Friday, October 15, 2010

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum — Blue Ink Alchemy

Logo courtesy Netflix.  No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

(We're experiencing difficulties with recording equipment. We apologize for the inconvenience.)
I am loathe to admit this, but I've made it a point in my writing and especially this series not to be disingenuous in my assertions. That's a good way to get punched in the face. So here it is: I don't like spook houses. Those standalone buildings in carnivals, fairs and amusement parts where part-timers are paid to jump out of closets at you? Yeah. Not really my scene. I don't consider it horrific when I get startled. It's just annoying. Around this time last year when Pandorum was out I didn't really pay much attention to it, half-expecting it to be a jump-out scarefest dressed up as a high-concept sci-fi horror flick. This is one of those times when I'm pretty happy to admit I was wrong.
Courtesy Constantin Films
The Elysium is a spacecraft carrying thousands of colonists and biological samples for the settlement of the distant Earth-like planet of Tanis. Earth has just about run out of room and resources. While humanity suffocates on its own wastefulness and hubris, the Elysium's passengers are kept in deep cryogenic sleep for their 123-year journey with the promise that they'll save anybody left behind. When Corporal Bowers wakes up for his shift, however, there are immediate problems. He's been out long enough to lose parts of his memory. His ship is dying, its reactor core malfunctioning and its navigational systems unable to tell him where they are. His superior officer, Lieutenant Payton, has a similar memory problem when he wakes up. As Bower heads for the reactor to fix the ship and Peyton acts as mission control at the one working console, two things become apparent very quickly: The officers are not alone aboard the Elysium, and one or both of them are suffering from a mental condition similar to nitrogen narcosis related to extended cryogenic sleep - a condition they call Pandorum. Do you have a feeling you know where this is going? If not, maybe you should consider watching more movies. Specifically, you need to check out Alien, The Descent and Event Horizon, because those are movies that at best inspired Pandorum and at worst were victims of a blatant idea mugging at its hands. Players of System Shock 2 or Dead Space will feel right at home as well. On the surface, there isn't much about the concept, narrative through-line or inevitable "twist" moments that haven't been seen, experienced or lampshaded before. But that's a general overview and maybe a little unfair. The devil, as they say, is in the details.
Courtesy Constantin Films
It's a shame more PhDs aren't this badass. Or this hot.
It's been said that as soon as you fill your spaceship with metal grating floors devoid of carpeting and lights that flicker on and off, your protagonists might as well use marinade for a shampoo. However, in the case of Pandorum, the set design is a big part of the atmosphere. This ship is old, with limited power and even more limited resources. Instead of dropping beefy space marines or even powered armor the protagonists have to learn to use into the situation, our heroes have little more than their clothes on their backs and whatever improvised weapons they can lay their hands on. I never said borrowing from Alien was a bad thing, after all. We're pulled into the story and feeling the dread and claustrophobia of Bower long before we see our first creature. Speaking of which, this was the second work of Stan Winston's legendary creature shop after the mastermind's untimely passing. The first was G.I. Joe - the less said about that the better. Anyway, I might have appreciated the psuedo-tribal designs and creepiness more if I'd gotten better looks at these things, however the camera moves so damn much whenever they're around that it's really difficult to do so. Giving fleeting glimpses of a monster instead of showing us what we're in for is good as a rule. It's why the original Predator works on a level that neither Aliens vs. Predator movie comes close to reaching. But the more Pandorum goes on, the more it feels the film crew shot it this way after getting drunk and deciding emulating Michael Bay's camera work was a great idea for their fight scenes.
