D'oril lore: the recent past

     Part of the depth of the Imperfect Hope world is the past, as represented by the characters that I've either developed while writing IFGS D"oril games, lore, and player-characters I've adopted into the world.  I've touched on how I intend to keep some character concepts whole from my 'borrowed' character list, while adding a bunch of depth that fits the PC's into the D"oril world more seamlessly.  One way I'm doing this (as I get back into a writing habit, yes, it's coming back slowly) is to rework character histories by changing where they are from, and putting more detail into their past than the pc histories I pored through while I was writing D'oril games.

     Imperfect Hope references a few "old campaigners" that IFGS'ers may recognize, the most obvious being Brandis (a no brainer, since his background is the basis for all of my D'oril lore).  Because IH takes place some 50 or so years after the Old Campaign (here after known as OC), the 'great heroes' of the past have faded into legend, tales of which have actually been lost because of the turmoil following Sha'te Valley, and the chaos following the fall of the old kingdoms south of D'oril (unrelated to sha'te).  The old kingdoms, from which many of the heroes of SHa'te came, fell into a series of ugly wars against each other and outside influences (greed and poor leadership), much of the legends from before then were forgotten in the confusion as new heroes and more important (read immediate survival) issues abounded.  Only in a few areas (The Inn of the Stumbling Friar, for example, or the monasteries of the triad, or among the k'tath) are the histories kept whole.

     The confederacy, which has risen from the ashes of the old kingdoms, is still in its infancy, and is more concerned with cementing their position within the western realms of the continent than recalling the heroic times before the troubles.  The one time stranglehold on power that the old aristocracy held is now shared almost equally with the mercantile trade families that held the coastal towns together in the face of barbarian invasion, and the triad, whose monastaries provided intellectual sanctuaries inland, and their questors, who stepped in to protect areas of civilization as many of the aristocratic strongholds and families fell.  The aristocracy held on to it's top position, but only barely.

     Thus, the Old Campaigners are mostly forgotten, despite their crucial role in staving off the invasions of the Empire of Tallux.  However, they are not forgotten in the Empire, rather they are remembered with a mix of hatred, respect, and awe by the leadership, aristocracy, and middle classes.  (The slaves, of course, know little of life outside their small world, but the legends of Beauty and the Free-warriors of the east are still talked about, much to the dismay of the emperor and his supporters.)  The empire's current leader, taking the heart of the lessons from his father and the priesthood, takes into account his lessons and the memories of how the Old Campaigners opposed the empire in his plans to establish a foothold near the wintergem forests of D'oril.  However, none of the old campaigners remain, except...

     According to my storyline, the "OC" involved in Sha'te were never replaced by young up and coming's, since the situation in the new confederacy wasn't conducive to the methods of the "OC" (freelance, involved outside their own lands helping others or merely helping themselves (mercenary style).  Instead, the type of adventurer who would have become an "OC" instead ended up either involved in the triad questors, the mercantile trade families, or outright tied to old school ruling class families.  Free-lancing (outside the questors, and that is an entirely different animal) ceased to be when societal survival wasn't guaranteed.  To put it another way, The powers that be couldn't afford to let their 'free-lancers' go, and so ways were found to keep them within society. 

     Except for one.  The last of the independent Old Campaigners.  The Red Mage.  Rumored to be in his 80's already, a (some say bitter, some say merely crazy)wispy grey and red haired recluse who disdains almost all civilized contact.  He lives on his own island off the coast, brewing his own ale.  His recipes are slowly becoming legendary (some say magical), which he trades or sells only to a privileged few customers, including the Inn of the Stumbling Friar.  And that is the story that I'm going to visit this week as I jump start my creative side, the story of the last human survivor of Sha'te Valley. We'll see if a short story comes out of it.....

TTFN,
Jim
 

Ode to a post hole digger

     If you're expecting a poetic moment, sorry to disappoint.  However, I will comment on one of our recent weekend to-do's.  One of the fence posts between our property and a rental home next door was damaged sometime in the previous renter's tenancy (probably by the junk trailer they backed into their yard when they moved out in the middle of the night to skip out on their overdue rent), and this spring, some high winds finished the job, breaking it off such that the whole section of fence wobbled until we got it braced.  The owner, ( a rather cheap-skate real estate agent who bought the house when her client couldn't sell it during the recent housing market crash), couldn't be bothered to help fix the fence his tenants damaged, so we bought the materials and fixed it ourselves this weekend.  It seems likely that the owner is now fixing the place up to sell (we hope), at the very least, perhaps he'll be a bit more selective on whom to rent to.

