A place wherein this Dwarven Cleric can share his love of maps, dice, miniatures, and all things involving gaming and general geekery--not to mention the occasional witty non-gaming observations--whilst escaping from the humdrum existence of his routine Terran existence.
Hail and Well Met, fellow traveler! May my Stronghold provide a place for enlightenment and amusement, and somewhere to keep your dice dry. Enter and rest awhile.
I've never taken part in Inktober, Drawlowe'en, or whatever we're all calling it this year. I don't consider myself an artist. My last art class in school was somewhere around 34 years ago, and involved shading three-dimensional geometric objects and bowls of fruit.
That's probably why my few hand-drawn animals and people look like cartoons.
+matt jackson and +Dyson Logos inspired me yesterday. If they could try to do it every day, maybe I could as well. And Matt made a good point: my maps are in ink. So, lying in bed last night, I grabbed my pens (and a nifty new notebook I've discovered) and quickly sketched this one out.
Inktober #1: The War Fortress of the Mad King Halgrim Stonetower
(Key word: fast)
1. Massive doors lead to the entry hall.
2. Central hallway.
3. Throne room.
4. Barracks / Dining hall (s) kitchen w/ storeroom underneath
5. Dungeon: Portcullis at top and bottom of stairway.
6. Stone guardians.
7. Clerics' quarters.
8. Temple of the Dwarven War-god, Mordrim: huge anvil & forge.
9. (s) Minor treasure room; door locked and trapped.
10 Halgrim's bedchamber. (s) Halgrim's treasure room: door locked & trapped.
I almost numbered the rooms for the key, but I didn't know whether my red ink would bleed through the page. I also, intentionally, left the walls of the dungeon thinner to denote the lower level. I'm not sure whether I like the effect, or whether it works.
The other thing I learned? Background fill is tough to do in bed.
The first copies of The Stronghold Issue #3 are headed out into the wild this morning. Pushed from the nest and making that crawl toward the sea. (Hopefully they don't face the same kinds of predators on the way that baby sea turtles actually do. Sheesh. That analogy went dark quickly.) Even a few copies of Issues #1 and #2 are headed out. (Yes, they're still available.)
Thanks to all who have jumped in on the first day. It's truly appreciated. Many more will be going out the door this weekend, so grab 'em while they're hot!
**You can see a preview of the contents here. You can still pick up copies of Issues #1 and #2 as well here. --OR-- click on the link below to go ahead and buy #3.**
The first few copies came off the printer last night; the assembly process has begun. The link to buy your own copy is below; still only a print 'zine, in the old-school-style tradition.
**You can see a preview of the contents here. You can still pick up copies of Issues #1 and #2 as well here. --OR-- click on the link below to go ahead and buy #3.**
When you do pick up a copy, please drop me a line, especially if you use anything from Issue #3 in your game.
A collection of terrific—yet cursed—capes and cloaks
A new class: the Warder. A type of protector/bodyguard class for the wealthy and paranoid.
"[A] new kind of protector: one who was talented enough to heal them when injured, to avoid pitfalls when traveling, to detect the poison of a would-be assassin, and to have the strength and fighting ability to fend off a coup."
A new NPC: an information collector and thief-master, complete with a couple treasure caches...and a twist.
A new locale, The Crag: a neighborhood filled with merchants, inns, and temples, including suggested rumors, sample wares, and brief NPC sketches, all intended to provide some DM seeds. Oh, yeah...a map of the neighborhood too. It's set in my personal city of Coldtreath, but applicable in any good sized city.
A series of tables, to be used to create random meals and foodstuffs for both local and roadside taverns. I'm kinda proud of this one. O.K., in all honesty, I'm really proud of this one...mostly because it was birthed in the midst of a dream and survived into waking. Here's a couple random samples:
Mystery cakes
Roasted snake & horse stew
Shredded pheasant pudding
Diced snails & cheese
Fried dog hash
Bonus news: the Warder Class is presented in a 3.X version and a Swords & Wizardy/OSR version. In order to accommodate the OSR version,this issue has been increased from the regular 24 pages to 28 pages.
