Wednesday, December 23, 2009

I felt like being a DJ the other day...

so I threw together a playlist for the imaginary goth/industrial club in my mind. Despite the fact that it doesn't contain a lot of new music (outside of A23) and has one definite no-no (Lady Gaga...oh, well, I'm allowed one bit of randomness), I don't think it's half bad.

Clan of Xymox Obsession
Soil & Eclipse Thief of Always
Depeche Mode A Pain That I'm Used to
Lady Gaga Pokerface
Unheilig Fang Mich Auf
Covenant Call the Ships to Port
Rosetta Stone Adrenaline (extended)
Fictional Blue Lights
Bigod 20 On the Run
Pinworm Acetone
VNV Nation Legion
Skinny Puppy Inquisition (extended)
Battery The Betrayel (megamix)
Thrill Kill Kult The Days of Swine and Roses
Sister of Mercy Nine While Nine
Snake River Conscpiracy Lovesong
London After Midnight Kiss
Juno Reactor God is God
Garbage #1 Crush
Die Form Rain of Blood
NIN Reptile
Mesh Trust You
Apoptygma Berzerk Love Never Dies
Wolfsheim Heroin, She Said
Depeche Mode Lie to Me
Assemblage 23 Collapse
Beborn Beton Another World
Heavy Water Factory Vampire (tasture mix)
SITD Snuff Machinery
Stromkern Night Riders
Delerium Euphoria (Firefly)
Rob D Clubbed to Death (Kurayamino mix)
Love & Rockets Haunted When the Minutes Drag
The Cure Lullaby
Rob Zombie Living Dead Girl
Wumpscut Hang Him Higher
KMFDM Anarchy
Razed in Black Oh My Goth!
Project Pitchfork Timekiller
Megaherz Du Oder Ich
Stabbing Westward Save Yourself
Depeche Mode John the Revelator
Massive Attack Inertia Creeps
Switchblade Symphony Wallflower
Siouxsie & the Banshees Into the Light
Informatik Entropy
Suicide Commando The Reformation
VNV Nation Chrome
Imperative Reaction Drown
Funker Vogt A Dream
She Wants Revenge I Don't Wanna Fall in Love
Covenant Bullet
Diary of Dreams Butterfly:Dance!
Dead Can Dance Yulungu
Concrete Blonde Bloodletting (the Vampire Song)
Assemblage 23 Spark
Bigod 20 Like A Prayer
Fluke Atom Bomb
Unit 187 Dead Dog (punter mix)
Hocico Forgotten Tears (suicide commando mix)
Das Ich Destillat (VNV nation mix)
Numb Blood
Wolfsheim The Sparrows & the Nightingales
Skinny Puppy Testure (12" mix)
Snog Hey, Christian God

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Hey, Son, the Novel's Done! (Mostly)

I finished writing the novel project out by hand last night. I'm not sure if I'm 100% happy with the ending, but we'll see. My word count in Nanowrimo is bound to stay unchanged for a few days while I type the rest of my handwritten draft in (the last I checked, as soon as you've submitted 50,000 words you can't add any more, so I plan to get the rest typed in and then submit it).

The final word count for "Red" should be somewhere in the 60-65K range, and while this particular novel doesn't lend itself well to a sequel, the bizarre setting has tremendous potential, and I could definitely see myself setting another story there in the future.

This has been a very fun writing exercise, and unquestionably the most fun I've had writing in a long, long time. I'll keep making minor tweaks as I finish up the typed draft and look at doing a more serious revision in the coming weeks. (The goal here will be to make sure a revision gets done...I've historically been pretty bad about following through on that.)

As ever, thanks to Lib and the kids for putting up with me during this whole enjoyable ordeal -- as always, I couldn't have ground out tens of thousands of words without your support! =)

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Novel Progress

Up to about 18,000 words...strange that my little widget hasn't updated like it's supposed to. I'm very excited about this project!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

NanoWrimo, Day One -- Success!!!!

Daylight savings gave me some extra time to write this morning...and boy, did I write. I hadn't even done a word count till a short time ago.

This is a good start, since it'll be much tougher for me to update during the week.

Here's the brief novel description posted to the Nanowrimo site:

In the blasted wastelands of a doomed future, a young woman has embarked on a deadly mission. Her quest will take her through the foulest depths of a world crippled by corrupt magic and dark creatures, where mankind struggles against the undying forces that brought about the end of the world.

Her mission is simple: to end the ongoing war between human and vampire, by whatever means necessary.

This woman's name is Red, and she is being hunted.

Hunted by the vampires who are afraid she won't reach her destination.

And hunted by the humans, who are afraid she will.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Nanowrimo Beckons

It's almost time for Nanowrimo -- which means I need to make a decision on the novel-to-be!

If you've ever considered writing a novel; if you already write novels and need an excuse to write another one; or if you're just really desperate for something to do this November, sign up! You'll be glad you did. :)

Monday, October 12, 2009

Tales from a Fast Year (Or, the "WTF 2009 LOL Story")

Is it just me, or has 2009 just sort of screamed past us? It's been sort of like a drive-by shooting of a year.

It's been a busy and eventful year, highlighted (in more ways than one) by my dear wife's online yarn shop, Liberty's Yarn. The amount of work she's put into her product, marketing and store is downright humbling, sometimes, but (at least from my perspective, which is primarily that of spectator and wrangler of wary children who might keep Lib from getting work done) it seems to have paid off for her, as she has strong online presence, a steady flow of business and she had a great showing at the Sock Summit down in Portland this past summer.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention, I took an actual vacation this year, hanging out with the kids for a few days in Portland while Lib peddled her quality wares. Portland is a beautiful town, and it was nice to spend some time down there and see the sights (especially the Oregon Zoo...holy crap that place is awesome!).

