I downloaded and played The Pitt this past weekend. In general, I enjoyed it. Even more than I did the first DLC for Fallout 3, Operation: Anchorage. But in both cases, I think the downloads are overpriced for the amount of content they provide. If a consumer buys both expansions for $20, that's roughly a third a cost of the original game but not even close to a third of the content. I think it took me longer to play through The Pitt, but it still went very fast. No more than four hours I guesstimate. That's a stark difference from the original's deep and substantial offering.
Yes, yes, $10 for four hours is a good value, you pay that much for a two hour movie, not including the popcorn and babysitter, blah, blah, blah. I just can't subscribe to that argument here, mostly because I'm not comparing the expansion to an evening at the movie theater, but to the game itself. And the bottom line is I kinda feel shortchanged by Bethesda at a $10 price point.
The next expansion promises to raise the level cap to 30, but despite the prospect of more leveling fun, I may not pick it up. At least not before first verifying it offers some weighty gameplay.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Firefox
I had to update iTunes the other day, a simple enough endeavor if not for the fact that Internet Explorer was rendered completely FUBAR'd after the patch. I have no idea what iTunes might have to do with IE, but I could not get Microsoft's browser to open links beyond a bookmarked site. Neither could I open the brower's preference link to further tinker. By way of Microsoft's surprisingly robust customer support knowledge base, I discovered a back door into IE's preference settings and the much needed factory reset that fixed my problem, but wiped out my cookies and bookmarks. It took me long enough to figure out the fix, I downloaded and tried out Firefox by way of retribution.
And now I'm almost exclusively using Mozilla's browser. I got some interface adjusting to do, but I already like some of the small things Firefox does differently, like password prompts and history bookmarks. Unless Firefox goes completely batshit on me, I'll likely make a new friend of it. I was almost livid with rage when IE busted on me (mixed with a generous helping of panic at being disconnected from the Internet), but perhaps it lead me to a better product.
And now I'm almost exclusively using Mozilla's browser. I got some interface adjusting to do, but I already like some of the small things Firefox does differently, like password prompts and history bookmarks. Unless Firefox goes completely batshit on me, I'll likely make a new friend of it. I was almost livid with rage when IE busted on me (mixed with a generous helping of panic at being disconnected from the Internet), but perhaps it lead me to a better product.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
W.
Wifezilla and I watched Oliver Stone's W. the other night and both of us liked it. If you're a fan of Bush, you probably won't be a fan of this movie, but that's only about 20% of people polled, so chances are W. will appeal to a broad audience.
Unlike other Stone movies, like JFK, W. does not reek of conspiracy and paranoia. I wouldn't say its historically accurate by any means, but the movie does seem to take a good stab at guessing what some of the behind-closed-doors meetings of Bush and his cabinet were like.
Josh Brolin was simply outstanding as George Bush. His performance reminds me of how well Joaquin Phoenix nailed Johnny Cash in Walk the Line. Scene after scene, I was amazed at how well Brolin captured Bush's mannerisms and cadence. Especially impressive is how he avoided a parody of the president; there's a clear distinction between Brolin's Bush and that of Will Farrell's.
Still, not all the performances were as good. Wifezilla didn't like Dreyfuss' Dick Cheney and we both hated Thandie Newton as Condaleezza Rice. I had no problem with Stone spinning Rice as Bush's toadying sycophant, but Newton spoke with a nasally, Urkel-esque voice that effectively destroyed entire scenes. I can't believe Stone let her play the character that way. If her character were in more of the movie, she may have single-handedly ruined it.
By the end of the movie, when Brolin's Bush struggles to answer a reporter's question as to what mistakes he has made during his presidency, I don't loath Bush anymore. I pity him. Stone obviously doesn't like Bush, and paints the man's presidency as a failure. Even so, Stone suspects that Bush realizes his cabinet conspired to lead him into a war he should have never started. I was painful to watch Bush grill Cheney and Rumsfield and Powell, almost berating them as to the location of the WMDs. Bush asks them the same question the rest of America asks later: how could CIA and NSA intel be so wrong?
Most likely because those agencies were telling the powers-that-be what they wanted to hear. For that, Bush deserves full blame for the Iraq war, despite any regrets he may have that he can't share publically. I blame him, but W. helps me understand how it all could have gone down and imagine a circumstance where Bush might not have ended up as one of the worst presidents the United States ever had.
Unlike other Stone movies, like JFK, W. does not reek of conspiracy and paranoia. I wouldn't say its historically accurate by any means, but the movie does seem to take a good stab at guessing what some of the behind-closed-doors meetings of Bush and his cabinet were like.
Josh Brolin was simply outstanding as George Bush. His performance reminds me of how well Joaquin Phoenix nailed Johnny Cash in Walk the Line. Scene after scene, I was amazed at how well Brolin captured Bush's mannerisms and cadence. Especially impressive is how he avoided a parody of the president; there's a clear distinction between Brolin's Bush and that of Will Farrell's.
Still, not all the performances were as good. Wifezilla didn't like Dreyfuss' Dick Cheney and we both hated Thandie Newton as Condaleezza Rice. I had no problem with Stone spinning Rice as Bush's toadying sycophant, but Newton spoke with a nasally, Urkel-esque voice that effectively destroyed entire scenes. I can't believe Stone let her play the character that way. If her character were in more of the movie, she may have single-handedly ruined it.
By the end of the movie, when Brolin's Bush struggles to answer a reporter's question as to what mistakes he has made during his presidency, I don't loath Bush anymore. I pity him. Stone obviously doesn't like Bush, and paints the man's presidency as a failure. Even so, Stone suspects that Bush realizes his cabinet conspired to lead him into a war he should have never started. I was painful to watch Bush grill Cheney and Rumsfield and Powell, almost berating them as to the location of the WMDs. Bush asks them the same question the rest of America asks later: how could CIA and NSA intel be so wrong?
Most likely because those agencies were telling the powers-that-be what they wanted to hear. For that, Bush deserves full blame for the Iraq war, despite any regrets he may have that he can't share publically. I blame him, but W. helps me understand how it all could have gone down and imagine a circumstance where Bush might not have ended up as one of the worst presidents the United States ever had.
