Things You Don't Care About

Things You Don't Care About tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011-02-21:/blog//1 2011-06-29T17:04:53Z Musings from the middle of nowhere Movable Type Pro 5.04 Why you shouldn't buy a car from O'Brien Auto Park tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.192 2011-06-29T17:03:20Z 2011-06-29T17:04:53Z

Evidently this is the week for stories of consumer woe on my blog, but in contrast to the CCP case, this story is really 90% my fault for not listening to the warnings and not being careful enough. However, this...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog

The Setup

The story begins last weekend when I went to O'Brien Auto Park (and no, I'm not going to link to their website, but I will happily link to their largely lackluster Yelp reviews for sure). I had heard warnings about them before, but I also had friends who had bought cars there and not found them to be particularly horrible -- plus they own the dealerships for like half the car brands in town, so unless I wanted to go to Bloomington to test drive cars, I didn't have a whole lot of choice. So I went there Saturday and test drove a bunch of cars. Despite the fact that I ate up three and a half hours of his time, the salesperson I was with never tried to rush me, we seemed to get along pretty well (though that's kind of his job, so it was unsurprising), and he seemed genuinely helpful about finding me what I wanted, and not just what was most expensive. Honestly, after Saturday I had a fairly good impression of the place, which shocked me.

Monday, I sent mail to the salesman and asked what the Elantra would run me with the standard package of features with a manual transmission, and he got back to me with a quote pretty fast. Again, this impressed me, but he was trying to sell me a car, so this was not entirely unexpected. Later that day he sent me mail saying that they actually had gotten a manual transmission Elantra with the features I wanted in a dealer trade, and if I was interested to let him know and he'd save the car for me. After thinking about it overnight and comparing the prices and features of the cars I'd looked at, I sent him mail yesterday morning and told him I was interested. He told me to come by that night and they'd set me up.

So I got to the dealership around 1815 (they closed at 2000), and he took me to see the car; I took a look at it and it looked fine, and then he took me and had me look over the buyer's agreement and everything after they'd decided my Saturn was worth $500 (which was a perfectly fair assessment of the old girl). He showed me the price, which was what we'd agreed on in email on Monday, showed me how much tax, title, and license was, and then gave me the final price, which was a little over $18,000. He said someone would be with me to deal with financing and finish all the final paperwork after that, and he left me in the lobby to wait for that while he went to go take care of another customer who'd come in to get his car. Up until this point, I was pretty happy with the experience and looking forward to driving my car. I admit I was excited, impatient and not thinking straight as I should have been. I had had a pretty busy day and was eager to get home and just relax before I had to get up at 0530 this morning for another hectic day before I had to catch a flight to San Francisco on Thursday.

The Shenanigans Begin

They kept me waiting for a while, which didn't bother me too much at the time, but now I can't help but feel like it was a deliberate tactic done to take advantage of the fact that it was late, I was getting impatient, and I really did like the car. After a while, the salesman came by to ask if they'd talked to me yet, and I said no -- and he said he'd just start showing me the features of the car and how to work everything while I was waiting then, since there was no point in having me just sit there. Again, this seemed innocent at the time, even considerate, but now I wonder if it wasn't just another deliberate tactic to keep me off balance.

After we got about halfway through, the finance guy comes in and I go with him to start going over the other stuff with the car, and this is where the problems really begin. The first thing he did was to ask me if I wanted to get the undercoating and that sort of junk that you always hear them push. To be fair, he talked about it in very specific terms and told me exactly what the price would be and when I said no he didn't really push it. I suspect because this is the most common type of extra nonsense you hear about, they call it out specifically so that you think they are going to be as straightforward with everything else. Au contraire.

After that, then he started going over the financing, asking me what terms I wanted and how much I was going to put down. I was going to be putting $5000 down on the car, and I wanted a 36 month loan, on which Hyundai was offering 1.9% financing. He took that and then came back, and presented me with four options -- extended warranty options, though he never said that's what they were, making them sound like the most basic option, which I've since realized added about $4000 to the cost of the car, was the cheapest option I could get. However, it wasn't -- it was the most expensive extended warranty I could get with a few small options I didn't need (like gap insurance, disability coverage, and something else I didn't need which I can't remember) taken out. I was never presented with what the payments would be if I didn't want the warranty at all. Instead of having payments that should have worked out to about $350 a month, they were just short of $500, which should have made me realize something was wrong right away. Unfortunately, I was still not thinking straight and distracted about everything else going on right now, and I signed the paperwork without reading it carefully or thinking too hard about it.

After that, I went with the salesman again, finished going over the car, and I went home -- it was already after their closing time at this point, nearly 2030. However, on the way home, I also noticed that the digital odometer, which I hadn't seen before driving the car off obviously, clearly did not match what the forms I'd signed in the finance guy's office had said. They had read 15 miles -- the odometer read just over 500. When I realized this about halfway home, I began thinking about everything else, and started to get seriously angry, realizing I'd just been taken for a sucker.

Buyer's Remorse

So, after I got home last night I just spent a bunch of time stewing about this and talking to friends and family about getting stuck with a bunch of charges I didn't want, and mileage that was way out of whack with what I'd been told. I spent about two hours talking to my dad and trying to figure out what to do, and rereading the contracts (only 3 hours too late) I realized I could cancel them, and at least get most of the extra money back. I was pretty much resigned to having a car I could never feel really good about though, and didn't look forward to dealing with it in the morning -- especially since I had 0530 maintenance to start out the day.

So, this morning, bright and early, I went in and asked to speak to the manager about my problems, and told the sales manager how I felt about what had happened -- how there was a discrepancy with the mileage, how I felt I had been taken advantage of, how I didn't want to pay an extra four or five grand for the car. He went through everything they'd thrown on the car and I told him I didn't want it, he asked how he could make it right, and I said I didn't know. By that point, I just felt like I could never trust the car, even if they took everything off and I could get it for the base price. After going through this, he offered to take the car back entirely, void all the paperwork, and give me back my down payment and my Saturn.

It was a tough decision. I really did like the Elantra, and for all the crap that had happened I still felt like the salesman I had originally dealt with had really been good with me, so screwing him entirely out of a commission seemed a lousy way to thank him. However, if I could never trust the car again, if I'd always be waiting for the other shoe to drop, if I'd always be wondering if it was worth it, even if I had gotten a decent deal, I think I'd always be unhappy with the car, even if it ran perfectly for the next 20 years. Eventually, I told him I just wanted my money and my Saturn back and the paperwork voided. To be fair, he accepted my decision, said they'd keep the car around for 24 hours in case I changed my mind, and then the finance manager came out and showed me the voided paperwork.

They let me keep my copies of the paperwork, they gave me back my key for the Saturn and the title, and I went on my way.

The Aftermath

There may have been nothing sinister about the mileage; they had said it was a dealer trade, and they said it was a screwup where they mixed up the mileage on my Elantra and another one that was being delivered at the same time. I might have actually wanted some of the parts of the limited warranty, if they had presented it to me with all the options and with the full cost up front, instead of the sketchy way with only the payments on an option sheet. I may have been as happy with the car for the next 15 years as I have been with the Saturn. Unfortunately, because they tried to obscure things and foist thousands of dollars in extra crap on me, I just really felt taken advantage of, and now they lost a sale, I don't have a new car, and I have a bad taste in my mouth just from dealing with them. My dad, who was looking at buying a Toyota truck to replace his aging Ford in the near future, certainly won't be buying from them either.

Every time I think back to this experience now, I'm going to see everything in a bad light -- suspicious of every time I got left to sit and wait for a while, wondering if my salesman's friendliness was just a ploy, wondering if that 500 extra miles was something more sinister than just an innocent error, wondering if they had the car I wanted all along and were stringing me along with false scarcity to keep me from looking too closely at the price. Honestly, that is the biggest problem with this whole thing, because it's hard for me to even say "well, at least it wasn't all bad." I got lucky, and managed to get it taken care of before I really got screwed, but my outlook on the whole car buying process is now even more cynical than it was, and I'm probably never going to enjoy that again, even in the future. That loss of innocence (or maybe naivety is a better word) is the real price of this whole mess. I've learned my lesson, I guess, and the good thing is that I barely dodged an expensive mistake to do it.

I do still feel bad for my salesman, really; I really did get the feeling that he was being honest and truly trying to help me find the car that was right for me. Part of me hopes he was just as cynical as I feel like the finance guy was because I really don't want to think that he got screwed by some other jerk at his dealership. I'm not willing to pay thousands of dollars more for a car just to help a guy out though, and I hope that if he really was honest that he gets out of that place and finds a better dealership to work at.

]]> My Thoughts on the Recent CCP Debacle tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.191 2011-06-24T15:05:44Z 2011-06-24T15:14:29Z

Thought I'd repost this here -- a summary of my thoughts on the situation with Eve and CCP that continues to unfold. Originally posted at Quarter to Three:I've played Eve since beta (with a few breaks here and there) and...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog the situation with Eve and CCP that continues to unfold. Originally posted at Quarter to Three:

I've played Eve since beta (with a few breaks here and there) and this sort of thing has happened before -- people threw shitfits over T20 and other such scandals, but for me the big difference with this is that it is getting such traction, snowballing so fast, AND -- most importantly -- it is so one sided. There are very few people trying to defend CCP at this point, especially after it was confirmed that the newsletter was the real deal, when before there's always been a fair number of people defending game changes (like removing jump bridges or the carrier changes or sovereignty changes or whatever).

I think, after the last year, people are just sensing a real change in the way CCP is running things. I don't think anyone is under the delusion that CCP doesn't want to make money, but the problem is that it seems like CCP has changed from being focused on making money through providing a strong game attracting players through word of mouth and customer loyalty to making as much money as possible while they churn and burn the player base. They've forgotten the lessons Eve should have taught everyone else -- that starting small and building your numbers slowly is the way to go, that making a game focused on providing a quality experience players can't find anywhere else is the key to maintaining profitability. The last year has shown that CCP seems to be more concerned about using Eve as a means to an end, milking it for as much cash as they can so they can get Dust and WoDO out the door, rather than making Eve a good product with a loyal following that brings in consistent revenue. Between the "18 months" fiasco of last year, the $99 dollar licensing fee for community tools, the completely underwhelming delivery of Incarna which has been hyped for more than half a decade, and now the completely two-faced discussion of microtransactions (if you can call a $70 monocle a "microtransaction) and their relation to gameplay, CCP just seems to be making a series of decisions that are completely contradictory to how the game was being run until around 2008-2009.

Even the tone at this year's FanFest seemed completely off to me, very different from the two years previous. Everything was focused on how great they were as a company, but the discussion of how this was good for Eve and good for players almost seemed to be an afterthought. The Permaband video this year wasn't about how awesome Eve was, it was about how much bank CCP was pulling down. The party was swollen with Icelandic locals to the point that a lot of Eve players just felt unwelcome at their own party, and left a bad taste in the mouths of a lot of the players. Instead of FanFest being a celebration of Eve and focused on how great the Eve community is (and it is great, despite the backstabbing and vitriol you sometimes see on forums and in game), it was more like a party CCP threw to show off. It was really disappointing, and I say that as someone who thought her first FanFest was literally one of the best experiences of her life.

I've poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into Eve over the last 6 years. Eve has been the only MMO I've ever been interested in playing because it was the only one that seemed to be committed to delivering on the promise of the genre, making a true virtual world, and I know there are people at the company that still see that kind of promise in the game and want it to be all the things that people imagined for it. The problem seems to be that the money men have become the ones in charge -- and the same way Bobby Kotick and his people from the packaged goods industry turned Activision into a CoD and GH churning machine, they seem to be turning CCP into a company focused on squeezing as much money out of the player base in the short term without regard to the company's long term profits or reputation. For a company like CCP, which basically got its start by winning the hearts and minds of its players by building a strong brand and a player-focused game, and thrived on word of mouth and good press, this seems like suicide. I don't even understand a lot of their decisions from the "get money above all else" standpoint -- surely you'd sell more than ten times as many of those monocles at $7 than you would at $70. That's what's just baffling.

The newsletter is problematic because, at least to me, it clearly comes across as an attempt to socialize an idea that may be very unpopular among the rank and file in the company. If you look at it, the people on the pro-MT side are Principal Game Designers, Lead Game Designers, Directors of Content...people in management who are going to be driving those policies. Who is speaking against it? One person who is in the Research and Statistics group. If it was meant to provoke discussion, it is not providing a very balanced view, or a feeling that dissenting opinions are going to be welcome -- so either it's a very poorly made internal publication or it's piece of propaganda, neither of which reflects well on the company.

And then to see Pann's post that started that thread completely ignore the newsletter is even more baffling. When the problem with your image is that people think the company is lying to its customers, why would you ignore what is clearly the root of the problem? It is only going to reinforce the belief that you are being disingenuous. At least acknowledge it, even if you have to say "a further statement on that issue will be forthcoming." I just don't get it.

CCP thrived on being as open and honest with the player base as it could be in the early days, and had a lot of customer interaction up and down the management chain. Obviously, as the company grows, that becomes infeasible, and no one wants to see another T20 debacle. But CSM exists for a reason, and CCP appears to have completely cut them out of the loop, and I don't understand why -- or rather, the only reason I can see why they would do it just makes them look like cowards. I don't think most of the player base is so opposed to MT to completely rule it out, and I don't think most people have anything against CCP making more money from Eve, as long as the health of the game is maintained. If CCP wanted to have an open and honest discussion of microtransactions, up and down the spectrum, I am sure that would have given them a great deal of ire, but I can almost guarantee that it would have gone better than hiding their true intentions from the player base until it was too late. Now they've not only lost the lunatic fringe, they lost the trust and goodwill of the players who may have been uneasy with microtransactions but were willing to work to a solution that benefited everyone. The loss of that trust and goodwill is something that will hurt CCP more than any number of ragequits, because the more they make it look like nothing they say can be trusted, that the CSM is as much of a sham as its biggest detractors claim, and that they are focused only on what they can squeeze out of the game in the short term, no one is going to buy an apology or any sort of reforms as anything more than damage control, not a sincere effort to make things better.

And in the long run, that's bad for the game. And that's bad for those of us who really love it, even if we don't have time to play as much anymore, because we want to see it succeed and show that there's a better way to do business than the churn-and-burn model.

As my parents would say, I'm not angry; I'm just disappointed.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 10 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.188 2011-04-28T22:20:00Z 2011-04-28T22:20:54Z

7 October 319With much fanfare, the Mariner Revenant set off today for the west under Captain Nichols' guidance. With any luck, in a few weeks, he will reach an Imperial outpost and manage to bring word of our plight and...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog

7 October 319

With much fanfare, the Mariner Revenant set off today for the west under Captain Nichols' guidance. With any luck, in a few weeks, he will reach an Imperial outpost and manage to bring word of our plight and our new colony, and bring back some much needed help. Before he set off, though, we had quite the party on the docks and Captain Nichols' crew gave everyone a tour of the ship, so we could see the hard work he and his men had put into building her these last few months.

The sterncastle of the ship is where we started, and I got to see the crews' mess, where they'd be having their meals. While cramped, they will hopefully have many of the comforts of home, at least as long as the supplies last. They have been loaded with plenty of dried pork and other provisions, but hopefully their first week or so at least they will have some nice fresh produce as well. The skeleton crew of the ship -- only about twenty men, since that is really all we can spare right now -- will hopefully be supplemented later by men Captain Nichols can hire wherever he ends up.

Above the crews' mess are the two officers' quarters and the captain's quarters for the ship. There are only three separate staterooms on the ship, with the rest of the crew in bunks in the forecastle and below deck. The officers' quarters are smaller than the captain's quarters, obviously, and don't have quite so much of the charm of home, but they looked well-built and cozy.

The captain's quarters, at the rearmost part of the ship, was a bit larger, and featured a bigger bed and some chairs, a place for Captain Nichols to retire and relax for at least a short while.

In the forecastle, there are a few bunks for the petty officers and other senior members of the crew; they have a bit more private space than the rest of the crewmen, but still share a single large room at the fore of the ship. Still more comfortable than the cramped quarters we all lived with in those first few days on the butte, though!

Most of the first section below the main deck of the ship is set aside from cargo storage and the crew's bunks, though much of it is still empty right now, to make space for whatever supplies the crew will be bringing back on their eventual return trip. This is where most of the crew will sleep.

Below the crew deck is the main cargo deck, which contains most of the ship's dry goods, packed away in chests and barrels for the voyage. There was not much to see here, but I was quite amazed by how much they'd managed to pack away into what was quite a small area. More than enough for the crew to make their journey, I am assured, especially if they can catch any fish to supplement their other provisions.

As the afternoon drew towards evening though, Captain Nichols made it clear he wanted to be underway, and we all left the ship. I took one last look at her from the bridge, to see her stretch out before me -- finally, our months of work had come together, to give us a strong ship and renewed hope for the future.

Not long after we finally made our way down the gangplank, the crew set off with some tearful goodbyes and the ship slid out of the harbor, to make its way out to sea for the first time. While we waved from the docks, I felt Duncan's arms around me again and thought that we had finally secured for ourselves a sound future.

Further entries located behind the cut.

]]> 10 October 319

Our village has seemed strangely empty, now that many of the residents have left on the ship; most of those left behind now are women, and as a result there is not as much progress being made on the various building projects. The nice thing is that everyone has plenty of space, however, which is nice at the end of a long day gathering food, making clothes and tools, chopping down wood, and doing all the other tasks necessary to keeping us afloat. Mr. Fellows has begun scouting a location on the side of the butte to build his smithy and a small stable to go with it. Eventually, it will be on a plaza that we hope to build to serve as a marketplace for the town.

When I have some spare time, I have been trying to spruce up the inside of the large residence near the top of the butte, where Duncan and I plan to reside once we are married and it is finished; for now, I am staying in one of the rooms at the Bell and Anchor, while Duncan is sleeping in the fort at the top of the hill. While I'd prefer to have him closer, he thinks it is important that he stay with the rest of the men there, where they know he is with them.

Our wedding, however, has been postponed again...both Duncan and I agreed it would be better to wait until the Mariner Revenant returns. There seems little point to getting married when I cannot even have a ceremony, and there is no one here to perform it for us, considering Captain Nichols is not here and Duncan, as the closest thing to an "official" for our small colony, is the groom. While the arguments for waiting certainly make a lot of sense, I am disappointed that it keeps being pushed off. Since I recovered from my illness, we spend a bit of time together every evening, but it is too little; sometimes talking to him is like talking to a stranger, despite the fact that our shared ordeal has now kept us together for almost a year. I still care about him, but I miss our talks on the parapet of Fort Upton.

