Friday, September 30, 2011
Inspiration
I just got finished submitting a short story to the Writers of the Future contest. Oddly, another idea just popped into my head immediately after. I guess I'll see if I can finish something in time for the next quarter's contest. I need to be able to take a piece of writing from concept to finished product a bit faster than I have in the past. It takes practice, I suppose, and the only way to get better is to do it. So far, I have a rough concept, a title and the opening scene figured out. Still a long way to go before it all comes together. Inspiration is only the beginning.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Magic time!
I'm going to take a break from the Gulf Wars posts for just a moment to get in touch with my inner geek. I know, like writing about running around with swords isn't geeky, right? Well, in this case, I just wanted to say that the new Magic the Gathering set, Innistrad, is freakin' amazing! Not in a "ridiculously powerful" sense, but in a "more fun than a barrel of goblins" sense. For those that are familiar with the game, I strongly suggest you check it out, if you haven't already. It harkens back to the days when Magic was about imagination and exploring cool new settings, rather than winning a tourney game on the third round. Not that it doesn't have some power. It does. But the feel of it is not typical of the more hardcore sets preceding it. And I like that.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Gulf Wars, Day 3 (Wednesday, March 16th) - Part Three
After our victory at the Field Battle, we gathered our things and made our way to the Ravine. The Gulf Wars Ravine is just that, a tree-filled depression in the earth located at the five way crossroads near the center of the site. It's exact dimensions escape me at the moment, but suffice to say it is large enough to contain two opposing armies. It's steep slopes are treacherous and littered with obstacles, making for a dangerous ground on which to fight. The scenario involved is a "resurrection" battle. Meaning that if a fighter is "killed" he/she goes back to the "res point" on their end of the Ravine and can then return to the fight. This continues for 45 minutes as we strive for control of three flags placed across the center of the Ravine. It's grueling, sweaty work, to say the least.
This particular day, we had arrived a bit early and spent some time drinking (water) and eating a small lunch. It was also a good time to catch up with people we hadn't managed to talk to up to that point, as there is usually a large turn out of fighters for this battle. More and more kept filtering in until both ends of the Ravine were filled with eager swordsmen/women. It took some time for things to get organized, but once everything was in place, we found ourselves lined up at our res point ready to charge into the fray. Our job was to stabilize the area between the right and center flags, about halfway up the slope. Easy enough. We knew, of course, that there would ample opportunity for us to lay claim to one or the other flag if the forces holding them were to falter. Battle is, after all, fluid.
The marshals called "lay on" and we hurried out on the battlefield, quickly arriving at our position and engaging the enemy line. Things became a blur of fighting, killing, dying and walking back to the res point. Wash, rinse, repeat ad nauseum. The fighting went on and on as the right hand flag changed hands again and again. The sides were so evenly matched that it was a constant back and forth over about ten feet of ground. At one point, I found myself next to Ysabel at the extreme upper right side, at the very top of the slope. The flag was ours at the moment, but we were being pressed hard. An enemy fighter with a two-handed long sword had been giving our people grief there for several minutes and it was time for him to take a walk. With Ysabel keeping his friends off me, I stepped up to engage him. The length of his weapon made it difficult to get close enough for a kill shot, so I settled for targeting his hands. A longsword has an open hilt, which makes the hands fairly easy to hit. Sure enough, within moments, I had landed a solid shot to his off-hand. He cursed and switched to a one-handed grip on the longsword. Not really very optimal for him and he knew it. Before I could press my advantage, a hold was called and we kneeled down to wait. The issue (which I never found out the details of) was resolved and we rose to resume the fight. At this point, the longsword wielder, acting out of desperation, threw an excessively hard shot at my upper left arm. The blow struck with such force that my entire arm went numb. As he struggled to recover, my other blade snaked out and took him squarely in the remaining hand. "Well struck!" he said loud enough to be heard over the din of battle and faded from the line to go res. Being down an arm, and seeing that our side had control for the moment, I stepped "out of bounds" to effectively kill myself and went back to my own res point.
My left arm began to function again, though it hurt like the dickens. I spent some extra time at the res point getting water and letting the pain subside a bit. The bruise left by that shot ended up being pretty epic! Once I had rested sufficiently, it was time to gather up some fighters and head back up the right slope. By this point, everyone was starting to tire and move a little more slowly. Despite the lag, the fighting over our flag had only intensified as both sides realized that time was almost up. As the struggle to claim control of the flag grew to a fever pitch, there came a loud *snap* and the flagpole actually split in half! We had fought so hard and so valiantly that the structural integrity of the wooden pole was compomised. Fortunately, the battle was merely seconds from being over, so in the end it made little difference. Time was called and we all collapsed in an exhausted heap. Well, perhaps not that dramatically, but we were definitely worn out. After all that effort, no clear winner could be determined and the battle was declared a tie! Such are the twists and turns of war, I suppose.
