Return to Vvardenfell

Dragons, schmagons. Silt striders and skooma addicts are where it's at. We've been having computer troubles for some time - our main PC died a sudden death and not having the cold hard cash to buy a new one, we've just been coping without. We have our own laptop/netbooks for internet access, the back-up desktop works just about for that too, and the Wii keeps the Terror occupied gaming-wise. Then 11/11/11 happened and, not being able to move on the internet for reviews, progress blogs and general Skyrim-related chatter, we began to feel a bit left out. At this point my clever other half pointed out that my laptop ought to be able to run Morrowind. It was, actually, one of the reasons I bought such a high-spec laptop when, ostensibly, it was only needed for work: mostly text-editing. So she went ahead and installed WINE, Morrowind and both expansions, and found, to delight all round that it did indeed run. Until you got into combat or tried to load a saved game at which point it crashed. Fortunately, that was easily solved by downloading the latest version of WINE instead of the stable version, and, despite occasional problems with sound, it mostly works fine. Of course, that now means all three of us are fighting over my laptop - because now the boy is old enough to be able to play with only minimal help. He can read and understand most of the dialogue, he has no problems with the controls and when he gets the hang of finding quests for himself he'll be away. Currently he seems to be hung up on creating new characters - he's got four now, different races and classes but all fighters and all barely out of Seyda Neen - but hopefully he'll settle down soon and get deeper into the game. He's been watching me take on a Dwemer ruin with some fascination, so maybe he'll try and head there at some point. Maybe I'll prompt him in that direction. And, gee, but I'd forgotten how much I love this game. Even though I've played it so much in the past that I doubt there's much "new" left for me to do, I keep finding things I'd forgotten all about and just wandering round and doing things in a different order is being fun. And the alien environment of Vvardenfell appeals to me much more than the more Earth-like greenery that was, admittedly, so stunning in Oblivion. I also much prefer the approach to the main storyline - you can and indeed are encouraged to ignore it to start with - something that didn't really feel possible in Oblivion what with the end of the world happening and all that. Not that it's a perfect game by a long shot, but it's currently being enjoyable and the fact that I - hardly an accomplished gamer - have managed to complete it and most of the side-quests I've attempted is definitely a point in its favour. It's feeding our family's craving for Elder Scrolls action for now, and despite the arguments about who's turn it is, it's bringing us together by giving us a common current obsession. All of which means that I'm quite happy to put off buying a new computer until after Christmas, when we should hopefully be able to afford it. And I probably won't be dropping it immediately to rush off and play Skyrim instead. Although the dragons do look very cool....

[Fiction] Terribleminds' "Brand New Monster" Flash Fiction

I often think about trying to write something for one of the flash fiction challenges Chuck Wendig regularly throws out, but rarely do I get very far. But for the latest one, I actually managed to sit and finish what I'd started. And then agonised over actually entering it because I'm really not happy with it. But as it's the first thing I've actually written in ages,and it might not actually be as rubbish as I think it is, I thought I might as well go ahead. I still haven't thought of a title for it though.

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Legs aching, chest exploding, eyes losing focus; every step, every breath hurt like hell but I just kept running and running and running. I had to get away from that...thing.

I can barely remember what I was doing before I found it. Why I was late home, why on earth I was on the wrong side of town in the pouring rain without even a coat. I guess I must have gone straight to Rob's after work. But now I was miles from there too, and soaked to the skin and terrified and running for my god-damned sanity -- and I can't even remember how or why. I think that's what it does. It lures you out. Calls to you on a subconscious level and leaches your very memories away.

I found it in a box. An ordinary bloody cardboard box, like it was a broken lamp or an abandoned kitten. Lying by the bins amongst all the other rubbish in the back alley. Not Rob's back alley. I'd already gone a few streets by then. Why the hell didn't he stop me leaving the house? Had we argued or something? And I looked in the box like it was the most natural thing to be doing in the world: poking around the rubbish in a nowhere street in the pitch black and pouring rain. I looked in the box and it was there.