Role-playing Log, Rend-Fol, March 29, 2009
Summary:
Coming off a titanic fight against a two-story tall monster bug, Rend-fol began the night's session watching other party members rush to aid the town's wounded and shore up damaged structures. He declined all requests to provide aid, including Quinn's attempts to drag the Behemoth bug into the town square for burning. After resting for the night, the party awakened the next morning and assembled, striking out for Na'ral's nest. Along the way, a horde of gibberlings attacked. The party dispatched the swarms, arriving at Na'ral's nest the following afternoon.
Role-playing Quantity: Medium
Numerous opportunities to role-play throughout the night's session, especially at the beginning and during the journey to Na'ral's nest.
Role-playing Quality: Low
But Rend didn't take good advantage of aforementioned opportunities. Playing an aloof dick makes for difficult role-playing because an aloof dick's default is to . . . do nothing! Which Rend did well throughout the night. True, it was consistent with his character to refuse to aid the wounded and dying, but I don't want his morality completely dictated by his inactions. His role-playing improved later in the session when he questioned a new addition to the party, Kane. But for the most part, I had Rend rely too much on the aloof, despondent archetype. Apathy leads to morose gameplay.
For the next session, I'm going to try and find a way to get Rend attached to his new party. Maybe from mutual respect, the idea that Rend has found adventures equal to him in skill and aptitude. He respects power and rarely confronts those that are his equal or better. If he's invested in the party (or a few member inside it), I can let his aloofness fade somewhat. He'll still be primarily motivated by coin or power, but I'll make him a bit more likely to do something the party asks him to do.
Coming off a titanic fight against a two-story tall monster bug, Rend-fol began the night's session watching other party members rush to aid the town's wounded and shore up damaged structures. He declined all requests to provide aid, including Quinn's attempts to drag the Behemoth bug into the town square for burning. After resting for the night, the party awakened the next morning and assembled, striking out for Na'ral's nest. Along the way, a horde of gibberlings attacked. The party dispatched the swarms, arriving at Na'ral's nest the following afternoon.
Role-playing Quantity: Medium
Numerous opportunities to role-play throughout the night's session, especially at the beginning and during the journey to Na'ral's nest.
Role-playing Quality: Low
But Rend didn't take good advantage of aforementioned opportunities. Playing an aloof dick makes for difficult role-playing because an aloof dick's default is to . . . do nothing! Which Rend did well throughout the night. True, it was consistent with his character to refuse to aid the wounded and dying, but I don't want his morality completely dictated by his inactions. His role-playing improved later in the session when he questioned a new addition to the party, Kane. But for the most part, I had Rend rely too much on the aloof, despondent archetype. Apathy leads to morose gameplay.
For the next session, I'm going to try and find a way to get Rend attached to his new party. Maybe from mutual respect, the idea that Rend has found adventures equal to him in skill and aptitude. He respects power and rarely confronts those that are his equal or better. If he's invested in the party (or a few member inside it), I can let his aloofness fade somewhat. He'll still be primarily motivated by coin or power, but I'll make him a bit more likely to do something the party asks him to do.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Modest Mouse
A friend turned me on to them and I'm glad he did. He lent me two of the band's albums, Good News for People Who Love Bad News and The Moon & Antarctica. Color me surprised when I recognized a track off Good News that I Rock Band drum to all the time, Float On.
I like the band so much, I recently picked up their latest album, We Were Dead Before the Ship Ever Sunk, a title I hope doesn't apply to the American citizenry and the current economic crisis.
I like the band so much, I recently picked up their latest album, We Were Dead Before the Ship Ever Sunk, a title I hope doesn't apply to the American citizenry and the current economic crisis.
Saved By the Hell
Last night, I dreamt I went out partying with the cast of Saved by the Bell. Well, not the entire cast, just the dudes: Zack, A.C., and Screech. At first I thought we were bar hopping, but we spent most of the dream in an arcade playing gun-toting video games. Towards the end of the dream, I glanced at my watch and realized I was late for Saturday night D&D. I told Zack I had to go (he drove), but somehow, somewhere, Zack got plastered and so I found myself stranded; I guess Zack had one Dr. Pepper too many.
Screech laughed and laughed at my predicament.
What I want to know is what in the hell is going on in my subconscious that I’m dreaming such things? When I told Wifezilla the dream this morning, she told me she was driving directly to the courthouse to file divorce papers.
Screech laughed and laughed at my predicament.
What I want to know is what in the hell is going on in my subconscious that I’m dreaming such things? When I told Wifezilla the dream this morning, she told me she was driving directly to the courthouse to file divorce papers.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Role-playing Workshop
I’ve been thinking about the approach I want to take with documenting the adventures of my D&D character, Rend-fol, and I’ve come up with an interesting tact. Each week, I’m going to summarize Rend’s most recent adventure. Nothing fancy, just a paragraph detailing what happened to Rend and his adventuring party, Str8 Rippin’.
Yes, the party’s name is Str8 Rippin’. Err, at least that’s my name for the party. If you asked anyone else in the group, you’d get a range of denials, everything from bemusement to contempt to weary resignation.
Anyway.
After I summarize Rend’s most recent exploits, I plan to break down Rend’s behavior that week. I envision it as a kind of role-playing synopsis, a method of tracking my character’s actions and attitudes and then comparing that to the background I wrote for Rend and the direction I want the character to go. Really, I see it as a kind of writer’s workshop, only focused on role-playing, a kind of critical analysis of how the session went in terms of Rend’s morality and decision making.
I’m really excited about this prospect because role-playing is a challenging endeavor. My hope is that if I am tracking and then analyzing Rend’s actions and attitudes, I can better track whether or not he’s in keeping with the idea I had for him in the first place.
Once the summary and the role-playing workshop are done, I’ll finish the week with any fan fiction I may have been inspired to write. I may or may not use session events as a basis for the fiction, but I definitely plan on changing names and classes of other players’ characters. I’ve even been toying with the idea of writing Rend’s prequel story, origin tales to fill out the barest of background frameworks I wrote for him.