17 October 319

The long wait for the return of the Revenant continues; the hardest part continues to be simply not knowing when they will return. Until they do, we have been laboring as if they will not. Mr. Fellows and Duncan have been working on leveling the terrain west of the mountain with most of the other men; that is the next place they plan to build, so that Mr. Fellows can have his smithy. In the process, they have been chopping down the trees there and giving us plenty of wood to use later. Mr. Shackleton went with the ship, just in case anything went wrong, so most of it is going to just sit and dry until he returns.

I have been occupying myself, when I'm not helping with chores in the camp, by sketching the various flora and fauna of the area in my diary. Most of them seem very similar to the Oestrian samples I saw during my classes at university. Thankfully, there has been no sign of those monstrous creatures we left behind at the old fort.

I have been tempted to look for more runes, but so far I have managed to restrain myself from doing so, remembering the results last time. Perhaps once contact is regained with the Empire an alchemist or runemaster will come to investigate and I can learn more from them. If this was an old fort during the Crusade, then there is likely much more where those were found.

Many of us are beginning to wonder how bad the winter will be here; last year it was very mild, thankfully, and hunting and gathering, supplemented by our gardens, managed to be enough to last us. I suspect things will be much the same here, but we did see some snow-capped peaks when we came here this summer, and I wonder if that won't spread this way. Yet another reason for us to hope for the quick return of the ship and its crew, hopefully brimming with new supplies. Once spring comes, however, I know that at least some of the men of the camp will be leaving the village to build farms in the surrounding lands.

26 October 319

Nearly three weeks now since the Revenant left our meager port, and while we wait most construction plans have ceased. A few improvements are being made to the buildings outside the butte, to make sure they are sound enough to last a tough winter, and many of the women, myself included, have been busy pickling vegetables and drying meat to fill our stocks in case the weather turns bad. I have been spending a bit of time in the forest northeast of the town, making my plant studies and collecting mushrooms, berries, nuts, and other bits of food to add a little life to our regular diet of pork, hard bread, and wild greens.

Duncan and I have both been keeping busy enough to not be bothered by the time we are spending apart, though we at least share meals and talk for a short while in the evenings, if we are both not too tired from the day's work to do so. Duncan is still standoffish when I suggest we slip off to spend some time alone, however; whether because of the image he is trying to cultivate or simply because he is losing interest in me, I don't know...I sincerely hope it is not the latter.

2 November 319

We have been lashed by storms for the last day, with wind and rain so fierce we could barely walk outside let alone take care of our usual chores. The walls of the Bell and Anchor groan with the battering of the wind and at times I fear the whole building is going to collapse. Near my shuttered window I can hear the waves crashing against the shore nearby, and downstairs, in the tavern, water sluices under the door with every howling gust. Mrs. Teasdale remains a wonderful hostess though, and through careful rationing of the firewood we've been able to keep it rather warm despite the chill.

If the Revanant is caught in this storm, I hope they can handle it better than the Dunsany Star did the storm that took her almost a year ago. It is hard to believe it has only been that long, with everything that has happened.

4 November 319

The storm has lifted, finally, and it seems as if the village escaped without too much damage. A few holes in some of the roofs of buildings in the harbor district and most of our gardens turned into a right mess appears to be the worst of it. Duncan says that the wind even whipped through the stone walls of the fort, so great were the gales. Somehow, I think I would have felt a great deal safer -- not to mention warmer! -- if we were living in our mountaintop residence already.

I suspect most of the next few days will be spent cleaning up -- getting rid of the tree branches and other debris that are scattered through the village now, fixing up our gardens, trying to put the flock of sheep we've been keeping back together, and the like. Enough to keep us occupied for at least a week -- hopefully bringing us another week closer to the return of the Revenant.

10 November 319

The long wait is over! This morning, Mr. Yancy, keeping lookout in the lighthouse, spotted a mast on the horizon, and by this afternoon the Revenant had returned to harbor, nestling herself against the docks to a welcoming crowd. The day's work was quickly forgotten as the returning sailors were welcomed by their families and the rest of the village, and word quickly spread of the success of their journey.

It seems that we are roughly two weeks sail south of Woodsport, southernmost of the Oestrian colonies, which is almost hard to believe. While that still puts the Great Green Wall between us and the Oestrian colonies, it is not that far by ship. Captain Nichols brought with him plenty of supplies and says that there is great interest in our new colony, especially after seeing the gold that Captain Nichols had used to buy our supplies.

When Captain Nichols revealed that fact, there was sudden confusion in the crowd and then excitement, as he and Duncan announced to the crowd that while quarrying stone in the butte, they had found several rich veins of gold, but its existence had been kept a tight secret, just until they were sure the colony was set. Now, with the return, they said that every one of the founding families in Griffonsport would be an equal partner in the mine, and we would all share in its largess.

The news brought even greater merriment to the crowd, and the rest of the afternoon was a hustle and bustle of activity, as the ship was unloaded to the sound of music and song, everyone in town clustered on the docks and harbor. Captain Nichols brought all manner of things from Woodsport -- from the necessary supplies like tools, an assortment of seeds, and mining equipment, to luxuries like spices, fine cloth, wine, and even some toys for the children. It seems as if Captain Nichols had taken quite a bit of gold with him!

The impromptu unloading party lasted well into the evening, and by the time everyone began filtering back to their homes, the ship's valuable cargo all packed away in the warehouses at the waterfront and all of Griffonsport drunk on the celebration of the end of our long, troubled year of isolation, the moon was already high in the sky. Duncan escorted me back to the Bell and Anchor, and then, instead of going back to the fort for the evening, I managed to convince him to stay the night with me.

I think it may be better if I do not fill this journal with the lurid details, but...I would not have imagine that this was the same man who was so insistent on staying at an arm's length from me so recently. He was passionate, intense...I was not sure at first, if I was ready, but it did not take long for me to leave my inhibitions behind. Now, as I sit here writing this in candlelight, he lying asleep next to me, I feel more at peace than I have in a long time. I look forward to a new day and waking up next to him.

12 November 319

With the crew of the Revenant back, after a day of getting reacquainted with their loved ones, Griffonsport has become a bustling center of activity again, as construction crews work and building more houses, shops, and roads in preparation for our future. No doubt, with word of our gold find circulating throughout Oestria, it will not take long before we have an influx of new settlers, hoping to strike it rich themselves -- whether by finding their own gold or by selling their wares to those who hope to do so. Mr. Fellows is keen to start on his smithy, but first the land must finish getting cleared, and the cobbles for the plaza have started to go down.

Mr. Pennyfield and his wife plan to build a bakery on the marketplace as well, and Duncan has been talking to Mr. Teasdale about building a larger inn on the marketplace, perhaps combined with a public bath. Those are all some ways off, I'm sure, but progress will probably be swift as new settlers arrive.

Captain Nichols came to talk to Duncan yesterday morning, causing much embarrassment for the two of us, as he happened to knock on the door while we were still in bed. While I went downstairs to get some hot water for tea from Mrs. Teasdale, he and Duncan talked about the trip. When I returned, he was telling Duncan that word had been sent to the viceroy's seat in Crusader's Bay, so that a magistrate could be dispatched to make our imperial charter official. Captain Nichols says he has no doubt the magistrate will appoint Duncan the governor. Exciting news, for sure -- and it meant that our penthouse in the mountain would need to be suitable to receive guests in soon, and that the two of us should probably be married, for matters of propriety -- a comment which he said with a chuckle and which I received with quite the red face, I must admit.

In light of that, today I have spent most of my time with Mr. Shackleton, who has set up a makeshift carpentry shop on the hill outside the butte, near the apartment he and his wife are living in for now, and placed a large order with him for tables, chairs, beds, and other furniture so that I can make the home ready to receive the magistrate. I suspect it will be at least a month or two for him to get here, considering the time of the year and how long it will take for word to reach Knightsport, and for a magistrate to get here. Hopefully that will be enough time for Mr. Shackleton to get at least the bare minimum done.

20 November 319

The marketplace brick is nearly finished, and Mr. Fellows', with the help of many of the townspeople, has finished construction of his smithy and stables. It sits on the northern edge of the marketplace, right next to the boardwalk, a prime location if I ever saw one. A small apartment above the smithy serves as his home, and it is kept warm quite nicely by the burning forge.

Perhaps the proudest moment was when Mr. Fellows hung his sign up above the door, proclaiming that he was open for business, and now in a much more convenient location. Now, instead of having to climb up the staircase all the way to the forge in the Griffon's Nest, those of us working about town can simply walk over to his shop, which is only a minute or two's walk from the harbor district.

Though we don't have any mounts to keep in the stables as of yet, it seems likely that it is only a matter of time until new settlers bring them from the Empire, especially if there is interest from any of the big merchant companies -- and as they seem always eager to go wherever gold is to be found, that seems a certainty. In preparation, Mr. Fellows made sure to add a small stable to his shop, so that he can provide shoeing services and the like.

And, atop the stables, Mr. Fellows has used the roof to build a small patio, where he and his guests -- which, tonight, included Duncan and I, as well as Captain Nichols and a few others for a housewarming party -- can relax and enjoy a magnificent view of the harbor. I am a bit jealous -- the view from our patio on the mountain side is better, I suppose, but it is also so far above everything I admit I find myself fighting a bit of acrophobia at times!

It was nice to spend the evening with Duncan, Mr. Fellows, and other friends who have made it through this last year with all of us; it has been a difficult year, and soon a new chapter in my life will begin. I look forward to seeing what it will bring.

]]> Reflections on FanFest 2011 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.187 2011-04-03T16:39:16Z 2011-04-03T16:47:49Z

Last week was Eve Online's FanFest 2011, the third FanFest in a row I've been to, and it was, as usual, a great time -- perhaps my favorite FanFest yet, though that has less to do with the organization of...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog Last week was Eve Online's FanFest 2011, the third FanFest in a row I've been to, and it was, as usual, a great time -- perhaps my favorite FanFest yet, though that has less to do with the organization of the FanFest itself and more the fact that I was finally not the only CAIN member hanging out there.

I got in on Tuesday morning, like I did back for FanFest 2008, and managed to get in my hotel room right away, which was a nice change from my first FanFest when I had to wait until noon to get in. After a short nap and a quick shower, I was feeling almost human and spent the rest of the day hanging out in the Nordica, just catching up with people I hadn't seen in a while (and a few people I'd only talked to online). Since the rest of CAIN wasn't getting in until Wednesday afternoon for the most part, that gave me some time to talk with everyone else, since I suspected I would be hanging out with CAIN most of the rest of the time.

After an early night, I got up early Wednesday morning and went on a jeep tour of Thórsmörk, an area southeast of Reykjavik near Eyjafjallajökull, the volcano that erupted last year. We had the same guide this year as we did on 2009's tour of the Golden Circle, and he didn't disappoint this year either. Though most of Iceland was covered with snow (for the first time I've been there), the sights here were still spectacular. There are several large waterfalls in the valley between the two glaciers that bound it, as well as some amazing looking mountains. We also went out along the southern coast, where the beach is completely made up of volcanic ash from previous eruptions.

The formation behind me in that picture was probably one of the most amazing sights on the trip; the giant crack in the rocks you can see there was made because last year's eruption was trapped under the glacier on top of the volcano, and the pressure it created shattered the rock here. It's kind of amazing to see something like that and know that it was created a little less than a year ago, and the kind of power that must have been required to do that. Just so you have some idea of the size there, that crack is probably a few stories high, since I am a few hundred feet from it on a ridge in that picture.

Like last year, it was an all-day tour, so that ate up pretty much all of Wednesday, and by Thursday morning it was time for the main event. The two previous years I'd been to FanFest, in 2008 and 2009, had been great experiences, and I'd really been looking forward to this one for a while. Despite the fact that my desire to play Eve had been waning somewhat, the player community here at FanFest is one of the things I really miss about the game. It's one of the few places you can go where there is no shortage people who are passionately interested in something I feel the same way about. Even better, this year a number of CAIN members managed to make the trek to Iceland (mostly from Scandinavia), and it was really nice to put some faces to the names I'd only seen on the computer screen for the last five years.

Since they weren't staying at the Nordica where I was, I had breakfast with some other friends I'd made on previous trips to Iceland and then headed over to the venue, and after a short search I managed to link up with them at the EON booth, where they were hanging out -- thanks to some snazzy hoodies that Kenji had gotten made. I had missed out, unfortunately (that'll teach me not to read the forums), but it wasn't hard to find the rest of them. After a short bit of catching up, we headed downstairs, since a few of them wanted to sign up for the PvP tournament this year. While about half of us went off to sign up for that, the rest of us took a look at the schedule to figure out what we wanted to check out next.

Perhaps I should have known better than to let those guys go off on their own (just kidding, guys :), but when they came back, they told us that CAIN wasn't just going to be entering one team in the tournament, but two, since they had signed us up for it as well. I hadn't even been on a patrol in a few months, so I was pretty sure it wasn't going to go anywhere and we'd be out in the first round or two, but I figured what the hell, it might be fun. That didn't start until Friday though, so we had plenty of time to see the opening ceremony, complete with a bit of an awkward speech by Reykjavik's mayor and a new music video from Permaband (they of "HTFU" fame) -- more on that later.

After that, we sat at the Design Democracy presentation, where one of CCP's concept artists made a (really ugly) Caldari battlecruiser with the "help" of the audience, and then I stayed in Tranquility for the Alliance and CSM panels. The Alliance panel was...well, the presentation from one of Systematic Chaos' leaders on why they had suddenly collapsed in the last month or two and from Noir on their mercenary operation were both pretty interesting and showed that some thought had gone into the presentation, and I have to admit the presentation by the Mittani on the Goons had it's good points, but I suppose I was a bit to "serious business" to enjoy the Test and Dirt Nap Squad presentations -- neither is particularly known for being, well, especially mature, and I'm fairly sure both presenters were quite drunk by this point.

The CSM panel, on the other hand, was a lot more my speed, and I was really interested to hear how they felt their role was evolving in the wake of the uproar last summer after their June summit in Iceland and the fallout from that. Based on other stuff I heard during FanFest, it sounds like that might have been a bit of a wake up call for some of the people at CCP, though how much of that was just to placate the players and how much it signaled a real change from the company, only time will tell. The addition of the new "small fixes" team led by CCP Soundwave was a welcome change though, and whether that was ignited by the CSM or their open letter only encouraged it to go forward, I think for many people that has been one of the best things to see for the game lately.

By the time those two panels were over, we were ready to get some dinner and go over our strategy for tomorrow's PvP activities. One of us had to peel off and head back to his hotel, but the rest of us went out to one of the bars downtown that was offering a FanFest discount. While we sat there talking about Eve, FanFest, and everything else, it turns out we were sitting right next to a bunch of WoD Online devs, who (unsurprisingly) had overheard us talking. They asked if this was everyone's first trip to Iceland (which for everyone but me, it was) and asked if we'd had the local spirit, Brennivin.

Now, I stay away from shots (I don't drink to get drunk, generally, and I don't understand why you would have a drink where the entire idea was not to taste any of it), and I certainly wasn't really in a hurry to make my first one a liquor known as "the black death." However, after the WoD guys bought us all a round, peer pressure set in. Now, when the principle use for something is to wash the taste of rotten shark from your mouth, you can sort of expect that it is going to be strong, but damn. It tasted like superstrong mouthwash -- not disgusting, but definitely not something I would be having again.

After dinner, we headed to the hotel most of the CAIN folks were staying at (Hotel Bjork) and spent a few hours going over fittings for the next day. Mostly, we were looking at high-damage cruisers, especially the Rupture, with an assault frigate to tackle. We came up with a few different options as we took over the tiny lobby of the hotel, chatting with 5-6 other Eve players who happened to stop by and overhear us. The rules for the tournament -- no tech 2 tanks, no electronic warfare, no remote logistics -- made it clear that the order of the day was going to be mostly about who could kill the other team the fastest, but just how much that was the case wouldn't become clear until the next afternoon.

Friday we all met back up at the venue and got ready for our PvP matches. Unfortunately, the tournament was running a bit late, so we ended up spending most of the morning waiting for the first team's match to start. Unfortunately, this meant that we missed a lot of presentations I wanted to see -- the Content panel, TonyG's IP presentation (which is always interesting, regardless of how I feel about some of the Eve fiction), and the women in Eve roundtable. However, around 1315 or so, our first team finally went up to fight.

They were up against a team of Goons who had appropriated the name of Pandemic Legion for their team (winners of the previous few Alliance tournaments), and after a short but hard fought battle, the CAIN team went down in flames, unable to capture the point after getting soundly defeated during the first engagement at the capture point. It was disappointing, but the Goons were a strong team, and I have little doubt that they had put a fair bit of thought into their fitting as well, and I have no doubt they were well-coordinated. Losing that first engagement really breaks up momentum, and that is what ended up killing our team.

However, that first battle gave our second team -- me, Derrys, Saiva, and Swed X -- a leg up on the other competitors. We spent the next hour planning, discussing what did and didn't work, and trying to figure out how to make our next chance better. We realized a few things pretty quickly:

Assault frigates were largely worthless. They were too squishy, especially without a T2 tank and remote logistics, and drones just ate them for lunch. The only way they could survive was to avoid engagement and stay at longer range, which meant they couldn't be used to hold the control point, which was key.
Staying in a group was important. Our first team, after losing the initial engagement, returned to the point in dribs and drabs, trying to get on top of the point in order to keep it from counting down. This just meant that they died faster. It was better to let the other team get a free 2-3 minutes on the counter than to try and engage them without a full team; you'd never be able to push them off the point like that anyway. The majority of the teams that lost, I think, ended up making this exact same mistake.
Tanking was an afterthought; putting as much gank as possible on your ships gave you a huge edge in being able to win that first engagement, get a few extra minutes of time on the point, and chase away any future aggressors much faster, and time was the name of the game. The lack of a T2 tank against T2 weapons meant that even the strongest tanks, like the Moas we kept seeing during the course of the tournament, merely died a few seconds slower than the weaker ones, and put out much less damage. As a result, we filled our low slots with gyros and tracking enhancers for the most part, and our only low slot tank was a Damage Control.
Range was also largely worthless. One of the counters to the high-damage close range setup was to have a bunch of long-range Caracal missile cruisers; however, we figured out that even if they managed to wipe the field, it would take several minutes (giving us free time on the clock). Even then, it would take them time to get to the middle of the map and take the point, giving us time to reship and return, after which our higher damage output would quickly wipe out anything at the point.
The medium neutralizer we'd planned to put in the high slot wasn't really worthwhile; a lot of teams were fielding Ruptures, which didn't need their capacitor for much of anything, and assault frigates died quickly to drones anyway. So we replaced that with another missile launcher.
Tackling wasn't really worthwhile either -- since you had to stay close to the point in order to capture, maneuverability was of limited use and even fast ships would likely get taken down by drones or taking fire from multiple angles.
Bookmarking the capture point was important -- we needed to do it right away after getting into the middle. It gave you a critical advantage coming back into the fight from reshipping; a lot of other teams would have to warp in at 20-50 km from the beacon, exposing them to fire for a critical 20-30 seconds before they were actually keeping us from holding the point.

