Post by Dank on Apr 30, 2004 14:04:04 GMT -5
Empire of The Petal Throne
An Interactive Role-Playing Game
With The Late Dennis M. Chapman
Spring 1978
An Interactive Role-Playing Game
With The Late Dennis M. Chapman
Spring 1978
Dennis' narrative is taken directly from the journal transcription, while most of my original response in the first seven chapters has been edited.
Dennis was an excellent writer by the time he entered the University of Southern California. His easy command of the language and mature creative writing skills lent to this style of “interactive” role-playing game.
We would sit together, usually in the late afternoon and pass a notebook back and forth. As I progressed through the world that he created for me, based on the role-playing game system devised by M.A.R. Barker entitled “Empire of the Petal Throne” (c) MAR Barker, he would describe my surroundings, the inhabitants therin and their reaction to my actions. I would determine my “fate” by describing my actions to Dennis. He would base the world’s response to me with a series of judgement calls and die rolls.
What follows is a tribute to his deft creativity and superlative writing skill.
The Towers of Jakalla
Chapter One
Your find yourself at sea, in a small but serviceable boat with battered oars. A wind carries you out away from the city of Jakalla, whose shoals you can see beneath the reflections of the blinding midday sun. Your lips are parched and swollen with lack of water, and your eyes have been blistered almost shut by the seemingly endless days of rowing the coastal tidal flats. Your shoulders ache horribly!
Near the limits of my endurance, I try to sleep...
Sleep does not come for the light is too intense and the pain in your shoulders and back is far too great to "sleep" through. You see more fresh plant life below you in the water... the surf crashing on the shore, the rocky, rocky shore. You continue to roll.
Pain brings me back to awareness. I am foundering in an angry sea, adrift amongst crashing breakers and roiling surf.
A terrific gale strikes up! Your ship has been pushed to the rocks! It has smashed on the rocky shore... your life is imperiled... you must swim around the rocks or die at the hands of your element!
Mustering the last of my strength, I swim for my life.
A drenched, tired, severely wounded soul is buffeted up onto shore... the wall to the city looms 50' above you, and you see a guard tower a short distance down the grassy embankment.
I look along the stretch of shore for some sort of shelter.
You find none.. you spot a man stop the wall making his patrol, he seems not to look in your direction.
I remain still.
"Hey, you there! You! The beggar in the bloody rags! Trying to break into the City!" The guard towers over you now with a pole axe pointed at your already failing body.
Standing, and holding my hands out as unthreateningly as possible, "Oh no, good protector!" Pointing to the remains of the dinghy, "My master lies yonder on the shore gravely wounded. I beg only for assistance."
"You lie! I can see all the beach from here, and there is nothing but scattered driftwood out there!" He disappears.
I try to remain as inconspicious as possible, moving further under the rampart.
Five city guards led by their captain, the Kasí, all in heavy infantry outfits are coming at you, and they don't look too pleased.
I repeat my plea for help.
Standing a good 30' away, and looking very much surprised, (for they hadn't seen you) they move upon you slowly... one of the guards is dispatched to check out your fabrication, the four remaining move upon you slowly, the Kasí well in charge of what is going on. Two have their spears ready, one with his sword, the captain with his axe eyes you warily... he gives the command to throw the spears! You are pinned to the ground at the left arm by one of them! The other lands near your thigh... the Kasí mutters his satisfaction.
I grimace in pain!
The Kasí comes up to you, standing above your head. He brings his broadsword slicing down in a great arc that stops just shy of breaking the skin on your neck. He presses... "What is the real reason for your presence here?"
"I have come to seek out the vermin following of the Shaman Akhba, human rot that walks upon the streets of Jakalla as we speak. (Spitting) I have received near mortal wounds from the black priests of Tsarul. And now, it seems, that even the very protectors of Jakalla are set upon me..."
Tsarul? We know of no Tsarul! What country are you from? This said, he picks the few remaining rags off your body with the point of his sword. His eyes remain fixed on your face.
Stammering, I say, "Surely you have heard his vile name! Tsarul, harbinger of evil, despoiler of virgins, caster of bloody spells...
"What strange and mystical powers your gods must wish to have! All of our Gods can perform spells! You only have one? And that Akhba character, I have heard the name mentioned.. some thing quite recently about Hlútrgu.. nothing extraordinary.. just saved a guardhouse singlehandedly.. any magic-user worth his salt should do as well. Kidnapped your father, eh? I don't know about that... things have been pretty quiet.." He calls to a guard, "Shán Chal, come! What do you think, eh?" he points to your general mid-section and lower torso, now bare... The well-built guard with the pole axe (plucked from where it landed near your thigh) merely grunts and stares, then walks away... "You must forgive my Shán Chal, he has very high standards, noble parents and all that..."
I shudder at the thoughts which begin to creep into my head...
The light is dimming now, the wind off the sea is much brisker... The Kasí says, "Kàl'sedrú, Shán Chal! Come now and take him in! Remember Shán', keep the vitals intact! He may yet be useful to us later!"
[End of part one, Chapter One]
for more information about the game, Empire of the Petal Throne, click here. www.tekumel.com/