In a small rural library near my parents' summer cottage, I once found a little book about tabletop wargaming with miniatures. It wasn't a sociological study or anything, but simply a book about how to get started in the hobby. It talked about how to make terrain models, and measure ranges between units on a tabletop, and stuff like that. It also discussed basic rules, not in the sense of laying them down, but of discussing what things you should consider when inventing your own rules. All I rea
"Wormy" was this awesome series that ran in Dragon magazine back in the 1980s, around the same time that Phil Foglio was getting started. Wormy was drawn by a guy named David Trampier, who also did a lot of the artwork for the first edition AD&D books. The title character is the pool-hustling dragon in the episode below. He's sort of like a retired mobster — decent enough now that you don't worry about him killing you, but on the other hand you still give him a wide berth. He's pretty tradit
Lartaynior was sitting in the common room of the inn in Almaria. From time to time, he liked to pretend he was a commoner and get a feel for the general opinions of the populace. Today, the feeling was agitation. Merchants wanted out of the city to sell in the refugee encampment across the river, but no one was being allowed across the bridge. I wish I could make them understand how necessary this is. No matter how many times he had explained his reasons for sealing off the city, the people just
OOC: This section of the post was written by Infernal. It has been included for context.
In the distance Ohvol could see a town. It was a small place, but he couldn't smell any of those damned vahnatai. He could see plenty of guards around it though, he would need to use another human disguise to get in. Muttering a command word, Ohvol's form changed. His skeleton warping, his skin shifting, in less than ten seconds he looked perfectly human. Around 1.7 meters (5'6") tall and 60 kilograms (
Cressen led his men through the devastated farmland, past the pale, lifeless bodies. They had been killed in all sorts of disgusting ways. Here a man was disemboweled, there a woman had her heart cut out. Who is capable of such cruelty?
He had told his officers to be on the lookout for hostiles. A very large force had done this, and these bodies were fresh. As of yet, they had encountered nothing living. Perhaps there is someone left in Mertis. They were approaching the gates of the city. Th
OOC: This first paragraph was written by Dintiradan for his faction. It has been included for context.
A little shaky from vertigo, Alexandria and her two companions stepped from the portal. She looked around briefly at the ruins of the once triumphant Tower, then turned to the force awaiting them. "I am Battlemage Alexandria of the Dominion of the Learned, here to speak with a representative of King Lartaynoir," she said proudly. Time to see how Lower Avernum stood with the Dominion.
O
Lartaynior pondered the message he had just received. It had arrived via lizardback courier from Blosk. Can these "Disciples of Khoth really provide me with a foothold in the Eastern Gallery? If so, they will be a welcome ally. I suppose it doesn't hurt to see.
He reached into the desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and composed his reply.
Dear sir:
We will be quite pleased to provide you with as much mushroom meal and salted lizard as you need in return f
Selwyn was surprised to see a group of people marching his way. They're faster than we thought they were. His party was about halfway between Torfen and the Tower of Magi.
"Come on men, let's hurry it up. We want to find out who these people are."
"Yes, sir," said Lt. Mandon, the officer in charge of the troops.
They hurried forward, and the other group followed suit.
When they finally got close enough to speak, the woman leading the other column asked, "Who are you?"
I am Li
"The Tower of Magi has been all but obliterated, your grace," said Barstan, the leader of the scouting party Lartaynior had sent east.
All the money that went into rebuilding it, only to have it razed again. How typical.
"Did you find anything salvageable?"
"A few scrolls, and some potions. I sent them to Thomys. There is one other thing, sire."
"Yes?"
"While we were examining the ruins, a portal appeared in the center of the tower. It was only there for a few seconds, but it
Finally, a city that welcomes me with open arms.
Lartaynior sat in the office of the mayor of Torfen. Tyrioz was a small man, almost dwarfish in stature, who was taller sitting down than he was standing up.
"I can give you 800 of my fighting men, but I will need to keep the rest to defend my city, your grace."
Hardly surprising for a city that was built without a care for defense.
For as long as Avernum has been settled, there was a merchant encampment along the east bank of the sma
First he asks for my help, now he defies me. I should raze this city to the ground.
Lartaynior was again in his command tent, this time outside of Blosk. He had rethought his decision to leave Blosk behind. There are too many good fighting men to be had. Unfortunately, Renlo had also been doing some rethinking. Realizing that the Abyss Knights were unlikely to directly attack a walled city, such as his, he had decided not to pledge allegiance to the king after all. At least Blosk is easy to
Curse the Knights of the Abyss! Curse them to... well, the Abyss.
Lartaynior was in his command tent in the middle of his army's encampment outside the western gates of Almaria. He had bypassed Dharmon and Blosk and was now trying to negotiate with Stannwyk, the mayor of Almaria. After abandoning the two western cities, he had received an urgent message from Renlo, the mayor of Blosk asking for his help. The Knights of the Abyss were making him quite nervous. He dug his own hole. Let's see h
As he paced along the walls of Fort Remote, Lartaynior, nominal King of Avernum and commander of the remnants of the once-mighty Army of Avernum, pondered his next move. As the last surviving relative of King Gideon, he had a very legitimate claim to the Avernite throne, but he somehow doubted that the mayors of Dharmon, Blosk, and Almaria will recognize that claim.
They've gotten a taste for power. Once you have power, it's hard to give it up.
Since the massacre at the Castle, the mayor
Throwing stones is fun. Especially when into a lake. They drop down to the bottom never to be seen again. Unless you go swimming and fish them out. But then they'd be wet. I don't like wet stones.
A little over ten years ago, I stumbled across a game on a shareware disc. That game was different than the rest: there were people to talk to, a world to discover, a war to fight on a person-to-person basis. Instead of playing a preformed character, I took control of a team, forced to be dynamic to be successful, and forced through circumstances beyond their control, to become the saviors of their world.
That game was Exile II.
I'd never played an RPG before, and as a freshman in high scho
Check out the South African band Lonehill Estate, who have this great song Technoband. If you just google them or the song, you'll see their YouTube video.
