Time to Shine from the Shadows

Glowing orange and red light pulsing down the next stretch of hallway...what to do, what to do. Theories ranged from "it's a dragon" to "it's definitely a dragon." Perhaps remembering what happened when the plate-clad paladin was sent ahead, Mairwen the rogue was selected to scout out the tunnel, and check on the dragon. She wasn't too happy about facing off with a dragon alone...but she acquiesced. Naturally the group stayed as far away as possible (in the room with the dead zombies) while Mairwen wandered off some 100 feet down the hallway. Mairwen made some stealth and perception checks and passed them with flying colors (amazing what happens when 1. there's no one listening and 2. someone with stealth makes them). No traps...and no one was aware of her presence. As she approached the end of the hall, where it made a turn to the left, the roar grew louder and an oppressive heat began to fill the walls.

Looking around the corner she spotted 8 ornate stone dragon statues, 6 of which were spewing flame into the hallway. Again...this isn't a very original trap (and not really a trap at all, since it had been indicated during and after the zombie fight), and a common fantasy gag, but hey...this was only the second night still, and my first dungeon. It's only natural some tired themes would dominate my creativity process as I grasped for ideas, right?

Anyhow, the party soon huddled in the corridor behind the flames. Beyond the flames was an ornate double door, shut. It was quickly logiced that there must be a hidden switch of some kind to turn off the flames. This was a reasonable guess, and in fact the truth. There was a hidden panel that could control the flames. Perception checks on the near side, naturally, revealed nothing. Despite several kick ass rolls, the party was forced to realize that yes, they would have to cross the fire in order to turn off the fire. Someone, either Peredu or Avyx I can't remember, asked to use a dungeoneering or history check to logic out where the lever was likely to be. One was particularly insistent that by knowing history one would have come across other traps like this. On the one hand I pointed out that no, that's what dungeoneering was for. It combined personal experience with familiarity (be it through stories, an old mentor, or the last dungeon you've been in) to figure that sort of thing out. They persisted, and I relented, and allowed a history check. The resulting roll, not very good, yielded this result:

You remember from various tales of castles, daring heroes, and dastardly villains...that the lever to turn a barrier on and off usually isn't kept on the same side of the trap as those you're keeping out. Yeah, it was smart assed, but it got a chuckle...and illustrated (I hope) that history really isn't going to be useful in this case, at least not beyond what they already "knew." The dungeoneering checks though...yielded nothing of use.

Well, they decided they needed to cross the fire, and finally, it was Mairwen's turn to shine (sort of). She decided she was going to go "all Entrapment" on the fire, and acrobatics her way through the flames. She nailed the roll, natural 20, and proceeded to flip, handspring, and dive her way to safety. She, of course, ended with a Mary Lou Retton flourish. She smugly began to look for the lever to turn off the fire...and failed. And failed some more. From heroic grace to random fumbling and tapping random blocks on the wall looking for the lever...oh the cruel fate of random chance.

Growing weary of the ordeal Norge decided to just bull his way through the fire...rolling a perfunctory acrobatics check (which he did surprisingly not terrible at). Regardless, the dwarf plunged onwards, I imagine just stopping and going trying to time the pulses and not really "dodging" at all. Dwarves, it turns out, are flammable. Norge emerged from the flames a little scorched, missing more than a bit of his beard, and minus a healing surge or two. No biggie, his awesome cleric healing powers fixed that up, and he quickly smashed a false panel in the wall and turned off the fire. Done and done.

I didn't do this little scene as well as I should have. There was no real danger, since Norge could heal any damage anyone took if they just walked through the fire. Sure, it would have used up a couple healing surges, but there was no real "threat" to this...it was an inconvenience, and not a real perilous moment. The fire just was something between them and an arbitrary skill check (perception on the panel). It felt...forced? Artificial? I'm not sure, there had been traps before...and traps are an integral part of the dungeon crawl experience. This one just didn't feel like it should have. I could have thrown a couple archers on the far side, and a spearman pushing anyone attempting to cross back into the fire, in order to force the "time" aspect of the incident...but I did put this in to break the wear and tear of constant combat. At this point there had been 3 rooms of combat back to back to back...which was taking up nearly all the time (once they got into the hill anyhow). Close to 4 hours of gametime had been devoted to smashing things with swords...I've already decided that had to change. If I had my sh*t together I'd have made it a skill challenge probably, but it was too "short" since only two actions were needed to cross the obstacle. 1) dodge the flame 2) find the hidden switch. I suppose it served its purpose...as it took 4 steps to get through the fire (5 if you include them talking about their options beforehand: Mairwen cross(success), Mairwen search (fail), Norge cross (fail), Norge search (success)). A skill challenge is supposed to take something like a half dozen successes (more with a group this large), so it wasn't really appropriate. I suppose it did break the monotony of constant combat, and forced some non-combat oriented strategizing and discussion. The biggest success, one I hadn't anticipated, was I got the final member of the group (Mairwen) into the game in an active role. She was really the only one who posessed the necessary acrobatics to dodge the flame, and should have been able to disarm it. Actually, she would have been able to disarm each trap one by one but shhh, they never tried that option. Regardless of chosen action, Mairwen had joined the group, for reals, despite the "meh" level of the vignette. I'd give it a 7 out of 10...it functioned, but was hardly a spectacular success.

But enough of that self-reflection, and used up trap. There was a door to open...

Mairwen (starting at this point to "feel" her role in the game) put her head against the door and heard some sort of rhythmic murmuring through the thick oak. It was soft, and distant, so with a bit of trepidation she opened the door and stuck her head into the room...

Left or Right?

Fully healed with their looting little hearts satisfied they proceeded down another short broad staircase and faced a decision, as a T-intersection lay at the base. To the right...torches led down a long corridor, and to the left only darkness. The half-elf, with her night-seeing eyes, was able to tell them that the corridor was the same as to the left. The group was strung along the stairs, Peredu and Avyx at the base, Norge, still lagging behind at the top of the stairs, guarding the rear.

There was considerable discussion at this point. A perception check revealed that the kobold who got away had gone down the corridor to the right, leaving behind a faint blood trail. Yeah, it's an old and tired gag following the trail of blood. But on the other hand, a bloodied creature running down a stone corridor will leave evidence of its passing.

The left hand corridor was dusty...ill traveled...and apparently ridiculously enticing. Into the darkness the party plunged, leaving behind the kobold, for the moment. As soon as Norge left the stairway he froze...his body stuck in some sort of stasis. At the same time he began to faintly fade out, becoming gradually more illusory. At the same time a shadow began to grow in the space within him, slowly solidifying. After a few moments only the faintest trace of Norge was visible, a sort of shadow occupying the place he had been standing a moment before. In his place John bon Jonne...the wizard sent to explore reports of piracy down river from Portage. John was not wholly formed, and retained a slight translucency about him, as if the shadow of Norge still present was the part of him missing (i.e. together they added up to 100% of a person, but John only 90% and Norge 10%). Norge, was still frozen in stasis, and John looked very confused, and more than a little frightened. He indicated that he couldn't hear when the party began to interrogate him...Peredu considered chopping John up into pieces since this was a sign of evil...until Ember reminded him that he was one of the people hired back in town. John's avatar, was unable to speak as well as hear, as though being projected from elsewhere.

What? Huh? Okay. Truth time: Norge was still on campus meeting with his advisor, and I needed a way to write him out of the story for a little while. Feeling the need to keep the encounters balanced I decided I could drop John into the story until Norge returned. A little bit of plot, a mystery to be solved, and suddenly the missing dwarf was part of the story. What was going on? This is suddenly more than a raid into a bandit nest (sans bandits, what's up with that?)

