Source Books

Sooo many source books to read.

I suppose that's the problem with picking up a new system like GURPS. You've got all the material to go through.

Dungeons and Dragons (3rd edition and D&D 3.5) was made easier by having the starter set that was in shops before the Dungeon Masters Guide and the Monster Manual were released. Soon after buying and playing the starter set, I was eager to get my hands on the Player's Handbook and start creating some proper characters, scenarios, etc. I also skipped reading the sections on magic, spells, and magic items until I had gotten to grips with skill checks, challenge ratings, combat, feats, and gaining multi-classing.

WFRP and Dark Heresy turned out to be very easy to learn as well. Perhaps because I already knew how orcs, goblins, skaven, lizardmen, vampire counts, the Empire, and Bretonnia worked, I could focus on learning the rules for combat, skills, roleplaying, and advancement. A lot of the rules for WFRP are very similar to the rules I had learned for Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000. Dark Heresy is pretty much Warhammer IN SPACE, which I suppose rings right, but the system doesn't actually translate properly. Warhammer's magic is not the same as 40k's psychic powers, but Dark Heresy does not differentiate between them. With a setting so grim and dark, Dark Heresy makes it extraordinarily difficult to die unless you're fighting orks or daemons.

Maybe I was just too nice to my players. I've never had the GM vs. PCs mentality for my games.

Call of Cthulhu bears a slight resemblance to WFRP and Dark Heresy in that the system is based around percentile dice rolls. Also; humanity's hopeless doom and powers beyond mortal comprehension.

From my perspective, GURPS seems to take aspects from the games I've already played. That makes it at once easy and difficult to learn. It's easy because I've seen a lot of these concepts before. It's difficult because I'm having to unlearn and relearn what I already know.

I'm getting into the swing of it now though. But I've still got a lot of reading to do before I can think of running a campaign or half-decent adventure. I've read through the GURPS Basic Set: Characters book (which you could liken to D&D's Player's Handbook), and I'm half-way through the Campaigns book (similar to D&D's Dungeon Master's Guide).

However. I do love my sword-and-sorcery, so I've got the Fantasy, Magic, and Thaumatology books to get through as well. Then I have to implement them.

I'm sure I've said this before, but GURPS is by design a very versatile system. You can run any sort of game you want with it. Whatever you want the players to be, and whatever you want their adversaries to be, it seems that you can do it with GURPS. Gunslingers in the old west; pirates on the Spanish Main; private eye detectives in a dystopia hi-tech city; six-limbed aliens with faster-than-light travel that fight with muskets and daggers; intelligent birds of prey with psychic powers; robotic masterminds with legions of servitor thralls... the limit lies with your imagination.

If those source books weren't enough, my mum bought me the Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z for my birthday. I have not finished the final book of Eisenhorn either, but Dan Abnett doesn't portray the 41st Millennium in the way I've ever viewed it. I flew into a nerd rage when I read that Eisenhorn's power sword was just a thinly-veiled lightsaber.

Blog Rockstar

Perhaps this is something I should have addressed at the beginning, but I don't think I really put much thought to it. Why did I start this blog?

I didn't start writing it thinking that I'd get dozens of people following it, sitting on the edge of their seats and wondering what will happen next? I never conceived a running theme or unique style. But then I never wanted to be a Blogger Rockstar.

There are just moments in which I want to write. If I write at home, I usually give up half way through and start doing something else. I often want to draw as well; but drawing takes much longer to render what's in my head, so I often find it much quicker to write. I still prefer drawing because there is a lot a picture (a thousand words and all that) can convey. To set a mood for a drawing you can manipulate tone, weight, and depth. Setting a mood for a piece of writing means building up the atmosphere with text as a prelude to the main part.

Typing something out is also more flexible for me. I can keep up a good writing speed, almost catching the ideas that flit in and out of my head. I can go back and change what I've written, address mistakes, and make minor changes effortlessly. The same cannot, unfortunately, be said for drawing.

