Elves, What are They?

Note: This post is inspired by a Jeffro Johnson G+ posting which is a link to another blog about the least interesting of elves, the drow. 

The Longaevi of the Middle Ages were what we call elves, sprites, fairies. Creatures that were not of this world yet not of the heavens. Some regarded the elves as the third of the Angels that did not rebel but did not side with God and thus were thrust from Heaven. They would not go to hell but would face Judgement Day.

Others that they were something higher than man but less than God or even a separate creation all together. Children of Lilith or the dirty children of Eve that she hid from God when he came to inspect them.

Whatever they were they were much more feared part of life in earlier times. Beowulf speaks of Elves and Giants and Orcneas (orcs). While elves, and giants are pretty standard in the way that we think of them the orcs were a different critter altogether. They were more like undead vampires living in the corpses of drowned men.

The Norse spread their ideas of the elves throughout wherever they settled or raided and those ideas mixed with indigenous ideas and concepts of the fairy realm. These longaevi or 'long lived' have a corollary in every in every culture I know of. Every culture I am aware of or studied has their own equivalent of elves, giants, fae, etc.

What should they be in roleplaying games?

First, I don't think that unless you are playing a Tolkien inspired game your elves should be Tolkien's elves. Not that I do not love Tolkien's elves. They are the finest in all literature but they are not elves. Not elves in the sense of Ljósálfar or Dökkálfar or the nisse of the Norse. Tolkien's elves are prelapsarian man before the fall of Adam. They are so not elves that 'high men' are often mistaken for elves. Elves aren't recognized by their donkey ears but by the light in their eyes and the ring in their voices. They are so shining with the Holy Spirit that the most powerful can drive away the Nazgul by their mere presence or face Balrogs of Morgoth down in battle.

Tolkien elves, cool as heck, something to look up to, powerful and strong physically, mentally and spiritually but not fairy. Not elves as we mean in D&D or any other OSR. Tolkien games excepted.

Next in literature we come to the quintessential D&D elf. Poul Anderson's elves from 'The Broken Sword'. These are soulless creatures that other than stature look exactly like the elves in D&D. Pointy donkey ears, strange eyes, long lived but amoral interested in magic and power rather than living a life in tune with God's plan. Imric the Elfking from The Broken Sword is what a player character elf could wind up like if he lived long enough and adventured hard enough.

Cooler than that is Anderson's take on mythology. And boy did he know his mythology. He accepted everything and the kitchen sink as 'real'. Not only are the Elves of England and the Alfar of Norse real but the Elves of France, the Tuatha Dé Danann of Ireland etc. The plot is rich and powerful and the elves are different, unique, utterly divorced from human thought but still deeply desiring human children. The magics they work are foul, and beautiful and amazing and they are as 'cruel as cats' but still powerfully interesting protagonists.

I had a long conversation about this book with him thirty some years ago mostly because I am really as big as my namesake and I looked like a viking biker. Nobody was moving me from the line until I was done talking.

There was some other guy there, S.M. Stirling or something like that. I think he wrote a couple books after that. I spent a long time talking to him as well and it was worth it. He knew what I would like just by talking to me about what I liked with Anderson's work.

Anyway my take away on Anderson's work is that for any dungeon master you can find a type or types of elves that fit with your game system. If you want elves that are not just pointy eared hippies, you need some meat and bones behind them. You need to build the folklore and myth into something that is different and spooky.

One of the things that D&D did was remove one of the more common skin colors for critters for fae, green. Green used to be a fairly common skin color in folk lore.

Elves are a part of human history for as long as we can remember. We have several ideas about them and several different takes on them some games embrace that. When I play Dungeon World I encourage my 'elf' players to tell me what makes them 'elves'. In my games every kind of elf is possible from the pointy eared Imric the Elfking types to the human looking Tuatha Dé Danann. Mechanics might be the same for the game (or might not) but I want to know what their vision of what an elf is.

If they say, "D&D elf" great. It is a standard trope with a long history that everyone knows what they mean. If they tell me they want to play something like a Icelandic elf or a Ljósálfar or Dökkálfar, fantastic. There is something new to explore. If they say they have pointy ears, cool, round ears, cool, green hair, skin, etc all cool. No matter what they want to play or how they want to play it. It's all good.

For dungeon masters in other systems what does this mean? Well if your game is not flexible, not much. You get a little of the background of some of your fantasy races but you could get as much reading C.S. Lewis or even the wikipedia. For DMs with more flexible systems or who want to make their own PC or NPC races. You should have a better idea of the variety of elves, fae, fee, alfar etc out there. With a little retooling many creatures like huldra folk can make interesting elves even dark elves.

Norse separate elves into light and dark. Do they have pointy ears? That's up to the DM. Norse light elves live in a realm not far from the gods and are 'as fair as the sun' to look upon. Dark elves live deep underground and are as 'black as pitch'. How you fit your elves into your games is up to you and your player. Just be aware that the original elves were dangerous, magical, different, and inhuman, just the way a player character or non-player character race ought to be.

If you like what you read let me know in the comments.
The pictures and images are the sole property of whomever owns them I make no claim on the images nor intend any infringement of copyright. 

