprised when Paul passed me the 4 Scott Pilgrim strips to borrow after the last game session I made, but thought I'd take a look since the offer was there.

So I packed 'em with my stuff at the end of the night. And I then forgot about them for a week, until the moment when I couldn't make it to that week's session for fear of spreading my lurgy (manflu!) ahead of people's holidays (and the Dark Heresy game I was attending over Easter). So that evening instead of gaming (the end of the current game and last session for a while) I curled up in bed far later than planned, and read book 1 cover to cover - despite being conscious of thinking "what the hell is the appeal supposed to be?" at every moment along the way and being aware of a general feeling of meh building in my mind.

Book 2 I read a couple of days later, again in one sitting, again far too late at night. I remember the overwhelming feeling was not meh, not cool!, not amusement, but rather "Oh, that's where that forum handle comes from".

But it was last night's reading of books 3 and 4, back to back, that... somehow left me feeling I actually want to know what happens next; I'm both interested and engaged. The humour grew on me, I can pinpoint that, but it wasn't laugh-out-loud funny to a degree that explains the interest alone.

Enh, it'll wear off and I suspect I'll have forgotten about it as/when the 5th volume is published or the optioned film comes out. I'm not likely to buy, go see, or even think about them, nor any other comic not offered to me on a platter. That said, it is never a bad thing to find doors not as shut as you thought if the other side is not perilous, eh?

But I just have this nagging "why?" y'know? I like to know, or perhaps more accurately be able to articulate, why something appeals to me - basically so I can find similar stuff. Call it a quirk. And for the moment the take-home sensation for me is a big ol' ... WTF?

Oh well.

So Red Snapper Reformed...

2008-03-11T22:13:00.004Z

...which won't mean an awful lot to very many, but they're one of my all time favourite groups and they reformed (or at the very least became active again) last year after a long hiatus.

I only found out about it this week, and am currently agonising over whether to get tickets to travel alone to London to see them play one midweek in April. Then today I stumbled across them on MySpace and via there YouTube clips of a recent show...

Exquisite.

Dredging up the Past

2008-02-22T20:18:00.002Z

Is virtually never a good idea. Yet that's precisely what is happening over at RPGnet - where the off-topic forums are being purged of a lot of old content, but not before current users have a chance (1 week per year of content) to post to, and thus save, conversations of interest to them.

Whilst a lot of memories - good and bad alike - will be waded through, some classic humour re-visited, grand old arguments re-examined and so forth, mostly the past belongs in the past. So far it's not too bad for me; I didn't join those forums until August 2003 and so only 4 months of old contributions come to light so far. The worst is to come, sometimes in graphic and personal detail, as pretty much throughout the whole of '04 I used it to blow off steam from the vast array of crap that was going on in my life (now life is crap but at least it's because nothing is going on, not all kinds of Very Bad Things). Worse, I suspect some of it is the type of gawp-fodder that some folks might - on a bad day - save for shits and giggles. Arguments make for good reading do they not?

I'm hoping not; the idea of the content being deleted appeals, a shedding of a self-made burden in a way. It almost irks that the other denizens of that place might get in the way of this purge.

It's worth pointing out that gods was I an arsehole; injudicious, quick to anger, shit-stirring, prolific, profane and pointless and yet almost censure-free*. Only rarely did I contribute anything of worth - witty, funny, insightful were all in the minority - yet it's also the period when camaraderie and friendships were formed that I do now sometimes miss. Only sometimes. And some continue, which is nice.

*A bit like now, really - except for the prolific part.

I am getting so fed up...

2008-02-17T11:57:00.004Z

...with the postal service in Britain.

I am currently having to chase up a missing 'net-ordered item for the second time in less than two months thanks to something going wrong between retailer and consumer. The first order, through Amazon, eventually turned up over a month after it was sent - and 2 weeks or more after the replacement items Amazon sent arrived.

This time the order that has gone missing is the first one I've placed through Abebooks.co.uk - and its for an item that is only getting harder to acquire (at reasonable prices, anyway): The Tome of Salvation for WRFP 2nd edition, which is now out of print. The order was placed and processed 2 weeks ago and I've just had a credit card statement through bearing the charge for this order, yet the book itself is nowhere to be seen.

Hopefully the seller and the site will be able to help track it down, but if they cannot, even if I am granted a refund, I cannot see myself finding the book at a similarly reasonable price again. Gah!

Fucking Royal useless bastards Mail!

A Guy I Used to Work With (Might Have) Made Music I (Might) Like

2008-02-16T11:06:00.005Z

This group was just one of the little oddities that my return to using LastFM threw up last week.

Bizarrely although we talked about music more than a few times he never mentioned it and it was sufficiently obscure (which isn't saying much, really, given how far from the ground my ear is) that I had no inkling of it beforehand. It's a pity, 'cause he left a while back and I can't confirm, inquire or otherwise follow this up.

Oh well.

Silence...

2008-02-15T23:45:00.004Z

Gods I hate that I never feel awake enough to write here of late. There's been good stuff, bad stuff, worse stuff and more - music, TV and film (albeit on DVD and long after it was new) as well as the good, bad and ugly of recent gaming - that could all have spawned dross to fill this page.

And a whole lot of boring life in between. I am the man to whom nothing happens, and who has not the energy, inclination or disposition to go out and make the interesting occur. I've not had a good few weeks one way or another. I'm going to bed earlier and earlier as a general rule but still sleeping less and less from one week to the next (or so it feels, whether this is true or not).

I'm spending money I don't have again; rediscovering LastFM was not good for my bank balance but has been good for my music library and wellbeing. I haven't been doing much with myself; backsliding into old, unappreciated habits, losing evenings to idling and not entertainment. Yet I have also been reading more than I had been - albeit that my current intake is really low quality throwaway writing; the promise of better crafted words in the near future is there too. I've not heard from people; I've not contacted many.

Mostly I just want to sleep, and bemoan the perceived lack of options beyond these four walls. Well, I don't want to do the latter, but end up doing it anyway. More sleep would be very good though: perhaps if I got enough then things might look brighter. I'm rambling for something to do... I can't bring myself to care to much about anything lest I just get fed up with how things are portrayed in media, how stupid talking heads can be or other such. My patience is thinner than ever, and my self loathing (what a great word loathing is, by the way) is not quite at an all-time high, but not far off.

It's time for bed.

Thoughts on "Reign"

2008-01-15T18:02:00.000Z

REIGN, the RPG based on the One Roll Engine (ORE) by Greg Stolze, arrived through my door 10 days or so ago. I finished my readthrough last night. This is not a proper review - so don't be looking for examples - but a collection of some of the thoughts that struck me in the reading.

The short version is: I like it. Not all of it, but I like it. Yes it was expensive (not least because shipping a hardcover, A4-sized, 360+ page book from the States is pricey); yes there were a number of visible errors in the text - largely contained within page details when one rule referenced another; yes I haven't actually bothered with - nor intend to do so - the setting fluff that makes up a sizable chunk of the book. But Reign is written such that it so vividly stirs ideas that I found just perusing each section of rules was enough to throw up several or more ideas for scenes, sessions, characters or games. And that's with full knowledge that I am about as likely to use the default setting as I am to chop off my own right hand.

The longer version...

What drew me to Reign was that it was designed with the idea that the PCs are people of importance - as the tagline says, it is a "game of Lords and Leaders." This is something I not only desire, but almost demand, when I run games: people of consequence with responsibilities, duties and resources are just more interesting to me than those who have nothing, owe no-one anything, and have none counting on them. Along with this supposed focus came rules for organisations - or in Reign's terms, "Companies" - and how they interact.

This - and the whisper that the Company rules could be divorced from not just setting, but the ORE system too - is what persuaded me to shell out for it. Well, that and the massive amounts of chatter on RPGnet with almost everyone who had picked it up seeming to gush about it. But that just kept the title in my mind; it was the promise of rules for shady cults, law-enforcement agencies, private armies and the like that tipped the buying scales. And I'm sticking to that.

In the end though I think that the Company rules are probably a lot weaker that I had hoped for and probably not likely to see much use. Unless I run or play Reign itself; the rest of the game has some bad bits, but more than not is good, and some is great. Not that many games I've read have genuinely left me feeling "yes, I could run this, more or less as written." Reign did; while at the same time it left me cool (if not cold) as a portable system for introducing mechanically sound interactions for organizations in other games/systems. I'm not really sure why; the basics are simple, certainly easily divorced from ORE as claimed, and do a job of abstracting smaller scale organizations into a form where they can play off against each other. I think part of my reticence is that I feel the rules might work well for small scale Companies, but fall down a bit as the scale goes up. Or put another way, I'd be tempted to give small-scale companies much heftier stats than Reign does, because otherwise there's such low odds of them actually achieving anything that they seem almost worthless. But this cannot be the whole: if it were it is as, or perhaps even more, easily fixed by taking the Company rules outside of their parent, as by leaving them in place. Ah well; only with actual play can niggling suspicion or doubt be confirmed or denied. Onward to more positives.

Possibly the biggest selling point is character generation. It sounds a strange thing to say, but the Reign's implementation of the ORE random generation makes it quick, easy and above all fun to roll up characters. See for yourself, with Mapache's ORE Character Generator. If you don't get combinations that just beg to be given life and stories... well, I do! This method of random generation creates all equal in theory, but not really in practice; that said the tiny inequalities do not bother me, especially as I'm not generally a huge fan of mechanical advancement once games get underway. Importantly then, Reign characters can be built by point-buy so you have the option of designing that specialist you really want.

Which is good. Because if ever I play Reign, I want to design a specialist unarmed fighter/brawler. Why? Because it looks to me that the system gives good ways for such characters - useless in most RPGs - to actually be effective. The crunch in combat involves a number of moves that benefit unarmed characters, and those bearing weapons too of course, and combining them in various ways gives a degree of flexibility I have not (consciously) seen applied to unarmed characters before. (And no, I don't count the DnD monk as unarmed.) The damage potential is still low, at least on the face of it, but the dramatic and effective potential is a lot higher - especially when combined with a permissive GM, exotic or busy locations in which fight and/or the weight the rules (and less pertinently, but more interestingly setting fluff) give to non-lethal resolution.

The system itself is simple enough, though I would tend to agree with a friend of mine that it is a step too complicated for its own good at times. I like ORE's dicepool system, generating matches of different Widths (number of matching dice) and Heights (face value of a match), and the way the two interact so that Higher is not always better is a plus for me. However despite the fact that at heart ORE is quite simple, and despite the fact I like (both individually and in concert) the range of options that have been detailed as combat actions, I feel that (at face value) the hit location and damage system is cumbersome, restrictive and clunky. The same goes for healing; there's no healing magic as such (or if there was I missed it), and although the magic detailed is only setting-flavoured examples - some of them very nicely flavoured I must say, despite my disinterest in fluff - what is there will probably amount to a large percentage of what Reign players use. I like this lack, but in concert with how damage is dealt with it means any hurt suffered lasts a long while. However this is a minor quibble; I suspect it would be easy enough to re-abstract the hit locations and weapon damage into a form that suits me, my games and I better.

But as I alluded to in the short version, what really spoke to me when reading Reign is the way ideas leapt to mind as I read. This, I would say, is down to great writing more than the content; a less skilled author could have easily provided the same information in a way that was dry and unengaging. Oh, the content is there too, but on content alone there is, I think, less to differentiate Reign from other fantasy RPGs than some might claim. Its execution though... yeah. Reign is a book I could pick up if I was feeling short of ideas, knowing that a situation, plot or setting would rush from the page to my mind in double-quick time. Combine that with a plethora of thoughts and postulations arising from the random character generation process and for that alone I think the purchase was worth it.

But there was enough there to make me think I could run it, would run it, even if there are obstacles to overcome first, and other games ahead of it in line for the time being.

... but I'm still on a kick.

2007-12-12T00:47:00.000Z

For Sigur Rós, I mean. They have always been within my sphere - even when I somehow inexplicably saw them live and failed to appreciate them playing tunes from Ágaetis Byrjun when supporting Radiohead in the 2001 gig at South Park.

But there is something eternal and unending about their tracks. Almost like once you cotton on to their magic, it will hold you spellbound forever. Yes, Heima has something to do with this in my case - now my awareness is properly piqued; seeing them live even on screen is amazing - but it is more than that. Their tunes offer everything - salvation, isolation, inclusion, despair, love and hope.

Since Heima arrived I've only vaguely been able to listen to other artists - that is everything is couched in comparison and judged by their standard - making a lot of music (both previously known, or otherwise) hard to listen to and my emotional life feeling massively lacking; why is it that things I really, really like always leave me thinking more of the things I would really like but do not have?

Yes, it say a lot about how much of a sad individual I am that music can affect my perceptions so, but Sigur Rós are as close to perfection as it is possible to get in my limited and blinkered point of view. Sober or drunk, lonely or... (no, actually there is no or there), there just is nothing to compare. I risk running out of superlatives in my own mind whenever I contemplate their works - my obsession is that bad. Currently it is exhibiting in being up past bed-time (whatever time that may be) to listen in my post-office xmas do state of pish-ed-ness.

Their wonders will carry me through to sobriety, and with it work tomorrow. I am sure of this.

So I just saw Duke Special

2007-12-09T23:37:00.000Z

Well, last Wednesday - live, at the re-done Oxford Carling Academy (neé Zodiac).

If nothing else the man can put on a show. Yes, my immediate thoughts are unfortunately negative - the set composition was less than stellar in order, rather than content - but I came away most pleased by a great showman's performance.

True, if he had not played This Could be My Last Day as his second (and final) encore the evening would not have ended on quite the high it did - that song is a favourite for many reasons, not least because I should, and keep failing to, take the title as a motto to live by - but it was still a stellar gig. This should make me happy (and mostly it does), though it has this tendency to just leave me thinking "damn, I should go to more gigs."

The support act started just as we got there; their first song started promisingly - not blow you away, or even "want to see live" promisingly, but nice for a late night and a good whisky promisingly - but they quickly descended into pathetic comedy. They had a shortage of lyrics, and their front woman was clueless; combine this with the absurdity of a folk-y act wearing head torches a la whichever of The Orb or Orbital it was who popularised that mid-90s and I had a damn fine chuckle.

When the main act arrived the start of the set was lacklustre - I forget the first number, but the second was a nothing song based entirely on audience participation. I'm not a fan of AP in gigs as a whole - I go to gigs to be entertained by those performing, not the drunken cretins (myself included) in the audience - but it can work. Generally though I consider it important that if a performer is going to use AP then 1) the song should be a well-known to the audience and 2) there should be more to it than that. This qualified on neither count (at least as far as I was concerned).

However from the end of that ill-fated second number onward the performance was immense; the two others involved, aside from Duke Special himself, were a talented trumpeter/vocalist and a thoroughly eccentric, and wonderful, percussionist. All three were striking stage presences and more importantly had a real, observable chemistry between them up on stage - not least where (and whilst I found this absurd at the time, it is ten times more so in recounting and retrospect) the whole audience was entertained by the ringing of a bell or the striking or not of a cymbal whilst the two other protagonists encouraged expectation amongst the assembled. They played all but three or four songs from the album (Songs from the Deep Forest) , as well as a number of other tunes including some Kurt Weill covers - though not, unfortunately, Mack the Knife, which would have fit in nicely, in a set that massively overran the (absurd) stated curfew time and never again dipped below brilliant - even when the percussionist conspired to fall off the stage!

Engaging, charismatic and musically very sound indeed Duke Special will be worth return visits if his star keeps rising.

Heima

2007-11-15T22:01:00.000Z

Sigur Rós' film is fucking amazing - both the film and the music will blow you away.

Best DVD buy I've made by far.

Diary of a Puppeteer: entry two.

2007-11-04T21:23:00.000Z

A fine mess. Iniere is dead, killed by a “Brosengae” wench – an auditor from the bank if Tuall’s warning was correct. Nevertheless, the loss rids me of the concern that Trevan’s bumbling might have given him away and opens up a well of opportunity simply waiting to be tapped.

It all happened rather fast. No sooner had Iniere arrived for the meeting he demanded I host than Trevan managed to cut himself on a sword. Where did he get that, anyway? Iniere must have heard the crash, but not the cursing. The fool thought he was “preparing to fight Rhoubhe” by practicing with a blade; it would be funny if it weren’t so tragic, or so crucial that he maintains the illusion. Despite his injury he managed to excuse himself admirably thus preventing a long discussion with Iniere. Which reminds me: I have yet to teach him enough passable phrases with which to extract himself from conversations he should not be in.

Tuall turned up soon after, with news of a “rescue” of the Brosen woman. I had to fight him and Iniere to have as much as half a chance of information, but eventually annoyed each (or cross-pollenated enough suspicion) for Tuall to spill. “Angharad” had been wanting to meet with Iniere about “financial matters” on behalf of the Brosen Royal Bank, but after I left out the banking matters Parnien seemed to assume she was an old flame. “Trevan’s” decree that no-one was to stay in the tower rang in his ears and he set off to meet her, it being too late to expect his betrothed.

I set off later, hoping to listen in to these financial discussions, but Iniere had been slain in his bed at the inn – in the room this “Angharad” had booked previously (or so Tuall later explained). Brosen murdering Iniere makes little sense, unless his businesses had gone bad on him, so a ruse and slights combined; I have no clue who or whence the assassin, but frankly I don’t care. Iniere’s passing leaves a lot of mercantile territory open to the sharks, and I smell opportunity.

A bit of digging has turned up that Iniere’s will is to be read during the Tournament in Anuire, and who the likely inheritors might be. It will take some serious work to disrupt this but… the opportunity is too good to give up. Moreover, one of those who might come into riches is just my type of person – and could get up Agelmore’s nose, too. Yes, the need to go back to Anuire does carry risks; I am in two minds whether to openly seek Agelmore out and head off hostility or hide myself such that he does not notice my return. But such is thinking too far ahead, and Anuire may well have more imminent threats.

In the meantime, however, I have a meeting with Karvol – Iniere’s clerk. The rumour mill suggests he will be lightly pensioned off despite his vast knowledge of the entire Iniere empire. “Trevan” will offer him terms, and backing, to take control of the Nentril-based operations… I intend to somehow sabotage the will reading, encourage enough in-fighting amongst the sharks – the major inheritors – such that a seizure of backwater, minor, incomes would not be noticed. I need Karvol on-side, and for that I will have to promise him a lot – his knowledge and expertise; I must appeal to his rancour at the way he is to be dismissed, to his greed and to his person.

And I have yet to figure him out…

Hot Fuzz

2007-10-27T14:30:00.000+01:00

I finally saw Hot Fuzz the other night, after I convinced myself to take advantage of cheap deals on Amazon and picked it up, along with Casino Royale and Pan's Labyrinth (neither of which I had seen before either, but at a price almost equivalent to renting them I figured why not?).

I stuck it in expecting a lot; Shaun of the Dead had me in stitches throughout, Spaced is - despite my initial not-grokking it back when it was first aired (a situation since rectified) - one of the best sitcoms ever made and I have a lot of time for Simon Pegg as a comic actor, going at least as far back as Big Train. It is perhaps my fault then that I found this offering disappointing to start with - high expectations are often a route to disappointment after all, and I found the slow set-up largely devoid of laugh-out-loud humour and lacking even in enough wry smiles to keep me truly entertained.

Persevering worked though; the chain of events surrounding the climax ramped up the pace, the humour and the interest and I did finally start emitting the guffaws that I had expected. I was left satisfied, glad to have seen the film, but feeling as though I am unlikely to re-visit it anytime soon. In my mind it suffers greatly from its big brother, where the same people (and actually, IMO a better-suited supporting cast - Dylan Moran for the win!) had a funnier premise (what isn't better with zombies!), a better script and a style that was fresher to the viewer and left a lasting impression that cannot help but to shape any opinion of this offering. I was guilty of expecting the same, perhaps better - refined by their experience - and thus not taking things at face value.

Overall I'm glad I picked it up and I might find when I do come to re-watch it that Hot Fuzz is one of those films where you benefit by knowing what will happen - knowing nods and winks (as recalled in flashback in the film itself) opening up the comedic angles earlier on than they do otherwise. But the experience didn't leave any lasting impression, any wow factor. It was an enjoyable film and that's all.

Dance, Monkey, Dance: The Diary of a Puppeteer

2007-10-27T10:44:00.000+01:00

Has it really been a month since Manzourian “disappeared”? I would never have guessed things would go so smoothly; there is no sign of Rhoubhe taking retaliation for the ceasing of the rain, and Trevan has been accepted fully as steward of the tower by the locals. Now, the first steps taken, my work begins in earnest.

A week ago a missive arrived from Iniere, requesting – no demanding, the cheek! – that he be granted reign to use the tower as a stage for the meeting of he and his fiancée, some Boeruine sprat. “Trevan” has acceded to this request. It would seem churlish not to and, given our already frosty relationship with Castle Nentril itself, astute to both curry favour with and gather information on the other major player in the region. Besides, Iniere’s coin will prove a useful bonus, at least that which remains after “security” has been dealt with.

To that end I made a point of seeking out that elf – Tuall, I think - and his rag-tag bunch of followers. The people seem to like him despite his heritage, and they have thus far serviced in warning of Rhoubhe’s incursions to satisfy me their presence would be desirable. Any Boeruine is an inviting target for the Manslayer, after all, and the retinues accompanying Iniere and wife will need watching too. I promised him coin, but arranged no fee; one can hope he conveniently forgets… I feel I must be wary of him though, so withholding may not be wise; he did not seem convinced of Trevan when they first met, and he has the manpower to prove a thorn with a fatal prick.