Armed with that information, we went into our first tournament battle, and six minutes later, we had won the first round after hammering the hell out of the other team in the first engagement, and then picking off their second wave as it slowly came into the arena piecemeal. I think we lost two ships in the first engagement, and those were our only losses. A lot of the credit for this goes to the members of our A-team that didn't make it -- Kenji, Demion, Calder, and Alexande -- who helped us refine the fittings and cheered us on to victory.

The experience gave us more information to work with; we realized that our assault launchers weren't really necessary (mostly because of the fact that range and assault frigates weren't an issue), so we decided to swap them out for heavy assault launchers for the next battle, giving us some additional short-range firepower. We also realized that one of the beacons near the capture point was much closer than the others, giving us a few extra second head start on a team that didn't warp in there.

The only bad thing about winning our match meant I was going to miss even more presentations -- we managed to sneak away from the PvP room to see at least part of the keynote, but shortly before it was over we slipped out and headed back downstairs for our next match.

I have to admit, I still felt like our chances were pretty slim, considering how rusty I was and how many pretty notable corps I was seeing were in the tournament; the Goons had already proven how dangerous they were against our A-team, and I saw tshirts for some of the Rooks and Kings as well (if you've seen the Clarion Call videos, that's them), among others, so I knew there were plenty of experienced PvPers in the mix. I was starting to get back in my groove, though, and CAIN has always been pretty focused on small-gang, lighter ship PvP, so I figured we might make it another round or two at least.

Things went better than I expected, to say the least. We won the next battle, and the next, and so on until we found ourselves in the semifinals at the end of the day -- up against the Goon team that had given our first team so much trouble. We knew that this would probably be our toughest battle yet -- like us, they'd been using four close-range Ruptures the whole time, and doing a good job putting their opponents down in good order. They'd even come back from behind in their quarterfinal match, something I don't think any other team had managed to really do -- for most of them, the team with the early advantage ended up winning. We decided to modify our setup one last time before the semifinal match, getting rid of our afterburner and replacing it with an invulnerability field, to give us a little extra tank; without the afterburner, we'd only lose maybe 10-20 seconds, but the extra tank would let us pour on the damage that much longer.

After a bit of good-natured shit-talking between the two teams, battle commenced, and we got to the point fairly quickly, even without our afterburners -- right about the same time all but one of the Goons warped in almost 120 km off the beacon. One of them, unfortunately, had warped in much closer, and we turned our guns on him right away. As the three ships farther away warped in right on the point (a tricky maneuver that was pretty clever, but I think it was probably not as efficient as warping to the closest beacon), their first ship was almost dead, giving us a big advantage in the ensuing melee. We lost two ships, but managed to hold the field and destroy or chase off the rest of the Goons. Our two losses went to reship as we waited for the second wave, the counter on the capture point slowly counting more towards our side.

Knowing that the Goons had managed to come back from a similar loss in their last match, though, we knew we weren't out of the woods yet. Luckily, our reinforcements arrived almost simultaneously with their second wave, and again we managed to fend them off and hold the point, by which time they couldn't stop us from getting the five minutes we needed to win the match. When I talked to one of the Goon players later at Saturday's party, it was clear what had given us the advantage; their setup had been very similar to ours, though they'd kept an afterburner in the mids and loaded it up with armor in the lows, instead of the damage and tracking mods we'd put in. The extra damage, multiplied by our four ships on the field, had given us the upper hand; their armor had only given them a few extra seconds, and it wasn't enough to keep us from finishing them off.

With our toughest match so far out of the way, we were through into the finals, and no one was more surprised than I was. I'd missed pretty much everything else on Friday because of it, which was disappointing (and I hope next year, the tournament keeps closer to the schedule so participants can do more stuff outside of the tournament), but we were going to be having the finals in the main room the next day, and we'd already taken second place at the very least, which meant we were leaving FanFest with a new video card, if nothing else.

There wasn't much left of Friday after that; most of the other guys had signed up for one of the pub crawls with a dev, so they were taking off for downtown to do that, and I headed back to the Nordica and met up with some other friends of mine, and hung out with them most of the evening, before finally making my way back to bed to get ready for the next day.

Saturday morning we reconvened at the Nordica at a little before 1100, and you could tell that not everyone had quite survived the pub crawl intact; Derrys and I had skipped out on that, and it looked like Saiva and Swed had survived it in decent shape, but Alexande was definitely looking a little green around the gills (a lot more green a little later at the venue), but hopefully we'd still be in fighting shape for the finals at 1300. We spent another hour or so hanging out in a very sparsely-filled event hall (evidently Alexande wasn't the only one still trying to recover from the pub crawl) and then went on over to Tranquility to get ready for our match.

Despite the fact that Derrys and I kept telling everyone it was just another match, and that we should just focus on what we had to do, I can't deny the thought of getting up on stage in front of a few hundred people, where our prowess (or lack there of) would be visible for all to see, was a mite bit intimidating. When they marched us up on stage and we started taking our places, I think that's when the nervousness really took hold. We must have sat on the stage for 15 minutes or so, just waiting to log in and start fitting, and that was the worst. Once we could log in and start fitting, at least then there was something to focus on to distract me from the rapidly-filling hall. The commentators started their spiel on stage and in just a few minutes we were undocking to begin the fight. You can see for yourself what happened here:

It seems like the other team had tried to come in with three artillery-fit Ruptures and a tanked Moa to hold the point, but one of them had accidentally warped in on the beacon with the Moa. As discussed before, this wasn't really the optimal strategy, but the miswarp pretty much condemned them to a quick death, and like so many of the teams we'd faced before, that first engagement set the tone for the rest. We lost one ship even so, and Derrys had to warp back to the station afterward with very little structure left, but that pretty much decided the match right there. Since he only had to repair, Derrys got back to the point just as the first ships from the other team started to trickle back into the arena. Coming in only one or two at a time pretty much doomed them, and we tore them apart (though I almost went down at the end).

After that, we went up to get interviewed by StevieSG, though that ended up waiting until after the third place match, when the team we beat in the semifinals, the "Pandemic Legion" Goon team, took a win with a rather comedic laser-and-smartbomb party. I think we were all pretty surprised they won with that, but I think it had a lot to do with the fact that the Goons were pretty well coordinated, even with a comedy fit, and that the other team, through a fluke of teams not showing up, had only fought one battle in the tournament -- their semifinal -- and they had lost it, so they hadn't had the opportunity to refine their strategy that most of the other teams had had. If you want to skip right to our interview in that video, by the way, you can fast forward to 26:10.

After the PvP finals, they cleared the room to get ready for what is usually the main showcase of FanFest, CCP Presents. In previous years, this has been used to announce the content of upcoming expansions -- in 2008, it was used to reveal Apocrypha to great acclaim, for instance. This year, though, it was a little lackluster. Honestly, it felt a little like it was more of a presentation for potential investors or for industry folks and a lot less for the fans, though. A lot of the presentation was taken up by a discussion of Carbon, CCP's distilled framework that is forming the new "guts" of Eve, WoD Online, Dust 514, and presumably most of their other projects going forward, and a significant chunk of the rest was them bringing Nvidia guys up on stage to talk about the stuff CCP is working on in partnership with them.

From a technical point of view, Carbon is really an interesting project, but because it's mostly infrastructure, there's not a lot of red meat for fans to sink their teeth into (as indicated by the skit about a CarbonFest during the presentation) and the Nvidia stuff tended to come off as a lot of technology marketing wankery. Telling players that the current technology could only render a few characters on screen at once, but in five years we'd be able to have hundreds of character on screen at once, isn't really something to get excited about -- after the last year's troubles with CSM being told that Eve is going to be stagnant for 18 months, you'd think they'd be very wary of the "just wait a while" line of discussion.

As far as new stuff for Eve goes, all we really got were a few glimpses of the Captain's Quarters stuff for Incarna that is supposed to be rolled out this summer, some new turret graphics and animations -- admittedly they looked cool, but most PvPers tend to turn off turret effects anyway, so response was somewhat muted -- and a new trailer for the "future vision" of Eve, which, while really cool, didn't really show players what they would be getting in the next year or two, and quite frankly I think a lot of people are skeptical can ever really be pulled off. CCP seems very confident about it, to be sure, and the idea of a seamless transition from ship combat, to walking in stations, to boots-on-the-ground combat in Dust is a really amazing concept, but the proof is in the execution, and CCP has had a little trouble with that as of late. A lot of people I talked to were a little upset to see CCP shooting for the moon when they thought there was a lot of major stuff in the game right now -- sovereignty, planetary interaction, and factional warfare, for instance -- which still need a lot of work before they really live up to people's expectations. I guess we'll just have to see how it goes, but here's the trailer with a taste of what CCP sees for the future of Eve:

With that out of the way, we all went to get some dinner before coming back to the venue for the Party at the Top of the World, which is what closes out the FanFest every year. It's one of the biggest parties in Iceland each year, I'm told, which has ended up being both a bit of a blessing and a curse.

On the good side, it's a great party with some pretty good musical acts (though nothing this year came close to the DJ with the full orchestra last year, which was amazing) and a lot of hanging out with a thousand of your closest Eve compatriots. Our tournament win (and the fact that I'm one of a small -- but growing -- number of women Eve players at the FanFest) made our small group a pretty visible one, I guess, and I had a lot of great conversations with players and a few devs over the course of the night, and I really enjoyed myself -- I stayed until the party wrapped up at 0200.

Unfortunately, like last year, CCP decided to open up the party to the general public. I don't have anything against Icelanders -- in fact, I've found the country to be really great and welcoming -- but opening up the party to 2000 outsiders changes the tone of the party a great deal, especially since a lot of the people coming in don't seem to have any idea what the party is actually for and seem to treat a lot of the Eve folks with a bit of disdain. The party changes from one celebrating Eve players to one where we're merely tolerated, and barely at that. I can understand why some of the women coming in might not really enjoy being the center of attention, but complaining about how many "nerds" are at the party (as one of my friends there over heard them saying last year) does not really make any of us who flew thousands of miles and paid thousands of dollars just to be there feel too great about them. I can't say for sure, either, but I suspect a lot of the theft at the party was not by Eve players either -- one woman I talked to at the Nordica Sunday morning said she'd lost her coat, cardigan, and everything else at the (unmanned) coat check, which sort of sucks if you're no where near home.

I understand why CCP decided to do this -- they are Icelanders at heart, and I think they want to give their hometown a good party, and god knows it'd be nice if it wasn't such a sausage fest, but I really think that for a FanFest party, it's really important to make sure the party is for the fans who have come so far to be there. Next year, I hope they give Eve players some place that they can call their own -- either a nice big lounge near the main hall where we can just hang out and talk, without worrying about the locals or another hall or something. This, along with the more marketing-style pandering spiel at CCP Presents and even the new Permaband video, which had almost nothing to do with Eve and a lot more to do with how e-famous the last video made them, gave a lot of the previously best parts of FanFest a bit of an icky feeling that I hope is just a temporary blip.

As it was, I spent most of my time at the party outside in the cafeteria area, hanging out and talking to folks, since the main room was just too loud and too crowded to find anyone, let alone really talk to anyone. There were a lot of folks who I'd have loved to spend some time talking to, but I could barely hear them and my voice was already going, so I had to just sort of cut the conversation short. I was really glad to get the chance to talk to those I did talk to, and I look forward to seeing them all again next year, when hopefully the atmosphere will be a bit more conducive to hanging out and chatting.

Sunday and Monday were recovery days, and I spent most of those days just hanging out in the Nordica bar -- the rest of the CAIN folks went out on a Golden Circle bus tour, so I was on my own for most of the day. We got back together for one last dinner though, and then said our goodbyes and took one last group photo (which, unfortunately, I don't have, since my camera ran out of batteries). Monday's flight back was pretty much without incident, and I happened to sit right next to Ned Coker, one of the Eve PR guys, and had a really interesting talk with him for the first half of the flight, which hopefully wasn't too boring for him (I am known to ramble at times). I also met Kyoko Sakoda on the flight back (he the ex-Omerta, now-Veto guy who did some amazing movies like this one) and chatted with a few other Eve folks at the baggage claim in Boston.

Overall, I had a great time, and it really reminded me what I love about Eve -- not just the scope of its vision but the great community, and I really look forward to going next year. It's even managed to inject a bit of Eve fervor back into my bittervet bones, so I've been logging back in for the first time in a while this week, looking forward to some more good action with all my old buddies in CAIN. Hopefully, next year will be even better and we'll have an even bigger presence!

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 9 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.186 2011-03-12T01:00:53Z 2011-04-23T16:53:52Z

19 July 319The first real construction within the mountain has been going on for the past few days, while scouting parties are scouring the forest for the ships' two other masts. The excavations made to get stone for building the...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 19 July 319

The first real construction within the mountain has been going on for the past few days, while scouting parties are scouring the forest for the ships' two other masts. The excavations made to get stone for building the harbor building carved out a great deal of space, and that has been augmented with a number of wooden and stone additions; the first phase is just a large room where we can put down bedrolls and have some shelter.

As a bit of an extravagance, they have also added a small wooden deck on top of an outcropping on the mountain, complete with a fire pit.

I slept in the hall last night, where there was enough space to sprawl out a little and get comfortable, a luxury not available atop the mountain in our crude shelters. This morning I woke up early, just before sunrise, and walked out onto the deck, where I watched the moon set over the harbor. The touch of silver on the waters with the clouds drifting just above my head was a beautiful sight, only improved by the comforting heat of the fire. Mr. Yancy, who had been sitting watch on the deck and tending the fire overnight, was likewise spellbound by the view.

It is nice to have somewhere here in our new home that seems...permanent, suppose, is the best word for it; I suppose the harbor building is permanent as well, but it is not somewhere I spend a great deal of my time, nor does it seem particularly homey. This place is different; no tools scattered all over the place, no piles of construction supplies, the crackle and warmth of a nice fire, even the smell of food cooking. Soon, hopefully, everyone will have a place like this.

More entries behind the cut.

]]> 22 July 319

Life seems to have settled into a bit of a routine now, which is helping to calm nerves and let everyone rest from the past few months of frenetic activity. Captain Nichols and his small team of men still have yet to find proper masts, but lumbering continues nearby to collect wood for fires and to continue work inside the mountain. The latest project was restoring the entrance to the mountain; when we cleared that out after first coming here, we could tell that there was once a proper structure, some sort of gatehouse I suspect, that covered the "cave" that leads to the Great Staircase. Duncan and Mr. Shackleton have been leading an effort to build a new gatehouse, and today it was mostly finished, complete with a portcullis to protect the entrance should it be necessary. Though we still have seen no evidence of any of the undead or other monsters, the possibility of their return -- and of hostile natives, which do inhabit some parts of Oestria -- made it seem prudent to be able to close off the mountain in an emergency.

Another group of men has started to tear down some of the temporary shelters we built on the top of the mountain, replacing them with stone walls and the beginnings of structure that we can use as a fort. Not only will it be safer, but it should be larger as well, and better protected from the elements. Progress is slower there, however, since dismantling the old shelters is only possible when we have space to put everyone who was once living there.

Duncan and a few other men have also been sketching out designs for more buildings and layout for a small village on the land between the harbor building and the butte. There is plenty of space there for at least few buildings; they may be nothing but warehouses and tenements for now, but we can give families a place to stay and clear up space on top and within the mountain for people to live in. They also want to finish work on the harbor building, adding the second story and building up the lighthouse. Some have expressed reservations about building the lighthouse before we are really established, both Duncan and Captain Nichols think that it is a good idea -- with construction on the ship stalled, catching sight of a passing vessel may be our best hope of contacting the outside world.

26 July 319

Today, we finished stitching the sails for the new ship, a process which had stalled a bit while we searched for the last scraps of linen we could find. It was getting a bit desperate, but after using the last few bits of linen clothing anyone had left, we've managed to make good approximations of sails, at the very least. Hopefully, they will last long enough to get the ship to a safe harbor if nothing else. With that finished, though, most of the extra work, aside from keeping the "household", maintaining the small gardens we've planted around the mountain, and foraging for other bits of food in the countryside, is done for the women of the camp, and though that still takes up a fair amount of out time, I have been able to do a bit more exploring of the ruins and the Great Staircase.

I made the most curious find at the bottom of the staircase, which I believe must be at least some 150 feet below the ground. In the middle of the floor there, under a pile of rubble and dust, I found several runes carved into the floor. I have little knowledge of runecraft, but they appear to be largely intact, though I can see a few places where they may have suffered damage. I am not positive, but I think I may be able to repair them, though I admit it may not be a good idea to do so until I have a better idea of their purpose. Perhaps there are more writings somewhere in the mountain I can use to figure these out.

28 July 319

Work continues within the mountain; today, Mr. Shackleton and a team of carpenters finished outfitting another room within the growing complex here towards the top of the mountain, completing a small loft over a new room with a fireplace, which is quite a cozy little nook; it would be perfect for a library or study, if we had the luxury. For now, it will be the quarters for the children and some of their parents.

I keep thinking how nice it would be if we could take some time and decorate these rooms a little, just to give them more of a touch of home, but we are still so busy with the construction, making sure we have enough food, mending the few clothes we have left, and keeping an eye on the land around us that there is no time for such extravagances, at least for now.

Tomorrow, I plan to take another look at the runes at the bottom of the staircase; looking through some of the other sections of the ruins I have discovered pictographs showing a similar circle of runes, only more complete; the around it, I have carefully removed some of the accumulated dirt and grime to reveal some pictographs that show what appears to be a pillar of fire extending throughout the center the staircase. I have not showed them to Duncan yet; I am not sure I want to tell him until I am sure I can restore the runes, but if I am right, then this may be the key to illuminating the entire staircase without the need for a series of torches and lanterns. It would certainly make exploring the staircase much safer, and perhaps provide a good defense against the chill of the night and the rock of the mountain.

29 July 319

I have restored the runes at the bottom of the staircase, carefully carving them with some tools that Mr. Fellows gave me and activating them with some coal dust and a bit of flame. It took nearly all day, and I am still not sure whether it was the right thing to do. However...the results have been nothing short of spectacular, and I will try to recount the events below.

