I haven't roleplayed in several months. In large part it was due to my health. But to a lesser extent boredom caused it.
You see I've been a storyteller my entire life, and the hardest part of being a good storyteller is to tell the stories that your audiance wants to hear. Too many storytellers don't do that. I have to limit myself to what my players can both handle (in terms of skill) and enjoy. My setting has a distinct flavour which I am very proud of. A dose of high fantasy, a touch of sci-fi, a few sprinkles of drama and intrigue. It reflects it's creators broad range of ideas as well as being a deeply fascinating mesh.
It would be unfair to say that I am bored of my world, or the ideas it represents, or the stories and characters therein. Closer to the truth would be to say I am bored with using the same tools, inspirations and general Mileu. I've added to my arsenal of storytelling almost non-stop for the last ten years. I've played in almost the same exact way for even longer then that. Its become a mold that stifles my creativity and bores me. I've been playing with an idea for a few months now. I've decided the time is right to gather some players and do it. I call it dreadspire.
It started with a simple image in my head. A row of battered bleary eyed heroes standing on a barren blasted landscape. Each looks with a combination of dread and awe upwards. It is wrong to call the dreadspire a tower, for towers are made of brick and morter. The dreadspire appears to be a giant ebon screw twisting itself into an empty sky. It's a marval of magical engineering; the spire itself breaches the ancient dimension of horrors, it appears to be made of whirling unspeakable darkness, but in truth it is the very fabric of reality twisted to new purpose.
It was an interesting idea, I had always intended to add more gothic elements to my setting but never had the time or inclination to follow them through. I took that inital interesting idea and melded it into my settings existing history. The tower was constructed by the 3rd apprentice of Zom who attempted to enslave the horrors of the otherworld. Being undead he was resistant to the effects of the horrors at first. But slowly it started to erode what remained of his sanity. With what remained of his wit he attempted to seal the breach between the two dimensions. Although partially successful the taint from that dimension has leaked into the countryside... a remote valley kingdom along the eastern border of Brenntor and Kokuran.
The tiny kingdom's armies are soom engulfed by lesser horrors and the crazed necromancers now escaped minions. It escapes the notice of the major powers completely. Mordathal has been sacked and the children of Taia greatly depleted. The knights of Brenntor and the Elves cannot leave the Worldseed unguarded and therefore cannot be of aid. Most of the other powers suffered heavy losses in the war of the sundered soul, the only two major players to remain unscathed were the demons of Kilrah and the Celestials of Sethror. Both had refused to venture troops to the mortal plane and it appears that trend would continue.
The temples to the gods are destroyed in this tiny country, the monasteries for monks, the wizards towers. The survivors are pushed back farther and farther. Heroes, adventurers, knights, sellswords and even the occasional supernatural rise up to fight the spreading corruption. Most are cut down or driven insane. Some become undead and others are twisted by the otherworld into soulless monsters.
Finally from the west comes a hope. The crusader Pell brings his army of undead hunters, with him are an order of Chronomancers who intend to seal the rift of the Dreadspire.
The genre of Gothic horror is famous for some elements of this situation. The powerlessness of the local government, the fall of heroes, corruption of even the most noble or powerful. The themes are plentiful. But what makes them interesting in the context of my setting is what I bring to bear against the unspeakable horrors. Often in Gothic horror the heroes are portrayed as being powerless against the old ones except for a bit of rare lore or a powerful artifact. In my setting magic is plentiful and replaces technology in many regards. The old ones are powerful but they are they are not indestructible. Mortals have the power to combat them. The breach can be repaired by the Eternal Order who watches over the health of time and space. The undead are not so fearsome to Pell's crusaders who have fought them for two decades.
Also one thing makes my Gothic horror sub-setting better then most others. No werewolves fighting vampires. Seriously. We get it. Cut it out with the vamps v wolves thing.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
PvP, All night long
This morning/last night was the first time in years that I have spent the entire night in WoW pvping.
It's funny because Adul isn't even geared or specc'ed for PvP. I built him for long fights and mana efficiency: slow and steady DPS. Despite my spec and gear being all wrong for it I dominated several games and rarely got under 3rd place.