Well, the hulabaloo died down, and they set off down the unlit corridor to the left. Peredu took the lead, Avyx close behind, the rest of the party strung along behind. The corridor was only 5 feet wide or so, not enough to go two abreast. A ways down the corridor Peredu felt his foot sink into the ground...a pressure plate trod underfoot. Immediately spears came shooting out of the wall, driving their points into the side of the unsuspecting Tiefling. What followed next can best be described as pandemonium. Fingers were pointed: who had the bright idea to come down the unlit corridor away from the bad guys? What to do next? Shouting. Peredu frozen in place afraid to lift his foot off the pressure plate. More shouting.

Eventually everyone retreated to a safe distance and Peredu lifted his foot. Nothing. They then shoved Mairwen up front to look for more traps. Nothing. Peredu retook the lead, Avyx again right behind, the rest trailing along. *Click* *Thud* *More Shouting* Avyx again started yelling at Peredu for insisting they chose this corridor, all while plucking chainmail from deep in her side where a second set of spears had pierced her flesh, embedding the bits of metal. Oh the joys of failed perception checks.

There were a couple things wrong with this scenario: first- why did Avyx resume her position behind Peredu? How come no one noticed that the trigger caused a trap to spring behind him? Or rather, how come no one thought this fact was significant?

Anyhow, there were no more traps present in the hall, and the group found themselves in a small room. A door was on the opposite side. That was not noteworthy. What was noteworthy was the presence of barrels, boxes, crates, and piles of junk piled against the door. Spears and planks of wood were wedged at 45 degrees against the door holding it in place. Pieces of old armor had been hammered into sheets and nailed to the door, reinforcing it in a crude iron shell. At this point they couldn't miss the importance of the traps springing behind them as they walked. Something (dungeoneering check: kobolds) was trying to keep whatever was behind that door in.

To go in, or not?

The debate, became a side issue relatively quickly. Peredu started flinging boxes out of the way to open the door. Cooler heads prevailed, after heated discussion...halfway through which Peredu got bored with the debate and started moving boxes again...but eventually Mairwen opened a small loophole in the door (apparently where spears had been used in the past to prod whatever was on the other side of the door away) and peered through.

The walking dead shambled aimlessly in the room.

Mairwen immediately slammed the port shut, went to the other side of the room and flatly refused to go in. Peredu on the other hand took this as a sign that he had to go in. John couldn't speak. Avyx reluctantly agreed to the argument "we'll have to do this anyways eventually" despite weakly responding, "No, we don't have to..." I can't remember Ember's position in this debate. I'm sure she wasn't enthusiastic...but she also didn't put her little foot down. Now that I rethink though...with Avyx and Mairwen so opposed, Ember would almost have to have wanted to go in, right?

Anyhow, in they went.

I have to say one word here...they were in fact doing this dungeon in the "wrong order." I figured that they would go to the right, following the kobold and the lights. The darkened pathway was supposed to be ominous, and not terribly appealing (hence the traps). This wasn't a terribly inconvenient problem, and should just have required a little bit of a tweak here and there...but it did sort of unravel some of the story I had cobbled together to force the group onto their first mission. It shouldn't surprise you that there are more kobolds down to the right. After dealing with that portion of the storyline, and still banditless the group would be encouraged to explore the places that they didn't feel like going. Oh well, here they were. Where were they again? Oh yeah...zombies.

Peredu charged in, as paladins are wont to do, fanning to the left. John and Ember following, Avyx reluctantly trailing and heading right, and Mairwen sitting in the doorway, ready to get the heck out of dodge. Things went...actually extremely well for the group. Ember discovered she had a radiant spell in her repertoire, and she began scorching zombies left and right. The rest weren't terribly effective...Peredu ended up at deaths door, hiding in the corner trying to heal while Avyx had her hands full on the other side of the room.

As Avyx began to show signs of the abuse at the hands of the mindless zombies John began to waver, like an image lost in ripples of a pond. Over the course of a turn Norge reappeared. As he entered the table, I handed him a piece of paper, containing information only he would be privy too. As he left the last room of kobolds he felt his vision fade...then he was trapped in a surrealist dream...and then suddenly he was awake in a room that stank of decay with a swarm of zombies attacking his friends.

With the divine might of the (somewhat dazed) cleric, and the well aimed blasts of eldritch power from Ember the remaining zombies were quickly eliminated (except for one that wasn't killed with their radiant power. For fun, I had him keep getting back up and attacking until they put him down with a radiant spell). Peredu emerged from the corner he had hidden in, Mairwen decided the room was safe enough to enter properly, and Avyx growled at the Paladin who got her punched by zombies. Avyx growls a lot.

This room was an ossuary, empty in the middle apart from 4 pits where fires had burned in the ancient past. The walls had deep ledges carved into them, bones stacked and moldering in the recesses. Ember began to climb the bone shelves, because halflings tend to get bored after a while. The rest of the party was concerned by a slight glow emanating from the opposite corridor, a reddish pulsing glow accompanied by an occasional low roaring whoosh. Ah well, it's probably nothing...dark forgotten catacombs do that all the time, right?

For reasons of his own, Norge declined to share what he had experienced while "faded" out, and sadly, no one really wondered what had happened to John. Those jerks...I may be the DM, but I'm also John bon Jonne...and I have feelings too dammit. *sniffle* I'm just too worked up about this...I don't think I can see through the tears to type straight.

Night's End

Refreshed, eager, and with the taste of first blood in their bellies the party continued onward. At this point, I was a little concerned. The party had been sent to take care of some human bandits and were tussling with kobolds instead. Of course I knew why this was, but no one seemed particularly concerned with this discrepancy. I filed this piece of information away for later. While the mission had come together without much planning or larger background, I was starting to 1) get a feel for what people expected and 2) how to string together my ad hoc decisions.

Peredu lit his sunrod. Essentially lighting the way with a miniature sun, as opposed to grabbing a torch off the walls, or using one from their packs. Not exactly the best way to sneak up on people..."Oi! Nigel! What's that light coming down the 'allway burning with the might of the sun?" "I dunno Stan. Probably nothing."

Oblivious, or uncaring, of this little fact the party continued trumpets announcing their progress (so to speak). They ventured down a short corridor, down some steps into the next room of the dungeon. Torches blazed brightly in all corners, and in the hallway that led out the opposite way of the room. I prodded the group to make a nature check, so they could know a little something about the kobolds they were facing. The main reason for this was to add this little piece of information: Kobolds can see in the dark...it doesn't make sense for them to have torches lighting up the rooms and hallways. I'm not sure if that sunk in...but hey, whether they pay attention or not isn't my problem. In seriousness, I was starting to test how much "plot" and "intrigue" (such as my limited abilities allow) they wanted, or could handle. We were still trying to remember how to add modifiers, so clearly plot wasn't going to be the main thrust. This still was functioning as a warm-up.

The room was an old crypt, with sarcophagi lining the floor, and shelves cut into the rock walls for the placement of relics, bodies, or other burial related items. These shelves had had their contents dumped on the floor, and replaced with cots...occupied by filthy piles of rags: kobold beds. The effigies upon the sarcofagi had been defaced to the point where the origin of the inhabitants was unknowable. Well, as one can imagine, the Kobolds didn't take too kindly to non-kobolds bursting into this room, weapons still wet with the blood of their compatriot. A general melee ensued.

This room I had built so it was more of a test for the group, not a walkover. Unfortunately, a ridiculously high perception check from Mairwen let the group know that there were pit traps on the floor. I was a little bummed out, because I had already concocted some brilliant strategies involving those pits the kobolds (and halfling, grumble) could walk over but not the big people. Peredu spent a good portion of this encounter on fire or trapped in glue. Oh those crafty kobolds. The kobolds had a good opening round, gluing the paladin to the ground and doing a fair amount of damage to Norge. However, Peredu got free, Avyx healed up Norge, and they started smashing the kobolds. In the back Mairwen and Ember were having difficulties with their dice rolls. Ember was pretty much done with her spells (as mentioned before her construction made it hard for her to hit these) and we hadn't gotten the hang of the rogue rules, combat advantage, etc. So there were hits from the back...but the strikers weren't exactly "striking it up." Also, towards the end of the encounter, when things had fallen apart for the monsters, the remaining kobolds slingers (who had used up all of their fire and glue keeping the paladin in place and on fire) decided the best course of action was to get all stabby with the halfling.