     Word of warning.  If you ever have a choice of hiring someone to replace a fence post, and doing it yourself, Hire the worker, no matter the cost!  I'm afraid these old bones will never recover from the digging down about 4 feet to extract all of the old fence post and concrete that was holding it in.  I've used my pick axe before, but breaking up clay, and breaking concrete and rotted fencepost and clay is...  A younger man's job.  The fence is repaired, though.

     One of the previous renters (from a bit more than a year ago) was, I'm afraid, a stereotype bad neighbor type.  He was the one that damaged the fence with his trailer, some of their other tricks included storing their truck topper (peeling paint and rust) in their front yard (and sometimes he'd actually place it in our front yard, because he had lawn tools and other junk laying where he'd normally keep it).  One day I heard a gas-powered string trimmer revving up next door, accompanied by the sound of laughing and screaming kids.  From my deck, I could see his two mullet-haired boys (10 and 12 or so in age) playing, the older one was chasing his younger brother around the yard with the trimmer.  No adults in sight.  I asked the older boy what he planned to do if he actually caught his brother with the string trimmer...  (Great, future leatherface in training???)  His reply, in thick stereotype hillbilly was, "Uh, I dunno, he runs pretty good, dont he?".

     One of the landlords other tenants (who stayed only about 5 months) moved in in the middle of the night, moved out of the middle of the night, and regularly moved mysterious plastic trashcans from his garage to his truck regularly in the middle of the night.  No, we're not spying on them, these antics were observed several times when I was returning home from an evening shift, my truck headlights illuminated them (2 mid-twenties young men and their hooded helpers) rolling 2 filled trash cans down the driveway and all four of them hefting them into the back of their own truck.  Strange and scary...

    So now the house if being fixed up, with loads of new drywall disappearing into the house, lots of sawing and hammering and a dumpster's worth of construction trash piling up.  Since we'd been good friends with the previous owners (who moved out a couple of years ago), we know that the basement was already finished, so it must be repairwork being done.  Hmmmm......   (Please let it be sold...)

     Writing:  I've taken a trip back to my roots, or sorts.  In an effort to break my doldrums, I've been rooting around in the past of doril, digging up old stories to rekindle my passion for writing.  I"m looking at writing a short, possibly about beauty, or perhaps the "old crew", Brandis, Wulluff, Evro, Delanore.  Nothing earth shattering, just something to get me going again.  I'll post it (or excerpts as I go) here.  Hold me to it, patient readers.  And please, comment.  (especially you anonymous readers, I know you're out there, I just don't know who you are...  ;-)  )

Anyway, more to come, but I'll post tonight and write more tomorrow for later posting...

TTFN,
Jim


    

Adventures in Handymanland 2: The big outdoors

     Spring (and now summer) yard chores have been piling up, and Irma and I have tackled our to-do list with a vengeance, hoping to get some of it done before it gets too hot.  Some of our projects are finishing touches of stuff we've worked on in past years (for example, running some outdoor conduit to the outside corner of the deck so we could run the waterfall we've put in the garden there), others are projects put on hold last fall when the ground got too muddy or froze over (retaining wall around the willow tree, edging along the back fence area, and the stone tree wells around our apple and pear trees.  The last entails a fair amount of digging and leveling, since the trees are on a 20 degree slope, the stonework has to be dug in level.  We're doing a little bit every couple of days, since I find working on my knees digging and setting-in 40 pound retaining wall stones a bit fatiguing...  ;-)

     Other projects for the next couple of months include the last two sprinkler zones along the back fence, one to provide drip irrigation to the veggie garden and the fruit trees, the other to water the grass (that will be planted once I finish the tree wells and retaining walls.), and running a water line to the side of the deck in order to provide a short, light hose for us to water the containers on the deck without dragging the heavy black hose half way around the house.  I'd planned for this line when I laid in the sprinkler system several summers back, having laid some pvc underground from the sprinkler valves to beside the deck, where I put in a hose spigot and a manual valve that has until now sent water to the veggie garden drip system.  I"ll use that line with a new valve hooked to the controller that will meter the water to the garden and fruit trees, and split off a spigot attached to the deck railing before the valve for the deck watering line.  Finally, I'll put the trim and paint on the garden shed (built four years ago), and hopefully, be done for the summer.  Until the next list of projects comes up.

     Writing.  <Sigh>  No progress still.  But...  (no more excuses).   I"ll let you know when I start up again.  Perhaps our planned visit to the Colorado Renaissance Festival in a couple of weekends will spark some creativity.  It'll be the first time for our grandkids, I'm sure they'll make it new for us too!

     Anyway, more to come soon. 
TTFN,
Jim

What am I afraid of?