When I finished the runes, there was a great rumbling from the ground, as if some giant creature were clawing its way to the surface -- for a moment, I thought that my interpretation of the pictographs had been horribly mistaken. Then, a great stone platform lifted itself from the floor of the cavern, inch by inch, setting the dust on the floor jumping about, turning into a strange grey fog around my ankles. Once it reached about waist height, the great vibration stopped and suddenly the room grew very cold, as if the warmth of the very air were being sucked out of it. This was accompanied by a great crackling, like water flash-frozen by an intense cold, and as I shivered on the floor I saw a stout cylinder of glass form on top of the stone platform, crystallizing like ice out of the thin air.

When it had reached the height of a man, there was a final crack and the frosty glass became perfectly clear, and then there was another great rumbling for the briefest moment, followed by a loud roar and a sudden, blinding light as a pillar of fire shot from the stone platform, through the glass cylinder, and up as far as I could see. At first, there was a wave of heat, then both the roaring and the heat subsided, leaving just a gentle hum of power and a soothing warmth that seemed to suffuse throughout the stone floor as I sat there, transfixed by the sight.

Once I had shaken myself from the shock, I sprinted up the stairs as fast as I could -- not an easy task, considering the distance! -- and ran to the top of the mountain. As night was falling, the camp was quite crowded, and everyone who had been in our small quarters was out, lining the railing of the staircase to watch the spectacle, having heard the noise.

At the top, glass completely encased the pillar, which came to a halt at least ten or fifteen feet above the mountain. The shock was clear on the face of everyone assembled, few people could speak, they were all just looking at me, as I seemed to be the only one capable of keeping her senses about her -- the rest of the camp stood as statues.

Finally, when they regained their senses, came the relentless interrogation -- many were angry with me for what I'd done, playing with forces that, admittedly, I only barely understood, others amazed I had gotten it to work at all. Duncan, for his part, tried to calm everyone down, but then he pulled me away and yelled at me, asking me if I knew what could have happened -- the fire could have killed everyone in and on the mountain, my little experiment becoming our little colony's funeral pyre.

I am ashamed to say that...well, that I didn't really think about that, and I should know better than to play with runes, especially ancient ones, as these must be. When Duncan confronted me, I did not have much to say for myself -- to be honest, I felt like a little girl getting chided by her father for making some stupid mistake. I apologized, and Duncan made me promise not to do such a foolish thing again, which I agreed to. It was a grave error in judgement on my part, despite the fact that it seems to have worked out in the end.

3 August 319

Considering the dangers I seem to have uncovered within the mountain, Duncan has decided to focus our efforts outside once more, especially as the current rooms within the mountain, combined with the shelter and the harbor building, have given us quite a bit of space to spread out. Instead, we have two groups now, one working on building up the fort atop the mountain, now that the shelters can be emptied temporarily while they are replaced with something more permanent, and the other working on the lighthouse. Captain Nichols thinks he has found some suitable trees for the ship's masts too, and so he is working on the best way to fell the mighty oaks he needs and bring them back to camp.

I have been trying to focus on more domestic duties since the incident with the runes, and I have tried not to make too much of a nuisance of myself. Even those at the camp I consider friends, like Mr. Fellows or Mr. Yancy, have been keeping their distance from me, and I can tell that few people are happy about what I did. They may appreciate the light that keeps the chill out of the staircase in the evenings, but they are worried about what else I will uncover if my hands are left idle.

So I will keep myself busy, and try not to let my curiosity get the best of me.

9 August 319

Mrs. Teasdale and a few of the other women surprised everyone today with something special for the new lighthouse, which they finished erecting this afternoon. For the top of the lighthouse, we now have an imperial flag to fly. Some of us were wondering what she was working on, having seen her working with some of the remaining sailcloth unfit for the sails and a great deal of green dye that Mrs. Shackleton helped her distill from the cactus that grow at the edge of the desert, just to the south.

While neither the harbor building nor the ship are quite finished yet, they cut quite the figure at the head of the small peninsula there; work has also started on clearing some of the land between the docks and the mountain in preparation for the construction of some new buildings; the first real permanent residences. It is hard to believe it's been nearly three months and we haven't built any of those yet, and I can tell others are thinking that too, but Duncan has done a good job of keeping everyone focused on tasks that are of the most importance for our small colony as a whole.

I still haven't quite overcome my pariah status, but a bit of the old joviality is returning in my interactions with the men from the Dunsany Star, and I am trying to make it clear to everyone that I am extremely sorry for the trouble I caused. To be honest, though, I feel like no one is even granting the fact that what I did worked spectacularly, and now we all reap the benefits.

15 August 319

Two more milestones today; the forward mast of the ship was lifted into place and the second floor of the harbor building was built, along with a wooden observation deck on the top. It offers a lovely view of the bay and the shoreline, with plenty of room for almost the entire colony's population to crowd up there. It should make for a very nice viewing platform when the ship is ready to depart, which Captain Nichols hopes will not be long now. Of course, once the ship itself is built, we will need to gather supplies for the journey; our hunting parties and gardens manage to provide a bit of surplus, but until now we have used it to buy a few extra days without hunting so more men can be devoted to our construction projects.

That will have to change though, which means we will have to gather enough supplies quickly, and send the ship on its way. The loss of the men for the crew -- even a skeleton crew -- will mean that we have to slow down on construction once that happens too, so as much as possible is being worked on to get our little village in order. Most of the harbor area has been cleared of trees now, and work is already beginning to put in foundations for several new buildings. The Teasdales plan to build another inn, and we will be building a number of small tenements and warehouses to hold stores for the winter -- and, hopefully, to provide storage for supplies brought back by the ship when it returns.

20 August 319

Today we put the last mast into the ship, and Captain Nichols decided that it was finally time for us to give our new vessel a name, something worthy of the hopes that we will soon set her to sail with. Mr. Fellows suggested we name her the Mariner Revenant, to show how far we had come from those dark days almost a year ago now. Everyone seemed to agree it fit, and so we christened her with an empty wine bottle filled with water, which was the closest thing to wine we had around!

Already the work of provisioning her has begun; not just for food and water, but also ropes, barrels, and other equipment they will need for their journey. Captain Nichols and Duncan seem to agree that we are at least 300 miles south of the Oestrian colonies, but they are still our best bet for safe passage. Luckily, that is not that long a trip -- maybe a week, if the wind is against them, which it likely will be at this point in the year.

Work is also continuing on the fort atop the mountain, which Duncan has taken to calling the Griffon's Nest after its high vantage point and the Imperial Crest. Already, the staircase is surrounded with thick stone walls, and a small armory has been constructed. A small workshop, mess, kitchen, and storage rooms are also being built on what will be the first floor of the fort.

With the ship finished, though, the fort does not need to be totally complete before we can start building some other homes and and warehouses between the mountain and the harbor building. A few people have been talking about trying to start businesses, but right now, it would be hard to have much to trade. Cooperation needs to be our rule of the day, at least for now -- if Captain Nichols can bring back some supplies, and maybe some more settlers to help with the labor, we may be able to start getting somewhere!

25 August 319

Mr. Fellows has finished work on a blast furnace at the fort, using an ingenious system of bellows and pumps to feed a roaring coal-fired blaze. It's location, in the center of the workshop/mess area and right under the floor of what will be the main barracks, should do a lot to help keep the fort warm during the colder nights, especially up here atop the mountain. A shunt, lined with a special glazed glass, allows him to vent most of the heat outside when it is warmer, but it can still get quite toasty when the furnace is running!

Most of the stone we've been quarrying has been going into building the fort, but several foundations are being built for new buildings out front as well. I suspect within a few weeks there will be at least two or three apartment buildings for a number of the colonist families; Mr. Shackleton is helping to build up a supply of planks for everyone to use, and I can already see that many people are beginning to offer to share the work of constructing each others' homes and even businesses, as premature as I thought that sounded in my previous entry.

The last few days have been feeling rather out of sorts; I have been growing tired by mid-afternoon and my appetite has been nearly nonexistent. I could barely stomach the small plate of pork and vegetables for dinner tonight, and I fear I might be coming down with a fever. Duncan has noticed, I can tell, but I haven't said anything yet; I do not want to start a panic, after all, not now. But I have been excusing myself to my books and trying to sleep apart from the others, just to limit their exposure. We cannot afford to have sickness breaking out among the colony, not with no real doctor -- and me the only thing remotely close to one -- and with so much work still to go.

3 October 319

I have been remiss in recording the last five weeks, but the illness of which I spoke of in my last entry was worse than I thought. By the morning after writing that, I could barely move, and I found myself nearly unable to keep any food down. My body was burning with fever, and a few of the childless women helped get me into a cold bath of water that morning. Since then, I have spent most of the time lying in bed or immersed in similar baths, being fed thin soup or porridge just to keep my strength up.

I am not sure what sort of malady struck me; without any sort of physician's reference I am afraid my knowledge of disease is much more limited than a real doctor's would no doubt be. Thankfully, however, no one else seems to have caught it from me, which is even more mysterious, as I don't think I had been anywhere or eaten anything that different from anyone else here at the camp.

While I have been sick, however, the rest of the camp has not dawdled, and I cannot believe the changes that have happened over the last month. Captain Nichols is nearly finished gathering his supplies and plans to depart in the next few days; meanwhile, walked out to the deck on the mountain today for the first time in many weeks and looked out over what is a small, growing town below the mountain. Several apartment buildings have been erected, and the Teasdales have built a new inn close to the docks, where many of the future crew for the Revenant are staying while they make the ship ready for departure.

I am looking forward to an early night; hopefully, by morning, I will feel myself again, and the last vestiges of this long illness will be swept away. Duncan and I, who have only been able to exchange look from across the room during my convalescence, as I forbade him from coming near me -- the colony could not afford his loss -- plan to watch the sunrise from the roof of the harbor building, to see it rise over the mountain.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 8 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.185 2011-03-02T04:00:00Z 2011-03-02T04:03:56Z

17 May 319We have spent five days collecting food and wood from the surrounding countryside, building up our supplies after nearly running out on our journey northward. Luckily, the weather has held; we have all been sleeping under the stars...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 17 May 319

We have spent five days collecting food and wood from the surrounding countryside, building up our supplies after nearly running out on our journey northward. Luckily, the weather has held; we have all been sleeping under the stars here on the butte, with our supplies kept under the few makeshift tents we still have. Today, however, has been a flurry of activity here, and much of the day was spent building makeshift shelters to protect us when the weather ultimately turns for the worse. Tonight, for the first time in two weeks, I am sleeping out of the elements, in a cabin built on top of the ruins.

It is cramped quarters; I share this cabin with ten other women. It is better than we have had since leaving Fort Upton, however, and for that I am eternally grateful. Our hunting parties have managed to bring in plenty of meat from the wild pigs that roam the forests north and east of here, and having a full belly has improved both the spirits our small band and their endurance.

I must sleep; this has been a long day, but a good one, and I look forward to what tomorrow brings.

More entries behind the cut.

]]> 19 May 319

Last night, Duncan told me that he has begun talking to a number of the other prominent men of the camp about what to do for the future, and he told me that there is a great deal of agreement that our first priority now should be reestablishing contact with the Empire, or at least the colonies elsewhere in Oestria. Surprisingly, Mr. Tyler was not the strongest advocate of this position; he seems to have become invigorated by the last few months' travails, and I think part of him has come to see the adversity we've experienced as something of a forge for himself. However, many of the colonist men do not share that opinion, and think that we will profit greatly from the support of the Empire.

I can certainly understand that feeling; I only worry about the effort it will take to build a ship capable of the trip across the ocean, back to Knightsport, or even up the coast to Nightsbane. It will take a great deal of work just to build the tools necessary to build such a ship properly, not to mention a great deal of wood for the hull and cloth for the sails. However, I will trust Duncan's judgement in this; if we can do this without harming our chances of survival, it will certainly keep spirits high and do the most to ensure a prosperous future in the long term.

21 May 319

Today, Duncan made the announcement to the camp that we would begin work on a ship in the harbor. Though he reminded everyone of the work it will involve, it seems as if most people are relieved at the prospect of making contact with the rest of the world again. Most of the rest of the day was filled both with speculation on what it would involve and beginning the work of building the tools we'd need to gather supplies and begin laying out the hull of the ship. I helped arrange the shelter we've set aside for construction work up here on the butte; it is not quite up to the level of Mr. Fellows' workshop back on Fort Upton, but it is enough to get started with the arduous task before us.

Duncan has put Captain Nichols, the captain of the colonists' ship, and Mr. Fellows in charge of the shipbuilding project, and for now, most of the work is focused on chopping down the trees we'll need to build the hull and a small dock we can use eventually to load and unload the vessel. That will all begin tomorrow; for today, much of the work has been in planning. I took notes while Duncan, Captain Nichols, Mr. Fellows, and several of the other men discussed what would need to be done for the ship, as well as for improving the living conditions for us here.

The scale of what they are discussing is truly amazing; the ship is not to be simply small sailboat but a true oceangoing vessel, not quite as large as the Dunsany Star, but impressive nonetheless, quite able to ply the seas between here and the Empire if necessary. It will require a great deal more work, but it will also be more likely to make the hazardous journey safely. The ship is not the only ambitious item under discussion though; Duncan thinks we can turn the butte and the surrounding area into quite a thriving colony. They are discussing carving a number of buildings out of the mountain itself, and then building more homes and a marketplace around it. It sounds very exciting, but I wonder if it is a little much to be thinking about now.

Still, the thought seems to have filled Duncan's eyes with a bright optimism that I have not seen in some time, so for that I am thankful. I must get some sleep now, as there will be a great deal of work to be done in the morning, but as I close my diary tonight I am filled with hope that our long ordeal that began nearly six months ago may finally be creeping towards a resolution.

30 May 319

For the last week and a half, the sound of axes and falling trees has been a constant din, even from our camp here atop the butte. Every man in the camp almost, with the exception of Mr. Tyler's hunting party, has been at work gathering lumber for the ship and its docks; when they are not chopping down one of the mighty oaks that surrounds the butte, they are sawing the logs into planks. Mr. Fellows has made a number of casts for making nails, and he and Duncan have been scouting the area for exposed iron veins, of which they have found several.

Much of the wood for the ship's keel has already been set aside, and I suspect within the next day or two they will begin laying it out. Mr. Fellows has already designed a frame to build it in on the shore, near where the docks have already been built. I have to admit I am surprised by the progress that has been made so far, but the close quarters here are beginning to take their toll on me; I would like somewhere to sit with Duncan and talk, like we used to. Unfortunately, everyone is so close here at the camp, and wandering off at night, despite the fact that we have yet to see the monsters that tormented us previously, is still quite inadvisable, which makes it a bit impossible for us to get away.

Still, I have caught his glances over at me during the day, when he is busy with the shipbuilding work and I walk by, carrying wild mushrooms I've picked up to the camp or taking food and water to the workers. I find myself thinking of him a great deal during the day, and I am almost embarrassed by how it sets my heart aflutter. Hopefully, one day soon, we will be able to have some time to each other.

4 June 319

The keel and lower hull of our ship were placed in the water today with what seems like the first bit of fanfare we've enjoyed in a good long while. Can it really be that it was only a month ago we were fled Fort Upton? It is hard to believe. But now, we have what is our first sign that this time will be different. Cradled in its submerged framework, the hull now sits just to the side of our simple dock, stretching more than 100 feet from end to end.

At this rate, the ship could be done in just a few months, though there has been some discussion of pulling some people off of shipbuilding tasks to begin building some residences. I know that I have seen Duncan speaking to Mr. Fellows and Mr. Shackleton, and they have been working on some designs for structures built into the cliffs of the mountainside. As lumbering continues around the mountain, we are clearing more and more space as well, so there may be space to build some small homes close enough to the mountain to be safe.

I must admit that I am growing a little bored with domestic duties, despite the fact that I know gathering and cooking food more important now than ever, with our hunting scaled back so that more men can work on the ship. I did not spend those years at university to become a chambermaid, however, and for six months now, most of what I have done is either the kind of physical toil that even these men find grueling or the kind of work I could have started doing years ago if I was so inclined.

As much as I do not want to be a burden or a bother, I hope that soon I can return to the task I originally came here to do; cataloging the natural wonders of this land and, perhaps, practicing to be a physician, though with no one to train me now that seems rather difficult. Still, once we make contact with the Empire again, I hope that I will be able to pursue my studies once more.

8 June 319

Work continues to move swiftly on the ship; when I went down to the docks today, I could see that the next section of the hull had been laid down and the bowsprit was beginning to be lifted into place.

Even though it is not seaworthy, the ship is already beginning to take some of the younger people in our camp on voyages. I overheard Evyn Shackleton, son of the carpenter, and Lauren Bauer, another of the colonist children, playing together and pretending to be on a voyage across the sea. All of the children had been quite withdrawn since our flight from Fort Upton, and this was a welcome sign of a return to something resembling normalcy. Even now, as I sit upon the butte and write this in the late afternoon, seeing the the ship in the water from here is a reassuring symbol that there is life in this place, after that long trek across deserted land.

12 June 319

For the past three days, a storm has been battering the coast here, lashing us with wind and rain. Thankfully, our shelters are holding up well, and we have move our supplies into the staircase within the mountain, where they are quite safe out of the storm's reach. Before the storm hit, Captain Nichols and his team of shipwrights managed to tie down the hull of the ship, and from what Duncan could see the last time he stuck his head out, it looked to be holding. Unfortunately, there's little work that we can do on the ship in this weather, and Captain Nichols is concerned that many of the tools they were using may have been damaged by the storm. Until the it lifts though, we have little way of knowing.

Since little can be done outside the mountain until the storm ceases, the men have decided to begin work on making some places we can live inside the mountain instead of here on top of it. This will also give us some stone that can be used to build a fort atop the mountain, something which can act as a bulwark against the return of our pursuers and the center of a new colony. They began the backbreaking work of carving into the stone yesterday, landings on the staircase below the top of the butte. I am not sure how far they will get before the storm lifts and the ship once more becomes a priority, but we shall see.

14 June 319

The storm has lifted, finally, and we have begun to sort out the damage. Though the ship doesn't appear to have suffered much damage, but many of the tools and supplies for the ship that couldn't be brought inside were damaged and will need to be repaired or replaced. Captain Nichols thinks it will only slow the completion down by a week or two at most, but everyone is obviously still disappointed by the setback.

In order to prevent this problem the next time a storm hits, Duncan and Captain Nichols have decided to temporarily halt the construction of the ship and focus on building something that can serve as a construction hall for the shipwrights; no only will it give them a place to put their tools, but it will also allow us to have another place of shelter, and hopefully things won't be quite so cramped up here on the butte. They have already begun building the foundation from stone cut out during the storm, and they plan to do more quarrying from areas inside the mountain we can later use to build residences and storage areas.