Ultimately this action proved futile. Peredu saved from the last of the glue bombs. Avyx and Norge kept up a good smash/heal duo. Mairwen ran away from lots of things, and helped the Ember escape stabby death.

There were two points to this (ultimately) futile action. The first was to make the combat exciting for me, because it's no fun losing all the time. Coming as close as possible to winning (without doing so) is a tough gig. More importantly it was to "train" the party and make them use tactics and stuff. "Peredu to the front! We'll heal you!" needs to be expanded a little more. So doing an end-round and stabbing the squishy targets served to make sure the party didn't get too comfortable in a set role. Having Ember and Mairwen decide to just chill in the back and launch missile after missile is their stated goal...but they shouldn't get complacent. Peredu, Avyx, and Norge were actually cut off from Ember by the last spear wielding Kobold, the tombs, and the traps. This feeling of helplessness (as they slowly ran around the circumference of the room trying to help the frantic halfling/halfelf team) was what I was trying to cultivate. But eventually, there was a final twang of a crossbow, and final slice of a sword, and the last kobold went fleeing down into the depths of the catacombs.

Again, the party settled down to heal up, patch up the dwarf, and put the still on-fire paladin out. The room was tossed, some gold was found *yay* and the general description of the room was expanded. Nothing terribly revealing at that point because...the night was over. Every entry you have read up until this point was a single session of the game. A meeting, a long walk, and two rooms of the dungeon. It had taken 5...6...more? hours to get that "only" that far, and they were ~1/3 of the way through.

I realized I had a small problem, but was more or less stuck. Combat takes a long time. Each fight took an hour or more. Yeah, you read it in 3 minutes...and in game time they only lasted 30 seconds for the spider battle and maybe a minute for the crypt fight. But here in the real world it took over an hour, close to an hour and a half. Of course this is going to speed up with time...there was lots of "uhm...wait...what?" as people didn't have their course of action prepared, or were just unfamiliar with the mechanical aspect of the game. However, at the very core DnD is combat oriented, so there's not terribly much I can do to change that. I didn't feel that I could legitimately eliminate the rooms left in the dungeon, so there was nothing to do but have them slog on through. The next adventure I'd construct, I told myself, would do something to break up the monotony of room(fight)-room(fight)-room(fight). Also, even though it was only our first session I decided I was going to write some background information to give the characters to spice up their crawl. I thought at that point I'd have a good enough handle on things to be able to expand my repertoire and focus on the story, and not just not messing up the rules.

Of spiders and men

So finally, I'm going to continue with the Nerdensaga. I've been letting this slide, and material is rapidly accumulating on the other side of the tale. Mea culpa. Let us continue...

Finally(!) the party entered the hill. They quickly noticed some nice wind-chimes dangling from the ceiling. Nice, tacky, made of the bones of small animals, available at Crate & Barrel wind-chimes. This was my first clumsy attempt at a trap, preplanned, to test how cautious the group would be...and to offer some (minor) repercussions for not watching where they were about to step.

You see these chimes happened to be hung at roughly head level, so had they not decided to perception check they'd have bumped them and set off a dull clanking subtle alarm. Fortunately for the party they did notice, and managed to avoid the chimes. Unfortunately they didn't take the next logical step and decide to proceed cautiously (after all, if someone is listening for this none-too-subtle alarm system, someone is probably going to be listening for the sounds of a heavily armed party). If nothing else, Peredu's clanking and rattling tipped off everyone for three counties that they were heading down.

I filled the journey down into the hill with some filler text that at the time was totally random. I must stress that at this point the dungeon itself was pretty much lifted straight from the back of the dungeons masters guide. This is still just an hour into my first session/adventure ever...much less as a DM. I had only a rough understanding of the rules, much less how to create encounters that would challenge and entertain the party. The natural fissure they entered turned into a crudely widened path, then a well carved entry until finally after a hundred yards or so into the belly of the hill the sides showed signs of masonry. Blocks had been carved from the inner hill and placed to support and decorate the walls and ceilings of this clearly unnatural series of chambers. In an arbitrary decision I decided that these had been carved by the Dragonborn, and a couple of history checks later the party had come to that conclusion. I apologize to my party...yes, the plot you've become embroiled in began with these totally random decisions. I'm sorry...you see, I was scared! And I had to answer your questions with something besides "Uhm...I dunno...old?"

Anyhow, they entered the first chamber, a low square room, with a pillar supporting the vaulted ceiling. A series of tapestries lined the walls, and some torches guttered and flickered in the draft of air seeping in from the plains outside.

Avyx, perhaps overcome with the novelty of this situation, immediately began demanding the halfling warlock arcana check the room. Nothing. Then, arcana check the tapestry...and was getting ready to check each square and each wall tile. I had to pause for a moment and collect myself...how could I stop this? I finally responded with "is there something specifically you're looking for?" And told her that I wasn't going to run the game like Doom...I recall strafing down hallways repeatedly tapping the spacebar looking for those damn hidden doors.

Satisfied Avyx approached one of the rotten moldering tapestries and poked it with her sword.

This (of course) triggered the swarm of spiders that had been happily nesting within to attack whoever had been foolish enough to disturb their reverie. I was rewarded with squeals of terror and remarks that can be summed up as "ooh...icky" First combat had begun.

Norge, the only seasoned hand, turned to one of the two doors, knowing that something bad lay beyond one or both of the hallways. The others scattered, flinging their powers in every direction trying to smoosh the spiders (I'd just re-skinned the rat swarm creature...because god DAMN do I hate spiders. I think they're scarier. I know there's already a spider swarm, but concerned with proper levels of difficulty, etc. I kept it simple). Ember and Mairwen fled to the opposite side of the room and tried to pick individual spiders off with their crossbows.

Oh, you know those 3 peasants that had been tagging along, Tom, Dick, and Harry? One look at the fist sized spiders crawling over an enraged and terrified Tiefling warlord was enough for them, and they fled in the direction they came from. I made a pretense at rolling to see if they stayed, muttering something about "a roll for courage" luckily I rolled poorly, and they wet themselves and fled. Of course...even had I rolled well their courage would have failed. I'm not sure if this is the proper etiquette, but I felt that it gave my players the illusion of the events being random and open to their intervening actions, even though their flight was preplanned (I had plans for them). Peredu started to go after the peasants, his sense of honor damaged after all of the pep talks he had wasted on them...but Avyx got a little shrill with spiders all over her, and he swooped in to engage.

I have to admit, that even though I described the spiders as fist sized, the image I have in my mind for this scene is Peredu on his hands and knees smashing the spiders with the hilt of his sword, while Avyx keeps jumping up and down trying to shake them off.

Peredu, after smashing a couple of spiders suddenly felt a sharp pang in his arm, and then another. The spiders didn't take to kindly to being smushed, and had swarmed on him. Norge, having had enough of that turned to engage the spiders.

And then, exactly as predicted...a kobold came flying around the corner to sink a spear directly in the Dwarf's back. Yes, it was cliche, and hell, Norge knew it was coming. But hey, I have to uphold my end of the bargain, right? So Norge dealt with the kobold, while Avyx and Peredu kept smashing away at the spiders. Mairwen decided to start shooting crossbow bolts at the kobold while Ember ran into the corner, away from the spiders and alternating between (trying) to scorch them with her eldritch blasts and picking them off with her mini crossbow.

