Part of what makes a great game designer is their ability to write effectively. Whether it is a riveting story for an RPG or a simple comment in a design wiki, it is important that a designer can get their point across. This section of my site showcases my efforts to sharpen my writing skills.
Under Construction
The Lou Shanks Rebellion (LSR) Blog series is a grand tale told in a collection of short "posts" from the points of view of the characters. The characters are all in the same World of Warcraft guild and the story follows thier rise to fame and fortune (so they hope). The latest additions can be found at the top.
Sherwood
Today, I question my belief in the Holy Light. No kind and loving supreme power could allow one such as Hogger to roam its lush lands. I can’t really talk too much about the things I saw and did there. It makes me ill. Terror does not begin to describe my feelings during the early stages of the battle. We are alive … but we are changed men. I just … how could a creature of a lesser race DO those things? A when he used …
I’m sorry I need to be alone.
Marker
Holy balls! I consider myself a mage at the top of his game. Nothing surprises me; nothing rattles me. That said, I was surprised and rattled by Hogger’s prowess for battle. I would attribute it to an incredible desperate strength awakened in a cornered animal, but that would imply that he felt desperate, or that we, at any point, cornered him. No this gnoll was ready for us. I think – no I’m sure he heard about our run in with his little friends at the kick-off party. Yeah he was ready for us. The bib gave it away.
Let’s see if I can provide a play by play here. It’s myself, Sherwood and Barboso walking into the clearing we were told was Hogger’s stomping grounds. We see some bones and simple rope. Barboso makes some comment that he “didn’t think them critters capable of fashioning a sturdy rope” a comment he would later pay for. All of a sudden we hear three sharp growls. Instantly we are surrounded by a ring of gnolls. It was clear that these mutts were not simply dogs that could walk upright. They had quite a bit of coordination. At this point Sherwood thinks we’re dead. Some leader … of course I agree with him. Barboso fades out, doing his little sneak trick. I am instantly reminded of the day in grade school when I cast aside the rogue training application in favor of the mage form.
Some chatter amongst our opponents. Apparently it was being arranged that Hogger would fight us alone. To some this may have seemed like a lucky break, but being there, it certainly didn’t seem like it at the time. Hogger steps through the circle and into view for the first time. He’s the size of like five gnolls. I found myself diagramming what the Hogger suit would look like. Three gnolls on each other’s shoulders with two gnoll sized arms on the sides. I chuckle to myself. Sherwood gives me a twisted look.
Clearly, it was up to me to make the first move. I concentrated and threw a massive fireball. Despite my knowledge that magic does not work this way, I am forced to describe Hogger’s reaction as “batting away” my spell. He deflected it into a gnoll in the circle who was incinerated. (This totally counts a confirmed kill by the way, circumstances be damned). Now, I didn’t force him to kill his friend, so when he got incredibly mad after John Q. Gnoll turned to ash I was honestly feeling like “well, that’s what you get buddy”. I was later informed that I said that out loud.
Hogger charged Sherwood with incredible speed. Credit to my man Sherwood for drawing his weapon in time to most likely save his own life. Hogger threw attack after attack at him, battling him back closer to the ring of savage gnolls. Things were looking bad. I tried to freeze the beast but I think my frost nova was more of a refreshing splash of cool water to his seething hatred for us. BAM BAM! We catch a break when not one but two small figures suddenly appear behind Hogger stabbing him madly in the haunches. Milky and Barboso! For a brief moment things seemed to be getting better.
Seeing a sinister grin form on the face of something with four sharp daggers in its rear end is a terrible thing. Hogger was acting as if this turn of events was in his favor. I soon found out how this could possibly have been the case. Hogger threw his hammer at me. First of all, ouch. Second, despite our adversary’s brazen attitude this looked like another point for the good guys! He was unarmed! In a ridiculously short amount of time however, Hogger had rearmed him self with half of our team. That’s right, myself and Sherwood were now facing down a 7 foot tall gnoll dual wielding gnomes. What followed was a frantic chase around the circle as Hogger scored blows with his deadly new “gnome-chaku”. At some point I blacked out.
When I awoke I was being carried over the shoulder of a kindly brown-skinned man. To my left I saw Sherwood carrying both Barboso and an agitated Milky who was trying to break free from his grip. A sea of angry gnolls was at our heels. Before losing consciousness again I saw that we were all enveloped in a shroud of glistening golden light. I am instantly reminded of the time in grade school when I decided paladins were sissies. Thank the Light for sissies.
