Sorry the website hasn't been getting the
proper TLC. My attention has been almost wholly consumed -- albeit
divided -- between (a) working on my new house and (b) the production
of The Seagull
I'm directing at South High School in Minneapolis.
South High is my alma mater, and under the
guidance of Louise Bormann it has had a consistently
excellent theater department. I feel very honored to be
serving as a guest director. For The
Seagull I started by producing a completely original proxy
translation of the play, and am now embroiled in the actual directing
of the play -- which also includes developing in-depth acting workshops
for the actors.
I keep expecting to be able to get a few
days ahead in my prep work for the project and, thus, find the time to
work on other projects. But that hasn't actually happened yet.
And
I'm still stuck working off my laptop... which is a perfectly nice
computer, but has only a fraction of the software I use to keep this
website properly up to date.
Soon, however, I'm hoping to have things
back to normal.
The problem with The Legacy
is that Salvatore allows one of his strengths (his ability to vividly
describe fight scenes) to bloat horribly out of control. The plot, with
minimal spoilage, can basically be summarized as such: There is about
twenty pages of meaningful character interaction. Then there’s a big
battle between dwarves and goblins. This battle is extensively
described in both tactics and detail, but is ultimately meaningless: It
has no effect whatsoever on the rest of the book. Then there’s another
twenty pages or so of meaningful character interaction. And then
there’s another huge, rambling fight sequence that lasts for two
hundred pages.
The End.
In fairness to the novel, while the battle between the goblins and the
dwarves is utterly pointless, the big fight sequence which makes up the
bulk of the book is laden with plot. But it’s still just a big fight
scene: It’s page after endless page of detailed thrusts, parries,
dives, cuts, blood, noble charges, and hard struggle.
Die Hard
literally has a narrative with more breathing room.
More damning, however, is that the plot is poorly formed.
(There are some meaningful SPOILERS
from this point forward.)
In my reaction to the Icewind
Dale Trilogy, I mentioned my belief that perhaps the biggest
reason Drizzt Do’Urden caught the imagination of so many readers was
Salvatore’s decision to give him a rival of equally deadly skill in the
formidable assassin Artemis Entreri.
I don’t waver in that conviction, but in reading the handling of the
Drizzt-Entreri rivalry in The
Legacy, I kept expecting one or the other to don a leather
jacket, hop on a motorcycle, and jump over a shark.
Let me see if I can sum this up: Mixed into the larger fight sequence,
Drizzt and Entreri fight. Their fight gets interrupted. They futz
around for a bit, and then they fight again… but this fight gets
interrupted. So they futz around for a bit, and then they fight again…
and this fight gets interrupted, too. So they futz around for a bit,
and then they fight again… and this time Drizzt wins by knocking
Entreri off a cliff. Entreri falls to his doom.
Except Entreri isn’t dead. He’s got a magical cloak that lets him fly.
So he flies back up and they fight again. Drizzt wins again, and this
time he knocks Entreri unconscious, causing Entreri to fly into a cliff
at literally breakneck speed. Entreri falls to his doom.
Except Entreri still isn’t dead. His now-broken magical cloak has
caught on a
rocky spur and he’s dangling from a cliff. So a completely different
character climbs up to Entreri, cuts the cloak off him entirely, and
then watches him fall to his doom.
For real this time.
(Just kidding. In the next book, it’s revealed that Entreri was
miraculously saved from his fall by people who had no reason or
opportunity to do so.)
There are just so many problems with this…
By the time Salvatore is done, the Drizzt-Entreri rivalry has been
robbed of its meaning and significance: While there was definitely room
left open for a rematch after the end of The Halfling's Gem,
the numerous fights between the two in The Legacy
eventually just become so much noise on the page.
Salvatore, to his credit, manages to recover from his mistakes by
providing a really powerful conclusion to the fight… the first time Entreri
falls from the cliff. By the third time that Entreri has supposedly
fallen to his doom, even that has been turned into a hollow mockery.
More importantly, there are only about fifteen pages of actual plot to
be found here, yet Salvatore has stretched that material to cover more
than fifty pages through sheer, dull-minded repetition. This is
infinitely worse than the wasted space in Exile: There you
had random encounters which served no greater purpose in the plot, but
at least they were interesting and original in their own right. In The Legacy, you
simply have bloat.
And this is just one plot thread. The bloat within the other plot
threads is not nearly as egregious, but all of them suffer from it.
Here’s what it really boils down to: The Salvatore who wrote The Crystal Shard
would have boiled The
Legacy down into about 50 pages of taut, action-packed
storytelling. Unfortunately, the Salvatore who actually wrote The Legacy gave us
a 300 page mess leading to...
STARLESS NIGHT
Basically, Starless Night
suffers from the same problem The
Legacy does, although to a slightly lesser degree: Instead
of 50 pages of plot bloated into 300 pages of novel, it's 100 pages of
plot bloated into 300 pages of novel.
The actual, meaningful plot of Starless
Night is fairly straightforward: Drizzt returns to his
homeland and discovers that the dark elves are planning to conquer the
kingdom of his dwarven friend.