Through a quirk in her character creation it turns out our warlock was better equipped to hit things with her crossbow...and not so much with her spells. That would need fixing. The party was giving away massive damage in favor of her ability to hit the broad side of a barn.

Anyhow, each turn Avyx would step away from the spiders...and the spiders would follow. And each time they followed Avyx they drew closer to the now shrill halfling. "No, no no no! Don't bring them over here!"

Ah, these are the moments I live for.

Of course, it wasn't long before the party gooshed all my lovely spiders, and crushed the skull of the kobold skirmisher. The party had passed their first encounter, with flying colors. Peredu and Norge figured out pretty quickly how to hack and smash everything in sight. Avyx had a little trouble remembering which power did what, and really spent the whole encounter unfortunately missing her attacks. Ember, as mentioned above, failed any attempts to use magic, and resorted rather quickly to her crossbow...probably not the best use of a warlock. The rogue, Mairwen, caused some problems as we realized we didn't totally understand the combat advantage rules. I think we screwed them up...oh well. The concept was driven established: yeah you can pick them off with a crossbow, but "meh." The real role of the rogue is to get all backstabby. Or as she put it "all up in their grill." Only by "grill" she means their kidneys, and by "up in" she means "with my daggers". We'll see if these lessons stick.

The party immediately went on a looting spree, uncovering a hoard of rusted weaponry and a trivial amount of gold. I'm not going to count the loot every step of the way unless it's significant I think. Bolstered with confidence, and fearful of the other tapestries they continued down into the dungeon halls, to the next room that surely awaited them.

Up That Hill

It's kind of strange how things I intended to go quickly take a long time, and things I planned on being important end up being blazed right through. For example, I had expected "the party" to have a problem with me giving them 5 peasants to accompany them. At the very least they were going to cut into the profit margin...so I'd planned out a bit of interaction with the peasant bully boys and the party. But, they were cool with it.

So the party made their way across the plains. For flavor text (or was it?) a horseman appeared on a hilltop a couple miles away. The image I had in mind was of the American Plains along the Oregon trail, when suddenly a single Native American appears in the distance, watching the wagon train. Not moving to attack, but clearly not intimidated. Just...watching. It had the desired effect, forcing the party to halt and have a nice conversation about what to do. Even though "nothing happened" I think it was one of my more successful encounters for the group, and one of the earliest moments of them "getting into it." There was some genuine tension as they tried to figure out if this was a problem...but eventually decided there was nothing to be done and continued onwards. Yay!

I had 2 of the peasants run away the first chance they got...clearly their nerves weren't up to this. But I had came up with something more interesting for the remaining three (Tom, Dick, and Harry) so their nerves held. I pretended to roll dice (sorry Peredu, your awesome intimidate checks were window dressing) to mask this...but with 5 of them there's no way they were all going to pass a random selection by the dice. It's interesting how the dynamic of chance was already starting to interfere with my story...three botched rolls on my part (or three amazing ones on Peredu's) and the new plan I had in store for Tom, Dick, and Harry would have been out the window. But the odds prevailed and three peasants stayed (conveniently renamed Tom, Dick, and Harry...regardless of who rolled which). Again some interesting dynamics of the group started to emerge...Avyx was angry, demanding whose watch they'd slipped out on. Peredu was a little upset that after bonding with them (by yelling at them not to run) they'd betrayed him and ran off anyhow. Norge...well...Norge had decided they were useless anyhow, and good riddance to bad rubbish. Mairwen and Ember didn't say much in this exchange...I'm still trying to figure how to engage each person. What are they looking for? Is it their comfort level keeping them quiet? Do they feel this exchange isn't "tailored" for them? What are a warlock and rogue to say about peasants anyhow?

So remember when I said some things took way longer than expected? Well the party arrived at the hill where the bandits were said to be located. I described it, essentially, as a jumble of boulders inexplicably rising above the plain. Were I to enter science mode I'd probably say it was some sort of glacial kame, and that the plains likely were carved by some glaciation period in the past. I'd described it a little more like Iowa than Ohio...but I'm allowed to alter geomorphology...it's my world.

Anyhow, the hill. There's a copse of tree on the top, brush growing on the sides, and a small river a short ways away. I'd figured that there options were: wait for daylight (as I had them arrive at dusk), or go right up and planned accordingly. They managed somehow to both start and wait forever. They easily spotted the trail up the hill...but after falling into some brush and making a racket got spooked (oh those tricksy dice). And I could not convince them to go up the hill. Mairwen walked around the hill. Norge walked up to the base of the hill. They all walked around the hill. Peredu forced the peasants to walk up the back of the hill and back down. But dear lord were they reticent to go up the hill. Of course, had they simply gone up the trail they would have seen an entrance into the hill they'd missed before. But nothing is simple. (to the right: what a scary hill might look like)

Finally, peasants in front like a shield Peredu ventured up the hill. You know, I must disclose...I didn't get the feel that Peredu was doing the best roleplaying at this point (still our first night), but upon writing down the actions he was pretty active in everything. I've just got to get him more involved in some of the conversations. So finally...atop the hill. And into an abandoned necropolis. Shattered crypts and flecks of bone mark the location of an ancient burial ground...which was almost enough to send them right back down the hill. I'd had enough trouble getting them up the hill (note I didn't really want them on the hill...I wanted them halfway up the front...but they'd been avoiding that religiously since the first moment).

So they explored the hill. They poked the bones. The peasants threw small rocks down the hill. They stared back down the back of the hill. At this point I almost threw a *cough* look down the front *cough* but resisted. They perception checked, arcana checked, nature checked and religion checked all over the wazoo. I have to admit another failure...I wasn't quite as prepared as I should have been for some of their successes...but made enough up to sketch a bare bones reply (and pretend the difficulty was really high). In the future I'll 1) do more prep work (ugh, where will I find the time?) and 2) be more willing to make stuff up.

Finally they started to walk back down the hill...and someone looked down the front of the hill immediately seeing the entrance. At this point I broke "character" and expressed a little of the frustration I'd had "I just could not get you to walk up the front of that hill!" Subtext? "Get up that damn hill soldier!" There were some odd expressions, as the "duh...it was that simple" and "we didn't do that?" competed for space. On the one hand they learned something about what it's going to be like when they come across entirely unknown territory to the DM (and learn they're on the "wrong" track) and also how to make sure they've done everything they thought about doing. I, on the other hand, learned they're not going to do things the way I deem simple, and there is no "wrong" track, I just need to learn how to take that wrong track, and lay track desperately in front of the oncoming train...and hopefully smash my predicted path into the way.

The funny thing is, this was a very informative time...don't write stories so a bad roll will halt the party (a failed stealth check made them afraid of the hill), learn how to conceal directed story with the appearance of infinite choice, and the first inklings of roleplaying in my party. We'd probably spent an hour to this point and not had a single real encounter. The story so far?

Met. Got job to take out bandits. Walked to hill (saw scary horse guy, lost 2 peasants). Walked up hill. Saw cave. Decided to enter. Pretty basic stuff, yet somehow we'd spent over an hour getting there exploring nuances of the story and my mind (at this point...pretty empty and simple). Next entry...they'll enter the hill. And see what awaits them under the cemetery.

The Adventure Begins...

I've decided, the hell with it. I'm going to regale you with tales of the table top. It'll probably be a mixture of 3rd person narrative, and first person memory recall. I'll mix and match as appropriate. You'll just have to deal with it. As before, the names have been changed to protect the nerdy. I'll just call them by their character names. I tried to be brief...but the result was a "tl:dnr"* worthy post. Ugh, why am I in a field that encourages my tendency to go on and on and on...

