The Price

The Price

by Toby Hall Weingarten

Bring me your dead,

And they will live forever.

Bring me your poor, the impoverished, those who go without

And they will know riches yet undreamt of.

Every need fulfilled, every desire sated.

There shall be nothing that can't be had;

Nothing that could ever be wanted, forbidden.

Bring my your dead,

And they will live forever.

Bring me your weak, the powerless, those trampled upon

And they will be as the might of legends past.

Ancient mountains break, raging rivers turn.

The earth could crack like an eggshell,

All done swiftly, as if by command.

Bring me your dead,

And they will live forever.

Bring me your forgotten, the nameless, those passed by

And they will be known across the land.

Hearts will melt, minds will bend.

They speak the same name, in one voice

Never even caring, or knowing, just why.

Bring me your dead,

And they will live forever.

Bring me these poor, weak, forgotten souls,

Countless hordes that don't even matter,

And these dead shall stay dead.

Yet they can still be of use to me.

I gain much from the poor,

Using their work to further my own.

A great fortune awaits me.

I gather strength from the weak,

Growing my power, bit by bit.

A great force forms in me.

I take the names of the forgotten,

Adding them to my own.

A great future centers around me.

And these dead will merge, a part of me,

As I become wealthy, and powerful, and famous.

I will finally feel alive, if only for a second.

The hunger will return, the emptiness inside,

But I can wait, for I know I will feed again.

For you see, as a ghoul, I will 'live' forever.

Would you like to join me?

All you have to do

Is bring me your dead.

 

Being Afraid, Very Afraid

I don't readily get truly scared.  While I admit to be a little fearful at times, I am rarely truly terrified.  In the most extreme of moments, I am usually quite calm and reserved.  For instance, I have driven over a curvy mountain road, covered with over an inch of ice and snow, at night, with a Chevy Impala, on two separate occasions. (Actually, the first time may have been in an  Olds Alero, but that is beside the point.)  I was collected enough to make it through, without much worry, even though I had never really had driven in such bad conditions before.  I have been truly terrified, at least once.  I was about four or five years old, and we had gone to a great-aunt's house on Sunday afternoon, like we regularly did most of the year.  We would pick up a Sunday newspaper, and sometimes I would get a little gift or two.  During the fall, these gifts were usually bags of pawpaws picked from the tree in her yard or in the surrounding hillsides.  This day, though, she wanted to meet me in one of her back rooms to give me something.  When I went in through the door, something jumped out from behind a wall and startled me.  I quickly ran to get my mother to ask for help.  She went in before me, and I followed a few seconds later.  As soon as I went through the door, two somethings jumped out from behind the wall, with my mother nowhere to be seen.  I started yelling at the top of my lungs, calling for my mother.  After a few seconds, she and my great-aunt pulled off the masks they were wearing.  For some reason, my great-aunt thought it would be fun to show off the Long John Silver's pirate masks she had gotten for me by scaring me, and my mother had gone along with it.  [As an aside, Long John Silver's was, and still is, my most favorite fast-food restaurant.  For over a decade, it would be about the only place I would eat out at.]  When they showed me that they were just masks, I tried to show that  I was okay with everything,  but I wasn't.  One of the masks had a tiny trickle of spit on it that somewhat disgusted me.  I was also still very scared about the whole event.  My mother should never had put on that mask.  I didn't realize it at the time, but I was changed.  I used to be so outgoing, I would walk right up to complete strangers and ask them about what was going on.  After that time, I found it hard to talk to even people I had known for long periods of time.  How could I trust someone, if my own mother tried to sow mistrust by scaring me?  I would need to be around someone for weeks, or longer, sometimes before I would feel  comfortable enough to open up.  For me, if I could talk to you about anything, especially if it was soon after meeting, it was a sign of greatest regard.  I used to be so outgoing, but it would only peek its head out occasionally, when I felt the safest.  I had harbored the idea of becoming an entertainer/performer; I knew that a had some talents for it.  I still have some of those ambitions, even though most time for that has passed,save in my ongoing fascination in becoming a professional writer.  Still, I wonder what would have happened if I had never gotten so afraid.