That’s a solid plot. It not only moves along the arc of the greater
story Salvatore is obviously trying to tell, it also offers up those
essential crucibles which reveal and develop character: Drizzt,
returning to the homeland he had forsaken, has a meaningful internal
struggle. His friends’ reactions to his decision are meaningful turning
points. And so forth.
But again, Salvatore can’t keep his eye on the ball: The plot wanders
off in a thousand random and meaningless directions. Several pointless
fights consume page after page of empty action. Narrative beats are
repeated again and again and again… and again until you’re reduced to
tears of boredom.
Characters also begin acting in a shallow and random fashion. Whether
it’s a dark elf priestess monologuing with Machiavellian glee over the
doom of our hero while the hero’s allies rally right behind her or a
dark elf mercenary, immediately after capturing Drizzt, launching an
elaborate and completely unmotivated plan to free him again,
Salvatore’s characters simply lack any believability.
(To clarify: Motivation is given to Drizzt’s liberator. However, the
motivation makes no sense. After being instructed by his employer to
kill all the witnesses to Drizzt’s capture, the character concludes
that his employer will make a public announcement that Drizzt has been
captured and, thus, screw things up. The character, therefore, decides
to free Drizzt and avoid the crisis.)
(Feel free to read through that again. But it won’t help.)
Salvatore doesn’t do himself any favors by introducing a plethora of
new characters. Mostly villains, these new characters aren’t
meaningfully vested with any identity or purpose: They’re given names,
shoved briefly onstage, and then hacked down. You have the
vague feeling that perhaps you should be cheering Drizzt on with
particular vigor when he confronts the drow priestess who’s been
torturing him… but since that torture was scarcely even mentioned
before the confrontation happens, you don’t really care.
And don’t even get me started with the half dozen people who all want
to fight with Drizzt so that they can prove that they’re the Biggest
Drow in Town. The final confrontation between Drizzt and one of these
would-be challengers was cleverly handled (with Drizzt’s natural
talents facing off against magically-enhanced skill), but since the
challenger had absolutely no personality or existence beyond “I want to
fight Drizzt!!!” the entire confrontation felt pointless. It was just a
fight for the sake of a fight.
These books are deeply disappointing after the fun times of the Icewind Dale
Trilogy and the Dark
Elf Trilogy. I own several more books in the series (having
bought them in bulk so that I could take them on a vacation to
Mexico),
but have never bothered to read them.
R.A. Salvatore has two strengths as a
writer.
First, he’s capable of writing fresh, detailed, and exciting battle
scenes – battle scenes which not only serve as really excellent set
pieces, but which also actively contribute to the plot. Salvatore’s
stories don’t get put on pause while his characters throw down.
Instead, each fight is an important part of the evolving drama.
Salvatore’s second strength is his ability to craft epic, rapid-fire
plots, cramming them full of the action scenes he writes so well, and
then moving the whole package along at a fast clip. He keeps you
entertained on every page.
For example, The Crystal Shard,
the first novel in the Icewind Dale Trilogy, stretches across half a
decade. It starts with a barbarian invasion, moves through a well-done
coming-of-age story, and then concludes with a massive military
campaign against the armies of an evil sorcerer. It includes
dragon-slaying, demonic machinations, and barbarian heroes becoming
kings.
That’s a lot of stuff to cram into 300 pages or so.
And Salvatore doesn’t slow down. In the second novel, Streams of Silver,
you’ll find a deadly assassin bent on vengeance, a beautiful elven
queen, a quest to reclaim a dwarven city lost to an ancient evil, a
circle of evil wizards plotting for power, bar-room brawls, back alley
dealings, and (of course) more dragon-slaying.
And in the third volume, The Halfling's Gem,
the trend continues: Desert intrigues, damsels in distress, wererat
thieves, battles with pirates, an epic duel between the two greatest
swordsmen in the world, and a portal to hell.
Salvatore’s narrative palette, as you can see, is drawn straight from
stock fantasy and adventure fiction. His prose (except for his
exceptional battle sequences) is purely pedestrian and frequently
marred by his penchant for repeating the same piece of information
(just in case you weren’t paying attention the first time he said it, I
suppose). But what makes Salvatore’s stuff fun to read is his ability
to reach a critical mass of sheer niftiness.
And that’s an important word: FUN.
If you’re looking for the next Great Fantasy Novel that will touch your
soul and live unmarred in the book and volume of your mind, this isn’t
it. But if you’re looking for some serious fun -- the type of
fun that used to be found in the best pulp fiction – then you can’t go
too far wrong by grabbing some Salvatore.
There are a couple of other qualities which make the Icewind Dale
Trilogy worth your while:
First, it feels like a really good D&D campaign. And I mean
that in the best possible way. I don’t mean that you can see the dice
being rolled or anything like that. Rather, I mean that the main
characters have that rare sense of camaraderie, witty repartee, and
ineffable chemistry that can be achieved when a gaming group really
gets into the groove. They feel like the Three Musketeers. Again, it’s fun. (Just in case
you weren't paying attention the first time I said that.)
And, speaking of characters, they’re another highlight of the trilogy.
The supporting cast is a bit cardboardy, but the main characters are a
memorable and entertaining bunch: Each has a unique voice and
personality. Each is given a distinct and interesting backstory. Each
is developed in detail, with meaningful growth and change.
