It is neat to look back on old LJ entries and forum posts and see where I was, gaming and otherwise since February of 2004 when I started this sucker.
[Dreamation 2005] After the Explosion
With Dreamation coming up, it is neat to look back at my first time at the con. Here is a thread where we all kvelled over what a great time we had.
Michael Miller wrote: “As Samwise said, “Well, I’m back.”
And the Indie RPG Explosion at Dreamation 2005 went really, really well. I want to thank everyone who came out and made the event a success.
We had scheduled 28 events, and I think only three of them didn’t run due to lack of players, which is really good. Particularly considering that attendance at the con was down from their expectations.”
10 Dogs, 6 Ronin and Assorted Bombastic Aristos
Lumpley wrote: “Roleplaying is like sex, y’know? And I’m a hanging out getting to know each other, not on the first date kind of guy. So, yes, a gaming con, but I’m like, roleplay with you? I barely even know you. ”
Character Concept Brainstorm with my Girlfriend
“Me – Which character could you grab from Swordspoint.
JA – [sarcasm]I dunno, a self-destructive, suicidal, gay
Me – Now we’re on to something…”
Alterna-Western I can’t get out of my head…
“After years I tracked down the poem at the end of this message. I’d read the poem in an anthology, maybe during high school or even junior high. It stuck with me.
Then I had an image of a battered brass scarab belt buckle, holding up a worn pair of jeans. The buckle is also an amulet, keeping the rattlers away from his horse while on the trail. Whose horse? I don’t know. I don’t know yet. But I know his dusty boots are engraved with cats chasing snakes and the heels are worn. There is a leather band with hieroglyphs around a black hat.
What we know as the Mississippi is the Nile’s Brother. The Brother bisects the great states of upper and lower Rosetta with its gambling boats in the shape of great hippos, red-stone pyramids and Bast-run brothels.
North and South Rosetta are at odds, last month a fight broke out in their congress and all augurs seem to see nothing but plagues and Angels of Death in their tea-leaves. The Pilgrim-slaves of Lower Rosetta seem to be biding their time, waiting for something.
Texas is a state afire with a range wars between the cattle barons. The Wooden Horse Ranch in Troy County has gained the enemnity of many of the most powerful barons. Rumor has it the blood is being spilled over a woman.
The northeast has been settled by great lodges of Norsemen with runes carved in the bullets of their six-guns and totem poles adopted from their neighbors with Odin atop Thor atop Loki atop Fenris atop a Turtle.
The east was settled by the army of a Roman emperor from the old country who has since fallen to his brother’s knives. The senators of the Republic await the coming war between upper and lower Rosetta greedily, hoping to gain more land.
There is also this hazy image of Little Pyramid, a town on the border between Upper Rosetta, Lower Rosetta and where the Norse hold law. The pyramid that gives the town its name is no bigger than an outhouse, has been worn away by time, said to be a general from Rosetta who was peppered with arrows from the native tribes. The glyphs are worn memories.
The Exodus maybe parting one of the Great Lakes rather than the Red Sea. Sly Uli makes his way back home after the war through old Mexico. It is a wild west where every mythology I loved as a child meets in the dust. Six guns meets Set. High noon for Horus.