Hopefully, it will only take a few weeks to build the construction hall, and then they will be able to move back to building the ship.

19 June 319

Duncan took me aside last night after dinner, and we slipped away from the top of the butte, into the bowels of the staircase's depths. Though the view was certainly less impressive down there -- aside from the staircase itself, which is still a marvel to me -- it was just like our nights at the top of the keep in Fort Upton, and it was good just to spend a few hours talking and holding each other. When he kissed me after we had been kept apart for so long, I felt myself give a long sigh, as if weeks, months of tension had suddenly been let out of my body like air from a balloon.

Mother...well, she would not have been very happy with how I acted, I suppose, but it seems hard to act very ladylike in such conditions. I do not think it much matters, considering that we have seen each other at our worst over these many weeks and we still have such feelings for one another.

When the moonlight began shining down through the center of the stair, we made our way back to the top of the butte, still holding hands, his body close to mine; most of the others had gone to bed. Only Mr. Tyler and Mr. Yancy were still awake standing watch, and when they cast their gaze towards us I am sure I turned ten shades of red. They, however, said nothing, only giving Duncan and I knowing smiles.

When I went to my bed in the women's shelter, I lay there for what felt like hours, though I am sure it was not nearly so long, just staring at the logs of the ceiling, inhaling his smell still on my clothes.

27 June 319

There's been little time for writing the last week; in order to get the harbor building done as quickly as possible, all the men of the camp have been at work cutting stone and wood for construction, leaving most of us women to handle foraging for food and bringing water to the butte and the construction crews. The matter took on more urgency last night when another storm, thankfully much weaker and and faster moving than the one two weeks ago, came up and forced us to cut the day's work short, at least outside the butte.

However, the final touches on at least what will be the first floor are complete, and it sits near the docks at the edge of the bay. It isn't much right now, but tonight twelve of the men in the camp are sleeping there instead of the top of the butte, giving us some extra space up here.

Inside, there's not much at the moment, aside from a few benches and other things the shipwright crews need to do their work, but there is plenty of open floor space for them to spread out their bedrolls on and a roof over their heads; that was more than some of them had here on the butte, where space is still at a premium.

While the men were working on the finishing touches, I and some of the other women prepared a small celebratory feast, if you can call it that, with some chicken and mushroom stew. Duncan and I ate our meal on the top of the new building, with an excellent view of the mountain. From down here, even with our small shelters on top of it, the mountain looks deserted; only the new building and the docks are evidence of our little colony.

For as meager as the meal was, the celebration did seem to lift everyone's spirits a bit and made all that work seem very much worth it. There was a great deal of excited and joyful conversation and several rounds of singing, and by the time the moon began to rise over the mountain everyone was nearly exhausted from the day's work and the following merriment. Duncan and I spent much of the festivities just sitting next to each other and holding hands, watching the others sing and dance, until we were chided by the crowd for just sitting there, and they dragged us to our feet to join in.

I have never been much for dancing, but it did not take long for a smile to find its way across my face, spinning with Duncan holding me tight. I do believe it is still there, even as I finish this entry in my diary in the dwindling firelight.

2 July 319

Captain Nichols and his workers have finished the upper deck and forecastle of the ship at last; the workshop in the new harbor building seems to be helping the effort considerably. Considering the tools we had available when we started, it is a testament to both Captain Nichols' leadership and Mr. Fellows' smithing skill that they have made so much progress so quickly.

With it coming along so nicely, Captain Nichols and Duncan have given the task of putting together sails to the women of the camp. We've already set to work finding as much suitable cloth as we can find; luckily, much of the sailcloth from the colonists' ship was saved before and brought with us on the journey northward, as we were using it for tents and other temporary shelters. I am not sure how much of it is still suitable for use as a sail, but hopefully there will be enough to make do, especially since our ship is a bit smaller than the one the colonists were on.

Meanwhile, inside the mountain, a small crew has been at work carving out more space. We've moved much of our supplies into the mountain to protect them from the elements. Due to the danger associated with the work, I haven't been able to get in to see the new space, but I'm told it's quite large; eventually, it should provide space for many people to live in, at least temporarily.

10 July 319

Duncan has asked me to marry him! He told me that if the hardship of our last nine months was necessary for him to find me, then it has all been worth it, and he wants to make me his wife. I could not help but feel giddy at the thought, and I'm afraid I must have seemed like quite the foolish girl when I blurted out a barely held-back "Yes!" before he'd finished. The strength of my feelings surprised even me. We have decided to wait until after the ship sails -- Captain Nichols has agreed to do the ceremony, in lieu of an actual priest, but we have decided to put it off until the ship is ready to sail, when hopefully there will actually be a place we can spend our wedding night.

It pains me that I cannot send word of this happy event to mother and father, but I plan to give a letter to Captain Nichols when he sails. Hopefully, he can get it into the right hands, at least eventually. Speaking of Captain Nichols sailing, the sterncastle of the ship was completed today as well, making it nearly complete, except for the masts and sails. They have already found a sturdy oak for the main mast, but finding two others of suitable size for the other two masts is proving to be difficult.

Duncan assures me that they will find suitable trees; the forest to the north is quite large, and the chance of there being no trees of suitable size for the ship is exceedingly unlikely. In the meantime, while progress is stalled, more work is planned for inside the mountain, and we continue to patch the cloth together that Captain Nichols will need for the ship.

12 July 319

The main mast was raised on the ship today, an impressive sight with Captain Nichols and Mr. Shackleton leading two teams of men with block and tackle to lift it into place. The mast towers over everything else near the beach, giving a commanding view of the shoreline, I'm sure -- I personally have no intention to find out, however, as I do not want to attempt that climb, no matter how much Duncan tells me it is safe.

Every new step towards completion of the ship takes on new meaning for me, as I know that brings my wedding day closer. The women of the camp have all given me their congratulations, and tell me how happy they are to see that I am finally ready to settle down. I am not quite sure I like the sound of that, I admit -- I do not intend to give up my studies -- nor, to his great credit, has Duncan asked me to. I do not think it is too much to ask for, for me to have my own work, though I suppose if Duncan and I have children that will change things a great deal. It is not that I do not want children -- I do, and I want to give Duncan a family -- but does it have to be right away? I suppose that will be up to the gods at this rate, as I do not think I will find an apothecary anywhere soon, but if they are listening -- I would that they wait until at least I get the chance to really see this land.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 7 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.184 2011-02-25T14:36:00Z 2011-02-25T14:36:52Z

11 May 319More than a week's journey northwards, I fear we are reaching the limits of our endurance. While we barely stopped at all during the first few days of our flight north, we are now being forced to rest...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 11 May 319

More than a week's journey northwards, I fear we are reaching the limits of our endurance. While we barely stopped at all during the first few days of our flight north, we are now being forced to rest for as much of the day as we walk. We've rationed the last of our food, even supplemented by what we have managed to hunt and gather over the trip. Unfortunately, especially for the children and the wounded, this has only sapped their endurance even more.

Tonight, we are encamped on a beach, which appears to be some sort of large bay or sound; we must be on the far side of whatever peninsula was north of our island before. It is a somewhat reassuring sight, since we have much greater chance of being discovered along the coast, but there has still been no sign of civilization so far. However, there has been no sign of any of the creatures that set us on our way either, so we thank the gods for that particular blessing.

Duncan has become withdraw and consumed with his thoughts over the course of our travels; he has taken the brunt of the blame for our predicament, though mostly from himself. I have tried to console him, holding him for hours at night, but he says nothing and has taken to skipping meals the last two days. I have reminded him that we were much worse off when we were first wrecked upon the shore, but that does not seem to help his spirits.

From now on, I'll be tucking everything after the first diary entry behind the cut -- click the link below to see the rest of this installment.

]]> 12 May 319

This morning we set off east, along the coast, and discovered something extraordinary -- signs of previous habitation! It seems that our long journey may be at an end for now, but first I should explain what it is we found.

We set off at the first sign of sunrise this morning, up along the coast, and not long after we started, we spotted a tall butte to the north east, rising from among the forests adjoining the coast. While it was easy to see that the top of the butte was strangely devoid of the trees that choked the hills and shores surrounding it, Duncan was the first one to notice that there also seemed to be oddly shaped rocks at the top -- rocks that seemed to be shaped by human hands.

While this was not a sure sign of civilization, our circumstances had perhaps led us to hope for more than was reasonable. Immediately, our weary band was set abuzz by the thought that we would finally be able to stop and find a place to settle down again. I admit, as much as I tried not to let myself get carried away, my heart was also buoyed by the thought, if only to allow us to focus on a new task and distract Duncan from his thoughts of despair.

It did not take long for us to get close to the butte, after picking through the trees carefully to make sure that there was no sign of creepers or giant spiders. From the beach, we could see the trees clustered at the base of the mountain, but no sign of any way to climb to the top; the sides were quite sheer, with few handholds that even an experienced climber could use to ascend safely.

However, we when got closer to the base of the mountain, we could see a cave hidden behind the trees. Though overgrown and partly collapsed, it appeared that it may not have been entirely natural, at least at one time. Duncan and a few other men crawled in to investigate while the rest of us held our breath, hoping to hear good news. Only a few moments later, Duncan reemerged from the cave with a look of relief on his face, waving over a few of the other men and telling them to bring tools. I could not help myself and ran to him, begging him to tell me what he saw. He took my arm and led me inside the cave, pointing to a hole in the wall where Mr. Tyler was climbing through, pulled by Mr. Yancy.

When Mr. Tyler finished climbing through, Duncan gave me a small boost so I could see through the hole. Behind it stretch a wide staircase, and on the wall Mr. Yancy had placed a pair of torches to illuminate it -- clearly in sconces set there before we arrived. It was clear that we were not the first people to come this way, and that this had been carved from the stone long ago. Duncan helped me back down to the floor while the other men helped him dig out the rest of the entrance to the stair, a flurry of picks and shovels invigorated with the hope that our journey was over. Even over that din, we could hear Mr. Yancy and Mr. Tyler shouting in amazement at what laid on the other side of the barrier.

It took nearly an hour to clear the rubble from the entrance to the hallway, and once we did, we were greeted by Mr. Yancy and Mr. Tyler, who motioned us forward, glancing upwards and downwards, as if they could not believe their eyes. Once we met them on the landing at the top of the staircase, we could see why. The short stair was nothing but a taste of what awaited us, for inside the mountain we found a giant staircase, one that stretched up to the top of the mountain and down as far as the eye could see, a great shaft with the sunlight pouring in from the ceiling. It was like nothing I had seen before; the effort it must have taken to hollow out this space was awe-inspiring.

When we reached the top of the staircase, we emerged at on a plateau at the top of the butte, in the middle of some ruins. At one time, there must have been a fort atop the mountain, with a commanding view of the surrounding land.

To the south and east of the butte, a stretch of desert covered the land, dotted with small oases and isolated cacti. It was much more vast than the small, sandy stretch north of Fort Upton, so large we could not see the end of it even from the butte's lofty vantage point.

Looking down to the west we could see the small beach we came in from, covered with trees; the forest wrapped around the butte and continued to the north, over a small sheltered valley and more hills and mountains. Our newfound perch was perfect; high above the surrounding land, with an excellent view of our surroundings and with little chance of anything sneaking up on us from below. It seemed the answer to our prayers.

While the other men went to help the rest of our raggedy mob up the stairs to the ruins, Duncan and I stayed at the top of the butte and embraced, his sense of relief almost bringing him to tears. There were few words to say that could express what we were feeling at that moment, so we stood there in silence, letting the wind wash over us.

By late morning, everyone and their meager possessions had been brought up to the top of the butte; while there was still a great deal of work to be done, setting up a suitable camp, I think the view did a great deal to calm people's nerves, so impressive it was. While everyone was concerned with practical concerns, getting us food, wood for the camp, finding a good source of water, and, for many of the mothers, keeping their children away from the edge of the mountain, I spent some time walking through the ruins. While I was thankful we had found this place, I could not help but wonder who had built the fort that had once stood here, and what had become of them. It could have been a Crusader fort, but it seemed older; I doubt a few hundred years would wear a fort down to the scattered stone walls that were all that was left here.

By the afternoon, a great deal of hard work had cleared the cave-in blocking the entrance to the towering stairs in the butte, and we were able to start chopping down trees and hauling the logs up to the top of the mountain. By nightfall, we'd managed to bring up enough wood for some small fires and to begin building some temporary shelters, though the darkness -- and the danger of slipping off the edge of the cliffs -- has ended that for the most part tonight.

Duncan is calling me over, so I will cut this entry short; tomorrow begins a new day of work building our new home, and I look forward to it. For the first time in more than a week, I feel almost safe -- and hopeful about the future.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 6 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.183 2011-02-13T18:00:00Z 2011-02-13T18:01:31Z

A short program note; this entry marks a transition from my previous Minecraft world to the one I'm currently using, which I switched to after the 13 January update. There were two main reasons for this switch. First, I wanted...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog A short program note; this entry marks a transition from my previous Minecraft world to the one I'm currently using, which I switched to after the 13 January update. There were two main reasons for this switch. First, I wanted to have access to the new blocks in the 13 January update closer to my starting point, which would have been difficult since they only appear in new chunks.

Second, and more importantly, the terrain generator was greatly improved in the 13 January update, and the landscapes in this new world are far more interesting than those I saw in the original world I used for the Amelia Primrose logs. So the landscapes you'll be seeing as the new world is explored are much more impressive, and give a much more interesting are for building, than the old world had. Hopefully, you'll agree that this was a worthwhile reason to start over.

3 May 319

As I write this, we are fleeing north from Fort Upton with what possessions and supplies we could carry after the carnage of a terror-filled night. While I must admit that fear clouds much of my memory of the last few days, I will try to recount the events that led to our sudden flight as best I can.

I remember it beginning two nights ago with the sound of an explosion at the north gate; a creeper attack, the start of something we did not see coming. There was little damage to the causeway or the gate itself, but the portcullis had been shattered by the blast, the heavy oak timbers splintered by the creeper. What we didn't know was that this was just the beginning; throughout that night, all manner of creatures mobbed the walls and tried to push their way in. Duncan and the other men fought bravely to hold them off at the north gate, and the walls managed to weather the worst of it. By the next morning, though, the entire village had been frightened to death, and most of the men were tired from helping to defend the walls. The worst had been the spiders, which had managed to climb the walls and swarm what we had thought was a safe redoubt.

All of us were mystified by what could have caused the sudden increase in aggressiveness on the part of the monsters; it was almost as if something was directing them, which was a frightening thought. Everyone assumed that the necromantic cabals which fled to Oestria were wiped out during the Great Crusade, but there were always rumors that one or two of the black magicians had slipped through the grasp of the Crusaders. If one of them was here...well, at this point, there is little it could add to our misery, but a frightening thought nonetheless.

At one point, in the middle of the day, several men fled the small mineshaft where we had been collecting iron, pursued by several creepers. Such a brazen attack, in the sunlight, sent a panic through the village. Though eventually they were dispatched, thanks to the hard work of Mr. Tyler and a patrol of men, they managed to do damage to both the mine hut and any remaining sense of safety that the village walls conferred.

It did not take long for a new round of fighting over what to do to take hold. Much of it was simple panic -- arguing for nonsensical courses of action just because they felt like they had nothing else to offer. Fleeing the village seemed ridiculous at that point, since it still seemed like our best hope, but many people began gathering up their possessions and preparing to leave. Duncan tried to get them to see reason, but after the last night many people were too scared to think straight.

I'm afraid I must take a break now, as it is time to move again; we must cross as much distance as possible during the day, to avoid pursuit; I will write more when I can.

4 May 319

We have made camp again, in a clearing in the forests here. Last night was largely quiet; three zombies stumbled into our camp just before dawn, as we were getting ready to move on again, but they were quickly dispatched. During the day, there have been no signs of pursuit, for which I am thankful. The question is beginning to circulate about how far we will actually end up going; we cannot continue traveling forever, after all. So far, the consensus seems to be that we need to put more distance between Fort Upton and wherever we decide to try and make a go of it again, and we need to find a more defensible position -- a hill or a mountain seems like a better redoubt than the island we had before.

To return to the tale of how we arrived in this situation however, it was that second night where things took their final turn for the worst. As night fell, again we heard the sounds of the monsters at our gates. A makeshift barricade had been built to block the shattered north gate and the west gate was shut, but no one knew how long that would hold if the creepers returned.

That was when a hail of flaming arrows lit up the night, sailing over the walls and setting a number of the buildings in town alight. We'd never seen this kind of sophisticated attack from them before, and no one expected anything like it; before we knew it, fires had been lit at the guesthouse, bathing the town in an eerie glow.

As the fire spread, the Teasdales and their guests grabbed what they could of their possessions and fled into the streets. It did not take long for fire to completely engulf the building's wooden interior; I tried to organize a bucket brigade, but the by the time we were ready, the flames consumed nearly everything inside.

Things did not improve as Duncan and Mr. Tyler tried to get everyone into the fort; quickly, they realized the fort was not safe either. Somehow, zombies had been able to get inside -- there was little time to investigate how, but the best guess was through the lower levels of the keep -- and we found that we had no place of safety.

Outside the fort, the fire continued to spread among the houses we'd only recently built, and everyone began to gather in the courtyard of the fort, dragging their few possessions. Mr. Tyler led many of the other men around, gathering what they could from the buildings quickly succumbing to fire.

It was not long after they returned that there was a series of explosions at the west gate, and we heard the shouts of the guards posted there. We were faced with the prospect of being overwhelmed, as skeletons and other creatures swarmed the gate.

With the gates destroyed, and the fort overrun, we were backed into a corner. Staying was impossible, with our defenses in the shambles they were now; luckily, there were few among us who were badly wounded, making an escape to the north possible. Before we could be trapped, we made a run for the causeway, with Duncan and Mr. Tyler leading the way. It was terrifying -- by this time, the monsters were swarming the walls, coming through the now-shattered west gate, and as we struggled to dismantle the barricade to the causeway, we fought to keep them away. Even I picked up a sword and joined the fight, batting away the clawing arms of zombies.

Just when it seemed we would be overwhelmed, the barricade came down and we hurried over the causeway, fleeing into the hills north of the town. When we stopped to catch our breath, with little sign of pursuit, we could see the flames of the burning village behind us, over the walls.

We've continued north, hoping to find a suitable place to build a new shelter, or some sign of civilization. Other than a few scattered encounters with monsters, it doesn't appear we are being pursued; whatever was sending those monsters after us before has either lost track of us or simply doesn't care. Our food is starting to run out though, so soon we may be forced to stop and start building a camp to hunt from anyway. Duncan remains nervous about staying in one place for too long, but everyone is growing tired, especially the women and children, though like myself, many of the women have kept quiet about any complaints, knowing the men are worrying about enough already. Hopefully, we will find somewhere to stay soon, protected from the elements and the creatures surrounding us.