We gathered in the house of one of our compatriots, and basically nervously made small talk...it was a heady experience. I was pretty nervous, once begun I can never take it back...I'll forever be marked as having played D&D. I'd spent a good amount of time whipping up a campaign, creating a small portion of a world for my players to inhabit, and was nervous about 1) my ability to entertain 2) remembering more than half the rules and 3) just being the focus of peoples attention...as much as I love telling a good story, when it's expected of me to do something, present/tell a story/whatever my nerves kick in and I freak the fuck out. I know, it's amazing that something could make me nervous about talking and telling a story...but it happens.

But eventually, we began. I explained the town they found themselves in. A little village...or town...it lies somewhere in between, resting in the crook of an oxbow river, called Portage. It rests at the edge of 'civilization' (as far as the inhabitants of this region are concerned) at the edge of a barren plain. It exists solely because of a low point in a river requiring merchant barges to unload and reload downstream of the rocks. The keep and walls are falling apart, remnants of a fortification predating the current occupation. The current residents are essentially squatters, most employed to haul goods, and a few work on the scattered farms on the same side of the river as the town.

I instructed my player that their reasons for being attracted to this town were their own (no one had given me their backstories...so I didn't know either actually) but they were probably disappointed...instead of a bustling, rough and tumble "frontier town" they find a slowly collapsing, boring, empty, filthy village. Think "Dayton, OH." (I was in a bad mood when I conceived the town, and took out my frustration on Dayton, every problem I have with it, every stereotype and shortcoming, I lumped into poor Portage. Why? Because fuck Dayton, that's why.)

They each found a notice calling for any adventurers passing through town nailed to a sign post at one of the two intersections in town, and they made their way to the inn, looking for a contract (and money). I described the inn, the innkeeper, and had them ushered into a meeting room filled with the respondents.

Background given I made a n00b mistake, I said "okay...go."

No one spoke. *crickets* Awkward. Familiar flushing on my neck. It's 5th grade all over again.

I can only assume that lack of familiarity with "how to play," nerves about being "that guy" (you know the one who affects a British accent of sorts, puts on pointy ears, and is just a little too into it), and not really knowing "what to do," all contributed. Anyhow, after enduring the silence, and having my own freakout, I tried to poke and prod responses with little in the way of a result. Avyx half-heartedly started to explain what she was up to, but nervously trailed away to nothingness.

"Enough!" I thought, "I'll cram more exposition down their throats!"

At this point, however, I was just as nervous. How can I weave an engrossing story (because just shoving them into dungeons isn't fun), without crossing the same line. So I kind of brought in the town mayor, gave them a contract, and shoved them out the door "in passing" as my narrative style. All third person, no direct dialogue "he tells you to go in this direction" "he says he doesn't know that" etc. etc. I snuck in a little flavor, but probably could have balanced it a bit better. Oh well, it's a learning experience for all. At this point it was a symbiotic relationship of suck...I sucked at telling the story, they weren't responding, further decreasing my ability to tell the story.

In short...attempts to expand their farmland across the river results in farmsteads being burned by bandits. Attempts to guard it prove ineffective as shortly after the guards return to town the bandits return and once more set the buildings to the torch. There are pirates plaguing the river south of Portage, and things are just terrible. Won't you please take care of it Mr. and Miss powerful action heroes? If we could just get one or two things to go our way this town will improve, pinky swear. They were granted a contract for 10 gold per bandit ear (the bandits conveniently wore distinctive earrings to mark their identity according to eyewitness reports). They were given the location of the hideout, and with that (and a few disparaging remarks) the mayor left.

The group got a little into it during the conversation, trying starting to feel out the ins and outs of what they should be doing. At one point Norge, our only experiened player, did decide to magnanimously buy ale for all, and the group indicated that general drinking related entertainment was occurring in game. Peredu, the zealous paladin, decided he was having none of that and took his character upstairs to sleep (yay! he roleplayed!)

I'd had it set up so that the room was filled with local flavor, peasants and dock workers who thought they were "up to snuff" with the intention of forcing my characters to try to drive them off (persuade them to go away, or whatever). Instead they passively accepted that they had a bunch of cannon fodder with them now (what BASTARDS! they're supposed to be anthropologists, all emotional, and caring about the plight of the poor and stuff! Not cold bloodedly decide that they can shove them in front of their trek to search for traps** with their feet like an African warlord.) I kept my cool, and didn't berate them too much...after all, it was no time to tell them they're losing the game already as well as being terrible anthropologists. So with no introductions to each other, familiarization with complimentary skills (or really knowledge of each others classes and abilities aside from moments of joint character creation) they set out...with 5 peasants in tow. Peter, Paul, Tom, Dick, and Harry I named them. In no way are they disposable characters, why would you suggest that after my amazing naming scheme was revealed?

I was worried about playing a character and DMing. How am I supposed to let John bon Jonne speak without giving away too much, avoid the temptation of forcing narrative and exposition through him, and keep another (more complicated) set of stats straight during combat? So I conveniently had him take a minor contract to explore in another direction, down the river, with a contingent of guardsmen, and removed him from the table.

So there you have it. A poorly acquainted group is setting off across the plains, there's a stone hill 2 days march to the northeast, filled with bandits, and they've got 5 hungry, scared, poorly trained and armed peasants around them. They can see nothing but undulating beige grassland in all directions. It's like Kansas...with swords instead of power rock...err, wheat.

Now that I've crammed exposition down your throats I can begin the telling of the tale, "untitled and the untitled untitled," pretty catchy, huh?


The Cast to date:
Avyx, tiefling (half-demon) warlord (f)
Ember, halfling warlock (f)
John bon Jonne, human, wizard (m) absent
Mairwen, half-elf rouge (f)
Norge, dwarf cleric (m)
Peredu, human paladin (m)

Supporting Cast:
Peter, Paul, Tom, Dick, Harry, human, dirty peasants
Belkin, dwarf, innkeep (m). Massively fat, runs his inn from a wheeling chair (not a wheelchair I might remind you). Warm, open, and nice...even by human standards (so borderline psychotic by Dwarf standards)
Hjeldin Barkavaad, human, reeve or mayor (m). Old, pouchy, incompetent. Running a fail-town not as a reward, but to keep him out of the way of the real bureaucracy.


____________________
*too long: did not read
**This actually was said!

Daring Deeds and Dashing D...heroes...

So, about a month ago some of my fellow anthro people (who shall remain nameless, to protect the innocent...or something) and I took our steps into a dark and treacherous place. You see, I'm a nerd. I'm not ashamed of that, and in fact I've grown to embrace it as time goes on. Let's face it...my entire scholastic/professional track is based on this nerd-ish tendency. I love Star Wars, have read LOTR multiple times, I play computer games, and can speak lolcat.

However, one thing I have never done is play Dungeons and Dragons. There's no particular reason for it, I wasn't really exposed to people who played it regularly, and those I did encounter were the "scary" D&Ders... I'm not one to profile people, so I'll just leave that there (and no, that's not me or any of my nameless companions to the left).

But I'm an adult now (hah), and my friends are all adults, and I can trust them to be responsible and mature (hah). Anyhow, I felt it was a safe environment, we'll leave it at that.

So I mentioned that it really was a sort of affront to my nerddom that I had never played D&D. I know most of the jokes, I understand the hilarity of casting magic missile at the darkness, and I know the difference between an epic fail and an epic flail. But, much to my shame, I've never rolled a D4 hoping against hope to drop an area attack and send kobolds and goblins fleeing my arcane powers.

Hi. My name is Marcus...and I...I'm a nerd poser.

Anyhow, at my admission, several others came clean, who despite their seemingly impressive nerd credentials were also unfamiliar with rolling polyhedrons. So, together, we decided to take the plunge.

Books were read, dice bought, and at least two pewter figurines were painted.