This could be a bust because very often entire sessions are devoted to massive, hours long fights; there’s only so much role-playing anyone can do when a bullet has your head in its jaws, chewing enthusiastically. So I’m predicting that some weeks will be leaner than others.
Still, it’s worth a try
Yes, the party’s name is Str8 Rippin’. Err, at least that’s my name for the party. If you asked anyone else in the group, you’d get a range of denials, everything from bemusement to contempt to weary resignation.
Anyway.
After I summarize Rend’s most recent exploits, I plan to break down Rend’s behavior that week. I envision it as a kind of role-playing synopsis, a method of tracking my character’s actions and attitudes and then comparing that to the background I wrote for Rend and the direction I want the character to go. Really, I see it as a kind of writer’s workshop, only focused on role-playing, a kind of critical analysis of how the session went in terms of Rend’s morality and decision making.
I’m really excited about this prospect because role-playing is a challenging endeavor. My hope is that if I am tracking and then analyzing Rend’s actions and attitudes, I can better track whether or not he’s in keeping with the idea I had for him in the first place.
Once the summary and the role-playing workshop are done, I’ll finish the week with any fan fiction I may have been inspired to write. I may or may not use session events as a basis for the fiction, but I definitely plan on changing names and classes of other players’ characters. I’ve even been toying with the idea of writing Rend’s prequel story, origin tales to fill out the barest of background frameworks I wrote for him.
This could be a bust because very often entire sessions are devoted to massive, hours long fights; there’s only so much role-playing anyone can do when a bullet has your head in its jaws, chewing enthusiastically. So I’m predicting that some weeks will be leaner than others.
Still, it’s worth a try
Monday, March 23, 2009
Righting My Writing
As you've probably noticed, I've been writing noticeably less these past few months. A few key changes contribute to the tightening of my prose spigot. First and foremost, I had been doing a good chunk of the writing at work, mostly during lunch and whatnot, but sometimes not. Work has been kicking my ass as of late, and so the quantity diminished (I've opened myself up to a "quality" joke here, but I'll let you fill that in yourself). Within a week or so, I'm going to begin the first big steps of opening a brand new library, so discretionary time will not only disappear at work, but at home as well.
Another factor is that I had been writing my D&D group's weekly session summaries. Please, click the link and sally forth, especially if you enjoy inflicting bad fantasy writing on yourself. Based on a table-top role-playing game no less. I'll admit it, I had a lot of fun writing those summaries. It was fun distilling a night's worth of adventuring into seven or eight paragraphs. But over the long haul, it got tedious describing three hour long combat fights. Over time, you start to run out of ways to describe someone stabbing, decapitating, or eviscerating a fellow humanoid. And so towards the end, I shifted gears. I moved away from step-by-step accounting of how a fight went and moved more towards focusing on the story and filling in some gaps in-between.
I think that proved satisfying to me, but probably less so for my fellow players. Filling in blanks spots involved me taking artistic license with other people's characters and that leads to creativity and innovation, but also me just plain putting words and actions onto someone else's toon. Not so cool. Not so fair either.
For instance, Cedric the Wizard died the very last session we played with Craig as our Dungeon Master. Thinking about his death, I came up with an idea that I thought was hilarious: have the members grieve for Cedric ever so briefly and then proceed to discuss what a pain-in-the-ass it would be to try and get the poor slob back to town and resurrected. And then ultimately strip his body of loot and leave him lying in the middle of a dungeon floor. You can read the entire summary here, but what follows is the end:
Their foes dead, the party collapsed next to the still form of Cedric. Tears were shed. Sobs choked down. Finally, Gilic said, "Ack, he was good laddy. A wee bit chatty at times, but one of the good ones."
Gareth chuckled, "Yeah. Remember when he thought he could fly? He had to crawl across that blood chamber's ceiling like a hermit crab when it turned out he could only levitate."
The rest of the party laughed along with Gareth. A silence then came over them. Taegahn finally stood and said, "So, uh, what do we do with him now?"
When no one said anything, Shava responded, "We could take him back to Cormyr and perform a ritual to bring him back." Her idea seemed more a question then a statement.
The heroes glanced around at each other awkwardly. After a long time passed, Queequeg said, "I don't know, that seems like an awful lot of trouble. What with dragging the body back, storing the corpse, paying for the components. I heard the ritual only requires a thumb-sized piece of the person, but who wants that in their satchel for the next week?" The dragonborn's voice trailed off. No one said anything.
Gilic coughed uncomfortably. Orchid suddenly chimed in, "Say, didn't we meet a wizard in Seven-pillared Halls? That half-elf with the lazy eye and strange smell?"
Taegahn's face brightened. "Yeah, yeah. Babar, I think his name was. He asked if he could join up with us but we told him to piss off because, you know, we already had a wizard with a lazy eye and strange smell. Hey, do you think he's still there?"
Shava clapped her hands together happily and cheered, "Let's go see!" "To Seven Pillared Halls!" Gareth bellowed. Gilic grinned broadly, slapping the fighter on the back smartly.
And so, the Victors of Shadowfell Keep made ready to depart, but not before relieving Cedric of his notable gear and coinage. The heroes shuffled out of the chamber one at time, Queequeg the last. The dragonborn paused before exiting, turning back for a final look. Cedric, stripped down to his underwear, lay still and calm, seemingly sleeping but for the charred flesh and the blood trickling down from his nose and mouth.
"Uh, yeah," Queequeg intoned apologetically and then turned and left the labyrinth forever.
Ah, reading that again still cracks me up. But I did completely re-imagine the ending, which obviously didn't involve the party abandoning Credric's naked corpse in the middle of a dungeon. Which probably explains why Sean, the dude who played Cedric, was the only one that mentioned anything about the entry. I didn't summarize anything, just wrote an ending that cracked up one person: the author.
A few weeks earlier, I wrote an entirely invented scene inspired by the inane time-traveling nonsense going on in the current season of Lost. The whole thing was based on Craig, the Dungeon Master, momentarily forgetting that Uthlin never bought the crown the party had attained during their adventures. It was a good laugh at the session and it gave me the idea to write a summary where Uthlin hacks the party to death when they don't return the crown they "stole" from him. The summary is entitled "White Light," based on the space-time continuum returning to normal right before Uthlin is about to sink his axe into Cedric's head.
