Category: Ysbaddaden and Game of Chess (Page 2 of 2)

Inspirations: Dungeon Crawl Classics RPG

August 3, 2018 / / 1 Comment

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The Time: Free RPG Day 2017

The Place: a FLGS in Howell, Michigan

The What: Finding a copy of the 2017 Free RPG Day Dungeon Crawl Classics Quick Start Rules

The Result: Nothing.

I skimmed through the rules, liked the idea of The Funnel (where players create 0-level characters, like farmers and urchins and such, and then run them through an arduous dungeon and see who makes it out alive; livers get to become 1st level characters), and promptly moved on to other things.

I wasn’t really looking to run a new rpg. I had given up being a GM after some rocky experiences with a couple of game systems, my husband was taking over the GM role, we were looking at maybe playing some indie games or maybe even The One Ring RPG, but Dungeon Crawl Classics was just this little slim booklet with the cool cover.

But man, that cover. Every once in awhile, while working at my writing desk, that cover would peak through the stack of books surrounding it and I’d start dreaming. The strains of a Led Zeppelin mixed tape would waft through my brain. The feeling of forbidden adventure would beckon, as if I was ten-years-old again, hanging out at the library and gazing greedily at the AD&D 2nd edition books on the shelves, wishing my mom and dad would let me read them, wishing I could travel across Krynn, down into the bowels of a sorcerer’s underground fortress, to speak with dragons and steal magic swords. The cover of DCC’s rule book made me feel all that and more. It tempted me. Intrigued me.

But still, I didn’t go back to it. I was done GMing. We hadn’t role-played or even played board games in a long while. DCC was just a neat cover with some crazy rules inside. I wasn’t going to get caught up in it.

And then, about two months ago, I did. I grabbed the quick start rules again, read through them, loved the artwork, got somewhat inspired to Game Master an adventure (called “Judging” in DCC), and then told myself I was just flipping through the book to get ideas for Ysbaddaden and the Game of Chess. But in the midst of my inspiration-seeking idea-getting I found out I was kinda falling in love with this game. The art. Did I mention the art? It’s so freakin’ old school it makes my ten-year-old heart swoon. The game play (especially the magic) is all about wild, unexpected and chaotic shit happening; I loved the unpredictability, the anything-goes ethos. It WAS inspiring; I felt like my fiction had become too staid, too boxed in, and then DCC came along and said, “Go ahead, do something crazy. Nothing is off-limits. Fantasy doesn’t have to fit into neat boxes.” And now I’m ready to write almost anything, to let my imagination go wild, to write as if I’m a kid again, which is what DCC makes me feel: like a kid.

And kids play. Kids make up crazy shit. Kids aren’t bound by what’s expected or what’s “part of the genre.” Kids just know what feels fun, what excites them. DCC does that. It’s the rpg that speaks to my inner twelve-year-old.

I feel like games can be an awesome source of inspiration. They aren’t “literature” in the typical sense, but they do possess many of the features of narrative: setting, characters, conflict. With tabletop rpgs especially, players are encouraged to create a story together, to weave a narrative from the various numbers and statistics and dice rolls of the game. And with board games too, the imaginative elements are there for crafting stories. What else is the book Jumanji all about, after all? As soon as I finished rereading the DCC quick start rules this last time, I started writing a short story based on the zero-level funnel included in the book, “Portal Under the Stars.” Rpg fan fiction, basically. Something I have never done in my life, but DCC inspired me to do.

So yeah. I bought the core book. I’m reading it now and having all kinds of ideas. I haven’t GMed a game yet (planning on doing a modified version of Beyond the Silver Scream), but when I do, I hope it’s as fun and kick-ass as the game in my head. Regardless of whether I play the game or not, DCC still serves as fertile ground for my own storytelling. The feeling of the book — the vibe it gives off — is energizing. It fills me with the gusto I need to be creative.

Ysbaddaden and the Game of Chess, Preview Chapter 1

November 20, 2017 / / 1 Comment

Please note, this is not the final version of Chapter 1. The manuscript for Ysbaddaden and the Game of Chess is still in progress, and this is a sample chapter from that manuscript. The final and completed version of Chapter 1 will be available when the book comes out in 2018.

Chapter 1: “Whispers”

The ravens set out. They soared the skies; they listened. They heard the rustling of the summer trees, the young leaves singing as midsummer approached. They heard the voices of nature, the speech of animals and birds. They heard the ceaseless roar and hum of steel beasts, modern man’s chariot. They saw cities where there had once been gentle green. They saw pavement and metal and smoke from unnatural fires. They saw the explosion of humanity and the hidden whispers that were driven into secret places.