The mage requires a very high degree of skill in WoW, He dies easily which means he has to constantly be moving around. However if your moving you can't cast your most powerful spells.
On top of that the recent hunter buff has taken away the one slim advantage we had over them. If an enemy ducks behind something and breaks your line of sight your spell fails.
Because of these and a million other factors a mage is easily one of the hardest and most reflex intense classes in the game. (I give rogues credit in this area as well.)
4 months ago I wouldn't have had the reflexes to do this, and my reflexes are still no where compared to what they once were. But tonight felt really good. WoW is a hobby, games are my hobby. But it feels incredible to start to reclaim this aspect of my life, because even (or especially) a hobby is worth doing the very best you can.
It's funny really, even though I was there for honor I didn't really care about getting more honor/wins. I just really enjoyed what I was doing. A lot of times people PvP to get better gear... for PvP but they don't enjoy it. It boggles my mind sometimes.
On a slightly related manner I'm getting everything gathered again to start work on my sorting. I got sick before I finished last time and I lost a lot of my progress. Most of my free time lately has been spent getting my WoW characters back to a playable level. It's really not the most productive use of my time but lately I haven't really cared. Maybe blowing everything off to kill horde isn't such a bad thing, it does relieve a lot of stress.
It's funny because Adul isn't even geared or specc'ed for PvP. I built him for long fights and mana efficiency: slow and steady DPS. Despite my spec and gear being all wrong for it I dominated several games and rarely got under 3rd place.
The mage requires a very high degree of skill in WoW, He dies easily which means he has to constantly be moving around. However if your moving you can't cast your most powerful spells.
On top of that the recent hunter buff has taken away the one slim advantage we had over them. If an enemy ducks behind something and breaks your line of sight your spell fails.
Because of these and a million other factors a mage is easily one of the hardest and most reflex intense classes in the game. (I give rogues credit in this area as well.)
4 months ago I wouldn't have had the reflexes to do this, and my reflexes are still no where compared to what they once were. But tonight felt really good. WoW is a hobby, games are my hobby. But it feels incredible to start to reclaim this aspect of my life, because even (or especially) a hobby is worth doing the very best you can.
It's funny really, even though I was there for honor I didn't really care about getting more honor/wins. I just really enjoyed what I was doing. A lot of times people PvP to get better gear... for PvP but they don't enjoy it. It boggles my mind sometimes.
On a slightly related manner I'm getting everything gathered again to start work on my sorting. I got sick before I finished last time and I lost a lot of my progress. Most of my free time lately has been spent getting my WoW characters back to a playable level. It's really not the most productive use of my time but lately I haven't really cared. Maybe blowing everything off to kill horde isn't such a bad thing, it does relieve a lot of stress.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The 100th Post
Last post I talked about life being an open book. But I have to expand on that once more.
When I became ill I suffered what could be described as a psychotic break. It's a colorful word but not entirely accurate. Most of the time a psychotic break is used to describe Schizophrenia or other forms of psychosis. The part of the word that is accurate is a psychotic break is the event or first occurrence of psychosis. It literally means the psyche is broken.
A had years of study in the field of psychology not to mention a great deal of emotional and mental fortitude. but all that didn't matter. I saw it coming and could do nothing. It hovered at the fringe of my mind, at the moment I was most vulnerable and emotionally weak it struck.
It was a disease of the body but it most severely affected my mind. At the time I began to manifest symptoms of Schizophrenia (Delusions, hallucinations etc) which honestly scared me more then anything. I will not detail the events of that night, even now it's too personal... and painful for me to talk about. My entire life has been about fighting whatever enemy or challenge was before me. I spent that night in a struggle I had no idea how to fight until I became tired, then depressed and finally I gave up.
My personality changed, on the outside everything appeared normal. 95% of people didn't notice the difference. But I was very different. I was ruthless, uncaring and vicious to many people. I didn't feel warm or open towards anyone, I became extremely paranoid and aggressive. At work I became even more successful, my ruthlessness increased the money I made by almost three times as much. But the dark and ruthless did not get a free ride.
I felt as though my personality had been fragmented or shattered between a good and evil half.