We've assembled quite the motley crew...our half-demon warlord Avyx, our half elf rogue (who does an incredible impression of a tree) Mairwen, the highly flammable halfling warlock Ember, Clanky and Cranky...our human paladin and dwarf cleric (Peredu and Norge), and the sometimes conscious wizard Jon bon Jonne. The role of DM (at least for the time being) has been filled by yours truly. Not because I'm any good at the game, or have any deep understanding of the mechanics...I don't. But because I volunteered, and figured it would be the best way to learn, since I'd have to. Yeah, that's right...I'm playing D&D trying to learn stuff. It's kind of weird.

Anyhow, faced with the concept of learning a new game, and how to run it what was I to do. I read what I could of the Players Handbook and the Dungeon Master book...but despite my experience learning things from books those weren't the most helpful. I've had to go a little further afield. I dredged deep into my nerd bones and found:

The folks at Penny-Arcade and PVP Dungeon Crawl podcast
and
Critical Hit podcast
(just go to itunes to subscribe to either of them, or muddle around on the internet to figure out how to do it that way...I'm not entirely sure)

So armed with listening in on how campaigns are run, a rough idea of how the rules worked, I cobbled together an adventure, with the story...well, not quite improvised as I went along, but definitely "in flux" as the weeks advanced. We just finished the first "adventure" (or whatever you want to call it) and despite some rough patches went pretty well I think. Took 3 nights to make it through, but I'd say...success? Maybe I'll issue a play-by-play...cuz again...I'm a nerd (and so are you).

Poe's Law

If you're not familiar with Poe's Law, it can be summed up as:

It is impossible to create of parody of Fundamentalism that someone won't mistake for the real thing, barring winking, laughing, etc. on the part of the parodist.

With that in mind read this:

DNA Sculpture is "Vile and Offensive"

Had I not tipped you to the parody angle, would you have been able to tell? It says wonders about the state of the discussion doesn't it (and not in a good way).

Science!

This made me laugh far harder than it should have:

Heisenberg is driving down the highway one day when he sees a cop pull up behind him, siren blaring and lights flashing. So Heisenberg pulls over and the cop walks up to his car and looks over the top of his shades at him, "Sir, do you have any idea how fast you were going?"

"No officer, but I do know precisely where I am."
~Joke courtesy of the internets.

What I learned in Houston

A personal entry today. You know, where I talk about feelings and stuff. Hah.

Anyhow, this last week I made quite the epic journey from Columbus, OH to Houston, TX, and then back again (in the course of 4 days...with loading and unloading an entire home along the way).

The driving was actually pretty easy, at one point I got a little groggy, but quickly snapped out of it and cruised the rest of the way.

I, now that I think of it, don't have too many amusing stories or anecdotes from the trip. Louisiana was surprisingly flat (I guess I just never thought about the topography required for a giant swamp), Mississippi was kind of iffy, and Houston was...well...a city.

Anyhow, it totally drained me, I was supposed to be all hardworking and stuff this week to finish out my summer...but that ain't happening. I just want to sleep.

Nerd Alert

Well, it's not much to look at, but she's got it where it counts:

http://www.asciimation.co.nz/#

ASCII star wars.

All I need are the goggles

When in doubt...steampunk computers. If I had money to burn, all my machines would be variations of these:

And of course my absolute favorite, the steampunk laptop:



And if you haven't seen this, check out Steampunk Star Wars.
(My favorite is the Steampunk Death Star)

Coooooool

The NASA Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter mapped all but one of our lunar landing sites from the Apollo missions (link).

I'm going to side-step the whole moon landing denial thing (since this will just be dismissed as photoshopped lies).

This is SO cool. I especially love the image from the Apollo 14 mission:


You can see the lander (pointed out by the arrow, you can really get a sense of its shape in its shadow), and just to the upper left of the lander leading off to the left the actual tracks left by the astronauts walking to a series of instruments to the left of the picture. So not only do we see the lander (cool) we can see the actual footprints left by our astronauts.

If that doesn't move you check your pulse and call 911...you might be dead.

Le sigh

I miss my kittens. To help sooth my damaged feelings: pictures of my kittens, arranged with amusing captions...maybe a story or two. You never know.

Like most kittens: they hate the vacuum cleaner. Geo is hiding in the sink from that vile machine.
Sometimes both of them try to hide in the sink.

Did you know Geo has camouflage? Near total invisibility in the pile o' shoes.


Helloooooo

Your knee. It offends me.


I kill it.

Kill! Die Die Die Diieeeeeeee!

What's all that noise about?


Ah. It's you. Carry on...but keep it down.

Have you ever had to punish a cat? Well it doesn't work so well...Little Miss Geo routinely makes me look foolish while trying to chase her down to punish her. I've decided to go with a "time out corner" here's what it looks like...I'm still working on making a tiny little dunce cap.



I think I'm getting sick from a tumble into a polluted creek today...so I'm going to go to bed. Good night moon!

(Geo in her Fortress of Solitude)

Shameless

Shamelessly lifting this from Fark:

In honor of Tesla's birthday: video of a Tesla coil.



Oh, and this:

I'm not updating this as much as I might "like," but I'm spending more of my energies 1) digging and 2) updating Undead Naked Archaeology. I'll see what I can't do about getting some updates in here on "real" stuff...but really, most of my mind is otherwise occupied. Oh well...maybe I'll revert to a series of video posts I find off Youtube...

Crash Landing

You know, I'm not quite sure what to think about this picture. (link)


I guess part of me would expect some huge crater...like the sort you see in, well, a science fiction movie. I mean, it's not like Hollywood would exaggerate things to make them more spectacular, right? Then again, the impact was "only" 300kph, and while the blurb says the parachute didn't open, they have to mean the main chute, or one of many, as I'd expect something that was crashing from beyond the magnetosphere would have a bit more momentum than that, right? Anyhow...I guess I'm sometimes a little sad that reality doesn't mesh with what I "know" about space thanks to Star Trek/Star Wars/Battlestar Galactaca/Dr. Who/etc.

I should know better, as I know better than most how freaking hard dirt is. I've certainly swung a mattock at full strength only to have it bounce off particularly frozen or clayey soil or a rock with totally uninjured soil laughing at my efforts. When I put things into that perspective the face that this object burrowed so deep suddenly becomes impressive again.

Still...I want more.

I was discussing with my father the other week just how disappointing it would be if we made contact, developed interstellar travel and discover...Vulcans. Boooooring. Us? With pointy ears? I mean yeah, it's cool we'd have discovered more life and there would be so much to learn, do, etc....but I think deep down I'd be a little disappointed. Of all the possible combinations there could be it turns out there's a single blueprint for life? Yawn. (well, of course it would be cool to know that, but again, I'd imagine a slight letdown too). Where are the tentacled monsters? Where are the lizard people? Where's Admiral Ackbar? I guess when it comes right down to it...I want Star Wars, and not Star Trek when/if we make it to deep space.

I'm never sleeping again

I hate bees. Hate hate hate hate bees. And bees, hate America (why else would they attack America's pastime?)

Article (with Video of Bee Swarming Action)

I'm not sure if I've ever expressed my displeasure with our yellow and black stinging neighbors. But suffice it to say I'm having freaking nightmares for a week after even a brief encounter like this with swarming action (and of course torturing myself by following various internet threads on the activity and pictures of people covered in bees.

What's that?

I'm covered in beeeeeees!

Filler? Never, I hardly know'er!

I had something I wanted to say, but I forgot (and of course I can't remember if it belonged here or in UNA). Obviously it must not have been important. Instead I'll leave you with a cool image from APOD from the other day: (click for full size)


This used to be considered a "hole in the sky," but APOD doesn't go into too much detail about what was meant by that, I'm guessing it's some cute reference or something...I find it hard to believe that anyone thought that in the last couple hundred years. Oh well, I suppose I'll go wiki it...