Aside from that, other highlights for the year thus far include:

* Starting up a new D&D campaign.
* Working.
* Getting numerous rejection letters from publishing houses and editors, which has led to...
* Struggling with what I want to do with my writing, and deciding (finally) to get some of the 2,000+ pages I've written in the past few years revised and out there for publication, even if that means self-publishing and/or e-publishing (two options I was not terribly excited about before).
* Working.
* Trying to keep the kids on track.
* Trying to help Lib out with the business in whatever small ways I can (which usually just amounts to me entertaining the kids and doing the dishes).
* Trying to stay sane.
* Getting into a good exercise retinue (which 16 mile-a-day bike commutes doing the week).
* Working. Did I mention that one already?

We're also to be blessed with my brother-in-law Koul coming to visit us, starting tomorrow. We haven't seen every one's favorite dry ice and duct tape fanatic in a while, so it'll be fun to have him.

As we come in to the final stretch of the rest of the year, we've got Holiday Hell (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas), our 9th Wedding Anniversary, my 3rd "Novel in November" outing, a new season of NBA basketball, a lot of knitting and D&D and, of course, work. Is it any wonder I haven't had the time or (more accurately) the energy to blog?

Well, I'd best get back to 2009...don't want to miss another second!

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Time to Start Blogging Again....

I've been living exclusively on Facebook since the Mesozoic Era, but with Nanowrimo rapidly approaching and a renewed drive to get "Darker Sunset" published, I decided it's time to jump back onto the Blogwagon. (You know..."Hi, I'm Steve and I'm a Blogoholic"...'Hi, Steve'...that sort of thing...)

I'll be revisiting the look of the blog page here pretty soon, as well as trying to post some regular updates on what has become for me a veritable cornucopia of writing projects: publishing "Darker Sunset: Hunters & Thieves", getting the hand-written drafts of books 2-6 in the series typed; revising "Razor" and "something black..."; and thinking ahead to my next Nanowrimo project, an as-yet-unnamed sequel to "something black...".

So...stay tuned, there's more to come!

Sunday, June 28, 2009

D&D, Black Dawn Campaign Adventure Log, Session 2: Following the Trail

After a much needed rest, the band of marooned heroes – Malkar, the swordmage; Geralt, the Sulajji rogue; Theothia, the human druid; Sol, the half-Dracaj warden; and Joar, the half-Doj warlord – resumed their pursuit of Lucan Keth, an escaped Bloodspeaker terrorist they’d agreed to capture for the warden Argus; in return for this service, Argus would help the larger body of survivors from the crash of the Black Wing pass safely through Dracaj-controlled territory.

The blood eye that the party had acquired from Argus told them that Keth had continued on to the remote mountain-based trading settlement of Tain. However, the blood eye also indicated that Keth had taken a minor detour to a small abandoned building at the bottom of a narrow valley; since he hadn’t stopped there long enough to take any significant rest, the party surmised he had some other purpose there, and their deigned to uncover it.

The building, as it turned out, was an abandoned but stocked monastery and library, one of the last remnants of a long-dissolved cloister called the Brotherhood of the Carfex. And it was not empty: a small force of Gorgoloth, led by a pair of Gol sorcerers, desperately searched for something among the thousands of books. (This unit, it seemed, was part of a larger Rathian military force apparently intent on wiping out all civilized life in the area.) After a lengthy and confusing battle – one that saw more than a few painful falls from the upper level of the building to the ground floor – the villains were scattered.

Piecing together the tomes, scrolls, memory stones and notes the Gol had gathered granted the party some important facts. Apparently, a diabolic adventuring couple named Bloodmoon and Callador, who’d been tempted to the ways of evil by “a demonic source of otherworldly power” called the Scourge, had been defeated by the Brotherhood some time before the Black War. The lovers and the Scourge had then been interred in a chamber east of Tain called the Bloodwinter Tomb. The Brotherhood had not been able to destroy the Scourge, so they hired the best arcane engineers, demonologists and binders they could find to seal it and the lovers into the Tomb permanently. Unfortunately, some unexplained event led to the downfall of the Brotherhood and the Tomb’s premature sealing: while Bloodwinter remained a powerful oubliette, its wards were incomplete, and could be broken.

The information hinted that the Scourge’s influence was such it could compel beings who’d come too close to Bloodwinter so that they would return and break the seals…and Geralt guessed this might be the case with Lucan Keth, a frightening notion since another scroll indicated that the means to actually open the Tomb were located in a Brotherhood bookshop in Tain.

With renewed concern over what it might if Keth were to escape them, the party set out for Tain…but not before they were attacked by a squad of hostile Dracaj hunters and magi, part of the local tribe that laid claim to the area. After dispensing with these troublesome foes, the party renewed their pursuit.

Any questions over Tain’s fate were dispelled as the party approached the town: it was abandoned and in ruin, devastated by more Gorgoloth mercenaries and the Scourge madness seeping from Bloodwinter Tomb. Though the town was now largely abandoned, it quickly became apparent that scattered mercenary units still prowled Tain’s streets, one of which – a Gorgoloth squad led by a dangerous human mage, a pistoleer and a fully operational Motorgun Walker – challenged the party as soon as they arrived at the city gates.

Once these enemies were vanquished, the adventurers decided to take to the streets of Tain in order to pass through the city as quickly as possible, since the breadth of the settlement meant that to circumvent the city would take far too much precious time. After all, it seemed that Geralt was right: the blood eye had revealed that Lucan Keth had passed straight through Tain, and the party now intended to do the same, and catch up with him before it was too late.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

D&D, Black Dawn Campaign Adventure Log, Session 1: The Hunt

It began with a crash.