Ah, Lost, where would we be without your time-traveling hijinks. Watching good TV, that's where.
I mention both these entries because they highlight not just the transfer of my writing time and energy from this blog to the game's, but also the sheer joy I got from moving away from straight summaries and into retold tall tales. Which serves almost no utilitarian summary purpose and rivals the creative writing talent of a much sheltered junior high school student.
So I stopped writing those summaries too.
But I enjoy writing. And I enjoy twisting a base event into something I think is funny or ironic or tragic or a good, uneven mixture of all of those. So I think I'm going to shift my writing focus back to this blog. Not only that, I think I'm going to take the D&D toon I'm currently playing, Rend-fol, and write about him. I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to write about him. I'd like to chronicle his current adventures, but I want to shy away from characterizing other players' characters. My initial thought is to start with the adventures, make new names and classes for the other players, and then go from there. Maybe. I'm not sure yet.
Whatever approach I take, let me at least introduce Rend to you. "Bristol Watch Patrol" is the very last summary I wrote for the start of the new campaign we're currently playing. In it, I completely invented a confrontation between Rend and a fellow player's character, Rhogar. It won't take you long to conclude that Rend is a total asshat, which made writing the summary so fun and playing Rend so interesting. The summary is posted directly below this one. Enjoy.
Another factor is that I had been writing my D&D group's weekly session summaries. Please, click the link and sally forth, especially if you enjoy inflicting bad fantasy writing on yourself. Based on a table-top role-playing game no less. I'll admit it, I had a lot of fun writing those summaries. It was fun distilling a night's worth of adventuring into seven or eight paragraphs. But over the long haul, it got tedious describing three hour long combat fights. Over time, you start to run out of ways to describe someone stabbing, decapitating, or eviscerating a fellow humanoid. And so towards the end, I shifted gears. I moved away from step-by-step accounting of how a fight went and moved more towards focusing on the story and filling in some gaps in-between.
I think that proved satisfying to me, but probably less so for my fellow players. Filling in blanks spots involved me taking artistic license with other people's characters and that leads to creativity and innovation, but also me just plain putting words and actions onto someone else's toon. Not so cool. Not so fair either.
For instance, Cedric the Wizard died the very last session we played with Craig as our Dungeon Master. Thinking about his death, I came up with an idea that I thought was hilarious: have the members grieve for Cedric ever so briefly and then proceed to discuss what a pain-in-the-ass it would be to try and get the poor slob back to town and resurrected. And then ultimately strip his body of loot and leave him lying in the middle of a dungeon floor. You can read the entire summary here, but what follows is the end:
Their foes dead, the party collapsed next to the still form of Cedric. Tears were shed. Sobs choked down. Finally, Gilic said, "Ack, he was good laddy. A wee bit chatty at times, but one of the good ones."
Gareth chuckled, "Yeah. Remember when he thought he could fly? He had to crawl across that blood chamber's ceiling like a hermit crab when it turned out he could only levitate."
The rest of the party laughed along with Gareth. A silence then came over them. Taegahn finally stood and said, "So, uh, what do we do with him now?"
When no one said anything, Shava responded, "We could take him back to Cormyr and perform a ritual to bring him back." Her idea seemed more a question then a statement.
The heroes glanced around at each other awkwardly. After a long time passed, Queequeg said, "I don't know, that seems like an awful lot of trouble. What with dragging the body back, storing the corpse, paying for the components. I heard the ritual only requires a thumb-sized piece of the person, but who wants that in their satchel for the next week?" The dragonborn's voice trailed off. No one said anything.
Gilic coughed uncomfortably. Orchid suddenly chimed in, "Say, didn't we meet a wizard in Seven-pillared Halls? That half-elf with the lazy eye and strange smell?"
Taegahn's face brightened. "Yeah, yeah. Babar, I think his name was. He asked if he could join up with us but we told him to piss off because, you know, we already had a wizard with a lazy eye and strange smell. Hey, do you think he's still there?"
Shava clapped her hands together happily and cheered, "Let's go see!" "To Seven Pillared Halls!" Gareth bellowed. Gilic grinned broadly, slapping the fighter on the back smartly.
And so, the Victors of Shadowfell Keep made ready to depart, but not before relieving Cedric of his notable gear and coinage. The heroes shuffled out of the chamber one at time, Queequeg the last. The dragonborn paused before exiting, turning back for a final look. Cedric, stripped down to his underwear, lay still and calm, seemingly sleeping but for the charred flesh and the blood trickling down from his nose and mouth.
"Uh, yeah," Queequeg intoned apologetically and then turned and left the labyrinth forever.
Ah, reading that again still cracks me up. But I did completely re-imagine the ending, which obviously didn't involve the party abandoning Credric's naked corpse in the middle of a dungeon. Which probably explains why Sean, the dude who played Cedric, was the only one that mentioned anything about the entry. I didn't summarize anything, just wrote an ending that cracked up one person: the author.
A few weeks earlier, I wrote an entirely invented scene inspired by the inane time-traveling nonsense going on in the current season of Lost. The whole thing was based on Craig, the Dungeon Master, momentarily forgetting that Uthlin never bought the crown the party had attained during their adventures. It was a good laugh at the session and it gave me the idea to write a summary where Uthlin hacks the party to death when they don't return the crown they "stole" from him. The summary is entitled "White Light," based on the space-time continuum returning to normal right before Uthlin is about to sink his axe into Cedric's head.
Ah, Lost, where would we be without your time-traveling hijinks. Watching good TV, that's where.
I mention both these entries because they highlight not just the transfer of my writing time and energy from this blog to the game's, but also the sheer joy I got from moving away from straight summaries and into retold tall tales. Which serves almost no utilitarian summary purpose and rivals the creative writing talent of a much sheltered junior high school student.
So I stopped writing those summaries too.