Hello, patient readers.  April and May have come and gone, and no postings.  Bad Jim.  No Biscuit.....

     On the other hand, there have been loads of issues and events.  The FAA is, well, still nuts.  Thunderstorms have already raised their ugly (thunder)heads, bringing terror to our new trainees who've never seen weather deviations before.  One trainee asked me after a particular chaotic session, "Is this going to happen all summer long?"  Yep.  "Could it be any worse?"  Yep.  "How did you ever learn to handle it?"  Just like taking a sip from a fire hose.  Time to bear down and earn our pay...

     As to the title of this post, I've been doing some soul searching about my lack of progress this spring on Imperfect Hope.  Guess what...  I've been acting as if I'm afraid of writing...  Something has triggered a fear of failure, or fear of success, or...  Fear.  I'm not sure exactly what is going on, I don't want to quit, but every time I"ve sat down to write, somehow something has come up to keep me from actually doing anything more than fiddling about with what I've already done.  Perhaps I need to write something else for a bit?  Perhaps I need to just deal with it?

     Some time away from writing has clarified some aspects of what I've been doing with Imperfect Hope, and raised other questions.  I've muddled about with various sub plots that needed to be muddled with, and tossed out some that just didn't fit this story.  Cerryn's journey to questor and weaponmaster will end up being a lot more involved, as will Randir's.  Ren's tale will have a greater bearing on the overall political/strategic storyline, justifying his existence in the tale.  And the political games of the Empire will take on a larger part, with factions within the Empire of Tallux pulling the emperor and those within the empire who oppose him back and forth as they try to balance their empire's needs.

     Beyond the writing front, Irma and I have tackled head on our spring to do list.  Old gardens have been refurbished, grass dug out from where it didn't belong, and the retaining wall projects are underway.  3 fruit trees and a willow need to have the slopes that prevent them from getting sufficient water levelled by building a retaining wall around them, and I"ve incorporated the landscape design to allow me to level and build a gravelled work area in front of the garden shed at the same time.  We've also wired some outdoor outlets for a water fountain at the deck corner, as well as lighting, solar powered motion sensor lights will eliminate the scary dark corners of our oversized lot (I hope squirrels don't trigger the sensors or the lights will be on all night).  The deck was sanded (5 days of crawling around on my hands and knees smoothing out splinters) and refinished, and trim and paint have been touched up all around the deck and house.  Ahead:  watering zones for the veggie garden and fruit trees, trim up and paint the shed, and start laying in a flagstone barbecue patio adjacent to the deck.  This to be done by summers end, when our fall to-do list will kick in. 

     Why the flurry of home improvement/repair/upkeep?  Three years to retirement.  Looking ahead to it, we'll have to have those project expenses taken care of by then, so...  Git-er-done...

     Anyway, I'm going to continue to address my writing fears, and one way I intend to do it is to get back to blogging more frequently.  I think I'm going to write a short story or scene outside of my ongoing project, just for the blog.  Maybe that'll break the logjam.  Maybe...

TTFN,
Jim
 

    

Since I've been gone...

     My apologies to those who've missed my posting of late, the last few weeks have been a maelstrom of chaos at times.  My stepson (and dad to my two grandsons) spent a few days in the hospital, at first the doc's were certain it was his gall bladder, but later some "House" wannabe diagnosed some torn cartilage and acid reflux and discharged him with extreme haste.  Three days later, a visit to Jose's personal doctor put him back on the track of gall bladder problems, a second gastroenterologist rediagnosed a gall bladder problem, and followups confirmed.  16 days after Doc 1 discharged Jose from the hospital, he had his gall bladder removed.  The pain of the previous 3 weeks finally disappeared. 

     While Jose was down with the symptoms and after the surgery during recovery, Irma and I took care of our two grandsons on the days that Jose has custody (4 days a week).  They're 9 and 4, and quite the handful.  We ended up the care three weeks ago when Jose was recovered enough to return to doting parental duties.  So what do I do?  Come down with a nasty 3 day stomach bug that had me unable to eat for a weekend.  Then, barely a day after I returned to work, A cough developed that turned into Bronchitus.  Another week of Phyuck!  (and really strong cough medicine that turned me into a drooling zombie...)

     So...  I"m finally back to work, though not fully back to strength.  And I've done no writing for more than 6 weeks.  Mother told me there'd be days (and days and days) like that.....  ;-)

     In the meantime, Reader Matt (probably missing my commentary and trying to stir me from my apparent hibernation) asked me if one reason I quit writing IFGS and started writing "for real" was because of the limitations of putting out my story the way I envisioned it when the actors (NPC's) have to ad-lib everything, since the players haven't a script.  In response to that (and Matt, I'll be sending out a more detailed response later this week when I gather my thoughts in specific), I've put together some more thoughts on the differences between writing IFGS and "for real".