In this last regard, Salvatore shows a remarkable degree of skill when
it comes to putting his characters into crucibles which serve to not
only actively reveal but also change their quality.
Perhaps the most notable of Salvatore’s characters is Drizzt Do’Urden,
a dark elf. Although the dark elves are known for their cruelty and
evil, Drizzt is possessed of a noble heart. An exile from the great
underground cities of his people, Drizzt is also an outcast in the
surface world he has chosen as his home -- perpetually judged by the
color of his skin.
Drizzt is notable because he’s probably the first swords-and-sorcery
hero of significance – cut from the same cloth as Conan, Elric, or the
Gray Mouser – to appear since Karl Edward Wagner’s Kane stories in the
1970s. (His status as an outcast seems to draw frequent comparison to
Elric, although that’s pretty much where the comparison comes to an
end.)
In the narrative of the Icewind Dale Trilogy, Drizzt is on an equal
footing with the rest of the main cast. But something about the
character simply resonated with the readers. Personally, if I had to
take a guess at what caused Drizzt’s immense and inordinate popularity,
I would point my finger at Salvatore’s inspired decision to not only
make Drizzt the finest swordsman in all the land, but to simultaneously
give him a villainous rival of equal skill and ability. Conan, Cyrano,
and the Gray Mouser are all clearly swordsmen of legendary prowess and
skill… but only Drizzt, after being similarly pumped up in the
expectations of the readers, gets to demonstrate his skill in a
life-or-death duel with a villain of equal talent in the form of
Artemis Entreri.
(For the record, Cyrano de Bergerac is still the finest swordsmen in
all the many worlds. Leiber is an idle boaster.)
Drizzt’s popularity lead to a prequel
trilogy dedicated to the telling of his personal history. And
from that point on, he became the main character of the series (which
is now referred to collectively as "The Legend of Drizzt").
GRADES:
THE CRYSTAL SHARD: C+
STREAMS OF SILVER: C+
THE HALFLING’S GEM: C
I originally wrote my What I'm Reading
reactions for Dune
and Dune Messiah
in the summer of 2006. They were supposed to be part of a series of
reactions covering the entire Dune saga, but I got distracted by other
projects and never finished it.
Basically, I think the Dune sequels are
almost
universally
under-rated.
In order to complete proper reactions for
the
later books at this late juncture, however, I would need to re-read the
series. That's unlikely to happen for awhile, so -- in the interim --
here's a quick summary of my thoughts.
CHILDREN
OF DUNE
I
think that either Dune
Messiah or Children
of Duneis the weakest book in the series.
However, it's difficult to figure out which book is worse because it
depends on how you choose to look at the problem
On the one hand, Children of Dune is
almost certainly a better novel than Dune Messiah. On
the other hand, it is also very derivative of Dune Messiah.
Essentially, Children
of Dune retells the same story: In Dune Messiah,
Herbert tells the story of how Paul slips out of the shackles his
prescience had placed upon the human race. And it culminates in the
birth of twins he did not foresee, which (for me) pretty clearly
indicates that Paul's vision has been derailed.
But then Children
of Dune comes along and says, "Nah, just kidding. You need
to pursue the Golden Path to derail the shackles of prescience." And
then it promptly retells the same story as Dune Messiah,
starring Paul's son instead of Paul.
Given the somewhat
half-baked quality of Dune
Messiah, I suspect that this is literally a case
of Frank Herbert wanting a do-over. But the derivative nature of Children of Dune
greatly diminishes it if you're reading the series in sequential order.
On the other hand, if I had to choose one
book or
the other, I think it's a no-brainer to choose Children of Dune.
GRADE:
A-
GOD-EMPEROR
OF DUNE
I
think it safe to say that God-Emperor of Dune
is probably the most-reviled book in the series. But I actually enjoyed
it a lot. It's a very different novel from the earlier books. It's a
contemplative, almost zen-like poem -- but one laced with deeply
horrific tragedy. Watching Leto slowly strip away his own humanity in
order to save all of humanity was a profound experience for me.
I think God-Emperor
of Dune also speaks to the problem many people have with
the series: Herbert didn't write sequels in the traditional sense of
the word.
But that's really not the case with the Dune
novels. Even Dune
Messiah is fairly distinct from Dune, and God-Emperor of Dune
is a completely radical departure. And I can easily see how someone who
enjoyed Dune
would find absolutely nothing appealing about the style or structure of
God-Emperor.
Fortunately, I like both styles of fiction.
And,
for me, the contrast between the two only enriches the experience.
GRADE:
A-
HERETICS
OF DUNE / CHAPTERHOUSE OF DUNE
I
enjoyed Heretics of Dune
and Chapterhouse of Dune
quite a bit. They, again, took the Dune saga in a radically different
direction and developed the milieu in ways I had never expected.
But it's also difficult to know exactly what
to
make of them. Unlike the earlier books, they were specifically
conceived and written as a trilogy... but Herbert died before the
trilogy was completed. So it feels a little bit like reading The Fellowship of the Ring
and The
Two Towersif Return of the King
had never been written.
