D&D Luvina Yaira Olinda Martel

The Sea Dogs Story.

They used to say I was born at sea. Some said it was during calm, some a storm. Sailors are like that, pirates even more. My father, Captain Phillip Vincent Martel would roll his eyes and bark orders. I knew every inch of that beautiful ship. The Sea's Revenge.
Sometimes I fear I will never avenge them. My brothers, my family. My father. Hung by kings-men. So noble. With their laws that never apply to them.
About a year ago I heard his name. King _______. I had worked with smugglers and thieves of the highest quality before that.I drifted from place to place. Port to port. I had few to vouch for me, after all dead men tell no tales but I had my name and most often it was enough for small jobs.
Once that puked-stained sop's name caught my attention I knew I couldn't rest until I found him and ripped out his guts.
I started investigating as best as I could between jobs.
I got my first break about six months ago. His kingdom and the such like. I was working security for a large brothel in the large port town of _______.
You ever want information, speak to a whore. They know more secrets than almost anyone. The House of Flowers was a good gig and I was loathed to leave but revenge is something they understood and know well.
I know I am bias but is a shit stain of a kingdom. Poor weather. High taxes on all goods like pipe-weed and alcohol. Even flour was twice the price of the nearest kingdom. The king was having a series of lavish balls to impress visiting nobility. I spit on the word.
His people could barely eat. I fell in with a small band of smugglers. The Oystermen. My blade and such I soon found rabble rousing easy. After all, a hungry man is an angry man.
Of course this makes you enemies as well as friends.
I knew something was off when I was asked to protect a land-based run. Still I did the job. Coin is coin.
The run was quiet. Not that horse and carts are my thing. Never seem to get the stink off. All day the horses refused to settle. Making that high unpleasant horse they make sometimes. By night fall we had made a small camp and I was by the fire sleeping before my watch.
The sound of a blade woke me. We were over run. I kicked one of them into the fire and lashed out with my blade. I felt a sharp pain and woke in a cave in chains.

D&D Dark Places

D&D Dark Places

Time passes differently in the underdark. The drug from the capture made me foggy. The cell was a  small cave with a large metal gate. Opposite it was some strange drow tower with guards and a huge mounted crossbow trained on it at all times.
There were so many strange creatures I had never seen before, and some I recognised such as the loud elf and a quiet one and a courageous and very angry halfling. There was a female dwarf as well as a princesses who was a strange hairy beast who did not stop crying.
They had taken my clothes and other belonging, save my Goddess symbol as they could not bear to touch it.
As the gates opened and another body was tossed into our cell the halfling, Jock began to abuse the drow the other side of the gate. He did some curious magick on Jock's underwear causing it to glow and twinkle, enraging him even more.
The man thrown in seemed to wake me to myself and I knew in my bones I would escape. The flamboyant elf proclaimed he would escape and I believed he could.
Two large hairy beasts patrolled outside our cell and I saw a way to distract the guards. I began to pray to reach towards that light within and draw forth that magick. I reached out to one of the beasts and gave it a single command.
"Attack" as I pointed to the drow stationed at the crossbow. The other elf, a wizard followed my lead and commanded the second creature to do the same. Defopp, began to pick the lock and suddenly we were free. The dwarf was off and running, then Jock, then the Bowman and myself, then wizard and the princess. We managed to grab some simple weapons and some of the sleep drug they tip their weapons in.
I don't think I yet fully understand what happened next. Jock burst into a room of sleeping and resting guards. Vicious fighting broke out. I saw the still sleeping guard and I struck him with my make shift staff while apologising. I sent a healing word to Jock who was in danger of losing an eye. I went further into the room and drew the distraught princess with me. I regained my things from a chest at the back of the room and I put up a shield of faith to protect myself and this sad creature. There I stayed for a while with the noise of more guards and fighting.
I then saw the female dwarf standing badly wounded and I knew that I had to help. I dropped the shield and made my way to the dwarf who refused my healing and I saw such a sight. Jock who had been riding a giant spider fell and many drow were attempting to enter the room.
I raised my staff above my head and touch my holy symbol. I radiated pure celestial light. It seemed to burn them. One of the drow turned to ash. All the other's were blinded and in pain.
The great beasts under my command and that of the wizard were still attacking drow.
The last drow fled. Leaving us again in silence.
I know not what will happen next.

D&D Quora

I am joining not one but two new D&D fifth edition games in the next week. I will try and chronicle both characters who are unusually both human. Quora is my human heal and cleric made predominantly with dice rolls! This is her brief back story.