In hindsight I came to believe that the split had to do with my deep held belief in duality. Surely the evil that existed within me had always existed there. But when the whole became two parts the evil side overpowered the good. It doesn't matter if it's true or not. What I believed made it so.
When the infection was removed and I recovered... I felt different. I had literally lost everything and everyone I cared about in this time. Only one person stayed with me the entire time, no matter what she was there and never gave up on me. Had she not stopped me I would not be alive today, or worse I would've completely lost myself in the confusion of my mind. The kind of loyalty and love she showed me cannot be expressed with words and for it she is greater to me then any hero past or present.
Even after my recovery three things have lingered, One thing that I have struggled with and mentioned to few. In addition to my migraines I have lingering flashbacks. Certain things, certain people trigger me to relive that terrifying and painful day. Although I am perfectly fine now the memory of it still strikes terror into me, I get a cold sweat and lock up. If it's a memory of pain my chest begins to ache and I feel as if I am about to burst into tears.
The second is the physical symptoms. The migraines I mentioned before. But shortly before the infection was removed I suffered temporary paralysis. I was unable to move my hands very much and at one point my left hand essentially became a vice-like claw. My reflexes have never fully required until just recently. Although I am not anywhere near my peak my reflexes have improved enough for micro heavy classes in WoW and I'm able to use my sword without possibility of further injury. This makes me happy to no end... if only I could get rid of the migraines now.
The last is one I spoken about in veiled comments. The loss of my spiritual self.
If there was one thing that brought me the most pain, it was the feeling of losing my soul.
When I was disposed towards evil I was filled with malice towards everyone, contempt and paranoia. I have to admit at times I even enjoyed the freedom of those emotions without guilt. (Although the guilt that followed pretty much ruined even that.) But all they did was mask the fact that the core of what I was simply ceased to exist. I know the moment, the action that caused me to walk away from my beliefs. Had I not done that I would've had another shield, another layer of defense against the corrosion of those times. But I was desperate to make myself whole, I reached out to people and they rejected me. One person made me feel better and I was willing to throw away everything I believed in to win her affection. But it didn't work. She was terrified of me and rejected me out of hand.
I did something then that I had never done before. I changed a deep part of myself for someone else. When I was younger I watched as women manipulated my father and used him for their own designs. I saw the power they had and vowed never to let it control me. Afterwards the things I had believed in didn't mean anything to me, they became just words: Honor, Balance, Self and Honesty. In the confusion I felt then I believed that another person could make me whole. But I had forgotten my own beliefs. That a person is a whole unto himself. No person can cure me or make me whole other then me.
The person I was then was destroyed because I made mistakes, because I was arrogant and shortsighted. I realized that I am a whole, filled with divisions and factions. That something that appears as one piece can in truth be many pieces working as one. My inability to recognize that nuance lead me to attack things that were not the problem. Although I will never again suffer that particular series of events the odds are good I will never completely heal from it either.
I have to say these things because if I do not drag them into the harsh light of day I can never be rid of them. I have too many immediate goals and problems to remain forever anchored in a past I cannot change. This will be the last I speak of the situation for awhile, I feel the writing has helped me me a lot... but the time has come to shift to the story of a reborn person and not a dying one.
When I became ill I suffered what could be described as a psychotic break. It's a colorful word but not entirely accurate. Most of the time a psychotic break is used to describe Schizophrenia or other forms of psychosis. The part of the word that is accurate is a psychotic break is the event or first occurrence of psychosis. It literally means the psyche is broken.
A had years of study in the field of psychology not to mention a great deal of emotional and mental fortitude. but all that didn't matter. I saw it coming and could do nothing. It hovered at the fringe of my mind, at the moment I was most vulnerable and emotionally weak it struck.
It was a disease of the body but it most severely affected my mind. At the time I began to manifest symptoms of Schizophrenia (Delusions, hallucinations etc) which honestly scared me more then anything. I will not detail the events of that night, even now it's too personal... and painful for me to talk about. My entire life has been about fighting whatever enemy or challenge was before me. I spent that night in a struggle I had no idea how to fight until I became tired, then depressed and finally I gave up.