Regardless, enough is in place that I can look forward, to the staged meeting and the tournament beyond. I have a fortnight or more to make the necessary arrangements. I must look up someone who can provide knowledge of Iniere and Boeruine as while I will learn more in the meeting itself I require enough in advance to brief Trevan such that he will not give himself away. More importantly though, I must try to focus him, and hope he can learn and practice enough to employ a cantrip or two when the great and the good require a show... and that will be a challenge for certain.

Other people are here for my entertainment!

2007-10-14T17:11:00.000+01:00

I don’t mean this in an arrogant, egotistical, “I am centre of the universe” kind of way – I’d need to think a lot more of myself for that – but to a certain extent I do seem to carry around with me the attitude that other people exist to for my entertainment. This means that in the rare moments when I am a happy bunny and have interesting and friendly people around me I feel as if they are to be engaged with, or not, on a whim (as I intimated when I mentioned the difference between loneliness and being alone). It has also surfaced into my conscious mind that a similar but subtly different principle informs my gaming habits and practices, and ultimately probably encapsulates why I prefer to GM rather than play.

That is to say: I get a large slice of my gaming enjoyment from sitting back and watching things unfold, and this is heightened if I have had a hand in setting up the situation concerned, as opposed to playing an integral part in the unfolding. This has been to the forefront of my thinking as I reflected on last weekend’s TROS game and why the final scenes of that weekender worked so well for me. Whilst this threw it up as a conscious consideration, the fact I enjoy watching the creativity of others is something I have long been aware of – it first came to my attention back when I was regularly playing Neverwinter Nights online 5 years ago. It was, in hindsight, the primary driving force behind the changes that I made in the summer of 2003 to the way I ran the campaign I was GMing in NWN. Yes, the discussions with others (most notably Ian O’Rourke) are what made me aware of different priorities, approaches and so forth with specific reference to RPGs and helped me pinpoint exactly what principles most appealed to me – and these extend past gaming, most notably into preferences in TV and film – but looking back now it is the desire to set things up that makes this tick, with me resting on the full knowledge of the situation, if not exactly how events will resolve.

The priorities I straightened out back in 2003 before I began to get back into tabletop RPGs again still stand: and I value a narrative focussed on pushing the PCs into personally resonant choices and individually defining moments, salient revelations and lasting effect over action, self-betterment or wandering through events untouched on a personal level beyond the physical scars of a fight or two. I have never, as a player, been very good at ensuring I get this kind of play; in the past I have put this down to my lack of dominance at the table, a reticence to impose myself in order to get what I want but I suspect now that the real reason is perhaps that I don’t want it so much for myself – I am, and have always been, quite happy playing in the style served up. Instead, I want to see others experience this type of drama and create entertainment for me out of the in game events.

Why is this? I don’t know. I am continually astounded by how creative others can be if given the opportunity, though I have to concede that I may just have been very luck with whom I have gamed in this respect. Certainly not every gamer has it in them to provide the sort of entertainment I value most – hell, I doubt I do; like in life, in games the strength of each gamer will be different. It may just be my talent for self-deprecation speaking, but I do not consider myself particularly creative or inventive when it comes to gaming, so perhaps I value the creativity of others more highly as a result?

I function well when bouncing ideas off people, or when picking up on key phrases from someone else and turning them on their origin – I do minimal world-building, but what is done is almost always a strict reflection of information given to me in character pitches. The same goes for plotting, where unless I am directly building something around a PC I do not feel confident in what I am putting together. When playing I feel that I am spectacularly bad at anything that equates to problem solving or requires on-the-spot thinking - why I have a penchant for playing socially gifted characters given this, and my dislike for using social conflict mechanics I don’t know, it’s not exactly playing to my strengths! – but feel I’m much better at identifying and focussing on how I can get interplay going with other PCs, be that one showing another up, encouraging intrigue or just personal moments of connection, realisation, respect or understanding between two equally fictitious personalities. I have always been wordy, but tend not to see my use of words in the same way I see others’ usage; consciously intentional or not there was a session in my recently completed game (summarised in two parts here and here) where almost everything that was said struck me as perfect, but I said next to nothing that session, instead getting my wish – I was able to sit back and enjoy as the players ran away with the situation creatively hitting high point after high point.

I feel my GMing style does play to my strengths, and thus I actually believe in my ability as a GM (whereas I don’t about almost anything else). It also plays heavily to this desire to sit back and watch others. I nudge, nurdle and tweak, setting up opportunities for PCs to hit their straps and players to get their teeth into issues and aspects of play that they have indicated (either openly, or by my inferring from interactions) are desirable in the context of the current game. Flags, in technical terms, are raised to be seen and engaged with and generally speaking I have found if I manage to nail that engagement players will run away with it and I can often take a step back and just enjoy the ride as they interact with each other. Worst case is that that player wants to run away with the idea with an NPC, which involves me doing something more, but really only insofar as I need to act as a springboard to magnify their input, before looking for a way to turn its focus toward the rest of the group. Actually, no – worst case is that the player doesn’t spot it, or react, the chances of both reduced if I’m not the player.

The bonus is that when it comes off, this adds to everyone’s enjoyment – the player gets what they wanted brought into focus, and I, as GM, get to play audience. In the best cases players will react to each others flags, and I can observe without ever having to interject. Like being the parent nudging their kid on a sled over the lip of the slope, I know they may well not have got there without the work I did to set it up, but their enjoyment and involvement in the runaway descent is plain and the experience of knowing I facilitated that gives the warmest glow.

When playing I take care to set up the kinds of characters riddled with hooks, flaws and foibles that would act as flags if I were a GM, but because I’m not (however nominally) “in control” I have the tendency to ignore them in actual play unless given a gaping opportunity, such as towards the end of last weekend’s game, where it all opened up too invitingly to ignore. More than that, it opened up in a way that promised some form of sitting back and enjoying: the manipulations I made even as a player had direct consequences, at least as they were being planned, for the other PCs. It was, in short, not a million miles away from GMing that scene, especially given the knowledge of motivations as the resultant mini-scenes played out. Perhaps not as personally resonant or as thought out as my tweaks and nudges as a GM would have been, these little manipulations nevertheless were going to throw the spotlight onto other players and their contribution to the climactic moments of the game. Maybe this is why I take to playing social manipulators even when I do not have the range of social manipulation in life – it provides a mechanically supported way of throwing other people into focus and assuring I get a show to watch.

Hence the conclusion that I’m seeing other people as a form of entertainment.

It is not that I do not enjoy being an active part of proceedings: I do. Engineering situations to spotlight other people can actually takes some work to pull off, not least because some people (like me, perhaps?) do not want to be engaged. I would posit it is more down to different requirements to meet, or at least to maximise, the pay-off for the time put into a leisure activity.

The point? I may not have been looking hard enough or in the right places, but I have not come across any place for this “audience”-like motivation in gaming theory or discussion (or if I have do not remember). It is not a desire that can simply be sated by reading a book or watching film or TV as these are much more fundamentally passive entertainments and the (inter)active nature of gaming is a huge part of its appeal, and it is the interplay between a game being something you are a part of and yet also something you can sit back from and experience as an observer that is of key interest to me here.

Does anyone else have this desire to set things up for others to knock them down, preferably with a minimum of interference once it is underway? Does anyone else thrive in a game where they can just watch most of the time, or am I alone in finding this sort of pleasure in gaming when others would look to movies or novels? Does anyone else approach gaming – consciously or unconsciously – with an eye on the expectation that the other participants are there to entertain them?

Screw them over. Screw up. Die!

2007-10-14T13:18:00.000+01:00

So last weekend (6/7 October) I spent most of my time being someone else. Which was nice.

None of the dodgy car trouble that ruined my Wednesday, a nascent cold that turned me into nothing more than a snot factory, a raft of "things I should be doing this weekend", or a slight hangover resulting from drinks on Friday night managed to get in the way of me heading to Bicester for several hours of gaming. I had originally planned to only attend on the Saturday due to the aforementioned raft, but it quickly became apparent that in order for me to get anything out of it I would have to stay until the game ended on Sunday evening; the payoff for the character I ended up playing was so backloaded that to have dived out at the point we left things overnight and not seeing it through would have left a sour taste.

We were playing The Riddle of Steel - a crunchy, gritty medieval game I had heard of but never experienced before and given my unfamiliarity with the system, and the purported deadliness of TROS combat, I'd put forward an idea for a socially gifted manipulator. It began to look a limited, limiting choice early on; the pitch involved accompanying a noble's daughter on a visit to her betrothed in distant territories and it soon became clear the journey itself - for which the character was not set-up to play a major part - was going to take up most of the playing time. Trust in your fellow gamer is a fine thing though, and mine was repaid in spades once the final destination was actually reached around lunchtime on Sunday.

I had a central premise for the character, based around his forbidden love for the principal NPC in conflict with his loyalty and duty of service to her father. It became very clear in my mind that if the primary marriage was to go ahead, he would acquiesce on his personal desires for the greater good; if however the proposed union was going to have to be sabotaged for the good of the family, then there would be an opportunity for him to turn it into personal advantage and make his move for the girl. So when it became apparent that the marriage was a set-up to politically align the Lady's father with his enemies, weakening his position, my mind creaked into overdrive to try and play cards that would engineer an opening. What could be seen as the downside of this was that it required a thorough doublecross of the other three PCs.

Thankfully one-off games with a definite cut-off point makes this kind of move less generally annoying to other players and more appropriate as a result, so I decided to press ahead. The plan was to be engaged at a big, city-wide, social event for the nobility. My character and one of the other PCs not being nobles, they had to forge identities to even attend - thus setting one up for a cry of "imposter!" and providing a foolproof (or so I thought) method of accounting for the sergeant at arms. A pre-forged letter denouncing another of the party as mad, dangerous and in need of incarceration, signed "by the Baron" and sealed with his mark had been prepared to deal with another of the group back when she had seemed like a genuine threat to the life of the principal (hair-trigger, ultra-violent fighting noblewoman of unknown past... surely an assassin!). This ran into problems when her unknown past turned out to be that her deceased family were connected to the noble family ruling the city, and hosting the ball, only discovered as the group got into a coach on the way to the event. Still, easy enough to rectify, surely? Just hand the letter to the enemies of the hosts - the family the Lady had almost been erroneously married into - and somehow convince them to take action. Job done. The final PC was much harder to plan for, especially as although they had started out antagonistic to each other, there was more interaction, trust(?) and respect between them built over the course of the journey. This final PC was ostensibly the expedition's leader and would surely worry the most about the Lady's wellbeing? Ropey though it may be, I banked on the agent who had caused problems for the group throughout the river journey turning up at the ball, and cut him a deal, figuring that if he did cause a stir the burly priest would be forced to intervene, would wipe the floor with him (thus ensuring less guilt at causing the death of a colleague), but be distracted for long enough for me to make the getaway.

In the event, plans broke down in several places, as they are wont to do. In order to get the Sergeant into the ball at all, my character had been forced to give him intensive training in ettiquette - and taught him too well, such that he deflected suspicion when the alarm was raised; the priest spotted his liaison with the rival family, stirring suspicion, and the swordswoman noble did a fine job of preventing the would-be attacker from carrying out his role.

However the biggest mistake, and apt in the circumstance, was utterly underestimating the Lady Sienna. Love truly is blind(ing), and she had figured out events and took exception to his methods, fatally stabbing him, to his surprise, in a clinch before "using" him to dispose of the aforementioned agent.

It was a satisfying end for me; for the character to live or die is a non-issue at the end of games so long as the end, as and when it comes, is fitting. This fit like a snug glove, but then I had the benefit of watching things unfold from a knowing position. The GM professed to enjoy the complexities of the finale too - but again he was in full knowledge of events. The other players did not complain, though - and this is my reservation - having been out of the loop as events unfolded I imagine there could well have been more than a little "what the...?" based confusion and disappointment with where the curtain fell. I would like to think that after the event, when motivations and processes became open to all the outcome was appreciated. Certainly I think I would have enjoyed it from the other side - having been on the end of player-driven doublecrosses before - but equally would have found it frustrating at the time as things played out. I like to know what's going on, in fact I think it is a major reason why I prefer GMing to playing and is a central tenet of what I enjoy in RPGs (to be returned to in a later post).

In any case, it was an enjoyable weekend, and with all the others surviving, in some cases not fully aware (in character) of the hornet's nest stirred up around them, there might be a potential return at some point, which is not an unpleasant thought at all.

As for thoughts on the system? Crunchier, and using more dice, than I have a preference for, but given the design goals of the game it felt appropriate. Combat was complicated yet often amusing, and the slow pace of play balanced by the quick deadliness and resolution arising from landing blows. The ebb and flow and rhythm of how fights played out was interesting and a positive in the context. However I felt the real strength of the system was in the spiritual attributes - player-defined goals, drives, passions etc. which when brought into play reward the character with extra dice and thus greater chances of success, fundamentally making characters better at things that are important to them, and rewarding players who play to these strengths (and, in certain contexts, weaknesses), helping GMs to fit the game around the characters. In longer-term play they fluctuate, as they are also won and spent as XP, thus modelling shifts in priorities as goals are reached or thwarted. This kind of device is a nice addition to any system in my view - more for the power in players hands than for the XP effect - though given TROS is crunchier than my preference, I think I prefer the implementation of Passions in Mortal Coil to the SAs here.

Would I play it again? Certainly. Would I ever run TROS? No chance.

I'm struggling

2007-10-03T22:59:00.001+01:00

To come up with a positive post tonight, I mean.

There are a lot of things I could talk about - I've just watched Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait; I'm enjoying Pratchett's Making Money; Flight of the Conchords is proving every bit as promising as the trailers made it look.

But the latter two are still too nascent in my experience of them to deserve writing time and the former, whilst undoubtedly interesting, did not blow me away: it was fantastic in places, but as a whole it did not quite spark for me.

I guess I could note that last night I did laugh genuinely in mirth quite a lot - a combination of book, Conchords and BBC Three's airing of some series or other of Family Guy - which is everything I remember The Simpsons being back when it was fresh and funny on so many levels, and yet only watched in patches. Perhaps that's why it seems fresh, I've been exposed to enough to see its merits, but not too much to find it getting stale. Also - QI has been back for a few weeks and this is a true gem of British Broadcasting.

So funny stuff abounds, and this is good.

Frustration, Finance and a Night of Lost Gaming

2007-10-03T20:24:00.000+01:00

Should be gaming now, in fact.

Except the car wouldn't start; the oil pressure warning light came on. So within a week of my costly new insurance policy starting, within a week of the documents arriving from the DVLA to confirm the car is mine, and within 2 weeks of the annual service and MOT, I have a serious problem, and a potential need to invoke the home assist clause in the breakdown cover.

Joy.

The worst part is that it has happened on a Wednesday so I miss a week's gaming (but then it would; I don't use the car much - or indeed at all - on other days of the week), and a Wednesday before a weekend which might also (otherwise?*) have been chock full of gaming goodness. Not fun, and more aggravation and Stuff To Think About (tm) to add to career (hah!) ideas and financial decisions.

Still, things should prove solvable, if at a price.

And now I need to think about something positive to post to boot!

* It may still, regardless of whether or not the issue is fixed in time, but the potential loss gets my goat right now!

Gotan Project, and Other Recent Musical Finds

2007-09-27T23:02:00.000+01:00

New rule: for every negative post I put up from now on, I must write one positive one. OK, it is likely to last about as long as the intention to keep myself clean shaven once I've cleared the month's growth off for the umpteenth time, but it's not a bad idea. This counteracts tonight's earlier effort.

Gotan Project: I picked up their album La Revancha del Tango this week on a whim, knowing sod all about them except for hints of style (downtempo, loungesque, world not a million miles away from some of Thievery Corporation's work). I'm damn glad I did; its a fine collection of music, and I'll certainly be looking to pick up later releases (La Revancha... was 2001). In fact in lieu of writing more here back when I started it (a week ago) I went shopping for Lunático. If anything the latter is better - all in my opinion of course; it is more polished, more accomplished: hallmarks of the group having played together longer, perhaps. I'm left not entirely sure how to describe it - the name comes from a syllable basesd spoonerism of Tango, but the music is, to my ears, more than that. Loungesque, jazzy, cool and fucking excellent.

Fucking excellent actually fits for a description of all the music I've ended up acquiring in the past week. An unfortunate accident meant I damaged some CDs Garry had passed me when I was in Dundee in June/July; on discovering this I did what I should have done much earlier and rushed out to not only replace them, but acquire more of the artists concerned; so I now have three Mogwai albums and two Beta Band CDs to enjoy. Happy music to make you grin, uplifting or chilled dependent on the frame of mind when putting them on. Great stuff.

I was also enchanted by my only listen so far of PJ Harvey's White Chalk; I cannot expand on that description for now - hey, I had 10 new discs to get through! - but it was a work that left a firm first impression and I look forward to giving it the time it deserves.

I also picked up Thievery Corporation's Versions - in the end not so much because I like their stuff (I do; The Mirror Conspiracy ranks amongst my favourite albums), but because one of the mixes is of an old Ben Folds (well, Fear of Pop, but that was a 'Five era Folds side project) tune. Yes, I do rate Folds that highly, why? I found Versions disappointing in the end - too same-y and left little impression beyond being background music. TC's work normally encompasses a little more, and maybe I was expecting too much from what is a disc of remixes, but though it will get play it will not likely get many listens.

That said, for Versions to be the worst of the buys was lucky enough - the slight gamble on Daddy G's DJ Kicks album and an old Kristin Hersh title paid off well enough, but the biggest unknown of the bunch, And she Closed her eyes by Stina Nordenstam, has ended up enchanting me the most. Timid, almost muffled, vocals, and soft arrangements drawing ear, mind and mood alike to a thoroughly calm place. Quirky for certain and by no means everyone's cup of tea it has definite jazz and even *gasp* easy listening vibes at times if the elements are taken alone, but as a whole it transcends its limitations to reward on a fundamental level. Great late-night music (or last-thing, anyway; it's only 11 but I'm off to bed and to read Making Money) to boot, and a fitting accompaniment to an attempt to be a little brighter.

No matter how many times I told myself...

2007-09-27T21:00:00.000+01:00

This week I have repeated a mantra: "this will not be a bad week."

Unfortunately said repetition and attempt at positive thought had all the effect of an auto-cue on George W. Bush's oratory powers and a litany of bad stuff has happened and negative thoughts have filled my mind. There have been positives, too, but they mainly involve retail therapy, the Conchords, drinking Guinness, and music (to be discussed later).

Whine? Yes. Meekly poking fun at self? Check. All doom and gloom? Hope not.

What I had felt determined (as much as I ever do, anyway) was going to be at least "above average" as weeks go has turned out to be a mixed bag, with more bad than good thus far (and since it's Thursday night, barring a miraculous Friday its as good as condemned). Bad points of note include failing, by virtue of losing the plot, to grasp opportunities fashioned; the loss of the freedom that came with having the house to myself; managing to injure each of my hands in unrelated incidents - minor scrapes (one splinter, one blister) but annoying all the same; and the overriding one is the sheer mind numbing tediousness and resultant tiredness stemming from work.

I have most definitely reached the point where I cannot bear to continue where I am work-wise any more, but the reason for this is in part why I am finding it so hard to look for anything else - virtual brain death during evenings and weekends (the other factor being not knowing what to do). There are other frustrating reasons for this aside from the menial and soul-destroying nature of the work itself. Notable here is that the one person whom I really liked has left (and I really need to open a line of communication there again...); those still there are pleasant enough, but I don't feel an awful lot of affinity with any of those I know. Then there are those I don't which is a different sort of frustration - one that I will get anywhere, certainly, though perhaps amplified in situ by the demographic of the office. I was all set to attempt to talk to new people, broaden horizons and so forth, but timings, situations and my own reticence to open myself up to the possibility of making a fool of myself (aka stepping out of my comfort zone, or other such psychobabble) all got in the way as ever, and at times the place seems so cliquey as to not be worth it anyway. Again, probably no different anywhere else but it is the here and now open to analysis, not some etheric other.

Reading between the lines: I'm a lonely single bloke with little or no self-confidence in an office full of attractive women (that's the socio-phobic geek in publishing for you; there's a tragi-comic novel in it somewhere). The eye candy is nice and all, but it throws my frustration needle off the scale as my mind goes into overdrive as I berate myself for my social failings.

Anyhow, outside of work I thought it might be a decent week, but between the return from holiday of my mother ending my having full run of the house, the acquisition of splinters helping my brother move furniture into the van he hired (for moving house, which he did on Tuesday; another source of self-beration - my younger sibling has a career path and has just bought his second rung house on the ladder that is property ownership, in London no less), and a serious lack of sleep, life has managed to keep throwing minor little annoyances at me. These wouldn't rank of note at all except for going against the planned grain; little things whittling me down, and doing so whilst I have been ineffective in encouraging good thoughts. My mind has been constantly trying to drag me down further, but the positive thinking mantra may have helped curtail some of these thought patterns though - its hard to think about anything much if you're mentally screaming at yourself over and over!

But despite nothing going to plan and the bad outweighing the good in many ways, I grin as I type because it's impossible not to with such good, happy, music playing, and I know I'll get to dip into a new Pratchett before I drift off to sleep tonight.