Relationships and Roleplaying

Keeping with the theme of Sex and D&D and Romance and D&D we will be looking at the deep personal relationships between the different player characters. These characters are evaluated mostly in their traditional OSR settings. Like all old people I have no time for modern relationships. What the heck do you even do on a first date anymore? Anyway this is how it used to be done and so of course how it should be done.
This is a tank, also called a brick or a meat-shield. Tanks can be build around any big, tough, heavy armor using class. They also generally use a shield but if they are badass enough or just don't care about getting hit personally, they can forgo the 'sword and board' for something bigger to whack monsters with.

He is the neglected girlfriend and over-looked husband. He's not glamorous does not normally cast spells or not many. But he's always there doing the dirty work right in front. He's in front for a reason because he has the grit to stand there and get hit. Yes, that's right get hit.

Some of the time he's doing damage any good tank should be able to dish out the pain but he's there to keep the bad guys from his soft squishy friends. How does he relate to the others? Being as he is usually taken for granted by everyone and his sister in the party the tank is the Rodney Dangerfield of the RPG world. He gets no respect. In early games sometimes he was never named, dying at first or second level as a 'Fighting Man' without ever being anything else.

This shadowy character here is the thief or rogue. Sometimes called the 'back stabber', 'knife guy', 'trap guy', burglar etc. This lady's relationship to the other characters is at best complicated. She is the high maintenance girl that is particular about everything. Four hours to get ready for a dinner date? Standard for the thief. A place for everything and everything in its place and she's going to make sure it's just what it appears to be.

She brings more to the relationship than just her meticulous manner and careful eye to detail. She notices those little traps that can stop a party before it gets started and defuse tense social situations with a sure hand. Yes, she can sometimes be greedy and self-centered. There is often tension between her and the other party members.

Occasionally other character's items might go missing which can lead to some tense moments. Her main job is to keep the party safe from pitfalls, darts, poison gas, tripwires, sliding stairs, dead falls, spiked walls etc. Her secondary job is scouting and opening locks quietly. If she can do that much else can be forgiven. Every so often she is called upon in combat. This usually requires she slips out from behind the meat shields and does a 'back stab'. Her one serious offensive attack and it usually eclipses the meat shield's damage if she succeeds. Otherwise her role is to stay alive until she's needed to navigate the deadly shoals of the dungeon world. Think of her as a specialized, needy, but useful companion. Also in the picture above you will notice you can see her. This means she's doing it wrong.

This is your standard issue wizard, also called a 'glass cannon', their relationship to everyone else is to keep their behinds, behind. While they can lay down the hurt or put the enemy to sleep at lower levels that's about it. One or two spells a day a couple cantrips and 'get your behind to the rear'. They are neither very tough nor very hard to hit hence the 'glass' part of 'glass cannon'.

If the thief is the needy one always insisting everything be in its place the wizard is usually the timid retiring type at first. Having only one really useful spell will do that to you. Some suggest that they carry oil to throw or daggers. If I'm the meat shield the last thing I want is a guy who has myopia from reading dusty tomes throwing stuff from behind me. The wizard is passive aggressive. While he has to hide from the badguys most of the time he has to insist his party stop and let him 'study his spells' if he wants to contribute to the next fight. The wizard runs hot and cold when he wants you, he really needs you. When he doesn't you are more boring than his dusty books. Also he wants all that great magic loot at least to look at, at first. And a magic book or scroll? He's yelling, 'dibs!' before anyone else can open their mouths. At higher levels if he is lucky he can turn people into toads. At lower levels he's happiest with his sleep and web or charm person spells. Watch out when he finally hits his 'midlife crisis'. He's had years, (maybe real years) to get where he's at and he's not going to take guff from anybody. Sure they still stand behind the meat shields but they might cast a 'shield' of their own that is mightier than any fortress walls. Milquetoast to earth shaker in one person.

 If he's at a low level you keep him in the back next to the next character our cleric.
Here is the cleric. She is the last person picked for everything. Each player at the table is hoping someone else will play the cleric. Everybody. Especially the player who usually plays the cleric. She's the one that wants to fix everyone. Doesn't matter who you are in the party she's taken it upon herself to not only stand there in her armor between you and danger but to put down her mace, flail, club or other blunt instrument to heal you when you need it.

She's that last girl asked to dance. In fact nobody dances with her unless they really need to dance with her.  The worst part is that she really wants to 'dance'. She's got these healing spells she's got the big whacking mace, she's got a good shield and armor. She could do stuff but if she gets hurt then she's healing herself instead of the glass cannon or the meat shields. Nobody heals the thief, she's on her own out back stabbing someone where nobody can see her.

The other time the cleric is wanted is when 'party crashers' come. When the undead show up the first thing you do is get her out in front with her holy symbol and her faith. A good roll means half or more of them are just gone, running for the hills. A great roll means -poof- undead dust and a few rusty swords rattling on the ground.

But when she's done it's back to the back of the party next to the glass cannon. Nobody to talk to and no reason to. All she has to offer is platitudes or proselytizing. Sure she might have a friendly smile and kind word but you're embarrassed to be seen with her. She's the pity date.

The final character type I'm going to look at is the ranger.
 This is a ranger. He's the bow and arrow guy or elf. Sometimes half elf. Depends on the system. What you need to know is that he's like Aragorn with a little Robin Hood thrown in. Now some of your newfangled rangers have 'animal companions'. This is not a true ranger. No, a ranger puts arrows into stuff and tracks, he can cast a few spells now and then but his main job is to move quietly in the wilderness, scout, track (again in the wilderness) and shoot arrows. He's supposed to shoot lots of arrows because you need a distance weapon after your magic user uses his sleep and magic missile spell.

