In my last post, I mentioned that my friend has written a monster-hunting storygame modelled after For the Queen and Chasing the Ace. This week, I’d like to share a piece of what we’ve been writing together. This is the second game with this group, so naturally we’ve begun to explore a team with looser, more complicated ties to each other.
Prior to this scene the crew lost Joey, a key leader and unifier, during a ferocious faceoff with a catoblepas. Blaming herself for the loss, Kira, our resident werewolf just tore out of Joey’s wake into the night. While half the team chases after her, my character, a stone devil named Abrehex Fel, has other plans. He’s joined by our mercenary diviner Balaam, and Hamor, the diviner’s Great Dane.
♥J You believe the crew would be dead without you. Why?
Balaam watches Abrehex’s clawed hands flash too quickly over the map. A low growl from Hamor, but Balaam squeezes tightly against the harness. “How many idiots does it take to track the wolf? She can’t be har—“
The weekend before restaurants closed in Philadelphia, I had skipped the subway and was walking to work, thinking about how things were going to be pretty weird for the next few... well weeks I thought. It was a rare moment in my life when I genuinely knew that what I needed was more distraction. I reached out to my DnD friends, looking to set up a play-by-post game for a steady drip of roleplaying in the coming chaos. It’d be too dramatic to say that it was a life-saver, but I’m in the mood to be too dramatic. We decided on a For the Queen game, and I was excited to give Z. W. Garth’s mecha melodrama Chasing the Ace a try. In two months of self-prescribed escapism, my friends and I collaborated on a 40,000 word story that still fills me with pride and gratitude to my wingmates. Today I want to share a small excerpt from the story we made together:
♥2 What was the moment you swore to follow the Ace?
Today’s post is something different. I have been writing fiction quite a bit recently, some for my D&D group, some just for myself. I’d like to share a short piece here as a little snapshot of my other creative work. I originally wrote this at the beginning of my current D&D campaign a couple years ago. This isn’t backstory exactly; it’s what happened the day before my character met the rest of the party. I present to you the first page in the tale of Rory, Gnomish Fighter:
Bella wasn't actually listening. She'd heard what she needed; it was enough to know that he'd be paying for his room and all of his meals in advance. That kind of commitment wasn't often found, even in Vestrim's market district. Besides, who had ever heard of a broke gnome?