They're good books... but you're left
dangling
with no sense of conclusion or thematic closure.
When I was reading these books, the concluding
duology -- written by Kevin Anderson and Brian Herbert -- had
not yet been published. Although I've generally avoided those books
like the plague, the next time I read through the Dune saga I'll
probably break down and read the duology. If nothing else, it's
supposedly based on Frank Herbert's original outline -- so it will
hopefully give me some
sense of where Herbert was planning to go.
If you're a citizen of the United States,
then today is the most important day of the year: Election Day.
Millions of people have suffered, bled, and
died to give you your right to vote. But voting is more than just a
right: It's a responsibility. Voting is the fundamental bedrock of a
democratic civilization. When a citizen fails to vote they are, in a
very real and definite sense, inflicting harm on society as a whole.
So if you've been thinking you might just
skip this election, then you should take a moment to think about all
the sacrifices which have been made to give you your vote. And then
find the resolve within yourself to wait in line and perform what is
both your duty and your privilege.
The site hasn't been updated in about a week
and probably will only update sporadically over the next few days.
After that I'm hoping to be able to push more reliable content through
the pipeline.
The short version of what's going in is
pretty simple: I bought a house. I expected to have my primary computer
-- the one I use ot update this site -- set back up pretty rapidly
after the move, but that hasn't happened. So I'm kinda hacking together
an update method.
During this interim period, new content may
(or may not) appear on the
front page, but the archives will not be getting updated.
When
I finished putting everything together, this was the map I had created.
I'm fairly proud of it. (Which would explain why I've written a four
part series on its creation.) It's not the best map of a fantasy city
ever published, but for a city
supplement that can be purchased for as little as $7.99, I
think it's fairly impressive.
Of course, I'm biased. (And shilling.)
(What
is the best map of a fantasy city every published? For my money, Ed
Bourelle's map of Ptolus wins that distinction hands-down. It's a
beautiful work of art, featuring layered geography; individual
buildings; crystal-clear information clarity; and an enormous amount of
utility. Quantity isn't the same thing as quality, but it's notable
that I have a version of the Ptolus map hanging on my wall which is more
than six and a half feet long.
And, even at that immense size, it remains an astonishingly beautiful
piece. The map of Anyoc, by contrast, is designed to be viewed at just
21" x 16" -- which is big, but not huge.)
One
of the things I love about mapping is the ability it has to provide a
conduit for inspiration. Some of the best ideas I've ever had have been
the result of my brain churning something out because there was a blank
piece of graph paper that neede to be filled.
Anyoc
was originally created back in 2001 as the setting for an adventure
module. A playtest draft was completed and playtested (which is
reflected in the playtest credits to be found in the published book),
but the project was cancelled before a final draft was completed --
partly because the publisher was already moving away from D20 modules
and partly so that I could focus on a supplement called Gods & GoddessesTM
(which was also cancelled before it was completed).
In 2002, Campaign Magazine started
publishing my new column: Cities
of Fantasy.
Each issue of the magazine featured a complete fantasy city
designed by me. I wrote two original columns, recycled and expanded the
unpublished Anyoc material for the third, and started work on three
more columns.
Unfortunately,
after publishing a single column (featuring the city of
Dweredell), Campaign Magazine went out of business. So the material was
shelved again.
And shortly thereafter I got tired of my
projects being cancelled by other people for
reasons that had nothing to do with the work itself, so I took a hiatus
from the roleplaying industry and when I came back I founded Dream Machine Productions.
All of which is to say that City Supplement 3: Anyoc
was originally going to look a lot like City Supplement 1: Dweredell
-- a shorter, cheaper book detailing roughly a dozen locations.
But
as I was working on the map, a couple of things happened: First, I kept
getting struck by inspiration as I considered the various stories
behind the buildings and streets I was drawing. Second, I realized that
there was a serious mismatch between the detail of the map and the
detail of the gazetteer. It just didn't make a whole lot of sense to
have a poster-size map serving up only a handful of detailed locations.
So,
despite the fact that the entire book had already been laid out and
proofread, I decided to scrap the existing gazetteer and rewrite it
basically from scratch. At the time, I was appearing as Inspector
Colquhoun in The Hollow
by Agatha Christie. As the requisite detective in the story, I spent
most of the second act onstage, but during the first act I was just
sitting backstage waiting for the murder to happen.
So I would
sit in the dressing room with my laptop, busily working away with fresh
inspiration on an expanded gazetteer for the city. The final result
more than tripled the number of locations detailed.
And that's how the map of Anyoc was both my
creation and my muse.
Merely
aping real world geography will give you a functional map, but won't
create a living city. For that to happen, you have to understand the
soul of the city: What does it look like? How do people move through
it? What's it like to live there? These types of
questions have a very
real impact on how the streets are laid out; how the buildings are
built; the whole nine yards.