(Okay, wiki summary: the usual that you'd expect about dust clouds...filled with dust (wow), but are suspected to be "nurseries" where stars form. It showed some of the cooler dust clouds as well, and following link to link I learned that this particular one is located towards Ophiuchus (the "13th" constellation of the zodiac). Some of these dark clouds are visible as dark stains against the backdrop of the Milky Way).

Up

So I finally saw Up a while back, and of course I'll joint the legions of people telling you "it's amazing."

However, the helpless romantic in me (I'm sure you'll be surprised to know that despite my cynicism and general grumpiness I'm essentially an optimist and a sap) couldn't help but be directly hit by some of the character storylines. I still believe the mythos: that as an archaeologist I'm basically an adventurer (of sorts). Yeah, Dayton may not be deepest darkest South America, but it's related, right? (That and there's nothing that specifically prevents me from changing my focus to someplace that exotic...other than the spiders. and snakes. and scorpions. Okay, there are lots of things preventing me from changing my focus to someplace that exotic. Stop bothering me. The point is I COULD be working in Alaska...or Malta...or Ireland...or wherever, as it's all within what "we" do.) But I still wander, I still consider the new things I learn exploration and discovery, so it's close enough that it strikes my personal harmonic.

As a kid I was definitely Carl, and not Ellie: satisfied with books and models and limited activity to accompany my fantasies (wheras Ellie was more run around, make a clubhouse and imagine it and do it big in the physical world...not my bag). On the other hand I've not settled for life "happening while I make other plans" although once or twice I've gotten kinda of distracted and almost wandered into complacency.

In other words: Ellie's fate terrifies me, which made the movie far sadder to me than I think it did to most people? Maybe not...maybe the people who have put aside their childhood ambitions of becoming an X felt it more strongly than me. Maybe we feel it all the same. Maybe I'm just super full of myself...And to be totally honest, it's not like being an archaeologist even WAS a childhood fantasy of mine, it's something that came to my attention a little later in life (as a kid it was paleontology, of course...which I guess to most people it's close enough, right?).

To sleep perchance to dream...

So if you've bothered to ask me (not that you should have, it's a strange sort of thing to bring up) I probably have mentioned that I do not remember my dreams. As a result of twenty some dreamless years, when I do happen to remember a dream it is usually notable for one of two reasons. Either a) It's absolutely amazingly weird or b) it scares the ever living piss out of me. Unfortunately option a was put in there to balance things out, as that almost never happens. If I do remember a dream it's generally because it woke me up in sheer terror. I'll pause to let you debate which type of dream I'm about to unleash upon all of you (and by "unleash" I mean "have to get off my chest" it was that distinctive).

Things started off normally enough, I suppose, two friends and I were having a meal with Ben Franklin. As you do. Actually, let's go back a moment. What's a weirder aspect of the dream, the non-chalant inclusion of one of founding fathers (and what would we have talked about? how to avoid syphillis when tapping French aristocracy?), or that I have no idea who these two "friends" were? Yet, without skipping a beat my brain knew that these random figments were playing the role of "friend" in this episode. Anyhow, back to Ben Franklin (any guesses as to which column this dream falls into yet?). At least...I think it was Ben Franklin...ah well it's not important.

At some point during the discussion I realized that it was a struggle to bring my arms down after I'd lift them up (like after taking a drink), to the point where I was "sitting up" to get to my glass because I couldn't bring it down to my mouth. Somewhere in my brain the connection was made that my coat was too tight (like a proper gentleman I was wearing a fancy shmancy coat) and the fabric wasn't letting me "stretch it" to bring my arms down. I dunno, apparently my dream self is 1) insane and 2) severely limited mentally. Somehow, I was able to avoid looking too strange and kept my pinky out despite an ever increasingly "tight coat." Some indeterminate amount of time passed slash the scene changed and Ben Franklin "went away." My dream didn't provide an explanation, and apparently I didn't seek one, it all makes sense, right?

Anyhow, this whole "can't put my arms down" thing was getting worse and worse and it became apparent that it had effected my legs too, and they were being held straight. Wait, did I say "held straight" that's right, at this point careful examination of my wrists showed that "something" was holding onto them inexorably racking me (at least that was my initial impression...like I said, dream me is a little exotic in his internal explanations).

Invisible force grappling with me, and binding me in a fully extended position. Totally kinky. Or fucking terrifying. Awake Marcus now sees this as a pseudeo-erotic dream (or at least how it could be interpreted as such), if it weren't for the fear I can still remember I might even believe I just have some sort of issue that needs intensive therapy. Anyhow, re-enter the friends. No, I don't know where they've been in the intervening time. Maybe they were off signing the declaration of total dependence or battling goblins, it's irrelevant. If they were battling goblins I want to help them next time instead of being assaulted by invisible forces.

Anyhow, at this point conclusions were suddenly thrust into my dream-consciousness w.o any discussion about it with the other people around me. Again, it freaks me out how that happens. Apparently, some group of (we'll use the word ghosts...although the impression I get was that it was a more environmental projection of past events) ghosts who had worked in an asylum had taken up residence and were for some reason convinced it was time for me to go to sleep and needed to strap me to my bed for the night. Ignore the logical inconsistencies with this such as 1) wtf ghosts? 2) it became apparent that this was my childhood home at this time...which was bought brand new on a subdivided farm lot, and nowhere in the vicinity has there ever been a loony bin 3) no bed was present 4) it wasn't night 5) wtf ghosts?

Anyhow, the gradual increase in pressure was, apparently, their slowly getting stronger. My friends "consoled me" for a while, as I could move less and less and apparently had to spend the night "sleeping" (despite being aware of what was going on) on the floor in the living room. Things started to get really choppy, time jumped around, and apparently I was free for a little bit and was running around trying to avoid having invisible assylum workers strap me into an equally invisible bed (on the level of the ground), doing crazy wriggle wriggle ju-jitsu. At this point it sounds pretty rollicking and fun, but it really wasn't. The whole time I'm absolutely freaking the fuck out, because wtf, ghosts? I somehow climbed on top of a china cabinet (I can still really vividly see a long cobweb stretching off towards the big windows we have at the front of the house), and it's rocking back and forth wildly (although I don't think it was the invisible people, I think I was just rocking crazily because as I said before...I was freaking out). The friend who was there "helping" ran off to get the other person (who had been wandering elsewhere or something), leaving me all alone with whatever the hell was going on. The curtains billowed and I could see the shadow/outline behind them of someone, which just served to increasingly cause my heart rate to go up and me to hyperventilate. I jumped down from the cabinet, got to the middle of the room, was jerked to a stop...

And woke up.

Holy shit. I was drenched in sweat, totally frozen solid, my heart was racing a million bpm, and my breathing was ridiculously labored and loud. Words can not describe how freaked out my body was, even though my mind pretty quickly realized where I really was...but my fight/flight was still kicked all the way up in high gear. I also realized that I'd somehow gotten both my arms above my head and they'd kind of fallen asleep making it hard to move them...probably the intial cause for the problems I had with Mr. Franklin.

The weird thing is that I immediately tried to get back to sleep and back "into" my dream, just to find out how it ended...I'm really disappointed now (despite starting to panic just rethinking of how I'd felt in the dream) that I don't know the ending. What's the point in having one of the only dreams I'll ever remember...and it doesn't even have a proper ending?!

Sorry about the wall of text, but this was really a crazy thing and I wanted to get it out there. I think I got most of it...some things I left out because they were unimportant, others because they are tangential or too "embarrassing" (for lack of a better word). I kind of want to do more of this dreaming stuff now...just no more of crazy shades of asylum workers trying to put me to sleep.

And no, I don't think this dream should be interpreted to mean that my brain thinks I need to be committed against my will. Clearly it's everyone around me who is insane, not me.