This life, it is enigma.

Life is teasing me...

2007-09-20T21:34:00.000+01:00

Title says it all; draw your own conclusions.

Add "or so it seems" for accuracy.

The World Twenty20

2007-09-19T18:03:00.000+01:00

So England are, again, prematurely out of a tournament showcasing a (format of a) game they came up with. Joy. And the new ODI and T20 captain, Paul Collingwood, has already got himself in hot water by visiting a *shocked horror* strip club during the tournament.

Bah. He did nothing wrong as far as I read the coverage, but he has presided over a disastrous challenge. The win over Zimbabwe was nothing less than expected (despite the opponent's heroics against the Aussies in their previous match). Since then there have been three loses, two of which were marred by abundant basic fielding errors and lame collapses; limp performances where England never so much as threatened to compete. I have no such complaints about the loss to New Zealand, which did go to the last over: whilst England did throw it away some through a terrible penultimate over they were at least at the races for the duration. As I type, India look to be racking up a huge score in what will be England's last game of the tournament; it smacks of another limp effort, and simply not good enough.

Sour grapes? Mutterings from a glory-hunter or new supporter drawn in by Ashes success 2 years ago? No. I started really following England's fortunes in cricket way back in the early-mid 90s when they couldn't win a game to save their life. I'm used to seeing my side lose - especially in the shorter format - and that doesn't bother me a jot. What does is seeing meek efforts that disgrace the shirt, countless errors that would embarrass schoolboys or village cricketers from players we know to have true class.

Oh how I wish the fight was there. They talk a good game, but lately haven't played much of one (even when they have won).

Edit: And limp is rightly the word; Stuart Broad just bowled the most expensive over in Twenty20 history: Yuvraj Singh taking 6 sixes from it. The depths are being plumbed, and I cannot see England saving face by getting close to their target of 219. So barring a miracle that will be two world cups in a row (50-over and T20) where England have failed to win so much as a match against decent opposition.

The Difference Between Loneliness and Being Alone

2007-09-17T22:02:00.000+01:00

My Better Judgment (that part of me not on the beers) caught up with me and demanded some self-censoring edits. Oh well. Up it goes again.

First the blindingly obvious - I am both, but they are far from the same thing. That out of the way, what is the point of this? Well, the biggest problem I have is loneliness, so it may go some way to answering "what is the problem."

As much as I will grumble to myself about how I hate "being me" this hyperbolic mental ranting disguises a fundamental flaw in that thinking: I enjoy my own company. I like being on my tod. There is, of course, a kicker here, and in this case it is that the above is only true when it is a meaningful choice to be alone. When I start hating myself - and inevitably I do - is when I end up spending a lot of time on my own as a default position, without feeling that I have a choice. In other words: when I get lonely.

I have been lonely now since the summer of 2003, the last time I was sharing a house with someone I was genuinely happy to be living with, which not coincidentally was the last time I had easy and regular contact with (a) friend(s) living in the same town. What I am coming to see as a self-defining trait is that I don't generally like to spend all my time with other people, but I damn well feel the need to have it as an option. Yes, this will sound selfish; it has a whiff of "other people are there for my enjoyment" about it. Nonetheless, once I am shorn of the (perceived?) option of spending time with people I like, I quickly become a withdrawn, moody, self-hating ball of despair. I miss massively the days when I was at uni in Bristol - not because they were always better (I had a torrid time in my final year, living alone for 6 months of it and that really didn't agree with me), but because there were always people about that I could just phone up and go out to meet. It is that accessibility of friends, and the ease of arrangements that I miss, possibly more-so than the actual people if I'm honest (though I do miss folks, too). Yes, as we age and days fill up with other things such pick-me-up arrangements do get harder to maintain, but mine vanished altogether after that first year in Bath, and have never returned.

Currently what I most hate is walking back to an empty house every night, knowing that - the one night a week I game aside - there is no hope in hell of me seeing (or most likely even speaking to/receiving email from) anyone but my co-habitant. And lets face it: as much as we may love our mothers dearly, they are not first choice for company. Thus my being alone is not perceived as a meaningful choice, and hence my loneliness.

One could argue to that I could do more to keep in contact with the friends I have. There is truth to that, however there is also truth to the fact that, even counting the gaming group, I have no friends living within 10 miles of me and thus not available off the cuff. It is also true that most are a lot further - many not even visitable for a weekend without taking time off work to travel (or at least couldn't before I got the car) - and whilst I admit culpability in being crap at keeping regular contact, I feel the need to stress that many of those I'm talking about are, by their own admission, worse at it than me!

So, I need new friends - local friends. However there is a snag: I don't make friends easily at all. Sure, I can get on well with people, generally speaking, but somehow it never seems to click from that getting along to actual friendship and the associated doing of things, contacts and so forth that one associates with the term. I do not meet a lot of people, which compounds the issue, and I have always been terrible at initiating any kind of contact with people I don't know, limiting this further - I only meet those who introduce themselves, or are introduced to me. There are not very many of them - the latter constrained by my lack of local friends, and the former... well that is out of my hands.

So a large part of the problem is that I cannot fathom how, unless I can build some serious self-belief, I could ever approach other people and introduce myself - it just scares the crap out of me for some reason, and that's before encompassing not knowing what to say. Confidence and self-belief are two attributes that have been sorely lacking for a long while. I could also use some hope. But most of all I need an idea of how to make change stick. How to face my fear of failure and win, rather than resigning myself to not trying, on the basis that by doing so I'll never have to face a loss I didn't chose to take.

All I want is for the loneliness to end, so I can go back to enjoying my time alone (and time spent with others, too, naturally). Something big needs to change - within me, and without (location, probably) - for that to happen. The without I cannot see happening until I get insight on a longer-term job or career move: financial constraints and the "where am I going" niggle impede me.

Perhaps the biggest thing I need to do is sort that out, to make a decision on where, what and how I am going to work. Maybe if I can somehow force that issue, everything else will look up again. Lord knows I cannot stay where I am, feeling my brain atrophy with each passing moment and wearing out my (already tired) eyes by staring at XML all day!

There must be something that can spark interest in me, beyond playing games where one pretends to be someone else entirely; or maybe I do hate myself that much after all! (that was a joke).

To end on more positive notes - now that I own the car, once I've sorted out all the attendant guff (insurance, MOT and Tax all up for renewal in October), it should give me the freedom to try and address some of the dropped contacts. Of course, the effort of arranging things will fall on my head (as ever it did; as I said before I'm better at contact than those concerned!), and I'll have to get over the hump that periodically strikes me with this situation, but day trips would be possible, as might weekends in places where, if reliant on the trains, options were previously curtailed. I think I'm probably due a change of primary email address now too, which is as good an excuse as any to get back in communication with those who I wish to retain as contacts.

Also to point out that I've written this whilst feeling motivated to write, not whilst feeling particularly trapped in my own mind. Hopefully I'll feel more of the former if the latter stays away. Whilst there is a lot to be said for Rosa's advice for me to "STOP THINKING!!!", short of an on/off switch for my brain it is not something I am oft able to do. I know how frustrating this can be for those around me, so thank you for putting up with it, and I do wonder whether my overthinking would be an interesting and positive side to me, or source of potential mirth, if my mind were to lighten up some...

Splitting Heirs: Afterthoughts

2007-09-11T21:57:00.000+01:00

With a few sessions still to go Paul, who was playing Scharf/Rudi dropped me an email:

Quote:

Hey Graham, hope you're psyched for next session.

I'd just been thinking about how much I'd been enjoying this campaign, probably because it has all the elements I appreciate as a player but rarely get. Then I thought, what did you plan to get out of it? I know you really wanted to run Warhammer, in this set-up - it was always your main idea in the suggestions you sent out. What were you looking forward to? Has it turned out as you wanted? What plans and scenes were you hoping to get out?

Just wondering, is all.

To which I responded at the time, but I think it’s a good basis for summing up my feelings about how the game played out.

My primary objective in any game I run is to push for the type of game and play I find myself unable to get (whether through the style of GMing, me not actively pursuing it, or most commonly a combination of the two) when I am a player. That generally means I am shooting for intense, character-centred drama, pushing the protagonists into hard choices and situations which encourage growth and change in the characters, whilst maintaining a backdrop of interesting events. I also like resolution - whether it be total, final, or just a central issue. This game resolved the "how" of succession, assuming the barony survives, if not the war which would determines that survival, whilst we had individual resolutions for the characters, too: Rudi's secrets coming out, and his overcoming his fear of women to end up a husband-to-be having upheld the vows he made to himself and the Barony; Helena's mourning period ended and she has found love, as well as forged a place for herself of right, assuming, that is, the war can be won; Pou meanwhile was forced to live up to his position and take responsibility not just for himself but for all – he was forced into a position where he felt he had to act because it was the “right” thing to do, however much he did not want to take that step. He also married and started to assume more responsibility in his personal life in a mirror to his professional elevation.

By and large, then, the game has delivered what I set out to achieve, with a prime example being the wedding session (one of the reasons I wanted to end it there - nothing else could come close for me). Whilst the game did not progress exactly how I had envisaged when we began, it was not to its detriment. If I had been firmer with pacing, scene framing and such then I may have realised my initial (episodic) vision better, but we wouldn't have had a lot of the time and space, and the smaller events, that helped make the game work.

In some ways I had hoped that the players would pursue more individual agendas; resolvable conflicts between protagonists (read PCs) is something I have realised that I value highly in my gaming, and the set-up of the game was in part designed to encourage this. (That, and I much prefer characters with a degree of gravitas or authority; doing the ordering about is a lot more interesting and open to choice than being told what to do). Bits and pieces of this were seen, but perhaps not as much or as weighty as I would have liked. Perhaps the lack of system was detrimental here (I know I’d like to do similar sorts of conflicts with a solid systemic backing in the form of Mortal Coil or other similar system), but I guess in part a degree of backing down was to be expected: inter-PC conflict as an express element of games is at odds with the usual "party" mode of play and not necessarily to everyone’s tastes.

Beyond that... well, nothing was overly planned. I had initially hoped to have Mörder and his associated underlings appear more - indeed I had envisioned playing out the war - but I could not figure out how to fit them in without rushing into the war situation, and it became clear to me early on in execution that this game would suffer (in my handling, at least) if the war was expressly played out. The conflict with Mörder worked better as a constant threat and pressurizing factor in the end.

I might also have liked to centre more on the council meetings themselves but for two factors - Lady F's physical distance from things when in Drachenmalstein, and more pertinently the difficulties of playing several NPCs in the same scene. Aside from differentiating them convincingly there are issues with giving each screen-time, motivations and so forth, not to mention the ease of forgetting who was doing what with which agenda! The latter is much easier to keep in check if NPCs remain more discrete from each other.

I've thoroughly enjoyed it all told; the first few sessions were about bedding in to GMing again, and there were one or two where it dragged a bit here and there, but for the most part the energy was maintained and I have felt wholly rewarded by the actual play you the players created from the situations I threw at them.

It did feel a little cheap doing the final wrap up as I did, that is to say as a cutscene watched by the PCs, not something they had an active role in, however it was about the only way I could wrap on time – yes, I really, really need to work on my pacing! – and I felt (and I think they did too) that a passive plot resolution was better than none. I skimmed or omitted details in the summary above for ease of reporting, lack of memory and clarity etc., but I think it was generally well received – as indeed the game as a whole was.

I am, however, glad it has ended. As much as I enjoyed it, and as much as the players, characters and events kept me entertained I believe strongly that every game has a shelf-life, and for me this campaign reached it after the high of the wedding session. It had climaxed for me in terms of payoff, and once heights have been reached that will not be re-attained my motivation begins to fade. It became very much about shaping up for a convenient (yet appropriate) ending, and I think it worked out despite that. Although my accounts are more underwhelming since the wedding – a side effect, no doubt, of my desire to close down – the actual play kept its verve and edge until the last.

Enough was left open to allow a return in future but I don’t think the desire will be there. The campaign as it ended up was self-contained and resolved to a point where it doesn’t demand a return; pastures new give rise to different options, whilst a sequel always carries the risk of not living up to its progenitor.

Splitting Heirs: Session Eighteen – The Finale.

2007-09-11T20:01:00.000+01:00

An additional reason for a short, points-based summary this time; as well as being behind, the meat of this final session was all to do with a single scene at the emergency council meeting called by Lady F, and short of transcribing it in its entirety (which I didn't do, nor could have done, at the time) there is nothing - prose or points - that will recount it accurately. Indeed, prose may lose the points of salience.

The first thing to say is that in the lead up to this session I was informed individually by Pou's player and Lady F's player about their plans for the meeting, one in broad strokes, the other in more detail. Whilst they had very similar end positions, their means to fulfil their agenda were very different. In these exchanges Lady F, after hearing about Pou having visited the Baron, wished to change her plans slightly to find Pou before the meeting began. I ruled against this on the grounds that it was tight fitting everything into the short (game) time between where we left off the previous week and where we picked up for this.

Lady FitzCarstein’s agenda was to call for unity – proffering apologies and/or terms where required in order to gain it – and set up a new power structure in the Barony, one that had more chance of lasting the forthcoming war and beyond, and tentative plans to help ensure the beyond mattered. She had Rudi/Scharf onside and planned, too, to propose formally to him after her plans had been laid out and (hopefully) accepted.

Pou gazumped her, however, bringing to the meeting armed Kupfers in place of the usual array of serving staff, and calling upon them to pressurise those attending. He felt pressured into his precipitous action by the amount of politicking, backbiting and in-fighting now regular amongst the councillors, and had been stoked up by Herbert’s backing. Unfortunately Pou was hurried into his move, and was not the most willing or forward thinking of leaders, making for the slightly ridiculous position of a man who had just seized power by force making arguments about how they should prove they could trust each other in order to guarantee their freedoms, their roles and the future of the Barony. Pou had seen the Baron earlier and either had tacit support for his plan, or the Baron had mistakenly thought it was longer in the planning and viewed the Kupfers whom had been placed legitimately around the castle for genuine defensive purposes as agents in a coup that already had him at a disadvantage, but his clear lack of planning and secretive execution of his move soon grated on the assembled. As Pou floundered, Herbert and Georg used the situation to push for some home truths under Pou’s stated aim of openness and honesty and they managed to force out into the open many of Helena and Rudi’s past discretions – banditry and murder (even if in self defence) amongst them. The fractious atmosphere – Pou had declared them prisoners until their allegiances and intentions could be proven or avowed – was made worse by Rudi refusing to take Pou seriously, which just flustered de Burns more. Eventually however, with the meeting progressing not at all, Helena was asked direct questions she saw fit to answer, and in doing so took back the floor, having clear plans where Pou had nothing in place.

Her re-structuring would, ironically, put Pou in the position he had found himself forced to take: as Palatine or Paladin, essentially running things in name of the Baron, with Herbert’s daughter Cornelia as his assistant or Seneschal. Herbert would retain his mayor-ship and would also be a trusted advisor to Pou, whose role would be non-hereditary and could be relinquished once a proper heir to the Baron was found. For her part, Helena said she would forego Drachenmalstein and return it to (in his eyes) its rightful owner: Georg. Instead she would, fate willing, take the Duchy which Mörder now held as her own; if not, she would be dead – for she fully intended to firstly defend against the inevitable assault from the south, her last act as Lady of Drachenmalstein, then beat it back, with the aid of her father and the Knights of the Raven – skilled warriors in the service of Morr who counted her father and brother Jurgen alike as members. Despite his irrelevance to proceedings – he was dead drunk and beyond caring – Helena even offered concessions to Brunnenhing, promising him aid in the setting up and maintenance of profitable trade roads through his lands. There was a murmur around the table, and even those who begrudged the source of the ideas and plans had to concede that it beat all other options open to them hands down. There just remained the need to swear oaths to that effect. Each in turn swore on something they held dear, until Pou was satisfied that the best possible outcome had been achieved. The meeting concluded shortly thereafter, with Rudi tendering his resignation now his future (with Helena) and his past (his not being Captain Reinhardt Scharf) were clear.

(At this point the real substance of the campaign concluded; all that remained was to tidy up some loose “plot” threads to bring the curtain down on the bigger picture)

As they broke up the meeting, Pou having long since motioned the Kupfers to stand down, news filtered through that the Templars had found Josephine, and were bringing her back to Himmelfeuer for the Trial the Baron had desired. As everyone gathered to meet them, a location was picked for the dispensing of Sigmar’s justice – a patch of open ground overlooked by the Baron’s private chambers where he was said to be very unwell. With the council in attendance Ritter, Jaeger and Brunner set about their process, questioning the girl in turn with heavily weighted questions. However as the trial progressed the three Witch Hunters turned their attention away from the girl; her mother, Magda, was compelled to speak in her place, at first in defence of her daughter. However as Magda was questioned, the tone and questions the Templars used became almost ritualistic, until Josephine was pronounced clean of taint, and in her place Magda – clearly struggling without success – was compelled to sit in the trial chair. The Templars were invoking some divine incantation, their words binding Magda to her seat; then suddenly her face fell, revealing some otherworldly bestial fury. Magda, the silent, sweet and shy concubine of the Baron, turned out to be a supernatural evil being, a vampire, and the Templars pronounced their terrible judgment on the creature they had bound to the chair: each shot her twice with their sanctified weapons, then cast chair and still thrashing beast into the waiting pyre.

As the flames took her, and smoke began to fill the sky, two shouts from the castle made all cast their eyes elsewhere. The first was a cry of alarm and for a doctor, as the Baron had suffered a heart attack as Magda’s nature was revealed. The second, every bit as urgent, called all to gaze southward; the smoke from the pyre was as nothing compared with the billowing blackness that rose on the southern horizon: the forests were on fire which meant only one thing – Mörder’s invasion had begun.

(Final thoughts, interpretations and explanations to follow at some point).

I just remembered...

2007-09-10T22:10:00.000+01:00

Why I both love and detest Tangency (RPGnet login required): There's always someone more fucked up, more attention seking, and even more pathetic than me or you. Even when, in some cases or moments, that might take some doing.

Inevitably they are also more popular; it's the way of the geek world!

Recent Reading

2007-09-10T18:32:00.000+01:00

I don't read nearly as much or as often as I'd like to these days for one reason or another - mainly ocular and mental tiredness. Some weeks I'm lucky if I manage to get through New Scientist before the next copy drops through my door; other, better, weeks see me making use of my 40 minute bus commute to read.

Last week was one such, when I read a book that entertained me greatly and then touched me profoundly when the tone changed suddenly at the end. The book in question? the late Harry Thompson's Penguins Stopped Play, chronicling his lifelong love of amateur cricket. Not having read or heard of The Captain Scott Invitational XI before despite a previous book by another of its founders, I found the whole thing charming. I found the humour spot on, the eccentricities engaging and the personalities interesting. Being the cricket nut that I am (though a little beach/park cricket aside I have never played; perhaps another point of resonance, as neither had the author before the team was set up) the subject matter was otherwise familiar and compelling and I actively looked forward to my commute and the occasion it afforded me to lose myself in the Scotties' exploits. I found myself cheering the split from the Layabouts despite the potential loss of humour, and really enjoying the reporting of the matches once everyone was wont to try. But perhaps more enjoyable were Thompson's descriptions of the locations: he really sold me on Buenos Aires as somewhere to visit (though doubtless I will forget or find somewhere more appealing by the time I ever have the time and finance to think of a proper holiday), and his verve for doing more than just the cricket whilst the Scotties were touring was admirable and inspiring.

The core of the team came over as so likable that by the end when he talks first of the death of one of his teammates, and then of his own diagnosis with cancer, I was genuinely moved. If I were less lazy, more rich and had more time where I felt free (as opposed to time when I am technically free but don't feel it - of which I have a lot), and if it were not the end of summer and thus the worst time to inquire, I would be sorely tempted to follow the instinct that caught me in that moment (and indeed which made me google for the website) and look up the team - to some end or other but alas...

The other book I read recently that struck me deeply was Cormac McCarthy's The Road. I found this work to be one of the single best pieces of descriptive writing I have ever come across, and it is the only book I have ever read which immediately made me think: fuck, I want to film this! Not that I will mind, though hopefully someone with cinematic talent will.

Yes the characters are bland and the plot is thin, but the evocative descriptions and the associated prose more than make up for it and it had quite an impact. So much so I palmed it off on others, which I very rarely do.

Dog Soldiers

2007-09-10T00:17:00.000+01:00

Can't believe I'd not seen this before... but my god what a good film that was.

Sean Pertwee is one of those actors that I both hate, and yet adore - his voice grates like fingernails on a blackboard but his presence is second to none and he was cast perfectly in his role. The camera work and direction is where the film really blew me away though - sharp, urgent and scary; the atmosphere maximised for effect.

Can't say I thought the twist was the best ever, although it did surprise me. I just felt it a little weak in context, though I guess it works if the "camp" Ryan refers to early is the farmhouse and he was a wolf all along. However that just makes Cooper's training exercise look pointless - the clear inference was that Special Ops were hunting dogs, not dogs themselves. And even if Ryan did have a "first trip" that led him to meet Megan and get turned, why send for a squad when there have been disappearances all along, and a missing army squad would be official "lets investigate" news?

Best not to think about that, and enjoy what is presented, I think. I found the whole thing thoroughly British and thoroughly enjoyable, even if it was too dark to make out what was going on at times.