In the case of Anyoc,
I had already written up two evocative pieces of detail. The first was
the literal look
of the city:
As
you pass through the inner gates of the wall, you are struck by a
sudden cascade of color: In a single glance you capture fully half the
city as it sweeps up and away from you along the side of a gently
sloping hill. Pale purples mix with soft blues and faded greens;
pinkish reds stand in contrast to burnished gold. And atop the hill,
where it crests at a distance of what must be half a mile, are three
buildings of white stone which seem to dwarf all else within the city's
walls. Anyoc bears the marks of age, as if every curved wall bears an
infinity of memories. People sweep past you - a constant flow of
traffic in and out of the gate through which you havepassed.
Anyoc is built from fairy stone, which comes
in seven types -- taylos,
which is the faded green of a wood beneath the sun; vaylos, which is
the faint violet of an evening cloud; saelos, which is
the pale red of a friendship rose; kadlos,
which is the golden color of burnished copper; anlos, which is the
blue of a noontime sky; bahslos,
the black midnight stone; and essabas,
the star stone, which is of purest white.
This
meant that I had a very specific color palette to work with, and it was
important for me to get those colors right. I spent a non-trivial
amount of time finding the right colors to help evoke the look I wanted
for the city.
Second, I made a point in the city
supplement of detailing what the common architecture of the city looks
like:
The
buildings of Anyoc are seldom higher than they are long. But in many
cases this is not a significant restriction - entire sections of town
are dominated by buildings which run the entire length of blocks, and
which easily reach a height of four or five stories. Often these taller
buildings will be terraced - with each subsequent level smaller than
the ones below, and the remaining space rendered as an outdoor porch or
salon. In some cases these terraces will create the impression of a
pyramid, but generally the terraces are aligned along one side of the
building to complement the angle of the hill. In contrast to the
terraces, other sections of Anyoc see buildings which have been slowly
expanded - until they cross over the tops of streets, meet, and join
one another. And extended eaves are common throughoutthe city.
I
decided to forego the visual representation of buildings meeting each
other across the top of the street (due to the loss of visual clarity
when it came to the roads themselves). But the idea of these long, low
buildings terracing their way up the side of the hill had a significant
impact on how the buildings of the city were laid down on the map.
Here's a representative sample:
Here
you can see the distinctive colors of the fairy stone; the long,
curving architecture of the buildings; and the impact the hill has had
on both the buildings and the streets.
One of the most important creative tips I
ever got was to avoid genre incest.
This advice takes many forms, with perhaps
the most common being: "Read outside the genre."
The
earliest memory I have of this advice goes all the way back to when I
was about eight years old and downloading the writer's guidelines for
Star Trek novelizations off the Prodigy service. The editor of the line
basically said (albeit in much more polite terms), "If your only
influence for writing a Star Trek story is having seen 100+ episodes of
the TV shows and reading 50+ novels, you are almost guaranteed to
produce some unreadable, derivative crap just like the other 25,000
hacks dive-bombing our slush pile."
I can also remember, when I
was about six years old, reading Asimov's Foundation Trilogy and
promptly sitting down to write a story about the fall of a galactic
empire. About three pages in I realized I didn't actually have a story
to tell that wasn't Asimov's story, and I can very precisely peg
revelation as the moment in which I discovered the importance of having
a good idea.
(It was several more years before I realized
that a
good idea is only about 1/10th of the work, although it does help to
make the other 9/10ths far easier.)
I seem to blithering. Where was I going with
all this?
Ah, yes. Research!
So
if I'm designing the map of a fantasy city, it's important not to spend
all my time looking at other people's maps of fantasy cities. Coming
into the project I already brought a weird and eclectic mix of
knowledge --ranging from the study of medieval cities to classes in
urban planning.
And I'm also lucky to be living in this day
and
age, because Google Earth makes it almost trivial to snag satellite
imagery detailing the layout of streets and the shape of real
buildings.
So, as part of my prep work, I spent a couple of hours grabbing
evocative and visually interesting satellite photos from a variety of
cities:
Rome
Moscow
London
Kyoto
Because Anyoc
was built entirely on one large hill, it was particularly important for
me to be able to look at how streets and hills historically interacted
(before the modern era when streets tend to simply cleave through the
local geography). What I discovered that roads will generally
follow the curve of the land, but not always precisely and often with
exceptions. (It may be difficult to climb straight up that
steep
hill, but sometimes it may be easier than the alternatives.)
This
was a good lesson to learn, because before studying these real world
cities I had an inclination towards making the roads follow the
geography almost religiously. I'm glad I moved away from that, because
the result looked very unnatural -- resembling something closer to the
contour map instead of a city.
City Supplement 3: Anyoc
was essentially a completed product when Dream Machine Productions
went on hiatus. The only thing we were waiting for was the map. In
fact, it was my intention to release it as our last product before the
hiatus. But, unfortunately, the cartographer we had working on the
project never completed it. Since we were shifting into a hiatus state
in any case, I shelved the project.
As
we started gearing up to come out of hiatus, however, I started working
on the map myself. Here's what the original sketch map that I drew way
back in 2001 looked like:
Basically,
there was little laid out except for the gross geography and spatial
relationships of the city. However, I know that one of the things I
love about a good city
supplement
is the map: As a handout, there are few things more satisfying than
being able to slap down a really slick-looking map for the players to
look at. And I've found that there are few things that can
get my creative juices flowing like a good map: Imagine yourself
standing on those streets and looking at those buildings. What does
that colorful roof really
look like? What lies beyond that door or hidden around that corner?