Writing is also more convenient for me because I can do it almost anywhere. At work, mostly, when I have run out of problems to solve. If I was doodling away, I might be accused of time wasting; but it's a different story if I'm writing. My current occupation is also stiflingly boring and requires no free-thinking what-so-ever. I suppose writing is the best way to exercise some creativity in such a monotonous job.

So I just take up my pen, (i.e. keyboard) and write. Whether I write about what's happened to me or what I'm thinking about (i.e. this blog); write backgrounds, plots, and details for my RPG games (which I generally store in my Google Notebook); or fictional stories (that generally get sent as correspondence), I can just write.

One or three people have said I should write a book. I don't think I could stick to one project like that for long enough. There are more than enough authors out there. The biggest problem is always coming back to a story I've already started writing. I'll just sit there, unable to continue what I started; unable to pick up the momentum I previously had.

And finally...

Mum came out of hospital just fine. She had several gall bladder stones removed. The largest two look like D12s.

Stoppie

I almost didn't make it into work today.

There I am, tootling along through St. Leonards, cursing a driver who was trying to muscle his way out of a junction by inching out in front of me (it really irritates me when people do that - if his foot had to slipped off the clutch, his car would have lurched forward and struck me as I passed - learn some patience!).

Suddenly this guy, who was previously parked on double-yellow lines, just jumps out in front of me without indicators or even looking. He's right across both lanes and making a ninety-degree turn. The idiot didn't even look to see if there was any traffic coming.

I grabbed the front brake lever as quickly as possible, slamming my foot down on the rear brake pedal, too surprised to utter profanity under my breath. I stopped about two feet from the driver-side door. Still the moron hasn't noticed the hulking great Versys growling at him.

He did look over his shoulder when he had driven half way into the next street. He did a comical double-take, a gormless look of incomprehension plastered across his face.

The thing that really scared me though, wasn't the fact that I had to pull an emergency stop. That was almost something you could hand-wave. No. I didn't realise it until I felt my rear suspension bounce heavily after braking, but my back wheel wasn't on the fucking ground. I'd had to brake so hard that I'd inadvertently pulled a stoppie right in the middle of the road.

I was so shocked that it was a few seconds before I could centre myself and honk my horn in futility, glaring at the receding tail-lights of the thoughtless cager.

Mother. Fucker. I would have taken a fist-full of throttle and followed him (intending only to impart some very stern words), but I've done that before after a near-miss; if the motorist who almost killed you is intent on avoiding the consequences of their actions (as so many today are wont to do) then you ending up almost killing yourself by following them through busy traffic and dangerous junctions.

So the witless wanker's punishment will just have to remain a particularly brutal case of u-lock justice in my imagination.

Just please, please, please remember to LOOK before you turn or change lane or whatever. This guy didn't look twice for bikes; he didn't even look once. At least looking once is a start.

Twenty-Three

The mercury probably hit a million degrees this morning. That's right. A million. Celsius or Fahrenheit, take your pick. After a certain point it hardly matters.

Peeling my bike gear from my sweltering form was particularly unpleasant this morning. As was peeling my sweltering form from my bedsheets. I'm sure the temperature will increase as summer revels in its own presence. I suppose a mercy of having the summer holidays largely to myself (you know, apart from the ridiculous amount of time off) is that I don't have to ride to Robertsbridge every day when the weather is at its warmest.

Yes, yes, I know that you don't want to ride in bad weather, but having to wear all the protective gear means that you sweat like a pig if you're not moving around at fifty miles-per-hour or faster. Legally you're only required to wear a safety helmet here in Britain. It stops your head shattering like a melon if you are parted from your mechanical steed at speed.

Personally I would wear a helmet even if it wasn't required. The amount of things that go clonk or splat against my visor on a regular ride, suggests that a rider's face might become scarred, or at least pitted, if he made a habit of riding without facial protection.

As for the rest of the protection, I'd wear gloves regardless. Seeing kids (and adults who should know better) riding their mopeds, scooters, or bikes without gloves makes me cringe. The first thing you are going to do if you come a cropper is put your hands out to break your fall. Do you remember what it was like as a kid, falling down and grazing your knees and palms on the pavement? That was probably pretty damned smooth stone compared to a well-travelled road's surface. You were also much closer to the ground when you fell back then. You were also going a hell of a lot slower back then. And it hurt didn't it? That is why I wear gloves.