Courtesy Constantin Films
I don't think Dennis wants to be reminded of G.I. Joe, either.
Another problem this movie has is in sound design. Now, the soundtrack of Pandorum isn't all that bad, at least to my ears but then again I'm a sucker for tribal drums in my sci-fi, e.g. Bear McCreary's kickass music for Battlestar Galactica. And the screams of the creatures are fine, creaking bulkheads, visceral tearing noises, etc. The problem I had was with the level of dialog. With so much else going on it's really easy to lose lines or entire exchanges as they're frantically whispered between the survivors. I understood that being quiet was necessary for survival in most of the open areas of the ship, but some scenes were very difficult for me to follow in terms of dialog. Then again, this might be the fault of watching this via the Netflix Instant service in a room right next to a busy intersection. There are a lot of minor flaws in the overall movie that would cripple the entire project if there weren't good things holding them up. Beyond the set design and lighting, we have a pace that gradually builds the tension and is in no rush to get to the bottom of the mysteries, opting instead to keep the action moving and build the characters. Par for the course considering this somewhat derivative material, the characters we get aren't really all that deep or unique. However, what I like about them is that none of them are beefy macho space marines. The obligatory knife-twirling action babe began life as a geneticist and her stoic, large spear-wielding guardian was a farmer. These are normal people that managed to survive in extraordinary circumstances. The closest we come to military characters are Payton and Bower. And while Bower does some of the heavy lifting action-wise, he's not exactly the Emperor's Finest.
Courtesy Constantin Films
Bower and the film's only ray gun.
This is a good thing, though. It's one of the best things Pandorum has going for it. Ben Foster as Bower does just about everything right in ways that invoke pleasant memories of Bruce Willis playing John McClaine in Die Hard. He and the other survivors demonstrate good instincts and decent cognitive skills, for the most part. There's only one point at which an audience might yell at the screen at a character for making a bad decision. I've always liked Ben Foster, from his funny and touching turn as Spacker Dave in The Punisher to his unhinged second gun to Russell Crowe in 3:10 To Yuma. Seeing him take the lead here is a very pleasant experience, and as much as Bower might be just an engineer and not cut out for combat or extreme survival, there is a scene in which my jaw was hanging open - not at the visuals, not at the viscera, but merely at the demonstration of an everyday guy having some big, brass balls. It's nowhere near a perfect movie. In terms of sci-fi horror, Alien has nothing to worry about. Pandorum is saved from failure by surprisingly decent writing and acting, excellent set design and a premise that assumes the audience is smart enough to follow along without needing things explicitly spelled out every step of the way. They just seem to forget that we've seen other movies before, meaning we've seen some of these elements before as well. If Pandorum were a baked concoction, you'd throw together equal parts Alien, The Descent and Titan AE, dash it with a little Dead Space and frost it with Event Horizon after it's done baking. The result probably isn't all that good for you and you'll have tasted better, but that doesn't stop this particular little experiment from tasting pretty damn good. Josh Loomis can't always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it's unclear if this week's film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain... IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.
Blue Ink Alchemy

