Daily OpusEverything I write is freely rebloggable. Just keep the source and tell people about my books :D [Until I decide otherwise, my pronouns are Ze/Hir/Hirself. As in "Ze went to the shops to get hir medication hirself". Thank you for the respect.]
[AN: Yeah nah that’s a bad sesh there. And maybe bad management]
The life of the game master holds many roles. Storyteller, co-ordinator, plot-weaver… and primary parental to a group of people with the collective intelligence of a tadpole. It wasn’t their fault. Not entirely. Players in a game this complicated had other things to concern themselves with between sessions. They had lives, errands, work, trivialities, and assorted nonsense that obscured their memories.
That was why the pre-session recap is an essential part of the game. More essential than the puerile humour that runs through its metaphorical veins. It is, after all, a game that centers around escapism. Dumb jokes are one among the many ways that the players blow off steam.
It’s a game where memory skills are encouraged, but only one at the table is meant to remember everything. Therefore, only one is expected to have a ton of resources at their disposal. Beware the ones that have boxes of stuff. They have more than enough time on their hands to create just about anything. But those ones are rare[1]. It may reassure many that the game master is just as disorganised as the rest of them.
[AN: Link leads to some things found on Pompeii’s walls. Most of it rude. It’s not just Pompeii, but also there’s a dick drawn on Hadrian’s wall, and Nordic runes in a very high place in a cave that read, Gosh this is a long way up, or words to that effect. Humanity never changes.]
They had been excavating for months. The city itself had been flooded by a mudslide in eras past. By all historical accounts, only the most stubborn residents refused to flee before the disaster. In terms of geology, it had gone under very quickly. In less than a week. There had been weeks of warning, and an encroaching tide of mud, all of which only lead to the people living there to ignore all warnings.
Humans could be like that, sometimes. However, there were few left when the most liquid slurry engulfed the area literally overnight. When it was over, there was no trace left and little geography remaining to assist in finding the place. In its own way, it was a time machine. Those excavating it could find the place unchanged for hundreds of years.
Right now, they were finding the graffiti of the public left in public places. Humans were loath to write in their own spaces, but the courtyard of many is also vandalized by everyone. Many a word of wit and wisdom has been left on the surface of a public toilet stall.
A: Ffs you two are grown adults. Shut the hell up. This is the tenth time I’m tell you two, there will be no warning next time and I will personally make sure both of you stay quiet for the rest of the day
B: Boo we have rights!
A: you better exercise the right to remain silent, or else – Anon Guest
Some parental threats have no weight. Themes like “I will turn this vehicle around,” are empty. Void. Children know that the adult in charge wants to get to the destination and therefore the fight in the back seat continues, though at some reduction of volume.
For the siblings fighting in the carriage on the road to Andersyll, the threat of “be quiet or I’ll make you quiet,” carried a lot more weight. Their father was a mage of some significant power, and there was no doubt that there was a spell for that. Neirogh the Vexed had a spell for everything. Including making sure that his two sons behaved themselves like civilised beings.
How he managed to sire a natural Rogue and a talented Druid was something even his spells couldn’t unriddle. Nevertheless, they had become fine young adventurers… and their capacity for being pains in a parental’s buttocks had only grown with them. Blade, the Druid, grinned and said, “I’ll commune with nature on the roof for a while.”
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
There were magnets with words on them. Yet another Human invention that could be used for long-term communication and yet was still used for random art. For instance, the poetic form on the communal chilled food store. A thing that described itself and was still a joke. Typically Human.
Companion Zue considered the words scattered around the magnetic surface, and thought about the message she might leave for the next person to come here and view.
Bugs are nutritious, was the first line. Zue felt accomplished. The hardest part was finding the right words, followed closely by rearranging them without interrupting other messages and art, because Havenworlders had trouble with magnets strong enough to cling to communal metal.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Up next, the top 10 questions you’ll get from your intergalactic crewmates. – Anon Guest
Hey, out there, infonets! It’s your friendly wandering Human Jae! Living large on the Edge of the Galactic Alliance, yeeeaaaahhhh… Have no fear, I am mostly harmless, I swear. That thing with the Vorax scout troop was a fluke I have yet to explain. Promise.
So I’ve been doing the round robin thing, escorting the. Absolute. Cutest. Havenworlders on their scientific excursions, and oh my God I could die from how adorable they are. Anyway. I took some footage with permission from my livesuit helm-cam and found… The top ten things your Galactic friends will shamelessly ask a Human! Wooo!
Okay, so mandatory offensensitivity warning for people unfamiliar with Humans, uncomfortable with incidental swears, mentions of blood, mentions of disease, mentions of violence and -hey- it’s a Human talking, that should be offensensitivity warning enough. Okay? We good? Cool. On with the show then.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
![Challenge #03064-H156: Shall We Play a Game? “ Anyone who ran a table would understand. – AmberFox
”
[AN: Yeah nah that’s a bad sesh there. And maybe bad management]
The life of the game master holds many roles. Storyteller, co-ordinator,...](https://64.media.tumblr.com/68b8c6f6f818d2e0b677ec858295acc9/fd709b26c70971c1-78/s500x750/443593ff4b6e67c59414b7b456224e21ab1bafad.jpg)
![ultrafacts:
“ Source: [x]
Click HERE for more facts! ”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dc2bcd9bcb951a7070a1f1538430e116/d7ea5c8a7b459543-e5/s500x750/8a5400c337eb070bee499274cb1274755c29c02e.png)