My personality changed, on the outside everything appeared normal. 95% of people didn't notice the difference. But I was very different. I was ruthless, uncaring and vicious to many people. I didn't feel warm or open towards anyone, I became extremely paranoid and aggressive. At work I became even more successful, my ruthlessness increased the money I made by almost three times as much. But the dark and ruthless did not get a free ride.
I felt as though my personality had been fragmented or shattered between a good and evil half.
In hindsight I came to believe that the split had to do with my deep held belief in duality. Surely the evil that existed within me had always existed there. But when the whole became two parts the evil side overpowered the good. It doesn't matter if it's true or not. What I believed made it so.
When the infection was removed and I recovered... I felt different. I had literally lost everything and everyone I cared about in this time. Only one person stayed with me the entire time, no matter what she was there and never gave up on me. Had she not stopped me I would not be alive today, or worse I would've completely lost myself in the confusion of my mind. The kind of loyalty and love she showed me cannot be expressed with words and for it she is greater to me then any hero past or present.
Even after my recovery three things have lingered, One thing that I have struggled with and mentioned to few. In addition to my migraines I have lingering flashbacks. Certain things, certain people trigger me to relive that terrifying and painful day. Although I am perfectly fine now the memory of it still strikes terror into me, I get a cold sweat and lock up. If it's a memory of pain my chest begins to ache and I feel as if I am about to burst into tears.
The second is the physical symptoms. The migraines I mentioned before. But shortly before the infection was removed I suffered temporary paralysis. I was unable to move my hands very much and at one point my left hand essentially became a vice-like claw. My reflexes have never fully required until just recently. Although I am not anywhere near my peak my reflexes have improved enough for micro heavy classes in WoW and I'm able to use my sword without possibility of further injury. This makes me happy to no end... if only I could get rid of the migraines now.
The last is one I spoken about in veiled comments. The loss of my spiritual self.
If there was one thing that brought me the most pain, it was the feeling of losing my soul.
When I was disposed towards evil I was filled with malice towards everyone, contempt and paranoia. I have to admit at times I even enjoyed the freedom of those emotions without guilt. (Although the guilt that followed pretty much ruined even that.) But all they did was mask the fact that the core of what I was simply ceased to exist. I know the moment, the action that caused me to walk away from my beliefs. Had I not done that I would've had another shield, another layer of defense against the corrosion of those times. But I was desperate to make myself whole, I reached out to people and they rejected me. One person made me feel better and I was willing to throw away everything I believed in to win her affection. But it didn't work. She was terrified of me and rejected me out of hand.
I did something then that I had never done before. I changed a deep part of myself for someone else. When I was younger I watched as women manipulated my father and used him for their own designs. I saw the power they had and vowed never to let it control me. Afterwards the things I had believed in didn't mean anything to me, they became just words: Honor, Balance, Self and Honesty. In the confusion I felt then I believed that another person could make me whole. But I had forgotten my own beliefs. That a person is a whole unto himself. No person can cure me or make me whole other then me.
The person I was then was destroyed because I made mistakes, because I was arrogant and shortsighted. I realized that I am a whole, filled with divisions and factions. That something that appears as one piece can in truth be many pieces working as one. My inability to recognize that nuance lead me to attack things that were not the problem. Although I will never again suffer that particular series of events the odds are good I will never completely heal from it either.
I have to say these things because if I do not drag them into the harsh light of day I can never be rid of them. I have too many immediate goals and problems to remain forever anchored in a past I cannot change. This will be the last I speak of the situation for awhile, I feel the writing has helped me me a lot... but the time has come to shift to the story of a reborn person and not a dying one.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
An open book
One of the things I love about writing fiction is how impersonal I can be. It's essentially making things up and getting paid for it. I often find however that writing about myself, ideas or experiences I am filled with a sense of dread or loathing. Part of me has always been paranoid about opening up to people, a paranoia that has been enforced by a lifetime of verbal abuse and neglect.
At one point in my life I decided that I didn't like keeping everything inside, internalizing my pain didn't make it feel any better and it was hardly protection from someone who actually did want to hurt me. So I decided I would be an open book. I wouldn't hide or lie about myself or my beliefs. For a long time I felt better about myself for being honest and open. Although I do admit on occasion to violate my own policy, but mostly my life is/was an open book.
