The Count's Mansion

As part of the road trip to take care of things at Le Chateau au Chat Gris, we had to play the next installment of the adventure that started with the Cursed Ruins and the Cauldron of Mystery. Le Freres Corses were looking to meet with the Count who hired them to get the flask of fluid from the cauldron. I hadn't prepared anything yet, so I put something together on the fly.

Charo and Gretel arrived back at the Count's mansion and immediately discovered that it wasn't going to be as easy as provided in their Anticipation Proclamation. A mouthy guard at the gate demanded to see some ID and the Wizard Gretel obliged him by zapping the head of a statute beside the doorway. The helpful guard then offered to take the flask to the Count himself. 

Charo nearly gave him the flask--which would've resulted in a locked door and no reward for their efforts. They finally convinced the guard that they had to take it in themselves. The guard then took them inside the mansion and introduced them to Brutus, who took them to the next room and introduced them to Elmo. He took them to the next room and introduced them to Aero who sent them across the bridge over the troubled water to meet with the Count and Spearo, his personal guard.

Now that they were in the Count's chamber, they naively handed over the flask without getting payment. With flask in hand, the Count became highly uncooperative. The verbal struggle transitioned away from words to deeds when the Count ordered Spearo to employ his namesake weapon against the adventurers with extreme prejudice. As one might expect, our heroes reacted badly. In the fracas that followed, the Count proved entirely inept in using the flask against Charo and Gretel, while they proved adept at dealing with Spearo. Charo used the same zap spell he had used on the statute, and it produced permanent results on Spearo. At the latter's death, the Count became congenial and had Aero pay the heroes the promised funds with a little something extra to smooth over the misunderstanding.

Of course, once they were out of range, he rang the bell and ordered room service of the lethal variety be delivered to Charo and Gretel, and disappeared down a secret passage. They ran across the bridge, successfully passing their challenge rolls against finding the collapsing portion of the bridge. Once on the other side, Aero discharged some parting gifts--arrows--but the presence of Spearo's corpse apparently spoiled his aim. 

The adventurers fought their way out of the mansion with their skillful weapon-handling aided by Charo's fire-spraying-ring and Gretel's spells. The wizard was forced down to his last hero point to avoid a serious wound. He did find a mechanical dog, but he couldn't activate it. He also discovered a stuffed gryphon's head and a secret passage. Gretel managed to get himself trapped in the secret passage for two or three turns while Charo loosed his wrath on the wounded Aero and Brutus. Finally, they got out and dispatched the last guard at the gate. However, Charo, never one to let potential loot go unliberated--especially when the owner has tried to kill him--carried out the gryphon head. He doesn't realize it, but selling that item will lead the Count and his new, more powerful minions to the pair of adventurers.

 

 

 

Cursed Ruins Finale

We had a weekend back at the manor house to battle the green horde and other adversaries. I took the picture above on the ride home. Note I said "ride" rather than "drive." I had to retrieve the steel steed on wheels and take the long way home while my bride, after having breakfast in American, returned in the carriage via the freeway. My route took longer, but I missed the torrential downpour that attacked the unsuspecting caravans on the road more traveled.

In addition to mowing the green horde--but hold on, let me address the defense of the fortress against the horde. The cooperation of the Craftsman Warmachine is a prerequisite, based on the ancient treaty of 2012, for engaging the with the verdant enemy. The warmachine was in dire need of having its blades sharpened. Therein lies a tale. I'll be brief:

In order to sharpen the blades, I needed to remove them. To remove the blades, I needed to raise the front end of the machine to expose the killing mechanisms. To raise the front, I needed to drive it up two planks. To drive it up two planks, I needed something elevated against which I could place the planks. Although I could've carried the planks and driven the warmachine to the tailgate of the pickup, I elected to bring the mountain to Muhammed. However, the mountain wouldn't start after a year or more of sitting rooted to the landscape. Fortunately, I had the box of persuasion to attach to the mountain's battery. After a few tries, and on what I had determined was to be the very last try before Muhammed would have to do the moving, the mountain roared to life. 

There were more complications, but I realize the account of the Cursed Ruins Finale is what you're here for, so I'm leaving out the minor complications.

The sharpening went smoothly, and pursuant to the agreement of 2012 and the various addendums adopted through the years, Warmachine and I waged holy war against the emerald army. I had previously disabled the pickets of the horde with a preemptive strike with the weed eater. Two weed eaters, actually, but therein lies more complicated details involving gas, string, and the mystery of why one whirly-stringy killer thing became a conscientious objector after only five minutes of not-very-stealthy slaughter of the enemy sentries.

Anyway, we smote the green horde hip and thigh and came away with victory

Now, to the Cursed Ruins Finale:

 Behold the guardian of the Cursed Cauldron--also called the Cauldron of Mystery. Hold on, we're not there yet. When we last left our heroes, they faced two doughty foes in the Cursed Ruins and had but begun the battle when bedtime beckoned. We resumed the adventure at that point. After some missteps, Gratell II found himself wounded and attacked by one adversary with the other nearby and ready to join the assault upon his person. The wizard took a serious wound but ignored the hurt to grab his antagonist and hurl him into the other approaching meany. Both of the foes were armed with sharp steel, and in the impact of one with the other, regrettably there was an incident of friendly piercing. That pair of foes never recovered the upper hand in the fray, and Gratell and Charo dispatched these minions within the ruins. They also located a pair of treasures which healed their hurts, restored some of their heroic points, and proved crucial to their endeavor. The lantern lit the right path, revealed traps, and discerned the purpose and use of magic objects, including the ring of fire.

With an abundance of caution, our heroes entered the courtyard before the cauldron chamber. One of the guards at the chamber door spied Charo and ran at him, calling to his foul companion. Charo and Gratell made a tactical retreat, outdistancing they guards who may have been uncertain about leaving their posts at the door. Our adventurers for hire grabbed their rope and positioned themselves at opposite sides of the first doorway. They let the first creature with the spiked club pass through on the run. He bolted through, continuing through the next room. When the second guard burst through the doorway, they snagged his foot by raising the rope with perfect timing. They quickly dispatched the fallen enemy and tried to run the same trick on the other minion when he realized his error and raced back too late to help his comrade. Their timing was off, so he didn't trip, but they succeeded in quickly acquainting him with the hereafter.

Gratell used a spell to bust open the magic lock and reveal the giant smoking cauldron with its armored guardian within.

The guardian met their attack by casting a scoop of mysterious mist from the cauldron in their direction. The resulting horrible scream had Gratell backing out of the room but otherwise unharmed. When they renewed the assault, the guardian repeated the throw, dousing the heroes in darkness, but it dissipated before the guardian could get within striking distance. After a little skirmish and maneuver, Charo remembered that he had this cool new piece of jewelry emblazoned with flames. The fearless adventurers backed away to make sure the magic flames wouldn't rebound to barbecue them as well. The guardian had a chance to close the distance and expound on the wounds they had received, but he was not quick enough, and Charo (an apt name at this point) dispatched a blazing message that entirely bathed the guardian in flame. His armor was no help and the baptism by fire proved fatal.