I knew that executing a city map to the
standards that I
would demand out of a product would be tough. I had previously designed
the map
for Aerie (City
Supplement 2),
but that was a very different type of project: Aerie had been carved
out of solid rock according to a relatively rigid plan. For Anyoc, I
felt it was important to capture the more natural and organic curves of
a living city.
So I started researching.
SURVEYING
THE FIELD
The
first part of this research was a matter of "surveying the field". I
went to my shelves and pulled down a wide representative sampling of
city maps from other roleplaying supplements. Notable examples include:
Raven's
Bluff
Ptolus
Minas
Tirith
Freeport
Sharn
As you can see, there have been many
different ways of handling the cartography for fantasy
cities. Based on my
recent experience with Ptolus,
among other things, I knew how incredibly useful it could be to have
every street and every building detailed on the map. As a player, I
love the ability to say "I'm going to X by heading down this
street
right here". And as a DM I love being able to say, "Okay, the House of
Violet Gold is this building right here."
With those goals in
mind, I pushed aside the very generic style of maps like the one seen
in the Freeport
sample above. These types of maps are a bit more
graphically detailed than my sketch on graph paper, but the detail is
largely illusory -- none of those blobs actually
represent anything
meaningfully concrete.
I also stepped away from the style of map
seen in the
Minas Tirith sample above: These maps resemble the kind of
cartographical lot maps created by city surveyors and the like.
While I couldn't create the type of detailed,
individual buildings created by Ed Bourelle for Ptolus
(unless I wanted to charge a lot more for the finished product than I
was planning to), I felt that a "roof outline" style (such as those
used in the Raven's
Bluff and Sharn
examples above) represented the
best compromise. Here's the style I ended up with:
With a style in hand, it was time to start
laying out the streets. But before I could do that, I had to finish my
research.
The
following reaction will contain spoilers for both Dune and Dune Messiah. As
a policy, I’m trying to keep the spoilers in What I'm Reading
reactions to a bare
minimum and limited to the first fifty pages of the book. If the
spoilers exceed those guidelines, I’ll make a point to include a note
up front.
DUNE
MESSIAH
From a certain point of view, Dune Messiah
is a disappointment: It simply doesn’t live up to the incredibly high
standard set by Dune
itself.
Some of the problems with Dune
Messiah are failures in the basic craft of storytelling;
flaws which would be notable in any work. For example, there are far
too many scenes – particularly in the first half of the novel – which
are told in flashback or exposition instead of being shown. One is
often left with the feeling that Herbert just didn’t quite feel up to
the challenge of telling the story to be found in those scenes.
This central flaw, in fact, contributes to many of the problems in Dune Messiah. For
example, the stellar character conflicts of Dune are notably
blunted in Dune Messiah…
often because key components of those dramas are ignored or elided
over. For example, there is a cold war tension between Chani and Irulan
which begins to flare into open conflict at the beginning of the novel.
But then the resolution of that interplay is simply shoved off-screen
and then cursorily resolved in an almost incidental and completely
off-hand fashion. (And this despite the fact that its resolution is
absolutely pivotal in setting up the novel’s conclusion.)
What ultimately keeps Dune
Messiah from achieving the true status of classic is that
it fails to find that precious gestalt of Dune: Where Dune operated on
many different levels at once, Dune
Messiah is stripped down to a far simpler dynamic.
Elements of the political thriller, character drama, and high tragedy
remain… but Herbert can’t quite seem to keep all the balls in the air.
For one example, let us consider the tragic grandeur of Yueh’s betrayal
in Dune.
Herbert almost manages to capture the dynamic of high tragedy once
again in his portrayal of Paul’s prescient vision turned to bane. Paul,
trapped by the inexorable fate seen within his prescient vision and
bound by the irresistible momentum of the race consciousness lying
behind the Jihad carried out in his name, has all the makings of
such a tragedy. But Herbert lets it slip through his fingers: The
prescience
itself, although brilliantly handled in many respects (such as the
scene where Paul must let a doom befall himself in order to find a
greater good), also ends up denying some of the central necessities of
true tragedy.
I also think that Dune
Messiah is a difficult story specifically because it ties
Paul in those chains. I think a lot of people (myself included) read
the end of Dune
as a triumph… and Dune
Messiah makes it explicit that Paul failed and failed badly. That’s a
tough pill to swallow. I know it’s what made me put the book down the
first time I tried reading through the Dune saga: It
wasn’t the sequel I had written in my own head. I wanted the Messiah
Triumphant and I got something akin to the False God’s Fall.
With all that being said, I would be seriously remiss in ignoring the
strengths of Dune
Messiah, particularly in the book’s second half: Duncan
Idaho's personal struggle is a very powerful and well-handled piece of
characterization. Paul's manipulation of his prescient vision -- his
constant struggle to find the slightest loophole through which to
escape the chains of his own future -- is often powerfully dramatic.
And there's also some great expansion done on the nifty, sensawunda
stuff, along with the depth and unique feel of the Dune
universe (Tleilaxu face dancers, for example).