Reggie
The names Reginald Tucker. You can call me Reggie. These Shanks boys saved my life. I was watching their tussle from my cage (my home during my forced tenure as Hogger’s “manslave”) when some sorta albino gnomish chap was thrown clear of the circle and shattered my wooden prison. Next thing I knew, I picked up the fellow with the suave mustache and ran like the dickens. I called upon the powers of the heavens, powers I had thought abandoned me, and they answered.
I took this as a sign. I decided then and there to join these brave men in their never-concluding quest for justice. Justice had to wait until later though, on account of the gnolls that were chasing us.
Milky
Milkovich here. Under a bridge, tending to wounds. Think I bought those gas heads enough time for a picnic lunch. The whole countryside was after them. It was the big dark haired galoot with the fire and whatnot. Magic tricks. He turned a township into a mob. How’s that for a magic trick. Idiot.
I’ll tell you what I tell ‘em all, I wear the wheel for one reason: the fighting. These guys are animosity magnets. Nobody likes these guys. It’s like some fantasy land where every sap in the neighborhood wants to pick a fight with me. Fits my disposition.
A gnome’s life is a hard one. No getting around it. There are two ways to play it. Some take the easy way out. Play it cute like. “Ooo I’m a wee little gnome! My hair is puffy pink and I am just loving this whole deal!” Bleh. Not me, I take the hard road. I’m the gnome that makes the night elves wonder why they agreed to this. I’m the gnome that makes the dwarves wanna go take back our city themselves to get us outta there. I’m the gnome that makes the humans keep a small stool in the closet just in CASE I happen to show up. Yeah, I walk the hard road. No mecha-toys for me. No fartin’ around on a tinker chicken. My name is my knife. AND I SIGN THINGS IN CAPITAL LETTERS!
Grrrrr.
I should go. I bet they are pickin new fights as I’m sittin here. Thanks for listenin.
Sherwood
We are on our way. It’s really happening. Our first true mission as a team, a unit. Every group of heroes has a first mission. There will be mistakes, sure, I'm ready for that, but it’s going to be so nice to have accomplished something.
Gnoll infestation is the kind of work with no down side. No gnoll’s rights groups to be hassled by. No real challenge from the opposition. No sweat. Gnoll’s are a simple pest. Heck I’m surprised this Hogger has a name. He’s like their little leader. It’s almost adorable when you think about it. Minus the drool. Anyway, more preparations to make. Should be back soon with an uneventful after action report.
Barboso
Farms as far as the eye can see. Not that these old eyes can see too far anymore. Damn kids these days strap glass jars over there eyes and they can see better ‘an me. Always offerin’ to make me some. I don’t want yer damn fool googles! What was I talkin’ about again? Oh, farms, aye. Humans love their farms that’s sure. Love ‘em much as my people loves their tinker toys I’d say.
I’m not one fer current events but I think we’re out here on account of the dark-haired magely chap there on the left gettin’ us kicked outta Ellwyn Forest. Maker! That’s his name. Troublemaker is more like it. Yep, he’s got the other feller all fumagatin’. Wood something. Curse my years … Stickwood .. no it’s Driftwood. Oh wait, he’s the boss man, Shorewood. Similar to driftwood y’see. Not a happy camper.
Had to pick up and hit the ‘ol dusty trail pretty quick back there. It was touch and go for a bit, but times like that are when my people shine. Milky stayed back to buy us some time fer the escape. What a coot. Reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age. Minus the lack of body hair mind you. Never understood that.
You see much like the dwarves we gnomes are typically proud of our hairy heritage. Take my beard for example, haven’t touched a hair since long before we lost the great city. I’ve been confused fer a marmot in my day! Young lady that made that gaff also made my day in the process! Not this Milkovich though. No respect. He’s good with a knife, but seems to me he damn took a sharp one to every last inch of his pale self. Scares me sometimes.
I could go on but it looks like somethin’s been decided. Without me o’course. Not that I’m much help in these parts. I need a nap.
Marker
Well mister peace and justice is not to happy with my decision to fast track our journey. It’s a matter of opinion really, he doesn’t think that ticking off and entire realm of people and beasts was what it was gunna take to get our show on the road. I say go big or go hearth. Anyway word of us hasn’t crossed the river just yet so that’s to our advantage. We can earn our keep at a local farm house if we deal with a gnoll problem not far from here. Just one measly gnoll. Sound like a bargin to me. We set out at twilight. Milky is gunna be sorry he’s missing this. “Hogger” won’t know what hit him.