But I enjoy writing. And I enjoy twisting a base event into something I think is funny or ironic or tragic or a good, uneven mixture of all of those. So I think I'm going to shift my writing focus back to this blog. Not only that, I think I'm going to take the D&D toon I'm currently playing, Rend-fol, and write about him. I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to write about him. I'd like to chronicle his current adventures, but I want to shy away from characterizing other players' characters. My initial thought is to start with the adventures, make new names and classes for the other players, and then go from there. Maybe. I'm not sure yet.
Whatever approach I take, let me at least introduce Rend to you. "Bristol Watch Patrol" is the very last summary I wrote for the start of the new campaign we're currently playing. In it, I completely invented a confrontation between Rend and a fellow player's character, Rhogar. It won't take you long to conclude that Rend is a total asshat, which made writing the summary so fun and playing Rend so interesting. The summary is posted directly below this one. Enjoy.
Bristol Watch Patrol
A bell tolled loudly through the bustling streets of Bristol Watch, an event more ominous than unusual. Inside the Bristol Watch Inn, Rend-fol heard the metallic chime and turned his head away from the bar to scan the crowd's reaction. Almost immediately, locals and new arrivals alike began murmuring as they put down drinks and forks and made for the door. Rend looked back at his new acquaintance, Rhogar, and asked, "A town summons? The people here don't seem surprised by the bell."
Rhogar took a long pull from his tankard, his scaled hide glistening in a rainbow of subdued hues. He paused for a moment, unleashed a terrific belch, and said, "No, they wouldn't be surprised. Hobgoblins frequently raid the surrounding farmlands. Cairth defends when he can, but we're talking large tracts of land here, none of it walled or fortified. Most likely, the bell rings to summon and organize the militia for patrols and defensive positions."
"Fight for this shit hole ? I'd advise pulling up stakes and following the shortest path to civilization," said Rend, smiling slightly.
"Stranger, that's the second time you've insulted my home. Do it again, and I'll test out how well my axe cuts through those wisps floating on the top of your noggin."
"I'm no lumberjack, but you look tall and thick. Maybe I should shout 'timber' so you don't fall and smother someone when I kill you."
The dragonborn set his tankard down on the bar and stood up, grasping the shaft of his great axe without even looking. Rhogar re-positioned it with both his massive paws, muscles flexing and rippling. He said nothing but took a combat stance, waiting. The bar was already clearing for the summons, but the crowd's pace quickened at the sight of the two armed men squaring off. From behind the bar, the inn keeper yelled, "Eh, Rhogar! You best be throwing this one back. I warn, you'll be payin' for the damages! Unlike last time!"
Rend's smile faded as he gazed darkly at Rhogar. His arms hung at his sides, his right fist alternately clenching and relaxing. The genasi took a quick glance around the now empty common room and then back at Rhogar. He seemed to be calculating something completely unrelated to the current confrontation. Finally, Rend turned his back to the dragonborn and strode out the bar in silence. Quinn nodded at the genasi as he walked out, but if Rend saw him, he gave no sign. Mikala leaned over to Quinn and remarked, "Nice social skills on that one." Quinn smiled and nodded, watching Rhogar lean his axe once more against the bar and grasp his tankard.
Outside, Rend saw what must have been the entire population of Bristol Watch converge at the Town Hall, a new building smelling of sap and pine. Mounted and waiting outside the doors of the Hall, Captain Cairth studied the flow of people with a tactical eye. Though most of the crowd were citizens of the small town, Rend noticed quite a few new arrivals, most of whom packed heavy weapons and armor with hardened countenances to boot. The genasi rearranged the sword strapped to his back and then walked confidently into the milling crowd until he was directly in front of the Captain.
"Captain," Rend called out, attempting to attract Cairth's attention. Cairth pretended to not hear, turning his head away and scanning the other side of the growing crowd. Irritated, Rend called out again, though this time more loudly. Cairth slowly turned his head back to Rend, his eyes narrowing.
"What." It was a statement, not a question.
"So what's going on?" Rend inquired.
Cairth eyed Rend for a moment, a flicker of recognition registering on his face. "You're that genasi that claimed Dirg Stiggler was most righteous in his beating of that farm boy. Said the hin had been cheated."
"Yeah, that's right." Rend crossed his arms over his chest and waited impertinently.
"Well son, I don't know how that kind of thing goes down where you're from, but around here, we don't take a pound a flesh for the smallest slights. You best keep that in mind for future encounters with my citizenry."
Before Rend could respond, the Captain clucked his tongue, lurching his horse forward into the crowd. When he got to the middle, he brought the horse to a halt and addressed the crowd in a commanding voice. "We've got hobgoblin raids up and down our farmlands. Looting, pillaging, even few reports of deaths. Sloan here brought the bodies of the Haskins family this past hour. I hope those to be the only casualties, but my gut tells me there'll be more. We'll be forming up militia patrols throughout the rest of the day and tonight. Lighter forces will walk the first part, and we'll save our strongest forces for the night, when the hobs are more active. I'll be expectin' every able bodied citizen to do his part. Bring what weapons you have, mounts too if you got them. New visitors to Bristol Watch, you aren't obligated to fight, but we'll pay you if you do. Rhogar! Galinndan!"
The Captain scanned the crowd until he spotted the dragonborn's head towering well over everyone else. "Ah, Rhogar, you're a difficult man to spot, what with that delicate profile you cut." The crowd laughed and Cairth continued. "Rhogar, I want you and Galinndan to manage visitor recruitment."
Rhogar nodded, effortlessly heaving his axe on his shoulder. Another man appeared next to him, a blacksmith by attire, and said, "It will be done."
Cairth nodded in approval and said, "For the rest that aren't fighting or patrolling, I'm declaring martial law. I want the inn and businesses closed and the citizenry to stay in their homes. The Town Hall is reserved for the refugees of the surrounding farmlands. That is all."
Cairth reared his horse back and cantered back to the Town Hall. He dismounted and immediately began issuing orders. The crowd immediately dispersed, some heading home to cower fearfully in their homes, others grimly checking equipment and swinging weapons.
