The Tavern
When I was 8, my older brother introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. We were both at different boarding schools at the time so for most of the year we lived away from home. The holidays, when they did come around, seemed long and friendless.
My parents had enough money to send us away to private school, but not enough to compete with the other rich-kids who went home to posh pads in London where they did 'Town' and socialised and rode ponies and stuff (or so I imagined). We didn't live anywhere near these perceived hives of quality holiday activity so when we went home we didn't know the other kids our age. They wouldn't have wanted to hang around with us anyway because to them WE were the posh ones. Apart from Vincent. He was ok. Bit strange with a big nose and perpetually scruffy hair. He used to hang about with me sometimes, but that was probably because he didn't seem to have other friends either. I saw him recently (saw - not met). 25 years on. Looks the same as he did when he was a kid. But I digress.
So holidays were filled by days (often weeks) on end of 10-sided dice and hand-painted lead figures. It's a wonderful thing a child's imagination and those were happy days. I even remember the name of my favorite (and most successful) character: Grub, a dwarf. In time we progressed onto war games: Avalon Hill's Squad Leader and the like. But we always came back, and even after we'd left school we'd drag my wife (who survived) and his girlfriend (who didn't) along to whole Dungeons and Dragons days, played with a small select group of acquaintances. We ate beans on toast (always).
My brother and I eventually fell out, and Dungeons and Dragons Days faded away... to be replaced (in my case at least) by MUD's! Multi User Dungeons. These were online worlds which required greater reserves of imagination even than books and lead figures. Sat there late at night (because the servers were all in the USA) glued to a mono VDU (orange or white text on black, no graphics at all except pictures made-up of cleverly arranged letters), reading off line after line of text like "You are in a strange room. 14 feet by 18 feet. Door south, closed. Door north, open. You hear nothing. You smell rotting aspidestra. There is a table. And a chair. You have 72 health."... and marvelling at the technology which made such things possible.
And from there, eight years ago (September 1998 to be precise), when I was old enough to know better but too young to have grown out of it, I started playing Ultima Online. This was (and still is) Dungeons and Dragons writ large. A graphical online game that kept me addicted for a couple of years, during which time my character Strumm (for it is he) became an accomplished assassin and musician - a Bard - with his own virtual Tower (Large) bought from the proceeds of slightly dodgy virtual property deals. But at the start he made his first friends at a player-run tavern called The Gathered Spirits. The player who ran it was Juffa Archui, and Strumm's finest Bardic triumph was a poem he wrote in celebration of his new found home.
This was featured on the Ultima Online homepage at one stage, and I was astonished today to find that it's still there. Isn't the internet amazing? For those unfamiliar with the world of Ultima Online, 'reds' were characters who had been classed as murderers for slaughtering innocent player-characters and who could be attacked on sight, 'blues' were innocent player-characters the murderers of whom were penalised (by being turned red), and greys were player-characters who had committed minor misdemeanors (like theft) and could temporarily be attacked by other players without penalty.
Ahem
I said to the man as we passed on the road,
"Pray where are you headed with that heavy load?"
He replied with a wave of his rough calloused hand,"
This ale's on it's way to t'best pub in the Land."
"Surely not on your own Sire?" with a chuckle I said,
(for t'was less than hour since I'd run from a red!).
But he laughed with a gust of breath laden with beer,
And declared "My young Minstrel you're in no danger here"
"For though quite accustomed to steel at my side,
To not have to draw it is a matter of pride.
We are neutral you see an' it don't matter to us
if you're red, blue or grey boy, long as none make a fuss"
"Fair enough" I replied, and thrust out a hand,
And made my first friend in this dangerous land.
"I would see for myself of this place you describe...
for I'm parched and quite starving (only barely alive)"
With a smile shining bright from his ruddy complexion,
He assured me of warmth and a friendly reception.
And he made me so welcome as he led the way
That I became a 'Gathered Spirit' and remain so today.