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum — Blue Ink Alchemy

Logo courtesy Netflix.  No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

(We are experiencing difficulties with the recording equipment. We apologize for the inconvenience.)
I am loathe to admit this, but I've made it a point in my writing and especially this series not to be disingenuous in my assertions. That's a good way to get punched in the face. So here it is: I don't like spook houses. Those standalone buildings in carnivals, fairs and amusement parts where part-timers are paid to jump out of closets at you? Yeah. Not really my scene. I don't consider it horrific when I get startled. It's just annoying. Around this time last year when Pandorum was out I didn't really pay much attention to it, half-expecting it to be a jump-out scarefest dressed up as a high-concept sci-fi horror flick. This is one of those times when I'm pretty happy to admit I was wrong.
Courtesy Constantin Films
The Elysium is a spacecraft carrying thousands of colonists and biological samples for the settlement of the distant Earth-like planet of Tanis. Earth has just about run out of room and resources. While humanity suffocates on its own wastefulness and hubris, the Elysium's passengers are kept in deep cryogenic sleep for their 123-year journey with the promise that they'll save anybody left behind. When Corporal Bowers wakes up for his shift, however, there are immediate problems. He's been out long enough to lose parts of his memory. His ship is dying, its reactor core malfunctioning and its navigational systems unable to tell him where they are. His superior officer, Lieutenant Payton, has a similar memory problem when he wakes up. As Bower heads for the reactor to fix the ship and Peyton acts as mission control at the one working console, two things become apparent very quickly: The officers are not alone aboard the Elysium, and one or both of them are suffering from a mental condition similar to nitrogen narcosis related to extended cryogenic sleep - a condition they call Pandorum. Do you have a feeling you know where this is going? If not, maybe you should consider watching more movies. Specifically, you need to check out Alien, The Descent and Event Horizon, because those are movies that at best inspired Pandorum and at worst were victims of a blatant idea mugging at its hands. Players of System Shock 2 or Dead Space will feel right at home as well. On the surface, there isn't much about the concept, narrative through-line or inevitable "twist" moments that haven't been seen, experienced or lampshaded before. But that's a general overview and maybe a little unfair. The devil, as they say, is in the details.
Courtesy Constantin Films
It's a shame more PhDs aren't this badass. Or this hot.
It's been said that as soon as you fill your spaceship with metal grating floors devoid of carpeting and lights that flicker on and off, your protagonists might as well use marinade for a shampoo. However, in the case of Pandorum, the set design is a big part of the atmosphere. This ship is old, with limited power and even more limited resources. Instead of dropping beefy space marines or even powered armor the protagonists have to learn to use into the situation, our heroes have little more than their clothes on their backs and whatever improvised weapons they can lay their hands on. I never said borrowing from Alien was a bad thing, after all. We're pulled into the story and feeling the dread and claustrophobia of Bower long before we see our first creature. Speaking of which, this was the second work of Stan Winston's legendary creature shop after the mastermind's untimely passing. The first was G.I. Joe - the less said about that the better. Anyway, I might have appreciated the psuedo-tribal designs and creepiness more if I'd gotten better looks at these things, however the camera moves so damn much whenever they're around that it's really difficult to do so. Giving fleeting glimpses of a monster instead of showing us what we're in for is good as a rule. It's why the original Predator works on a level that neither Aliens vs. Predator movie comes close to reaching. But the more Pandorum goes on, the more it feels the film crew shot it this way after getting drunk and deciding emulating Michael Bay's camera work was a great idea for their fight scenes.
Courtesy Constantin Films
I don't think Dennis wants to be reminded of G.I. Joe, either.
Another problem this movie has is in sound design. Now, the soundtrack of Pandorum isn't all that bad, at least to my ears but then again I'm a sucker for tribal drums in my sci-fi, e.g. Bear McCreary's kickass music for Battlestar Galactica. And the screams of the creatures are fine, creaking bulkheads, visceral tearing noises, etc. The problem I had was with the level of dialog. With so much else going on it's really easy to lose lines or entire exchanges as they're frantically whispered between the survivors. I understood that being quiet was necessary for survival in most of the open areas of the ship, but some scenes were very difficult for me to follow in terms of dialog. Then again, this might be the fault of watching this via the Netflix Instant service in a room right next to a busy intersection. There are a lot of minor flaws in the overall movie that would cripple the entire project if there weren't good things holding them up. Beyond the set design and lighting, we have a pace that gradually builds the tension and is in no rush to get to the bottom of the mysteries, opting instead to keep the action moving and build the characters. Par for the course considering this somewhat derivative material, the characters we get aren't really all that deep or unique. However, what I like about them is that none of them are beefy macho space marines. The obligatory knife-twirling action babe began life as a geneticist and her stoic, large spear-wielding guardian was a farmer. These are normal people that managed to survive in extraordinary circumstances. The closest we come to military characters are Payton and Bower. And while Bower does some of the heavy lifting action-wise, he's not exactly the Emperor's Finest.
Courtesy Constantin Films
Bower and the film's only ray gun.
This is a good thing, though. It's one of the best things Pandorum has going for it. Ben Foster as Bower does just about everything right in ways that invoke pleasant memories of Bruce Willis playing John McClaine in Die Hard. He and the other survivors demonstrate good instincts and decent cognitive skills, for the most part. There's only one point at which an audience might yell at the screen at a character for making a bad decision. I've always liked Ben Foster, from his funny and touching turn as Spacker Dave in The Punisher to his unhinged second gun to Russell Crowe in 3:10 To Yuma. Seeing him take the lead here is a very pleasant experience, and as much as Bower might be just an engineer and not cut out for combat or extreme survival, there is a scene in which my jaw was hanging open - not at the visuals, not at the viscera, but merely at the demonstration of an everyday guy having some big, brass balls. It's nowhere near a perfect movie. In terms of sci-fi horror, Alien has nothing to worry about. Pandorum is saved from failure by surprisingly decent writing and acting, excellent set design and a premise that assumes the audience is smart enough to follow along without needing things explicitly spelled out every step of the way. They just seem to forget that we've seen other movies before, meaning we've seen some of these elements before as well. If Pandorum were a baked concoction, you'd throw together equal parts Alien, The Descent and Titan AE, dash it with a little Dead Space and frost it with Event Horizon after it's done baking. The result probably isn't all that good for you and you'll have tasted better, but that doesn't stop this particular little experiment from tasting pretty damn good. Josh Loomis can't always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it's unclear if this week's film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain... IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.
Blue Ink Alchemy