Rhogar took a long pull from his tankard, his scaled hide glistening in a rainbow of subdued hues. He paused for a moment, unleashed a terrific belch, and said, "No, they wouldn't be surprised. Hobgoblins frequently raid the surrounding farmlands. Cairth defends when he can, but we're talking large tracts of land here, none of it walled or fortified. Most likely, the bell rings to summon and organize the militia for patrols and defensive positions."
"Fight for this shit hole ? I'd advise pulling up stakes and following the shortest path to civilization," said Rend, smiling slightly.
"Stranger, that's the second time you've insulted my home. Do it again, and I'll test out how well my axe cuts through those wisps floating on the top of your noggin."
"I'm no lumberjack, but you look tall and thick. Maybe I should shout 'timber' so you don't fall and smother someone when I kill you."
The dragonborn set his tankard down on the bar and stood up, grasping the shaft of his great axe without even looking. Rhogar re-positioned it with both his massive paws, muscles flexing and rippling. He said nothing but took a combat stance, waiting. The bar was already clearing for the summons, but the crowd's pace quickened at the sight of the two armed men squaring off. From behind the bar, the inn keeper yelled, "Eh, Rhogar! You best be throwing this one back. I warn, you'll be payin' for the damages! Unlike last time!"
Rend's smile faded as he gazed darkly at Rhogar. His arms hung at his sides, his right fist alternately clenching and relaxing. The genasi took a quick glance around the now empty common room and then back at Rhogar. He seemed to be calculating something completely unrelated to the current confrontation. Finally, Rend turned his back to the dragonborn and strode out the bar in silence. Quinn nodded at the genasi as he walked out, but if Rend saw him, he gave no sign. Mikala leaned over to Quinn and remarked, "Nice social skills on that one." Quinn smiled and nodded, watching Rhogar lean his axe once more against the bar and grasp his tankard.
Outside, Rend saw what must have been the entire population of Bristol Watch converge at the Town Hall, a new building smelling of sap and pine. Mounted and waiting outside the doors of the Hall, Captain Cairth studied the flow of people with a tactical eye. Though most of the crowd were citizens of the small town, Rend noticed quite a few new arrivals, most of whom packed heavy weapons and armor with hardened countenances to boot. The genasi rearranged the sword strapped to his back and then walked confidently into the milling crowd until he was directly in front of the Captain.
"Captain," Rend called out, attempting to attract Cairth's attention. Cairth pretended to not hear, turning his head away and scanning the other side of the growing crowd. Irritated, Rend called out again, though this time more loudly. Cairth slowly turned his head back to Rend, his eyes narrowing.
"What." It was a statement, not a question.
"So what's going on?" Rend inquired.
Cairth eyed Rend for a moment, a flicker of recognition registering on his face. "You're that genasi that claimed Dirg Stiggler was most righteous in his beating of that farm boy. Said the hin had been cheated."
"Yeah, that's right." Rend crossed his arms over his chest and waited impertinently.
"Well son, I don't know how that kind of thing goes down where you're from, but around here, we don't take a pound a flesh for the smallest slights. You best keep that in mind for future encounters with my citizenry."
Before Rend could respond, the Captain clucked his tongue, lurching his horse forward into the crowd. When he got to the middle, he brought the horse to a halt and addressed the crowd in a commanding voice. "We've got hobgoblin raids up and down our farmlands. Looting, pillaging, even few reports of deaths. Sloan here brought the bodies of the Haskins family this past hour. I hope those to be the only casualties, but my gut tells me there'll be more. We'll be forming up militia patrols throughout the rest of the day and tonight. Lighter forces will walk the first part, and we'll save our strongest forces for the night, when the hobs are more active. I'll be expectin' every able bodied citizen to do his part. Bring what weapons you have, mounts too if you got them. New visitors to Bristol Watch, you aren't obligated to fight, but we'll pay you if you do. Rhogar! Galinndan!"
The Captain scanned the crowd until he spotted the dragonborn's head towering well over everyone else. "Ah, Rhogar, you're a difficult man to spot, what with that delicate profile you cut." The crowd laughed and Cairth continued. "Rhogar, I want you and Galinndan to manage visitor recruitment."
Rhogar nodded, effortlessly heaving his axe on his shoulder. Another man appeared next to him, a blacksmith by attire, and said, "It will be done."
Cairth nodded in approval and said, "For the rest that aren't fighting or patrolling, I'm declaring martial law. I want the inn and businesses closed and the citizenry to stay in their homes. The Town Hall is reserved for the refugees of the surrounding farmlands. That is all."
Cairth reared his horse back and cantered back to the Town Hall. He dismounted and immediately began issuing orders. The crowd immediately dispersed, some heading home to cower fearfully in their homes, others grimly checking equipment and swinging weapons.
Have Mountain Goat, Will Travel
Lukenbach made great strides this past weekend. My dwarf minstrel not only blew past level 58, well on his way to 59, he also accrued enough miner reputation to get the entry level Moria mount, the Red-horned mountain goat. It's slower than U.S. economic recovery, but still faster than walking. The next goat travels as fast as a normal horse, but takes the top miner reputation, kindred, so I won't see that goodly beast for a long time.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Lukenbach, Post Book 7
I took my minstrel, Lukenbach, for a spin this morning and indeed he benefits greatly from LotRO's most recent patch. I was most pleased to find that Turbine switched Call of Fate from a level 60 skill to 56, making Lukenbach an instant qualifier. Call of Fate is a more robust version of Piercing cry, with high crit potential and the highest raw damage in a minstrel's arsenal.
So after training the Call of Fate, I took Lukenbach down to Gazatu-ru, the scene of much fleeing and death before Book 7. Deep in the central halls of Moria, Gazatu-ru crams mobs within feet of each other. Smart pulls are a must, without which soloing is impossible. Lukenbach needed to kill eighteen orcs in Gazatu-ru and before Book 7, he couldn't do it. Most pulls involve two mobs and frequently incur a third patroller. And as tight as space is in Moria, fleeing almost never succeeded.