Absolutely brilliant, and a perfect gaming muse to boot.

The 2007 Cricketing Summer

2007-09-08T23:40:00.000+01:00

The English summer of (international) cricket came to a close today as England somehow managed to cruise to a 7 wicket win in the seventh, and decisive, one-day game against the touring India side. I've not posted anything about the sport this summer as a result of a number of factors - highest amongst them the fact that this has been the first year that I have been stuck at work so unable to listen to web-streamed radio commentaries and there has been no terrestrial TV coverage.

There is also the fact that the weather was as bad as it was (7 degrees at Headingly in June during the Test series against the West Indies for example), and the quality on show was not always high or competitive.

A brief summation of results doesn't look too bad, but equally not too good. West Indies were seen off 3-0 in Tests, but recovered to win the ODIs 2-1 and share the Twenty20 Internationals too, whilst India won their Test series 1-0 and lost the ODIs 4-3. As always with Cricket, the results alone don't tell the whole story. The Test they won, India dominated utterly, but England had had just as much dominance in the first game only to have it snatched from them by a not-given LBW shout and the closing in of the rain that blighted the first half of the season; the final game petered out as India played safe for the series win, though I think with some better luck with umpiring - the poorest aspect of the summer by some way - they would have been better placed to push for a match win, too.

From a personal point of view, I think the layout of the summer was all wrong. Seven ODIs is far too long a series (as most people in this country seem to agree), and the Windies' Test side, Shiv Chanderpaul apart, are poor and unworthy of the four Test series they were given for the time being, whilst the India series was always going to be keenly contested, and felt too short with only the three matches. Certainly the summer would have looked more appetising if the better touring side had had the greater share of Tests.

It has, however, been interesting almost despite the games - foul luck with injuries gave chances to players who were nowhere near selection a year ago, and to a one those who came in excelled themselves. Well, OK, Owais Shah did not cover himself in glory in his Test appearance at Lords when Vaughan was out injured, but he came back strong with his ODI performances.

There is no rest, however, as the team fly out to South Africa for the Twenty20 World Cup, the team packed full of surprises; Chris Schofield is the biggest of them. The selectors went back on all 8 yeas of Duncan Fletcher's thinking and have packed the squad with so-called "specialists" based on the domestic Twenty20 performances, and Schofield - who couldn't get a county to play him not so long ago - covered himself in glory enough to catch the eye. Strange, and bold, moves such as this will go one of two ways: either it will work, and England's extra experience in the format will pay dividends with a good showing, or it will backfire spectacularly as we find that journeymen county pros simply cannot live with top class internationals. I know which my money would be on.

I miss not being able to watch the cricket in the summers; highlights packages do not do it for me, and never could. Thankfully Test Match Special is on-going, and Cricinfo's online text coverage means scores are generally easily followed, but between working now and the loss of Tests on free-to-air TV this summer has been the least interesting for a while for me. There wasn't even an Oval-gate equivalent to liven things up. That said, with finds like Stuart Broad and Ravi Bopara proving themselves and a larger nucleus of good, and ready, players proving themselves the future looks promising, even if I will not be able to hear and see most of it.

Not sure what the point of this post was really, but I felt I had to write something. So I did.

I really need to rant

2007-09-07T17:56:00.000+01:00

So just picture a torrent of crap whinges, exclaimations, angry jibes and lamentations about life, the universe and everything here.

I'm not actually going to rant about everything I need to rant about because I have done so too many times in the past and it really gets old - not just to read or hear, but to write or say, too.

My emotional coffin has warped; I am a walking mental scar. Or to sum up: not a happy bunny (but when was I ever?).

Wedding Reflections

2007-08-28T18:57:00.000+01:00

Well, I've been back in Oxford for over a week now following Garry and Rosa's wedding. Prior to this I didn't know it was possible to have a hangover from smiling too much. The return home certainly plunged me back into the mediocrity of everyday life which the long weekend away was completely lacking, and left me wallowing in the loneliness of my life down here.

What struck me most - apart from the sheer volume of alcohol consumed - was how thoroughly great all the people were, no matter whether they were Garry's workmates from Dundee itself, or Rosa's friends and family who jetted in from around the globe. Everyone I had the pleasure of speaking to was great fun, got on with everyone else, and most importantly at least appeared to enjoy themselves thoroughly.

The example that perfectly encapsulates the friendly atmosphere for me though was when Rosa's brother and sister-in-law, Ed and Marika, offered to spare me the horrors of the return trip on the train (I had been delayed by 95 minutes on the way up because some inconsiderate person threw themselves in front of a train south of Birmingham, causing me to miss my connection) by ferrying me down to Oxford (essentially door to door) in the car they had hired to get to London on the same day I was due to leave. I had only met them on the Friday evening, although I believe I chatted at (rather than to, I blame the booze!) them some at the reception on the Saturday and Sunday's adventures in beach cricket and pubbage offered plenty of further chance to chat and get along.

Basically it felt like I was smiling all day every day from the moment I stepped off the train on Thursday evening until sometime during the lift back on Monday (which I was grateful to receive) when tiredness kicked in and overwhelmed my sense of well-being. Credit must go to all those I met, those I'd met before and those I met for the first (and likely last) time alike. Garry and Rosa somehow manage something that not many people I have ever met can do: they make me feel at ease, such that the real me can shine through; such that I can relax and enjoy myself; such that I don't feel the need to whinge (all the time, anyway) or curse existence and such that I can come out of my shell and talk to the fine people they surround themselves with; in truth there was more than just the alcohol to that.

For that I owe them a debt of thanks: a thanks for being good friends, a thanks for inviting me to attend their wedding and share in the joy that the event brought them, and their guests. A thanks for putting a smile on my face, even if it was just for a long weekend.

Splitting Heirs: Session Seventeen

2007-08-27T23:21:00.000+01:00

A shame, but a necessary evil, that I am continuing to have to wrap up this AP with bullet-points. It really doesn’t do the experience justice in my mind, but then again might make for easier reading, and a more focussed record.

The following events took place over about a week.

Lady FitzCarstein had the auditors from Nuln to convince in her bid to acquire a single cannon to aid in the defence of Drachenmalstein. The meeting went well, with the Imperial delegation seeming to agree with her needs. Word of confirmation would have to wait though, and after they had left to return to the Imperial foundry Helena decided the time had come to head to Himmelfeuer and finally sell her vision of the future and her plans to survive, even beat back, the pending invasion. Her aim was to unify the council.

Meanwhile, Pou had found Ritter at his shop the morning after his meeting with him outside the castle. The Templar had found Jonn in the workshop whilst awaiting Pou and had heard the man’s stories of bandits in the southern forests and his “persecution” at the hands of Scharf. Ritter was interested, and the information left him ill-disposed to Scharf (whom he had yet to meet) and his ways of justice. Pou had also seen Herbert, whose own run-ins with the Witch Hunter had left him badly spooked, and wishing the outsider out of town as soon as possible.

Ritter ran into Scharf a couple of days later, after the Captain returned from his trip north. Scharf knew the Templar would be looking for him, and called into the guest room as he arrived at the castle. Ritter wasn’t there but his bullish manservant was; Scharf left a message that Ritter could come and find him any time now that he was back in town. Consequently Ritter banged on Scharf’s door later that evening, some 30 minutes after the Captain had retired. There followed a long conversation which Scharf saw as “easier than expected” where Ritter pressed Scharf on his handling of the bandits and then on matters more pertinent to his mission here: Josephine’s whereabouts; Scharf knew nothing and Ritter departed with little more than a few more derisory jibes.

Over the next few days Ritter found out about the impending trial of Pou’s son, Gunter. Visiting Scharf once more the Templar commanded he be given judiciary power in the trial. Much to the consternation of Scharf, and indeed Pou, there was little to prevent the Templar taking this, putting Gunter at great risk; Scharf acquiesced with reservations, not wanting to involve the Baron by disagreeing and losing his ground anyway. Gunter’s trial was not yet imminent, and this development did nothing but rack up tensions and distract from the dual pressures of the coming war and Josephine’s (potential) trial by fire.

Helena arrived in Himmelfeuer shortly after Scharf informed Pou of the Gunter development; she caught up with him outside Pou’s workshop. She was dropping by to inform Pou of the Emergency council meeting she had called for early that evening, but was happy to see Rudi (Scharf) – with whom she had further, more personal, plans to make. Before they had left however, Herbert came bustling up with surprising news: Werner had disappeared. This hastened Helena’s heading for the castle as she had hoped to find everyone before the meeting that evening. She left, but not before arranging to meet Scharf an hour before the meeting was due. Scharf departed too, to check on the Tileans and other aspects of his day job. Herbert watched them go, and then went inside to find Pou. There he spoke firmly; they both knew something was up, and Pou was convinced it was time for action. By the time Herbert left, they both had their own plans to make in the few short bells before the meeting.

Reaching the castle, Helena sought to locate any sign of Werner. Finding it lacking, and his rooms looking too clean, she found Gottfrid instead. The butler was shocked by Werner’s disappearance, the closest thing to a friend he had ever had, and under questioning from Lady FitzCarstein he let his guard down for the first time in years. Werner, Gottfrid revealed, was the illegitimate son produced by an affair between the Baron’s first wife, and his brother Gerhardt. With Josephine’s judgement time getting closer, Gottfrid suggested Werner had guessed that the Baron – who had treated the treasurer almost as a son – may have declared him heir, a situation he feared, and dealt with by fleeing to Tilea. Werner’s absence now considered long-term, Helena left the butler to regain his composure, then set out to meet others she needed to see before the meeting…

Deliberately vague on some things here despite the shorter format because it was building to a head (the next session is/was the last), with the coming council meeting central to resolution of character issues. It makes it seem like NPCs were more central to this session than the PCs to a degree, but this was definitely not the case; instead it was very much a set-up, not entirely colluded but very much worked out and left primed to blow before the finale (which again will, sadly, in all likelihood be underwhelmingly recounted).

I’m pretty sure I’ve missed or glossed over some highlights this time, too, but the session was three weeks ago now and my notes very sparse. Once I got more than a week behind it was always going to be a tall order to catch up and with the game essentially lasting twice as long as I’d expected when I pitched it, I’m disappointed, but not surprised, that my recounting has tailed off.

Congratulations!

2007-08-21T18:26:00.001+01:00

I just want to quickly put up a congrats to Garry and Rosa on their wedding. My reflections on the weekend away, the plethora of people and the event can wait, but whilst I was too busy drinking to take many pictures (let alone good ones) I thought I'd throw up these few (none of that posed stuff, either - I was always too late for that):

The happy couple with the Bride's parents and brother, and the bridesmaid.

This one captures the joy of it for me; Rosa's smile was reflected in all the guests.

And here... embarrassment(?) as Garry starts the "skanking"

Splitting Heirs: Session Sixteen

2007-08-15T13:09:00.000+01:00

More bullet-points as I'm in a rush to get this done before the workload builds up enough to stop me progressing with it at all...

---

1) Helena was at pains to make the Templars feel welcome, offering them food and lodgings for the night, but excusing herself in the immediacy to avoid answering their questions. She did, however, make herself available after they had dined, and was asked probing questions about Baron, daughter and councillor alike. The night was uneventful, however when the Witch Hunters rose and attended breakfast, only two of the three were present; the third had slipped out of the castle during the night and vanished.

2) Shortly thereafter Jarla arrived back - not having seen the Templar on the road - with her gaggle of young women with "talent" for things like herbalism, midwifery or other less natural aptitudes, and a couple of male relatives as guards. Lady FitzCarstein was forced to explain their presence as Pilgrims and the need for the mundane talents in the castle as she prepared for a siege (cuing short talk of impending war and threat from the south).

3) The "lead" Templar made his excuses and left for Himmelfeuer with his servants, eschewing offers of guide or provisions and leaving the last of his number to canvas the north and west of the Barony for their mark - Josephine. This last, Brunner, did agree to look over Father Cantati's dossier on Vampiric movements in the Badlands, however, but remained far from convinced.

4) Meanwhile, on returning to Himmelfeuer, "Scharf" invited Pou, Herbert and Mannfred to a war council of sorts, at which he explained Gretel's turning and treachery. His explicit inclusion of Mannfred in the discussion led to some clarification on whose side Herbert's manservant actually was on, and Mannfred tipped his hand a little. He and Aachen were brothers, they had contacts all over the place and information streams to both north (the Empire) and south; he did not go as far as revealing for whom, if anyone, else he was working but assured everyone he was not an agent for Morder. Scharf told the gathering that Rolf was lost, presumed dead, and that other men would need to be sent southward to watch. Mannfred volunteered himself for the role, claiming he and Aachen would be more than capable. He also intimated that Duke Morder was probably waiting for some sort of trigger event before invading - his troops had been massing ready for a week or so without action. Mannfred's plan was to fire the southern forests as a signal as and when the enemy began to move with the dual effects of flushing out the bandits and skirmishers in the woods and filling the sky with smoke as a warning signal. Scharf and the others agreed, allowing them to keep their focus closer to home, and without risking more men.

5) After the meeting, Scharf took care of some mundane tasks and set off for Drachenmalstein to inform Helena of developments (amongst other things), spotting and avoiding Herr Ritter on his way out of town. Pou was not so fortunate and was just leaving the castle after overseeing afternoon training of the Kupfers when Ritter stopped him. The Templar was initially sceptical of Pou, seeing as the gunsmith never travelled anywhere without an overabundance of firearms, but it was in the resulting discussion of the weapons when Ritter drew his own pistol that Pou recognised the gun as one he had made. This warmed the atmosphere of the meeting a little until Ritter ran through a similar list of questions to those he had asked Lady FitzCarstein the night before - all aimed at finding out how the Barony ticked and if anyone knew where Josephine was to be found. Pou became a little evasive, and Ritter soon got bored, ordering Pou to meet him at his workshop at dawn the next day before summarily dismissing him and disappearing into the castle.

---

Actually I don't think I missed too much here, lack of detail aside. It seems like not a lot happened from the above but it didn't feel slow or light to me at the time. Admittedly this was probably because the scenes with the Witch Hunters took a fair while, digging at possible splits and niggles and generally being a pain in the backside.

Splitting Heirs: Session Fifteen

2007-08-12T21:30:00.000+01:00

I am now lagging a long way behind, unfortunately, given a lack of sleep causing a deficit of mental freshness and motivation to write. This sadly means that a couple of sessions will have to be summarised with bullet points.

Scharf invited Pou out of town the morning after the wedding. Thinking it was a social affair, Pou brought his wife; Scharf had meant it as both sword practice (trying to break Pou’s reliance on his guns, which would quickly become useless in any pitched battle) and a clear-the-air talk. Despite their audience, both happened to some degree. Scharf confirmed his identity and revealed his past – including his associations and history with the southern bandits. This angered Pou, especially after what had happened to Jonn at the hands of said bandits, and the meeting was quickly over before the gunsmith did something rash.

Lady FitzCarstein had chosen to pay Herbert a visit before heading back to Drachenmalstein. She outlined some rather ambitious plans for the future, saying she would support Pou as successor to the Baron, providing he swore fealty to her when she (hopefully) rode onwards, reversing any siege and deposing Duke Mörder, installing herself as Duchess. She revealed some of her knowledge of the situation, but was not able to convince the mayor that she actually had the resources or the ability to carry it off. Plus his natural distrust for her coloured Herbert’s interpretation of everything Lady F said.

Pou returned to his workshop, where he spoke with Jonn about Scharf, his history, the bandits and everything. Jonn implored his employer that it was obvious that the other members of the council were seeking to isolate him, playing the politics game that Pou despised so much.

Scharf met with Lady F, who outlined her plans to him. In the wake of Pou’s distrust it was important for them to “stick together” – all sorts of romantic (and less so) insinuations went with this phrase.

Pou and Herbert spoke, the latter informing the former about Lady F’s mad schemes, to much disbelief, and Pou airing his distrust of Rudi (Scharf); Herbert assured Pou that his son (Rudi) was trustworthy despite his history.

Lady FitzCarstein returned to Drachenmalstein, spoke a little with Jurgen about the imminently-due Witch Hunters and how to handle them, and then had them turn up. 3 of them, Herrs Ritter, Jaeger and Brunner. Jarla was not due back with her gaggle of hedge-witches until the morning…

Scharf headed south looking for signs of Rolf, the sergeant he had sent down to scout. He found no trace of them, and was warned off heading into the forests by a man called Aachen, whom he had met before in Brunnenhing’s lands – Gretel had turned to Mörder, he said, and the Duke’s skirmishers were in the forests, and Rolf had either joined Gretel or died. On his way back north, Scharf saw a straw dummy hanging from a tree; it was wearing a Sergeant’s uniform, and pierced with an arrow. He heard laughter as he urged his horse on and away.

So the Templars arrived; a big moment that, as they are now relatively central to the events that will conclude the run. I am afraid I cannot actually recall many of the details of this session beyond the skeletal notes directly analogous with the abovementioned bullet points that I took in the immediate aftermath.

Oh, and...

2007-08-07T23:59:00.000+01:00

I aged yesterday. Woop-de-do.

In the spirit of being positive...

2007-08-07T17:34:00.000+01:00

As I, and others, have repeatedly stated in various forums of communication, I have a problem with being very down on myself. All the time. About everything. Sometimes with justification, other times not so much.

So in the spirit of trying to reverse polarity and lift the world off my shoulders for a second or two, what am I good at? What could, or even should, I celebrate about myself?

Truth is, as I'm sure you can imagine, I can't think of too much.

1. I'm smart. Yes, I'm a clever bloke, me. Three degrees and a head full of random crap useful in quizzes to prove it. There are all kinds of qualifiers to this statement, but they all run contrary to the spirit of this post so stay hidden for now.

2. My taste in music. A very minor thing, to be sure, but something I do take comfort in. I also (and I feel a little guilty about this, because it is baseless and wrong) assume it is objectively better than many other peoples for not being the Sheep to the music industry's Border Collie.

3. Stretching now, but I'll throw in GMing. I reckon I've earned the right to call myself at least a decent GM, if not a great one. This won't mean anything to non-gamers, and very little to some who do game, but while I know I have certain weaknesses when GMing, and my style is not universally suitable, I do feel that so long as I'm engaged in a project (and by extension the players are engaged, too) I am able to encourage fun and enjoyment at the table, providing there isn't a major schism in expectation or communication.

4. ... I've got nothing. I honestly cannot think of anything else off the top of my head genuinely worthy of adding to this very short list. I will keep thinking on it though; there must be more. Right?

Shadowrun is claiming my soul

2007-08-05T10:16:00.000+01:00

No, not the RPG, which is far too fiddly and crunchy for my tastes (though the cyberpunk-y distopia vibe is something I quite enjoy, even with the fantasy twist). I mean the FPS Xbox 360/Windows Vista title that is based on the same IP, but at the same time is utterly unlike its predecessor games, or the RPG.

It is just too damn fun and, crucially, rewards support play, so while it does not utilise cover mechanics in the way of Gears of War or Rainbow Six:Vegas to cut down on the twitch nature of shooters, being up front and in everybody's faces is not the only way to be successful. Also, the Live community playing Shadowrun is generally good; I guess the option to vote-kick disruptive players really helps here, but it may be more a function of the way the game plays, emphasizing teamwork over individualism.

There are lots of drawbacks - a limited range of maps and only 8 character models (4 for each side, when there are 4 races to pick from) chief amongst these - but a multitude of strengths to cancel them out. The game is balanced to perfection - from the innate powers of the races to the capabilities of the weapons and the range of magic options everything has its worth, and its counter. More, limited though the maps are, they are also generally well thought through, making good (if not always great) use of height differences (hang-gliders, yay!), and wall/floor layouts that maximise the utility of the Teleport spell.

Perhaps more pertinent though given the small number of maps and only three game modes, what makes the game re-playable is the sheer number of options for combining magic, technology and race, thus allowing several distinct builds which all play differently, even on the same maps with the same goals, or against the same people.

I'm not very good, and never will be, at twitch-style games, but I love to feel I'm contributing to a team effort. Shadowrun allows, even rewards me for, the latter so it continues to be fun even if I am falling fast in most even firefights. As a result I've been playing rather a lot of late; possibly too much. Each match is different, each kill unique, each death differently frustrating... and it all keeps me going back for more even when I should be doing other things!

Splitting Heirs: Session Fourteen (part ii)

2007-07-29T17:34:00.000+01:00

And so to the stag night, the wedding itself, and the immediate aftermath.

Pou, Herbert, and most of Himmelfeuer were getting into the celebratory swing by the time Captain Scharf made his appearance. Everyone was deep in their cups, with the Tileans forming a separate group in the corner, making many jokes at Pou’s expense, while the man himself was in deep conversation with Herbert, with Mannfred in attendance.

Scharf – who had shaved in the morning before leaving Drachenmalstein, ridding himself of a beard he’d had for the entirety of his service in the aftermath of a powder-burn from rifle practice – made his way over to join them, and drinks were shared. Scharf made sure to drink less than it appeared, and noticed Mannfred was doing the same. Pou, meanwhile, was busily getting more and more drunk. After some jovial japes and conversation, Pou felt the need to go outside and mingle with the wider attendance – many of the off-duty local Kupfers, and the other townspeople (figuring if you can’t beat them, join them, given the noise and the late hour) had gathered in the streets around the inn. Scharf merely shrugged and used it as an excuse to bid goodnight. The shrug gave Pou a strange sense of recognition, but in his addled state he couldn’t put a name to it.