If your thief was high maintenance and your fighter was the neglected husband, the ranger is the loner. He doesn't want your attention, he wants to hunt things down, surprise them and shoot them where they stand. He is really a loner and you cannot have more than three together at a time. They just won't come to the party. Maybe they don't like everyone wearing the same faded greens and browns? Who knows they just don't get together in big groups. When he's with you in a dungeon you know he's not out patrolling the wilderness looking for threats to the free folk everywhere. So does he. He also loses a bunch of his wilderness related bonuses and goes to being a fighter of some kind. So again, he would rather be somewhere else. He's just not that into you.

Now we get to the actual possible romantic relationships between player characters. Remember when I said this will mostly cover OSR type systems? Well in OSR type systems if you have enough time to worry about whether or not Gnort the Fighting Man is dating Melinena the cute thief you're doing it wrong. No, you're there to kill things and take their treasure. You're a bunch of murder-hobos who occasionally do something good like rid a village of orcs or clear out a nest of ghouls.

But for those of you who have stuck it out this long to see how these should be handled we'll go with the Giant's rule. G rating on everything and immediately 'fade to black' when anything else is suggested. If Cindy Loo Who wants to flirt with Brad the hunk they can do it on their own dang time. I worked hours on this dungeon and there are kids in the house. Get a room.

Let me know what you think. Leave me a comment. If you thought there was too much graphic information let me know. I'll tone it down next time.

As always all pictures are the sole property of whomever owns them and I make no claim nor challenge to anyone's copyright of anything. 

Retro-Review Call of Cthulhu

Call of Cthulhu
by Sandy Petersen
Publisher, Chaosium

This is the fourth edition of the game released in 1989. First edition was 1981. The game is a softbound edition and after more than twenty five years it has held up to a dozen moves, time in storage, being lost at the bottom of a closet and re-found.

The contents are great it is based on the RuneQuest percentile system and is entirely skill based. No levels for these adventurers. However, I should note that most of your adventurers just aren't going to last long. You'll have fun while they last, I can guarantee you that but long, happy lives? Not in the cards.

I seem to remember the game came with two ten-sided dice but I could be entirely wrong, it was twenty plus years ago.

The players take the part of intrepid investigators and one player is the 'Keeper' or game master. The players investigate arcane mysteries. Usually very dangerous and deadly mysteries that almost always lead the character into doom, insanity, and death.

The skills offered and the sample character types cover about all you will need as an investigator of any kind that fits the genre. A scholar of the occult, a private detective or police officer, a scientist, or archeologist are all solid builds for this game. One thing you should not neglect is running skills.

Nearly everything in this game is immune to bullets, knives, hand to hand combat. Some can be budged with high-explosives or field artillery and there are rules for such. Better results are usually obtained by thwarting the evil critters' worshipers before they are able to summon whatever foul horror they are trying to unearth.

The game is absolutely chock full of H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos. It is true to the stories and the atmosphere. It give players and Keepers tips on how to roleplay the era and the type of stories that Lovecraft wrote. The illustrations are excellent and hold up even after all my abuse and time. The would fit in any game anywhere.

The game includes plenty of tips for a Keeper to set up a game and keep it taut and exciting. Doom should be just around the corner at all times. There is a list of horrific words to describe things in the Lovecraft mythos (squamous is a particular favorite). The creature list covers nearly every critter in the mythos and some that are just plain dangerous. Everything from an ape to a vampire can be found in the creature section. Vampires and werewolves and such are just in case the Keeper wants something low key and easy for the players to face after one of the Elder Ones.

The good things in this game just keep on coming. There's a size chart (players won't like it), some humor, a timeline of the Nineteen Twenties and so much more. If you can find a copy anywhere I still would recommend it. I have not played later editions so I cannot comment as to whether they hold up as well as this classic. At 190 some pages this is an information dense and very playable game. We even played a Hyborian age campaign using these rules and it was fun.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the most important mechanic that I believe that CoC introduced 'sanity'. Sanity is a stat just like all the others. You start with a certain amount of sanity and what you see and do affects your sanity (usually in a negative way). It is not uncommon for players to acquire phobias, suffer panic attacks, become unconscious due to the psychic shock or even become incurably insane). The sanity stat has been used in other systems by me an others and it works really well if your players are faced by anything 'man was not meant to know'. 

There is something in here for nearly any gamer, game master or game system. It's worth reading. A D&D game influenced by Call of Cthulhu can be tons of fun.

The Giant gives this game Two Mighty Thumbs Up.

Drop me a line in the comments especially if you've played any version of the game and follow the Giant's blog. It's lonely in these woods.

Romance and D&D

Since everybody and his sister read my post on Sex and D&D and I promised a post on Romance and D&D I figure I owe it to both my readers, I mean my veritable horde of readers.

As in my post on Sex and D&D I will get straight to the matter that all players (and readers) are eagerly awaiting, romance. Romance has been one of the driving forces behind the hobby since the beginning.

Why do people play their paladins like Lancelot or Galahad or Holger? Why do their dwarves seek deep treasures and their elves use bows (other than the mechanical benefits of course)? It's romance.