The engines of the Blackwing – a turbine-powered vessel carrying passengers, trade goods and prisoners on the last leg of its lengthy voyage around Sethia – exploded and sent the ship shattering against the sharp stones of the east shores of Rimefang Loch. Those passengers who survived the crash found themselves beset by the attacks of prisoners who’d escaped from the hold, as well as a diabolic wastelands hunter called a Blightwalker. Luckily for those survivors, five of their own number were would-be adventurers: Malkar, a swordmage escapee from the undead-controlled city of Tanith; Joar, a half-Doj warlord who wholly distrusted magic and technology; Theothia, a human druid with newly found prophetic dream powers; Geralt, a Sulaj rogue on the run from other more powerful criminals; and Sol, a half-Dracaj warden and former mercenary.

After these heroes dealt with the prisoners and the Blightwalker, the survivors gathered what supplies and provisions they could and prepared to make the rest of their journey along the dangerous coastline. There was, however, a problem. While surviving the deadly Dracaj-controlled coast would be made much easier with the influential word of a Black Warden, Argus, the Warden who’d brought the prisoners on board, refused to help anyone until two of the more dangerous prisoners who’d escaped in the wreck were returned to his custody. After some debate, it was decided that the greater body of survivors (well-armed with flintlocks) would wait it out near the ruins of the ship; that Argus would pursue the mechanically altered serial killer Vance Creyzak, who’d headed north along the coast; and the five inexperienced heroes would pursue the Bloodspeaker terrorist Lucan Keth, who’d set his sights inland. Equipped with a bizarre thaumaturgic compass that would lead them to Keth, the newly formed group set off into the hazardous Razortooth Mountains, warned by Captain Graves of the possibility of Rath-funded mercenary groups operating in the area.

It didn’t take the party long to find evidence of these mercenaries: a mountain village that Theothia had visited on occasion in the past had been laid to waste, and the bullet-addled and blade-ruined bodies of the dead had been piled high in the center of the settlement. Worse still, an unknown magical taint in the area had caused several of these unfortunate villagers to animate as hostile undead and attack the party. Once these undead were dealt with, the party laid as many of the dead villagers to rest as they could before they moved on.

The party moved higher into the mountains. In a desolate clearing surrounded by dead trees the party caught up with the desecrators of the village: a small unit of Gorgoloth soldiers and barbarians led by a Meldoarian thaumaturge-captain. As if this force wasn’t significant enough, the captain also controlled a deadly homunculus war machine called a Motorgun Walker, as well as a Bloodwolf. Though there were some misgivings about taking on such a sizable force, the party had revenge on their minds, and soon they’d surrounded the unit and launched their assault. The battle went well at first, as Gorgoloth soldiers fell before the party’s initial attack, but very soon the powerful Gorgoloth barbarians and the captain’s deadly magic tipped the tide in the mercenaries favor. The battle raged for some time, and each side saw its members fall one-by-one. The deciding strike came from Malkar, his last act before as was rendered unconscious by the thaumaturge: he unleashed a deadly cryo-blast that tore through the mage’s defenses and killed him. With the mage’s life went the mercenaries’ Motorgun Walker (which promptly broke down) and their control over the Bloodwolf, who turned on its former masters before returning to the wilderness.

In the end, only Theothia was left standing on the battlefield, and it was up to her to revive her companions so that they could recuperate and carry on with their mission. Lucan Keth was gaining ground on them by the hour, and they desired to catch up with him before he reached the mountain trading city of Tain.

Friday, June 19, 2009

D&D, Black Dawn Campaign Player Handout Excerpt #4: Races

PLAYER CHARACTER RACES

In addition to humans – the dominant species on Sethia – here are the available PC races for this campaign.


Bloodspeakers

Though technically not a race, Bloodspeakers were, prior to the Black Dawn, among the most feared and hated denizens of Sethia. Bloodspeaker mages were born with the ability to quite literally breathe magic – which took the form of clouds of dripping bloody haze that coalesced and was shaped by its creator – and this fearsome aspect made the entire race a despised minority in all of Sethia, due primarily to the perceived tendency of its members to wreak destruction wherever they went. Bloodspeakers were born, it seemed, quite at random: one’s parent did not need to be a Bloodspeaker, and just because one had a Bloodspeakers talents did not mean that her children would bear them, as well. There were perhaps one Bloodspeaker for every hundred or so that were not.

Bloodspeakers were shunned and avoided in Den’nar, which was preferential to the treatment they received in Jlantria, where they were hunted, incarcerated, and killed with appalling regularity. Arcane tests and equipment developed that allowed Bloodspeaker to be rooted out and hunted, though these tests were far from reliable, and many innocent people were killed. The hatred of Bloodspeakers became a witch hunt. Anyone could be a Bloodspeaker, since they looked just like any “normal” person, and the threat of being accused of being a Bloodspeaker soon weighed heavy on citizens of the Jlantrian Empire. To the Throne and the Church of Corvinia, Bloodspeakers became a physical embodiment of the evils of society: they were a convenient bind to be thrown over the general population in order to keep them under control.

Since the Black War and the Black Dawn, the stigma regarding Bloodspeakers has lifted somewhat, due largely in part to the dissolution of the Jlantrian Empire. That being said, Bloodspeakers are still treated with a general malaise by other races, and the fact that militant Bloodspeaker groups like the Revengers still carry out violent criminal acts in the name of their race certainly hasn’t help to alleviate the enduring tensions.