That moment when you've wrapped up layout for the 'zine, working on the Foreword and the final map...and your brain starts planning information and articles for the next issue?
Yeah. That's me last night.
But hey! Layout is done, the final map is percolating, and the Foreword is taking shape. Issue #3 is chock-full of goodness, including some contributions by friends of the Stronghold. Also some amazing artwork.
Getting psyched for a release date. I was shooting for September 1st, but I don't think that's going to happen. Hoping for next week.
I was really excited about it; new DM sitting behind the screen, new campaign. Well, technically an old campaign...call it a new old campaign. And I was juiced.
I started playing in '81. But would you believe I've never played through—or DM'd —The Tomb of Horrors?
That was the DM's choice for the new campaign, and I was really excited. Did I say I was excited?
And then, 2 hours before our only chance at a game this month...one of the guys got sick. Really sick. We were at risk of having to wait yet another month to march to our doom. I—as propmaster—and the DM put our heads together...and he said he had something. A little side quest to get us all to know each other, or at least 3 of us. And then came the request: instead of the previous list of miniatures, he needed a druid, some piercers, and some Myconids.
Myconids? Where the Hell was I going to get Myconids? And on short notice, too....
So I loaded the car with all my other gear and headed out with a little bit of inspiration. A quick stop at Hobby Lobby...and I had my myconids. As you can see, they look pretty good. They're cast of a heavy resin, fair amount of detail with the stems (at least they're not smooth), and the bottoms are flat and stable enough that they don't really need basing...unless I want to go through the effort.
Even the scale is about correct, at least in our campaign.The small ones are just barely above the top of the human miniature's head, so they're about 6'–6.5' tall. The big ones are about twice that. Both sizes have bases that fit in the 1" squares.
Each package held four small ones and one big one; with a coupon, it
was actually quite economical. It was certainly cheaper than doing it
myself.
Hobby Lobby was actually my second stop because the local Michael's was closer. All they had was some tiny ones (scaled at about 2'-3') with floral wire coming from the bottom that were more for wreaths or "fairy garden" use. I actually stopped at Hobby Lobby to grab a pin vise because Michael's didn't have one. I only asked about the mushrooms at Hobby Lobby on a whim. After a pack of those tiny mushrooms, several packages of 1" discs, and some quick-drying epoxy...well, I would have spent more—especially with conversion/prep time—than I did on the packs of the big ones.
Come to think of it, I could base the bigger ones, and use these tiny ones to add detail to the bases. I was going to return them...but.... Hmm.... I'd need some bases bigger than 1". Dang it. I should have stopped thinking while I was ahead.
The big ones represented a series of shrieker guardians in the lair of an anti-druid. The small ones saw double-use as some smaller guardian 'shrooms as well as a group of Myconid warriors captured, caged, and used as a food source for the anti-druid's Beholder companion. None of the characters had any idea what these things were; I was actually the only player at the table that, in meta-game, knew what Myconids were. They didn't register as "evil" to my character, so he risked life and limb to release these things that were speaking to him telepathically. As a result, the three PCs were named "clan brothers" to this group of Myconids. The photos were taken as we returned to the cave from a quick jaunt back to town, post-Myconid rescue but pre-anti-druid confrontation. (A dozen of them returned from their cave to aid us in our quest to destroy the anti-druid.)
The DM actually ran several test-runs of this scenario—both the beholder fight and the anti-druid fight—and it ended in TPK Every. Single. Time. Somehow we pulled both off; the only casualty was, of course, our elf, who was turned to stone. [Aside: I say "of course" because in our group, somehow, the elf is always the first to die. It has been that way for 16 years. The player who routinely plays our elf has had at least as many characters over this time as the rest of us have had...put together. No joke. We go through elves like they're made of Mountain Dew and Doritos. End aside.] My trap-finding and lock-picking skills and rolls were STELLAR and the DM kept rolling Critical 1s...so the dice were falling in our favor on every side. All in all it was a good night.We found the Crown of the Gods where the anti-druid had hidden it and returned it to the local temple, only to be offered the chance to go on several more quests to find teh powerful gemstones that accompany the crown.
