Leyawiin, my old home town

I moved to Leyawiin, in Oblivion. Bought a house. It’s a rat-trap. I keep it dark because any candle could burn the whole place down. Most nights, I sit and wait for television to be invented, but sometimes I wander about. I made the clothes of everyone at a swank dinner party disappear. That was pretty funny. Laughed all the way to jail for that one. I think the Countess may someday forgive me, but I’m not holding my breath.

I patched things up with the Count by taking me and my orc friend Mazoga off to bump tusks with Black Brugo. The Count was so happy to find him dead that he made us Knights-Errant of the White Stallion, with a shield and everything (but no white stallion to ride…). He also gave us keys to the exclusive, posh estate outside of town, the White Stallion Lodge.

When I got there, the ‘guys’ were kinda shocked to see I was a girl. Well, they got over that pretty quick… and I decided to wait for Mazoga to show up… outside… we’ll go get some black bows for the Count, but no way I’m going in that lodge again.

Floors are sticky. And I don’t want to know from what.

A Pressing Obliviation

Yes, and my apologies to my friends in EQ1, EQ2 and WoW, but I have been Obliviated. I went to Fry’s for a coax cable, got involved in a little Guitar Hero dueling, and bought Oblivion. Yes, I know it’s popular and everyone is playing it… and for once, I wanted to be part of something everyone else was doing. I wanted to be Pepsi.

I spent half an hour bumping into walls and knocking food to the floor (which somewhat distracted the rats which kept tracking me) before I got my bearings. I haven’t seen an interface for a PC game so obviously meant for a console since… FFXI, I guess. I should probably dig out the PC Gamepad I used for FFXI.

The introduction doubles as a tutorial. But the game is watching you… seeing what you do, what choices you make… I played through it as I thought a druid might play. Because I wanted to be a druid, if they had that class. The game said, good luck with that. You’re an assassin. I protested. I took the assassin class and gave it some bow skills and a little bit of destruction magic and a little bit of restoration magic and called it Ranger.

Meet Etha Tanglewood the Fifth (EQ1 druid, DAoC druid, EQ2 defiler for a change, WoW back to druid), ranger.

It was a long, long road, getting back to the Imperial City. Ironically, she started from there… but with one thing or another, stuff that kept coming up… like Vamprism… combined with a Ryouga-like lack of direction (Dude! Where’s My Horse?) meant I was pretty cranky by the time I came to town. I wasn’t in the mood for some fat, obsequious spell merchant to give me a hard time on prices.

Time to pull out the Haggler.

The city watch hates it when this sort of thing happens. Good thing I’m a quick thinker.

All’s well that ends well. I saved the dead Emperor’s son. Joined the elite Blades. Working my way up the ranks of the Mage guild. Yeah, that was me that killed the Vampire Matriarch, got this snazzy chain armor.

More later!


I have been playing too much Oblivion lately. And I didn’t feed my cat last night before bed – he’d shared my chicken at supper, I didn’t want to confuse his tummy too much. And he has been sick with a horrid skin infection to boot.

So maybe that explains the dream.

Things were ticking along in the subterranean mecha-opolis I visit often in sleep. Is that why I always identified with the Morlocks? I dunno. I was with a friend; I am pretty sure this friend had once been a cat. It may have been Nostromo (the cat mentioned above). But as I write this, I think it may have been Lochinvar.

Lochinvar died of a thyroid condition a couple summers back. I knew he had it before we left Monterey, but after I moved to San Diego, I didn’t follow up on his treatment, and when he got sick again, there was nothing to be done, and he died. I promised Nostromo I would not neglect his health as I did Lochinvar’s… but I played Oblivion until late, and did not give him his nightly medicine.

So in dreams, I and my feline friend were on a tall building; an unfinished one, with scaffolding all around it, and we were on the scaffolding. This building was tall beyond measure. And after awhile, we jumped off it.

People can survive great falls. I think the record is over 30,000 feet. It helps to fall down a snowy mountain. My friend and I didn’t fall onto a snowy mountain, so we died.

But we were still around. No pulse, no sleep, no eating. Just not alive. People began to avoid us. And after awhile, people began to disappear from the world, and I realized it was pretty much all over.

Shades of Ubik.

The Problem with Zombies

My Internet connection went out unexpectedly last night. Rather than stare forlornly at the router all night, I decided to be productive. Put together that lamp I bought. Did the dishes. Unpacked some more boxes. Complained to my cat that even though we sleep together, he’s not my type…

Er… never mind about that one…

I fired up Neverwinter Nights. I haven’t been playing a whole lot of that since I moved, so I’d forgotten where I saved last.

It was a tomb. With ZOMBIES. And MUMMIES!

Okay… aren’t mummies the product of some long, long embalming work that is so difficult that it is reserved only for royalty or other dead VIPs? Would you really have dozens of dead kings coming at you? I don’t buy it.

And why would you even want to mummify someone if you lived in a realm where undead were possible? I just don’t get cemetaries and tombs and stuff in a D&D world. Every king or queen you plant is just going to come shambling back as a mummy in awhile. Zombies are the cut-rate plan for the common folk, I guess…

Mortician: Now, now… don’t let the cost deter you, Mrs. Farmer. Mr. Farmer will be wrapped in the finest linen bandages made from the best Egyptian cotton, prayed over by our very own board-certified priests to ensure an easy and may I say, stylish entry into the afterlife.

Mrs. Farmer: Dat’s so kind of yer, Mr. Mortician, but dear Harold never had more den da five bits of gold, and wit da rent an da taxes due so soon, I tink Harold would be just as happy bein’ burnt. An’ what da heck is ee-jip-shin? That sumtin’ from da northern provinces? An’ how do ya make linen from cotton anyway…

Mortician (shocked): MRS. FARMER! I cannot be-LIEVE you would put our more than reasonable mummification fees aside like that! Next time you see your DEAR husband shambling along in some field or crawling amidst the tombs at our fine local cemetary, wouldn’t you much rather he be dressed in stylish bandages rather than be shambling along like a… like a common ZOMBIE?

Mrs. Farmer: I think dis is why he was wanting to be burnt, ya know…

Mortician: Mrs. Farmer, we would like nothing better than to offer cremation services, but the powerful Adventurer & Level Designer lobby prevents us. I’m afraid you will just have to resign yourself to your husband being raised by some foul wizard or evil deity and make the best of it!

Been hearing a lot about two games I haven’t yet tried, EVE Online and Second Life.

EVE is a space sim… and it looks to have some of the best role-playing. I don’t know if that is only because, as a non-player, that’s all I hear… or because it is easier to roleplay a space pirate than an elf wizard… but it sounds intriguing.

Second Life is a playground for coders and designers… that is SO ME. All those DAYS I spent modeling my real-life office for a 3D scene I did in POVRay… or all the things I did for that PernMUSH as a glasscrafter… I fear if I get into Second Life, it will leave little room for anything else.