     To a large degree, when you write for IFGS, you have to give over control of your story to your NPC's and staff, since there is no way to fully predict how players will act and react to your story.  Having said that, in the mini-game series, (and to a lesser degree, in Sha'te Valley), I put an incredible amount of time in trying to tailor the story line to the known players characters and predict how they will act, and for the most part, I was successful.  Though I can't put emotions into the PC's heads, I had some luck in getting them to "feel" the way I wanted them to in order to move the story forward.  I made the antagonist characters larger than life (almost cartoonish) villains who had obvious character traits, strengths and weaknesses and made certain that the actors portraying them got the background as to why they acted the way they did (at least as far as the needs of the story went).  Tailoring the NPC's backgrounds made it fairly easy to target PC's "buttons", for example, by understanding how Ray portrays his PC ranger, Evro, I was able to make Phorix a character that Evro would be torn over, (Good guy gone bad?  Bad guy with honor?  Wrong place at wrong time?).  Thus, I was able to lead the PC's down the (8 lane wide concrete highway) plot path I'd laid out.

     In my writing, I don't have to be so cartoonish about the antagonists or protagonists.  So long as I make it reasonable, I can lead the reader down the plot path that I choose, without making it so blatently obvious.  Antagonists can be subtle, more believable, and hence, more to my story liking.

     Beyond that limitation, IFGS writing has to satisfy a "sanctioning committee" (SC), whose job is to make sure the game is safe, doable, and complies with IFGS rules in such a way that PC's won't feel 'cheated'.  There was a degree of conflict between what they felt was fair, and what I felt was an important part of the storyline, unfortunately, I had a long term view of where the story went, and that by the end of the series I was working on, the PC's would feel successful, but within any given minigame, some would feel like they ended up on the dirty end of the stick.  I chose my PC's such that they would see the long term and not file complaints against the SC for an unfair game, but the SC wasn't able to take the long term view.  Mostly, I suspect, because they had other games on their review docket, and had to treat all the game designers the same, giving me a break could cause designer number 2 to cry foul if he didn't get the same break.  So, in the interest of fairness, some blandness was required in the overall game design.

     I can be unfair to my characters when I write, they won't complain.  'Nuff said.

     Anyway, there's a lot of other reasons why IFGS writing is different for me than fiction writing.  There are a lot of similarities, as well, perhaps I'll touch on them next time.  I promise, it won't be nearly two months before I continue...

TTFN,
Jim

Revisiting D'oril

     I've developed a lot of background material for Imperfect Hope the last few weeks that have refined my vision of D'oril and of the larger world of the D'oril continent (Still groping for a name, but it will come).  Some of it involves one of my earliest "myths" from the IFGS character history of Brandis was that of the birth of the stars, the battle of Dag'enkath, and the position of the K'tath within the greater political arena.  In that very basic myth, I cast the creation of the stars as the pivotal event of the k'tath through a lengthy "history".

     In that history, before Dag'enkath, there were no stars.  There was also a balance between good and evil, darkness and light, so on set up in the aftermath of an earlier, world-devastating conflict between light and dark earlier.  Unhappy with the stagnation of this world, Cy'te, (aka the gamester) introduced "shadow" to the forces of darkness, upsetting the balance.  The forces of light were overwhelmed, until only the k'tath remained surrounded on the hilltop of Dag'enkath.

     To shorten the lengthy story, Elorna, primary guardian of the k'tath, was prohibited (as were all guardians) from intervening directly (from the pacts made long ago after that earlier war between the gods).  Her tears of sadness became the stars, from which the k'tath warriors drew strength to face the shadows, and restored the balance. 

     From that "mythical" tale, I've had to create a more believable "history" for both the k'tath, and the rest of the people of the world.  Rather than force a rather unbelievable appearance of stars on the readers, I've altered the history to become "an awakening", that prior to Dag'enkath, the stars held no special powers to the k'tath, but after, their "talented" could draw upon Elorna's power through them.  There's a lot of depth that I don't have the space to explain at this point, but basically Elorna has invested magical power in the memories of fallen k'tath associated with the stars.  Other cultures have garnered their magical power from other sources (tides, ritual, intonation and/or gestures), all of which create an access point for the natural or unnatural powers that define their brand of magic. 