]]> London and the Weight of History tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.182 2011-02-06T23:40:00Z 2011-02-06T23:43:37Z

I just got back from a week in London yesterday after spending a week with my old officemate Alex and his wife. Aside from my trips to FanFest, this is really the first place I've been to outside the States,...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog my trips to FanFest, this is really the first place I've been to outside the States, and I had a great time -- London is an amazing city, and I really hope I can return there sometime in the future.

When I was planning this trip, I honestly expected that the culture shock I'd experience in London would be far less than in Reykjavik; after all, at least in London the street signs are in English. In retrospect, I think both of them are roughly on par, and if there's a city that felt more alien to me it was definitely London. Reykjavik is still a small city (not much bigger than Champaign-Urbana) and by and large most people there speak English -- and probably because it's a second language, it tends to be spoken slower and a little more enunciated than you might get from a native speaker. Yes, all the street signs are in Icelandic, but you don't really have to know what they mean. Most of Reykjavik seems like relatively recent construction as well.

In contrast, there are few cities anything like London in the United States. I have never been to New York, but I have been to Chicago, Boston, Los Angeles, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Seattle, Phoenix, St. Louis -- but none of them is really like London. We have big cities, for sure, and we have older cities, but there is nothing that even really approaches what London is and what it represents in terms of world history.

I had this realization several times while I was over there, but two occasions stick out in my mind. The first was when I was out at dinner with someone I know from FanFest, a native Brit, and he asked me how much travelling I'd done. I explained that this was really only the second place I'd been to outside the US, but that I'd traveled around the States pretty extensively. I was listing places I'd been and when I got to Boston, he asked me why I liked the city so much.

Now, Boston is an amazing city, and I never get tired of going back there. And, in terms of how it feels, it probably comes closest to London of any US city. There are streets and buildings in Boston that are still largely the same as how they were almost 400 years ago, along with the graves of many of our founders and the sites of many of the most important events in American history. I'm telling all of this to my friend and after about two minutes I suddenly realize how utterly silly I'm sounding to him.

400 years? In London, that's an eyeblink. On Thursday, I went to Borough Market, a street market that is known to have been in existence for at least twice that long, and in all likelihood actually stretches back to the Roman occupation of Britain 1800 years ago. Westminster Abbey has been standing for over a millennium, and within its walls are the graves of some of the most important people not just of English history, but of world history -- Issac Newton, Charles Darwin, Queen Elizabeth, and Geoffrey Chaucer, just to name a few, stretching back nearly a thousand years. Within that church, every British monarch since the Norman Conquest has been crowned, and I've stood in the same place now. The British Museum contains some of the most important archaeological treasures in the world -- pieces of the Parthenon, the Mausoleum at Helicarnassus, the Temple of Artemis, and the Sphinx, the Rosetta Stone, original writings from some of the greatest minds of the Enlightenment...

I am not sure if most Americans can really understand what that means -- there's really nothing here that can compare. Everything that dates back that far here has been largely wiped out, and certainly nothing here has been continuously inhabited that long. Cahokia, a thriving Mississippian city, larger than London in the 1200s, is today just a bunch of oddly shaped hills. Even in Mexico, I'm not sure how much remains of the ancient Aztecs in Mexico City; in London, many of the buildings that were there that long ago are still standing, still in use today. Even buildings like that in Boston have only been around maybe a third or fourth as long at most. The Smithsonian is amazing, but it doesn't even come close to the British Museum, despite the fact that it is probably larger in its entirety.

The other instance where I was struck by how different Britain really is was in Westminster Abbey when our tour guide was telling us about the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior. Of course, in the United States, we have the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery, so the concept wasn't exactly alien to me, but in Britain, at least to me, it seemed to have so much more...prominence in the national mindset. In the United States, it is really only something you hear about or are aware of on Veterans' Day or Memorial Day. In Westminster Abbey, though, it sits in the middle of the floor, right in front of the Great West Door. Of all the graves in the Abbey, however, it is the only one that no one -- including the monarchs of Great Britain -- is allowed to walk on. During state funerals and royal weddings, everyone walks around it, which, at least to me, makes it seem like it has a much greater place in culture than does our own monument.

That wasn't what really struck me though, it was the fact that these kinds of traditions -- some dating back hundreds upon hundreds of years -- were almost commonplace in London. While many of them seem rather quaint, and most seem tied to the monarchy, which has its own obvious downsides, I still have this feeling like we don't have anything to really compare. The United States is both a modern nation and an almost inherently disjoint one -- we've only been around for a little more than 200 years, and almost no one here in the US can trace their ancestry back more than a few generations before they leave our shores. Part of me can't help but long for a tie to the past like that, that sense of continuity.

This weight of history also shapes modern London too, though in ways that I am much more familiar with. The layout of the city seems very much like Boston to me, only more so -- it's clear that the streets of the city were not designed for cars, or even really "designed" for anything, but more laid out in a haphazard fashion as it struggled to accommodate the geography and the way things happened to already be built. For a Midwesterner, from a place where the roads are in an easy to follow grid with no terrain really at all, London strikes me as a complete mess to get around in for a driver. Roads twist and turn all over the place, change names regularly, and narrow to little more than the width of a small truck at times. Even the Tube, rather than being the sort of hub-and-spoke design I've seen with the T in Boston or the Metro in DC, is a squiggly mess of spaghetti, at least when you first see it. Like the roads, the Tube's design, I suspect, is a legacy of its history, where it was just sort of added to as they went along.

However, after spending several days walking around, I definitely began to feel like I knew the general layout of the city, at least in the area I was traveling around in the most, which was generally just Westminster and a few other surrounding boroughs. And, like Boston, I definitely enjoyed the experience of just walking around the city, seeing the layout and the mix of architecture as I went. That's something I don't really get in Champaign or even Chicago really, where most of the construction is pretty recent (even in Old Chicago). As much of a mess as the roads seemed, it wasn't that hard to figure out where I was going with the help of a London road atlas (oh, how I missed having GPS and Google Navigation, though), especially after I'd walked around a few days. I got a rather nice sense of satisfaction on Friday when I got stopped on the street and gave someone directions to Westminster Abbey (though it wasn't really that far away).

I was also struck by the international nature of London as well; while I know part of it is that I was spending a lot of time around tourist spots, I think even while I was walking around London I heard more French, German, Italian, Arabic, and a half dozen other languages I couldn't recognize than I heard English. Even in the biggest US cities I've been to, I still hear mostly American English. Yes, some of that is because you're only 3-4 hours away from countries where a dozen other languages are spoken, and in the US that's not the case, but still...it's a unique experience you don't get here in the States (though I've had a sort of similar experience on a much smaller scale at FanFest, where you have people from all over the world convening in one small space).

Overall, London was probably the most amazing single trip I've ever taken, and I feel really grateful that I had the opportunity to go there. It definitely makes me want to not just go back and see what I missed, but to travel a lot more outside the US in general. If you want to see the pictures I took while I was in London, you can find them here.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 5 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2011:/blog//1.181 2011-01-17T16:48:13Z 2011-01-18T04:48:53Z

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 9 March 319

The next stage of the causeway is nearly finished; already the dirt causeway, while slightly unstable, is allowing Mr. Tyler's hunting parties to roam much further into the mainland. Without the necessity of fording the water, they can carry make much more with each expedition as well. Our larder is becoming well-stocked and everyone is eating well, despite the fact that there are more of us than there have ever been before.

Some of the other women and I spent much of the last few days preparing the garden for planting, once we can find enough seeds. The soil here seems good and fertile, and a harvest of vegetables and grains would certainly be welcome, as we seem to have picked most of the best plants from the surrounding countryside already. The fact that much of the northern land is desert has not helped matters.

With the help of Duncan, we dug a number of irrigation channels and filled them with water, which will hopefully help whatever we plant along. All that remains now is to actually collect enough seeds to make a go of things. Mr. Tyler has promised to keep an eye out for anything he thinks we might be able to use.

Duncan and I spent some time talking on the roof of the fort last night. Perhaps the most flattering thing about these chats for me is that he is genuinely interested in what I think about the direction of our tiny outpost. Despite the kindness and even respect I feel from the other men of the Dunsany Star, I do not think most of them -- especially Mr. Tyler -- see me as an equal. Duncan seems comfortable using me as a sounding board, though, and I cannot help but feel a bit of pride when something we discuss comes up in larger discussions of the what to do next.

12 March 319

With the causeway serviceable and the paving underway, attention has turned towards making our conditions here a bit more livable. Aside from Mr. Fellows, who has quartered in his smithy, most of the residents of the island still live in the tiny space of the fort. While it is at least safe, it is also quite cramped, and tensions can sometimes flare when there are this many of us kept so close together.

Our next project, then, is to build some small homes, especially for the families here on the island. Though there is not much space to build, along with everything else we must be concerned with, there is space enough for a number of small homes, each sufficient for one family to live in relative comfort -- certainly better than crammed into the fort with dozens of others! The first such home will be for Mr. Cavendish and his wife, and progress has been swift. Clearing the hill on the island has given us plenty of stone to work with, which should provide a sturdy defense against any incursions by the monsters that surround us at night.

The Weatherbys, as well as another colonist couple, the Shackletons, have also begun work on their own dwellings, across the road from Mr. Fellows' smithy, right up next to the fort. Progress is not going quite as fast on those, but within a week they should all be able to move out of the fort and into proper homes. With more people moving out of the fort, construction of the wall around the island will also need to be stepped up; Duncan and Mr. Fellows have already begun planning how to extend it out from the fort in such a fashion to provide us the most living space without compromising our safety.

20 March 319

The last few days have been a flurry of activity, with the completion of the Cavendish, Weatherby, and Shackleton homes; it was quite the event for the women of the camp, who did most of the work to help them out of the fort and into their new homes. With the help of Mr. Shackleton, who is a carpenter, we built the three families each some simple furniture, including beds, and I and a number of the other women spent two days sewing and stuffing mattresses for them. When we finally helped the families into their new homes, I could see that they were all greatly relieved to be out of the cramped quarters of the fort. The housewarming activities gave all of us here on the island a nice distraction from the everyday toil that makes up our daily lives.

24 March 319

Now that the island is shaping up to be a bustling little village instead of simply an isolate fort, it is beginning to feel more like home than ever. This only adds to the distress I feel each night, however, when we can see all manner of creatures lurking at the edges of the settlement. Each day, however, progress continues on the walls around the village, which will hopefully end that threat once and for all.

The walls now secure most of the southern and eastern shoreline, extending towards the beach where we still keep our signal fire lit and around our garden, which is now planted with some wild grains Mr. Tyler helped us gather.

27 March 319

With the walls continuing their progress around the island and more buildings outside the fort planned for construction, Duncan has decided it is safe enough to begin bringing more of the colonists from their camp to the island. Mr. Tyler has already begun preparing an expedition to bring as many more of them as possible here in one go. He thinks he may be able to bring all of them here in one trip, but I am concerned that the fort would be rather cramped accommodating more than fifty people! Still, considering the conditions it seems that they face, I hate to leave them out there in the cold. Duncan assures me that the work of extending the walls will go much faster with more hands, though, and I cannot disagree; once the wall is up, we can begin building more homes to give everyone a bit more space.

Building the gates for the walls has been quite a task. Most of the wall was finished in day, but the actual gate mechanism, which has been the task of Duncan and Mr. Fellows for the most part, has been more difficult. Mr. Shackleton has fashioned a sturdy portcullis from thick oak timbers, but Mr. Fellows has been having trouble constructing a proper chain to haul its weight up and down. For now, a temporary solution has been worked out by using spider-silk ropes to lash the gate up; should the situation warrant, we can cut the ropes and the gate will fall into place, blocking the gate.

30 March 319

Mr. Tyler and a half dozen other men left for the colonist camp today, while the rest of us continued to work on the walls and buildings of the camp. One of the colonists, Mr. Teasdale, and his wife suggested that a guesthouse would be an excellent next construction here, as it would provide more living space in a smaller area than houses could fit. Evidently his brother runs a similar business in Westabbey, and he was familiar with the layout and method of construction, having helped his brother with it.

He even suggested that it could even have baths, which I must admit seem rather decadent at the moment. Bathing in the waters of the bay here is a bit uncomfortable at times, and privacy is quite nonexistent! A warm bath in water not filled with all manner of fishes would be a welcome change. Duncan agreed to his suggestion, though he pointed out that the guesthouse would not be much of a business for now, as we do not exactly have much in the way of money. Mr. Teasdale assured us that it would simply be more housing for now, and Duncan assured him that if the situation changed he would be more than welcome to run it as a business. With that decided, he and some others have already begun laying the foundation, so that it will be ready as soon as possible after Mr. Tyler's return.

2 April 319

It seems as if the Teasdales' guesthouse has captured the attention of the camp, and for the past few days, most of the work around camp has been geared towards helping them get the work started. A great deal of lumber has been collected for the construction, while others have been building laying in the walls. By yesterday, most of the floor had been laid in, and today, the floor had been largely finished and the walls were beginning to be built up. At this pace, it may be finished in just a few weeks.

7 April 319

Mr. Tyler's party has returned, bringing with him the rest of the colonists from their camp, along with a great deal of supplies from their shipwreck. Most of the new arrivals look to be in decent health, and Mr. Tyler told Duncan that they had held out quite well, building a palisade around some makeshift houses and tents they were using for shelter. I was happy to hear that they had been able to avoid the worst of this land's many terrors, but it also sounds like they were beginning to run low on food and other vital supplies, so it is probably for the best that Mr. Tyler brought them back when he did.

For now, most of them have taken residence in those same makeshift tents in the courtyard of the fort or elsewhere on the island, inside what exists of the walls. Many of the men who arrived with Mr. Tyler have already begun to help with the guesthouse and other construction projects, while most of the women and children are taking a well-deserved rest.

Duncan and I have not had much time together lately -- both of us have been so busy lately. When we aren't busy, we are both so tired from the events of the day that it is hard for either of us to have a conversation without one of us falling asleep! With the guesthouse and walls coming along nicely, hopefully we'll soon have more time to spend together, but already I can tell he is worried about what we will all do once mere survival is no longer the one goal everyone is focused on.

17 April 319

With the extra help of the new arrivals, the guesthouse has been finished and the village walls are nearing completion finally. Mrs. Teasdale gave me a short tour of the guesthouse today and I could not help but be impressed.

Compared to the small homes that were built for the other families so far, the guesthouse is considerably larger and better appointed, with wood in place of cobblestone for the floors and much larger windows. She showed me the baths, which are already a hot topic of conversation around the village; everyone is looking forward to the opportunity for a hot bath for the first time in many months.

Right across the hall from the baths is the kitchen; Mrs. Teasdale proudly displayed the larder, which should be able to hold much more food than we can fit in the makeshift storage in the fort. I am sure that Mr. Tyler's hunting parties will be able to keep it nicely stocked if they continue to be as successful as they have been.

On the second floor of the guesthouse, the central area of the floor is dominated by a large fireplace and sitting room, with a pair of large tables; I suspect it will become a popular place for people to take meals.

The second floor also has five guest rooms, which have already been parceled out to colonist families. While not large, they provide a bed and plenty of comfort compared to the cramped quarters of the fort. I admit to being a bit jealous, as I would like to have a bit more privacy than I have right now, but I understand why Duncan decided it would be best for families to take them.

Above the second floor is the attic, which, while a bit cramped and not divided into rooms, Mrs. Teasdale plans to put beds in as well, just to provide more living space. I suspect when they are finished they will be similar to the quarters in the fort, which would at least be an upgrade for those colonists still sleeping in tents.

The whole experience made me a bit homesick; it was the first place, here on the island, hundreds of miles away from home, where it almost feels like it could almost be in Knightsport. I could not help but long for a slice of mother's apple pie or a night spent in front of the fireplace catching up with friends. Someday, I hope to have such things again, and perhaps share them with Duncan -- but for now, it seems so far off, I cannot help but feel a bit of despair.

23 April 319

Everyone has pulled together over the last week and finished the walls and the north gate; Duncan and Mr. Fellows have still not been able to work out a usable mechanism to manipulate the portcullis, so the north gate remains lashed up like the west gate, but it has given us a great deal more security than we enjoyed before. Plans are already being made for the last few houses we'll be able to fit inside the walls, and by the summer, we will need to think about where to expand to for new construction.

Again, it feels like the spectre of "what comes next" is drawing closer and closer. Soon, we will be able to begin thinking more than a few days ahead -- and I fear the divisiveness that existed among the survivors of the Dunsany Star in those early days after our shipwreck, many months ago, will return. I have told Duncan that I think we should find some way of making contact with home, or at the very least the Oestrian colonies, and he agrees, though making a boat to sail safely hundreds of miles would be a major undertaking -- and there's no assurance that it would succeed. As cramped as things are, there are only a little over sixty of us, and a third of those are women and children.

I know Duncan is thinking of these things, and I trust his judgement, but I cannot help but worry for the future. All the while, we still need to remember that there are hostile creatures lurking right outside the gates who will try to kill every one of us if they get the chance. Still, nights like these, when we can celebrate our accomplishments, and when I feel Duncan's arms around me as we look over the quiet village from the top of the fort, I can take some comfort that whatever happens we will not be confronting alone.

]]> The Fort Upton Minecraft Server tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2010:/blog//1.180 2010-12-07T01:31:11Z 2010-12-07T04:13:02Z

So I've been working at this a while for now and I'm realizing that there's a little something missing from the experience -- I really want to be able to find stuff other people have built, and do a bit...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog

Before I plunk down 30 bucks a month for a hosted server, though, I wanted to test it out and get the hang of it, so I set up a server on my Linux box here at home just to get the hang of server configuration. It was pretty easy to get up and running, and get the new world in place. The Minecraft community has been very good at providing tools to simplify running a server and performing regular maintenance. In a couple of hours today I've managed to get the basic server, plus a few mods and some backup and mapping scripts all set up and ready to go. It even seems to run okay on my machine, though my max user population so far has been a whopping three.

However, with this up and running, it seems good enough for a small user base and it really costs me nothing, so I'm going to test it out and see how this goes. I'd like to get other people involved in the server, but I need to set up some guidelines first. I don't want to see the world turned into something that doesn't make much sense from a story point of view. Once I write those up, though, I'll be happy to let some people jump in and start adding their own stuff to the server (though on a limited basis at the moment, due to system constraints).