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum — Blue Ink Alchemy

Logo courtesy Netflix.  No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

(We are experiencing difficulties with the recording equipment. We apologize for the inconvenience.)
I am loathe to admit this, but I've made it a point in my writing and especially this series not to be disingenuous in my assertions. That's a good way to get punched in the face. So here it is: I don't like spook houses. Those standalone buildings in carnivals, fairs and amusement parts where part-timers are paid to jump out of closets at you? Yeah. Not really my scene. I don't consider it horrific when I get startled. It's just annoying. Around this time last year when Pandorum was out I didn't really pay much attention to it, half-expecting it to be a jump-out scarefest dressed up as a high-concept sci-fi horror flick. This is one of those times when I'm pretty happy to admit I was wrong.
Courtesy Constantin Films
The Elysium is a spacecraft carrying thousands of colonists and biological samples for the settlement of the distant Earth-like planet of Tanis. Earth has just about run out of room and resources. While humanity suffocates on its own wastefulness and hubris, the Elysium's passengers are kept in deep cryogenic sleep for their 123-year journey with the promise that they'll save anybody left behind. When Corporal Bowers wakes up for his shift, however, there are immediate problems. He's been out long enough to lose parts of his memory. His ship is dying, its reactor core malfunctioning and its navigational systems unable to tell him where they are. His superior officer, Lieutenant Payton, has a similar memory problem when he wakes up. As Bower heads for the reactor to fix the ship and Peyton acts as mission control at the one working console, two things become apparent very quickly: The officers are not alone aboard the Elysium, and one or both of them are suffering from a mental condition similar to nitrogen narcosis related to extended cryogenic sleep - a condition they call Pandorum. Do you have a feeling you know where this is going? If not, maybe you should consider watching more movies. Specifically, you need to check out Alien, The Descent and Event Horizon, because those are movies that at best inspired Pandorum and at worst were victims of a blatant idea mugging at its hands. Players of System Shock 2 or Dead Space will feel right at home as well. On the surface, there isn't much about the concept, narrative through-line or inevitable "twist" moments that haven't been seen, experienced or lampshaded before. But that's a general overview and maybe a little unfair. The devil, as they say, is in the details.
Courtesy Constantin Films
It's a shame more PhDs aren't this badass. Or this hot.
It's been said that as soon as you fill your spaceship with metal grating floors devoid of carpeting and lights that flicker on and off, your protagonists might as well use marinade for a shampoo. However, in the case of Pandorum, the set design is a big part of the atmosphere. This ship is old, with limited power and even more limited resources. Instead of dropping beefy space marines or even powered armor the protagonists have to learn to use into the situation, our heroes have little more than their clothes on their backs and whatever improvised weapons they can lay their hands on. I never said borrowing from Alien was a bad thing, after all. We're pulled into the story and feeling the dread and claustrophobia of Bower long before we see our first creature. Speaking of which, this was the second work of Stan Winston's legendary creature shop after the mastermind's untimely passing. The first was G.I. Joe - the less said about that the better. Anyway, I might have appreciated the psuedo-tribal designs and creepiness more if I'd gotten better looks at these things, however the camera moves so damn much whenever they're around that it's really difficult to do so. Giving fleeting glimpses of a monster instead of showing us what we're in for is good as a rule. It's why the original Predator works on a level that neither Aliens vs. Predator movie comes close to reaching. But the more Pandorum goes on, the more it feels the film crew shot it this way after getting drunk and deciding emulating Michael Bay's camera work was a great idea for their fight scenes.
Courtesy Constantin Films
I don't think Dennis wants to be reminded of G.I. Joe, either.
Another problem this movie has is in sound design. Now, the soundtrack of Pandorum isn't all that bad, at least to my ears but then again I'm a sucker for tribal drums in my sci-fi, e.g. Bear McCreary's kickass music for Battlestar Galactica. And the screams of the creatures are fine, creaking bulkheads, visceral tearing noises, etc. The problem I had was with the level of dialog. With so much else going on it's really easy to lose lines or entire exchanges as they're frantically whispered between the survivors. I understood that being quiet was necessary for survival in most of the open areas of the ship, but some scenes were very difficult for me to follow in terms of dialog. Then again, this might be the fault of watching this via the Netflix Instant service in a room right next to a busy intersection. There are a lot of minor flaws in the overall movie that would cripple the entire project if there weren't good things holding them up. Beyond the set design and lighting, we have a pace that gradually builds the tension and is in no rush to get to the bottom of the mysteries, opting instead to keep the action moving and build the characters. Par for the course considering this somewhat derivative material, the characters we get aren't really all that deep or unique. However, what I like about them is that none of them are beefy macho space marines. The obligatory knife-twirling action babe began life as a geneticist and her stoic, large spear-wielding guardian was a farmer. These are normal people that managed to survive in extraordinary circumstances. The closest we come to military characters are Payton and Bower. And while Bower does some of the heavy lifting action-wise, he's not exactly the Emperor's Finest.
Courtesy Constantin Films
Bower and the film's only ray gun.
This is a good thing, though. It's one of the best things Pandorum has going for it. Ben Foster as Bower does just about everything right in ways that invoke pleasant memories of Bruce Willis playing John McClaine in Die Hard. He and the other survivors demonstrate good instincts and decent cognitive skills, for the most part. There's only one point at which an audience might yell at the screen at a character for making a bad decision. I've always liked Ben Foster, from his funny and touching turn as Spacker Dave in The Punisher to his unhinged second gun to Russell Crowe in 3:10 To Yuma. Seeing him take the lead here is a very pleasant experience, and as much as Bower might be just an engineer and not cut out for combat or extreme survival, there is a scene in which my jaw was hanging open - not at the visuals, not at the viscera, but merely at the demonstration of an everyday guy having some big, brass balls. It's nowhere near a perfect movie. In terms of sci-fi horror, Alien has nothing to worry about. Pandorum is saved from failure by surprisingly decent writing and acting, excellent set design and a premise that assumes the audience is smart enough to follow along without needing things explicitly spelled out every step of the way. They just seem to forget that we've seen other movies before, meaning we've seen some of these elements before as well. If Pandorum were a baked concoction, you'd throw together equal parts Alien, The Descent and Titan AE, dash it with a little Dead Space and frost it with Event Horizon after it's done baking. The result probably isn't all that good for you and you'll have tasted better, but that doesn't stop this particular little experiment from tasting pretty damn good. Josh Loomis can't always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it's unclear if this week's film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain... IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.
Blue Ink Alchemy