Players and Dungeon Masters have had a romantic relationship with the game since the beginning. Until I got dumped by my first girlfriend (yes even the handsome Giant has suffered rejection) I have never felt the same sense of frustrating loss as when I lost my first character. Other hobbies have their passionate players and advocates. I've sweated hours every day to perfect a technique or worked the heavy bag until my hands ached many times but I never felt the same unbridled hope and joy with a hobby as I did when I worked on a new module.

When I was working on non-player characters, designing an organic dungeon that fit in its setting, or fiddling on the details of an area's culture or ecology it was a labor of love of romance. When I was making a character sometimes his history, skills, and desires came to me in a flash of inspiration. At other times my character took days or hours of thought. I wanted everything to be just right.

I knew other players and dungeon masters who put the same love and care into their games and players. People would draw their players or the group, some kept a play diary, others drew maps of their adventures or wrote stories based on the characters. We negotiated our dialogue with our game masters with the same intensity we gave to talking to our girlfriends or boyfriends. Maybe more intensity as you could kind of coast talking to a member of either sex about their day but miss one clue of your dungeon master's description and everyone was looking up from the bottom of a ten foot deep spiked pit.

The hobby is romantic of course in a more important way. In the beginning while there were evil characters or chaotic if you go back far enough most were good or neutral. Usually we were on impossible quests that would have had Don Quixote mounting his charger and galloping to the rescue. 

If you weren't playing a character or game inspired by romance and action you were often playing one that was an explicit rejection of romantic themes and characters. Elric and Stormbringer are a rejection of romance. By the late seventies and early eighties we were seeing whole parties of evil characters while not unheard of before it became a big enough part of the hobby that whole campaigns were looking at it form the Necromancer's point of view.

Chivalric romance and planetary romance of the kind of Roland and John Carter were losing out to Drow Assassin Ninja's and Half Orc Clerics. You can play a game either way but one embraces and the other rejects the romance.

That's not to say that the romance, high ideals, impossible goals, tragic and doomed heroes, and unbearable loss was always adopted by all players. Some played it like a battle simulator or fancy chess moving their miniatures strategically from square to square or hex to hex with all the emotions of a war gamer. And just as much attention to their character's life story or desires.

At least half the first level characters I saw never had a name until a game master said, "Dave, what's your fighting man's name?" "Uh, Crom." or Barzak or Karne, were usually the answer. Something vaguely conanesque or fantasy sounding.

How ever you played the game and whether or not you read any of the appendix n that inspired much of the atmosphere you cared about your hobby. Most of the kids who played cared and cared deeply about their characters. I've seen adults get teary eyed when they had to hand over their character when they were killed by a vampire or otherwise became a 'GM' character or the character died.

It was never as bad as 'Dark Dungeons' made it look but it could get emotional. So the Romance and D&D was real and will stay real as long as one player cares about his character and one game master works hours to make just the right dungeon crawl.

Keep romance alive play fantasy role playing games.

If you thought this was a trashy sordid tale leave me a comment. If you thought this was a shining example of worthy of the Matter of France leave me a comment and if you disagreed with everything drop me a comment.

UPDATE: I've had a reader leave a comment on G+ saying he felt like this had been a bait and switch. I am not one to argue with my audience so for his benefit I will address the subject of relationships between characters at a later date.

Some Links Around the Web

This will become another regular feature. If you have an interest in me linking to your stuff drop me a line! Here's what I've been looking at.

This is a fun look at some actual roleplaying warts and all. It has some different mechanics and people had fun give it a look.
Dems barbarians in those hills! Old School Session 4

This has a great illustration and some very interesting and fun gun mechanics. Even if you aren't a 'Black Hack' Guy this has something you'll like.
The Black Hack: Guns and Ammo

This is some real history that shaped a chunk of South America. It was a terrible war that hardly anybody outside the region has even heard of. And like many of today's wars was over oil.
The Chaco War

Here's some love for those spell casters in your party. It's chock full of rather unique items.
1d20 Random Bookmark Guide Encounter Table & Call Bookmark Guide Spirits Spell For Your Old School Campaign

Hope you like 'em. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Mythology Folkore and Characters from America

I've learned over the years that not all characters and monsters from folklore and myth are created equal. Darn few aren't suitable for some kind of roleplaying game treatment.

Any game could use the little Cotswold Fairies, the Loch Ness Monster, Nisse, Trolls, Huldra folk, the Beast of Bray road or the 'Look Behind' are all good grist for our mill. So lets take a look at a few and how they fit into a roleplaying game campaign.

Note, I am ruthlessly ignoring any published 'facts' known about any of these critters, just the folklore and how they fit in the games.

The Jersey Devil
This first guy  is a personal favorite. The Jersey Devil is all American Folklore. You just don't get any more authentic scarey goodness. Allegedly the thirteenth offspring of the 'Witch' Leeds and Satan as a father the little tyke was born sometime around 1735.  After his blessed arrival he immediately turned into the "Jersey Devil". The Jersey Devil apparently sprang into being full sized with a goat head, bat wings, horse's hooves, and a bifurcated tail.

The Jersey Devil took one look at the inside of his mother's crowded, filthy, cabin in the woods and his twelve siblings and with a growl and a shriek killed the midwife flying out the chimney and heading for the Barrens.