But wait, there's more. Not only did they fill the flask with some contents of the cauldron as they were hired to do, despite the warnings, Gratell quaffed the contents. Luck was with him, and he received a benefit that I can't recall at the moment, along with a 24 hour curse on his social interactions. Charo decided to follow with a gulp of his own, receiving 3 abilities that included breathing underwater; I forget the other two. The accompanying curse causes him to go berserk for a turn whenever he takes a wound. He was less thrilled about his snootful than was Gratell. 

Next time: Getting the flask to the patron.

 

 

 

Feudal

This weekend found us back at the manor engaged in the battle with the green horde threatening the estate. After major battles with the assailants of both the chemical and mechanical nature, I found time for two other battles with one of Les Freres Corses. 

Before I address those difficult conflicts, I need to engage in some thoughts of a vain, presumptuous, and solipsistic nature. Raconteur Press posted a piece on its Substack page entitled "On Witty Dialogue Choices for Writing Noir and Hard Boiled Characters." Naturally, having had a story accepted for publication in the upcoming moggie noir anthology, Dames, Derringers, and Detectives, I had to consider the possibility, based on this line from the post ("I’m thrilled to say that at least one of the new Moggie Noir stories features a bit of wordplay that takes me back to classic exchanges..."), that my story entitled "Calypso's Count" might have inspired the post. Odds are pretty good that some other brilliant writer (of which there is no shortage at RP) penned some excellent dialogue that motivated the posting of the article. However, I won't let that likely fact dissuade me from presuming that it was my story and dialogue the article writer had in mind. 

By what right do I wedge myself into the position of praise? None, really. However, I do have reasons, if not a right. I remember doing some particular wordplay in the story--so I've got that going for my presumption. Additionally, the main characters are featured in my book Smoke, as well as the first short story I submitted to RP, "Monica on My Mind." The detective and his attractive assistant routinely engage in some pleasant badinage as part of their interaction and discussion about their cases. Finally, a couple readers have previously informed me that they loved the "witty banter" featured in these detective stories. That's the sum total of my reasoning--except for the additional fact that there's a lot of dialogue in the story; I'm hoping that at least some of it is memorable in a good way. Of course, once I read the anthology, it may become obvious that it was another gifted wordsmith who drafted the dazzling dialogue (and they no doubt avoided things like that alliterative affectation I just slipped in) and I'll have to bow my head in contrition--but until then, I'm shouting my presumption like a bevy of celebrity dames boasting about their ten minutes in space.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Le Frere Corse and I were handicapped by the other brother's illness, so we had to postpone completing the rumble at the cursed ruins. We consoled ourselves with a battle across the checkered field by armies of black and white. White made a determined attack that kept black trading pieces while seeking for an advantage. Eventually, the advantage came and the white king found himself trapped behind his own guards at the mercy of a renegade rook and a patient bishop. 

On the following evening, the illness persisted, so we pulled out the more elaborate version of the game from the night before. My old Feudal game--acquired circa 1979--provided our evening entertainment. The checkered field became a grid of holes in a countryside of white and green with armies of white and blue. Once again, white got first move. Our initial setup was hidden and we didn't know who would get the first move. I was glad I had taken defensive positions behind mountains.

He made a cautious advance. I responded by killing one of his pikemen with a sergeant. He retaliated by slaughtering the lone enemy piece in his territory. He continued to press forward with caution, but threatened my castle with an advance on his right.

We had a few skirmishes, reducing each other forces in the process, while I prepared to take the fight into his territory. I finally advanced a sergeant deep into his backfield. While he was distracted with that, I ran cavalry up the flanks to threaten his castle from the rear while advancing infantry toward the castle's side entrance. The pocket collapsed around him. He pulled back to defend his fortress, but I had enough men converging on the goal to prevent his white warriors from intervening in the assault.

He attacked everywhere and casualties left the field faster than a jet bound for El Salvador. The effort was in vain. His king slew the initial attacker, but then fell to the blue prince's lance. It was a hard-fought battle worth every plastic corpse it cost.

 

 

 

Cursed Ruins Restart

 Les Freres Corses were at it again -- the "it" in question being miniatures, dice, and the Cursed Ruins. One may recall that their first attempt at imposing their will on the denizens of the place ended rather poorly for their characters: Gratell and Charo Lefrevre. "Poorly" being, of course, a euphemism for irretrievably clenched in the jaws of defeat, despair, and certain death. The full account of that parade of horrible decisions can be found here. 

It has been a few months since we had first embarked on the adventure, so we had a quick chat about the lessons learned in that prior attempt: Don't leave your wing man, and do march to the sound of guns (or clash of steel, as the case may be).

Charo II began again by roping the ladder/drawbridge. I had added a pursuing menace to the mix and rolled a d6 at each failed attempt of a task required for getting into the ruin. When the total on the d6s exceeded 20, the menace would catch up to them. Fortunately, we only got to 16 before they were safely across the soul sucking marsh and into the sturdy stone of the ruin.

 

Les Freres demonstrated that they had learned from previous experience. They stayed together instead of running about willy-nilly for the next sparkly object. Again, the wooden treasure chest disappointed them with only dust and dead bugs this time. However, they did manage, along with the slaying of 3 goblinesque baddies, to find a healing potion and a 50 mark gem. (They elected to have the currency of the realm be "marks" as opposed to gold pieces, crowns, kroners, ducats, or dried monkey brains. (I may have added that last one; it probably wasn't actually brought up during the game). 

 Things did get pretty bad for them when they met a man on the way to St. Ives skilled creature wielding nasty twin blades. He had one for each of the heroes and served them-- Oh. I forgot. Before they met him, they met a big fighter with a shield and sharp blade with which he had a hankering to hew; and hew he did. He gave the heroes some wounds. There's no specific limit to the number of wounds a character can receive before he dies or goes hors de combat, but wounds do have consequences for movement, skills, and combat. As a practical matter, a wounded character is more likely to get more wounds or be killed in combat. Gratell II decided to consume his healing potion, but it only cured one of his multiple wounds.

Gratell II then remembered that he was a wizard and hit the big hewer with a sleep spell. The attempt met with complete success, and they delivered the coup de grace to the sleeper. It was then that they met the creature with the twin blades, and that one demonstrated his courtesy by giving each hero a hefty helping of his steel. No sluggards in the courtesy department, Charo and Gratell gave him samples of their own. However, things were looking bad for our protagonists, especially when Gratell II's dice betrayed him like a wily Shetland pony, leaving him with bite marks and hoof prints on his back. If the dice remained as rolled, he would be on his way to assuming room temperature. Fortunately, the master of this little set-to had provided our heroes with points to spend in such dire situations. Gratell II cashed in those chips to avoid cashing in his chips and saved himself from death. He was still badly wounded, but managed to stay on his feet and keep all his appendages attached.