The festivities continued throughout the night, at least for Pou who stumbled in through his door sometime around sunrise. Not long thereafter, Scharf knocked on his door with the intention of getting his friend and colleague ready for the ceremony. Deflecting Pou’s clumsy, still-drunken, attempts to bring up the similarities he saw the previous evening, Scharf prepared Pou hot drinks and food to straighten him up – the nuptials were to take place in a matter of hours, and it would not do to have the groom miss the event!

As part of his final preparations before dressing, a bleary-eyed Pou took himself off to a water pump, and with the fancy-dressed Tilean mercenary leader watching, joking and mocking him, Pou doused himself thoroughly before returning to his residence. There, Scharf presented him with a wedding gift (the original Scharf’s own well-cared for rifle), and agreed to try to have Gunter released under supervision for long enough to attend the celebration.

Lady FitzCarstein made her way into town to present her gifts to the bride-to-be, arriving later than most to the ceremony – overseen by the Baron himself (who had not been told that the bride-to-be’s business was prostitution) as an honour to his Councillor and military Lieutenant, Pou. The ceremony itself went without a hitch – save the central one planned! – and Pou and the newly named Helga de Burns, resplendently dressed, were beaming with delight and barely noticing Gunter was there in chains, looking miserable, with Tileans at his shoulders.

With the ceremony complete the couple circulated, spending a short while with the invited guests whilst the general population were tucking in to the bountiful food provided. It was then, seeing Scharf with Herbert, that Pou realised whom the Captain reminded him of – Scharf was every inch a younger picture of the Mayor. Pou was not able to take this any further in the throng, however, and soon found himself talking to Lady FitzCarstein. The Lady congratulated Pou on the wedding and the event, commenting on the opulence and grandiose provision. Pou innocently responded that “you should only marry once” and that you need to make the most of it – which left Helena seething inside, seeing a condemnation or damnation where none was meant.

As Pou and his new bride moved off around the assembled, Captain Scharf spied Cornelia, Herbert’s daughter and the one responsible for a lot of the organisation, towards the back of the gathering, about to slip off. He caught her just before she did, and then made pains to introduce her to Lady FitzCarstein, before he was, himself, called away (possibly to speak with Pou?). Cornelia and the Lady got on, but each was wary of why Scharf (or Rudi, as Cornelia slipped and called him) was so keen to introduce them to the other. Cornelia was also itching to go somewhere, and while she had the tact to not ditch of her own accord, when Scharf rejoined them, Lady FitzCarstein made excuses to end the conversation, aiding Cornelia in slipping away.

Later that evening, Scharf and Lady FitzCarstein had cause to talk as they walked back to their rooms in the castle. Scharf revealed why he had wanted to introduce Cornelia, his sister; he thought they would get on and hoped she would be a member of his family that Helena could like – a pointed reference to the lack of amicable relationship between the Lady and Herbert. They spoke then about family, relationships and expectations. Lady FitzCarstein revealed how Pou’s well-meant words had stung her – particularly in relation to how her marriage had worked out – and left the unspoken implication of their relationship hanging as they arrived at her door.

Where Scharf said goodnight, and set off for his own rooms.

So the wedding ended up not being nearly as central as I’d thought, but I find large-scale events with lots of people are always hard to run well. Nevertheless, the format of the session worked – the celebrations sandwiched by the contrasting forbidden, unrequited and largely unspoken desire between the other two PCs. Pou’s comments to Lady F after the wedding ceremony and the alternate way she interpreted them is perhaps the best example of how the two situations contrasted, fed off each other, and created a session that was greater than the sum of its parts. This is what I meant by every line being perfect – you couldn’t script the innocent intent and the perceived malice, how one line summed up the contrasts and conflicts of the three protagonists during the session.

The dawning of who Scharf really is on both Pou and Lady F was a fine twist, though well foreshadowed, and it has (since, I am a session behind) had consequences, too – particularly the “poacher turned gamekeeper” angle of bandit becoming military and lawman.

In many ways I wanted to end the game after this session. Each character has gone through a full story arc by the end of it, character drama was both played out and set up nicely for a next stage, and all in all the session just clicked so perfectly – for me, at least – that no planned “plot-based” ending will come close. The game has, thus, climaxed – and in a session that was supposed to be almost a throw-away preparation for a frenzied ending (it won’t work out like that, but hey…).

Splitting Heirs: Session Fourteen (part i)

2007-07-29T13:23:00.000+01:00

This session was the best to date by some margin, and I fear that this summary will not even begin to do it justice. However, in an attempt to, I shall split the summary in two.

What was planned as a relaxed low-intensity session covering events surrounding the wedding became a tense, dramatic and highly charged affair that left me gushing about how awesome it had been to sit back and admire as the players ran away with it.

I had explicitly stated that I would bring nothing untoward into the wedding event that wasn’t already in play (like Gunter being in captivity, or Scharf wanting to find and question Jonn). I also said up front there would be no word from the various “outsourced” projects (things like Jarla searching for women with “talent”, Rolf’s trip southwards, or the Kupfers looking out for Josephine), so as to keep the focus squarely on the wedding itself.

Before we got to the big day, however, Captain Scharf had made his way to Drachenmalstein.

Captain Scharf had travelled north both to relay information to Lady FitzCarstein and, more pertinently, remind her of, and convince her to attend, Pou’s imminent wedding. It was two days before the nuptials when he headed up, leaving the evening to convince her Ladyship to accompany him back, and a day’s return travel to Himmelfeuer before the celebratory eve for man and wife alike, and then the ceremonies themselves.

In the event, the pair talked long into the evening. It started banally enough – chit chat and small talk, updating each other on the week’s activities, findings and events. Scharf spoke of news of attacks on the Kupfers to the south, whilst Lady FitzCarstein spoke of her deal with von Schicksal, her precipitous actions in tempting Duke Mörder and not having found the assassin responsible for poisoning the monks of Morr. Scharf wondered at the wisdom of Lady’s willingness to use such a double agent and such kicked off a heated confrontation about how he had dealt more directly with the Duke, and how his indiscretion had forced the Lady’s hand in following suit.

Inevitably, from this position the conversation turned once again to trust, truths, and secrets, and the Captain was motivated to ask a flat question prying into the Lady’s past. He framed it with explicit acceptance that she may not answer, but using analogies to card games, open hands, and playing well with the bad cards one may have been dealt. Inquiring whether her late husband, Hans Bodendreck, had beaten her, he was not surprised when she answered that this had been the case. The follow-up question was whether she had killed him, again framed as if not expecting an answer; it was then further qualified by Scharf taking the card analogy further, and revealing some of his hand.

He assured the Lady that no matter her answer he would not arrest her. The past was the past and it was the present that was both of their concern right now, then laid out that he knew what it was like to have killed someone, outside of war, and to have had no choice. He revealed how he had come to be Captain Reinhardt Scharf, when he had not been born with that name. He had previously admitted to her that he had been known by other names in the past, but not which names, nor how he had come to assume his current one. Here, too, he kept his former name under wraps, but told a tale of how he had been the one who had killed the abusive chandler all those years ago. He stressed that he had not, himself, been abused, but when the abuser had come for him, he had fought back, beating him to death with a set of metal tongs before convincing his fellow apprentices – the other abused souls – to help him push the man down the stairs and generate the story that he had fallen to his death. Scharf told too of how he had then fled the town and, when the caravan he was fleeing with was ambushed by bandits, he had begged for his life in such a pitifully amusing way that the brigands took him in.

He had lived the Bandit’s life for several years, rising through their ranks and earning a following. The bandits, who had preyed on everyone and anyone, also altered their practices, beginning not to, in his words “shit where they eat” – targeting their attacks southward into the troubled lands of the newly lorded and unpopular Duke Mörder, and how he himself had ended up with a sizable price on his head in Mördstat, the seat of the Duke’s power. Then, somewhere over a year ago, chance had dealt him a card to make his way home, and evade the growing scrutiny from those seeking the reward: a Captain Scharf had passed through Mördstat, where he had expired from a burst liver, caused by a lifetime of drinking too much. The inn where he passed was a commonly frequented one for the false Scharf and his comrades, and after rummaging through his things, they found papers suggesting he was to be the new military mind for the von Feuerwaffen Barony. The chance was too good to turn down, so Scharf had presented himself as expected, just somewhat younger and less accustomed to rifle tactics than his record would have suggested.

Scharf had been living his current life ever since, with none questioning his position; a few of the new faces in the ranks had followed Scharf from bandit to lawman, continuing to raid into Mörder’s lands as they did so.

With his cards on the table, Scharf waited for the Lady’s response. Yes, she had killed her husband and covered it up as an accident whilst “off adventuring” (after all, that was how they had come to be wed, when Hans had been working as a mercenary, aiding the Lady’s father in the fight against the undead back in Stirland. Helena’s hand had been promised as part of the payment). She was still wearing mainly black – even 5 years on – as a part of the official mourning period, a status that precluded suitors or re-marriage. The conversation turned then, back to the wedding, gifts, and attendance. The Lady would accompany the Captain back to Himmelfeuer to attend, and in doing so end her official mourning in order to wear something appropriate; they would leave in the morning.

There was still time for them to discuss Josephine, and how no-one knew where she was; even now the Witch Hunters’ arrival was near. Lady FitzCarstein surprised the Captain by intimating that Josephine may well actually be, for want of a better term, a witch – possessing some innate “talent” that may help her obfuscate herself – but that there was little they could do for her in the meantime. Besides, the coming of the Templars posed its own problems for each of them in any case.

The next morning they set off, arriving back in Himmelfeuer in time for the Captain to attend the celebrations at Herbert’s inn that evening in Pou’s honour, whilst Lady FitzCarstein took her residence in the castle.

The first half of the session was thus entirely given over to non-wedding affairs. The chemistry between Scharf and Lady F has been building for the entirety of the campaign and there is both a “will they/won’t they” romance angle and the examination of how trust works between them to keep it burning.

As such I found their scene compelling in every possible way, and writing it up from the skeleton notes I could take at the time (writing more would have meant missing what was said, and how) almost certainly loses the tension and drama that was pregnant in the air throughout. How much would they reveal, and how would each react to the other’s brave admissions?

The two secrets revealed (Scharf’s past, and Lady F’s killing of her abusive husband) were largely open out-of-character, and had been hinted at in character. However the way the reveal was handled by both sides was amazing; this session, just about every line uttered was perfect (more on that later). I’ve often felt that I enjoy GMing most when I have next-to-nothing to do – it means that I can sit back and enjoy watching as the fruits of everyone’s play are borne and then flourish, without fretting over what I am doing next. Almost everything in this session came from the players as the events I had introduced took a back seat to character concepts, secrets and motivations that had been present from the start.

(And if they are reading, I’d love to see written thoughts from them on the scene – particularly anything they think I have missed, distorted or glossed over too much).

I Am Quite Secure In My Ugliness

2007-07-27T20:41:00.000+01:00

Or, otherwise put, there are a million and one reasons why any given person might be lonely; physical appearance does not make the (my?) top 10.

Of course, I also lack any recent photos of myself to display "proudly" under said statement (the one on my profile is at least 15 months old); I am not unhappy about this.

Could you make a character for every game you own?

2007-07-27T18:33:00.000+01:00

It started on RPGnet, and now Garry is doing it too. The idea? To make a character for every RPG one owns.

Me? I'm dubious. This is not because I feel it is a waste of time, or that I fear it wouldn't be fun. No, I doubt I could do it because of the time I would inevitably want to sink into it. I have more games than I have read (though not an awful lot compared with many gamers), and an annoying tendency to write too much when I set out to do these things - I'd feel honour bound to have complete premise (my fundamental starting point for any character I'm actually going to play) rather than just the numbers.

An easier option might be to roll out previously used characters, but as I haven't read all of every game I own, it follows, too, that I have not actually played more. Or it has been so long since I did that the effect is the same.

Given I am falling ever behind with the actual play/summaries for my WFRP game, taking on another large project - 20 plus games, some more detailed than others, some I know better than others - is folly. Perhaps after the current game concludes it might be an option, but to be honest I should be doing other things with my time. I cannot deny that there is part of me that wants to, especially as writing up a selection of good, strong, premises might be useful as pre-gen concepts for future games. It is also fun; I enjoy the creative process - thought and writing it up, both - though much of it is muted when it is not done with an imminent game in mind and when not bouncing ideas off the GM (and potentially other players).

So I'm sitting on the fence for now; I do that quite a bit of late.

Insomnia

2007-07-22T11:14:00.001+01:00

No, I'm not about to complain of not sleeping (though co-incidentally I haven't been, of late).

Instead I refer to the films bearing this title. I was just about to head to bed last night having finished working my way through the story mode of Rainbow Six: Vegas when, as I switched off the 360, the beginning of the Christopher Nolan (director of Memento) remake was showing on the Beeb. I ended up getting drawn in, sitting through and thoroughly enjoying it, and then getting far less sleep than I would have otherwise.

I had been avoiding seeing this version for years, though I suspect that had I seen Memento earlier and twigged it had the same director I would have possibly not taken this approach. I ended up being pleasantly surprised by the way it had been handled, reminded of how stunning I had found the original (Norwegian) version starring Stellan Skarsgard.

That film had shown on Channel 4 at some ungodly hour (it started at 2.30 on a Tuesday morning, as I recall) that fit with the title, but I had caught wind of it and found the short blurb intriguing, so I set the video for it - not wanting to mess up my circadian rhythms unduly. What I ended up watching the next day transfixed me. The characters were strong, nuanced individuals. The plot was byzantine and unauthodox. The setting bleak and perfectly suited to the dark tale unfolding. The portrayals I remember as being spot on and convincing. It all added up to a compelling film, and one that left a distinct impression.

So when I heard it was being re-made by Hollywood I was very dubious. Doubtless, I thought, it would remove all the nuances, the strengths and the artistic depth that had been present in the film I had loved - all for ensuring commercial success.

Six years on, I now know I was wrong. The casting worked, the direction worked, the script re-working worked and, despite being pre-disposed to disliking it, I was again captivated by this twisted story of drive, intent, guilt and what it can do to a man. Every moment I was watching it, I was left thinking how well written it is, how stunningly conceived. It plays to my views of psychological horror - particularly the pivotal early scene where the twist burgeons into life and sat nicely with my psyche at present (as hinted at by my recent RPG purchases, I have a hankering for well-done "horror" right now).

Perhaps the best thing I can say, though, is that seeing this finally motivated me to do what I have meant to for a long time, and acquire the original on DVD, totally re-affirming my enjoyment for a masterwork of scripting and plotting.

Splitting Heirs: Session Thirteen

2007-07-22T11:07:00.000+01:00

Scharf led his small troop and the Tilean mercenary company back to Himmelfeuer, the addition of the latter causing consternation in Pou after Jonn had spotted the column returning through the shop window as they were chatting. Pou, having been shot by the Tileans on his previous trip down south, was understandably paranoid about their appearance in town despite the fact they were outnumbered by Scharf’s men, and that they were marching with the Captain’s men.

He was less than pleased to hear they had been recruited, and even less so to find out Gunter was a prisoner, but Scharf explained the necessities of the situation, and pointed out that only his captive status had spared Gunter his life. There would be a trial – for knowingly selling dangerously faulty goods – at some point, but no-one had it as a high enough priority to push the workings through, and Pou could use the time to try and find some sort of representative for his wayward son (not that there were any Lawyers out here – nor real code of laws). Aside from issues surrounding Gunter, Scharf had to sort out pay (with Werner, who was shocked on hearing which mercenaries had been recruited, but agreed to release the funds) and accommodation for the mercenaries. With the castle newly given over to a sizeable number of the Kupfers who made up the militia, the only place for them to stay was Herbert’s inn.

This caused some consternation, as the rowdy Tileans used their residence at the inn to tease Pou at every possible opportunity. Chastised by the clientele, Pou also managed to anger both Herbert and, surprisingly, Captain Scharf by making light of a suggestion that Herbert’s daughter Cornelia – recently back in town after completing accountancy studies in the Empire – might be a good match for his foreman, Jonn. Scharf, it turned out, was indeed still looking for Jonn, whilst Herbert was probably just being overprotective of his only daughter…

Meanwhile, up in Drachenmalstein, Jarla had set out in search of young women with an aptitude for herbalism or “magics” and to offer them the sanctity of the castle under the guise of a Verenan convent – thus hopefully protecting them from the incoming Witch Hunters. The Lady FitzCarstein however set about implementing plans for the castle’s defence, but not before she found time for a long chat with her brother, Jurgen, about the situation; she spoke of how, despite his anger at being shown up, she needed him and his aid, and whether he thought their father would respond to her plea for troops. Top priority however was what to do with von Schicksal. Jurgen was unhappy that Helena believed the captive’s sharp turnabout in attitude, but counselled her that if she did go ahead and turn him loose as a double agent against Mörder then his “escape” would need to seem plausible. He was to disappear the way he had come in – through the Underworks and caverns – but not to bee harmed past the point of functionality despite his crime of trespass.

Once the noble’s fate had been decreed, conversation turned to setting up a “tribunal of Truth” which played upon the staff’s superstitions of their Lady in order to see if the assassin responsible for the poisoning of the monks could be revealed. Jurgen grudgingly agreed to be present as his sister’s guardian should the killer be tempted by the presence of a naked blade and the Lady’s unarmed, un-armoured, presence. In the end the tribunal turned up nothing beyond some minor information that would at best be useful for disciplining unruly staff; the assassin was either too cool to take the bait, or more likely had fled the castle after the deed was done – there was certainly a way out, after all.

Helena also found time to visit Father Cantati in his cell, whereupon she was given the full final treatise he had prepared from the stacks of rumours contained in the tomes brought down from Stirland when Jurgen arrived. The histories showed that sporadically over the centuries nondescript and varied groups had gone from nowhere to significant power, each in a similar manner (acquiring and maintaining great influence over others) before somehow imploding. This pattern fit the emergence of Duke Mörder and his “mini-Empire,” and the Father asserted that the architect of each of these unlikely rises was almost certainly a von Carstein vampire. It had long been thought that one of the clan had fled to the Badlands to avoid destruction, and the machinations of Mörder, and the histories, combined with what seemed to be an unhealthy interest in Lady FitzCarstein (his emissary had been poking around a lot before he was recalled) to lead to a strong conclusion that this von Carstein was active again.

Helena thusly saw to accelerate her defences, and in addition to the deal she had made with Pou (the goods, men, and the Baron’s brother Gerhardt – whom was to be a guest at Drachenmalstein – had all arrived in caravan that day), she sent off a purchase request to the imperial foundry at Nuln, pleading for a cannon. (Pou had also placed an order, independently of Lady FitzCarstein, with the intent of possibly studying and copying the design).

A few incident-free days passed with preparations ongoing in Drachenmalstein and, indeed, in Himmelfeuer where Cornelia and Herbert were busily putting together the finer points for Pou’s wedding, whilst the mercenaries were earning their keep during the days by training the militia, and spending it at night by getting drunk and mocking Pou. A council meeting was called – in Lady F’s absence – when Georg Bodendreck arrived back in town with word that there had been more attacks down south. It appeared that bandits had been selectively targeting the Kupfers still based in the southlands.

This situation was discussed and it was decided it would be wise to call the militiamen in – no force before Himmelfeuer could even hope to stand up should Mörder attack and the men would be more useful up here out of harm’s way. Scharf would, however, send a couple of men, including his Sergeant, Rolf, down to keep an ear to the ground, and to train in raven-handling so as to be able to send advance warning if they spotted the enemy. They, being outlaws who joined since Scharf’s appointment, would also have (secret) instruction to seek out Gretel the Rabbit and find out her side. Pou had also made secret arrangements, sending instruction for one or two of the Kupfers to ignore the call-back and stay, being his eyes and ears.

The only other business of note was when Werner informed the assembled councillors that the Templars would be due in 7 days time.

It was now also just two days before Pou’s wedding, and Captain Scharf, having dispatched Rolf southwards, readied himself for a trip. He would head north to Drachenmalstein, where to inform Lady FitzCarstein of developments and, more importantly, remind her of – and convince her to attend – the imminent wedding.

This was the first session that really suffered from drag from my point of view. Set-up was such that I was able to prep even less than usual and the action would need to come from the PCs. It came about because the constant stream of new and immediate things to investigate finally dried up - I’m (early) in the process of drawing the strings now, to provide a wrap.

Left with space and to their own devices for the first time, the characters fell back on the plethora of “everyday tasks” that they had been ignoring. These were important - training the militia, preparing for a siege defence etc - but of minimal interest in Actual Play, much better that they be assumed and happen in the background. As a result, game-time accelerated and just under a week passed in the session - bringing forward the big events lined up (and the last of the big introductions). The next session is given over largely to Pou’s wedding, thus giving quantified space and a low-pressure session to allow people to relax in- and out- of character, and provide a laid back and joyous counterpoint to the hell that will break loose thereafter when the Templars ride into the Barony.

Summertime...

2007-07-20T17:51:00.001+01:00

Well... not really, eh?

Nothing but wet, dark days, and it is really starting to do my head in!

Just Because...