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Don't Write So Close To Me

Don't Write So Close To Me — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy whomever made Dune.
Feyd-Rautha will cut a bitch.
This was an image I originally hunted down for use in the potential video project of turning the IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! review of Emperor's New Groove into an entry in the Escapist's contest. However, it's feeling more and more like I won't have time to even think about seriously working on such a project. More to the point, to work on that project would take time away from the frustratingly gradual process of refining a novel to its publishable form. It's been bothering me for days, sometime to the point that I can't even stand to look in that folder's general direction. The query for Citizen in the Wilds has been the major struggling point for me. A lot of the sentiments and experiences I'm about to convey are going to feel like a pale echo of stuff that's been said before and in a much better and more useful way here. And, at the expense of tooting my own writer's war-horn, I'm making progress. I'm confident enough in my skills to say that what I've written (in the novel, mind, not the query, that's still kind of meandering around) is good. I just worry that it isn't good enough. Why? I feel I may be too close to it. Hence the Police-flavored title. See what I did there? Anyway, my big fear along with the usual little ones of not being good enough, smart enough, charismatic enough or prompt enough to grab and hold the attention of an agent is that I'm too close to the work. I'll be looking for grammatical errors, hunting down darlings and re-examining passages with such myopic focus that I'll miss some big glaring issue that will keep this from getting published. I think it's part and parcel of being the sort of person who fixates on games along with being a general media sink: I'll zone in on something of a particular interest to me, at times to the exclusion of all else. In other words, expect my blog posts to be a bit less substantial in content when Cataclysm actually releases, in other words, provided I haven't decided to play through the Mass Effect games for the seventeenbazillionth time instead. I'm wandering off my point again, but this is less of a coherent advice-focused blog post and more of a stream-of-consciousness infodump. I'm sure you've picked up on that already, and if you didn't you're either on some other, better-written site or looking up an old ICFN to hear me rant about how badly something sucks because we just don't have enough Internet critics yet. You do know you should avoid the fuck out of writers, right? Okay. Moving on. My point is that I am aware of the fact that this myopia is a problem inherent with geeks in general, gamers in particular and me most of all. Compounding the problem is the fact that I don't know what the Achilles heel of my own work is, because in the act of creating it I have inextricably put myself in very close proximity to it. I'm not about to run to the mountaintop declaring that the salvation of fans of high fantasy is at hand with this tome, fuck no, but I'm also not operating under the impression that it's absolute shit. What I will say is that my goal is mostly to have it not be mediocre, the sort of easy-to-crank-out guaranteed-to-sell-to-morons schlock I've decried on many an occasion here. But my dilemma is while I strive to avoid those things that piss me off about said schlock, I may be writing a different kind of schlock entirely and not even really know it. I can say "this doesn't work and needs a rewrite" or "this is unnecessary and I need to bypass it before I take it out back and put a bullet in its brainpan." What I'm struggling with is saying "Overall, this book is really about X in the context of Y but element Z undermines or detracts from that central theme or narrative throughline." This is probably why the query is such a tremendous hurdle for me to clear. Ultimately I am unsure if the proper course of action is to hand it to someone I trust to read critically from start to finish or to put myself through the editorial process as many times as it takes, but the fact I can't shake is that I might just be too close to it. It's a "forest for the trees thing." I can tell this tree is an oak and that over there's a pine, but I have no idea how big the forest actually is, how close the nearest river or roadkill-strewn freeway might be or how much (if any) of it is on fire because I forgot to stamp out my stogy properly and now HOLY SHIT IT'S SMOKEY THE BEAR AND HE'S PISSED OFF AT ME RUN JUST GODDAMN RUN. I wouldn't see it coming. I'm nose-deep in bark and needles trying to get the sticky sap out of my beard and the sharp plantlife out of my eyeballs. I'm too obsessed with details to realize that the kind and gentle guardian reminding me that only I can prevent forest fires is only wearing that park ranger hat because he ate the last park ranger that trashed his woods. I really don't know how else to express this impasse I seem to have reached. Hell, I don't even know if I'm writing this properly. I'm uncertain if I should be pestering those brave souls who've volunteered to test-read the thing to give me more feedback, or if I need to keep to the writer tradition of the bitter isolationist hermitage into the editorial chambers. And I remind myself that no matter what I do I'm likely to still receive a shitload of rejections long before I even remotely grab the attention of someone in a position to help me turn a hundred thousand words of fantasy fiction arranged in a particular order into something that actually pays my fucking bills. I do this because I'm crazy. I do this because I hate myself. I do this because I'm sick of working dayjobs. And, deep down, I do this because, frustration and depression and bad metaphors and all, I love it. I just need to not be so close to it. Otherwise, I may lose sight of how good it actually is.
Blue Ink Alchemy