Doj

Despite being a race of imposing giants, history has proved the Doj to be one of the most exploited Nethermost races: their past is filled with periods of enslavement at the hands of the Eidolos, of being driven from their ancestral homeland by the Dracaj, of being experimented on with Meldoarian war thaumaturgi and of being slaughtered by the Cruj. True Doj appear as large (albeit somewhat stocky) humans roughly fifteen feet tall; their hair is generally curly and dark, their eyes are black, and their skin ranges in color from white to nearly ebon. It is believed that the Doj race was once both larger and more culturally advanced as a society, but centuries of war, underground imprisonment and surviving cruel thaumaturgic modifications has greatly reduced the size of the average Doj and effectively stymied their societal development.

There are no actual Doj lands remaining: these giants have been so thoroughly decimated by history and circumstance that they bear little left to grant themselves any sort of unified identity. Large bands of Dojian raiders roam the Nethermost, battling whatever they encounter, while others travel in caravans, merely attempting to avoid the Cruj and the Eidolos. Doj on the surface are almost always “half-Doj”, an offshoot race that has evolved from the Crujian slave stock and that is much smaller (roughly half the size) of their subterranean cousins, and who generally trend to have gray skin and gray or white hair. When most surface dwellers think of Doj, it is almost always the “half-Doj” they are actually referring to.

Most Doj encountered will be half-Doj on the surface world, who readily find work as mercenaries or specialized laborers. The Gray Watch outside of New Koth is the largest surface assembly of these sad creatures known to exist.

Dracaj

The Dracaj are a race of cunning, magic-yielding reptilian warriors who ruthlessly scheme to dominate the Nethermost. Dracaj appear as roughly human-like lizards of varying color, with slightly elongated arms and pale white eyes that bear no pupils; the creatures can either crawl or walk erect, and their tails are roughly twice as long as their bodies. Dracaj speak to one another in a strange, guttural language of bark-like roaring noises.

The Dracaj are among the more indecipherable of the denizens of the Nethermost. They are subtle and cunning, and rarely engage in open conflict, although they are known to patrol the borders of their domain with murderous alacrity. Trespassers into Dracaj territories vanish into the depths of the Nethermost, subjected to terrible flesh altering experiments, rendered blind and then sold as slaves, or else put to work in rare ore mines buried miles below the surface. The Dracaj are also rumored to have highly unsavory sexual appetites, with humans as their choice of fetish.

There are several sub-species of Dracaj, classified by scholars according to color: red (small, quick, superior understanding of magical technology), blue (primitive, more lizard-like than human-like), gray (human sized, most adept at magic) and black (giant-sized, skilled warriors, highly barbaric). There also exists the so-called half-Dracaj: not true hybrids at all, but the offspring of once-captured humans who were partially imprinted with the Draconian genetic structure in a strange attempt on the part of the evil race to conquer through forced reproduction. Half-Dracaj are fairly uncommon, and most first-generation have difficulty re-adjusting to normal life, though their offspring are generally well accepted.


Gol

These strange, cursed people came to be as result of Meldoarian magic, though the Gol are not necessarily of Meldoar themselves. The Gol are a diminutive race of near humans with terribly scarred flesh, opaque eyes and a proclivity for sorcery and witchcraft. Gol first began to appear in both Jlantria and Den’nar roughly eighty years prior to the Black War, claiming to be the survivors of some calamity brought on by Talosian witch magic. Their diminutive bodies, they claimed, were not their own, but vessels that their individual souls were trapped as part of a mass, failed experiment Meldoarian experiment. Unfortunately, due to the fickle nature of Talosian magic (which tampers with time and consciousness, often with unexpected results), the Gol have been left without any clues as to their true origins or identity. They live in prisons of flesh: lost souls bound in unfamiliar bodies.

Hard to believe as their stories were, Veilwardens of Jlantria and Den’nari mystics have authenticated the collective Gol tale through experimentation and mind reading. At the point of their initial appearance, there were roughly 10,000 Gol scattered through both Empires, all sharing the same general sense of their shared fate even though most, it seemed, had never met.

The Gol population has fallen sharply over the years due to an apparent lack of ability to reproduce. The Gol’s misshapen frames are blessed with unusual longevity, however, and the scattered refugees of whatever calamity befell them found homes in both Den’nar and the normally xenophobic Jlantria before the War, and many of them found work as alchemists, mages and soothsayers, all arts they seem naturally adept at. They are a crass, angry people, deprived of the knowledge of their own origins, forever displaced in a world that views them with both amusement and pity. Today, there are perhaps 1,000 Gol remaining in the world.

Sulaj

Buried in a number of hidden villages deep in the Dusk Hills, the Sulaj are a quiet race of mystics, sorcerers and warriors. An offshoot race of humans, the Sulajji are pale-skinned, fair-haired, and with milky eyes, a result of a millennia of incarceration in the Nethermost. The soft-spoken Sulaj are athletic and graceful, and they hold a strong and rich scholarly tradition through the passing down of whispered tales and astral dirges. Sulaj are incredibly secretive and, in their own way, highly xenophobic, as they are reluctant to share information or work with outsiders unless placed in a situation where they have little other choice.

After a bloody rebellion that enabled the Sulaj to escape from the subterranean Crujian metropolis of Meledrakkar, they escaped to the surface world, where they were forced into hiding for a good many years by the militant Jlantrian Empire, which viewed them as intruders and insurgents. The Sulaj eventually found refuge in the more peaceful Empire of Den’nar, where they were allowed to develop their own communities unmolested. Though relatively isolationist, the Sulaj were considered free citizens of the Den’nari Empire, and individuals often set out on their own in search of knowledge or to aid in the greater good. A few even found homes in Jlantria, though generally out of plain sight. During the Black War, the Sulaj made a name for themselves acting as Veilwardens, assassins and scouts; it was primarily through the effort of valiant Sulajji agents that Chul Gaerog was destroyed and the war ended.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

D&D, Black Dawn Campaign Player Handout Excerpt #3: Geography

GEOGRAPHY
It’s a big world out there. Here’s a guide of the basic knowledge you have as we start the campaign:

Black Scar
Black Scar is a dreaded prison complex in a secret location. Black Scar houses the most diabolic host of criminals, creatures, madmen, terrorists and sentient magical energies ever seen. The Black Wardens, who are as corrupt and as mercenary as they are fearsome and merciless, are among the most feared individuals in the civilized world.

