Latoeb

“ It could be said, of course, the first was strong, a driving force. With courage, steel, in triumph loud, his drive to make his father proud. The second son enjoyed his drink, it left him time enough to think. And on the day of the Collapse, he took one of his famous naps. The third knew how to hold his breath, for he knew secrets, love and death. Alas he never spoke on this, he never told of things amiss. The prince with designation four, exhaled no cry, but monstrous roar. Not ivory or ebony, no lineage to Sun, it never could be heir or son. The final time the queen gave life, a being of eternal strife. The queen brought forth a one undone, it’s only name was None. ” — Corvo Telgasa, Ambassador of the Golden Proletariat

Asphalt gave way to gravel, and gravel to dirt in a matter of seconds. City lights and the sun in tandem illuminated the low clouds enough to see the pine tree silhouettes in the thirty foot span between us and the highway. The two-door sedan steeped in winter's breath, while we sat idling in the driveway. Two stories raged with low efficiency dull electric lights. Highway noise couldn't fit between the pine needles, instead we heard a dull commotion, our breathing, and hair metal on the sound system. Brambles sprawled and flowed across the ground, all but suffocating them. A capsized basketball hoop lay pointing towards the corner of the house, downhill from the highway and almost entirely ensnared by blackberries. It didn't fall from a place that you could play from. Where was it before? This vortex of lack, slacking and depravity made my ingenuity, curiosity, and my very drive, fear for its existence. From the future: Gasp! my privilege!

 When you ask a gamer about their favorite game, undoubtedly his eyes will glisten, and his voice will soften as he becomes enveloped with nostalgia about an earlier version of a once great franchise.  I have seen the climb and decline of several multiplayer games over the course of time. All too often I have heard of a game that sounds like a great concept, and it is released with extremes in its design. The community takes them and runs in every direction while the developers sit back and say, "Woah, we didn't see that coming." They take notes and return to the drawing board, and with a sequel or patch they take all of the quirks that players found into account and start making their product, into a Game.  My capitalization is intentional, and I will explain myself after a trip down memory lane. Veteran fans of the Tribes series will hurriedly shake their fists and discount Tribes:Vengeance and Ascend. They would tell you that the games lost something along the way....

I am not an economist. That said, in the movie Looper starring Bruce Willis and Joseph Gordon Levitt, there is an interesting play to consider. People in the future, are sending gold to the past. This would make gold in the future, more scarce. For a time, there will be two pieces of the same gold existing at the same time. For people employed as Loopers this really sucks cause the price of gold will be going down noticeably. This would probably have to happen on a much larger scale to be substantial, but as far as downtrodden time travelers go, these guys get the short end of the stick. They get paid in gold that becomes worthless.  If you began your contract significantly later, you could close your loop just before they start closing loops, and experience your gold being worth more. Being the first Looper to close his loop would suck, but being a thirty years in would be great from a financial standpoint. You would effectively sliding your A and B points down the timelin...

This is an amalgamations of various chat logs used to create an experience for my players. So, Hajar the SwordSage and Mor'ahg the Dragon Shaman, are rushed into a clunky combat not knowing who the other was. Their introduction is rolling for initiative. They yell at one another and kinda figure they are on the same side. Mor'ahg travels with his father, trading glassware. Shadow bandits assaulted their cart, using Hajar as bait, and every bandit they struck down, their lieutenant resurrected, filled with black smoke. Mor'ahg's father got in a contested breath grapple, screaming his dragons fire into the column of dark smoke that one of the smoking dead yelled back at him. you break his leg and he goes down, but keeps screaming a column of liquid death towards your father. your father is in a breath grapple //d20+5 latoeb rolled  1d20; result: 13   +5 Sum: 18 //d20+4  latoeb rolled  1d20; result: 20   +4 Sum: 24 Your father's chest heaves, ...

How hard would it be to add parking places to a parking lot. The most present difficulty I could imagine would be making the paint appear faded enough. This could be accomplished with a lighter tint of yellow, or by laying down sand and twigs to make cracks and the like appear, an illusion of weather and time. Character progression is the evolving how throughout the story being told. Gaming has found popular Hows over time, guns, swords, sprinting, and chest high walls. Making the how interact with the story is what I am currently grappling with as a DM while people make up their own classes. Having seeds of plot that weave everyone together in vastly complex and deep ways makes all their interpersonal decisions seem far more important. The son of the Steward to the Deep Below approached the last son of Gallen, who struck the Bell that Rang Once, and asked to borrow his handkerchief. The people in my campaign get to grapple with these huge primordial forces, knowing that they...