They flew over the great Tor, the hill that had once housed the death god. They flew over the town that was nestled there, ancient and holy. They soared to the edges of Dover. They followed the snaking path of the Thames. They spied London from the clouds. They descended into the city. They heard many things. They heard voices. Whispers.

The whispers spoke only one word. Only one name. An inhuman name. A name that had once struck terror but was now almost forgotten by the ears of men. Only the ancient ones remembered now. Only the ancient ones would speak it, and even then, only in whispers. The ravens heard it; they were drawn to it. They sought it out in the alleys and slums of London. They listened as they soared the skies. They followed the whispers. They followed the name.

Ysbaddaden.

***

The half-dwarf followed the ravens. He skulked and crawled and wandered over the earth, hiding in shadows, watching the ravens’ hunt. He kept one bulbous, milky white eye fixed on the black wings that crowded the sky. He followed them. He kept his ear tuned to the earth, heard the rumblings. He passed by the ancient hill in Somerset. He looked out over the white cliffs. He traveled the Thames and entered London in the mist of a June morning. He heard the whispers. He followed the ravens. He listened too.

The name was spoken, and the half-dwarf listened. He followed the voices who spoke the name. He followed the ravens.

And when he had heard enough, and seen enough, he waited. He waited for the wings to disappear. Then he waited again, watching from his crouched and cramped hideaway in the alleys of the city. Waited and watched for the arrival of the witch who commanded the winged army.

She came in the night. She brought with her an owl and a king.

The half-dwarf followed. He followed the ravens, and he followed the witch, and he followed the whispers. Legends were spoken, old myths and stories told by firelight. Shadows remembered. The earth and wet stones of London remembered. Goblin voices murmured it in the night. They whispered it. They spoke the name.

Ysbaddaden.

And the dwarf followed.

Camp NaNoWriMo April 2017

April 2, 2017 / / 0 Comments

Camp-2017-Participant-Profile-PhotoYsbaddaden and the Game of Chess (sequel to The Thirteen Treasures of Britain) is not making much progress. I had written about 7,000 words earlier this year, and then the Great Life-Altering News of 2017 happened: I found out I was pregnant. Again.

(Right. You see, I had a baby in October. THIS past October. 2016. So. Now we’re having “Irish twins,” a term I was unfamiliar with until the pregnancy test I took in January, and so here we are.)

Pregnancy, as it always does, makes me a grumpus in the first trimester, so I have not been inclined to work. (Okay, let me be honest: I slacked off. I got soft. I cherished the extra hours of sleep instead of being a highly disciplined word warrior who got her butt out of bed at 6:00 a.m. and got some serious writing done before the kids woke up. In my slight defense, I wasn’t getting much sleep since Mr. Baby [henceforth known as PJ] decided he wanted to start waking up every hour on the hour so we could put his pacifier back in.)

Anyway, Ysbaddaden suffered. The manuscript languished. I got lazier and lazier.

And that’s why I’ve decided to do Camp NaNo this month. I know I won’t finish the draft this month, but at least I’ll make some progress.

Because the beautiful thing about NaNo? Even if you don’t win — if you simply participate, if you write words you wouldn’t have written otherwise, if you get some inspiration, if you get re-energized and recharged, if you find a community of like-minded writers — then NaNoWriMo will be a success.

And what I need more than anything right now is some re-energizing. Let’s be honest: NaNo is simply fun. Camp NaNo even more so. The cabin assignments, the care packages, the slightly-kitschy camp-themed graphics and merchandise, the badges: it’s a place where writing ceases to be a solitary endeavor and instead becomes a communal celebration. NaNoWriMo is like one big writing party. And Mama needs a party right now.

For those who are doing Camp NaNo this month (or for those who are thinking of joining), my words of wisdom are these: Rediscover the fun of writing.

Camp is often a place for kids to rediscover nature and the spirit of camaraderie. For Camp NaNo participants, let’s rediscover what it’s like to be a kid. Let’s have adventures. Let’s tell stories around the campfire. Let’s create legendary moments that will live on in our hearts forever. Let’s delve into the depths of the lake, or search the wilds of the forest. Let’s eat lots of junk food and pull some pranks. Let’s sneak out at night and get into mischief. Most of all, let’s be wild and unfettered.

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