Blackmoon Canal
Built across a dangerously narrow channel that leads from the Blackmoon Sea to the Ebonsand, the canal is one of the most complicated marvels of Meldoarian magical engineering to exist, and its presence helps ensure Meldoar’s control over all southern sea trade.

The Bone March
An inhospitable cold desert that appears to have been drained of color, as the black soil and gray dust is only occasionally dotted by stagnant pools of water, lone and dead trees, and small clusters of dark rock; even the sky is always the same stale gray.

Corinth
A carefully guarded religious city once controlled by Jlantria, Corinth’s hundred-foot walls provide shelter from barbaric Gorgoloth raiders and harsh winter winds. Corinth’s remote location and its relatively weak military capabilities are the only reasons it is not the most desirable Sethian city-state to relocate to. The Church of Corvinia bears a stronger presence in Corinth than in any of the other city-states.

Dirge
Old Koth. Long thought destroyed during the Black Dawn, it was discovered a few years ago that Koth remained, though it has changed. Now a city-state of hostile undead and tainted by warped, chaotic magic that shapes matter seemingly at its own mad whim, the twisted and nonliving citizens of Dirge, thankfully, keep more or less to themselves, though that is bound to change.

The Dusk Hills
A solemn expanse of short hills, thickly populated by dense trees that keep the area dark regardless of the actual time of day. The Hills are most notable for the presence of the Sulaj, who quietly make their homes in the deepest, darkest folds of the area.

The Ebonsand
The largest body of water in the known world, the Ebonsand separates Sethia from the unknown lands to the east; it is vast enough that no one has ever crossed it in its entirety. The Ebonsand is a haven for pirates, brigands and unchecked criminal activity, and traversing its waters is considered risky, at best.

The Gray Sea
This cold body of freshwater was once completely controlled by Jlantria; it is so named due to the heavy mists that creep along the surface like smoky eels. Strange aquatic creatures roam the misty waters, as do human and exiled Dracajian pirates.

The Grimm Steppes
A deep set of earthy clefts, broken valleys and steep drop-offs dotted with blackened hollows and rocky hills. Though relatively small and isolated, the Steppes are incredibly dangerous, and are avoided by all save the strange denizens of Dirge, which lies to the northeast.

Kalakkaii
Kalakkaii has become one of the last bastions of civilization, a refuge for any lucky enough to escape the Bone March and the mad city of Rath. The population of Kalakkaii swells then ebbs due to disease and trouble with human bandits, red Dracaj and occasional Troj raiders; lately organized crime has also become an issue, as rival gangs have made attempts to subtly take control of Kalakkaii’s last remaining exports (namely wheat, dried fruits and nuts, silk, paper, skins, oils, parchment, clockwork tools, and wax).

The Nethermost
The Nethermost is a vast network of twisting tunnels, behemoth caverns and dark underground cities under the surface of Sethia, populated by underground cities and settlements belonging to the dominant subterranean races, places such as Meledrakkar, Ildraz'zakuul, Shul Ganneth, Voth, and Blackfang, ruled by bizarre races like the Cruj, the Eidolos, the Dracaj, the Maloj, the Tavash, the Regost, the Lith, the Shav, and the Gaj. There are many access points to the Nethermost, but most are difficult to locate, as well as heavily guarded.

Rath
Rath is the last city of Meldoar, a necromantic metropolis ruled by witchcraft, grotesque bio-arcana, astrochronomantic clockwork technology and depraved weaponry. It is widely accepted that Rath is a dangerous place, but the Meldoarians are bound by their own secret agenda, and little true information is available on Rath outside its own walls. The city remains a dangerous and frightening enigma.

The Razortooth Mountains
This sharp and craggy mountain range once served as a Jlantrian barrier against possible invasions. Difficult to pass and populated by dangerously sharp rocks in some places, the Razortooth Mountains are more notorious for the hundreds of Bloodspeakers slain there in Jlantrian run death camps during the Black War.

The Reach
The Reach is a vast expanse of snow, icy plains and frozen tundra. The Gorgoloth tribes make their home in these bitter plains, and the shells of Jlantrian military forts stand along the perimeter of the Reach in a ghostly chain. Besides the Gorgoloth, the Reach is also home to a great many snow bears, giant elk, ice worms and winter wraiths.

Rhaine
Rhaine is an ancient, dreary city of cold stone towers, well-used docks, cracked cobblestone streets and dismal weather. It is a haven for pirates, prostitution, slave trading, magical narcotics, black market steam-tech and general thuggery. Rhaine is currently at war with the rival criminal city-state of Thornn.

Rift
New Koth. Rift City. New Koth is a city that has been cleft into two sections by the unnatural canyon called the Carrion Rift. The larger section of New Koth is held by the military might of a band of mercenaries called the Ebon Hand, while the smaller, deadlier section of the city is controlled by a cadre of militaristic vampires known as the Hungered. Both sides wage battle across the Rift for the fate of the city and the magic and relics contained in the Rift’s dark nadir.

Rimefang Loch
Rimefang Loch is a vast and frozen lake in central northern Sethia, connected to the Gray Sea by the River Gray. The Loch is lifeless and cold, the mirror surface of its cold waters unmoving even in the wind. Rumor has it that a sizeable population of black and gray Dracaj has built malachite fortresses along the eastern bank. The remains of Old Koth – or Dirge – stand on the shore, casting a further pall over the area.