© Strumm, 2000
A minstrel who nearly wandered past.
I thank you. *bows*
My parents had enough money to send us away to private school, but not enough to compete with the other rich-kids who went home to posh pads in London where they did 'Town' and socialised and rode ponies and stuff (or so I imagined). We didn't live anywhere near these perceived hives of quality holiday activity so when we went home we didn't know the other kids our age. They wouldn't have wanted to hang around with us anyway because to them WE were the posh ones. Apart from Vincent. He was ok. Bit strange with a big nose and perpetually scruffy hair. He used to hang about with me sometimes, but that was probably because he didn't seem to have other friends either. I saw him recently (saw - not met). 25 years on. Looks the same as he did when he was a kid. But I digress.
So holidays were filled by days (often weeks) on end of 10-sided dice and hand-painted lead figures. It's a wonderful thing a child's imagination and those were happy days. I even remember the name of my favorite (and most successful) character: Grub, a dwarf. In time we progressed onto war games: Avalon Hill's Squad Leader and the like. But we always came back, and even after we'd left school we'd drag my wife (who survived) and his girlfriend (who didn't) along to whole Dungeons and Dragons days, played with a small select group of acquaintances. We ate beans on toast (always).
My brother and I eventually fell out, and Dungeons and Dragons Days faded away... to be replaced (in my case at least) by MUD's! Multi User Dungeons. These were online worlds which required greater reserves of imagination even than books and lead figures. Sat there late at night (because the servers were all in the USA) glued to a mono VDU (orange or white text on black, no graphics at all except pictures made-up of cleverly arranged letters), reading off line after line of text like "You are in a strange room. 14 feet by 18 feet. Door south, closed. Door north, open. You hear nothing. You smell rotting aspidestra. There is a table. And a chair. You have 72 health."... and marvelling at the technology which made such things possible.
And from there, eight years ago (September 1998 to be precise), when I was old enough to know better but too young to have grown out of it, I started playing Ultima Online. This was (and still is) Dungeons and Dragons writ large. A graphical online game that kept me addicted for a couple of years, during which time my character Strumm (for it is he) became an accomplished assassin and musician - a Bard - with his own virtual Tower (Large) bought from the proceeds of slightly dodgy virtual property deals. But at the start he made his first friends at a player-run tavern called The Gathered Spirits. The player who ran it was Juffa Archui, and Strumm's finest Bardic triumph was a poem he wrote in celebration of his new found home.
This was featured on the Ultima Online homepage at one stage, and I was astonished today to find that it's still there. Isn't the internet amazing? For those unfamiliar with the world of Ultima Online, 'reds' were characters who had been classed as murderers for slaughtering innocent player-characters and who could be attacked on sight, 'blues' were innocent player-characters the murderers of whom were penalised (by being turned red), and greys were player-characters who had committed minor misdemeanors (like theft) and could temporarily be attacked by other players without penalty.
Ahem
I said to the man as we passed on the road,
"Pray where are you headed with that heavy load?"
He replied with a wave of his rough calloused hand,"
This ale's on it's way to t'best pub in the Land."
"Surely not on your own Sire?" with a chuckle I said,
(for t'was less than hour since I'd run from a red!).
But he laughed with a gust of breath laden with beer,
And declared "My young Minstrel you're in no danger here"
"For though quite accustomed to steel at my side,
To not have to draw it is a matter of pride.
We are neutral you see an' it don't matter to us
if you're red, blue or grey boy, long as none make a fuss"
"Fair enough" I replied, and thrust out a hand,
And made my first friend in this dangerous land.
"I would see for myself of this place you describe...
for I'm parched and quite starving (only barely alive)"
With a smile shining bright from his ruddy complexion,
He assured me of warmth and a friendly reception.
And he made me so welcome as he led the way
That I became a 'Gathered Spirit' and remain so today.
© Strumm, 2000
A minstrel who nearly wandered past.
I thank you. *bows*
posted by MrFlag at 12:49 am
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