Twilight for Dragons

I will try to keep the terms simple enough for those who are unfamiliar with Storyteller games.  As such, I will keep such things as rules and other background information behind the World of Darkness/Chronicles of Darkness to a bare minimum.  At the dawn of time, the Ministers of Creations mad dragons to fulfill a certain role.  These Primordial ones begat the Progeny of lesser dragons.  Unfortunately, dragons' role ultimately went to lesser creatures, namely humanity.  Over time, dragons began to fade, hiding away from the world, with few new ones being born.  However, they weren't gone; their souls were being Incarnated into human bodies, although bereft of many of their memories.  They still could access some, if not all, of their former selves.  With the act of Sublimation, they could briefly return subsume their human form into their souls, and return to their original Epitome true forms.  There would be six primary types:  winged drakes, limbless wurms, celestial l'ung, saurian orms, venomous basilisks, and even the vaguely humanoid sphinxes.  There are also familial sub-forms that weren't as common, and offered their own benefits and drawbacks.  There would be a risk though of losing the basic Dichotomy between their two sides; either a savage Ferocity leading to wanton destruction or a bewildering Perplexity where one would temporarily lose contact with their souls and be little more than human.  Far safer are the facets, mystical elemental powers that are fueled by the many-hued chroma, the energy of creation, that they can access through specially prepared chabocon gemstones.  Even with so few around, societies formed, based around a Primordial Paragon, whose philosphies a group would follow.  Such ideals as whether to lead openly or behind the scenes dominate, with the pursuit of the dragon current condition secondary.  While being in an Allegiance would offer much, it could lead to the feeling of askance against others, a mistrusting of sorts.  The few memories that remain detail a Primordial whose betrayal may have led to their current condition.  All that is known is its current name, Hydra. Now, its Hosts of mutated dragon hydrae seek the corruption and utter destruction of reality.  Yet none can be sure who is really safe and who is being false.  For untold time, only a few dragons would remember themselves enough to hatch and Incarnate in their current sojourn as  human to regain some of their former glory, but with each Convergence of mystical events, more remember.  With the recent total solar eclipse, large numbers now emerge to face the Twilight passing and try to beat it back, with humanity and even most other supernatural beings under the delusion that dragons don't exist anymore in reality, as few can face such wonders and remain conscious of it.  As a certain battle is coming, the question is being raised--What does it mean to be a dragon?

A Convergence of Dragons

During the late 1990's, when I needed to re-invent myself, a got into role-playing games.  Specifically, White Wolf's World of Darkness game lines.  There was something about their ascetic and technique that intrigued me, where other games had not.  While I never was able to join a group, per se, I still collected supplements whenever I could.  After about a year, I got a book that had a rules for creating dragon characters and I ran with it.  I knew that I could use the information provided to develop something that would work within the WOD universe.  It was just a flicker of an idea, but it began to grow.  In fact, I was almost ready to try out for the company in 2003, as a possible job, just before a flood hit.  Most of the collection was damaged so badly, but I managed to save it, in a fashion, for years until I was able to transfer the most pertinent information out of the books before finally getting rid of them.  Barely two months after the flood, while I was still trying to replace as many of the books as I could, White Wolf  announced that they would be ending all their current game lines and replacing them with an updated system.  This floored me.  Here I was, still recovering, and a possible dream of me was changing.  It would be another year before the new  games came out, but I initially liked what I saw. Much was similar, but many of the new rules made things easier.  It was also going to be easy to  develop my game along the same path.  The new games took longer to come out, but one came out (Mage:  the Awakening) that gave me the metaplot hook that I could found my game on.  Over the next few years, I would sporadically work on my dragons, adapting each new game line hook so mine would fit in seamlessly.  I would research books, both fiction and folklore, for anything new I could add.  Then, I finally started to actually write things down.  I created mechanics and rules, developed back stories, coined new terms, and drew icons and logos.  Everything was going great, but I was chicken.  I felt that something else could do better.  So, in 2007,  I began adapting one of the older game lines into the new universe, instead.  I thought that this might suit me better than trying something entirely new.   Even with only my memories and limited resources to go on, I started on a second game.  Since there was much less to adapt, things were going faster.  In only a few months, I felt that I had enough material to start writing.  This took up much of my free time, as I wrote almost nonstop.  When I finished the last page, in August 2008, I had an eerie feeling that something was up.  The next day, I found out that White Wolf would be coming out with a new game that would render mine moot.  After a respite, I would go back to my dragon game, develop some more, strengthen some weak points, but it wasn't the same.  White Wolf would soon change its business model, going to print-on-demand/digital download, meaning I would no longer be able to easily get their titles.  Then, they spun the actual book creation to a new company, Onyx Path Publishing, after a few corporate buy-outs.  Finally, they even started to publish new material for the original game lines, with the newer system renamed as Chronicles of Darkness, with one of their products using some terms similar to mine.  It overwhelmed me, knowing I was 'ahead of the game,' as it were. I still have my material, and it could still be adapted to both lines, but my heart really isn't into it as much.  Although it is still a favorite of mine, game design isn't something I am that passionate for.  Next week, I will go into the game for you, detailing the high points and see how other like my idea.

Recovering the Past, Part Two

Here is more of the poem from last week.  Just click the link, or scroll down. [I have since come up with a proposed title for this poem.  "Love-Struck Somewhere between the Sun and the Moon"  I think it fits.]
IV.  Look at the sun and moon, so high above us.
       There, we will build our home,
       Rivaling Kubla's Xanadu
       His fabled pleasuredome.

       A castle hidden between the clouds and sky,
       A manor house so grand,
       But nowhere will be happier
       Then where I hold your hand.

V.  Only the sun and moon can know the future
      And what tomorrow brings.
      Yet I doubt that they would tell us
      About such mundane things.
 