After finally overcoming the double-stabbing dude, they ransacked the room for loot. They found a huge sapphire which glowed with a mysterious light. Gratell II had taken the first two treasures and had promised this third to Charo II--it's always a good idea to keep the guy with the shield and big sword happy and alive; both useful qualities in a meatshield when one is deep in a monster infested ruin. They had some discussion and Charo II picked it up. He found himself not only tickled, but healed of all his wounds. He was gracious enough to allow the wizard to handle the gem, and he too received the total health restoration. It looks like the gem may even have one more such restoration dose left in it if the glow is any indication.

Les Freres  sensed that they were nearing the end of the adventure (in fact, they have 3 areas left to clear) and were keen to finish, but the clock spoke with a voice of warning and we had to put it away. The final push will have to wait until we can get together again to visit the cursed cauldron and see what mysteries it may hold. (The last two areas remain hidden under the dark green cover, and the heroes are facing two enemies in the discovered-but-unentered room. Those enemies were alerted when Charo fumbled his metal mirror when looking around the doorway into the corners, and it went clanking against the stone floor).

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In the war against unwritten stories, I anticipate sending in a victory tomorrow for a publisher's consideration, and I've started a new battle in the campaign. I've also looked at logistics and decided on two or three future clashes. It's a target rich environment.

Wyrd Warfare is getting some great reviews. Pick it up while you can.

 

 

 

Cursed Ruins - beginning

 It's a tragic tale of youthful exuberance and avarice tainted by overconfidence unburdened with the requisite competence. It was the beginning of the quest for the Mysterious Cauldron within the Cursed Ruins. Our two young heroes were to find the cauldron and fill a flask from its contents. A substantial reward awaited them at the completion of the task. They won't be collecting that reward any time soon. Les Freres Corses may have learned something from the adventure. We'll see what happens next time.

Charo Lefevre or Le Favor, or something similar to that--I never got to see the spelling--teamed up with Gratell the budding wizard. Outfitted with swords, a shield, rope, and other supplies, along with 3 magic spells, the adventures passed from the village through the dark forest to the cursed ruins without incident. In order to avoid being swallowed by the treacherous mud and quicksand-like dangers of the pale green marsh, they used their rope to lasso and draw down the ladder/bridge and crossed safely into the mist-obscured ruins. They passed through room 2 into room 3 where a potion and goblin waited for them. Gratell took the potion while Charo engaged the goblin. 

Charo and goblin traded blows against one another's shields and baptized their blades in blood as well. Meanwhile, Gratell, not keen on assisting Charo in his tete-a-tete with the goblin, dashed into room 5 (below room 2) to loot the chest that was visible from the doorway. Instead of opening the treasure, the wizard found himself attacked by another goblin. In his surprise, he lopped off the goblin's head at the first pass. Charo found holes in his goblin's guard, wounding him again while Gratell discovered nothing but old rags and a dead rodent in the chest. 

Crestfallen at the results of his treasure dash, Gratell doubled down by running to room 3, passing through it into room 6 (below room 4). During this time, Charo continued his scrimmage with the first goblin. He wounded the little fiend, causing minor wounds without ever being able to dispatch his antagonist.

Gratell soon realized that he had made a grave error in racing away from his comrade to grasp at treasure and magic items. The guardian of room 6 leaped from a dark corner to engage Gratell while his cohort from room 3 rushed the wizard from behind. Set upon by two formidable opponents, one of whom wielded two deadly blades, Gratell revealed the color of his blood to both antagonists. He did manage to knock down the double-weaponed foe and put him hors de combat, but he couldn't squeeze by the enemy with the the shield who blocked the doorway. He lost more blood before finally dashing past to run back to room 2 toward his comrade in room 3.

Unfortunately for Gratell, although Charo was besting his enemy, when the goblin fled from the warrior to room 5, Charo followed, bent on ascertaining the depth of the goblin's chest with the measure of his blade. The goblin continued to forestall the deathblow, and Gratell's remaining opponent soon caught him and delivered a serious wound to the already weakened wizard that left him unconscious on the sod of the Cursed Ruins.

Charo continued his attacks on the wounded goblin, only to have Gratell's enemy charge into him with shield and sword. Although he defended himself as best he could, avoiding death by turning the fatal cuts with his own shield, cuts and gashes opened where the foe penetrated his defenses.

With the wizard down and unable to fight, cast a spell, or quaff his potion, and Charo suffering from multiple wounds and caught between two foes, Les Freres Corses hit the reset button. We closed it down and reviewed the imprudent choices they had made. Charo's player pointed out that Gratell had left Charo engaged with an enemy to race madly from room to room, bringing more monsters into the fight. Gratell's player suggested with some vehemence that Charo should've come to help Gratell rather than attempting to chase down and execute a goblin who was trying to escape. I agreed with both of them. It was a win-win--they were both right--or a lose-lose; they had both made poor decisions. Never leave your wing man, and always march to the sound of the guns or clash of swords, as the case may be.

Did they learn something? I think so. Will they implement those lessons when they next play? I'm skeptical. A couple years ago while playing Hero Quest, these same choices led to the same results. There's still hope. Some lessons must be learned multiple times before they're remembered and a change of behavior results. I should know. I'm always getting the same lessons.

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Book Reviews: Lord Byron's The Corsair and Frederic Brown's The Fabulous Clipjoint.

 The Corsair is a tale in verse about the pirate Conrad. While it has many memorable lines, the tale is predictable and the lengthy poem goes on too long. Reading it was like one of those conversations with a friend that begins with energy and laughter but ends in weary fatigue because it continued well beyond its best-by date. That concludes what I have to say on that topic.

The Fabulous Clipjoint was recommended as a great example of pulp fiction. A young man's father is murdered after a night out drinking. The wife, young man's step mom, is a heavy drinker and a something of a scold. Her daughter also resembles bad medicine in a pretty bottle. Young man finds his uncle, a carnival worker, and they set out to catch the murderer. I picked the killer early and was not deceived. However, the whole motive and method weren't revealed until the end.

Clipjoint reads like a noir without the personality and conventions that make noir detective stories so fun to read. This pulp novel is like fried chicken and mashed potatoes without anything to go with them. It's tasty and filling but needs another side and a dessert. All the components are impressive: a murder mystery, young man with some competence but lacking experience with a mentor to guide him, a few suspects, some mob connections, the wife with a motive and her potentially poisonous daughter, an attractive woman to strike the young man's fancy, a bank robbery, a police detective with malleable scruples, seedy bars, and a string of clues that direct and misdirect. Nevertheless, there remains a lacuna I cannot place. It earned the four stars I gave it, but I had hoped to be able to give it 5.

 

 

Whim of the White Wizard

 

 We traveled back to the homestead on the other side of the state. Les Freres Corses were expecting me. They had dice. They had plans. After the writing (I finished the motorcycle travel story and got it to my team), mowing, weeding, watering, eating, and watching The Lego Movie, we got down to business.

 

 Behold the business. It took a little while to decide on a time period. One chose western, another chose medieval. The western figures were not on site, so we went medieval, sort of. With some orcs, men of Gondor, a white wizard, and some Star Trek figures and sets, we began. Oh, and there was the symbiote. With a body of red wax and legs of black plastic, it had a short move but was powerful in combat; if it struck a blow in combat the recipient had to make a roll against a new symbiote sprouting from his blood. 