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Real Adventures & Dungeons

Real Adventures & Dungeons — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Chile State TV
A lot of my friends and associates, like myself, enjoy reading, watching or experiencing media in which human beings are placed in mortal danger. We move humans from cover to cover while shooting at other living things. We watch as political scandals unfold. We read about intrepid people delving into the darkness beneath the earth. It's fun, diverting and sometimes thought-provoking, but when it happens in real life, it can be a very different story. For example, a lot of the gamers on X-Box Live playing a first-person shooter love to go on and on about how badass they are. But how often do these kids move off of the couch and off to their local recruiter? Does the thought even occur to them that holding a real gun and shooting at real brown people might satisfy them in ways holding a controller and shooting at digitized brown people never really can? Hell, paintball battles are frantic enough, can these people even fathom how terrifying it would be to try and make their way across an open area covered by people with assault rifles? The reason this is on my mind is because the miners in Chile are being rescued after two months. In fantasy RPGs, players are often underground or delving into haunted dark hallways for a very long time. Most players are either alone or in a small party. In the context of a game, this is no problem. But when you're actually in the deep darkness by yourself for an extended period of time, bad things happen. Those guys in Chile were taken care of in many ways and kept each other sane as much as possible. Anyway, this dichotomy between the settings and circumstances of a game setting and a real-life one isn't all that odd. I'd much rather keep Commander Shepard behind cover while alien weaponry inexplicably bounces off metal crates instead of going to a foreign country myself with little more than a submachine gun and a prayer book. Escapism is a way to experience these situations ourselves from the safety of our couches. I think it's important to remember, however, that there are those who do end up in these situations who do so without the benefit of save points, an omniscient support character or a controller to stand between them and the events taking place. And the moments when they overcome the obstacles set before them is an event much more worthy of celebration than any achievement we might unlock on our consoles or PCs. Just my take on it, really.
Blue Ink Alchemy

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Into The Nentir Vale, Part 2