Quora

My name is Quora, or at least that is the only name I ever remember having. I do not recall the massacre that killed my parents only the well I hid in. The small circle of sky and the cold hard walls around me. I remember the light and being drawn like water from the well. I remember running and pulling on the hand of my mother who did not move. Such strong hands.

It was there Llion found me. His bright priestly robes fluttering in the wind. His pale elven face seemed alien and celestial to my childish eyes. He took me to his temple, to our temple and so I became Quora.

The dust of desert and war was washed from my obsidian skin.

Our Goddess Lliira dances in the heart of all children and even though I had lost much I learned the dance. I learned to find my healing joy. Llion taught me how to smile in a way that makes other's smile too. How to find that dancing light inside and allow it to radiate. Of course I learned to read and write too, but it was in our swaying morning prayer, in our voices, I found my calling.

I grew and grew taller than even Llion. Yet Llion told me it was so everyone could see my smile.

The day I became a full acolyte will stay with me forever. I lead the dance and as I touch her sacred drum there was a shudder of light throughout the room and a soft tinkling laughter.

I was so up lifted by my own joy I did not see those who believe politics, not faith, is true power, exchange scornful glances.

As is our custom I began to go out into the world to give aid and healing. To dance at births and weddings. To sing the joy of a life lived at funerals. My journey’s took me further and further from home. I know my calling is to bring joy and light to the world. To show that bitterness is no shield. That kindness is strength. That hope can survive all things if we look for our joy.  

Strength 15
Dexterity 16
Constitution 15
Intelligence 12
Wisdom 19
Charisma 12

Reading: The Power of Stories

Reading: 

The Power of Stories

While reading is much more cool these days than when I was young, we do have to remember reading is something that only the few had access to for most of human history.

I don't begrudge readings coolness. I appreciate how older prints and different editions are now easier for me to find. (Though I have this skill of being able to find books that are rare and expensive for piss all in flea markets or charity shops.)

My mother was a big read but didn't read to me. My father (before I was five) would not only read but do all the voices and perform the stories. After the divorce he would record stories onto tape, even adding a noise to tell me when we could turn the page.

Little wonder reading became so important to me. Reading was so pleasurable, much like dancing, I didn't feel it was an effort at all. I now know how much harder I have to work as a dyslexic person to get the words into my brain. I don't belittle or get snobbish about audio books either.

Interestingly reading to children (I mean who wouldn't like bedtime stories?) is not just wonderfully bonding, great for getting kids calm and happy, it actually changes their brains!

This has throws up so many ideas in my brain.

You see psychologically, we are create narratives constantly and when they don't mesh with the outside would it can cause break-downs and all kinds of mental health problem. This cognitive dissonance comes down to how we tell ourself our story.

This power of stories is both a curse and a boon.

There is a large bang. You go to the window and it is dark. Now quiet, everything appears normal.

"Probably just a car backfiring". 

Our past and our frames of reference inform us, and blind us to the world around us.

There is a large bang. You go to the window and it is dark. Now quiet, everything appears normal.

"Come away from the window, someone was shot."

Most people are not aware of this narrative thinking. This is why reading, and reading widely is important.

It allows you to freedom from the idea there is one narrative thread. That there is one set way to view the world. In evolutionary terns it makes us more adaptable to change. More resilient to the psychological stresses. Growing up I read all kinds of books sometimes several at a time. Most of the protagonists were male but instead of this isolating me it just enabled me to walk into worlds, stories where I was treated with all the male privilege. I was never the damsel in the story, I was the hero. Doing the daring do. To me it was quite profound in setting how I thought of myself.

This is why "Chic Lit" is just the dumbest idea from publishers and a trend I abhor.

The formula seem to be this

female writer+ female protagonist+human connection = Chic Lit 

So many amazing books, and wonderful stories are lumped into a grouping that stops men from hearing these voices. Voices that can be beautiful and powerful and really deserve to be read.

Reading should not be gendered.

Reading what it is like to grow up female should be compulsory.

Everyone should read The Color Purple.

Everyone should read Tolkien, even if it is the Hobbit to your children.

Stories are hugely powerful. Inhabiting worlds can show you what racism, sexism and being a villain or hero is like. This dreaming while awake is good for the mind and in my opinion, good for the soul.

This why "just watch the movie" is so wrong. It is much more personal. So much more visceral when you are not passively absorbing something but creating it within your mind. 