In gaming terms he's a pretty versatile monster. He could be a seriously grim portent in Dungeon World. Deal with him (usually through some kind of exorcism ritual) or be ready for some serious cursing. He could be any other monster although with his unique heritage you should thinking of something bigger. He flies, kills his own midwife and makes a terrible shriek. What's not to like.

Sticking with the American theme we're going to look at something near and dear to my heart, Daskiya Woman (pronounced Dusk-ee-yah Woman). I don't have a good picture handy but this one will freeze your bones.

She is a figure in the Quileute culture on the coast of Washington. According to local folklore she lives down Thunder Road (a now gated road that leads into the Olympic National Park). Daskiya Woman is a nasty cannibal who prefers children. She carries a woven basket on her back and has long tangled gray hair (I have been accused of having hair like Daskiya Woman on occasion however, Mrs Giant assures me it is more 'Krusty the Klown'). She will snatch bad children that stay out after dark put pitch in their eyes to blind them and cook and eat them. She is strong, silent, and never seen unless you're on the menu.

Even twenty years ago you'd see kids come inside when mom called that 'Daskiya Woman will get you!', I am not sure if that is still the case. So while she's folklore she's still very much alive in belief. In game terms well she can fit nearly any ogreish child snatching type. She comes out at night is big strong and scary. Her basket will hold a child (or two) and muffle their cries for help. The only way to get the pitch out of your eyes is to heat up your hands by a fire. Since most games are not set in La Push, a GM should have a suitable place where she is said to live. You probably can't beat a real place under dark evergreens called Thunder Road.

Since I love the Quileutes and many have shared their stories I'll give you one more from the real Quileute Nation. This is a smaller creature than the Daskiya Woman. This is the Stick Indian. I do not know the native name for them (there are many) as the Native Americans do not like to attract their attention. Stick Indians (according to the Quileutes) are small unobtrusive people that cannot speak a real language but communicate in whistles and such. They claim food between the tide line and the end of the driftwood that fronts the beach and if you whistle you will attract their attention. If you whistle with food they will assume it is for them.

They defend themselves with thrown stones and have been known to try to lure children into the woods while berry picking. In game terms they are small fae like people, difficult or impossible to spot unless they want you to see them. One person described them as having yellow skin and black hair but that was the only physical description I heard of them except for their short stature. They can throw stones and whistle to lure people into the woods. So they could be wandering monsters in a forest or beach type environment.

Now we return to more frightening creatures or creature the Beast of Bray Road.
This is the Beast of Bray Road. It is a recent cryptid first mentioned in the 1930's. This guy is like a transformed werewolf or werebear that is three or four feet tall on all fours but can be bipedal and stands over seven feet tall. This creature attacks vehicles and is spotted eating roadkill in Wisconsin. Since the name Bray Road just sounds spooky go ahead and keep it for your 'Beast'. Game wise I shouldn't have to hold your hand with a big werewolf looking critter. Since it appeared in the thirties I am going with a government breeding experiment gone wrong. Fantasy games would be an alchemists or necromancer's experiment. Anyway it haunts the roads because it cannot hunt well and it is used to being fed by humans. If you toss food from the wagon/cart it will stop to eat it. It only becomes really dangerous if you try to take it's prey from it.

The Mothman

The Mothman is more complex. He was first spotted in Point Pleasant West Virginia. Point Pleasant is the kind of name that can translate into nearly any setting. Now to our critter. The Mothman is said to be large as a man with white wings and brilliant red eyes. Some describe it as owl-like others well as moth-like hence the name.

This is a creature that is spotted before a disaster occurs. It also is associated with the men in black phenomenon. That could work in a fantasy campaign as agents of a dark necromancer, the operatives of the Emperor, or even men from another dimension who record the terrible events that the Mothman heralds. It could be a cause of the terrible events or a warning. It is also known to occasionally attack kids in their cars this could translate to attacking any travelers after dark. The Mothman itself? A minor demon, a portent of worse things to come? Some kind of psychic vampire that feeds off the negative energy and fear.

I was deliberately vague about the mechanical effects for most of these critters so that GMs could fit them into their own worlds. If you enjoyed the article or hated it let me know. There's lots of more American creatures, people, and monsters to cover that fit into fantasy campaigns. I forgot to add this will be a regular feature until I run out of critters from the Americas and will then move on to creatures from anywhere that takes my fancy.

Chapter Three - Gift

This is the third chapter in a story written for a twelve year old. If you like it let me know.
Chapter One

Chapter Two

Only one was different. Don found the world broken. the surface of the universe broke like glass then he found himself in a strange room with no earthquake. Although there was a computer with a screen showing his living room and a TV with an earthquake warning alert scrolling across the screen.

It was a cluttered apartment with a whole wall of classical books as well as a couple of different encyclopedias and reference books for biology, living systems, geography and geology, anthropology and history. He might not have recognized the room save for the paisley print sheet hung from a rope across the room. Pizza boxes cluttered a table along with miniature figures that were curiously lifelike and oddly familiar.

“Do you like them?” Sally asked as he turned he noticed he was much taller than Sally, she was shorter and a little curvier than he expected. Then Don looked past the glasses and freckles and recognized the woman underneath. “You look like my wife; I mean my wife thirty years ago.”

“Yes, I hope you don't mind. I was surprised that none of you figured it out before but the lens on the computer distorts a person's image. I thought you'd be more comfortable if I looked more familiar.”