It was bigger than the box, I'm sure. It must be my size at least. Vaguely man-shaped but looking for all the world like it was made from a sock. You know, a huge woollen sock. Crazy, huh? Who could be afraid of something as daft as that? But the mouth. Dear god, the mouth....a gaping maw of darkness and heat, no teeth, no tongue, just a few tendrils wisping out and the sickening stench of blood and vomit. And as it rose up in front of me I felt the overwhelming urge to move in and give it a hug, let it embrace me, and I so nearly did, until at the last minute Rob pulled me back.

HE WAS WITH ME. The realisation so nearly, fatally,made me stop dead. I stumbled slightly but managed to press on, the fear of the impossible creature behind me propelling me forward as I tried to make sense of my fragmented memory.

He was with me. We must have left his house together. Went for a walk -- in the rain? It doesn't matter what our rationalisation was, it must have been that thing calling to us. Why else would we have gone to that alleyway? Why else would I have opened that soggy cardboard box? And then he saved me. Pulled me away and told me to run and then, stupidly, stopped to stare as the monster grew bigger and threw itself towards us. I stopped too - stopped and watched in horror as it enveloped him.

How could I have forgotten that? How could I have forgotten his scream?

A kerb nearly tripped me up and brought me back to the present. I didn't dare hesitate to check behind me, somehow I just knew it was still chasing me. That slight mental tug that had drawn me to it in the first place. Having escaped, I now only wanted to get as far away from it as possible. And now I had no idea where I was: suddenly realising I really didn't know, not even the name of the city I was in. If it was a city. It felt to big to be a town. I was totally lost and I was getting slower but I was still moving. Still running.

I had to keep running.

I tried to remember more about what had happened but there was nothing there. Only the stark memory of the creature's bizarre appearance and its sudden attack. Now I was digging around my memory I realised how little was left. I didn't know where I was or where I'd been. Who I was. My name? A chill hit me as I realised. I suspected the creature was feeding on my memories. And it was feeding on them even now, even as I ran. Was it gaining on me? If I stopped to look behind....

The shred of survival instinct which had kept me running all this time made me accelerate once more and I drove myself forward towards the street lights. I could hear traffic now, the first time I'd been aware of the existence of other people since...since I could remember. I headed towards the sound, desperate to find someone, anyone, who could make this madness stop. I blundered past the moving cars, not caring for the danger I was in and not noticing the drivers' angry shouts but making my way towards two tall men in familiar hi-vis jackets that some remnant of memory told me would be the ones to help. I didn't slow in time and collided with one of them, before falling, babbling in his arms and then blacking out as the cost of my exertions caught up with me.

They found Rob's clothes soaked in blood in an alleyway a quarter of a mile from his house. My deranged ramblings and erratic behaviour that night aroused the suspicions of the police, but in the end they had to let me go. Slowly, I've pieced all my memories back together; all but why we left Rob's place and went to that street.

I don't go out at night.

Fields, LARP and all that

Once again, last weekend we were in Locko Park having spent a silly amount of money and I once again spent a large chunk of it wondering if it was really worth it. Overall, though, I think it was.

My other half and the Terror both seemed to enjoy themselves anyway. I actually saw more of my SO than usual as she had some time off running encounters, and saw very little of the boy as he decamped to another group's tent and mostly played with the younger boy he first met last year. So I had some guilt and some boredom and some frustration at still feeling trapped in camp, but not so bad. I got to watch some rituals which are always fun, and didn't die or even get knocked out, and regained a bit of confidence about going near fights and actually healing people. Still a lot of feeling useless, but that was probably just my silly brain. And having a Lifemaster or two in camp for one attack. You do feel a bit superfluous then.

But oh dear I do wish I didn't suck so much at roleplaying. Failing to improvise details from my character's background is one thing, failing to even be able to recount the known parts of it is another. And how on earth did I manage to create a character who is even more shy than I am in real life? I still can't quite bring myself to retiring her and trying again with something different though. I suspect my own shyness will still be the limiting factor. And I really love the group I'm in now - they're great people to hang around with - and I can't see my next character concept fitting in so well. Plus I'd have to find different kit and all that. Effort. Probably not worth it.

Anyway, that's it for me this season, and next year I'll probably go through all the same worries and feelings and thoughts and end up coming to the same conclusion: I'd miss it if I didn't go and all I can do is keep trying to get more involved. Now I just have to try and get my mind back in this world.