McCoy, Scotty, Chekov, and a redshirt had been chased through a portal by klingons or other would-be assailants. They arrived in this land of orcs, warriors, and a wizard. How the symbiote got there, only the K-man knows. It began with Scotty trying to communicate with an orc figure, which represented a simple but armed medieval human, about the predicament and whether he could direct them to a device that might help them in their quest to return. The armed citizen was nonplussed, refraining from all mathematical actions. So Scotty got nowhere.

Meanwhile, the symbiote made its way to another armed citizen and attacked, seriously wounding its target. The citizen passed his hors de combat check as well as his morale check, not being infected by the attacker.

While the boys from the Federation continued to solicit help from the natives, the symbiote struck again. It would be its last strike. The citizen dealt the strange creature, who was no man born of woman, a fell and fatal blow. K-man joined me by taking over Scotty and Chekov. 

The great moment of truth came when the redshirt encountered the white wizard and sought his help. Of course, Star Fleet men couldn't know that the white wizard was the most powerful figure in the mix, having three dire powers contained within his staff: levitate, lightning, and enchant with super strength or super speed. When questioned, the wizard played coy, delaying his response. Would he help the space men and convince the natives to cooperate in the quest? After sufficient delay to build dramatic tension, RC decided the white wizard would lend his abilities to helping the federation's finest rather than thwarting their efforts. 

McCoy's tricorder located the device that would program the portal to allow them to return to the proper place and time about the same time that the wizard declared the location to the redshirt. The problem came when they tried to approach the device. Even though the wizard had endowed McCoy and the redshirt with super speed, all was not well. Plot complication. The device was located on holy ground. The native citizens, all of whom were armed, could not allow the strangers to intrude on the sacred turf. The natives remained calm but protective, and the Star Fleet men resisted the urge to stun them all into submission and do as they pleased. 

The white wizard had neither personal qualms nor prime directive to restrict him. He had powers and RC wanted to use them. He thought levitating one of the locals and tossing him into the teleportation platform would convince the rest of them to cooperate. I don't know what a pair of teleportation platforms were doing in a medieval setting; I asked but didn't get a comprehensible answer. Anyway, with one citizen teleported to the far corner of the board, the natives still remained determinedly undecided--if that's possible. Every challenge roll they did came up to maintain their protective position, neither advancing nor retreating.

Scotty and McCoy had an epiphany. One of the natives had been terribly wounded, a pool of blood forming at his feet. They approached to offer him aid. He accepted the offer, and McCoy's dice came up roses, or an eight and two sevens, or something like that, resulting in a complete and miraculous recovery by the native. 

Strangely enough, the healing softened the citizens' attitude a little, which was fortunate, because McCoy's tricorder indicated that time was running out. They had only 8 minutes to get to the machine, reprogram it, and get back through the portal before it was everlastingly too late. The natives had not yet parted a path for the Federation when the white wizard flexed his magical muscle by levitating McCoy over their heads to the device. 

The good doctor must have been packing Spock's Katra, or perhaps he had a timely logic attack, because he successfully reprogrammed the device on the first try. In true TOS fashion, they raced for the portal and got through with only seven seconds to spare before the credits rolled. Even the redshirt survived! The Star Fleet weapons remained unused the entire time. Had the white wizard chosen differently, who can tell how it might have ended?

As the space men escaped through the portal, the wizard levitated and shocked a few citizens just to remind them of how lucky they were to have him among them.

 

A Timely Rescue

 

 Les Freres Corses finally completed the level--I forget the number, but it was the one with the dragons and glitches. Unfortunately, the time traveling DeLorean was killed in combat with a dragon or some other mean beastie and our heroes had to be rescued. Darth Vader was hors de combat with a plethora of wounds.

Even though the transportation was too kaput to travel, there remained enough power to send a signal to another ship for rescue. The dice rolls proved favorable and the signal was sent; there was a ship in the area; and it was able to respond in time. I suggested that we roll for the possibility that the responding ship could be an enemy or slaver ship, but the objections prevented checking on that possibility. As seen in the picture above, they all piled into the rescue ship (some had to be carried) and blasted off to the next level where the DeLorean undergoes repairs while they gather some valuable metal necessary to complete the resurrection of the time traveling transport.

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The bugmageddon novel is complete--the first complete draft, that is. At 50K I guess it's a longer novella--and about 10K more words than I was targeting. I'm also locked and loaded for my presentation at the upcoming Writers Cantina. 

I did finish The Escape from Elba: The Fall and Flight of Napoleon 1814-1815 by Norman Mackenzie. It's the only book I've read about the Emperor's sojourn on and escape from Elba. Although there was a fair amount of seemingly insignificant detail, overall it was excellent. I enjoyed the account of Napoleon's time there and the fantastic escape and march to Paris. I've read other accounts of the return to Paris, but they lacked the specifics included by Mackenzie. The escape from Elba might easily have been thwarted by better surveillance on the part of the British, and Louis XVIII made all the best decisions for hastening Bonaparte's return. The status of Napoleon as "King of Elba" versus "prisoner of the allies" and the failure of the allies to honor the Treaty of Fontainbleau complicated by the Congress of Vienna and various secret treaties is a fascinating subject. Many years ago I read an excellent book (probably no longer in print) about the Congress of Vienna. I wish I knew the name of it. Anyway, there are great story possibilities in all this.
 

 

Glitches and Dragons

 

The picture is of the new terrain/beasts Les Freres Corses have established as the next level of their game. Perhaps some additional information is in order. The pale blue strip with the black things in it is a river full of black leeches. It's in the bottom of a canyon (as represented by the brownish sides. The green in the upper left hand corner is the fertile ground where one glitch (a new creature represented by a miniature from the Army of the Dead from LotR), a few goblins, and a transparent with some young reside. Most of the action happens in the pink zone, which also has a glitch, dingos (represented by warg figures), goblins, 2 trolls, longrads (represented by the pens), and two dragons (smaller dinosaur figures with duct tape for wings--and not to be confused with the enormous T-Rex figure partially visible on the right). The T-Rex is an NPC recruited by one of the freres from 2 levels back. During the most recent turn, T-Rex was slain by that dragon among the longrads (but I suspect the frere will get it resurrected on the next level). In other casualties, Derek McCau took a goblin arrow through the throat and crossed over the transient threshold of mortality (he'll probably be back next level as well), and Darth Vader failed a morale check and ran all the way back to the DeLorean to find his courage and heal his wounds.

The small white paper tank at the very top is actually the DeLorean in which the gang travels from level to level. In the previous level it was fueled by longrad eggs to make the jump. The protagonists--Darth Vader and friends (in addition to T-Rex and the late Mr. McCau), who include Steel McCat (yes, we keep making that joke), Eldon Zyrax, along with a transparent and its offspring (the latter two both still in the DeLorean)--are tasked with slaying a dragon and all the goblins to complete the level. There may also be a side quest that I don't recall. I'm only there to provide occasional sound effects, roll dice for monsters, and assure that there's some semblance of regularity to the play. In fact, the big accomplishment for this level was getting one frere to limit his free move to an objectively measurable distance--previously the free move ability had completely swallowed the movement rule and allowed him to move Darth Vader as far as he wanted while he counted out seven seconds; in other words, he could move pretty much wherever he wanted. We're making progress in small increments and having fun along the way.