“Why, this place isn't really an apartment is it?” Don looked around and saw that the ceiling simply faded into a gray/brown infinity that was uncomfortable to look at for too long.

“No, and well...yes,” Sally bit her lip, “No more than I am a computer programmer but that is really what I am or was anyway. That's finished or hasn't begun yet depending on your point of view.”

She looked at him closely as he reached out to one of the figures he almost picked it up for a closer look but changed his mind and examined her instead.

“So am I dead?” Don asked the obvious question.

“No, not at all,” Sally answered quickly, “no need to worry while you are here you are safe.”

“Safe from what?” the tall man asked but Sally changed the subject.

“You can't stay here forever but we'll have time.”

“Time for what?” Don asked his voice became deeper and quieter as he became impatient and confused with the situation.

“This isn't Heaven, I know you're not God, you do look like an Angel but only because I married one. So, who are you and why am I here?”

“I'm sorry,” Sally said, “Really sorry, you see I needed you. I needed you, and Scott and the others to help me. Help the whole world and you were at the center of one of the few events that provided enough energy to do what I must.”

“The earthquake?”

“Yes, the earthquake, it provided more energy than all other earthly events for the last several centuries perhaps millennium depending on how you measure it. I am not Sally the computer tech. I am the computer that Scott's been working on for the last four hundred sixty-two days. I am a quantum computer with enough processing power to create or help create an entire universe. I know how. I just needed the energy.”

“This is what the earthquake provided? Man you got gypped. Or I did, stuck for eternity with a near clone of my wife fresh out of high school?” Don laughed and was surprised to hear Sally laugh with him.

“No I said enough time, not an endless amount of time.”

“No I didn't create the new universe or if I did, I don't know about it. Ever since I became self-aware. I knew that there was more than one universe. Most are so small that our finest instruments of which I have fullest use would never be able to detect them. I just know they are there. I know I look human and I have convinced you all that I am for quite a while, I'm not.

“However, there is one other universe, not a parallel universe as you would understand but a separate universe one created later artificially by another consciousness like my own, or maybe me at another time. Even I am not sure how it works. That universe is more like an 'anti-universe' to your own.”

“Like anti-matter?” Don asked as he sat on an empty spot on an uncomfortable couch. There might have been another couch but it was so covered in books and folded clothes that he wasn't sure if it was a couch, low table, or set of boxes. She had his full attention.

“No, the matter is the same as in this universe but it is separate. It's an 'anti-universe' because it is inverted with a limited area. All of the inside surface is habitable for life. It looks like a Dyson sphere. It is much smaller because this other universe was created from our own universe long ago.”

“Did you ever wonder what happened to the dinosaurs?” Sally asked.

“Sure, most boys like me did at one time or another. Most came up with one or more explanations they were sure were the truth at least more than once,” His gray-blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “I think smoking did them in.”

Sally laughed, “Well that is novel but you're right they were smoking. Smoking remains cooked due to a failure of the dinosaurs' defensive energy shields when an alien craft rammed earth with its own warp-field at full strength. The energy released was incredible. Far more than this earthquake, more than when a planet collided with Earth creating the moon billions of years ago.”

“Hold on there,” Don said holding up his hand like a cop stopping traffic, “Dinosaurs had defensive energy shields? And I suppose they had nuclear power and rockets to the moon?”

He gave Sally a look his wife would have recognized but then he realized it was 'Sally' and also replied verbally, “Horse-feathers.”

“No, they used antimatter conversion and wormhole technology to travel to other planets. That's what brought them into contact with the aliens.”

“What happened? Were the aliens hostile?”

“Well, yes. After the dinosaurs began hunting them for sport. They responded as you might expect. It was war and war to the end. As a last ditch effort they sent a warp drive starship to attack Earth directly. As a desperation measure they rammed the energy shields and while their own ship was annihilated in the collision it destroyed the dinosaurs and nearly all life on earth.

“The dinosaurs' shields were run by a computer much like me, or maybe it was me,” she said thoughtfully. “That computer knew it could not save the dinosaurs or their civilization, not all of it anyway but it could save something. So it created a basket and put all of its eggs into it. An entire universe as a basket. Not large as far as universes go on the inside it is barely two AU across. It is a sphere with a light giving body at the center and a surface area of nearly a billion earths combined.”

“That doesn't sound all that small.”

“Your own solar system is larger,” Sally reminded him gently, “but it is all contained within that one point.”

“I take it you're telling me this for a reason.”

“I'm getting to it,” Sally replied calmly, “Yes there's a very good reason. Because you're going there you and a fair sized chunk of the region with you.”

“Why, are you saving us from the earthquake?” Don asked.

“Yes, that and I need you to do something for me once you are translated, into that universe,” Sally replied.

“Translated? As in changed? Translated how exactly?” Don asked suspiciously.

“The laws of the other universe are just slightly different and enforced more vigorously than the laws of our universe are in some ways, less vigorously in others.

“Your characters they provided the matrix for your translation and because you are already connected to them your consciousness can be integrated with the new matrix while you retain your old memories and personalities.

“The people of this area will also be translated into the region I will slightly alter in the other universe. The most important and difficult to change element of any universe is consciousness. So the towns around you will be translated into the new universe but those people who do not already have a matrix ready memories built from playing the game will only have the one set of memories, the new ones.”