Tanith
Ruled by the sometimes feared Brotherhood of the Chain, the city of Tanith is a repository of knowledge and wisdom, as it houses some of the most impressive libraries and mystic channeling stones in all of Sethia. Tanith is also the only city outside of Rift to house a significant undead population, an undead caste that lives in harmony with its subjugated living inhabitants.

Thornn
Thornn is a black market city whose economy revolves around drugs, prostitutes, gambling, pit fighting and smuggling. Made from great sandstone blocks, magically reinforced tents and mecha-arcanically enhanced siege towers, Thornn’s outer walls sport deadly barbed lances. Thornn is currently at war with the rival criminal city-state of Rhaine.

Wormwood
The Wormwood is a large and blighted forest. The Wormwood has become a dead and corrupted place, filled with necrotic soil saturated by foul magical energies. Rumor holds that black blood flows through the Wormwood like water, that toxic ooze leaks from the trees and that foul, and that mutated creatures roam the forest. It is also believed that the terrorists called the Revengers have somehow made a lair in this dark place, inside an unnatural redoubt called the City of Thorns.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

D&D, Black Dawn Campaign Player Handout Excerpt #2: History

THE WAR
For nearly 1,000 years, the continent of Sethia – a massive shelf of land that dominates the upper half of Malzaria – was dominated by three empires: Jlantria (a highly-religious matriarchy, highly advanced in science, magic and warfare), Den’nar (a loose confederation of desert nomads and shamans), and Meldoar (a twisted witchocracy of dark magic, thaumaturgy and terrifying experiments). While the power shifted frequently between these three forces, it was not until the Black Wars that hostilities finally came to a head.

When war did come, it arrived in the form of a revolution led by a powerful sorceress named Carastena Vlagoth: the Blood Queen. Possessed of such intense power and motivated by dark intelligences, this Blood Queen and her followers -- battle-trained Bloodspeakers, the mechanically gifted giants known as the Cruj, the barbaric marauders called the Gorgoloth, and the incomprehensible Eidolos -- cut a swath of destruction through lower Jlantria and upper Den’nar. Meldoar joined the devastating war on the side of the Blood Queen, unleashing their foul clockwork horrors and time-bending magic on the rest of Sethia.

The horror brought by the continent-wide war was unimaginable. Hordes of Gorgoloth armed with Crujian war technology stormed through western Jlantria in a tide of black steel. Crujian shock troops unleashed waves of burning gas, self-detonating golems and towers of detonating shrapnel that killed thousands. Deadly units of battle-trained Bloodspeakers used spatial rips to strike at strategic locations and assassinate key leaders. The Blood Queen led her armies from Chul Gaerog, a black mountain that existed between dimensions and that could take its commander to wherever she desired to go. The war raged for thirty years. The world shook as the seas filled with blood and the land took on the gray pallor of death. Meldoar’s Witch Knights worked with the dark engineers of Meledrakkar and jointly labored on a deadly vortex bomb called the Zero Engine, which was to end the war once and for all.
Eventually, at the battle of Crucifix Point, a concentrated effort was launched on Chul Gaerog that led to the Blood Queen’s bloody demise. Chul Gaerog exploded in a shower of black fire, cold stone and steaming blood. With it went the Zero Engine, which either detonated with no effect or else failed to go off entirely.

THE BLACK DAWN
The depths of the damage done to the world by the Blood Queen’s campaign would not become clear for another three decades, when the Zero Engine truly exploded.

Rebuilding had given the world both hope and an uneasy unity. Thirty years had passed since the disastrous War had ended. Change was in the air: the Empires’ control over their holdings had begun to wane, new forces were rising from the ashes of the war, and the public faith in their leaders had been permanently shaken. The threat of further conflict loomed. Dangerous creatures emerged from the wilderness and the uncharted seas, and the population of the already volatile Black Scar Prison swelled. People wanted change, and they embraced who they thought would bring it: rebels, criminals, killers.

And then, out of nowhere some ten years ago, on a cold morning that would later be known as the Black Dawn, the explosion came.

A true vortex bomb ignored both spatial and temporal limitations: the Engine had been constructed within and resided in a dimensional fold, a liminal space between times, places, and physical realities. When Chul Gaerog was destroyed, the Zero Engine did indeed detonate, but the effects of its devastation were released into the temporality thirty years in the future, and its effects were widespread, as the Engine seemed to co-detonate in several widely distanced locations simultaneously.

Much of Sethia was ravaged. Jlantria and Den’nar were both devastated, their cities laid to waste in silent explosions of concussive force that literally bent the air and sent ripples through flesh and ground that tore the fabric of reality to shreds. Meldoar suffered equally hard losses, though having helped design the Engine, the Witch Knights were afforded some measure of forewarning, and they managed to shield the capital city of Rath from the worst of the effects. Tidal waves swept apart most of the ships in the sea; great rifts and valleys formed in the earth, some of them miles deep. Debris and resonant foul magic from Chul Gaerog rained down from the sky, creating dismal and cursed locales such as the Wormwood and the Carrion Rift.

No conquerors came to claim victory after the explosion occurred; no master plan was hatched that capitalized on Sethia’s sudden devastation and vulnerability. The blast had simply come, and it brought the world to its knees.

NEW KOTH
In the wake of the Black Dawn, the denizens of Sethia have been hard-pressed with the issue of survival. With no centralized government, few resources, and a landscape polluted by foul magic, shattered structures and with dwindling supplies, the survivors of the Black Dawn have had little choice but to gather, and rebuild.