There's not really any question that zombie movies reflect left-leaning politics.

Wait, what?

I, for one, haven't really given much thought to the political leanings of zombies, or of the political ideological ramifications of zombie hunting. However, our friends on the right apparently have:

http://reason.com/blog/show/134267.html

I use "the right" in this case, not as an indication of my distaste/disapproval or whatever of conservatives. I'm using "the right" in this case to refer to the batshit insane people on that side of the spectrum.

Let me follow this argument out to the logical extent:
The "progressive" forces (scared, bleeding survivors...okay I'll consider that the proletariat for the moment) are faced with hordes of brainless shambling hordes...who are then...the...uh...also the proletariat as near as I can tell. Unless they mean Fox News watchers. In which case Romero was remarkably talented at reading the future.

However, if that's the case the elitist survivors shouldn't be smashing the shambling horde with machetes, instead they should be standing on soapboxes lecturing them and trying to "cure" them of zombieness. Solving your ideological differences by smashing people with heavy objects seems pretty reactionary to me personally.

Also, zombie movies seem to be bright shining beacons of "castle laws" and total deregulation of arms. I know when I wade through a zombie horde I'm terribly glad that my second amendment rights in this instance have been expanded to include all sorts of incendiary and explosive devices, along with an abundance of high power rifles. I might be an ivory tower elitist, but those seem like pretty right leaning political opinions to me.

Oh and abortions. Zombie movies hand out free abortions to ever 3rd ticket buyer. That might explain where they're getting this leftist flavor.

What a Republican/Democrat debate may look like:

Must...Not...Kill

Arguing with Jared Diamond fans might be one of the most futile activities ever conceived. Why oh why can't I keep my mouth shut and my indignities to myself? After all, he's only accused of what in the business is known as "making shit up" and "trying to get his informants killed." I can see why that should be brushed aside in light of his detailed *snerk* analysis of the facts. *chortle*

[edit]

After further discussion I withdraw my complaint about those who are fans of Diamond. I still stand by my opinions of the man, but people who read him aren't entirely lost causes. Now bevets on the other hand...

Leeeeroy Jenkins goes to Washington

So clearly a lot has been happening in Iran, and I (like any chairborne infantry revolutionary) have lots to say about it all.

However, I'm not quite sure where to begin at the moment, it's well into the process and is (for lack of a better word) fascinating to watch, desperate to help but impotent in the face of the realities of the situation. In D.C. the same struggle with how to balance a like minded rhetorical support for any action of "the people" and to avoid undermining the legitimacy of the movement with interference from the great satan has led to a likewise...interesting situation. To sum it up I present capitol hill as presented by Leeroy Jenkins:

Obama: "OK, we need to think this through. Hillary, you get in contact with the Swiss Embassy and see what information we can get regarding the situation on the ground. Gibbs, stall for time with the press while we work out an official statement. I'll contact Gordon Brown to discuss-"
GOP: "JOOOOOOOOOOOOOHN MCCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!"
Obama: "... ah, son of a-"

(courtesy of Mentat at fark.com)

P.S. If you don't know who leeroy jenkins is...well it's a WoW video, that was made for the lulz a long while back.

moot

So TIME has unleashed a poll onto the internet asking people to vote for the most influential people. (This isn't going to be the winner of "person of the year" mind you)

The founder of 4chan is currently winning (by a million votes at the time of this entry).

At first I was suitably shocked/disgusted at watching the /b-tards run amok on Time, and then I knowingly shook my head knowing what else would you expect from an internet poll. However, looking at the top 10 I'm not as disappointed as I thought I'd be.

Top 10:

1)moot (4chan founder)
2)Rain (Korean singer...their "Justin Timberlake" apparently and sworn enemy of Stephen Colbert)
3) Ron Paul (Ineffective political whargarbl)
4) Jon Stewart (comedian/media satirist)
5) Stephen Colbert (not as good satirist)
6) T-Pain (some producer who invented autotune to fix bad singers)
7) Morgan Tsvangirai (Ineffective opponent of Robert Mugabe about to lose his non-existant voice in Zimbabwe govt)
8) Britney Spears (has she even released an album in the last few years?)
9) Vladimir Putin (scary ass Russian KGB agent running the govt. beyond his term)
10) Arnold Schwarzenegger (yeah, the governator)

Putin is the only serious globally influential person here, Tsvangirai is really a helpless and useless voice that is ignored internationally and internally. Uhm yeah...

Jon Stewart is a semi-legitimate choice because he does occasionally put the media over the barrel and chastise them. Likewise for a significant percentage of youth do rely on the Daily Show as a source for their news intake, which is certainly a significant contribution (if not an indication of the sad level of the informed status of American youth).

It's clear that an online poll is going to skew towards the internet using audience, and going to over represent the younger and more affluent aspects of society. So who is influential to that demographic?

4chan is the originator of many many internet memes that I love dearly. Likewise it's boards do function as a true democracy (in the Greek assembly model, not our representative model). Certainly it is a bit...uhm...perverse, but that is to be expected as it is only moderated in the very slightest (removing child porn, everything else is okay). So it's kind of a wild west, but it does allow for moments of brilliance as the "collective consciousness" of the internet goes to work chasing out ideas.

Also it has porn.

So both as an example of what the internet "is," and for influencing the culture of the internet (by generating a good deal of it) there are actually worse selections among the top 10 for who actually influences the people polled...

Battle Royale

The Daily Show today had to be one of the most awkward interviews I've ever seen.

Crash course on the background: Jon Stewart made some glib remark about CNBC cheerleading the housing bubble, contributing to the hullabaloo, not seeing the impending doom and certainly not doing any investigative reporting or watch dogging about short selling, phantom shares, and all that jazz that contributed to the collapse of some banks, and the market as a whole.

Haha, stupid media.

Then CNBC (and particularly that Mad Money guy (you know: Jim Cramer, the yelling gesticulating 'buy buy buy' guy)) took offense and lobbed some insults back and Stewart. Who skewered them back (Cramer took the attack on his network, which included him, quite personally and went on a crusade or something in the media). So tonight Stewart had Cramer on the show.

Here's what happened:

Clip 1

Clip 2

Clip 3

I have trouble making it through the whole thing it's so awkward. Basically Stewart calmly rips every excuse Cramer had apart and then really exposed what a shady character he was and how he had his hands deep in the jam pot. (Bragging about doing the short selling that he claimed to be crusading against for starters)

Ick.

I think I'm going to stick with the mattress for my money...

Spleling is fro chumps!

I really hadn't intended on doing nothing but post video after video...but give me a break; class just resumed and I haven't felt particularly wordy or verbose. Enjoy this kid struggle with his most amazing challenge in the spelling bee.

Oh what a world...

Creepy

For Christmas I received many gift cards for Barnes and Noble. My extended family, meaning well, figured that now that I'm a graduate student I need more books, but (understandably) weren't going to try to navigate the waters to pick the right ones.

So I decided to purchase a couple books that I "should" have in my infant library: Squier and Davis's Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley (the first really good examination of mounds and the first Smithsonian publication) as well as Noble's Stone Age Spear and Arrow points of the Midcontinental and Eastern United States...pretty much the standard text to begin with projectile point identification. Anyhow the details of what I'm buying are immaterial.

Upon using my Barnes and Noble giftcard to purchase some books I noticed something upon reading the card no.

xxxxxx427198325 (I don't want you all using the last 10 bucks on it)

So a card, purchased from a random store, plucked from the rack, ended in my DOB and age (April 27, 1983...25 years old)...

I'm not really a conspiracy theorist or a numerologist, but that's just creepy...

Should I be scared? I know I recently went off on some scathing commentary on our former president, but how long had this conspiracy been in place to track my book purchases through the proxy of a gift from my grandparents?