So now we're left with the choice: go after the gems? or head to the Tomb of Horrors?
Choices...choices...choices.... Either way, the next month won't go fast enough!
Gentle readers, Issue #3 is one step closer to reality!
Both figuratively and literally (at least, in a literary sense).
Last night I received the digital image for the cover from +Jim Magnusson. It is, in a word, fantastic. I gave him the barest of suggestions (include a monster and the Stronghold) and he delivered in spades and with bells on. the artwork means I'm down to waiting for just one last image. And the monster in question, is leaving footprints. Big ones.
Sorry, folks. No teaser image this time around.
It truly made my day, and I needed it. Family crap again; trying to divide up my parents' estate is nearly killing me. The sheer greed and childishness that has come to light is...well, ludicrous, but also absurd to the level of humorous. I needed some good news after the emotional wringer that was my Saturday and Sunday.
Back to Issue #3: start gearing up and spreading the word. It's coming; can't you feel the earth shake?
A quick update on Issue #3 of The Stronghold 'Zine: I have received 1 of the last 3 pieces of artwork. It looks fantastic, courtesy of +Ripley Stonebrook.
Here's a teaser: a snippet of the art accompanying the new class presented in Issue #3: The Warder.
I'm really excited about this class, designed by a long-time friend of mine. It'll be presented in 3.x format. I'm seriously considering finding someone to translate into an OSR-compatible format as well. If there's any interest in this, let me know ASAP!
In other news, Holy Crap. I'm getting old. And I'm feeling every single day of it today, and then some. For our most recent anniversary, I bought tickets for my beautiful wife to a Howard Jones concert. I had never been a great fan back in the day; nothing against him—I didn't listen to '80s music back then, I was listening to '50s and '60s music. My wife, on the other hand, is a HUGE fan.
But, y'see, back...oh, 28 years ago or so he came through town and my (then) wife-to-be went to the concert with a guy. Her then-boyfriend became jealous of the attention she was showing Howard Jones, even though they were probably 100 yards away or more in an open-air, mountainside venue, where he was about an inch tall or so from their seats. But Psycho-boy became jealous and forced her to leave the concert three-quarters of the way through the concert to "beat traffic down the canyon."
That was the breaking point in their relationship, and she's never forgiven or forgotten. So I agreed, mostly knowing that she would have fun.
And she did. So do I, frankly. My wife danced through all 90+ minutes. I tried to keep up. I've never danced that long in my life. And today...I'm feeling it. 18 hours later and I still can't hear from one ear. (It was a fairly intimate venue with IMMENSE speakers.) I am stiff and sore. And exhausted.
The news is spreading today of the passing of Steve Russell, 42, of Rite Publishing. Award-winning designer, developer, publisher, and a man I was proud to number among my friends. He leaves behind his wife of six years, expecting their first child later this year.
I've known Steve since 2012 when he first responded to an e-mail regarding printing problems I was experiencing after downloading a Rite Publishing product. He had the problem fixed quickly, and responded graciously and helpfully to future questions and concerns. Looking at all the tributes, I was not alone in feeling this way. It was who he was.
About 18 months ago, I was privileged to join the Rite Publishing family, if only in a small way, assisting with proof-reading their Pathways magazine. Through these later interactions, I grew to know him a bit better and have considered him a friend. I'd like to think I was numbered among his friends as well, even though I was little more than an internet acquaintance.
My last interaction with Steve was three weeks ago: a bit of witty repartee concerning the cover for Pathways #58. Even though I'd probably put him in a difficult position, he was still gracious and friendly.
My sincerest condolences—as well as all of my thoughts and prayers—go out to his family and close friends today. All of us who knew Steve, even peripherally, have been touched by knowing him and will miss him.
The world is truly a bit darker today.
Godspeed, Steve.
Steve's sister has set up a memorial fund for Steve's wife and soon-to-arrive first child. That link is here.