The troubles it has gotten me into are sometimes funny, and other times very very depressing.
I have missed so many opportunities in my life because I was unwilling to lie or compromise my personal ethics. It's particularly funny in regards to relationships. One time I fell in love with two girls. At the time I didn't know which I liked more and when they asked me that's what I told them. It hurt both of them and it blew up in my face.
Being an open book and having a code of ethics does not make me a fool however. In battle, competition and any other contest of wills a lie is a tactical move. It costs you honor and respect but if you have extra to spare then go for it. My rivals and enemies are more then willing to lie, I should be prepared to do the same.
After some of the things that have happened to me it's difficult to remain an open book. If I told some people how I felt it would destroy them, and they may even deserve it. But I don't want to be that kind of person. It is an uneasy balance between being open and not unleashing a flood of anger and assorted negative feelings. I have to accept that a lot of people abandoned me when things didn't look good, But I learned from it who I can really trust in the long run.
It's difficult to get closure with people when you cannot speak to them anymore. A catch-22 that the most dangerous hurtful elements in life must be faced head on. If you do not face them head on they fester inside you forever like a disease.
I say these things because there were moments I was weak.
I forgot about my honor, I forgot about the condition of my soul and sank into an emo-filled pit of apathy. A lack of honesty about my condition and feelings drove me into it too. If I had told people something was wrong I may have been able to avert it, or at least prepare them for it when it came. I was ashamed and I concealed it. It wasn't until I stood on the brink between life and death that I was able to admit to anyone... especially myself that I did not have control.
Someday I will be able to talk about the things that happened, and the things that I felt... and still feel. But for the moment it's too dangerous, a special exemption to the open-book policy in my life. There are some people I can talk to, very special trusted people in the meantime. And someday I will be able to write about it here.
I have to air these things. To show my shame and weakness because I don't want them to be my shame and weakness forever. I'm starting to awaken, not just to who I was but to who I should be.
At one point in my life I decided that I didn't like keeping everything inside, internalizing my pain didn't make it feel any better and it was hardly protection from someone who actually did want to hurt me. So I decided I would be an open book. I wouldn't hide or lie about myself or my beliefs. For a long time I felt better about myself for being honest and open. Although I do admit on occasion to violate my own policy, but mostly my life is/was an open book.
The troubles it has gotten me into are sometimes funny, and other times very very depressing.
I have missed so many opportunities in my life because I was unwilling to lie or compromise my personal ethics. It's particularly funny in regards to relationships. One time I fell in love with two girls. At the time I didn't know which I liked more and when they asked me that's what I told them. It hurt both of them and it blew up in my face.
Being an open book and having a code of ethics does not make me a fool however. In battle, competition and any other contest of wills a lie is a tactical move. It costs you honor and respect but if you have extra to spare then go for it. My rivals and enemies are more then willing to lie, I should be prepared to do the same.
After some of the things that have happened to me it's difficult to remain an open book. If I told some people how I felt it would destroy them, and they may even deserve it. But I don't want to be that kind of person. It is an uneasy balance between being open and not unleashing a flood of anger and assorted negative feelings. I have to accept that a lot of people abandoned me when things didn't look good, But I learned from it who I can really trust in the long run.
It's difficult to get closure with people when you cannot speak to them anymore. A catch-22 that the most dangerous hurtful elements in life must be faced head on. If you do not face them head on they fester inside you forever like a disease.
I say these things because there were moments I was weak.
I forgot about my honor, I forgot about the condition of my soul and sank into an emo-filled pit of apathy. A lack of honesty about my condition and feelings drove me into it too. If I had told people something was wrong I may have been able to avert it, or at least prepare them for it when it came. I was ashamed and I concealed it. It wasn't until I stood on the brink between life and death that I was able to admit to anyone... especially myself that I did not have control.
Someday I will be able to talk about the things that happened, and the things that I felt... and still feel. But for the moment it's too dangerous, a special exemption to the open-book policy in my life. There are some people I can talk to, very special trusted people in the meantime. And someday I will be able to write about it here.
I have to air these things. To show my shame and weakness because I don't want them to be my shame and weakness forever. I'm starting to awaken, not just to who I was but to who I should be.
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