When the captains of passing ships peer with their spyglasses, they can make out hundreds of small boats pulled up on the shores of Shearwood Island. Weathered and cracked, half-buried by sand, some of the boats have clearly been there for years or decades. The local sailors have dozens of tales of horrors beyond reckoning, mysterious terrors hunting those who land on the forboding island, but none of these tales answers the question: Where did all those boats come from?
No one appears to dwell on the desolate island, and those heavily-armed parties that explored the place didn't find anything, so where DO all the boats come from? It turns out that a tribe of undersea ogres lives nearby, and enjoys snacking on passing fishermen. Some decades ago, their leader encountered a powerful mage, who bound him never to sink a ship, but to allow them to land safely. In order to pervert his geas, the ogre cleverly forced boatmen onto the nearby island, where he was able to do as he wished with his victims. His successors, understanding nothing of this taboo, faithfully drive the boats of their prey to the island as their ancestors once did. Go to Comment
93. Eagles Beak
A location marking roughly half the distance between the Western and Eastern continents of a world, this island derives its name from the fact that the North-Eastern portion of the island looks like an eagles head in profile. In particular, the Eagles eye is a dormant volcano, which is the source of the hot springs that liberally dot this uninhabited island.
While the hot springs have minor restorative properties for small injuries and in general relieves tiredness, there is a hidden danger in soaking in them. A species of tiny crabs reside in these hot springs and their legs exude a substance that paralyses human nerves within seconds once in contact with skin. Go to Comment
94. Island of the Lake of Mirror
As its name indicates, the prominent landmark on this island is a lake at its centre by the name of Lake of Mirror. This island has a tropical climate and is lush with greenery and teeming with wildlife. Tribes of primitive human live here in peace.
The natives of the island believe that gazing into the lake on a cloudless sunny day allows one to gaze into ones souls. The shamans of the native tribes often gather on such days on the shores of the lake to meditate and exchange lures with each other as well a undergoing the ritual of cleansing ones soul of impurities. In addition, the youths of the tribes come to consult the lake for their *true names on their 14th birthdays.
* The children of the tribes are all named at birth by their parents. But once a child reaches adulthood, which for the tribes is the age of 14, this childhood name is not in use anymore. Instead, the adult has to find his/her true name. According to tribal custom, an adults true name is discerned via consultation with the Lake of Mirror. Go to Comment
My first character was in a homebrew furry game. He was a frog named Ryu, and eventually, he got transformed into an evil robot warrior representing the planet Pluto and battled an army of ants in Africa, and then was destroyed by a hamster in a mech...
We were 11, it seemed cool at the time. Go to Comment
I set the waybac for 30 years and it threw a lot of dust at me. So I really thought hard. I was doing more game reading and game design in the early days. I also GMed before I played. (then there was D&D, Empire of Petal Throne, Traveller, Barsoon... ) My first character might not of actually been my first character, but it is the one I actually know.. so that counts.
Arion I believe this was 1978
Arion was a half elven magic using/ thief class in an aD&D game at the local game story. Sky and Sherman were 4 to 6 years older than most of the players. They ran every friday night for several months.
Arion was less than notable. Every now and again the most charismatic player would get distracted, and Arion (run the second most charismatic player) would become the Hindmost, directing the party from the very back. (This was back in the days before we thought of Thieves as sneaky scouts, they were simply trap disarmers). My sense of geometry and drive to actually get something done made me a good dungeoner. The fact that I wanted to do more than simply mangle monsters, like see the world or talk to characters made me an aberant in the little campaign.
My "Golden Age of Gaming" began in 1977 with the advent of microgames, especially Melee and Wizard... which led us to The Fantasy Trip (1980). From that point on, I was GMing, on average, once a week for about 20 years. Go to Comment
I was 12 when WhiteBox oD&D was published and reached the west coast. You can do the search, then do the math. I remember slogging through all the SPI wargames and Napoleanoic lead minis to find boxed RPG games. I remember when we thought games without boxes were just "too cheap" to be worth the money. I remember when all polyhedral dice became round with use (can you say low impact plastic?). I remember playing Chainmail, the first time around. I remember when we thought Arduin Grimoire was just a D&D suppliment. Traveller was the only real sci fi game (beause Metamorphasis Alpha seemed like a joke) and aD&D 1st ed completely reworked how we thought about gaming (but I was totally blase about it because I had played Empire of the Petal Throne). ... Oh man, I am old. Go to Comment
I do not remember his name. Or even anything else very well. However, my first campaigned PC was a birdman soldier, with Str / Con penalties out the wazoo in exchange for some really agile flight. His personality traits were nothing special, save that he had the ability to lead, and to improvise. All I really clearly remember was one of the other players turning to me and going, 'Dude, you're level 2, and you're capable of more destructive havoc than I was when I played an elder dragon.' Go to Comment
You wake in a pub and see that it's full of were creatures, and they're all staring at you with a scared look on their faces. As you continue on into the pub you look at your arm. You notice that your arm is covered in thick brown hair. As you continue on into the pub you look in a mirror, and staring back at you is a 7 foot werebear. As you continue into the pub people start to shy away form you. Once you go the bar you ask the weretigress that's the bartender and begin to ask her why everyone is shying away from you, and she begins ro tell you why.