Into The Nentir Vale, Part 2 — Blue Ink Alchemy

Logo courtesy Wizards of the Coast
The Nentir Vale is a campaign setting provided to new players of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition. It's present in the Red Box and most of the starting materials. For a party almost all completely new to D&D and a DM re-familiarizing himself with the latest edition, it's a great place to start a campaign. This will be an ongoing recollection of what happens to the party as they make their way through the Nentir Vale. Enjoy.
Part 1
When Andrasian, Melanie and Lyria finally made it to Fallcrest, the wagon master greeted Sergeant Murgeddin heartily. After a brief conversation, the dwarven sergeant instructed the party to take their item to Marla of the Great Church, an institution dedicated to the worship of Pelor. Given the nature of the box's contents, the trio agreed that it was best to put it in someone else's hands as quickly as possible, and a holy priestess of the sun god seemed like as good a choice as any. They made their way through Fallcrest's winding streets to Moonstone Keep and found quite a few people waiting to see Lord Warden Faren Markelhay, from peasants to local lords. They politely waited in the queue... for about two minutes. They then moved to the front and asked the officious bureaucrat about the wait and attempted to convey the importance of their mission. The bureaucrat refused to grant them entry, unwilling to even consider it unless he knew what was in the box. After one blow-off after another, Andrasian finally showed the bureaucrat the ghastly contents. Turning white as a sheet and uttering nervous prayers, the bureaucrat let them pass and promptly found the nearest latrine. Within the keep's throne room, Markelhay looked over maps, scrolls and laws. The thone's dias was unoccupied, the Lord Warden occupying a simple chair behind his cluttered desk. To one side, Marla spoke with another priest of Pelor, a young eladrin who had come to the Lord Warden to validate the deed for his manor. It was a stout, dwarven building a few miles south of Fallcrest which the cleric's father had won in a game of Three-Dragon Ante with a dwarven companion. Dwarves kept the grounds and halls clean and safe, and after spending the night there, the cleric had come to ensure no other lord or well-to-do businessman could claim it. He introduced himself to the trio as Krillorien.
"In the words of Sookie Stackhouse, 'I'm a fucking fairy!'" - Ben, introducing himself to the group.
When Marla was presented with the box, she thanked the trio and conveyed some of her concerns, which were not unrelated. Rumors of a death cult had compelled her to look into the whereabouts of a demented priest calling himself Kalarel. Unholy rituals within the land of the Nentir Vale unnerved the priestess, and she had discussed it with Krillorien prior to their arrival. The group agreed to investigate, and Krillorien volunteered to join them. Before departing, the group decided to look around Fallcrest for new equipment and armor. The Halfmoon Trading House and Sandercot Provisions yielded nothing of note save some energetic haggling, but Naerumar's Imports was another story. Operated by the gentlemanly tiefling Orest Naerumar, he assured the incoming patrons that magic was all around them.
"I don't know about this guy. That line sounds pretty gay." - Danielle
Lyria's attention was caught by a nondescript bag hanging in the corner. Orest told her it could hold far more than it seemed, and he was willing to trade her a favor for it. An associate of his in Winterhaven by the name of Valthrun the Prescient was corresponding with him on the subject of alchemy, and the last letter indicated the sage had broken one too many of his flasks. Orest asked Lyria if she would kindly deliver a masterwork alchemy set to Valthrun, and in exchange she could keep the bag of holding. The halfling agreed. Meanwhile, Andrasian looked into new equipment at the smithy. Jovial Teldorthan Ironhews was happy to see a warrior come into his shop and asked if the lad had ever used a hammer. Andrasian showed the smith his axe and inquired about fresh armor. Teldorthan related that he had come into some dragon hide he intended to craft into a suit of scale, but kobold raiders had made off with the prize. He'd last heard they were using a ruined manor called Kobold Hall as their hideout. Andrasian told the smith he'd recover the hide if the smith would, in turn, craft armor for him. Ironhews was delighted to accept. Dressing Melanie was a more straightforward task. On recommendation from Orest, she and Lyria went to House Azaer, Fallcrest's premier importer and finest clothier. Upon seeing the two and being told that Melanie was in need of clothing, tiefling and landlady Amara Azaer called for her tailor, Rodney Grant, who appeared from behind counter, gasped at the sight of Melanie's near-nakedness, took her by the hand and pulled her into his workshop for an immediate fitting. Equipped and fully stocked, the party set out for Winterhaven. On the way, however, they were ambushed by several kobolds. Krillorien proved himself immediately, his lances of light paring down the enemy numbers.
"Sparkles!" - Ben's method of invoking Lance of Faith.
They made short work of the lizardlings. Among the ruined bodies they discovered a half-soaked map with directions marked and notes made in Draconic. Adjusting her glasses, Lyria made out the scrawls and revealed the map showed the way to Kobold Hall. Considering how close they were and with the sun nearing its apex, the party decided to head for the kobold hideout with all due speed... All locations, NPCs, spells and equipment copyright Wizards of the Coast unless otherwise noted.
Blue Ink Alchemy