One of the last military fortresses left standing was a ramshackle structure called Fort Hightower, originally part of a blockage against the hostile western Reach. Before long, refugees from all across the ruins of Jlantria began to congregate there, and what had once been a small town grew into a much larger settlement that would eventually be known as New Koth. It had been a miracle that Hightower had survived at all – upon the detonation of the Zero Engine, a massive rip had pulled the small city apart.

New Koth today stands as a city divided by a mile-wide canyon that reaches at least two miles deep. Dark magic and the ruins of ancient civilization have been uncovered in the depths of the tear, now called the Carrion Rift, but this very threat has also become a salvation, for the exploration of the Rift has fueled the city’s economy, granting it goods to trade with other settlements, and a draw for would-be treasure hunters, scientists, and explorers from wherever they may be. And while an evil force has congregated in the smaller section of the city -- resulting in a constant and small scale war – New Koth has become something of a bastion of civilization in the blasted aftermath of the Empire.

While numerous other city-states have risen to put their imprint on Sethia, New Koth is unquestionably the most powerful, and likely the most dangerous. And it is to this dark, shattered place that your characters are bound, and where your fate awaits you.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Excerpt from the Player's Handout for my Black Dawn campaign: Post-Apocalyptic Steampunk Fantasy

THE BLACK DAWN

In an instant, millions died.

The Black War had been over for a decade. The Blood Queen was dead; the Cruj, Eidolos and Gorgoloth had retreated back to their lands in the Reach and the Nethermost. Chul Gaerog, the Black Tower, exploded after Vlagoth’s body was thrown off of its bladed apex. The uneasy truce between Jlantria and Den’nar would continue, and they continued to work against Meldoar, the traitor empire led by the cursed Witch Knights who’d supported the Blood Queen’s thirty-year war. The world was scarred, but it would heal, given time.

Thirty years after the war, the Zero Engine exploded.

No one even knew what it was until after it had gone off: a Possible Bomb, a temporal explosive device that waited between folds in the time stream, between the membranes of separate realities. When it exploded, it exploded across worlds: mirror bombs, alternate bombs, bombs from several possible parallel universes all detonated simultaneously, and the effects of all of those explosions spilled over to the world of Malzaria.

When the Engine exploded, the world shook, and in an instant millions died. Cities exploded in shards of stone and steel; caustic vapors swept across the land in black clouds of ash and steam; the sun was hidden behind a veil of skeletal dust and rancid smoke. Over the course of one morning – the Black Dawn – a war that was already over took its greatest toll.

Now, the Empires are gone. The cities are just cinder and rubble, and the forests and pastures have been blasted into scorched fields and smoldering bogs. It’s been ten years now since the Black Dawn, and people of the Sethian continent are still putting together the pieces. Militant city-states spread across Sethia represent the last bastion of civilization’s hope, but these cruel fortress towns wage war with another and protect their own interests above all else. Every city, from the criminal trade ports of Thornn and Rhaine to the isolationist zealots of Corinth to the struggling mercantilism of Kalakkaii, has its share of problems.

New Koth, the most powerful of the new city-states, may be the worst of them all. Life there revolves around the Carrion Rift, a deep canyon that cuts through the heart of the city: in its depths lay the entrances to an ancient necropolis of arcane lore and treasure. This place is called Skullheim, and the exploration and plundering of its riches fuel the strongest city-state’s economy. But there are things in Skullheim that would best be left undisturbed, for that city's arcane citizens experimented with dark forces and foul magic. Worse, New Koth must contend with the Hungered, a militant force of vampires at war with the city’s rulers -- a ruthless band of cutthroats and mercenaries called the Ebon Hand – over the rights to explore Skullheim. New Koth’s war against the undead forces of the Hungered carries on, day and night, from the opposite sides of the grim canyon.

But however dangerous life is in the confines of the city-states, outside it’s worse. Lawless raiders, cannibal cults, Gorgoloth barbarians and Maloj hunters stalk the wastelands, from the edge of the poisoned Wormwood to the shifting horror of the Carnivore Mists, across the barren Bone March to the frozen fields of the Reach. And there are forces that want to tear down the city-states and destroy what’s left of humanity: the armies of the vast subterranean nations of the Nethermost; the twisted monstrosities in the tainted city of Dirge; and the Meldoarian Witchocracy’s last standing city, Rath.

In the era of the Black Dawn, magic and technology are the tools to civilization’s survival, and the means by which the city-states will pull themselves into the hard future. Whether you use thaumaturgic engines, firearms, magic-powered bio-arcana, ancient shamanism or a good old fashioned bastard sword, the world needs an adventurer like you to help rebuild, to explore, and to battle off the sometimes overwhelming evil forces that wait around every corner. Riches and opportunity await adventurers brave enough to undertake tasks as such charting the path to the Bloodwinter Tomb, exploring the ancient ruins of Krezzel Dul, navigating the deadly waters of Rimefang Loch, uncovering the secrets of the Witch’s Eye and the Chain of Scars, and foiling the nefarious plans of the Black Circle.

This is no world for the weak. Prepare yourself: the battle for survival already started. Now it's your turn to join the fight.

Welcome to the Black Dawn.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

I Have Not Posted In About 4 Months...

...and that's just inexcusable. It's also because I discovered Facebook, where blogging anything more than a few words long is just overrated. It's like blogging for people with ADD.

Life has been busy, busy, busy. We have chickens. We have bikes. I'm ready to run a D&D game again. The kids are growing waaaaaay too fast. We have a garden. We're slowly but surely getting rid of the unwanted detritus in our yard. DWs yarn business is going well, and she has a big show coming up in August. Basketball post-season is nearly done (GO MAGIC!!). The weather is nice. Life is good.