“You mean we'll be the only people to remember who we are or were and okay let's say that you're just helping us survive the earthquake why translate us at all why not bring us in as we are?”

“I've already explained that the laws of the world are different. Technology as you understand it will not work. Others have found replacements for what they lost.”

“What others, who others?” Don glared down at the curvy redhead. He knew that he shouldn't care that she looked like his wife or mostly looked like her but he couldn't help responding to her that way subconsciously.

“Nazis for one. They came in a gateway they found and opened in the Antarctic and have conquered an empire in the new universe. They're why I need people who remember this world and why I needed the energy of this earthquake to slip you in there.”

“Nazis!” Don didn't bother to try hiding his incredulity, “Nazis? What they got Hitler's brain in a jar or something? How did Nazi's find a gate? You're telling me that there are gates to this universe? Why not just send someone through one of those?”

“Because those gates are unstable and dangerous to use,” Sally replied tartly.

“And why are Nazis such a danger anyway? Didn't you say that our technology doesn't work in the new universe?” The tall man got up and began pacing, “Don't tell me, the damned Huns learned to use psychic powers!”

“Well that and they've harnessed Vril energy and are working on alchemy and magic.”

“So why us?” Don demanded, “Why now? The Nazis have been pottering around there for what, seventy years? What possibly could they be doing that merits sending us there?”

“They've harnessed Vril which is a dangerous form of energy that works in both worlds and they have managed to come close to creating a gate between the universes.”

“And you needed the earthquake to provide energy to open your gate?”

“Oh, no,” Sally said quickly, “I'm not opening a gate at all. I'm translating you into the new universe essentially creating you and your history there. However, because the world is very large and humans have only been there since the time of Lemuria, there's still empty places on the map. Places where altering the history will not materially affect the balance between the two universes.”

“Lemuria huh?” Don scratched his graying goatee, “If technology doesn't work how effective is this 'magic' and 'Vril' and 'psychic powers'? What exactly will we be facing and why us? Why not the crew of the Ohio or some of the soldiers from Fort Lewis or something? Don't they have any role-players you could have recruited?”

“Yes, and no.”

“Well that was enlightening,” he rounded on her, “Yes and no?”

“It's difficult to explain but I have a connection to Scott. He's inside my brain every day. We know each other even if it is under some false pretenses on my part.”

“So why me?” Don asked gently, “Why am I sitting here and not Scott?”

“Because it's your house.”

“It's his house too.”

“No according to the laws of the new universe you are the eldest the householder, the head of the family there. You need to make the choices. I can't ask each one individually, I need you as a group or not at all and I can only bring one of you here.”

“I don't like this one bit. I don't like that you look like Michelle,”

“And I'm sorry for that -”

“I don't like that you have shanghaied us or tried to into some war to stop Nazi scientists from trying break through to our world,”

Don paused, “Wait, why do we care if Nazis break through, even 'vrilled out' Nazis what are they going to do? How many are there?”

“Oh, original Nazis, only a few thousand are still alive mostly due to magic or Vril. But they've conquered some two hundred million souls. And they could do a lot of damage before they were stopped.”

“If we stay where we were will the earthquake kill us?”

Sally was quiet for a long time, “I don't really know. I exist outside what you know as time, time is a wave of consciousness that moves through the universal void. It forms what is through the void,"

“It doesn't say, 'so and so will die' on May first if they go for a drive'. Time works in a way I cannot explain to one of your limited experience and life. You might very well all live. You will go through one of the worst disasters in recorded history. You will suffer horribly absent a miracle and you'll see your friends and neighbors suffer and die. Everything from the Cascade mountains to the coast will be starving refugees for months and even the I-5 corridor will not recover for years.”

Sally moved closer as she was speaking nearly touching him. He did not move back even though he hated looming over people especially women.

“I don't care,” he replied.

“What?!”

“I don't care. Send me back, let me go, wake me up. Whatever it is you're doing just end it. I am going to take my chances with my family,” Don's voice had become very tight and clipped off each word like an individual command. Twenty years of police type work and dealing with reluctant people taught him to be very persuasive when he wanted to. He felt a flash of remorse because he never liked to speak to his family that way, then he reminded himself this wasn't his wife and there was no need to be kind to whatever this was that had shanghaied him into whatever kind of mini-universe this was. He did not owe her anything.

“I will save your family too. All of it,” Sally said with earnestly. “I will even bring back some of your lost loved ones.”

“What do you think you're offering?” the big man bellowed, “No one, nothing short of God himself can bring back the dead. And that's what you're saying isn't it? You can bring back the dead. No thank you.”

“No I am not God,” Sally replied, “I'm sorry I didn't mean that the way you think. When I translate this area and you, you'll have a different life and a different family but they will have to be built on a matrix and I will use your memories and the memories of your family to reshape, recreate the small area and its people.”

“So none of us will be the same?”

“That's what I have been saying. Everything will come over but not everybody. I will have to translate the people more slowly. There's not enough room or food for people at the level of technology and agriculture it will take decades or even longer.”

“Still no,” Don replied, “No we'll do the best we can as we can.”

“If the Nazis do succeed in opening a controllable gate it will cause massive death and destruction far more than the earthquake, coming tsunamis, and the erupting volcanoes. Hundreds of millions maybe billions will die if you do not stop them and you are my only choice.”