This time around, however, Lukenbach easily dispatched two mobs at time. He even fended off ganks of a third mob, though often just barely. This patch bodes well, I think, for my bard. Couple that with the easement of xp restrictions and I'm getting even more inspired to level up Kammris and then work on my hobbit warden, Smaur.
So after training the Call of Fate, I took Lukenbach down to Gazatu-ru, the scene of much fleeing and death before Book 7. Deep in the central halls of Moria, Gazatu-ru crams mobs within feet of each other. Smart pulls are a must, without which soloing is impossible. Lukenbach needed to kill eighteen orcs in Gazatu-ru and before Book 7, he couldn't do it. Most pulls involve two mobs and frequently incur a third patroller. And as tight as space is in Moria, fleeing almost never succeeded.
This time around, however, Lukenbach easily dispatched two mobs at time. He even fended off ganks of a third mob, though often just barely. This patch bodes well, I think, for my bard. Couple that with the easement of xp restrictions and I'm getting even more inspired to level up Kammris and then work on my hobbit warden, Smaur.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Dawn of War: Gold Edition
I've been having so much fun with Dawn of War II, I fired up Steam and tried out the demos to the original, Dawn of War. They turned out to be even more fun, so much so I bought the gold edition. I've never made a Steam purchase before, but the experience was a good one. What I like most about the service is that once you purchase the game, its key is permanently linked to your Steam account. If you uninstall the game, you want always download and install it again later. It also means you can download and play the game on another computer.
I always think of myself as the type of person that needs that physical copy in my grubby little hands. But as less and less shelf space is devoted to PC gaming, it could be that digital purchasing may turn into the only viable method for distributing PC games. At first glance, that seems a shame. But with a service as good and dependable as Steam, perhaps it's not.
I always think of myself as the type of person that needs that physical copy in my grubby little hands. But as less and less shelf space is devoted to PC gaming, it could be that digital purchasing may turn into the only viable method for distributing PC games. At first glance, that seems a shame. But with a service as good and dependable as Steam, perhaps it's not.
Level Up!
Turbine released Book 7 for Lord of the Rings Online this past Tuesday. Following Blizzard's lead in WoW, Turbine changed the experience requirements for leveling in this latest patch. As a result, my lower level toons saw a 2-3 level increase when I logged in. Kammris and Lukenbach both earned only 1 level, but both are more of the way towards the next.
A brief scan of the boards tells me that hunters got nerfed. The fix is receiving mixed reviews, with a surprising number of hunter players applauding the change, flat-out admitting their toons were over-powered.
It will be interesting to see how Lukenbach, my minstrel plays after the patch. To be perfectly honest, I stopped playing him for a time because the Mines are freaking brutal. It's really tough to soloing stuff, even more so as a minstrel. And forget about trying to take on more than one mob at a time; space is so tight in the Mines, one almost invariably draws unwanted mobs, leading to frequent fleeing or death.
A brief scan of the boards tells me that hunters got nerfed. The fix is receiving mixed reviews, with a surprising number of hunter players applauding the change, flat-out admitting their toons were over-powered.
It will be interesting to see how Lukenbach, my minstrel plays after the patch. To be perfectly honest, I stopped playing him for a time because the Mines are freaking brutal. It's really tough to soloing stuff, even more so as a minstrel. And forget about trying to take on more than one mob at a time; space is so tight in the Mines, one almost invariably draws unwanted mobs, leading to frequent fleeing or death.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Interpol Working on 4th Album
As per their very own site, Interpol has reassembled and in their own words, "rehearsing new songs."
Thanks to Rock Band, I thoroughly discovered Interpol and wait with giddy anticipation for their next album.
Thanks to Rock Band, I thoroughly discovered Interpol and wait with giddy anticipation for their next album.
Trip the Light Fantastic
So we changed up Dungeon Masters a couple of weeks ago. Two players competed violently for the right to manage the game's dungeons and dragons. Round one involved arm wrestling, but the two pasty contestants' muscles proved too atrophied to produce a winner. Round two moved on to naked pudding wrestling, chocolate and vanilla swirl. The match had no more begun than the spectators began retching uncontrollably. As a result, a tie was called and both declared Dungeon Master.
Blake, the first of the two to take the reins, runs a business selling . . . crap on Ebay. Yes, much like that chick on The 40 Year Old Virgin. I remind him of this often. Surprisingly, he fails to see the humor in it. At any rate, via the business he runs, Blake bought an entire palette of ancient LCD projectors for $5. Each one must weigh at least 500 pounds and comes with feature (instead of features). Last session, Blake mounted it on the ceiling of the room we game and then proceeded to project some sweet-ass game maps for us run around and kill shit. Beats the hell out of ten-minute Sharpie scrawling. Err, except, the projector dates back to the 20th century and thus retains the lumen power of my desk lamp. Forcing us to turn out all the lights.
I think I may have been sexually assaulted at that last session, but wouldn't be able to identify my attacker if my life depended on it.
Blake, the first of the two to take the reins, runs a business selling . . . crap on Ebay. Yes, much like that chick on The 40 Year Old Virgin. I remind him of this often. Surprisingly, he fails to see the humor in it. At any rate, via the business he runs, Blake bought an entire palette of ancient LCD projectors for $5. Each one must weigh at least 500 pounds and comes with feature (instead of features). Last session, Blake mounted it on the ceiling of the room we game and then proceeded to project some sweet-ass game maps for us run around and kill shit. Beats the hell out of ten-minute Sharpie scrawling. Err, except, the projector dates back to the 20th century and thus retains the lumen power of my desk lamp. Forcing us to turn out all the lights.
I think I may have been sexually assaulted at that last session, but wouldn't be able to identify my attacker if my life depended on it.
Dawn of War II
I picked up the latest Warhammer RTS because I'm a glutton for punishment. It's a well-documented character flaw that I like playing real-time strategy games, they just don't like me playing them.
A slew of critical reviews perked my interest in this latest installment. Gamespot in particular mentions numerous times that the game's single player campaign plays more like an action RPG than a RTS, right down to looting gear off conquered mobs. I know GS meant that as a criticism, but I took it as a selling point. As much as I enjoy building a base, upgrading units, and then churning them out like gummy bears in a candy factoring, I never strike a good balance between the building aspect of the game and the part where you steer your army towards an opponent and kick some ass. I always mobilize too soon or too late, mostly erring towards the latter. I think it's a patience thing. I have enough to painstakingly build a base, but not enough to coordinate that with strategic and tactical real-time combat.