Since I share most of my random thoughts on Facebook, I'll probably go back to using this blog as a repository for D&D and writing related topics. I'll try to label such posts, and I'll probably start with some of the campaign background for my upcoming "Black Dawn" campaign, a steampunk inspired 4th Edition setting that has kept me quite busy as of late. Hopefully that will go up before October...

Monday, February 9, 2009

Go Spurs!

This was a fun game to watch, and one of the best of the season IMHO.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Squirrel With a Singing Bologna Sandwich

This is a clip from "Jack's Big Music Show", a cute kid's program that DS and I both enjoy. I think this bologna sandwich is the man.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Go Spurs!

I got to catch most of this game on the radio.  I'm a fan of both the Spurs and the Bulls, but it's the Spurs who I'll root for down the stretch over...well, everybody.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

A Happy Birthday Poem to My Wife

It's my wife's birthday today, so I spent this morning concoting this Grammy-award winning song for this special day:

Today you are twenty-nine
(Again)
And that's a sign
That you're as wonderful and wise
And pretty (that's no surprise)
As you have been for so long
So we wrote for you this song:
"We Love You, Liberty
And we hope that this will be
A very wonderful time
For you."
(It's tough to rhyme!)

Happy Birthday, Angel.  We Love You.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Tools!

Ok...I have to admit that I'm not usually much of a "guy" when it comes to tools.

That's all changed.  Check out the coolest hammers you'll ever see.

Writing Excerpt from "something black..."

Here's an excerpt from my latest Nanowrimo novel, "something black...".  I'm hard at work on the sequel, "the hollow", but just for the fun of it, here's an excerpt from a "flash forward" sequence of my little scary story.

tomorrow morning…

Mist the color of blood.  A sky like bleached bones.  The wind was as cold as a winter’s breath and strong, strong enough that it could be felt even through thick clothes and the thick wall of bones that they’d built since the beginning of this war.

It is a war, Kane thought.  He’d never thought of it that way before.  He’d always thought they were just surviving, just doing what they could to keep the human race from going away, even if they didn’t know why.  But it’s not that simple, he realized.  I guess it never was.

There were only three of them now, and soon there very well could be none.  Their faces were as dry and as pale as the bones that littered the ground, and their eyes were sunken, hollow, ringed with the sort of black that, in the old world, you would’ve had to apply with Halloween makeup.  Kane flexed his fingers.  There was so much grime and grit accumulated in his skin and beneath his nails that they’d never be clean again, even if they could find another facility that actually had running water.  Much of it had been accumulated digging the Kane for all of the bodies they’d come across.  The rest had come from killing.  He couldn’t help but realize that he was rubbing someone else’s dried blood or skin into his scalp every time he ran his hand through his lengthening blonde hair.  Even now, after all they’d seen and been through, the notion of being covered in someone else’s remains made him wince.

It’d be nice to wash up, he thought, and he couldn’t suppress a quiet laugh.  Jesus, listen to mewe’re going to die, and here I am wishing I could wash my fucking hands.  Stress did that to you, he supposed.  Stress.  Understatement of the century there, bud. 

The ground was as thick as clay, dry and cold, and it smelled of age.  Dead, thick-limbed trees swayed in the bitter wind; Kane spied an occasional dry leaf as it floated across the backdrop of the bloody horizon.  They were camped at the top of a steep, craggy hill that overlooked a low valley of old farmland.  Thick, brackish water had swallowed up the crops and soil some time ago, and now the thick mist, made red by the setting sun, clung to the water like a shackled prisoner.  Kane smelled meat, old meat, and heard the sound of dying breaths, like leaking air tainted by soft moans.

“They’re close,” he said quietly.  The others just nodded.  He heard the clack of metal, the kiss of steel, the sound of guns being loaded.  It wasn’t going to do them much good, but it was better than nothing. 

Kane stood up.  Even with the trees looming overhead and the wall of bones at their backs, the world felt so…open.  Empty.  He looked up into the sky, and felt tiny, like it would swallow him up.  When he was young, he used to be just a little afraid when he stared up at the stars, shaken by the infinitesimal nature of the sky, frightened by the notion that, if he were somehow to fall off of the surface of the earth, he would literally fall forever.  He hadn’t felt that sensation for over twenty years, until now.  He knew what it meant.  They all knew what it meant, and there was no need to communicate it.  His mind went to that other world, the world before, and as he tried to remember, he readied himself: fixed the leather armor in place, secured the steel plates over his shoulders, elbows and knees; loaded the guns, too many guns, not enough guns, meaningless, all they had; the katana that he’d found in the old pawn shop slung across his back, and the knife in his boot.  He was winded by the time he finished, not so much from the physical efforts of preparation, but from the dread that stemmed from a horrible truth he’d barely been capable of acknowledging.

He could not remember life before the black.  It hung there, just out of reach: the notion of a job, of a wife, of children and friends and TV and sports and eating out, but the specific memories were blocked off, like they’d been wrapped in a sack and thrown into the water.  All he saw was the sack, bobbing, sinking, and floating away.  Soon, if he lived that long, he knew he’d forget completely that there had ever been a time before the war: a time before the black.

Kane let a single tear fall. 

The howl came fast from the night: the blood red sun had just finished its descent, leaving a faint, dripping haze on the horizon that set the mists alight.  The curdled sound erupted from the black like a knife through skin.  No matter how many times he heard it, Kane’ nerves tingled at the howls, as hard and metallic in their tone as to almost be a physical presence.  Calming breaths, one, two, three, and a flex of the fingers.  One more count, and then he was ready.

The others came to his sides, flanking him.  None of them had any reason to make a stand, except that there was nowhere left to go, nothing left to do. 

We are the champions of the damned, Kane thought.  God help us.