Just a short visit to say that work on Issue #3 of the Stronghold is not only progressing, but we're at about 75%-80% the way there.
I had no idea it was going to take this long; real life has been busier and commitments more numerous, but the light in the tunnel is getting brighter. Artwork is in process and one last article and one map appear to be the last content necessary. Once those are done, there's the proofreading and then assembly and sales time!
Thanks to all my friends who have and continue to support me with good karma, prayers, and positive messages. They've been much appreciated. I have managed to get one door into my past professional life mostly closed. Some obligations still exist and will exist for the next few years. But the worst albatrosses around my neck appear to have been plucked, skinned, and roasted. I'm in the process of considering a complete change of career altogether, as my current situation is not improving and does not look like it can improve. But that's a discussion for another day.
Until then, be aware that I still have some copies of Issues #1 and #2. If you haven't picked one up yet, or know of someone that might like one, the links can be found below, or at Blue Moon Ink's website.
This series is something experimental, at least for me. The concept: create an encounter based solely on the four miniatures found in any one single random booster. I had originally thought about calling this a Pathfinder project, but then I remembered that Wizards had re-started their random miniature production. They're not the greatest paint jobs in the world, but then...some of the early Pathfinder paint jobs weren't terrific either.
The attached character sheet was also something of an experiment, as it has been somewhere over 35 years since I truly worked with the AD&D First Edition ruleset. Please forgive any errors, and accept them as what they are: an effort to pay tribute to that set of rules. It's also a nod to my OSR friends and readers. [But if you have suggestions regarding the character stats or character sheet—also of my design—please feel free to let me know. I welcome correction; I want to learn.] It was intended to be used on a 4" x 6" card.
The 3.x statblock follows the AD&D character sheet.
Today there is undeniable proof that the Toad God lives!
This appeared overnight in the Stronghold's garden..
(Actually, lest too much arcane mystery be attributed to the Toad God and its power strengthened thereby, I will admit that I was walking through the local Kroger's store and found him on sale in the garden aisle. At that moment, he had to be mine. ...Come to think of it, the intensity of the attraction and need...perhaps there's a bit of the arcane at work after all.)
Not wanting my children to worry about the devilish divinity of this creature, I immediately dubbed it "King Toadankhamun, Pharoah of the Frogs."
It may be easier to see in this picture: the smug, self-satisfied and satiated expression on his face. Look at the undisguised evil in his eyes and malicious pleasure on his face, as if he'd just finished swallowing a neighborhood dog, cat, or small child.
Now, the Mistress of the Stronghold—that beautiful, loving half-elf who stole my heart—isn't quite as enamored of the presence of the Toad God, especially as one of the first things that visitors would see upon arrival. (I suspect it has more to do than the potential threat posed to her beloved miniature yard moose that inhabit this garden.) As a result, the Toad Goad may soon be banished to the rear of the Stronghold where he poses little danger to anything but the occasional intruder. But he is here, now. And what better impetus could I have to revisit those various adventures mentioned above?
So, for all of you who don't know... depression really sucks.
No, I mean that. Literally.
Not only does it metaphorically suck, it sucks...time, energy, will, desire, creativity. All of that stuff goes down the drain while you sit and watch and generally wait, helplessly, as life passes you by while you wish for...well, all sorts of dire and unspeakable things. "Writer's block" has nothing on this, folks.
But thank Heavens for my Muse and some weird, pain-induced dreams this morning. They inspired some cool items and, 1,900 words later, I have a new article for Issue #3 of the Stronghold 'Zine. I'm getting closer, gentle readers, and am about ready to start actively looking for artwork.
So buckle up...I'm hoping to get this new something out in the world in the next month or so. Call it a birthday present for myself.
Yesterday I crossed off a bucket list item that I didn't even know I had.
Salt Lake Comic Con's "FanX" (Fan Experience) began Thursday and runs through Saturday. I haven't been overly enthused about it, being a bit burned out on everything, based on what's been going on in my life the past 6 months.