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In writing news: Today I received notice of acceptance on an another short story--this time in an anthology. You may depend on me to talk more about it when the publication comes out in the very near future. I still have another story out there that I believe has been accepted (if so, it would make 3 for the year), but nothing definitive has been provided, and the publication for which it was submitted has been delayed at least twice.

I didn't get as much writing done as I had hoped on book 6 of the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series because of other responsibilities, but what I did write was great. These last chapters are full of tension and action involving fire, ice, tomahawks, knives, spears, and gunpowder--to name some particular elements. It's only the title that eludes me. I came very close to adopting one, but it just didn't seem right. I also just finished Richard III, and there were some quotes I liked, but I had already decided that only the first three books would have titles taken from Shakespeare quotes, so I'm looking to Thomas Paine, John Adams, or some other founder or character in the series to speak the appropriate title.

Here's a clue about the short story:

Tussle in the Tavern and off to Land of the Dinosaurs

 The tavern after the first meteor strike:

 You may recall from this entry that Les Freres Corses had commandeered my tavern set for their game. The photo above is how things looked when we ended after the first meteor strike. I say "first" meteor strike, because when we resumed play the time was again set and a second meteor crashed into the board. The tavern comprises one-quarter of the board. The first meteor struck the quarter by the front door and the associated devastation was thoroughly disclosed in that previous post. 

The second meteor crashed to earth next to the north side of the tavern (to the right of the picture). The building took some serious damage with part of the north wall, including the stairway, collapsing. A section of the roof also fell into the tavern. It was havoc amok and a torrent of saving throws. Ultimately, the Darth Vader figure sprang to the back of the large healer bird beneath the chandelier, swung from the chandelier to the balcony, and punched in the code to open the door that would release them all to the next level. However, the damage to the building had jammed the door. Eventually he got the door open and the quickening to the next level occurred. 

The next level: Land of the Dinosaurs

 The emphasis is on dinosaurs. After we had about eight or ten dinos and the small forest with the giant spiders, I suggested that would be plenty for them to deal with--especially when the combat ability of each dinosaur far exceeded that of the characters. As usual, my wisdom was ignored or rather translated in their minds as, "We need way more dinosaurs. Let's use them all." They would have used them all, but they ran out of space on the board. So Eldon Zyrax, Derek McCau, Darth Vader, and somebody Corro (pronounced like sorrow) must search the savage lands for the key to the DeLorean so that they can go "Back to the future," as RC says dramatically with a pointing finger.

The characters are outlined in blue in the photo. Now that we've played an hour or more, each one of them has been killed by a dino and they've had to make saving throws and do pushups or dips to get a new life at the cost of some of the abilities the character had acquired. Now the K-man is suggesting that they may have chosen too many dinosaurs. Experience teaches more completely than wise guidance.

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In Book 6 of the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series, I've just completed chapter 11. One side in the battle has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, and it remains to be seen whether the defeated side may save the remainder of its bacon--figuratively speaking. It was great fun. There are few feelings nicer than having written an exciting chapter filled with character insights with the fog of battle thinning here and there to reveal individual struggles amid the carnage.

Before you can read book 6, you'll want to read Book 5, Truth in Flames. Click on the image to get it.

Is There No Hope?

The Patriot Cause is in jeopardy. The commander’s minions and King George’s troops are victorious on all fronts.

Can Lucette save Washington and his army? Will Alex be able to stand against Roberts’ devastating new weapon? Iago and Atu confront old enemies and encounter new ones. Rip and Antonio must help in a crucial mission to save the Cause.

Join them in the fight for a new nation.

Tumble in the Tavern

 

 

 “Now we’ll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer’s gang. Everybody that wants to join has got to take an oath, and write his name in blood.” -- Mark Twain -- The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

We didn't write our names in blood--not our own, that is--but we did have a dangerous band, an unruly gang who lived and died by the roll of the dice.

Les Freres Corses made a visit. We began with getting some skills for their man cards. We began with learning to pop the hood. They had a difficult time finding the hood release, but located the dipstick (the one under the hood) and the oil-fill easily. They each got to check the oil on a vehicle and add a little of the lubricant. RC also got to add some water to the radiator. They should get bonus points for the quick lesson on making a funnel.

With the man card punched for the day, we convened around the kitchen table to resume the rip-roaring showdown between figures from Star Wars, Barsoom, Middle-earth, and common household items endowed with sentience and particular powers. When we started this level of the adventure, I introduced them to saving throws and chandelier swinging--the chandelier being an element of the tavern layout.

We played a short while with nothing beyond the usual movement and combat. Then RC moved the Darth Vader figure up the stairs in a retreat from the transparent. The latter is a fairly powerful creature they developed and which is represented on the board by the translucent plastic piece from inside the cover of Old Spice deodorant. Two other adventurers, Eldon Zyrax and Derek McCau (or is it McCow?) (both Middle-earth elf figures) soon joined the dark lord on the stairs. It was at this point that the game took a turn into the chaotic fun zone. 

RC didn't think the golden turtle (a turtle key chain) should attack his Darth Vader figure; he thought it should attack the goblins guarding the doors on the balcony. After some delay and some debate, we settled it with a die roll -- because letting the dice decide is always more exciting than simply getting what you want. K-man has bought into the die-roll-decision paradigm, but RC has been resistant to the concept. RC took the dice in hand and cast them into the hallowed hollow were all dice rolls must occur to be valid. It couldn't have gone worse for RC The result was that the golden turtle attacked DV. RC took it like a man.

When DV lost the combat so badly that the cold grip of death enclosed him--what with the golden turtle being the boss beast and most powerful on the board, with the possible exception of the blinders (who don't even have a figure or object to represent them), I reminded them of saving throws in this extraordinary situation. K-Man wanted to know what was extraordinary about it. The imminent death of a player character satisfied him. DV didn't quite make the saving throw, but his life was spared. He tumbled down the stairs with a wound or two and bounced off the transparent who was battling blinders or something there. Once we had the sith lord on his back, we realized he would have smashed into Eldon Zyrax and Derek McCau. They had to make saving throws and one of then also went head-over-heels down the stairs, taking an injury in the process. 

As soon as we had the rumble and tumble on the stairs resolved, the meteor hit. K-man had me set the time for 30 minutes when we started play. The timer went off and they made a saving throw to see if the meteor struck, or went on by. It struck. We rolled to see which quadrant of the board was absolutely devastated by the impact. The meteor crashed just outside the tavern, destroying a separate building there, blocking the other quadrants from access to the tavern, flinging a hunk of the edifice into the tavern and up to the balcony, and completely blocking the entrance to the tavern with debris and earth. But wait, there's more. 