I also make a point of wearing a jacket. Even on a day like today, you can quickly find that riding around in a t-shirt gives you the shivers. If you ride faster than town speed for any length of time, you're going to get cold. Jackets also provide pocket space if it's of practical design. I also appreciate the back, chest, shoulder, and elbow protection that a good jacket provides. Joints like elbows and knees are usually the bits of you that take a lot of damage if you go down. It's where you bend, and those are the angles that tend to take more punishment in a tumble. Which brings me to the next item of protective clothing.

Trousers. Denim might do if you're travelling at no faster than thirty', but beyond that (and when travelling any considerable distance), I feel very vulnerable when I'm not wearing proper biking trousers with padding and knee protection. It's probably because I've ridden for so long wearing all the gear. But still. The trousers will save your knees. I find it best to think of roads as giant cheese graters, and human flesh as hunks of cheese. Sam's knee was injured in his first accident; sometimes he finds it is a little stiff. Fortunately he was wearing a full protective outfit. The paramedic who was on the scene praised the biking trousers he wore, and swore blind that if Sam had been wearing jeans that he might have crippled his knee.

And finally the boots. It only takes a slow-speed impact with the curb for your ankle to go snap. Your toes are also fairly vulnerable in an accident. In the two accidents I've had in which I've been unseated, my boots have taken a great deal of punishment and saved me from a twisted (or broken) ankle. On one occasion, the ablative titanium coated ankle plate on one of my boots actually snapped off as it took the brunt of an impact I had with the ground.

Still. After saying all that (and I realise that I've rambled something awful), I wouldn't say no to half an hour of cruising along empty desert roads on a massive low-rider. Sunglasses, handkerchief, fingerless leather gloves, open leather jacket with the sleeves cut off (or a hide-coloured jacket with tassels on it - you know the kind I mean; the stereotypical Native American Indian sort), jeans, thick boots... yeah. Maybe a big ol' duster too. Born To Be Wild playing somewhere in my subconscious. I wouldn't ride a chopper all the time, but I'd love to do it just once.

Also, as a side note, I'm twenty-three today. Mum's also fulfilling her hospital appointment. It has something to do with her thyroid problems but she doesn't seem to want to elaborate.

Propagating Problem

I did not get to bed before midnight any night last week. It looks like this week will not break the trend. With one thing or another, I've just been kept up until the wee hours of the morning before being allowed to catch a few hours sleep.

I've been doing a lot of computer-fixing jobs for other members of staff. It's a good way to get to know the people I work with; and since they tend to feed me and pay me for fiddling around with their PC for a few hours, I can hardly say no.

Only, most people here are pretty friendly and I end up doing a lot more talking than working and by the time I've finished the job and look up at the clock it's nine- or ten-o'-clock already. Then, by Sod's law, it'll either take me a good portion of the night to get home, or I'll get sidetracked and have to go shopping or something on the way home, or once I get home there'll be something of Earth-shattering importance that I have to attend to.

Like yesterday. I went to visit a co-worker at their house in Hawkhurst to sort out their email (and a few other computer-related problems). I got dinner and supper there (I'd already had a roast for lunch thanks to the free school dinners I've been getting this week), and even ice cream and blueberries for dessert. I think it was eight- or nine-o'-clock when I left. Since my mum lives in Hawkhurst, I thought I'd pay her a visit before dashing off home. Well, she wasn't home but Marcos and Sam kept me talking until her return; by then it was gone eleven-o'-clock I think, so I didn't get home until after midnight.

So I'm pretty damned sleepy today. And rather than a problem you can walk off or fight through; the longer you're tired, the more tired you become. So it's going to get more and more difficult to keep my eyes open and focus on the task at hand as the day goes on. Especially after a big school dinner. Hopefully I'll be conscious enough to ride my bike home safely.