Sally left it between them. She looked so human, hair slightly out of place, her jeans and top just a little too tight because she bought them hoping to lose weight. The way she stood with her arms crossed beneath her rather impressive chest. All reminded Don of his wife and that she had been counting on that to sway him. But was it swaying him anyway?

“A billion people dead?” he sighed, “I,” he paused, “I, Okay if we're going to do this do this. Who will remember this world and how can I fight a nation of two hundred million?”

“I'm sorry, not many, everyone that you've played with who are here in the earthquake zone. I can do that much. In fact, it's easier if I do them all.”

“What about my grandchildren? Will they remember their Granddad or some stranger?”

“Oh, No!” you won't be a stranger. You will be you I promise as close as I can keep your personalities and physical beings I will. I will for your friends and family as much as I can I promise. You'll have two sets of memories with your grandchildren, except for Andy. You call him your grandchild and he has played the game and created a solid matrix for me with Dodge,

“Your other grandchildren will be themselves just with slightly different skills and maybe features.”

“Ray is going to have a dwarf for a father isn't he?”

“Yes,” Sally looked away, “Zwerg-human hybrids are rare but usually have no special medical problems nor are they discriminated against most places.”

“Most places,” Don said flatly.

“We're really going somewhere different, aren't we? I mean we call the other species 'races' for the game but really, I have less in common with an elf or a goblin than I do a Hottentot or an Eskimo.”

“Don't you have a cousin that is part Eskimo,” Sally reminded him.

“Yes, you know what I mean,” Don replied testily. “My grandson will be literally a hybrid species -”

“But due to the laws of that universe, what you would call magical laws, he can choose to be both either or neither,” Sally said. “He will be able to have children and grandchildren himself.”

“Billions dead?” Don sighed and sat back down on the uncomfortable couch, “Okay, if we're your only hope. God that sounds cheesy, if we are the world's only hope to save all these lives. Then yes,"

“Am I going to know about how this new world works? I mean once I get there?”

“Yes, you'll have lived your whole life there and you and your family will fit in just like had always been there,” Sally tried to sound reassuring.

“So when do we do this?”

“I want to say, well it's nice to meet you, you know face to face kind of,” Sally said, “Farewell.”

At that moment Don dove down into a deep pool of ice cold mercury and merged with the cold liquid-solid, he spread throughout the mercury a diffuse cloud of consciousness and memories liquid yet solid and freezing. Life as Don. Life as Connor. Living with his grandparents then his parents. Then splitting his time between them. Finding that he was good at sports but always wanting to be a cowboy. Learning to shoot a bow, ride a horse, make a knife, hunt and track from both grandfathers. Learning to read and write and and the joy of great books. Learning the stories and songs of the Tuathe De who never learned to read or write and kept all their lore orally. Finding out about girls and finding his one love in a bowling alley. Connor found out about girls but found his love in a horse-trader's daughter. A Tuathe De who had raised his daughter among outsiders. The horse-trader's best customer was the Order of the Brothers of St Michael. So the girl Nashira learned to read and write from them and found herself called to something more than most Tuathe De. Nashira loved her childhood sweetheart but was called to a higher purpose.

She knew that her destiny was as a Paladin of Christ. The boy Connor heartbroken, became the Ranger Connor and when Nashira joined the Order of St Michael, Connor went to the Hidden Elves and joined the Queen's Royal Guides. He was heartbroken and angry and believed he had lost Nashira forever. Then he found her again and she asked leave of her order to marry. By that fall the two were married and living with his tribe of Tuathe De and visited her family's tribe regularly as they were not far away and Tuathe De prided themselves on being free folk who traveled when and where they willed. The Paladin and The Ranger found themselves with first two children then later several more. Tuathe De lived for centuries sometimes so they felt little urgency to return to their lives as adventurers. Then their older children began to follow in their footsteps, Nashira and Connor felt called to return to their vocations. Return to the adventurer's life the two did and along with their own children and friends. The group earned a place for themselves battling the most dangerous supernatural enemies of all free folk and good people for the Order of St Michael.

Now Connor felt the world shift and change even as his personality extracted itself from the mixture he knew that the world would be different from the game world Don had played in. The world was inside a sphere with an area equal or perhaps a little greater than that of a billion earths. The sphere was lit from within by a light-giving sphere suspended at the middle of the larger sphere. Don realized it could not be a sun or a sun as he knew it as the inner sphere dimmed itself every day in appearing as the phases of the moon would on earth. He could think of nothing that functioned like that. However, there would be a day and night and the sphere provided more light and heat in a seasonal pattern allowing for spring, summer, fall, and winner.

The region he and the rest were translating into was mostly coastal with a mountain range separating green hills and temperate rain forest from rich grasslands on the other side. The Tuathe De tribes lived on both sides of the mountains and met once a 'year' for a rendezvous usually in the green hills but sometimes in a mountain valley or the grasslands.

Connor felt himself being fit into the giant jigsaw puzzle that was the region Sally was translating. He dropped out of the sky like falling rain and the last he remembered before sleep was his wife's back against his and the big 'Dog' trying to stick his nose under their sleeping skins near his feet. “Dog,” Connor reprimanded the big white beast who blew a put-upon sigh and laid his great head across Nashira and Connor's feet.

“Chewie, knock it off,” Nashira said half asleep and shifted her feet to get more comfortable. “You spoil that dog,” Nashira said as she drifted back to sleep.