OK, that's not entirely true. I would have loved to have met Gillian Anderson, but didn't want to pay THAT much for the privilege. And Peter Davison was my "second" Doctor. He would have made the fourth of the Doctors I've been able to meet. [Aside: I actually did get to meet him and was able to tell him that, while he was my second Doctor, his was my first regeneration. I also complimented him on a little-known role and he showed pleasant surprise at my knowledge. Even better: all four of the Doctors I've met are genuinely nice, kind men, the kind I wouldn't mind meeting in a pub over lunch. That warms my heart. End aside.]
But I was ready to skip this Con. Just didn't have the funds or the time (or the inclination) to go this time 'round. There also really weren't any celebrities that I wanted to meet (that I hadn't met before) that warranted laying out money and time that I didn't have. That is, until they announced a True American Hero.
That word gets thrown around a lot. Sports figures get called "heroes." I've even heard movie stars and various other celebrities called "heroes." I personally think people mean "role model" rather than "hero," although most of the time that shouldn't be correct either.
But this man... there's no other word to describe him.
Dr. "Buzz" Aldrin.
Yeah. "Second Man on the Moon" Buzz Aldrin. One of seven living men to have walked on another world. A man who rode one of the world's largest explosions into orbit not just once, but twice.
I missed the moon landing by about 14 months. But my brothers remember it. My parents remembered it. I heard about it all of my childhood. The stores were still filled with Mercury-, Gemini-, and Apollo Mission toys when I was young. I had an original cardboard poster of this image on my wall when I was growing up. I wish I knew where it was; probably long lost to the local dump. I chalk that one up to an ignorant, self-centered, uncaring, and callous series of teenage years. But he was always a hero. All three of these men were.
Once I knew he was coming, I couldn't help myself. I spent considerably more than I should have, more than I truthfully could afford, so that I could get a package deal for an autograph, photo op, and prime panel seating for me and my two youngest children (my older two were able to go at the last minute, but we weren't able to get the package deal for them...just seats in the panel. But still something that—I hope—they can relate to their kids someday: the day they got to meet and hear Buzz Aldrin speak in person. Heck, I'll admit that I even put my job at risk to do this.
I wanted to participate in this, not just because of the cool factor, but because it was intensely personal for me. As my long-time readers may remember, I lost my father to cancer almost five years ago. He was Air Force, like Buzz, and they were contemporaries, although I have no reason to believe they ever met or had any association other than the wings pinned to their chest. But tears fell as I thought about how much I would have liked my father to be there and listen to these stories. I nearly sobbed out loud when Buzz talked about being on "alert" with his F-100 squadron while "bombers loaded with nuclear weapons flew overhead"; my Dad was pilot-navigator on B-47s for SAC...flying around the world with live nuclear weapons on board. The idea that one of those planes could have been my Dad's? It hit close to home and brought my Dad a bit closer...for a time, at least.
Add to this the time spent with my family today, and the chance to chill for awhile with one of my oldest friends (and fellow grumpy curmudgeon)...it was a pretty dang good day.
We could all do worse, and our kids could do worse, than a man like this as a role model. He's 86+ years old, and still spry, still working as a self-proclaimed "global ambassador for space." His latest project is trying to rejuvenate the space program and to work to get manned missions to Mars.
For those of you who may not be aware, the title of this post comes from Buzz's first words as he set foot on another world. (About 1:10 in on the below video.)
Kudos to Dan Farr and Bryan Brandenburg for another—for me, at least—successful Salt Lake Comic Con. If you're ever so inclined to travel to Utah, I would highly recommend it.
Just when I thought I'd reached rock bottom, emotionally, my mother passed away yesterday. I'm going to need a little time.
As far as the giveaway, the dice horde spoke randomly and declare +Taylor Frank as the winner of the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bestiary Giveaway!
What did he win? A copy of Paizo Publishing's Occult Bestiary ! (See here for more detail.) It's a Campaign Setting/Bedtiary chock full of psychic and occult monster goodness!
Congratulations, good sir. Your new treasure will be winging its way to you shortly.