2007-07-19T20:44:00.002+01:00

This is the coolest emoticon I have ever seen. Found whilst randomly flicking through threads on an Xbox360-related forum, it does a little ironic dance that I have come to associate with mocking appreciation, self-deprecating congratulation (oxymoron though that might seem) and general over-the-top or inappropriate celebration.

Woop!

Increased Mobility

2007-07-18T18:54:00.001+01:00

So I inherited a car about 10 days ago. A small, old, car but with virtually no miles on the clock, a known history and for no initial outlay other than fuel. I have my grandmother to thank for this, as it had got to the point where it was no longer making economic sense for her to run it and she kindly offered to pass it on to me.

It is (initially, at least) a short-term measure; I am far from sure I wish to take on the expense of running a car at this time, especially whilst I am still just temping in terms of work. The road tax, service and MOT are up for renewal in October and so realistically I have until the end of August to make the final decision.

On the one hand, the option is nice. Having the car gives a lot more freedom as evidenced by the fact I haven't had to rely on the bus to get to my last two game sessions, or that it would open up the chance of nipping up to do clothes-type shopping in Bicester Village with ease (and I have such shopping to do thanks to a wedding to attend, my shoes wearing thin, and so forth). With each passing day I am also getting more and more frustrated with taking two busses to get to work over in Cowley, a journey of 40 minutes or more (if the traffic is bad or a bus doesn't show it can take 75) , when if I aimed to get in for 8am I could do each way in 15-20 minutes as I would thusly beat the rush hour traffic.

On the other, I really don't want to get into the habit of driving everyday and everywhere when, the odd niggle aside, public transport, bikes, and my feet have served me fine until now. I have used the car just three times in 10 days, twice to go gaming; the first trip was driving it back to Oxford from Hampshire, where my Grandmother lives.

I should, however, actively look to use it more in this evaluation period, even if I wouldn't use it quite so much later on. It would seem silly not to give myself the chance to really familiarise myself with driving now that I have the means (I've done bits here and there before, but never enough to really get confident, practised or familiar). The trouble is manufacturing the reasons needed to take it for a spin.

Some things I'd really like.

2007-07-16T17:47:00.000+01:00

To have a sense of what I want to do with my life, work wise; I just have no clue. And hell, fun-wise, too, I'm too often feeling at a loose end.
To be able to talk to people. Other people seem to have a knack for "conversation," "introducing themselves," "making friends" or "meeting people"; all of the above would be nice, but I score 1 of 4 at best. Alone is fine, always lonely is not.
To not always feel quite so down on myself. I've had friends tell me this is the most annoying thing about me (apart from being English), and y'know? If you think it is annoying for those around me, have a care for how bad it is for me. Also, I'm pretty sure this one feeds both 1 and 2, thus exacerbating an already bad situation.

Just about everything I could realistically wish for could come from those three little things.

Without any of them? Well... I've been in this rut for years already.

So, how you doin'?

2007-07-14T18:40:00.000+01:00

Sheesh this blog has been utterly dominated by sporadically posted Actual Play of late. It was never my intention to drop all other points of view or diary-like posts and monopolise the space with one thing but funny how things turn out, eh?

Most of it is a time thing: writing takes a lot of it, especially writing something that I am satisfied with. It also takes a working mind, and of late I have been far from awake enough to get around to doing anything. No, this isn't really much of a change, but somehow blogging has been further from my thoughts (or more accurately leaving me feeling less enthused when I have thought about it) in the last couple of months. Even getting the APs up and done has been a step too far on occasion (S12 is 10 days overdue and s13 notes are sitting here ready for transcription).

Also there is the fact I don't really feel like I have anything interesting to say at the moment - I'd have liked to have commented on a couple of books (Reaper's Gale by Steven Erikson, and Londonstani by Gautam Malikani) that I read recently, my final thoughts on completing my watching of Firefly, or possibly even the conclusion of series two of Supernatural but when it comes down to it I was finding myself without anything really compelling to say. And that's for my interest, let alone anyone else's!

Noteworthy life news is thin on the ground, too (as it ever is - much pressing thought, but little interest, fun or pursuit of choice); that said, I have recently inherited a car - at least in the short-term - which might produce some lifestyle changes. Already I've avoided having to bus to Bicester in order to game, which is nice. In other news I'm hoping my 360 doesn't fail like all the others, and in the meantime intend on getting good value out of Rainbow Six: Vegas and Oblivion - both of which I was able to pick up for under £20 each last week. I also indulged in 3 new RPGs, ordering Dread, Roanoke, and Mortal Coil from Indie Press Revolution. Now I just need to wait for them to ship from the States, but all 3 have me buzzing for different reasons (which I might go into if I speak about them individually later).

Gods, I'm boring! What about you?

Splitting Heirs: Session Twelve

2007-07-14T18:33:00.000+01:00

Captain Scharf had marched 30 or so men, and Georg Bodendreck the landowner, down to the southlands of the Barony with a view to determining the nature of, and if possible dealing with, the “siege” that Gunter’s brief note had said was in progress.

Camping overnight and then meeting up with some of the local Kupfers in the morning had been the plan, but when his local aid was slow to arrive Scharf took a couple of his more stealthy men and decided to reconnoitre the manor. He quickly determined that the besieging force was a mercenary company of Tileans – those same who had previously occupied Brunnenhing’s manor – and not a standing army in the service of Mörder as was feared. The house was breached, but seemed that Gunter was both alive and holding out; the attackers, however, seemed more interested in jeering and tormenting their prey than storming the house again and dragging him out.

Retreating back to the camp, to find the Kupfers had arrived, Scharf ordered a quiet march up to the manor, hoping to get as close as possible before being spotted. With albeit un-attentive lookouts placed on roofs of the side-buildings however the advancing force were seen before they got within earshot (or, arguably rifle-shot). Keen to avoid violence at least until numbers and advantages had been determined, Scharf stepped up to parlay.

He determined numbers, and that they were there purely for Gunter who, as he had told Pou earlier in the week, had sold their company a batch of faulty firearms, some of which had backfired and caused injury and death amongst their ranks. Protracted negotiations followed and Scharf began to think their beef was justified; he also reckoned that a professional mercenary outfit might be of use. As such he managed to negotiate their employ, telling them who Gunter was and how Pou might recompense financially and materially for his errors, and promising he would be hauled up by the law. All this in addition to payment from the treasury – which they had taken from Werner before now, though were not doing so at this time.

Details of non-hostilities sorted, Scharf walked in, made himself known to Gunter, and persuaded him to open up – he and some house staff were barricaded in the master bedroom. Once inside, Scharf promptly arrested Gunter, regrouped his men and led them, plus the company of mercenaries, northward back toward Himmelfeuer.

Later that evening as they made camp for the night, one of the Kupfers who had been at the manor with them rode up in haste with news that the dispersing militiamen had been attacked by “bandits in the woods” as they were returning to their homes and villages. Figuring this was a mugging gone wrong by the group Scharf knew to be active in the region, he decided that they would not investigate further at this time, prioritising the trip back to Himmelfeuer and dealing with Gunter.

Meanwhile in Drachenmalstein the morning brought a renewed interrogation of the captive von Schicksal, and with it a surprising enlightenment. He had been talking across the cell block with Father Cantati during the night and heard the strong suspicion that Mörder was, or was working for, a vampire. This spooked the imprisoned noble and brought forth his confession – not for the deaths of the monks, but for his reasons for being in the Barony. He had been promised financial support and influential backing by Duke Mörder in the setting up of his own little principality should he manage to persuade Josephine – the Baron’s Daughter – to wed him. Such a union would have handed Mörder the von Feuerwaffen territory on a plate, an outcome that mattered not to von Schicksal until he had cause to doubt his backer’s nature. A pious man, von Schicksal was horrified at the thought of having aided a vampire and pledged to help all he could – once recovered from the beating Jurgen had given him – if Lady FitzCarstein would allow it. Whilst in the cellblock, the Lady spoke briefly to Cantati, too – his final report on the movements of vampires in the Badlands was nearing completion and he wanted to assure her of its readiness.

Away from the dungeons, Helena had written to Pou de Burns in order to arrange a purchase of gunpowder and other munitions for use in the defence of Bardslaughter and Drachenmalstein; the shipment would come north in a caravan also carrying Gerhardt von Feuerwaffen – the Baron’s somewhat addled brother (whom the Lady was planning to pass off as the Baron to all she could). She also had time to have a private chat with her handmaiden, Jarla, about the Baron’s decision to call in the Templars and what it might mean for Josephine – whom they believed to have latent “talent” – and those like her who might similarly be blessed; those like Jarla, and Roderick’s sister Anne, an unusually young and gifted midwife who had joined her brother in the Lady’s household. The Lady decided it would benefit these souls – and the image of herself and her castle – if they were at least to appear as a convent of Verena before the eyes of the arriving Witch Hunters and so she set Jarla on the task of spreading the word, searching out such individuals and bringing them under their wing.

Pou, meanwhile, remained resident in Himmelfeuer, hand-picking the Kupfers for the Baron’s castle guard and overseeing their training as an official militia. He also liaised with Herbert and Cornelia over the wedding plans, whilst trying on the sly to intimate that Jonn and Cornelia would make a nice couple.

OK, it seems from my memory and notes that Pou did not do a lot this time out; probably true, but I’m sure he was more involved than that short paragraph intimates. Nevertheless the outcome of Scharf’s excursion set things up for a possible tense encounter between him and Pou, and more-so for Jonn’s re-appearance.

The game hit a slow point in the last few sessions – a bit like the calm before the storm. I decided between this session and the next that resolutions and an end point would come fairly soon, with the goal to have the game end (at least for this run) as war with the south kicked off. There are obviously still a fair number of things to be resolved and to work their way out before that can happen, but I am confident that most of these can be woven into a fitting conclusion, whilst leaving enough of interest open so that if we as a group were to decide to revisit it in future, we could do so with ease.

Splitting Heirs: Session Eleven

2007-06-27T00:06:00.000+01:00

Still no siege, as this session ended up being very light on screen-time for Scharf and his expedition southward. Instead focus was on events in Himmelfeuer and (to end with) Drachenmalstein.

We began with the private audiences that the baron had offered. Only Pou and Lady FitzCarstein took up the offer [of the PCs], as Scharf left to see to organising his men – 30 or so – who would rendezvous with local Kupfers once they reached the southlands.

Pou was first to see the Baron, and they talked about the common man, faith and the plans for Die Kupfers. Pou mentioned official militia status, and how the men were all volunteers, the Baron countered with talk of chains of command, formalised structure and the need to stand down for their future if a given fight was un-winnable. Pou had concerns about how his men would react to being placed under the direct command of Scharf and his small cadre of career soldiery, and as a result – stressing the need for order, men of faith, and standards/reliability, Pou quickly found himself officially named Lieutenant, officer in charge of the Militia. He was a little taken aback by this – formalised rank being the last thing Pou craved – but was at least happy that the Baron agreed with his plans to man the castle from the ranks of the newly official militia. He was to choose his men, prepare them, and present them to the Baron in a week, when they would take occupancy of the castle.

Lady FitzCarstein’s meeting followed Pou’s directly; she caught wind of his title from Gottfrid as she was presented to the Baron, retorting with telling and touching questions about the nature of the box(es) the steward held for Werner. Once alone with the Baron, Lady F counselled the unthinkable – that the Baron disowned his only offspring and sever his family line, thus permitting him to name a worthy heir (and the Lady presented herself as willing to take this role). She spoke of how she knew it was not possible for him to do this, as a father, but how it was the only way that she could see the Barony he had built surviving the oncoming troubles. The Baron, naturally refused. Helena also spoke of the lands to the North and how she was requesting aid – from her father and the Order of the Raven, but also from other lords in the south of the Empire. Alas, she also wanted to be able to send refugees there to harbour, but the Lords would require assurances beyond the tax breaks on travel and trade that she could offer. She tied this in to needing the Baron to offer the prize, and intimated this could only be realised if he did sever ties with Josephine, naming Helena heir in her place, then offered the Lady’s hand to a Lord or his heir. Again the Baron had none of it – it would be too big a betrayal, at least before the Templars had arrived. He did, however, bid Lady FitzCarstein to take his addled brother, Gerhardt, to Drachenmalstein for safe keeping. The Baron argued that if the plan was for them all to shelter there if the attack did come then Gerhardt in his fragile mental state would need more time to prepare and travel than would the rest. The Lady agreed and said she would do this. However she left the meeting angry [for more reasons that outlined here, I suspect] and instead left Himmelfeuer that night, alone, and rode through the night to reach Drachenmalstein.

Next morning Scharf was up, prepared and leading his men off early – but only after stopping by Pou’s foundry for some bits and pieces. Pou wasn’t there, though they had arranged terms the previous evening, and Scharf let himself in to seize the goods. As he led his men out from the castle courtyard, the word was already going round that Lady F was missing.

Pou had got up late(ish) and was in the inn, talking over his “promotion” and wedding plans with Herbert, whose daughter Cornelia was also present and, as a trained book-keeper, quickly assumed responsibility for number-crunching the nuptials. A little later, as he was overseeing a drilling practice, Pou felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find Jonn, his hitherto missing foreman, looking him in the face, and seeming worse for wear. Jonn bade Pou follow him to the shop – where they found evidence of a break-in and hoped it was down to Scharf taking the arranged goods, though the thought of the theft irked Pou all the same – and more so after Jonn told his tale as the foreman didn’t trust Scharf at all. But the majority of his tale had been how he’d disappeared to track the retreating Tileans in the aftermath of the attack on Gunter, only to get jumped by bandits, who had tortured him and from whom he had only just managed to escape. Jonn spoke of hearing that Scharf was asking about him from a barkeep who had overheard the Captain’s conversation with Pou some nights before and felt that Scharf was trying to divide and conquer a bit.

Pou still had time to arrange for a few trusted Kupfers to head west looking for Josephine, with strict instructions to make her aware that people were looking for her, and to try to keep her safe.

Meanwhile Lady FitzCarstein reached a silent Drachenmalstein as it approached midday. There was no answer to her approach, knock or call – a truly unusual and disturbing find. It was only after a while when the wind died and she heard faint sounds of life from inside the castle proper carrying out. Annoyed before she arrived, and angry now, she tried the gate and found it unlocked. As she moved in it was clear the noise was coming from the great hall. She proceeded through, and upon throwing open the hall doors found almost her entire staff present. Jurgen was on the dais along with a figure tied to a stake. Helena’s brother hit him once, causing him to pass out.

Helena strode to the dais angry, shouting a challenge to her employees that they had work to do. As she got closer she recognised the limp figure: Helmut von Schicksal, the self-styled “lord” of another Border province. Jurgen claimed he was the poisoner who murdered the four monks of Morr – he was found uninvited and unwelcome in the Underworks, some time after their deaths.

Helena brought the man round and interrogated him. He confessed to the trespass (which could not be denied) but asserted it was accidental whilst pursuing academic interests from caves outside the castle, and categorically denied murder. Lady F laid out her position – including that she had hoped von Schicksal might be an ally in the coming trouble with vampiric forces, the mention of which caught him by surprise. She inquired much of him, his past and how he claimed to be where he was, then consigned him to the cells to await further decisions. Jurgen was livid but Helena would not summarily execute him without talking to him further and learning of how he came to be inside the walls.

Ended promisingly, and with the knowledge that the next session will start (and likely focus) with Scharf’s march southwards and what he finds there, and giving enough information to Lady F to convince her to keep von Schicksal alive was a big bonus for me.

Need to figure out how to write these sooner and quicker though – much missed, much forgotten and still too long and too late!

Splitting Heirs: Session Ten

2007-06-19T23:32:00.000+01:00

Bit overdue, this; where to begin?

There was a flurry of email traffic after the shocking revelations that brought session 9 to a close with a bang. Reactions to, and continuations of, the conversation Scharf instigated were flying through cyberspace as fast as they could be typed – it was clear that IC trust dropped through the floor, but out of character enjoyment was riding high. A lot of the substance of the emails was replaying in person at the table at the start of this session – partly because one player had been away and missed the avalanche of messages, and partly because the conversation had more to run that was covered in either the previous session or mails.

Recall of specifics is weak, however:

1) Trust issues were thoroughly laid out – with Scharf essentially being sidelined by the others as far as making wartime plans went, for (paranoid, but vaguely justified) fear that said plans would get back to the enemy somehow.

2) Basic arrangements – largely those in line with what Scharf had already laid out – agreed upon; chiefly this meant arranging for the Baron to move to take residence in Drachenmalstein for the time being.

3) Whether Pou and Lady F would support Scharf if he made his accusation of Werner. Pou was hesitant, citing a lack of solid evidence as a particular worry, and Lady FitzCarstein was supportive, yet careful to make sure everyone knew the potential risks. In the end both seemed (outwardly, at least) ready to support the motion.

The discussion was petering along and out when they heard and saw the clamour of a coach arriving at the castle. Somehow Brunnenhing had found a way to get himself back to Himmelfeuer and, with all the councillors back in town, should the Baron live up to his word, he was due to make an appearance. The arrival of the coach broke up the picnic altogether, Pou rushing off to confirm who it was and Scharf insisting he had another meeting to make. Before he could go, however, Lady FitzCarstein was overcome by impulse and – with Pou retreating into the distance – suddenly grasped the Captain and kissed him full on the lips, before turning away and storming off, angry with herself for her loss of control.

The three PCs then split and went their own ways – Scharf to his meeting with an unspecified individual, Pou to find some of the Coppers and arrange for riders to be sent to gather more in number, as well as to try to find the Baron’s wife to table a proposal regarding the future (not that he found her). Meanwhile Lady FitzCarstein paid a visit to the brothel – seeking to congratulate the future Mrs de Burns, and to pry a little about Pou, without much luck – before retreating to her room to pen urgent letters – to Pou (concerning mercantile matters), to her father (begging troops), and to the steward she had sent to manage Brunnenhing’s lands to warn and advise him of the dark horizons.

All three were interrupted part way through their doings by the bell summoning them to council.

The meeting began with all bar Pou and Lady F present – along with Georg Bodendreck, who was standing at Werner’s right shoulder. The Baron was not yet anywhere to be seen but the general milling of servants and Gottfrid began to strongly suggest he would be making an appearance. The atmosphere was testy, and got slightly darker as Lady FitzCarstein arrived bearing a note of bad tidings. She did not share with the room at large but did let Scharf know: Jurgen had just sent word that the four monks of Morr were dead, poisoned by assassins unknown whilst resident in Drachenmalstein!

Not long thereafter Pou appeared, also looking concerned, for he too had received a message as he made his way to the council chamber. Purportedly from Gunter down in the southern reaches of the barony, it said simply: “Help. Under siege!”

The first business at the table was what Georg was doing there; Werner claimed a motion would be tabled to add Georg to the council at the Baron’s decree, but beyond its mention it was pushed down the pecking order by Pou’s revelation of his note, and the talk of war it demanded. The urgency this imbued stayed Scharf’s hand and the accusation he was to level at the chancellor stayed under wraps. Instead Werner was pressed on how the coffers fared and what, if any, provision might be available for spending as a war chest – hiring mercenaries, paying soldiers and so forth. This pressing was harsh, but not unfair and Werner (grudgingly) revealed a fair amount. Motions were then taken to prompt securing said outside help through contacts maintained by individual councillors.

The further discussions were postponed by the Baron’s appearance. Hubst von Feuerwaffen may have been frail but he was abreast of goings on and rumour and coherent. He was keen to dispel thoughts of his ill health, and then moved swiftly on to the most pressing matter that concerned him directly – the succession, should he come to harm. He asked each councillor in turn for their candid and honest opinion on who should inherit the title and land in his passing. Captain Shcarf spoke first and mentioned Lady FitzCarstein as an astute politician, land manager and suitable noble, also mentioning Pou’s standing with the people and solid financial head. Lady F herself somewhat played down her case, but indicated she thought many of those at the table would do aptly in the role. Herbert spoke up and surprised Pou by mentioning him very strongly, whilst Brunnenhing unsurprisingly mentioned himself as his standing as heir by default suggested he might. Pou was unsure, but re-stated his support for the Baron and the continuation of a noble line; Werner, too, was unsure, answering last and committing a common thought to word: he would rather the Baron survived the coming conflict and give more time to find Josephine a suitable suitor.

The Baron thanked everyone for their input, before unsurprisingly revealing his own position; he would rather the control stayed within his family if possible. However he revealed deep seated worries about Josephine’s suitability and possible “taint”; he had, he said, been confined praying to Sigmar for guidance over what to do about her – something he had neglected for “too long” and claimed his God had given him answer and guidance at last: he had sent for Templars. Witch Hunters. He claimed that he needed to know whether Josephine was “tainted” as he feared, and that if not then matters of succession would be solved by his daughter being given proper training and tuition for the role of heiress. If she should be found to have such a stained morality… well, it was a gambit, but one he had already committed to. This cast a further dark mood over the gathered councillors and it was almost enough to prevent the vote on Georg’s councillorship taking place, but for Lady FitzCarstein’s remembering of the issue. The Baron did indeed sanction the move, and so Georg was voted in, no doubt his case strengthened by the fact his lands ran the southern border of the Barony and were even now possibly under assault.

The Baron left, then, pausing only to leave open invites to each of his councillors to a private session that evening should they wish it. There was still time, if not the right mood for it, for Pou to announce the details of his forthcoming wedding before the meeting broke up and the councillors went their separate ways to make preparations for meeting the threat to the south, and whatever else they had planned…

Interesting session that in the end turned out very differently from the expected; I had pitched the notes given to Lady F and Pou for a situation where they would be revealed after the accusation of Werner – designed to perhaps lessen their support for incarcerating him now and possibly leaving Scharf – gambit played – in a difficult position.