Macegrinder

Just plopping this here before I forget (click the thumbnail to see the FULL SIZE image):

Hashtil Macegrinder, powerful warrior and leader of a gang of orcs that ambushed the Player Characters in my Dungeons and Dragons campaign (The Urn of Blood).

If I remember correctly, he startled the players by breaking through several protection spells to attack a mage. He perished on the tip of Sten's rapier with the help of Samulus.

Wine of the Week

It's kind of a tradition in the school that when a member of staff has gone above and beyond the call of duty and done something particularly helpful, they are nominated for "Wine of the Week." At the end of the week, the person with the most/best nominations gets a free bottle of wine courtesy of the Senior Leadership Team as a "thank you" and "well done" for their efforts.

I've been nominated for Wine of the Week before, but this was the first time that anyone had been nominated three times in one week. There was a small element of pride in that for me.

Since they know I don't drink, but I do buy dinner at the canteen almost every day, the Powers That Be saw fit to compensate me by replacing the complementary bottle of wine with a week's free school dinners (starting Monday).

I know who two of the members of staff who nominated me are, but the third may remain a mystery. I'm also wondering what the Senior Leadership Team are going to do with that bottle of wine...

The Price We Pay

Summer has certainly struck with overpowering rays of equal parts sunshine and warmth. No, no, I'm not going to go on about how hot it is in my office and how I almost fell asleep yesterday afternoon. I'm going to go on about something completely different.

Motorcycling. Aye, grand it is in this weather. Without the slipperiness of ice, the soaking of rain, and the instability of blustery winds, motorcycling is at its best.

You don't have to wear upteen layers of clothing under your gear, and your hands don't go numb because there's no chilling wind to bite through your gloves and freeze your fingers. Sure, when you take your gear off you might be sweating like an Eskimo in the Sahara, but if you keep your speed above forty-five miles-per-hour then your own slipstream keeps you cool.

The roads are also much more reliable, and your tyres warm up nice and quick. So you can put a little more faith in your own cornering abilities and the machine that's taking you around those corners.

There is a price that you pay though. A price for this warm weather.

You see, there's a certain automatic, anatomical movement that a man's body makes when it gets warm. Things... "drop" to stay cool. That's fine normally. But when you put those "dropped" parts of your anatomy between you, your bike's leather seat, and its fuel tank, you can often end up with a crushing sensation. Or at least an uncomfortable crowded feeling.

Maybe wearing motorcycle leathers instead of textiles would be the answer to this. Most bikers who ride sports bikes (i.e. most bikers full stop) wear leathers (a one-piece suit or a two-piece set), and their riding position suggests that they could quickly become even more uncomfortable than someone like myself who has an easy-going and upright posture (thanks to the Versys' high handlebars and ultra-comfy seat).

Something else I've noticed this week (particularly yesterday). In the morning I could smell salt coming in off the sea. Not surprising since I live on the seafront. But in the afternoon, as I got nearer my flat, the smell was almost overpowering.

That wouldn't be so bad if I didn't happen to hate the smell of briny salt-water. With a passion. It's sickly and nauseating. If you have ever been swimming in the sea and managed to get salt-water up your nose... well it's not a pleasant experience and all you can smell for the next hour or so is brine. Well it was like that yesterday afternoon (and this morning!). Yuck!

Make Peace

On the way to work there is a lady who walks her two dogs every morning. If I'm early then we cross paths at a certain point and at least one of the dogs goes barking mad (see what I did there?), yapping and jumping up and down as I approach. The lady must restrain her dogs each time I ride past so that they don't jump into the road (they have leads on, but still they'd choke themselves if she'd let them).

So this morning I slowed down and stopped, turn the engine off and asked if I should take a different route. After all, it's far easier for me to ride down the High Street and up the road that runs past the train station; and I wouldn't dream of urging someone to avoid the greener lanes on their morning constitutional, in such fine weather, just because I want to ride my bike down those same green lanes.

We had a short chin wag and we let the dogs sniff the bike until it seemed less distressed by it. The lady, whose name I did not ask, said that it was one of the two dogs in particular that just went a bit crazy when it saw or heard any motorcycle.