Just for reference, the server is currently set up with the default server plus the Hey0 Mod. Users who just wander in off the street are restricted and can't build anything, but you should be able to wander around and check things out at least. If you want to be added as a builder, get in touch with me by sending me email or leaving a comment on the blog (make sure you tell me your Minecraft username) and I'll take care of it. I'll be putting a webpage up soon to list the guidelines and the IP (which may change on the whim of Comcast for now). If you'd like to try it out before I get that up, let me know and I'll try to get it to you before then.

I still have some more updates to write up and post, and I'll get to that this week.

Edit: I've added a (very basic) HTML page about the server at http://www.wraithwerks.net/minecraft. Let me know if you have any questions, or things you think should be added.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 4 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2010:/blog//1.179 2010-11-28T20:15:26Z 2010-11-28T20:15:30Z

8 February 319With the fort finished, the next step is to begin clearing the rest of the island so that we can cultivate some of the land and build homes. With thirty or so people here now, many are forced...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 8 February 319

With the fort finished, the next step is to begin clearing the rest of the island so that we can cultivate some of the land and build homes. With thirty or so people here now, many are forced to sleep on the floors of the keep, or in tents pitched inside the courtyard. Mr. Grayson also wants to build a proper forge and workshop for Mr. Fellows, and a causeway to keep our parties from having to wade through the ford to the north.

I went out to bring food to the men quarrying stone today and was rewarded with a spectacular view of the fort in the distance. It will be difficult work; I can already tell that many of the men who arrived in last night's ordeal are not fond of being set to breaking stone all day. However, Mr. Grayson makes sure no one is overworked; he is proving to be a fine leader, and we are lucky to have him. And yet, talking to him, he seems to think Captain Upton would have done a better job. Myself, I cannot imagine how -- in a few months we have gone from a collection of tents on the beach to a sturdy fort, with few lost in a hostile land.

10 February 319

Mr. Fellows and a few other men finished the small workshop in the fort today and put a fence around the small animal pen, and already captured one of the wild pigs that roams the island. Some of the men have gone to find more, so that we can have a pig roast to celebrate the final completion of the fort. Mr. Tyler has taken the lead of our hunting parties and patrols, and seems much more comfortable in that role; his squabbles with Mr. Grayson seem to have ended entirely, and I can tell his chest swells with a bit of pride every time one of the new arrivals thanks him for helping them get here.

I find myself growing restless, and I would like to try venturing out with the next group to travel to the colonist camp, if only to see more than our small island and its environs. Mr. Grayson has told me quite plainly that it is not safe though, and he will not allow me to put myself in danger, especially since I am the closest thing we have to a doctor at the moment. I can't disagree with his logic, but it does chafe a bit.

13 February 319

As I write this, we are preparing to sit down to a dinner of roast pork and wild vegetables, a luxurious dinner that is a rare occurrence here on the island. Mr. Grayson has christened the fort in honor of the Dunsany Star's lost captain, Captain Upton. Though I did not know the captain well, if Mr. Grayson's character and opinion is anything to go by, he was certainly deserving of the honor.

Since the last group of colonists arrived, there have been few sightings any of the undead or other monsters that plagued us before; I suspect the fact that we can't be reached has crept into even their diminished capability for thought. the respite has been welcome, but neither Mr. Grayson nor Mr. Tyler seem to think this will last.

15 February 319

Mr. Grayson took me to the beach today to teach me how to fish. Though we only caught one fish, some sort of bass I believe, it was a relaxing few hours and I enjoyed spending the time with him. We talked a great deal about the future of our tiny outpost, and about the future of ourselves personally; he confessed that he is quite smitten with me, and that he would very much like to spend more time with me personally, when the pace of activity here allows.

I must confess that I was not sure what to say; part of me wonders if it is only because I am one of the few unmarried women here on the island that Mr. Grayson has turned his attentions to me. I cannot help but be flattered though, and I must admit that I am impressed by his character. I suspect even my mother, as much as she looks down upon sailors, would be impressed by him. In the end, I told him that I would need some time to think on the matter, and he promised to respect my decision.

18 February 319

Today, the men began work to wall in the cave which was the source of many of the monsters which plagued us in those early days; I was on hand in case there was any trouble and my medical expertise became necessary. We were able to wall in much of it during the morning, before a giant spider scuttled from the depths of the cave and attacked one of the men. Luckily, Mr. Tyler and Mr. Parsons dispatched it quickly. Once the cave is capped, Mr. Grayson says we will build a small shelter on top of it, and use that to dig down later and explore the cave system for more iron and other metal ores, which were fine ourselves growing short of.

Speaking of Mr. Grayson, I have agreed to his request to court me. Despite the fact that he was clearly exhausted from the day's toil when I spoke to him, I could see a bit of a smile cross his face and told me to call him Duncan from now on. Sadly, we had little time to talk further, considering his exhaustion and my own duties helping to cook the evening meal, but we have promised to make some time for each other in the coming days if at all possible.

22 February 319

We've finished most of the work to level the island now, and work has begun in earnest on three different projects. Mr. Fellows is leading a group to build a small smithy for him to work in just outside the fort, letting others use the workshop in the fort for building furniture and other projects. Another group of men is working on laying roads from the fort to where we will be constructing the causeway over the ford, and yet another is building the small but sturdy shack we will be putting over the entrance to the cave.

The shack over the cave is being constructed largely of stone, by several massive panes of glass have been fired from the sand of the beach to make a number of large glass windows, thick enough to hold strong against the zombies' inept attacks. Once a stairwell or ladder is built to go down into the cave, this will keep any undead that get up into the shack from lasting more than a day, and we'll be able to see any creepers that get in with fair warning.

Progress on the shack and the road has gone fairly quickly; leveling the island involved quarrying a great deal of stone, especially where the hill once stood, so it was not hard to find suitable stones to fill them. The smithy goes a bit slower, but that is mostly because it has been deemed a lower priority, so that we can begin work on the causeway and bring the rest of the colonists back to the island, where they will be safer. Mr. Tyler is preparing to lead another group of men back to the colonists' camp and bring more of them back here already, since it has been nearly two weeks since we last sent word to them.

Privacy is in short supply, with as closely packed as we are here at the fort; Duncan and I have had little time to talk together, with him busy during the day and everyone clustered together in the evenings. Our courtship, so far, has consisted of a few shared meals and short talks about what we did before we came to the island. Evidently, before he joined the crew of the Dunsany Star, he was an engineer's apprentice with army, which explains his skill at designing fortifications, I suppose. He is also much better read than I would have expected from a sailor; few others here, I suspect, have read the works of Argus or Roland of St. Yves. While I still find myself surprised at his interest in me at times, I find myself growing more and more comfortable simply spending time with him.

28 February 319

I spent much of today helping Mr. Fellows get situated in his new smithy, which Duncan and a few of the other men put the finishing touches on today, laying down wooden planks for the roof. The workspace is more than adequate for his needs, and according to him the forge in the new building should be able to burn much hotter than the small ovens we had in the fort. This will give us stronger iron to make tools from, which will hopefully speed up the work to build more houses, lay the causeway to the mainland, and eventually extend the walls of the fort out to encompass the whole island, giving us plenty of safe and sheltered land to construct our growing village on.

Duncan has set aside a small plot of land for me and some of the other women to begin cultivating vegetables and some of the grains the colonists brought seeds for. It is a bit of a mess at the moment, overgrown and gnarled with brambles, but with some work I think it will be quite suitable, at least for supplementing the animals, both hunted and kept, and gathered wild plants that make up most of our current diet.

5 March 319

Now that the smithy is up and running, most of the work has shifted towards the causeway to the mainland. Though the ford is mostly rather shallow already, the first stage of the work has been using sand to build up a base to build on. Once that is there, the men will begin packing dirt on top of the sand, and finally put down the layer of cobblestone that will actually make up the causeway.

After spending several days clearing out the land were we plan to have our small garden, a number of the men helped us make a crude fence around it to keep out the animals, which would otherwise trample and eat our work. Duncan has also taken two small teams of men to begin extending the walls of the fort; progress on these walls is slow, but for now the intent seems to be getting the foundations in, so that we can begin planning where to place houses and other buildings within the walls.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 3 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2010:/blog//1.178 2010-11-19T00:00:00Z 2010-12-07T02:40:46Z

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 8 January 319

I write this tonight from the second floor of the keep, under the stars but fully ensconced within its walls. All nine of us are sleeping within the keep for the first time tonight, thanks to the safety it now provides. Mr. Yancy, who is able to hobble a bit now using a makeshift cane, is sleeping without the comfort of his crude bed, but as the undead and creepers become more and more bold, it is better to be here than in the cabin.

Tomorrow, Mr. Tyler and two of the other men are heading north on what they have told Mr. Grayson will only be a three day journey to scout out the territory. The good progress we have made on the keep has made this a much less concerning development than it would have been a few weeks ago, and to be quite honest it would do us good to know more about what was around us. It would be rather silly if civilization lay less than a day's travel away and we simply hadn't found it. It seems an unlikely possibility, considering Mr. Grayson's estimate of our location from the stars and sun, but it would not be unheard of for there to be Oestrian colonists who have struck out on their own, far afield from the ports of Undine and Sailor's Rest. If nothing else, Mr. Tyler is an able hunter, and should be able to bring back enough meat for a hearty celebratory dinner.

9 January 319

It appears that we abandoned the hill just in time; last night, Mr. Fellows, who had been on watch from the tops of the unfinished keep, spotted a creeper atop the hill. After inspecting the hill in the morning, we could see where the creatures has managed to finally pull down the embankment along the hill, giving them a clear path to the top. We have been remiss about building the hill back up every morning, and it appears that laziness has cost us the cabin as a safe place. Though hardly a critical problem now that we have the keep, it has made up more careful.

Mr. Tyler has put off his departure for a day, having finished collecting supplies and packing too late after helping to shore up the embankments around the keep (in order to prevent the creatures from repeating their trick). He has assured us all that he will be leaving at first light, however.

11 January 319

Our work continues even with fewer people, though several of the men spent much of the morning hunting for tonight's dinner. Work on the walls of the fort, which will surround the courtyard and keep, has begun. Mr. Grayson plans to make them almost ten feet thick, though it will take a considerable while to build them up, I suspect. I have helped as much as I can, mostly laying mortar between the heavy stones that the men are using the build the outer shell of the wall; inside, we will use the earth that we have been gathering as we work to level the land around the fort, including the hill atop which the cabin sits.

12 January 319

We awoke with a start early this morning to a loud explosion, as one of the creepers atop the hill attacked one of the tents which still stand atop it. It destroyed the side of the hill and the tent, which is now torn to shreds. Thankfully, nothing else was hurt -- and there was no one in the tent or the cabin, which appears to have also been slightly damaged by the blast.

The biggest concern is that the hilltop now comes dangerously close to the tops of the fort's walls; Mr. Fellows worries that they may be able to jump onto the wall from the hill, or at the very least, skeletons could shoot down onto it. We had already planned to take down the hill, in order to make the land outside the fort level and suitable for cultivation, but it appears we may need to do that sooner rather than later.

Mr. Tyler should return tomorrow; with he and his men added back to our number, hopefully we can finish the first part of the wall soon and then begin to clear the hill.

13 January 319

Mr. Tyler did not return today; I admit to being concerned, but Mr. Grayson tells me not to worry. Expecting a tight timetable when Mr. Tyler is wandering unknown territory populated by all manner of hostile creatures does seem somewhat unreasonable, I suppose, but it is that very aspect of his trip that makes any delay cause me worry.

15 January 319

Another long day working on the walls of the fort was momentarily broken up today by the return of Mr. Tyler -- and though his news is not as good as I might have hoped, it was far better than I expected. Not only did he return safely, he brought with him two men and two women, colonists who had been aboard the ship we spotted before the new year!

It seems that Mr. Tyler found their ship wrecked upon the beach two days journey up the coast, surrounded by the same sort of makeshift tents and shelters we constructed in our early days here. Their ship had been battered by a storm similar to ours, but it having been a larger vessel it did not sustain quite as much damage and managed to limp to the shore, where they ran aground to keep the ship from sinking. They managed to rescue most of their supplies, and it seems that so far they have managed to remain unmolested by the undead and other monsters.

Mr. Thomas Weatherby and Mr. Charles Cavendish and their wives accompanied Mr. Tyler back to our camp with some of their supplies -- metal and leatherworking tools, as well as food and other consumables. Mr. Francis and Mr. Parsons, who had gone with Mr. Tyler from our camp, chose to stay behind at the shipwreck camp for now to help them organize caravans to our island, which Mr. Tyler convinced the leader of the shipwreck camp, Captain Nichols, would be a more defensible location.

I am not sure what brought Mr. Tyler around to see our island as preferable to more exploration, but it is nice to see that he is being reasonable about it. According to Mr. Weatherby, there are 54 colonists back at the shipwreck camp. For myself, the most encouraging word was that many of them were women and children; I admit that it has been an odd experience not seeing another woman for nearly three months now! It is a tribute to Mr. Grayson's leadership that I have been treated so well in this camp for so long.

17 January 319

Mr. Tyler and Mr. Weatherby left this morning for the shipwreck camp to reassure the rest of the colonists that our intentions are as we claim, and to help lead more of them this way. Mr. Cavendish has stayed behind to help with our construction and keep watch over his wife and Mrs. Weatherby, both of whom remain a bit skittish about being with the men here. I suspect that they think me some sort of harlot to seem so comfortable among them, but despite my reassurances that I have been treated very well. Still, they look at me funny when I assist with the tasks around the fort; though they have no problem helping dress and cook wild pig and cattle, I do not think they find mortarwork or digging to be very ladylike. For me, the last seven weeks have convinced me that there is little room for such luxury here, at least for now.

We have finished much of wall around the keep, and most of the foundations are in for the wall around the courtyard; much work remains in filling the stone shell with earth and constructing the battlement, but soon we should have a fortified courtyard that should provide shelter for more of the colonists.

19 January 319

Today we began to fill in the walls of the fort with earth. While much of the wall remains unfinished, constructing the battlement will give us a little more space and make it easier to keep an eye out on the surrounding land.

20 January 319

Much concern among the other women tonight, as the unfinished fort has been invaded by the undead; skeletons and zombies walk about the courtyard, though they still cannot get into the keep, thankfully. Even so, I must admit to being a bit unsettled despite the fact that I trust the keep's walls and should be used to the groans of the zombies outside by now. I look forward to the day when those things will be driven from the island completely.

21 January 319

Mr. Tyler returned today with a dozen more colonists, all of them men and boys. Mr. Fellows and Mr. Cavendish have been hard at work making tools the past few days, to get ready for the influx of new people. With nearly double the number of people to work on the fort now, we should make much better progress.

22 January 319

While work continues on the fort, much work has been put into excavating away at the hill as well. Unfortunately, this has created some small caves under the hill where monsters seem to conglomerate during the night, and hide in the mornings.

While this has created a problem for the men working to clear the land, Mr. Grayson and the others have become quite adept at getting rid of the creepers, which remain the most dangerous of the creatures. Furthermore, they have been able to unearth a fair bit of iron ore within the mountain, considerably more than I would expect from the local geology. Mr. Fellows plans to use it to construct better tools for the men, but there is still too little to replace them all, so stone tools -- albeit better and better ones all the time -- still remain the rule of the day.

2 February 319

We have made a great deal of progress on the fort over the last two weeks, finishing off the third floor of the keep and much of the outer wall, complete with a portcullis, which should keep the monsters out and make more room for our growing population to live temporarily, as the keep was getting rather cramped with as many people as we have now. There have been few new arrivals from the colonist camp since my last entry, but contact is kept by Mr. Tyler and others as they travel back and forth. The trip is getting more dangerous, but from what gather the colonists are doing what they can to fortify their small village as well, so hopefully they will hold out as well as we did before the fort was serviceable.

Mr. Fellows is making plans to build a small workshop in the courtyard of the fort soon, along with a small pen for animals, which will let us move a lot of the equipment being used for construction and excavation out of the first level of the keep, making room for a small common area and kitchen. The prospect of sitting down for a proper meal again, instead of devouring chunks of roast pork like animals, is a comforting one, but for now, there is naught but a few tents in the courtyard to provide additional shelter.

4 February 319

With the fort basically finished now, things are getting much more calm -- almost normal, if one can call it that. At night we can simply close the portcullis if necessary, and a few men walk the battlements to keep an eye on the creatures outside. The slope of the berm the fort sits on is sufficient to keep most of the creatures from even getting close enough to the walls to pose a danger, but I doubt even a creeper explosion could break through the walls of the fort. I can even stroll through the courtyard, or visit with Mr. Grayson on the battlements in the evenings or early mornings without fearing for my life -- something I have not been able to do since we crashed upon this island, more than two months ago.

This morning, I woke up before sunrise and joined Mr. Grayson on the battlements, where I was treated to the sight of the moon setting over the top of the now-finished keep of the fort. It was quite a sight, and hard to believe that just a few months ago I was watching the same moon set over the steeples and towers of Knightsport.

7 February 319

A handful of new arrivals from the colonist village arrived today with Mr. Parsons, but only by the skin of their teeth. The alarm went up early this morning, as the two men on watch spotted Mr. Parsons and the rest of his group coming across the water to the north, pursued by a large swarm of monsters. Mr. Grayson and several of the men grabbed axes and picks and ran to meet them, helping to haul their gear off the rafts we have been using to cross the water. Much of it had to be left behind as the monsters drew closer, however, and they made a dash for the safety of the fort.

I joined the rest of the men on the battlement and helped to shut the portcullis as they ran though, keeping the horde of undead from following them into the safety of the fort. Though a good deal of their supplies had been lost, thankfully no one had been hurt, and we stood watch until morning, when much of the waiting horde clawing at the walls burst into flames in a spectacular and rather grisly display.

When we were sure that we were safe from the marauding hordes outside, Mr. Parsons told us they had made slower progress than expected on their way to the fort, and had been caught out when the sun went down. Knowing they were close, they tried to make it to the ford in time, but fell short, and when night fell they were surrounded by the creeping horde. Thankfully, they are not nearly as quick across the water, even compared to the slow raft.

For now, Mr. Grayson thinks we should limit the travel between our island and the colonist village, just to be safe. While that seems prudent, I suppose, I know the colonists are not in as secure a position as we, and it seems wrong to leave them where they are without such safety as we have.

]]> The Log of Amelia Primrose: Part 2 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2010:/blog//1.177 2010-11-16T00:41:31Z 2010-12-07T02:41:28Z

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog 5 December 318

We have spent most of today chopping down trees from around the hill our cabin sits on so that we can make more picks and shovels. Tomorrow we will begin grading the hill we sit on; Mr. Grayson and Mr. Fellows think this is the first step in making us safer. By leveling the land around the hill, and making the hill steeper, it should be much more difficult for spiders, these "creepers" as Mr. Grayson calls the green creatures, and whatever else is out there to get up to our cabin.