 A tremendous shock wave burst from the meteor impact. Every figure, except those already prone at ground level had to make a saving throw or be flung to the ground with an injury. Most of them did pretty well. K-man rolled for most of them--with one of his figures being among those who failed the throw. Additionally, everyone on the balcony had to save against the huge hunk of building that had been flung there. Finally, the tavern itself was in peril but it made its saving throws so that no part of the establishment came crashing down to bury the occupants.

Following the explosive havoc of the meteor crash, some goblins leaped from the balcony to swing from the chandelier. One of them carried a long spear and failed his first, second, and third rolls, falling from the chandelier, tossing his spear up into the air in the process, and having the sharp pointy follow him down to nail him to the hardwood like a bug in a display case. It was fabulous.

All the player characters were down and wounded, but we were out of time and will have to hope to play out the conclusion another day.

 

 

 

 

I may have to work this into a cover for book 6 in the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series. It captures some of the excitement in chapter 5. I'm still in chapter 6, but the cataclysm that is chapter 5 reminded me of some important turning points in the series.

The tower fight chapter of Threading the Rude Eye changed everything that followed. It led to Lucette's increased importance and set up the sequel to that fight in Clamorous Harbingers. Another critical point that profoundly influenced the rest of the story was a struggle in the snow involving Akira, Alex, and Roberts. The Awesome Train blew its whistle and pounded right through what I had planned, bringing terrible consequences for the central characters. I think Power to Hurt and Truth in Flames were free of violent, story-transforming events in that the events and characters adhered to the main plan--which was already at def=con level Phenomenal. Oh, I almost forgot. The whole Iago thread in Promise of Carnage and Flame was supposed to be a much smaller part of the whole story. The tone of that thread also dramatically changed from conception to words on the page. I had actually pictured the Wanadaga as much more malicious. The whole thread became a starring role for the little man with a deep dive into his backstory and setting him up for the crucial role he would play in Truth in Flames. 

Let me just say that I am utterly gobsmacked by the way the story has come together so far. Writing chapter six has been fabulously stimulating too--even though all the characters are conforming to the behavior I had planned for them.

There are a couple reasons that I'm still writing chapter six at a time when I should be on chapter 12. First, I had to write/edit a couple short stories for consideration in anthologies. Second, I've been inducted into the cast of a play at the local theater. Play practice slices right through my established writing time. 

_________

Today I got a call two hours before church started. A Sunday School teacher had fallen ill and couldn't teach her class. I snapped into action and called another teacher who had wanted a chance to teach again. She was prepared--but was already teaching the other class for a teacher who was out of town. I was reluctant to call someone else without more notice, so I tapped myself for the job. It was another great experience. I'm sure the throng of class members with pitchforks and torches at the end was purely done in jest.

The Corsican Brothers came by Saturday. They commandeered the tavern with the balcony, stairs, rail, and chandelier, which I had created for a musketeers scenario, and filled it with goblins, leeches, eagles, a white ape, a few other figures from Middle Earth, Star Wars, and Barsoom for use as the next level in their ever evolving game. One of the brothers has succeeded in co-opting the spells from HeroQuest for his character's use and abuse.I did introduce them to the idea of a saving throw. I expect that concept to come up again for abuse the next time they play. The important thing is that they're having a good time, using their imaginations, and applying themselves to a modicum of reading and writing to keep the adventure going and the numerous characters and monsters straight.

 

 

 

It was a Saturday, a day like any other day. I was in a small town, and the boys had come to play. It was my destiny. It's what we needed to do. They were telling me. I'm telling you.*

The Corsican Brothers came. They came to play. We led off with HeroQuest, which my wife had purchased for our family back in the early 90's, I guess. They were actually anxious to play what we've come to call Our Custom Game, but I persuaded them to try this game first to expose them to a new game system.

The thing about playing with the Corsican Brothers, is that there is an actual playing time of about 15-20 minutes for every 2 hours dedicated to the proposition. It all begins with a brief explanation of the rules. Of course, that brief explanation is expanded into a lengthy discussion about various aspects of play and the rules because: "Why?" Moss was particularly interested in the spells used in the game and why the wizard got three sets and the elf only got one set, and how they worked. He was particularly taken by one which allowed a person to pass through solid rock and another that allowed one to become mist and pass through enemies. We burned a lot of time throughout the session as he returned to question how that would work and why one would be trapped forever if he ended his move inside solid rock. 

Anyway, you may be able to glean a bit of their style of play from the photo of game board above. After carefully explaining that they had the greatest chance of success if they stayed together to help each other against the potential opponents, they immediately split the party. They opted to go about opening as many doors as they could find. If you look closely at the board, noting that their characters are the red figures, you can see that they are spread out and are all being attacked by bad guys. The big bad boss of the dungeon level has also been discovered. Now he can chase down the scattered adventurers and kill them individually. 

They did not get to taste the bitter fruit of their strategy because the ladies returned from doing their errands and such, and we had to put it away.

Their time with HeroQuest did bear fruit later when they came back for dinner and birthday cake. After the dinner, Roy drafted me into a game of chess. Following the clash on the checkered arena, in which it was determined that two knights and a rook were sufficient to topple a king, they insisted on playing Our Custom Game.

They took complete control in setting up the game, finding and placing monsters and men, and writing notes for the movement, combat, and other abilities of the pieces involved. Thus continued the adventures of Darth Vader and Eldon Zyrax or Eldon Zyron (I can't remember the name exactly). The two adventurers joined the longrad, the golden turtle, the black leeches, the Alien Scouts, the goblins, the trans, the Healer, the CPUs, the biome, and the building that might-or-might-not-be solid rock.

Did you catch that last one? You may be able to guess who wanted to incorporate the spells from HeroQuest into Our Custom Game. He knew what he wanted and pursued it. One of the Alien Scouts had the water spells. Moss made a beeline for that enemy and successfully resisted a sleep spell to slay the guy and pry the magic spells from his cold dead hands.

The picture here is how things looked when it was time for them to go. We always leave the game setup so that we can resume it when they next return.

Eventually, I'll let them see the D&D books; the Monster Manual will have them ecstatic.

*Yes. It's a song reference twisted to my own purposes. See Foreigner--"Long, Long Way from Home," first verse.

______________________

Those of you who subscribe to the newsletter know I that I attended a funeral this week (Oops, I guess you don't. Even though I've written the newsletter, it doesn't go out for a few more days). My biggest fan wants me to include a character based on the dearly departed in a sequel to The Shrinking Zone. Of course, that's a fabulous idea, and one that I anticipated he would suggest. We shall see.

 

Once in a while I'll stumble across a show that has all the ingredients for an effective and entertaining story, only to have the story fall apart completely, and become entertaining for all the wrong reasons. This week, or maybe last week, my wife and I discovered a glistening little gem on Netflix that held a Pandora's box of awfulness. One trope after another punched the viewer with giant, clown boxing gloves, delivered with all the finesse of a drunk tap-dancer with his shoelaces tied together.