      If I have need to know what will be our fate,
      I look into your eyes.
      There, I will see our destiny.
      It comes as no surprise.

VI. The mighty sun and moon cannot control my thoughts
       Or what mood I am in,
       But all my emotions crumble
       At the sight of your grin.

       It makes me laugh, and can dry up all my tears.
       It dispels all the rage,
       All the madness will fade away.
       I fly free from my cage.

VII.  You are my sun and moon, my bright shining star.
         You are the world to me.
         Yet you don't even know my name.
         It's such a tragedy.
       
         Just give me this moment, one glorious try,
         A last chance, then I'm done,
         Under the mysterious light
         Of the moon and the sun.

Recovering the Past,Part One

As I mentioned in a previous post, I lost much of my portfolio due to a flood in 2003.  While much of it was weak, in my opinion, one particular piece, I felt, had much merit.  It was a poem of seven or so cantos, (or groups of stanzas, I am not sure of the exact term to use) and I still consider it to be one of my best works.  Lately, I have been trying to rewrite it.  Here is my first attempts.  The cadence and overall themes are the same, as are quite a few word choices.  The final wording and stanza order are still being worked out.  One thing I don't have is a new title, as I have long since forgotten the original one from 1992. Otherwise, it is familiar to the original.  Here are the first few stanzas.  I hope you like it.
[I have since come up with a proposed title. "Love-Struck Somewhere between the Sun and the Moon".  I think it fits]
I.  There is no sun or moon when I'm without you,
    My life just seems to pause.
    Time loses all of its meaning
    And your love is the cause.

    Each second stretches onward, ever outward
    Into infinity.
    The wait is so agonizing
    'Til you return to me.

II.  How dare the sun and moon try to outshine you
      With their obnoxious light.
      I would gladly sacrifice them
      And live in endless night.

    Your beauty glows eternal, everlasting.
     Its warmth keeps me alive.
    As long as you are beside me,
    I know I will survive.

III.  I'd gift you the sun and moon, if I could;
       It would be a pleasure.
      Yet your true love is worth far more,
      Precious beyond measure.

      Not silver, nor gold, or even diamond gem
      Can equal your pure heart.
      No one could afford to buy you,
      A unique work of art.

Reality Shows Used To Be Friends of Mine

My love of puzzles and games extends to my television viewing.  I used to watch game shows such as Jeopardy, (and even fake game shows, like the classic, Emmy award-winning Whose Line Is It Anyway?), but I have cooled off on those.  I still like reality competition shows.  It all started with Survivor, of course, but since in moved from the summer months, I really don't watch any more.  I still like Big Brother, even if some of the challenges seem to repeat themselves.  I am not a superfan who remembers every competitor or watch online, but I do love the social interaction.  I could never go on, though, not with my issues.  I much prefer talent competitions.  I don't really watch any where the audience gets to decide who wins, for example The Voice, as I find it more popularity based than on actual talent.  I first got hooked on them when I was up late one night and caught Project Runway while flipping through the channels.  While I cannot design, I did used to know how to hand sew.  Runway helps me catch fashion trends before they become mainstream.  Although not entirely connected to men's wear (and there really should be a spin-off for this), it still helps, since I consider myself fashion forward ever since I stole ideas from friends in high school.  I guess I like cooking shows most of all.  This love started with Top Chef.  I consider myself a somewhat good, self-taught, amateur cook, but these professionals go beyond most of what I can do.  I get good ideas for recipes and trends, though.  Then, there is Next Food Network Star, something I almost could get on, especially since Kentucky natives have had a good track record (Go Demaris and Jason!).  I just don't think I am anywhere near that level yet, and besides, I am not sure I would like to be that kind of star.  My most favorite show currently is The Great British Baking Show.  I believe it to be the fairest competition out there.  Amateur cooks go out to a tent kitchen over a weekend to compete in three challenges.  On the morning of the first day, the cooks have to create a "signature" dish based on that week's theme.  They know the challenge beforehand, so they can practice and even bring their own ingredients and tools to help.  The afternoon is dedicated to a mystery "technical" challenge where the cooks are given ingredients and a bare recipe outside of their wheelhouse to recreate.  Then they are blind-judged to see how close they came to the actual recipe, ranked from worst to best.  On the second day, the have to create a "showstopper" that will take the entire day.  After this, the best of the weekend is named "star baker" and the worst is eliminated.  The overall winner gets a crystal cake stand and prestige, no prize money!  The only fault is that this last season, my local PBS station aired it two days late, and only one a week even when there were multiple episodes.  That, added to an unannounced pledge drive, led the finale to be aired late.  Not only did I have to hide from the spoilers from when it aired on the BBC last year, but current ones as well.  Then, out of nowhere, TV Guide printed the winner.  Very disappointing.  I only hope the next season goes off well now that it has changed hands and lost some of the talent.  Now, if only someone could come up with a writing competition show, I could go on it and win.  Of course, it might be very boring, just footage of people typing on keyboards or writing longhand on legal pads, but still.