     The awakening of the k'tath is only one part of the new history.  The long dark brought on by the shadow wars that ended at Dag'enkath also explains the collapse of the civilization south of D'oril.  That Civilization is the one that had built the network of lighthouses which enabled them to navigate the hazardous ocean between their and the far western continent.  Though the true power of the lighthouses has been lost, a couple of the merchanter houses still maintain some ships that can use (in a limited fashion) the navigation lines that the still function lighthouses provide.  In the long term, rediscovery of that technology will be a major part of the latter stages of the confederacy/empire conflict.

     All of this should help me keep Imperfect Hope consistant as I grind through it, but more importantly, the volume of material I'm putting together will keep me writing long into the sunset.  I've already been able to place some of my other story ideas within the grand time scale I've put together.  All told, the world of D'oril is firming up nicely...

     As an interesting sidenote, I recently started reading "The Rivan Codex" by David and Leigh Eddings.  The Eddings' wrote the Belgariad and Malloreon series (some 9 or 10 books, I believe), something I read voraciously 20 years back when they came out.  The Rivan Codex is a glimpse on how he and his wife wrote those books, including background tales and how they put together the world of the belgariad.  The first chapter seems to indicate that I"m on the right path, many of the steps he writes about having been key in developing the background for his tales are the same ones I'm grinding through right now.  It has also given me new enthusiasm...

     A second side note, a recent discussion I had with some of my co-workers had about writing abilities raised an issue that seems to be generational.  Comparing how I learned to write 35+ years ago in the public school system to what is (and more importantly, what apparently isn't), and today's primary writing outlets (blogs, email, and <gasp> twittering) compared to what and how we wrote "back in the day", there is a huge gap in skill, intent, and comprehension.  I believe I'll post about it next time, because it's ignited a firestorm of controversy (of sorts) within the control room, with us oldsters maintaining that writing has become a lost art, and the younglings under 30 holding to the belief that it has merely changed to reflect the times.  I'll have to reinforce my soapbox for this one...  ;-)

TTFN,
Jim

And where did you think these stereotypes came from, anyway?

     Irma and I made a short notice trip to visit with her brother in Cedar City, Utah to give him some support through some ongoing difficult times.  In order to get there, we had to fly to Las Vegas and rent a car to drive 2 1/2 hours into Utah.  I've never been a 'city person', (nor even a large town person), and Vegas definitely fits the bill.  However, we did get a chance to sample some amazing desserts and sandwiches from Jean-Philippes, a patisserie at the Bellagio Hotel where one of our nephews works.  I'm afraid amazing is a bit restrained when it comes to the chocolates and eclairs and, yes, even the roast beef sandwich we had...

     On the flight out to Vegas, as well as while gathering our luggage at the airport, I had the opportunity to observe people.  Yep, those stereotypes fit.  On the flight, there was a large contingent of blue-haired senior citizens (and spouses) who happily chatted almost non-stop with each other and anyone else who made the mistake of making eye contact about how "I personally don't gamble much, but I always seem to win.  But I know someone who lost x-thousand dollars the last time they went".  Funny.  Nobody loses in Vegas, it's always someone else...  ;-)  Of course, on the flight back, most of those same blue-hairs were silent and appeared quite somber.

     Another living stereotype was the white-leisure suit clad, comb-over bearing, 40-something who rushed off the plane to a vending machine near baggage claim in order to purchase a half dozen roses or some other such bouquet, presumable for the girlfriend he was to meet at the airport.  Oozing class, he pondered over the important decision for 10 minutes or so before settling on some arrangement that presumable was almost fresh...  Oh, and the young mid-twenties who put down a brace of beers prior to boarding the plane, talked loudly much of the way, and upon exiting the plane, almost ran to the slot machine to get rid of a few dollars that, based on how quickly he wanted to get rid of them, obviously must have been contaminated with H1N1. 

     There was also the man, sitting across the aisle from me, who grumbled about how they wouldn't let him bring his beer from the terminal onto the plane, and when an infant 4 rows back from us uttered 5-10 seconds worth of loud crying (who wouldn't cry upon being herded into the closed confines of an MD-80), spent the next two minutes loudly muttering to himself "Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into.  Great, a screaming baby.  They should ban those things...blah blah blah")  His harangue was infinitely more annoying than the normal utterances of even the loudest infant.  ;-)

     Anyway, trip out and back went smoothly.  Irma's brother, Omar, and his family (3 kids age 8,13, and 18), probably face a lot more stress as his wife continues her long recovery from brain surgery, but Irma and I both saw good signs of eventual progress and hope.  Puts my whole cataract surgery drama in perspective, at any rate...

     Back to the writing, and I expect I'll be grinding away at Cerryns tale this weekend.  I'll let you know how it goes...

TTFN,
Jim