Sherwood
Clean up from the inaugural picnic is just about done. We paid for the trees and fencing that were destroyed. I wrote several letters of apology to local law enforcement and land owners for the noise. Apparently they thought the fourth war had begun. All in all I guess it wasn’t a total disaster. And I didn’t even have to clean it all up myself! Marker volunteered to help replace the sheep that perished in our encounter with the kobolds. I was surprised to see him so eager to help. Maybe this guild is going places after all.
Marker
Crap, crap, crap. Not good.
Ok so here’s the deal. Since I knew anyone else would mess it up I volunteered to do the lion’s share of the “clean up” from the party yesterday. Barboso ran out of throwing knives so he started throwing some local sheep at the kobolds as they tried to escape yesterday. Now that’s what I call Shanks Brand Ingenuity. Unfortunately it’s what the local guard calls “unlawful slaughter of domesticated wildlife or trusty companions”. So we get slammed and have to replace all four sheep that died so that men may live without fear of kobolds. These sheep were heroes! To replace them is to dishonor their brave sacrifice! Personal gripes aside, this was an easy gig – so I thought.
I head straight to the place any mage worth his salt would go to get some strong healthy sheep replacements – a grey wolf’s den! The polymorph spell is a beautiful thing. Within minutes I had not four but twelve healthy sheep ready to be loved. And love them that old shepherd did. It is truly a great thing to see the light in someone’s eyes when you’ve just made their day. It’s just something that I’ll never get tired of.
Well to make a long story short it seems the magical arts that were taught to me in my youth are not as rock solid as my ingenious plan. I just sat down to my drink at the pub and one mangled corpse of a shepherd later I’m being chased by the Goldshire town guard, an angry mob, a pack of wolves, and several recently orphaned sheep. Now this may make me look like the bad guy but I’d like to point out that never in this land’s history have the law, the common folk, and animals of both calm and nasty demeanor been behind a single cause. That’s unity right there folks and it brought a tear to my eye. Or maybe that was the sheep clamping it’s jaws on my arse.
Anyway, this does not bode well for the guild’s land lease in Ellwyn. We might have to set out on those epic adventures ahead of schedule. About time I say! Most of the guys are itching to stretch their legs. I’m just doing everybody favors today!
Sherwood
So I just got back from the inaugural guild picnic. I have some concerns. You see, when my cohort and I decided to keep this guild alive in accordance with the dying wish of my grandfather - may he rest in peace - I pictured heroic rescues with proud heroic heroes. I think I'm going to have to lower my standards.
Let's set aside the behavior I saw during the social half of the night. I think we can work with that. People change. Night Elves change. I've got some team building exercises set aside that should really help us all become fast friends. Racial sensitivity training, some cultural pamphlets, a seminar on respecting gnomes in the workplace, things like that. No really it was the events immediately following the kobold attack that have me concerned.
Apparently those in my ranks that aren't complete cowards are reckless psychopaths.
Take Milkovich for example. Here's a gnome who for most of the picnic looked about as happy as a murloc in a frying pan. Total grouch. Then, when the blood-thirsty kobolds assault our little affair he lights up like Winter Veil's morning! Based on the look on his face you'd think these were his old war buddies showing up with a keg of cherry grog. If it was not for the considerable pain and suffering he caused the kobolds during our encounter I would have marked him for a traitor. I've never seen anyone find so much pleasure in warfare and I saw an orc fight once. From far away, but it still counts. His martial skill was admittedly pretty effective, however as a leader what I look for is that such skills are used EXCLUSIVELY against the enemy and not against a team member in a competition for the "last rat-man's throat". Don't even get me started on my supposed partner in all of this. He was perhaps the worst offender of the day.
Actually in retrospect I should have offered to lead those smelly kobolds on epic adventures. Talk about team work, and such heart! With the proper gear and a good scrubbing those little guys could be the statues of a great city some day. /sigh. Well anyway, I've got a lot of planning to do.
Marker
Lou Shanks is GO my friends! Awesome kick off to our new partnership today. Booze was drunk, food was conjured, and uninvited asses were kicked! If tonight was any indication, evil should be wetting its pants right now! I shot this one dude with a fireball the size one of the crotchety old gnome with the beard! I was able to get a precise measurement because it almost hit him. So yeah, corruption is pretty screwed because the Lou Shanks Rebellion is OPEN FOR BUSINESS! Spread the word!