This changes how you emotionally connect with the content and you get to choose the voices, the soundtrack. You get to know how things smell, and taste and feel. What people are thinking as well as doing.

 So much of our lives is based on stories, narratives. When we are able to hear other people's voices, spend some time in their shoes we are empowered. In reading with others, in sharing stories with our children and friends we share this tool. This gift. We are always more able to control our narrative thinking (if you don't believe me watch a group of roleplayers the week after their first mimic).

It allows us to be our own hero's. Know that we can survive anything, from the end of the world to war, to lost love.     

Keyleth's Song

Keyleth's Song

Hey boo, it's me not you.
I want to run, burn like the sun
For you.
What happens if I open my heart
And it all falls apart,
The way things do?
What if I make a mess again?
I couldn't bury my shame.
I can soar like an eagle
But you make me feel weak
My tiger heart tears me apart
When you touch me, I can't speak.

Let me fly free
Let me be my untamed heart
Let me roar
Let me be my untamed heart

Everyone goes away in the end
If I lost you as a friend I would die
A little inside.

Hey you, stealing is what you do.
I want it too, burn like the sun
For true.
What happens if we are one heart
And we fall apart
The way things do?
Second guesses and awkward messes
I couldn't bury my shame.
I can soar like an eagle
But you make me feel weak
My tiger heart tears me apart
When you look at me that way,
I can't speak.

Let me fly free
Let me be my untamed heart
Let me roar
Let me me my untamed heart.

When I run to you I'll be a river
When it's our season I will fall
When it's right, some starry night
I will take your breathe away


Let me fly free
Let me be my untamed heart
Let me roar
Let me me my untamed heart.

Why I love Critical Role

Why I love Critical Role

I trained in theatre from about the age of four. My Dad was an actor and all I ever wanted to do was be an actor. I was at university when I discover role play games. First being White Wolf's Vampire the Masquerade, then others. Slowly I was drawn into LARP as well.
As I found this space for almost limitless character driven performance, the safety and  acceptance of my body type and the joy of not being myself my desire for "theatre proper" waned.
In the university I was, as it were, "piece of meat in training". It was hard, brutal and soul crushing.
I walked away from that life path at 21 knowing it was making me both sick and miserable.
Of course role play is not without it's sticking points, especially as a woman. It was a boys club and often more about maths than a character.
This is why I LOVE Critical Role. I love it because while there are stats and dice rolls what the characters do is driven by beautiful back stories. Real vulnerabilities. Real relationships and desires. They play the role.
I will often watch the weeks episode a few times and while I like other games (Titan's Grave is masterful and wonderfully acted) I like to listen to it like a radio play. The sound effects are there. The vocal characterisation is there. The Mercher does the most gloriously horrific monster and squishy deaths.
I love the actors. All for all sorts of reasons. Travis is a visceral player, and quite tactically savey ( not that Grog is  played that way). Laura is a delight, her energy and joyful quality bringing a sweetness to her cool crisp wonderfully complicated character. Liam has a heartstopping and dizzying depth of characterization that he seems to be able to switch on and off like a light switch.. Ashley (when is there) brings out the character's softer sides with deftness that looks effortless. Sam plays a lot for laughs but always stays on that edge, investing heavily into the relationships of other characters, turn what could be a throw away character into something else. Marisha is a amazing. She wraps her character around her and wears her so fully it is only watching her be herself in other things (like Critmas and other Twitch stream) you appreciate how much work goes into that. Taliesin brings a sense of danger and vulnerability to a character that would not be easily accessible were it not for his ability to paint his rage in clipped tones and heartache with silence of "I'm fine".
The acting is like that of a great rep theatre group. They all have their strengths (as players and characters) and weaknesses but they support each other, and push each other into deeper connections, exploring the world and feeling within it. The in jokes and pranks, undeclared loves and loathing add to the uplifting and unique quality.
Part of this is down to time. Few actors get the chance to play a character and develop it for years at a time. The other is Mercher. He challenges them, creates not just a cohesive world but one with moral ambiguity and space for mistakes and rumination as well as breath taking scenery and terrifying monsters.
It is the best cartoon in the work (thanks Kit) made with unlimited budget of my brain.

I have watched other streams, and run a game myself but this game is special.
It takes everything I love about tabletop and neatly clips away a lot of things I don't and it is wonderful.
(P.S. I miss you Orion and Vox Mochina really need a spell caster!)
Nerdgirl out!