The fighting done, we made plans to go into town for dinner at a mundane restaurant. Tristrim and Rayne were to be our companions. After the heat and exertion, we were all looking forward to some civilization. Little did we know that we were about to embark on a journey through a desolate land utterly devoid of comfort or pity. Not to mention food. A wrong turn (whose fault it was is irrelevant) led us astray and we ended up on a dirt trail barely fit for modern vehicles. Fortunately, we had all piled into Tristram's SUV, so we avoided getting stuck on the less than ideal track. A dirt "road", which we thought would take us to the rear gate of the camp, ended up going straight into the depths of the surrounding nature preserve (or whatever you call a seemingly endless expanse of tangled woods and treacherous bogs). By the time we had realized our mistake and turned around, Ysabel was starting to succumb to a bad case of hunger mixed with heat exhaustion. She had pushed herself too hard in the Ravine and the result was a screaming headache, nausea and dizziness. Not to mention irritability. Lots and lots of irritability. We did eventually find our way back to the camp and then, much later, to the local Red Lobster, but Ysabel, the poor dear, was too sick to eat anything but saltine crackers and water. I felt terrible eating in front of her, but I was famished and suffering a bit myself. Needless to say, it did not end up being a good evening out. Getting back to camp and collapsing into bed was a huge relief. For all its ups and downs, the day was finally over.
This particular day, we had arrived a bit early and spent some time drinking (water) and eating a small lunch. It was also a good time to catch up with people we hadn't managed to talk to up to that point, as there is usually a large turn out of fighters for this battle. More and more kept filtering in until both ends of the Ravine were filled with eager swordsmen/women. It took some time for things to get organized, but once everything was in place, we found ourselves lined up at our res point ready to charge into the fray. Our job was to stabilize the area between the right and center flags, about halfway up the slope. Easy enough. We knew, of course, that there would ample opportunity for us to lay claim to one or the other flag if the forces holding them were to falter. Battle is, after all, fluid.
The marshals called "lay on" and we hurried out on the battlefield, quickly arriving at our position and engaging the enemy line. Things became a blur of fighting, killing, dying and walking back to the res point. Wash, rinse, repeat ad nauseum. The fighting went on and on as the right hand flag changed hands again and again. The sides were so evenly matched that it was a constant back and forth over about ten feet of ground. At one point, I found myself next to Ysabel at the extreme upper right side, at the very top of the slope. The flag was ours at the moment, but we were being pressed hard. An enemy fighter with a two-handed long sword had been giving our people grief there for several minutes and it was time for him to take a walk. With Ysabel keeping his friends off me, I stepped up to engage him. The length of his weapon made it difficult to get close enough for a kill shot, so I settled for targeting his hands. A longsword has an open hilt, which makes the hands fairly easy to hit. Sure enough, within moments, I had landed a solid shot to his off-hand. He cursed and switched to a one-handed grip on the longsword. Not really very optimal for him and he knew it. Before I could press my advantage, a hold was called and we kneeled down to wait. The issue (which I never found out the details of) was resolved and we rose to resume the fight. At this point, the longsword wielder, acting out of desperation, threw an excessively hard shot at my upper left arm. The blow struck with such force that my entire arm went numb. As he struggled to recover, my other blade snaked out and took him squarely in the remaining hand. "Well struck!" he said loud enough to be heard over the din of battle and faded from the line to go res. Being down an arm, and seeing that our side had control for the moment, I stepped "out of bounds" to effectively kill myself and went back to my own res point.
My left arm began to function again, though it hurt like the dickens. I spent some extra time at the res point getting water and letting the pain subside a bit. The bruise left by that shot ended up being pretty epic! Once I had rested sufficiently, it was time to gather up some fighters and head back up the right slope. By this point, everyone was starting to tire and move a little more slowly. Despite the lag, the fighting over our flag had only intensified as both sides realized that time was almost up. As the struggle to claim control of the flag grew to a fever pitch, there came a loud *snap* and the flagpole actually split in half! We had fought so hard and so valiantly that the structural integrity of the wooden pole was compomised. Fortunately, the battle was merely seconds from being over, so in the end it made little difference. Time was called and we all collapsed in an exhausted heap. Well, perhaps not that dramatically, but we were definitely worn out. After all that effort, no clear winner could be determined and the battle was declared a tie! Such are the twists and turns of war, I suppose.
The fighting done, we made plans to go into town for dinner at a mundane restaurant. Tristrim and Rayne were to be our companions. After the heat and exertion, we were all looking forward to some civilization. Little did we know that we were about to embark on a journey through a desolate land utterly devoid of comfort or pity. Not to mention food. A wrong turn (whose fault it was is irrelevant) led us astray and we ended up on a dirt trail barely fit for modern vehicles. Fortunately, we had all piled into Tristram's SUV, so we avoided getting stuck on the less than ideal track. A dirt "road", which we thought would take us to the rear gate of the camp, ended up going straight into the depths of the surrounding nature preserve (or whatever you call a seemingly endless expanse of tangled woods and treacherous bogs). By the time we had realized our mistake and turned around, Ysabel was starting to succumb to a bad case of hunger mixed with heat exhaustion. She had pushed herself too hard in the Ravine and the result was a screaming headache, nausea and dizziness. Not to mention irritability. Lots and lots of irritability. We did eventually find our way back to the camp and then, much later, to the local Red Lobster, but Ysabel, the poor dear, was too sick to eat anything but saltine crackers and water. I felt terrible eating in front of her, but I was famished and suffering a bit myself. Needless to say, it did not end up being a good evening out. Getting back to camp and collapsing into bed was a huge relief. For all its ups and downs, the day was finally over.
Friday, September 2, 2011
My Apologies
I am deeply sorry for the lack of posts in the past few months. I will continue my Gulf Wars stories as soon as I find the time. This Summer has been a bit of a creative drought for me, but hopefully Autumn will see the return of my Muse.
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