Into The Nentir Vale, Part 2

Into The Nentir Vale, Part 2 — Blue Ink Alchemy

Logo courtesy Wizards of the Coast
The Nentir Vale is a campaign setting provided to new players of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition. It's present in the Red Box and most of the starting materials. For a party almost all completely new to D&D and a DM re-familiarizing himself with the latest edition, it's a great place to start a campaign. This will be an ongoing recollection of what happens to the party as they make their way through the Nentir Vale. Enjoy.
Part 1
When Andrasian, Melanie and Lyria finally made it to Fallcrest, the wagon master greeted Sergeant Murgeddin heartily. After a brief conversation, the dwarven sergeant instructed the party to take their item to Marla of the Great Church, an institution dedicated to the worship of Pelor. Given the nature of the box's contents, the trio agreed that it was best to put it in someone else's hands as quickly as possible, and a holy priestess of the sun god seemed like as good a choice as any. They made their way through Fallcrest's winding streets to Moonstone Keep and found quite a few people waiting to see Lord Warden Faren Markelhay, from peasants to local lords. They politely waited in the queue... for about two minutes. They then moved to the front and asked the officious bureaucrat about the wait and attempted to convey the importance of their mission. The bureaucrat refused to grant them entry, unwilling to even consider it unless he knew what was in the box. After one blow-off after another, Andrasian finally showed the bureaucrat the ghastly contents. Turning white as a sheet and uttering nervous prayers, the bureaucrat let them pass and promptly found the nearest latrine. Within the keep's throne room, Markelhay looked over maps, scrolls and laws. The thone's dias was unoccupied, the Lord Warden occupying a simple chair behind his cluttered desk. To one side, Marla spoke with another priest of Pelor, a young eladrin who had come to the Lord Warden to validate the deed for his manor. It was a stout, dwarven building a few miles south of Fallcrest which the cleric's father had won in a game of Three-Dragon Ante with a dwarven companion. Dwarves kept the grounds and halls clean and safe, and after spending the night there, the cleric had come to ensure no other lord or well-to-do businessman could claim it. He introduced himself to the trio as Krillorien.
"In the words of Sookie Stackhouse, 'I'm a fucking fairy!'" - Ben, introducing himself to the group.
When Marla was presented with the box, she thanked the trio and conveyed some of her concerns, which were not unrelated. Rumors of a death cult had compelled her to look into the whereabouts of a demented priest calling himself Kalarel. Unholy rituals within the land of the Nentir Vale unnerved the priestess, and she had discussed it with Krillorien prior to their arrival. The group agreed to investigate, and Krillorien volunteered to join them. Before departing, the group decided to look around Fallcrest for new equipment and armor. The Halfmoon Trading House and Sandercot Provisions yielded nothing of note save some energetic haggling, but Naerumar's Imports was another story. Operated by the gentlemanly tiefling Orest Naerumar, he assured the incoming patrons that magic was all around them.
"I don't know about this guy. That line sounds pretty gay." - Danielle
Lyria's attention was caught by a nondescript bag hanging in the corner. Orest told her it could hold far more than it seemed, and he was willing to trade her a favor for it. An associate of his in Winterhaven by the name of Valthrun the Prescient was corresponding with him on the subject of alchemy, and the last letter indicated the sage had broken one too many of his flasks. Orest asked Lyria if she would kindly deliver a masterwork alchemy set to Valthrun, and in exchange she could keep the bag of holding. The halfling agreed. Meanwhile, Andrasian looked into new equipment at the smithy. Jovial Teldorthan Ironhews was happy to see a warrior come into his shop and asked if the lad had ever used a hammer. Andrasian showed the smith his axe and inquired about fresh armor. Teldorthan related that he had come into some dragon hide he intended to craft into a suit of scale, but kobold raiders had made off with the prize. He'd last heard they were using a ruined manor called Kobold Hall as their hideout. Andrasian told the smith he'd recover the hide if the smith would, in turn, craft armor for him. Ironhews was delighted to accept. Dressing Melanie was a more straightforward task. On recommendation from Orest, she and Lyria went to House Azaer, Fallcrest's premier importer and finest clothier. Upon seeing the two and being told that Melanie was in need of clothing, tiefling and landlady Amara Azaer called for her tailor, Rodney Grant, who appeared from behind counter, gasped at the sight of Melanie's near-nakedness, took her by the hand and pulled her into his workshop for an immediate fitting. Equipped and fully stocked, the party set out for Winterhaven. On the way, however, they were ambushed by several kobolds. Krillorien proved himself immediately, his lances of light paring down the enemy numbers.
"Sparkles! - Ben's method of invoking Lance of Faith.
They made short work of the lizardlings. Among the ruined bodies they discovered a half-soaked map with directions marked and notes made in Draconic. Adjusting her glasses, Lyria made out the scrawls and revealed the map showed the way to Kobold Hall. Considering how close they were and with the sun nearing its apex, the party decided to head for the kobold hideout with all due speed... All locations, NPCs, spells and equipment copyright Wizards of the Coast unless otherwise noted.
Blue Ink Alchemy