But, with that being said, I would still
love to
read a version of Dune
Messiah in which Herbert managed to:
(1) Avoid the storytelling errors in the
first
half.
(2) Expand Alia's personal drama (something
which
would have also added a great deal of depth to Children of Dune).
(3) Let the Chani and Irulan conflict play
out
with the type of detailed political intrigue that he displayed himself
fully capable of in Dune.
(4) Communicate the by-play of the mutual
and
interacting betrayals between the conspirators (and let more of those
by-plays and betrayals play themselves out).
(5) Handle the framing devices of the story
better.
In short, Dune
Messiah reads like a rushed novel. There's a lot of
potential in the basic structure of the story, but little or none of it
is realized in actual practice. Perhaps if Herbert had taken the time
to develop the novel more fully, we might have gotten a work that would
stand up better in the inevitable comparison to its predecessor.
Built
of the seven fairy stones, the city of Anyoc stands proudly upon its
hill. Pale purples mix with soft blues and faded greens; pinkish reds
stand in contrast to burnished gold. And its white walls of essabas -
the star stone - gleam in the bright light of the sun.
But long
ago, in days dimmed by the thick mists of time, the site where Anyoc
now stands was home to another great city: A black city which served
dark and evil powers. It was said that the walls of that nameless city
towered above its streets to a height of five hundred feet, and every
inch of them was stained black with blood.
And beneath the streets of Anyoc, that ancient evil still waits for the
time of its return...
City
Supplement 3: Anyoc
features full-color, black-and-white, and poster-size (21" x 16") maps
of the city, a complete gazetteer featuring more than 30 unique
locations, and bonus maps of the Westgate military complex and the
Street of Trade!
Full-color
maps only available in the Deluxe Color and PDF editions.
Each
City Supplement provides a complete fantasy city. In addition to a
full-page map of the city, each supplement includes a description of
the city's full history, an overview of the major characters and
organizations, adventure seeds, and a complete gazetteer.
It’s interesting reading Dune
immediately following a mass-reading of Vernor Vinge’s catalog, because
both authors are essentially fascinated by post-humanity: Both see
something essentially incomprehensible in the transhuman, but they
approach it in different ways. Vinge chooses to approach it at oblique
angles – from the POV of children; or on the rapid approach to it; or
from a great distance; or through the lens of the primitive.
Herbert,
on the other hand, tends to tackle the transhuman directly, but he does
so from a fundamentally religious point of view.
To be clear on
the distinction here: Vinge also equates transhumanity with godhood
(the references to “Applied Theology” and “deicide”, for example, in A Fire Upon the Deep).
But Herbert actually structures his narrative around a religious viewpoint
– he couches his understanding of the transhuman through symbolism and
prophecy; through divine mystery and ceremony.
Of
course, the post-humanities of Vinge and Herbert are not exactly
identical, either. But it would be interesting to see Vinge tackle
Herbert’s thought (as expressed in an interview): “I had this theory
that superheroes were disastrous for humans, that even if you
postulated an infallible hero, the things this hero set in motion fell
eventually into the hands of fallible mortals. What better way to
destroy a civilization, society or a race than to set people into the
wild oscillations which follow their turning over their critical
judgment and decision-making faculties to a superhero?”
And it would be equally interesting to have seen Herbert tackle Vinge’s
thesis: “Let an ultraintelligent machine be defined as a
machine that can far surpass all the intellectual activities of any any
man however clever. Since the design of machines is one of these
intellectual activities, an ultraintelligent machine could design even
better machines; there would then unquestionably be an "intelligence
explosion," and the intelligence of man would be left far behind. Thus
the first ultraintelligent machine is the _last_ invention that man
need ever make, provided that the machine is docile enough to tell us
how to keep it under control. ... It is more probable than not that,
within the twentieth century, an ultraintelligent machine will be built
and that it will be the last invention that man need make."
But I digress.
For those of you completely unfamiliar with Dune, it may
suffice to say that it is one of those works grouped with the Foundation
Trilogy or The Lord of the Rings:
A transformative and pivotal classic which cast a long shadow upon the
entire genre from the moment it was published.
To understand how Dune
achieved this stature, consider for the moment a seemingly simple
question: What is the most impressive thing about Dune?
The trick is not in any particular answer. It is in the breadth
of answers your question will provoke. Many people will point to the
planet of Arrakis itself -- painstakingly rendered and with a
completely realized ecology. Others will point to
the manipulation
of prophecy. Or the action-packed battle sequences. Or the alien
cultures. Or the evocative future history. Or the exploration of
religious themes.
The story of Dune
is a political thriller; it’s a character drama; it’s high tragedy;
it’s mythological; it’s religious. And then Herbert tells it in the
style of historical fiction within one of the most deeply realized
science fiction settings ever realized on paper. It’s a gestalt
creation.
And what do I, personally, find most impressive about Dune?
The fact that Herbert successfully realized a story with the emotional
depth and archetypal resonance of a Greek tragedy. I’ve probably read,
watched,
and listened
to the Dune
story more than two dozen times. And yet, every single time, there’s
something fresh and new which can be gleaned from the experience.
GRADE: A+
For additional comments on Dune,
which include SPOILERS, click here.