This PG or PG-13 movie purported to be a mystery based upon a book written by a famous mystery author. The story line goes like this: Famous mystery writer goes to see her sister. The sister has always played second fiddle to mystery writer. Sister is now a high school teacher who hides a secret life as an online d*****trix. Said life consists of dressing in leather and masks while cracking a whip and shouting, "Say it!" Sister is also initiating a custody battle, now that she has her life back together. She has gathered info on her ex that implicates him in some serious white collar crime. 

Mystery writer meets next door neighbor, a police detective who recently solved a well-known case. Detective also has at least one of writer's books, and he's in the middle of a home remodel. There is an instant connection between detective and writer--at least in the script--but the chemistry between them seems more like that of oil and water. Not to worry, writer will dominate him--and absolutely everyone else in the show--before...well, let me explain the rest of the setup.

Sister is murdered after completing one of her special online sessions while writer is over at detective's house. Writer enters moments after the crime. She finds the body, apparently makes sure that sister is dead, and then stumbles down the stairs and out of the house to collapse in a blubbering heap, crying that her sister is dead. Detective sees her and goes to the body. Writer follows and suggests that sister may still be alive--which seems weird after moments earlier having declared her dead. Sister is not alive.

Now that we've seen how the mystery writer--who is well steeped in crime and murder--has a soft and vulnerable side, she becomes the d'trix for the rest of the movie. She dominates absolutely everybody. She is better at everyone else's job than the actual professionals. One of the first people she dominates (after the detective) is detective's boss. Of all the people in this movie, I felt the worst for detective's boss. She's a strong woman (as are all the women in this show--only the men are weak and pliable things) who is the master of her department. She objects to mystery writer's involvement until writer explains that she has keen insight into the criminal mind. Boss immediately caves. From that point on, boss' only function is to tell everyone else that she agrees with mystery writer. Boss has completely lost the ability to form independent thought; she can only parrot the thoughts of mystery writer.

The boss of the online company for which sister did her whip and leather lessons is also headed by a strong woman. Only she and two weak men have access to the database of the identities of the d'trixes. As you might guess, one of those weak men has spilled some information to  his cousin who works at the school where sister taught. One or two other online ladies are killed in a fashion similar to how the sister was killed. Another escaped death and wounded the attacker's arm.

It's during the investigation that we see two important things: First, either the author of the book, or whoever did the adaptation for the movie has an uncanny ability to write bland and uninteresting dialogue. I mean, third graders write better dialog than what goes on in this stain on celluloid. Second, neither the detective nor anyone else knows how to interview witnesses or suspects (nor are they able to get search warrants). After some quick questions by the trained professionals that get nowhere, mystery writer swoops in to understand and dominate the interviewee. She asks the one question that gets the vital information. She does everything but say, "Step back boys, and let me show you how it's supposed to be done." In all fairness, this isn't all that unusual in the mystery genre. The amateur may followup with some insightful questioning that the professional didn't do. In this case, the professionals are particularly inept, and there's an implied, "Look at me!" or trumpet fanfare after each interview. The execution of the trope in this show is among the most maladroit I have seen.

Another strong woman we get to meet is a senator. She may be the only woman who is almost as bad as sister's ex. Sister's ex is of course the prime suspect, and writer is insistent that he is the killer for a while. No one watching the movie will fall into the "the ex did it" trap. It really comes down to two suspects. My wife picked the killer right off. I suspected the other suspect at first, until I found out about the senator. All the pieces came together then, but the fake suspect did show up with a wound on his arm to lend credence to my initial hypothesis. However, he had another secret which absolves him of any sin in the eyes of modern Hollywood.

Finally--and we all saw this coming from the opening--mystery writer must don the leather to lure the killer into a trap. I almost forgot: Along the way, writer also got to punch sister's ex in the face--because that's what strong women do; they dominate everyone in every way. So anyway, she's doing the domination thing online. The cops manning the trap think they've already got the perp, and abandon the trap. As we knew would happen, the murderer thus catches writer alone. They do the fightey-fight with writer still leathered-up. Detective rides in on his Shetland pony to prove that although he is incapable, in spite of his training and experience, of asking meaningful questions, investigating, or carrying on any sort of interesting conversation, he can shoot. He does, and there's another body for the meat wagon. Case closed.

I may have ruined the plot for you, but it is secondary to the box of unintentional horrors that constitutes this movie. Besides, I'm not going to give you the name of the thing. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about--you're nodding in agreement as you laugh about having wasted more than an hour on the thing. If you haven't seen it, once you've hit play, you'll find yourself in the Vietnam of  movies. You know you should stop and back away, but you can't seem to do it. There's always another trope stumbling at you in grotesque face paint and sequins. It's one train wreck after another. It's like watching NASCAR with a massive pileup on every lap. I have to stop before my similes and metaphors rise up and stage a coup.

_________________

In lighter news, the two boys to whom I used to refer as RC and K-man were here today. I say "used to," because I've settled on new nicknames for these Corsican brothers: Moss and Roy. If you know these two, and know the reference, you'll know who is who.

The highlight of the get together was the war of the dinosaurs. We made up a game which pitted a jug of plastic dinosaurs against one another. Each side had ten or fifteen terrible lizards and one super dino. Roy had the gigantic T-Rex. Moss had the ptremendous pterodactyl. Also, we had artillery. Don't ask me to explain it. We just wanted to throw balls at dinosaurs. Unfortunately, I didn't get any pictures. 

Moss started the game with artillery fire. Roy advanced his lizards. Roy had good luck with the ground attack, inflicting heavy casualties on his advance up the center and on the flanks. He said that's what you had to do. You had to have a center and two flanks. Moss did some damage with artillery attacks, but not much. Roy's attempts at artillery attacks were less effective. Moss finally sent ptremendous pterodactyl into the breach. He cleared a path up the center. Roy brought monster Rex up to counter. It all came down to the battle of the behemoths. They decided that for a battle this important and with such massive foes, the fight should have three rounds. Moss won the first round. Roy won the second. The third ended with Moss taking the two dino-kings and showing the animation of the fight which resulted in the pterodactyl smiting the ruin of the T-Rex upon the carpet in both fast and super slo-mo action. It was a fun time.

 

The power of the One Ring was indeed formidable. From the moment the fiends of Moria splintered the massive doors to Balin's Tomb, RC began to consider the possibility of having Frodo put on the ring. RC controlled Gandalf, Aragon, and Frodo. K-man controlled the other members of the fellowship. Big-K ran the forces of Moria. The outlook wasn't brilliant for the fellowship nine that day. In the dark mines of Khazad-dum they're trapped and know the cave troll comes.

Big-K evaluated the fellowship and sensed the danger in Legolas' bow. The elf could shoot twice with one action, or shoot once for an increased level of damage. The K-man called this the "mega-arrow" option. The goblins managed to put two arrows into the blonde Barbie-man, but the wounds were not serious. Aragorn managed to heal the elf before the action got too intense. The halflings stayed to the rear, but eventually Big-K, realizing that he could win by killing any four of the fellowship sent scurvy minions who had entered on the flanks to attack the half-pint skulkers. Once again, RC wondered if the situation had become desperate enough to have Frodo slip the ring onto his finger. I told him the situation was not desperate. He thought that it might be, but refrained for the time being. 