But DoW II seemed a departure. There's no base building in the campaign, only squads and a main hero unit. And Gamespot is right, the single player aspect plays almost like Diablo, except a bit more tactical. Launching all your squads headlong into battle sometimes (but not always) leads to swift slaughter. So I'm enjoying the game so far and getting my RTS fix to boot. I guess this means I might thing about picking up Starcraft II, rumored to be coming out sometime in June.
A slew of critical reviews perked my interest in this latest installment. Gamespot in particular mentions numerous times that the game's single player campaign plays more like an action RPG than a RTS, right down to looting gear off conquered mobs. I know GS meant that as a criticism, but I took it as a selling point. As much as I enjoy building a base, upgrading units, and then churning them out like gummy bears in a candy factoring, I never strike a good balance between the building aspect of the game and the part where you steer your army towards an opponent and kick some ass. I always mobilize too soon or too late, mostly erring towards the latter. I think it's a patience thing. I have enough to painstakingly build a base, but not enough to coordinate that with strategic and tactical real-time combat.
But DoW II seemed a departure. There's no base building in the campaign, only squads and a main hero unit. And Gamespot is right, the single player aspect plays almost like Diablo, except a bit more tactical. Launching all your squads headlong into battle sometimes (but not always) leads to swift slaughter. So I'm enjoying the game so far and getting my RTS fix to boot. I guess this means I might thing about picking up Starcraft II, rumored to be coming out sometime in June.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Watchmen
There's lots of reviews floating around out there on the Watchman movie, most of them flogging the movie for poorly adapting its source material. Here's the review from CNN.
I don't agree with this guy, but at least he read the book, which likely isn't the case with some of the written opinions of the Watchmen. The controversy swirling around this movie has always been how anyone would film the "unfilmable" movie. So it strikes me as a bit lazy and tired to read reviews bitching about how Snyder stuck too closely to the graphic novel:
"Snyder slavishly transcribes what's set down 5 inches in front of his face."
but somehow also adapted the movie enough to also invite this criticism:
"On the few occasions where the filmmakers do exercise their imaginations -- in a credit montage relating the glory days of the crimefighters Weegee-style, and in a neat improvement on Moore's climax -- the results are actually ingenious and sharp."
From the git-go, Snyder and the team that worked on this film were damned if they do, equally damned if they don't. I think the film did a great job of capturing the angst of washed up superheroes, the vigilantism and detective work of Rorschach, and the fear of an over dramatized Cold War conflict. Few book to movie translation ever go well because opinions vary widely on the inevitable editing and contracting that must be done when the source material is squeezed on to the big screen.
Snyder did about as good a job as anyone could have.
I don't agree with this guy, but at least he read the book, which likely isn't the case with some of the written opinions of the Watchmen. The controversy swirling around this movie has always been how anyone would film the "unfilmable" movie. So it strikes me as a bit lazy and tired to read reviews bitching about how Snyder stuck too closely to the graphic novel:
"Snyder slavishly transcribes what's set down 5 inches in front of his face."
but somehow also adapted the movie enough to also invite this criticism:
"On the few occasions where the filmmakers do exercise their imaginations -- in a credit montage relating the glory days of the crimefighters Weegee-style, and in a neat improvement on Moore's climax -- the results are actually ingenious and sharp."
From the git-go, Snyder and the team that worked on this film were damned if they do, equally damned if they don't. I think the film did a great job of capturing the angst of washed up superheroes, the vigilantism and detective work of Rorschach, and the fear of an over dramatized Cold War conflict. Few book to movie translation ever go well because opinions vary widely on the inevitable editing and contracting that must be done when the source material is squeezed on to the big screen.
Snyder did about as good a job as anyone could have.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
I AM Conan the Librarian
Ok, so you have good reason to doubt. After all, I proclaimed the exact same thing last year, but ended up crashing and burning.
I assure you, gentle reader, this time I really AM Conan the Librarian. Last week, I interviewed for the library position of the new middle school opening this fall. I made the initial cut and was invited back for a second interview yesterday. Of the two, my second interview went best. I was mostly coherent and knowledge for both, but I really nailed my second.
And so this afternoon, I got the official call from the principal. WOOT!
I'm especially stoked about this because I taught middle school kids for nine years before becoming a librarian. I know them well and have a unique appreciation of their quirkiness. I think I like middle school kids because there's a part of me that's just as immature as they are. I've been at an elementary school for the past three years, and though I've learned a lot, I know I can't make a career out of managing a primary-geared library.
But James? Cannot lightning strike twice? Might your new position be cut from underneath you, just like last year?
In a word, no. My new principal held off hiring for nearly two weeks waiting for the Human Resource department to approve her open positions. They won't cut the position because they just got done approving it a few short weeks ago. It should all be official by the middle of the month.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to drive the illiterate before me. Cue the brass and war drums.
I assure you, gentle reader, this time I really AM Conan the Librarian. Last week, I interviewed for the library position of the new middle school opening this fall. I made the initial cut and was invited back for a second interview yesterday. Of the two, my second interview went best. I was mostly coherent and knowledge for both, but I really nailed my second.
And so this afternoon, I got the official call from the principal. WOOT!
I'm especially stoked about this because I taught middle school kids for nine years before becoming a librarian. I know them well and have a unique appreciation of their quirkiness. I think I like middle school kids because there's a part of me that's just as immature as they are. I've been at an elementary school for the past three years, and though I've learned a lot, I know I can't make a career out of managing a primary-geared library.
But James? Cannot lightning strike twice? Might your new position be cut from underneath you, just like last year?
In a word, no. My new principal held off hiring for nearly two weeks waiting for the Human Resource department to approve her open positions. They won't cut the position because they just got done approving it a few short weeks ago. It should all be official by the middle of the month.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to drive the illiterate before me. Cue the brass and war drums.
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