Instead they probably just funnelled the silence. The Baron’s revelation added urgency – especially given no-one knows where exactly Josephine is right now; she did not arrive with Brunnenhing – but not necessarily the depth of concern it would have had the news of a southerly “siege” not been broken.

The council scene was tense, and it was interesting to see how people answered when put on the spot by their liege. I enjoyed setting Pou up for being recommended – it is the last thing the character actually would want – and changing the dynamic on the council, which had become somewhat predictable.

Not yet decided who or what the siege is (it should play out tomorrow) or just how I’m going to advance from here. Hoping that some of the players will take up the offer of one-on-ones with the Baron as it will give me a source of ideas if nothing else. Feeling that it is certainly all drawing in now, but I’ve been under the weather since this session was played and so the game has been something of a tertiary thought – to its detriment and my dissatisfaction. I just hope that will not cloud the potential strength of the next session or few…

Things what need doing

2007-06-17T19:37:00.000+01:00

I am pondering, on the litany of endless small chores.

There are always more, and how few ever get done... Is it any wonder I feel perpetually ineffectual? Weekends aren't long enough, sleep deserts me too long and my mind is atrophying yet any sense of knowing what I want to do, or of the drive required to realise it are sadly ever absent.

And so I remain - endlessly fed up.

The Joy, and Frustration, of Achievement Points

2007-06-17T16:54:00.000+01:00

One of the things I both love and hate about gaming on the Xbox 360, achievement points are surely a point of interest about the platform.

Yes, they are very pointless and measure nothing; gamerscore is utterly pointless and representative of nothing (except perhaps the amount of time and money one has to put into gaming). Where they shine is pointing out potentially fun stuff that one might otherwise miss, or not bother to investigate. Where they incense, enrage and frustrate is where they apply to things that can almost be reached but then are whisked away by some failure of skill, concentration or other such failing, only to then require starting over (on the path to that achievement, at least).

In the former case come things like putting novelty masks on zombies in Dead Rising, or climbing to the top of - and jumping off - the top of the Agency Tower in Crackdown. These kind of incentives are great; the processes of getting them are amusing, fun, and (generally) voluntarily accepted challenges. On the other hand, the single achievement that frustrates me the most is that to get 5 consecutive shutouts in NHL2k7. This, by contrast, falls into the category of achievements that frustrate purely because they exist. If it did not, then conceding for the first time after 4 games and 2 1/2 periods would be a minor annoyance, not a "oh god, now I have to do all that again!" moment. (Yes, that did happen to me; and yes I realise this makes me a sad man, but I've known this for a while - hell the very fact I write anything here at all lends credence to that idea).

This observation of minor standing comes after I finally caved and ordered my 7th title for the console. The sheer number of people I vaguely know who are playing Shadowrun, plus the tactical depth they have reported it as supporting, combined with rewarding support play, have worn me down, and I expect it to drop through my door during the week. I might well come to regret the decision, but I'm sure it will be good for a few solid hours of laughter and fun all the same.

So long as I don't fall into the trap of trying to get the achievements, at least!

Splitting Heirs: Session Nine

2007-06-03T18:48:00.000+01:00

Between the end of the last session and the beginning of this one I had asked for insight on how the characters were seeing things – expressed thoughts from their point of view; in addition Scharf’s player emailed me a scheme and plan to be carried out in between sessions such that it had been completed “off-screen” by the time we got to the table. These two things have combined to massively increase out-of-game email and communications traffic, increasing the flow of ideas and, I think, the impact of the game.

This session really sparked the beginning of the climax, the power moves and has really set a (suitably vague) timetable for the end of the run. Not much seemed to happen for the most part, but it was all just build up for a cracking final scene which, I think, left everyone gaping a little.

It was the morning after Georg had arrived at Drachenmalstein, and already Lady FitzCarstein was planning to leave: the potential appearance of the Baron at a full council meeting had to be answered, after all. Georg would have protested, but instead saw fit to accompany Helena, not divulging his reasons for doing so. The Lady was content to have him along, though not with the huge wagon train he had brought to Drachenmalstein, which Georg had to abandon to his servants.

They arrived in town that evening, and whereas the Lady would normally take residence in the castle, this time she bought herself and her brother in law rooms in Herbert’s inn, to the consternation of the Mayor and fellow councillor. Helena admitted to Georg that the reasons for this were just to unsettle Herbert, whose positions on the council and activities outside of it were putting him very much at odds with the Lady of Drachenmalstein. As they were sitting down to dinner, the four Monks of Morr that Pou de Burns and Captain Scharf had met down south the previous day arrived looking for warm food and beds for the night. Recognising them for what they were, Helena joined them for a meal and introduced herself. She was keen to ask about their time down south, their origins, and what they would do now; they told her, as they had Scharf the day before, about fleeing a violent peasant reaction to their presence whilst within Duke Mörder’s borders, about their 5 years or more of spreading Morr’s tenets and word across the less than civilised lands of the Border Princes and their plans now to head back to the civilized lands of the Empire.

Lady F bade them stop at Drachenmalstein on the way, to acquaint themselves with Jurgen (a knight in the service of Morr, whom the monks knew by reputation) and further inform him of their findings. Helena had suspicions that she may need to call on the Order for assistance if Duke Mörder did prove to be more than human and the tensions exploded into full blooded war, and wished to forge as close a friendship with them as was possible. Georg wandered off part way through, and it was clear staying at the inn was not what he had in mind in Himmelfeuer, so the next day Lady F headed to the castle and arranged for him to stay there. She also tried to find the Baron, failing in that, but managing to sneak a look inside the private family chapel – the door was ajar, and inside it was a shrine to Sigmar, a thankful finding that their ruler was not confining himself in worship to less worthy deities. Lady FitzCarstein also made to deliver the Stirland Ravens to Ravenmeister Fedem, prompting glee in the old man of the birds. The encounter left the Lady chilled – for all that she needed his eyes on the coming and going mail, she found him disturbingly reminiscent of the birds he handled.

Pou, now strong enough to make the journey back to Himmelfeuer from down south, was also returning to the capital, having been unable to locate the missing Jonn, and leaving Gunter to his “stewardship” role. He arrived back in Himmelfeuer that evening and, after a visit to the Madamme of the brothel, whom he often spent time with, he made his way to the inn, spying Lady F in the corner when he got there. However first on the agenda was a chat with his old friend Herbert. The two disappeared off into a back room where Pou divulged details of the deal he had made with the Madamme, Helga, and how he had come to be shot in the shoulder. They also talked about Die Kupfers, and what to do about the forthcoming council meeting; talk of potentially declaring power in the name of the people until a suitable heir could be found was mentioned, but largely dismissed as a last resort. They did agree, however, that they wanted to have a squad of Coppers available at a moments notice in case things at the meeting turned sour. Lady FitzCarstein had manoeuvred herself to overhear bits and pieces of this conversation under the auspices of buying a drink, and was keen not to be thought to have eavesdropped when they reappeared.

After his conversation with Herbert, Pou looked to take the time to have a good, friendly, chat with Lady FitzCarstein but, as it tended to do, the discussion turned to the Coppers, their role and whether it was “right” to place peasants in harms way should it come to war. Not the most eloquent in these situations, Pou tried to use a metaphor involving Hedgehogs and Cartwheels [“the spikes may not save it, but at least the hedgehog would feel it had done what it could” – stated to much general mirth] which fell flat on the disbelieving noblewoman’s ears.

They met up in the inn again a couple of days later, only now Captain Scharf – who had been missing around Himmelfeuer – had returned and joined them. More witterings about the morals of putting the peasants in harms way were surprisingly interrupted by the Captain inviting both for a walk and a picnic (it was a rare dry day) somewhere more private. He had something to tell them that he could not risk letting others overhear…

[Summary of the conversation written by Scharf’s player]

Over impromptu breakfast in the fuller's field outside of town, Scharf revealed that he had spent the last three days meeting with Mörder to offer himself as a convenient mercenary and inside man. He'd done this mainly to scout out the land and the man. He learned that Mörder seemed human and competent enough, and was accompanied by two self-effacing advisors who may well not be human. Which, as Lady F pointed out, meant that they may have read his mind. Glossing over this, S added that his main advice to Mörder had been to attack Drachenmalstein for all sorts of entirely sound tactical reasons. This meant, he added, that the Kupfers would have to assist in the defence of Drachenmalstein, something to which the Lady was rather opposed. To the question, "so what will you be doing?” S replied that he intended to put his men to best use harassing the besiegers from outside. Pou cleaned his guns ostentatiously and wondered aloud whether they should just shoot him now.

Lady F asked archly if S had any other secrets he wanted to bring up; a question he'd wanted to answer for ages but now avoided by expanding his next plan, to arrest Werner at the next council and essentially declare martial law in doing so. This would involve arresting Werner's mercenaries (and possibly any other soldiers that S doesn't command) as well. S explained he intended the following things with this:

1) Get Werner somewhere where he could be questioned
2) Allow P and Lady F to search Werner's rooms and look over his ledgers
3) Put someone else in charge of running the Barony's affairs
4) Send a message to other important folk, especially Herbert, that if they didn't win S's trust they were next
5) Put S and his men in popular control

P said S was talking like a noble and that he shouldn't try and be in charge; S retorted that P, as an honest and capable man, should be in charge. S ate his breakfast while the others paced a lot.

We cut there, with the meeting still having a lot to run (potentially); it was a charged revelation, which prompted surprise in- and out- of character. Essentially Scharf unilaterally went and bargained with the enemy – who may or may not be (in thrall to) a vampire.

His gambit was great for the game, because it has set the stone rolling down the hill, as it were. Inviting attack will mean dealing with defence and following through with actions that permit this to be achieved effectively. It has also both solidified and split the characters; Lady F, for instance is greatly pleased that someone has shown the initiative and stones to actually do something about the situation, but feels completely incapable of sharing or trusting Scharf at all for fear that the contents of his mind belong – knowingly or otherwise – to vampires. Pou was shocked that the captain would even try to deal with something as objectively “evil” and wondering whether to remove the potential traitor right there and then.

In essence, everyone is agreed IC that something needed to be done; the way it was done is not at all how the others would have approached it, which is where the tension comes in. The next session will, barring unforeseen other stuff coming up, include the pivotal council meeting with Werner’s accusation which has the potential to go one of many different ways. Scharf’s sledgehammer is very different to the political stilettos Lady F would have used to achieve a similar goal, but what tricks might Werner have up his sleeve, and what will the Baron make of all their squabbling (assuming he appears)?

Splitting Heirs: Session Eight

2007-06-02T08:40:00.000+01:00

I’m a session behind now, and with things kicking into gear it is a real challenge to keep up (not least because writing these reports – useful as it is in myriad ways – takes a whole damn evening away from me!). And with the events of this session now 10 days old, my memory is flighty about some of the content; never mind…

Lady FitzCarstein awoke, reconsidering her decision to send Father Cantati to trial (and probably summary execution); instead she had in mind setting him to work redressing the sins of his past by helping build a future for those like his long-past victim. Informing him of this, she also had a first task for the condemned priest: he was to go through the records her brother Jurgen had brought from Stirland, and in so doing compile a précised report on the rumours of vampire sightings in the southlands, specifically any mention of the von Carsteins. The Lady also decided that now she would not be escorting a fugitive, there was no pressing need to return to Himmelfeuer; Brunnenhing would not be back in the town for days, and the Baron’s missive expressly stated he would only address the entire council. Thus Captain Scharf was left to head back alone. He planned to head further south, too – ostensibly investigating the ties between Georg Bodendreck, Werner and the Tileans, but planning to privately visit an old outlaw chief named Gretel the Rabbit, whose band lived in that region of the forest.

Pou was convalescing; no doctor available, but a decent self-administration of alcohol to clean the wound and a bit of a makeshift bandage to hold the blood in were enough to keep him alive and awake. Georg and Gunter had meanwhile stripped and examined the body of the Tilean that Pou had shot and gone through his things. They had not found anything of interest or significance, but when the unstable, yet now mobile, Pou noticed a distinctive mark on some of the man’s effects, confirming they were of the same bunch who had been running Brunnenhing’s lands until recently, and when he examined the man’s jacket he found something sewn into the lining: a small booklet of hand-drawn portraits. One of them resembled Gunter to a tee. This discovery made Pou confront his errant lad, wondering what he could have done to make himself known to, and a target of, these overdressed foreigners. It turned out that Gunter had dealt an underhand deal with them, taking weapons that had not made the grade from the De Burns foundry and selling them to some Tileans at full price. Pou was under the impression that there was a serious risk of backfiring amongst the weapons that did not meet his standards, and suddenly a reason for the men to be seeking Gunter’s downfall – quite literally! – became clear. Gunter, despite his shock, was adamant that it was better if Georg (who had since returned to his packing) were to believe he had been the target, the younger De Burns sensing the chance of profit in the stewardship role. Pou acquiesced to this, not saying anything, and before long Georg was mounted up and, with a wagon train far too large for a mere social call, was heading for Lady FitzCarstein’s seat in Drachenmalstein.

Pou, feeling faint, had a brief sit-down to gather his strength, and then made his way to the inn and accommodation. Somewhere along the way his trusted second, Jonn, disappeared; he has not been seen since. Meanwhile Scharf had travelled at some pace; the Captain made it to the same inn Pou had taken residence in the evening after his fellow councillor had been shot [Pou’s events of the previous session were a day or two ahead of the others]. They met, and talked, Scharf asking after Jonn and whether Pou had any relatives named Pieter, having been given those names by Father Cantati when he had been first quizzed in the drawing room at Drachenmalstein. Pou claimed ignorance, and the Captain let it drop, believing the names had been made up, possibly with the intent of causing him to investigate Pou (who everyone sees as a bit of a straight arrow).

Their conversation was cut short by a bit of a commotion; four black-clad figures had been spotted on the road, making haste towards the small settlement. A tense few moments passed – Scharf and Pou readying themselves for conflict if it were required – but as the four walkers closed, banging large staffs on the road with every step, it became clear that they were four monks from the Order of the Raven; monks of Morr.

Scharf took command, publicly inviting and welcoming them into the inn; they had, they claimed, fled persecution in the south – beyond the border in Duke Mörder’s territories. The claim was that the peasants had taken exception to their teachings and – after several years wandering the Badlands spreading Morr’s word and minding the dead, they had been forced to flee northwards to escape a pitchfork-wielding mob. Scharf listened, pulling in details that might pertain to the state of play south of the border; it was clear that someone was stirring the peasants into this action, though the monks had said the authorities had welcomed them wherever they had been. Scharf also asked them about Jurgen FitzCarstein (they knew him by reputation) and then proceeded to tell the monks of Lady FitzCarstein’s residence in the Barony and where she and her brother might be found. The rest of the evening passed without note.

Next morning, Pou was continuing his convalescence whilst Scharf rode out to meet Gretel the Rabbit, an old bandit chieftain whom he knew (and he consequently turned something of a blind eye to the activities of her band). Meeting at a glade in the woods (clearly a common meeting spot, and a place of thanksgiving), they discussed movements south of the border (where Gretel’s bandits were active, and had good intelligence on troop movements and so forth), as well of mutual acquaintances. Gretel was interested to know more about Lady FitzCarstein, having been asked to pass her information by a mutual friend, and Scharf asked about Aachen, the fellow he had seen in the forest outside Brunnenhing’s manor, both giving guarded responses but learning a little. However it was the information about Mörder’s troop movements that was most readily useful; the Rabbit was able to confirm the rumours amongst the populace about troops now doing exercises on the southern border, with Mörder’s general, Großewaffe, in attendance. Various other small-talk, veiled threats and implorations later, Scharf departed amicably for the inn and rest.

Meanwhile in the damp halls of Drachenmalstein Lady FitzCarstein and her brother Jurgen had a chance to talk about life, the situation at hand, and family – with Jurgen touching a nerve by mentioning his sister’s frosty relationship with their father, after Helena had asked how many men she might be able to procure from the North if it was required. Lady FitzCarstein bears some bitterness against the patriarch who sold her to a drunk and violent man from an unfancied backwater. Her response prompted Jurgen to ask her about the death of her Husband, Hans, but Helena replied as she always did that “he went adventuring”, and from there the conversation quickly died, and the Lady sent her Brother out to begin the gathering of information about the Coppers in the area (with strict instructions that none were to be harmed).

It was a few days later when Georg arrived, carriage and wagons carrying enough junk to give the impression he had horribly misread the Lady’s invitation, and thought he was to be moving in! In the event he received a rather frosty welcome as once initial pleasantries were out of the way, Lady FitzCarstein was quick to fire a barrage of questions and accusations at her hapless visitor concerning the communications he and Werner had been having. Georg revealed that he was, in a sense, working for Werner – providing him with information and service in return for having an ally on the council, something the Lady’s brother in law would sorely need if he was to ever realise what he felt was his right: a seat of his own.

Skippage and misremembering are likely in this case (alas) so I’ve tried to keep it short. There was, additionally, talk in Drachenmalstein of a theory of “talented” young women, all around the same age as Josephine, Jarla and Lady FitzCarstein, who may or may not have some unconscious talent, or attunement to the winds of magic (aka “herbalists”).

The scenes with Lady F and her brothers (one by birth, one in-law) were very charged by my recall, giving good insight to the character, her motivations and one of the possible decisions she will face in the near future: will she prevail of her father’s aid if the Barony is attacked as seems likely? Her slap-down of Georg was amusing and I was squirming for him even as I portrayed his responses. There is more yet to run in that…

Pou has been sidelined a bit by his injury, but this is very much the calm before the storm; how he deals with the Coppers and their place in the wrangling for power could make or break him.

Scharf meanwhile gave hints to his past and set up what would then become the boldest move of the game (played out by email between the end of this session and the start of session nine – completed and awaiting write-up – thus setting up a slew of forthcoming events), one that has the potential to split the council, bring war to the forefront of everyone’s minds and thus bring forward the shaping of the future.

Session nine has been played and will hopefully follow soon.

"Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnsssssss"

2007-05-27T11:38:00.000+01:00

I love console "classics" ranges; come to the game late, get it cheaper.

I picked up Dead Rising the other day and, frustrating and tough as it has proved, running around a mall saving people, shooting psychos and slaughtering the shambling dead in myriad amusing, brutal and interesting ways is dead good fun.

The comedic tone is set when the zombies manage to get into the mall when an old lady cannot bear to leave her poodle outside the barricade, thus dooming herself and several others. Oh how I chuckled, even as I struggle to actually progress.

I've also finally acquired Microsoft Points and bought Catan (an electronic adaptation of the Settlers of Catan boardgame). Much fun, even though I've yet to play against a thinking opponent.

Splitting Heirs: Session Seven

2007-05-22T23:23:00.000+01:00

After a delayed start (and associated ad-libbing with what Pou was doing in a very quiet Himmelfeuer, chatting with Herbert and chasing up news from the South where Gunter had run to), we picked up the scene in the feast hall at Drachenmalstein; it ended up being a lot less dramatic than I had envisioned, yet at the same time ultimately working out in a way that felt right.

Lady FitzCarstein naturally invited the Captain to the feast, it would not have been proper not to; a place was made at the top table, along with the Lady and her brother and a couple of other local dignitaries. Father Cantati, meanwhile, slunk off to a low table near the exit, after having given the requisite blessings. Conversation was lively during the meal, though understandably steered away from the issue at hand; that would be discussed in relative privacy in the moments after the feast. Jurgen and Scharf poked and pried about each other, and about the nature of the tasks the Lady had invited her brother to Drachenmalstein to perform (investigating the copper-ring wearing individuals in and around Drachenmalstein and Bardslaughter, and then investigating the truth or otherwise to the involvement of vampires in Duke Mörder’s expansionistic plans). This in itself was news to Scharf, who had assumed it was merely a familial visit, and it sparked much talk of the state of the Barony, the threats facing it, and the status of Baron and (lack of) heirs. [An update of who is who and what fingers are found in which pies might be a good idea before long, eh?].

After dinner the two FitzCarsteins and the Captain retired to a more private chamber where they could talk freely. It was at this point that Scharf raised his reasons for appearing, unannounced and uninvited, at Drachenmalstein; the Lady understood, Father Cantati having given her notice that he might be wanted for questioning as a result of long-past indiscretions. Before too long – after Jurgen’s tasks had been fully outlined, and their ramifications discussed openly with the Barony’s military mind – the Lady’s brother was “called away” to deal with a “sickness amongst his retinue”; Jarla, who had been present as the maid in waiting, disappeared at the same time, casting doubt on this claim. Lady FitzCarstein and Captain Scharf then deigned to go and find the Father and question him past the point of the interruption; to get the fifth name, and take what steps were needed.

They found him seated at the back of the castle’s dark, damp, library, reading by the meagre light of a candle stub. Approaching as one, the question that had been pregnant in the air around Cantati since Vod rescued him from the pre-dinner grilling was asked: who was the fifth member of Leuchttern’s ring? Speaking slowly, clearly, and resignedly, knowing that he had to come clean and there was no dodging the question this time, Cantati revealed it had been him, following it up with weak, pointless and barely coherent ramblings of qualification. Scharf had heard enough, though; he had suspected as much, and with the nature of the crime hitting a hot button of his, he stormed over to the other side of the room so as not to unduly lose his temper whilst the Lady dealt with the inevitable need for judicial arrangements. Cantati would be taken to the cells for the night, and then brought to Himmelfeuer for due process; she thanked him for his frankness and admission, and then walked with Cantati and Scharf to the cells, where her guard were shocked, but complied with her order to lock him up.