As events continued, RC had Gandalf cast a light spell to annoy the attackers and put them at a disadvantage in combat. Shortly thereafter, Big-K rolled the trigger for the cave troll to enter. Amazingly, RC succeeded in getting Gandalf to cast a manipulate spell on the creature. He had the brute turn against the smaller fiends. Everyone anticipated great havoc among the attackers when the cave troll would seize, smash, and bash the imps of Moria. That anticipation withered like a tender sprout in an inferno when the fellowship fumbled that piece of fantastic fortune with a terrible toss to return control to the bad guys. 

New waves of attackers streamed across the broken fragments of the chamber doors, bringing darkness and nothing more. The cave troll, now free of the spell, strode forward with chain and spear, wearing terror and radiating fear. Gimli wrought stern work with double axes to slaughter goblins. Boromir slew a minion or two. Sam and Frodo with Merry's help surprised the pair of goblins who dared test their skill. Legolas put shafts through a couple as well. RC thought that perhaps now was the time for Frodo to slip into invisibility by using Sauron's trinket, but he held off when he understood that doing so carried the very slight risk that Frodo would fall under Sauron's control--and the game would be lost, along with all of Middle Earth.

The cave troll waded in--right into another of Gandalf's spells. The wizard put a hold spell on the monster. The fellowship kept the initiative. The full-sized warriors stabbed it with their steely knives, but they just couldn't kill the beast--you know, Hotel Moria, you can cry out any time you like, but you can never leave. They inflicted many wounds on the troll, but his Durable Plus attribute prevented him from succumbing to the attacks. Legolas countered the troll's special attribute with a "mega-arrow." K-man went through his ritual of choosing his two dice. He put them together with the sixes toward him before taking them in cupped hands. He licked his lips. He began shaking the dice, as he always did, right up to the point that the numbers were about to fall from the cubes. He cast the bones for a paltry sum. He spent one of his remaining special points to re-roll one die. The result proved but mediocre. Legolas' attempt proved bootless--not doubt he was distracted, thinking about that Lothlorien Leaves and Lembas Shampoo commercial he had scheduled for next week.

The fellowship had the upper hand. The cave troll had been sorely wounded. The Moria imps were dying by the score, but RC thought he needed something more. He deemed the situation to be desperate. The weight of the ring grew heavy upon him. He moved Frodo toward the cave troll. No cowering halfling here. He would bring the fight to the beast. He meant to strike a blow for the shire, to bring honor upon all the hobbits and their countrymen. However, he had been warned that Big-K would direct the cave troll to attack Frodo. He took precautions. It's tough to fight someone you can't see. Frodo could fight RC's will no longer. Frodo put on the ring. RC took up the dice and shook them round and round for the fate of nine travelers and the whole of Middle Earth. He shook and shook while Sauron's eye scanned the land from shore to shore. When the speckled bones came to rest upon the blood-stained floor, Sauron's eye pierced the chamber door. When would the fellowship escape the mines? Quoth the cave troll, "Nevermore." Somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout. But there was no joy for the fellowhip--mighty RC had struck-out. He snatched defeat from the jaws of victory giving control of the ring to Sauron.

Even though good lost in the worst possible way, we still had a good time. Evil was not dismayed at all. RC seemed unconcerned that he had contributed to the mass enslavement of all of Middle Earth to the dark lord. He was imagining what the next adventure would bring.

 

The Corsican Brothers were here at the Chateau du Chat Gris for Thanksgiving. The K-man got to help light (reluctantly) the final batch of coals I used to finish off the turkey. The bird turned out great, by the way, with a light smoke and orange flavor. It may have been as good as the turkey I smoked last year.

Following the gratitudinal repast, the four-wheeler refused all entreaties. It could not be persuaded, cajoled, or prodded into service. Instead, we enjoyed a rousing game that I made up on the spot. RC wanted to play a game with the Star Trek figures, and K-man manifested boundless enthusiasm for the idea as well. With five figures, a hunk of rigid insulation for a game board, homemade scenery and obstacles that consisted of a ruin, a big rock (played by an actual rock) a few trees and a wooded area, and the Guardian portal from The City on the Edge of Forever which came with some of the figures, along with several six-sided dice, some bottle caps and red wax, we sat down to the table to play. I should say that I sat down. The boys remained standing, moving about, and hopping with excitement. 

The visiting team included both Federation and Klingon crewmen. The home team consisted of two carnivorous dinosaurs, and a giant spider. It seems that the joint mission of frequent enemies had troubles with their small craft and had to land to effectuate repairs. While working to fix the problem, one crewman was bitten by a venomous creature. The venom didn't kill him, but sent him into a delirium and he leaped through the strange stone portal with a crucial part of the vessel. The rest of the team followed to find themselves in a strange new environment. Their mission required the crew to find the missing part, and to rescue the crewman who had gone unconscious, all while avoiding the unfriendly denizens who sought to make a meal of them. 

The game was complicated by the fact that RC insisted on adding more monsters/plot complications, and also a creature that wandered about according to his desires dispensing unsolicited healing. The Corsican Brothers had their men spread out for a more effective search. One Klingon bravely faced off with a dinosaur--and finished the game right there as a terrible lizard lunchable. 

One crewman took a wound in battle with a dinosaur; he escaped. Another red shirt made the dinner menu for a dinosaur, but the remaining crew escaped with the missing part and the passed-out crewman. A late arrival (one of RC's plot complications) tested his phaser on a dinosaur and found the results entirely satisfactory. I think the fact that most of the Star Trek figures were from the "Day of the Dove" episode, and carried swords rather than phasers or disruptors, is why the Corsican Brothers didn't think to try ranged weapons before they had already fed two comrades to the beasts. The giant spider did get in on the action, but neither took nor delivered any wounds.

In short, the Corsican Brothers and I had a great time with our little game. The chance to take a second or third action tempted the boys early in the game, but they began to see that the gamble usually brought unfavorable results. They stopped taking the gamble until the race to the portal at the end. After some close calls and frustrating die rolls, the K-man made it to safety with the crucial part, and RC carried off the unconscious crewman.

***

In other news, I'm working on the cover for The Shrinking Zone. Here are two possibilities for your consideration. I'm probably going to explore more font/color options for the title. 

Let me know if you think one is more appealing than the other for a novel categorized as a dystopian domestic thriller. It's a fanfare for the common man featuring action and adventure in a dystopian setting.

Here are some quotes I've included in the Author Foreword of the novel:

“May the Freedom and Independency of America endure until the Sun grows dim with age, and this Earth returns to Chaos.” –Toast given at a Massachusetts tavern in 1776 following the reading of the Declaration of Independence

“Show me that age and country where the rights and liberties of the people were placed on the sole chance of their rulers being good men, without a consequent loss of liberty?” –Patrick Henry

“They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.” –Patrick Henry

Get your copy of The Shrinking Zone in December.