Eclipse Evocation
[Darkness] Level:
Cleric 7, Sorcerer/Wizard 7 Components: V,
S, M/DF Casting
Time: 10
minutes Range:
2 miles Area:
2-mile-radius sphere Duration: 4d12
hours Saving
Throw: None Spell
Resistance: No This
spell creates an area
of magical darkness in a 2-mile radius centered on a point chosen by
the
caster. Within the area of the spell the sun is blotted out, creating
an area
of magical darkness that suppresses natural light sources, resulting in
an area of
shadowy illumination. Creatures within an area of shadowy illumination
gain
concealment (20% miss chance). Even creatures that can normally see in
such
conditions (such as with darkvision or low-light vision) have the miss
chance
in an area shrouded in magical darkness. A darkness spell (one with the
darkness descriptor) counters
and dispels a light spell (one with the light descriptor) of an equal
or lower
level. A darkness spell brought into the area of a light spell of equal
or
higher level is temporarily negated (and vice versa). If both the
darkness and
light spells are simultaneously negated, the otherwise prevailing light
conditions exist in the overlapping areas of effect. Arcane Material
Component:
A small diamond dipped in black oil.
Shadow
Spy Divination
[Darkness, Scrying] Level:
Assassin 3, Cleric 4, Sorcerer/Wizard 3 Components: V,
S, M/DF Casting
Time: 1
minute Range:
Personal Target: Your
shadow Duration: 1
min./level Saving
Throw: None Spell
Resistance: No This
spell animates your
shadow, allowing you to independently move it up to your speed as a
move
action. In addition, the shadow spy acts
as a scrying sensor, allowing you
to
see (but not hear) the immediate surroundings of your shadow as per a scrying spell. A shadow
spy can be
difficult detect, making Hide checks using your skill modifier with a
+10
circumstance bonus. In areas of dim light or shadowy illumination, this
circumstance bonus doubles to +20. The shadow
spy cannot be physically harmed. While the spell remains in effect,
you possess no natural
shadow. A darkness spell (one with the
darkness descriptor) counters
and dispels a light spell (one with the light descriptor) of an equal
or lower
level. A darkness spell brought into the area of a light spell of equal
or
higher level is temporarily negated (and vice versa). If both the
darkness and
light spells are simultaneously negated, the otherwise prevailing light
conditions exist in the overlapping areas of effect. Arcane Material
Component:
A shard of obsidian.
The eclipse
spell is the type of thing that high-level necromancers use to keep
their undead happy and Dark Lords crafts into sunslayer spheres
to keep the yokels properly cowed with fear.
But shadow
spy is the type of all-purpose utility spell that just
about any self-respecting spellcaster will find useful. It's less
powerful than scrying,
but also a slightly lower level and very flavorful.
Many of you are reading this website because
of "D&D:
Calibrating Your Expectations",
the essay I wrote in March of last year. One of the points I made in
that essay is that low level characters are actually more than capable
of being experienced experts in their fields. Even at 1st-level, while
they don't have to
be, they certainly can
be.
Which brings us to the character of Ranthir,
the last of our main characters: This guy isn't your typical 1st-level
apprentice. Instead, he's an accomplished Acolyte of the legendary
Academy in Isiltur, the Spired City. Although his esoteric theories are
not fashionable or popular, he is nevertheless an accomplished scholar.
In
our world he would be a gifted graduate student. In the world of
D&D, there is a much higher ladder for him yet to climb. But I
think it's important not to denigrate the accomplishments of those who
would be considered gifted and extraordinary in our world merely
because they happen to live in a world where the superhuman is possible.
Which is not to say I don't like my share of
neophyte characters, too. Take a peek at Tee and Elestra,
for example.
All
I'm saying is that it can also be fun to shake things up a bit and roll
up a starting character who hasn't just fallen off the turnip truck:
The guy who was already honored among his tribesmen, served a long and
glorious tour of duty in the military, or distinguished himself in
a scholastic career.
And I'm pointing out that you
don't need to start the character any higher than 1st-level to
make that happen.
Your honor, I think you will find -- if you
just peruse this report --
that I was not speeding when the state trooper pulled me over.
Hmm... Who prepared this report? Well, I did
of course.
Now, if you'll just turn to page 2 you'll
find the general
conclusion of the report: I am not guilty of speeding. On page 4 you'll
find the detailed diagrams demonstrating that if I was driving no more
than 30 mph, I could not have been driving 40 mph when the officer
pulled me over. And if you flip to page 7--
What's that? My protestations of innocence
don't automatically me innocent?
I'll be appearing as "Sam" in Ronin Theater's
production of David Mamet's All
Men Are Whores.
Cafe Oliver, Minneapolis
1931
Nicollet Ave.
October 10th, 11th, and 13th - 8 pm
Lowry
Lab Theater, St. Paul
Lowry Building - 350 St. Peter Street
October 24th - 8 pm
October 25th - 7pm and 9 pm
Tickets
$12 at the door
$10 with reservation/Fringe button/student ID
Reservation by E-Mail: ronintheater@gmail.com
Reservations by Phone: 612-870-2995 x22
If you
come, feel free to stick around and say "Hi" after the show!