The lady said, why change my regular route on my morning commute, just for a barmy little hound? She said that potentially, "she'll get used to it eventually," and that I shouldn't worry about the dog's demeanour.

So tomorrow morning, should we cross paths again, I'll be able to nod and smile and know that a little conversation stopped me worrying that a lady resented my motorbike stirring and startling her dogs. Communication.

Ambience

Last night and this morning were not good times for sleeping, it seems. I was very, very tired on Saturday and fell asleep sometime in the afternoon. This, of course, meant that I couldn't get to sleep most of Saturday night until four in the morning. Or was that Friday?

Regardless, I had my sleeping pattern fixed by Sunday, but come ten-o'-clock there was some infernal racket going on outside. People talking, cars racing up and down the street. Mostly people staggering home from a night's drinking I suspect, at least that's what it sounded like. Sometimes there are couples or rivals who argue right across from my window.

After I got to sleep I was awoken at two in the morning by some very loud drunks who were making their way very slowly up the hill. Sometimes they would wander around in circles and delay their progress away from my open window. I had to close it eventually, which made the room unbearably warm. If it's like this now, what will it be like in July?

I suppose I should be grateful of our pleasant weather. I much prefer riding to work, the shops, Hawkhurst, etc. when it's a bright and sunny day rather than when storm clouds gather around and pelt the countryside and towns alike with wind and rain. The problem comes from this bloody office being so stuffy and so stuffed with computers (and technicians, I suppose). There's no ventilation and... well to be perfectly honest I tire of the same complaint over and over again. It's too damned warm and I can't bloody-well breath!

After the revellers had left the road opposite my window and I fell back to sleep, all was well. Until half an hour before my alarm was due to go off when a street cleaner, lawnmower, or hedge trimmer stirred me from slumber.

I was just too tired to be irritated any more.

In other news, I'm going through the 4th edition GURPS (bet you thought I was going to say Dungeons and Dragons for a second there, eh?) basic set books. One focuses on character creation and the other on campaigns. In fact, they're named appropriately (GURPS Characters and GURPS Campaigns respectively).

If you are unfamiliar with GURPS, it's an acronym for Generic Universal Role Playing System. It allows you to create characters, NPCs, adventures, campaigns, and settings for any sort of role-playing game you can imagine. You can create a gun-slinging cowboy for a wild-western game, or a psychic four-headed serpentine alien for a space-borne science-fiction game, or a spell-casting wraith (the ghost of a once-dead wizard?) for a fantasy game, or a low-down criminal android for a futuristic horror-survival game; all using the same system.

Not only that, but those characters would all be compatible with one another in the same setting if they were to meet (there is a setting, Infinite Worlds, provided which allows Rifts-esque time-and-space hopping adventures).

It seems to do well as a jack-of-all-trades as the rules are really quite modular and can be expanded, or limited, to fit the sort of game you want to play. So far I haven't found the system's limitation. But I've only just finished reading a few of the character creation chapters and there is a lot to take in. I would guess that one limitation might be that, pandering to such a large crowd and such a wide range of settings, adventures, and characters, a fairly large amount of preparation might be required from the GM to make sure that things fit.

For example, the basic magic system provided for GURPS might not be the one you want to use. Instead of burning mana to cast spells, you might want a Dungeons & Dragons style prepare-and-forget spell system. I, for example, want a system based on casting individual runes in a certain order to provoke specific effects. There are source books such as GURPS Magic and GURPS Thaumatology that can help with these, and I should think I'll be getting a fair few of them.

After I've gotten my head around the rules, run a handful of short adventures with my players, and implemented the rules, I'll try going for a fantasy campaign. If it's successful then the possibilities are endless. The wild west (Deadlands!), space travel, science fiction, super heroes, aliens, ghosts, fiends, time travel. The list goes on.

I don't think GURPS will be the only system I'll use though. Like I said, there may be limitations within its massive scope. There are systems out there that specialise, and with specialisation comes focus.