Coffee, Code, and Chronicles

The fire had begun to earn its keep by the time Josef reappeared with bread and bowls of something dark and thick. Jost had claimed the hearth without asking permission. His boots were off, his cloak steamed, and he had added three logs to the coals before anyone could object. Beside him, Janderke shifted his weight, his eyes tracking the innkeeper as if chewing on a question. “Herr Haarig," Janderke finally said, when Josef set the bowls down. “The men said there's a prisoner here. Some outlaw?" Josef's whole posture changed at the question. He straightened, wiping his hands on his apron with the particular pride of a man who'd been waiting all evening to be asked. “That's right. Heinz Gerber himself, locked up out back near the privy. A bounty hunter brought him in. Lars, he calls himself. Been raiding this stretch of the Stir the better part of four months, that one." He glanced between them. “Roadwardens come in two days to see him hanged proper....

The River Stir in Spring. The color of manure, swollen from rain and runoff, an odor of rotten vegetation, and thick with heavy debris floating on it or just beneath the brown-green water. Jost convinced his young friend, Janderke, to go fishing. Janderke owned a small row boat and often took it out on the River Stir for a small fee. Many locals in Tauer on the river would hand over a few pennies for time fishing. Janderke stood a half head taller than his elder Jost. Besides fishing, the both of them had something in common: formerly rich, and dead, relatives. But Jost had made his living fishing for more years than he cared to count and a small inheritance just made what accounted for his small vices more accessible. The day was cloudy and the dark clouds to the east suggested a lot of rain upstream. Thunder could be distantly heard. Janderke rowed the boat out to “ trunks," a collection of just above the surface rotting tree trunks downstream of the docks of Tauer. The “trunks...

I am currently editing the prologue for a new adventure serial here on the blog. This piece serves as a prelude to my upcoming guest post for the AtoZ Challenge in September. While that guest post is already drafted, I realized it would benefit from a practical demonstration of a creative process driven by the friction of randomness using Tabletop RPG (TTRPG) mechanics. While this method is not new, I hope to introduce it to writers looking to leverage externalized prompts to resolve story outcomes. Set in the grim “Old World" of Warhammer, the prologue introduces Jost Oberholtzer, a fatherly fisherman, and Janderke “Jan" Steuben, a young boatman. Jan owns a small rowboat on the River Stir, frequently taking Jost to well-known watering holes near Tauer, their small village on the border of Talabecland and Stirland. When severe weather forces them on a week-long journey nearly 100 miles from home, Jost must guide and mentor Jan as the young man is thrust into the cutthroat, da...

I've started seeing an emergent trend in Role Playing Games (RPGs) of late.  The issue with using the word “emergent" is that the algorithms at play in many platforms are geared to feeding you more of what you watch. Platforms become echo chambers.  Solo gaming may in fact not be emergent at all. But I consume a lot of role playing media on YouTube and there are a few “soloists" that I've caught and thus YouTube desires to feed the beast. Of the two “soloists" that have my attention, the first has more than 20,000 subscribers, the other just 920. The former is published, the latter is prolific and seems to be highly detail oriented with a lot of personal frameworks to drive the story telling in a purely randomly generated manner. Soloing I'm told is also called “journaling." I like this framing and as one that watches a limited amount of the available content can see how “journaling" is apropos . A gamer can quickly find themselves seeking to capita...