The Lady and Scharf then retired to her private suites; taking wine, they talked – first about Cantati, how personally the Captain had taken the admission, and how Lady FitzCarstein would not take the consequences of choosing to confess from her former instructor, despite misgivings of the worth of a formal trial. Then, as they drank more, they talked about their childhoods, relationships with fathers (distant, though they were), and even their romantic lives. They spoke, too, on the state of the Barony, and about whether Herbert’s visions of Die Kupfers were a threat or challenge to social order; both were inclined to think Pou’s visions more innocent. Mooted amongst these words was the proposition of Lady FitzCarstein as Baroness in future, as Scharf was well abreast of much of her politicking. They ended with talk of secrets and trust, Lady F giving nothing away, and claiming to need to know little to trust her staff; her closeness on the issue, and seeming lack of interest in whatever he was hiding, (along with, perhaps, a misinterpretation) left Scharf feeling a little uneasy, and wondering how the noblewoman actually saw him. The evening tailed off in more wine and small-talk, before the Captain fell asleep in his armchair and the Lady retired to her bedchamber. Jarla returned sometime early in the morning and found the Captain asleep in the Lady’s chambers, sparking rumour and curiosity as to what had passed the night before.

The whole of Drachenmalstein was a rumour factory, however, with Cantati’s incarceration the talking point. Lady F was forced to tackle the rumours head on, assuring them of the solid grounds for detention and the Father’s willingness to accede to it, before handing the castle over to Jurgen for the time being and making ready to accompany Scharf and his captive back to Himmelfeuer. Not only the prospect of the trial awaited, but so, perhaps, did an audience with the Baron, if the entire council could be assembled.

Pou, meanwhile, had been kicking his heels a little; nothing much was happening in town and without a shipment due for a fair while the gunsmith was at something of a loose end. Herbert suggested it might be time to nail down Gunter and see what he was up to; incidentally there had been less news than might have been expected from their network down south, and it might be worth looking into it. Figuring he had nothing better to do, and that it would prove useful, Pou set off; Gunter had been seen liaising with Georg Bodendreck – the brother of Lady FitzCarstein’s late husband – which gave his father a place to start the search.

Travelling swiftly, but asking for general news from copper ring-adorned men and women on the way, Pou headed off to the southlands and the Bodendreck Manor, worried in part that the overlooked lordling, (and to a lesser extent his wayward bastard), might have mixed loyalty to the barony, so close were their lands to the borders with Mörder’s territories. He first met up with his foreman, Jonn, and the smattering of men he had left on Gunter’s trail when the lad had first skipped town, then – posing as the merchant he was – set off for the Manor house. He found it busy; wagons and carriages were outside and servants were busy attending both. A little prying revealed that the Lord of the manor had cause to be away a while – supposedly visiting Lady Helena FitzCarstein – and had left stewardship of his lands in Gunter’s hands in the meantime. This was a shock to Pou; he was unaware Gunter knew Georg that well, and knew how unsuited his lad was to estate management!

Walking in through the open door, Pou enquired as to where the Lord was, claiming he had business, and received directions to the main chambers upstairs. Passing through the garishly opulent hallway and up the stairs he heard someone giving a serving boy an ear bashing. His entrance was not appreciated, however, as the Lord, busy in his preparations to leave, and not the best tempered of men, demanded to know who he was and what he was doing, barely stopping to listen before screaming for Pou to get out. Non-plussed, Pou left and was just outside when he saw Gunter riding up. Careful to keep the busy loading of wagons between him and his son, he watched Gunter ride up, dismount and enter the manor; Pou and Jonn then ducked back inside, taking inconspicuous seating on a bench in the hallway and hoping to overhear something of interest.

They did not. However after a brief conversation with Georg, Gunter reappeared on the balcony overlooking the hall, at which point Pou engaged him in startled conversation (centred around both of their pretexts for being there, the sale of firearms). It was during this conversation, with Georg unknowing in his main chambers, that a stocky man in bright pink tailored clothing and a foppish hat walked in seemingly unnoticed and began to climb the stairs. Thinking nothing of it at first Pou and Gunter carried on their exchange, but then Pou realised that the man was going to attack his son, attempting to throw him over the handrail. Springing into life Pou began up the stairs after him, having given Gunter a warning to hold on! The warning was not enough to prevent the small man tipping Pou’s son over the rail, but had given Gunter time enough to get a hold. Pou reached the top of the stairs and confronted the man, holding a pistol level at him, but undeterred the man stepped in and swung a punch at Pou, missing, but then lunging for, and grabbing, Pou’s weapon arm. At this moment Georg came hurtling out onto the balcony, pistols waving, and loosed a poor shot at the stocky man’s back (shattering a rather expensive looking vase when he missed). Jonn (and, once he got his bearings, Georg) then combined to try and haul Gunter back to safety, whilst Pou faced off with the intruder. Unable to use his firearm, Pou looked to use the stairs and gravity; the little man’s momentum was taking him down, past Pou, and towards the rail, and by shifting his foot just so, Pou sent him tumbling, though he lost the grip on his pistol as his arm was yanked round with the small assailant.

Remarkably the little Tilean (whose feathered hat had somehow stayed atop his head throughout his tumble) managed to roll to his feet and make for the front door, astonished servants standing off as he did so. Pou gave chase but could not see him by the time he got to the door. Reasoning he must be hiding behind a wagon, Pou braced himself for a shot the second the man broke cover, then when he saw nothing moved to look the other side of the assembled carriages, calling for the figure to come out. The only response was the ping of an arrow off the stonework nearby; his assailant had had friends on the roof! A snap shot back missed, before a second figure appeared on the rooftop and loosed an arrow that caught Pou in the shoulder. Bleeding, Pou fell back to the doorway, bracing himself through the pain, his aim at the rooftop; when one figure stood to loose again, a ball of shot caught him between the eyes. Gunter was safely down by now, but with aerial cover of the courtyard outside and Pou bleeding profusely despite the arrow shaft still stuck in his shoulder, the group fell back inside the house, reasoning to take sightlines on the barn roof from the upper floor of the main house. There was a “click”, like a weapon firing, but when he turned, Pou saw no imminent danger and thought nothing further of it. It was only a minute or so later someone happened to spot the pink-clad man riding off across the fields on a stolen horse. Pou took aim from the doorway, but given the pain in his shoulder and the range, the best he could manage was catching the horse on the rump, which served no purpose but to spur the beast on in agonised flight, it’s rider hanging on for dear life…

Good fun, and the dice, when used, backed up the vision of events I had hoped for to boot. The scuffle mixed it up a bit, and probably asked even more questions than were answered; the motives for the failed assassinations down south are far from clear (though there is at least one body to search for clues). It’s worth noting that I write “Tilean” in the summary, but just said “foreign” in game; the obvious link is that this guy was either the scout seen leaving Brunnenhing’s manor or affiliated to those guys. Whether the obvious is true or not is another matter.

We’re nearing the point where something really big has to happen; small things tick over fine and everything which is going on plays to at least one of the PCs’ personalities, but shifting focus to the southern reaches of the Barony should pave the way for ramping up talk of impending war (the peasants have certainly been gossiping about it down there).

The trial of Cantati should prove an opportunity to dig at Scharf’s taking the crimes personally, whilst the possible appearance of the Baron should be a centre point of an episode in the near future.

So, I'm finally watching Firefly

2007-05-19T12:01:00.000+01:00

Yeah, that's right.

Me, who "doesn't like Sci-fi or westerns"; me who has previously stated (amongst other things) "Whedon is an overrated hack"; me who just does not get the slavish (or even non-slavish) praise thrown at Buffy or Angel (and no, no way that is going to change; I've seen enough to remain thoroughly unconvinced).

I was shown the pilot and the first episode a few weeks ago. Neither really captured me, and indeed the former rather played to my preconceptions by trying to do too much (unnecessarily introducing each and every one of the ensemble) whilst actually achieving very little. However there was enough there to hint at what everyone [on RPGnet] was banging on about for years; spots of brightness in the dull gloom, if you will.

So I've borrowed the discs, and I'm ploughing through it. Mainly it's making me laugh - both through genuine "yes that is funny" moments, and "oh my god, could that be any more corny?" moments - but there is more to it to my continued watching. Visually it does not work for me (two stunning beauties aside); the planetside sets make me cringe, the camera work and cuts leave a lot to be desired (YMMV etc.); this more than cancels the humour.

I thus grudgingly have to admit, stepping back a little from my "hack" remark in the process (though his other two big shows still support it, damnit! ), that the reason I am still watching is well written characters. Some more-so than others, granted, but there is something about all of them to hold interest. That said, I don't really like Mal; sure he's a little interesting (they all are a little), but - and I'm not sure if it's performance or writing - something leaves me a bit cold there.

For me Simon is proving the heart of the show - his relationship with River, Kaylee's crush on him and the edginess between him and (most of) the rest of the crew is the primary dramatic force holding my attention.

So, um, yeah; nothing more. I'm less than half way through so far and opinions may change yet further, but I'm finally getting hints as to what all the fuss was about.

So, it's another year in the Conference (and other Assorted Random Snippets to Entertain)

2007-05-16T19:05:00.000+01:00

Another in the vein of Everything and Nothing; a sure sign that the combination of lifestyle, mental state and the work I'm doing is not good for me. A happy, healthy and alive me would be seeking to write discrete entries for these things. Oh well, it's not to be for now.

The title refers to the disasters of last week when, despite winning the away leg 1-0, Oxford conspired to lose on penalties to Exeter in the conference playoff semi-finals, ending the hopes of an immediate return to the top flight. I'm not actually as gutted about this as I would have been as, generally, I find my interest in football waning some across the board. Still, it would have been nice if the excellent early season performance had been more the "real" nature of the team than the dismal end to it.

Also on the sporting front, this week signals the beginning of the (international) cricket season in England, with the first Test at Lords kicking off on Thursday. Despite the pratfalls of team and tour party over the winter (the still somewhat unbelievable CB series win aside) England should really be looking for convincing wins over a West Indies team that has lost it's talisman of the last 15 years or so. Brian Lara retired after the World Cup and whilst his brilliant best was, I feel, some years behind him, losing someone of that talent is going to be a major hurdle for their side to straddle. England, meanwhile, have injury problems galore and a new coach to boot. The one good thing to come from the World Cup was Duncan Fletcher's resignation; hopefully new coach Peter Moores (and his new assistant, former Zimbabwe world #1 keeper/batsman Andy Flower, who I reckon will be a fantastic appointment) will revitalise a team that has great potential but has looked light of belief and direction of late. I'm hoping without real belief that Moore's pet pick, wicketkeeper Matt Prior, proves himself worthy, but more than that I'm hoping that a sea-change is signalled and that whilst we only really have 4 truly classy bowlers (Hoggy, Harmy - assuming his mind is right, and his early-season form for Durham suggests it might be - Freddie and Monty) the extra batsman is picked and any surplus overs can be cobbled from the likes of Collingwood, Bell and Pietersen, who can all turn their arms over decently. I think it would make for a stronger side, especially as and when Vaughan returns and could lend his under-rated offspin to the equation. I fear, though, looking at the make-up of the squad, the mindset is currently too firmly set on 5+5+Keeper. Time will tell.

Away from sports, I'm coming up to the end of the free trial Gold membership of Xbox Live, and will be paying for the service soon. That said, it's proving fun, even if I have so far limited myself to playing with the one person on there that I know well offline - my idiot threshold is low and whilst I'm sure there are plenty of good folks out there (and some I know I'd love to game with if our tastes and times overlapped) at the moment I haven't fully abridged myself of the opportunities. That said I have had a chance to smack Garry at Cricket, and was thumping him at Table Tennis too before my connection dropped. Hopefully thumpings will not continue, it's more fun if there's contest. Those aside, there has been more co-op shooting alien-zombies in the face in Gears of War, which is a nice wind down to any evening.

There was a bit of excitement this week when the gaming group were briefly discussing Primetime Adventures, the game I most want to actually play - by the rules and everything! Ultimately though I suspect we shall not - it really isn't a good style match for everyone and whilst people might be willing to give it a try, the success or failure would appear to ride on peoples' initial buy in and enthusiasm for the concept, which is far enough removed from standard RPGs to not be a given. It will be a shame if it does not happen, but perhaps more of one if it does and falls flat. In any case the current game is set to continue a few weeks yet (at the very least) , and what happens thereafter is up in the air for now.

To end on a thoroughly positive note, musically life is good. A couple of weeks ago I had a few days off and headed down to see a mate in Bristol. Whilst there I not only saw Thea Gilmore play an acoustic set at the Fleece (my primary reason for booking holiday and descending on Bristol), I was also back in the same venue the next night to see Nick Harper who, whilst he did not thrill me with his music, certainly knew how to entertain a crowd. In between the two - God Bless Fopp! - I found a copy of Tom Waits' Orphans for £20, so finally persuaded myself to make it mine. Even better than all of that, though - and surely worth a post to itself but for my tired mind - is the album that has been on constant play for the last 5 days since it arrived.

Ma Fleur by The Cinematic Orchestra is a stunningly good album. I liked - not loved - their earlier works, but this release has everything. So well crafted, so appropriately rich or sparse where required, so beautifully performed and recorded. It is Music That Makes the World Alright. That is, no matter what the weather (and it has been doing allsorts; the drive to Windsor Castle - where we took my Grandmother for a birthday outing on Sunday - was through almost zero visibility for rain and spray, and both today and Saturday were changeable if nothing else!) it makes it feel like a bright warm sunny day. Despite the fact I have really been feeling my loneliness recently - this during a few weeks that have seen more social activity for me than most 3 month periods - it banishes all such thoughts.

Now, I have to go press play before I type "if only I had someone to share it with".... Bugger.

Splitting Heirs: Session Six

2007-05-15T23:37:00.000+01:00

An interesting session this; it began (and to a degree ended) with a discussion of system and style. We’ve never really been playing WFRP despite the setting and the character sheets: I don’t tend to introduce much in the way of crunch at all, and then only at pivotal moments, and there was discussion about increasing scene control for the players, which I was all for; it had been planned all along but lost in discussion and interpretation of setup.

It was also interesting from an in game point of view: more happened, which helped, but the greatest impact was made by the character dynamics changing. The explicit endorsement of player-set scenes and faster pace of background events allowed Captain Scharf to really come to the fore for the first time in the six sessions.

We picked up by wrapping up events to the West, where the Lady FitzCarstein’s ruse of war had succeeded in ousting the mercenaries squatting in Lord Brunnenhing’s manor.

The plan having been successful in dislodging the occupants, and the prolonged no show of the scout making the continued vigil on the road obsolete, the Lord Brunnenhing was moved back into his manor house. Over the next few days arrangements were made with the local smallfolk by the resourcefulness of the Captain and his use of the copper ring and Pou’s name; Lady FitzCarstein was involved in the initial stages but soon set off for her seat at Drachenmalstein, where her brother Jurgen was due any day, and there were many administrative tasks to perform. She would arrange for a capable steward to return west to aid the smooth running of Brunnenhing’s lands, whilst the Captain was instructing the locals on how things would run in the coming weeks. A moratorium on taxes sent back to Himmelfeuer was used as weight against them helping to clean, fortify and run the manor and it’s surrounding lands, whilst Brunnenhing and Josephine, who surprised everyone by electing to stay, would be expected to muck in on pains of missing out (as the smallfolk had been explicitly told not to listen to either of the nobles).

Lady F, meanwhile, got home the night before her brother arrived. She had much to mull over; the message appended to the rabbit had been from Georg Bodendreck – her late husband’s brother – to Werner… but sent via the mercenaries then holding Brunenhing’s lands. It contained information about goings on to the south – where the barony bordered Mörder’s lands, and records of the Bodendreck tax takings. In addition to her ruling duties, her scheming regarding Brunnenhing’s land, and Josephine, and the imminent arrival of her brother there was the situation with Father Cantati to deal with. However, arriving back late as she did, her first stop was to check in with Jarla and have a good girly catch-up; gossip was shared, primarily regarding the Baron’s daughter and her willingness to “mix” with the smallfolk. Jarla proffered the opinion that perhaps there was more to Josephine than met the eye, and that maybe she knew how to protect herself in romantic dalliances through some “talent” or other; this would also explain the Baron’s lukewarm appreciation of her, with his devout attention to Sigmar cooling him decidedly on other forms of supernatural signs. Speaking of the Baron, there was a missive bearing his seal awaiting Her Ladyship; it spoke (in Gottfrid’s hand) of the Baron wishing to give council once all of his councillors were back in Himmelfeuer. Being unable to leave right away, but knowing that Brunnenhing would linger long to the West, she put it out of her mind turned to other tasks: sending a steward to Brunnenhing. Lady F called her own steward in for advice – did he know someone capable to send? He offered to go himself, sensing the size and potential import of the task and without another suitable recommendation. In his place he recommended an up-and-coming member of the household staff who would flourish under the responsibility with the tutelage of a shrewd Lady.

Meanwhile Pou was back in a quiet Himmelfeuer, trying to pry into Herbert’s mind after his old friend’s mannerisms had aroused suspicions. By taking the friendly drink (or 10!) route he managed to winkle out the fact that Herbert was still concerned about the death at the mining camp, more than most others were now, some days after the fact. A second night’s revelry paid off further, Herbert letting slip that he had been behind the thefts that occurred, wishing to split the council, not trusting the higher-born members (items had been “found” in Brunnenhing’s and Lady F’s retinues and rooms). His motives were not clear from his drunken spilling, but Herbert clearly had something in mind.

Captain Scharf came back to Himmelfeuer with all this in the air. He spoke at length with Pou, and they decided it was time to break Die Kupfers into the open, planning training drills and the like and involving the small standing army in the creation of this “people’s militia” to give it a veneer of respect. Werner noticed the change but, given the army’s involvement and the finance being privately provided he had to relent and agree that given omens to the south it might well be needed. Scharf and Pou also found a moment to speak with the until-then elusive Manfred, who was back working in the bar (this may or may not have been before Herbert’s second slip of the tongue). He revealed that Herbert had instructed him to take, then place the stolen items, Scharf’s stated lack of interest in prosecution convincing him to come clean in his motives.

The day of Jurgen’s arrival came; Lady F had the house in order to receive him and a feast planned for the evening in celebration. She still had to outline to Jurgen the exact nature of the tasks she had for him, but there would be time for that in the coming day(s). Jurgen – a big, booming character – was both impressed and disappointed with Drachenmalstein, but was thinking of staying for a decent period given the hints of vampiric activity that had prompted Helena to request certain books from the family library.

The evening feast came, and was about to get underway when a member of the house staff called Father Cantati from the great hall; a messenger had come to speak to him with some urgency. The Father went out to see his summoner, but returned presently requesting a private chamber in which to receive his guest. And to ask for the Lady to send Commander Vod, captain of the Drachenmalstein guard, to fetch him were he not back in 10 minutes.

Cantati had been called out by Captain Scharf, who did not with his presence to be known; the Captain had travelled to Drachenmalstein that day to interrogate Cantati, whose name had come up in the investigations of child abusers linked to the killing at the mining camp. Cantati took Scharf to an ornate, but rarely used, drawing room and began questioning, probing for the names of others that may have been involved. Cantati revealed that he knew Leuchttern well, meeting him in social circles before finding out of his perversions – which the priest (in his eternal shame, and having just left the formal priesthood) did nothing to stop. As the chat proceeded, Cantati revealed other names, four of five involved were named, the dead miner and Leuchttern already known. Of the other three, one was reported as fled, and another of whereabouts unknown.

Scharf was pressing for the fifth name when there was a knock on the door; Vod had come to find Cantati. Scharf asked for another couple of minutes, but under the Father’s visual direction Vod made out there was no chance of delay. At this point Captain Scharf decided to invite himself to the feast, and the trio moved off towards the feast hall, the Captain’s presence causing a surprise to those assembled as he entered…

Poised nicely, in the end; a centrepiece conflict which on the surface, at least, pits Scharf directly against Lady F will hopefully not disappoint as it opens next session.

That setup aside, two new pieces of information are also now completely open for interpretation: Herbert’s masterminding of the thefts, using Manfred’s expertise to introduce conflict amongst councillors, and Werner’s explicit ties to the mercenaries in the West. There were also signs to establish that, despite the universal fear to the contrary, the Baron is still alive, and that things might be afoot to the south – inside and outside the Barony. Various machinations are now underway (PC and NPC), and they are beginning to advance to bear fruit.

It was really nice to see more of Scharf this time out, and a point of conflict with Lady F will be a real potential insight into the depths of both characters, whilst the elevation of Die Kupfers to semi-formal “people’s militia” will surely spark interest between the three PCs when Lady F finds out about these developments. Jurgen’s poking around might stir things up, too and there is plenty of slack in events elsewhere to kick things if they start to flag a little.

It was a really fun session for me, and I’m hopeful that the little clearing up of any misconceptions before we began, and a conscious effort to maintain the higher pace, will help keep this working onwards and upwards.