I have been trying to help, but it is backbreaking physical labor and I can't keep up with the men here. They try not let it show, but I can tell they get frustrated when I drop my end of one of the heavy logs, or simply can't keep up with the digging. But we all need to pitch in, and I can't simply sit by and let them work while I do nothing.

9 December 318

There's been no sign of the creatures from the other night since we started working on the hill, for which I have been very grateful. I have taken to collecting eggs from the wild chickens on the island, dressing and cooking the wild boars Mr. Tyler has been hunting, and other more domestic duties, since it seems that our situation might not be as precarious as we feared. We've finished with the makeshift fortifications Mr. Grayson and Mr. Fellows came up with, which will hopefully protect us while we try to figure out our next move.

It is the most primitive of fortifications, but it is steep enough that it would be extremely difficult for a man or beast to climb atop it without using the shallower staircase that we built into the front of the hill. Walls around it should keep them from climbing it, and at night we plan to block it off with an earthen barrier. With the food and water here we should be able to last quite a while should we be besieged again.

10 December 318

It appears that we finished our work just in time; last night, the creatures came again, though not in great number; this time, I know I spotted at least one skeletal archer among their number.

While most appeared to stay further away from the hill, Mr. Grayson told me this morning that last night they found one of the walking dead clawing at the side of our hill, trying to climb up the steep embankment. Thankfully, it was unable to gain purchase, and Mr. Fellows was able to stand on the terrace above it and lop off its head with a single blow from one of our makeshift axes, sending the putrid mass of rotting flesh tumbling to the ground.

If the accounts of the Great Crusade are correct, then the undead have never been particularly innovative, and their vulnerability to the cleansing light of the sun puts them at a great disadvantage to us. Nor do these spiders or creepers seem any more intelligent, which means they are not likely to be able to build ladders or other tools to try and climb our hill. The biggest danger would seem to be the skeletons that are clearly the dead from some long-forgotten battlefield, who can still make use of weapons they once used in life. They should only be a danger at night.

12 December 318

This morning I woke up early, even before the sun had come up, and from outside the cabin I could hear a great clattering, like a pile of metal and wood being rolled a long a stone road, punctuated by the occasional low groan. Mr. Grayson and Mr. Yancy stood near the edge of the hill, and as I emerged from the cabin, I saw them crouching low, looking down towards the base of the hill. As I approached, Mr. Grayson made a motion to me to crouch low as they did, and when I got close I could see why.

Below us, a half dozen skeletons and zombies clawed at the side of the hill, trying to get to our cabin. I barely poked my head up to look when an arrow sailed over my head and embedded itself in the wall of the cabin, and Mr. Yancy pulled me down to the ground just in time to avoid another. I cursed myself for my stupidity, but on a second later we were all startled by the ungodly screams of the creatures, as the morning sun rose above the horizon. Bathed in its light, they all caught flame, and for several minutes we were forced to listen as they were burned to cinders.

It was a frightening sight; despite my relief at seeing the monsters who had our small hill under siege burn, watching a flaming skeleton claw its way up the hill, or hearing the unearthly groans of pain from the zombies as their flesh was literally seared off their bones was quite more than I could take. I retreated back to the cabin while the two men sat watch to make sure none of the creatures escaped. As I did, there was a powerful explosion that shook the very ground I stood on, and sent me tumbling. Behind me, I could hear Mr. Yancy shout in alarm.

I looked back to see Mr. Grayson pulling the other man up the side of the hill; he had apparently slipped and fallen to the lower terrace. He looked bloodied and burnt, and his left leg seemed twisted and limp. I ran to help as the other men emerged from their tents as well, awoken by the explosion.

As I helped Mr. Grayson lay Mr. Yancy upon the ground carefully, I looked to the side of the hill to see what had happened. A great crater had formed in the ground at the side of the hill, many feet deep. Dirt and rock had been thrown several feet in every direction, much of it spattered against the side of the hill. As we tended to Mr. Yancy's wounds, Mr. Grayson asked him what had happened. Though in great pain, he managed to tell us that he had fallen next to the edge of the hill, only to find himself looking straight at one of the green creepers. The next thing he knew, the creature had exploded, like a living bomb, causing the devastation we saw next to the hill.

Mr. Grayson left me to tend to Mr. Yancy while he went to confer with the others; clearly, this was a new cause for concern. If these creatures could cause such damage -- like the works of a master wizard or alchemist -- then our simple hilltop cabin would not likely be enough to keep us safe, not for the long term.

15 December 318

Tempers are beginning to flare among the men here at the camp. While we have not been attacked again since Mr. Yancy's unfortunate incident, we can still see the creatures walking about outside every night. Mr. Tyler and three of the other men seem to want to try moving elsewhere, perhaps to the north, where we might be able to find a more defensible position, while Mr. Grayson has convinced the others that we should try and build some sort of stronger fortification here on this island.

Myself, I am torn; I feel like we are trapped here, but the thought of trying to journey northward in the hope of finding something better seems much like a pipe dream at this point. I do not like the prospect of being stuck at night in the middle of unknown territory with swarms of undead all around us, nothing more than a campfire and some crude stone weapons keeping them at bay. On the other hand, building a real fortification will be difficult with as few people as we have, when each night we must retreat to the safety of the hill and hope that our work for the last day is not destroyed.

We cannot go anywhere until Mr. Yancy has recovered though, and his recovery may take quite some time. His left leg was badly broken in the explosion, and while his burns were not as bad as I thought at first, they could become much worse if I am not careful. I have been using the last bits of sailcloth, washed carefully in boiling water, to bandage them, but I fear if another man suffers similar injuries I may not be able to attend to them as well.

18 December 318

Mr. Grayson appears to have won over most of the other men, especially as we have fallen under siege again. While the morning light keeps us safe from the zombies and skeletons that surround the hill in the night hours, the creepers still surround us in the morning, and there is at least one or two explosions every night, usually not far from the base of the hill. I am not sure if it is a random accident, or if they are intentionally trying to undermine our makeshift fortifications. The men spend the better part of the morning trying to fend them off so that we can begin working on the next step of our construction.

Some of the craters we fill in, simply to make the ground less treacherous and reduce places for the monsters to hide, but the number continues to increase, and spending time on building a new, better shelter seems like a better use of our limited time.

Mr. Yancy continues to mend, but with his broken leg it will be several weeks before he can do much more than watch as the other men work. Today he began trying to fashion arrows from the flint we have found around the island, with feathers from the wild chickens we have been eating. Perhaps with a few bows and some arrows, the creepers will not be such a danger, as the men can attack them from a distance rather than risking the terrifying explosions up close. I am surprised that there have been no further victims like Mr. Yancy, but the men seem to have figured out how to bait the creepers into either blowing themselves up, or to attack and then run off before the creepers realize the extent of their wounds.

20 December 318

Mr. Grayson and the other men have managed to clear and level the land to the south of the hill, where they plan to build a small fort, where we will hopefully be much safer. Quarrying the stone will likely be the most difficult part, but Mr. Fellows has come up with an ingenious method of breaking into the rock that makes up much of the island, and will hopefully provide the stone we need to build walls and other defenses.

Mr. Fellows has figured out how to lure the creepers onto the rocky parts of the island, and then by baiting them into exploding, it shakes loose much more stone than we could break by hand with the stone picks we've built. This has allowed us to begin collecting stone constructing the foundations of what will become our new fort. We have only just started, and the work is quite dangerous, but already, the new task seems to have given the men a renewed sense of purpose, and even Mr. Tyler seems to think this is our best choice for now.

26 December 318

Our hope of rescue was briefly kindled today by the sight of a sail upon the horizon, nearly a month now since we were shipwrecked here. We quickly ran to stoke the signal fire we have kept burning on the beachfront, but as the ship grew closer, we could see it was listing very badly to the starboard side, and it continued to sail north. Mr. Grayson could not see the ship's insignia well enough to identify its origin, but hopefully they will make it to the Oestrian colonies and send back someone to find us.

The work on the fort continues to move along at a good pace, but the sighting of the ship seems to have made Mr. Tyler and the men who sided with him more interested in trying to journey northward again. If they leave, it will be nearly impossible for us to finish the fort; so much of our day seems to be spent on simply finding food, fending off the spiders and creepers that haunt the hillsides in the morning, and chopping wood for our fires, that we would be overwhelmed.

28 December 318

Mr. Grayson and Mr. Tyler had a shouting match today over our course of action. Mr. Tyler is insisting that he be allowed to scout northwards to see if he can find any other sign of civilization, and Mr. Grayson is unable to convince him otherwise. I am becoming more and more frightened that Mr. Tyler will leave, whether or not he can get agreement from Mr. Grayson. I can tell Mr. Grayson and the others are trying to get as much done on the fort as they can before things reach the breaking point.

On that front, at least, there is a promising amount of progress. The foundations for the fort have been finished and we have begun to work on the walls of the keep, though they are not nearly high enough to provide protection at night yet. During the night, we still creep back to the top of the hill and wait out the monsters that surround us.

3 January 319

Two days ago was the new year, but there were no celebrations here; we were too busy working, trying to finish building the base of our fort. Mr. Tyler has been growing more and more agitated, but today, we put the final stones in place for the walls of the keep and laid in the beams for the second floor, making a sturdy ceiling over our heads. It might not be much; certainly, it is not a castle like I would see back home, but it is much better than our current situation.

The inside is bare, but it has much more space than our cabin does now, even just with a first floor, and its stone walls should provide far more safety than our simple hill does now. The cabin feels increasingly unsafe, as we watch the creepers, spiders, and undead swarm around the base of the hill every night, and the cold stone walls of the keep are far more welcoming.

The completion of the fort seems to have calmed the nerves of Mr. Tyler as well; he still insists that we try looking to the north in hopes of rescue, but he seems content to merely grumble instead of engaging in shouting matches with Mr. Grayson. Mr. Grayson, for his part, seems to have compromised somewhat, telling Mr. Tyler that an expedition northwards is possible once we are fully settled.

]]> The Log Of Amelia Primrose: Part 1 tag:www.wraithwerks.net,2010:/blog//1.176 2010-11-07T18:13:12Z 2010-11-07T18:14:02Z

As a programming note, I've started off this Let's Play with Peaceful difficulty turned on, so that I can get some time to set up in a way that fits the story without getting mobbed by monsters (especially after the...

Chas Blackwell http://www.wraithwerks.net/blog As a programming note, I've started off this Let's Play with Peaceful difficulty turned on, so that I can get some time to set up in a way that fits the story without getting mobbed by monsters (especially after the latest update -- ack). Once I get to a certain point, it will be switched back to Normal.

27 November 318

I am still alive! After the last four days it is hard to believe, but somehow I survived, and with my journal intact even. I only hope that others from the ship were so lucky.

Not long after my last entry, a furious storm swept up the Dunsany Star, seemingly from out of nowhere. For three days, the crew fought bravely to keep her afloat, but despite the best efforts of Captain Upton and his men, the wind and raging seas took its toll. I spent most of the storm below decks, being tossed about like a bug in a schoolboy's cigar box, much of it in a constant state of nausea. Then, there was a crack of thunder and screams from above, barely heard over the raging wind and rain. Dr. Polton and I rushed abovedecks to find that lightning had struck the ship's mainmast, shattering the already stressed wood; fires flickered in the rigging and giant slivers of wood had embedded themselves around the deck and in several of the crew.

As the captain desperately tried to keep the ship afloat, Dr. Polton and I attended to the wounded, but on a deck pitching and rolling as badly as the Star was, there was little we could do. For what seemed like hours, we struggled to take some of the men down into the bowels of the ship, but on one of our trips up, a piece of debris must have hit Dr. Polton, and he collapsed with bloody wound on his head.

At the same time, there was a great crunching sound, and it felt as if the whole ship had been lifted fifty feet in the air and then dropped upon a rock. Lines snapped and the ship heaved on its side, pitching at least two men overboard. I saw the captain rush below as the rest of the crew struggled to keep the ship afloat, but it did not take long to realize whatever had happened had done some sort of irreparable damage. Another wave crashed against us and I swear I saw the boat buckle and twist, like it was made of paper. Huge deckplanks popped loose and flew overboard, and it felt as if the world were shaking itself apart around me.

I do not remember much after that, only that I awoke, here on this island, with bits of debris around me; one of which was my trunk, sealed tight against the elements! I could not believe the luck, and it is the only reason I am able to continue my writing here. The weather seemed to have cleared and the beach here is warm. I write this entry in the hope that someday, I will be able to show it to my grandchildren, or at the very least, to let some future explorer know that there was a survivor of the Dunsany Star.

28 November 318

I spent the last night in a small shelter I constructed from some planks and sail scraps I have found along the beach, and made a small fire to keep away the chill. The fire kept away the animals, but it did bring some welcome company; the ship's first mate, Duncan Grayson, who I did not spend much time with aboard ship, saw the fire and joined me.

The two of us took some time to take a look around the island we are on today; it isn't much, but there are a few more islands scattered to the south and west and another more substantial one to the north. Mr. Grayson says the hill on our island looks like a good place to build something a bit more permanent than my makeshift tent. Using some tools made from the debris, he and I have set to work felling trees to build a sturdier shelter.

30 November 318

I woke up early this morning, and saw the sun rising from over the island from the tent on the beach. The cabin is making progress, mostly due to Mr. Grayson's hard work. Today, two other members of the ship's crew found us, and they have been helping him clear the hill. I suspect that it will not be long before there are no trees left on this island!

We have been dining on a diet of the wild pigs that are found here on the island, which I have done my best to try and cook properly, but I must admit it would be nice to find more than a few wild onions or mushrooms to have with it. First things first, though; a shelter is a bit more important than trying to cultivate the land here.

Mr. Grayson and the two other crewmen, Mr. Yancy and Mr. Fellows, plan to light a larger signal fire on the beach tonight to hopefully draw in some of the other crew -- or perhaps a passing ship, though Mr. Grayson says he thinks we are at least a week's sail southwest of the Oestrian coast -- territory which is still barely explored, and where many ships have disappeared in the last few years. Once we can construct some basic navigation tools, we should be able to get a better idea of where we are. Until then, we will have to make do as best we can.

2 December 318

The cabin on the hill has been finished, and another four crewmen have found us, thanks to the signal fire. Many of them have told us of hearing strange noises at night in the forests nearby, and even found arrows embedded in the ground or in trees the next morning. I cannot help but wonder what the natives here are like; there are not many of us, and without the advantage of modern weaponry, we are rather vulnerable. Mr. Grayson assures me that we should be safe for now, especially as our small band grows, but still I worry.

A small cluster of tents has grown up around the cabin, makeshift shelters for the other men here. The cabin is small, with barely enough room for two people and our collected supplies. I helped Mr. Fellows, who was evidently a blacksmith before he became a sailor, build a small oven in the cabin, which has been a wonderful addition. Not only has the task of cooking meals been simplified, but it warms the cabin at night, and it will let us use the clay I have found around the island to make bricks for building other shelters, fireplaces, and other constructions where wood is not appropriate.

I have also managed to fashion a bed in the cabin for myself using collected sails and straw. Perhaps it is a bit indulgent, but a bit of luxury here, far from home, is a welcome comfort. I have told Mr. Grayson that all members of the crew should take turns for who gets to use the bed, but he insisted that I use it and stay in the cabin. Especially after the tales from the newest members of our group, he says, we cannot be too careful.

3 December 318

Two more men showed up today, bringing our community to an even ten; I must admit feeling a bit out of place among nine men, but so far they have acted courteously towards me and seem to appreciate that I do not mind getting my hands dirty helping them with construction and butchering animals that our hunting parties have caught. While it is not what I am accustomed to, I cannot help but feel like I have little choice, considering the circumstances.

We found a cave on the north side of the island today with a deep shaft inside; how far down it goes I am not sure, but it must be at least a hundred feet. Mr. Grayson took me to see it, as I have a bit of geological knowledge, but I am afraid I could not glean much from it, aside from seeing a coal deposit near the top we may be able to use as fuel for the oven.

However, as we turned to leave, we were stopped in our tracks by an inhuman growl echoing up from the shaft. I have never heard such a terrible noise; like a man moaning in pain mixed with the growl of an angry dog waiting to pounce. The four of us in the cave froze in our tracks, and the same noise echoed out again. Carefully, we crept out of the cave and made our way back to the camp, but Mr. Grayson has ordered two of the men to keep watch over the entrance from a small tent. If there is something within that cave, hopefully we will have enough warning to take shelter.

4 December 318

In the early hours of this morning, I was awoke by a bloodcurdling scream and shouting as Mr. Grayson and the other men burst through the door of the cabin, telling me to get away from the windows. I heard a loud hissing noise, so piercing I felt like it was making my teeth rattle, and I saw a strange, black leg -- like that of an insect -- clawing against the window of the cabin.

Mr. Grayson and Mr. Tyler, one of the men who had been at the cave tent, grabbed some of our tools from the supply chests and smashed whatever had been poking through the window viciously, eliciting another, higher-pitched hiss. I dared to poke my head up, to see what was there, to see a giant spider, with eight glowing, glistening eyes, trying to pull itself inside the cabin, and behind it, some sort of green monster with a barely human face -- a twisted version of a goblin or orc, perhaps. It had no arms, though, and seemed to snap at the tools as the men fought them off.

Eventually, they must have figured there was easier prey, and retreated after many wounds from shovels, picks, and axes. We all stayed in the cabin for at least an hour afterwards, out of fear they would return, while Mr. Tyler told us what had happened.

He had been asleep while Mr. Irwin, the other man at the tent, had been on watch, and had awoke to shouts and Mr. Irwin shaking him awake, babbling about monsters emerging from the cave and others swimming across the channel to the north. As he was regaining his bearings, Mr. Tyler said one of the giant spiders came up behind Mr. Irwin and grabbed him in its giant mandibles, dragging him off the edge of the hill. Mr. Tyler had grabbed one of the makeshift weapons at their camp and momentarily thought to go after him, before he saw all manner of creatures emerging from the cave. He ran back to warn us just in time, as our main camp was overrun with spiders, those green monsters, and worse -- the undead.

It seems the Inquisition was not as successful as it had thought, because he quite clearly described shambling zombies and rickety skeletons, clambering over the rocks and dirt of the hillside to come after him. If he is right -- that the cave, and presumably the island to our north, is infested with these creatures -- then we are in a great deal of trouble indeed. With only nine of us left, I do not know how we can hold out against hordes of these creatures. I only hope that Mr. Grayson can come up with a plan to protect us, or we shall soon join their number.

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