Originally Posted by
chirine ba kal
I think, at this point, that I am all caught up with the thread. The annoying connectivity issues mean that the web is very slow-loading, when we do have a connection at all, and unreliable at best. I am having to post at 'off-peak' times, when the condominium behind the house is not on Netflix. I've seen the last of the weekend visitors to their car, and it's quiet again hereabouts.
It has been a very good weekend. I had to be in multiple paces at once, as is sort of usual for me, and I was very dubious about the Blackmoor game (as I had mentioned) as I don't know a lot of the first generation Blackmoor guys personally and I don't like 'going where I haven't been invited'. And I had to leave the meeting / 'reunion' of most of the leading lights of the old Conflict Simulation Association people, which I was really enjoying.
In the event, the Blackmoor game was something really and truly special; I did not play, and if you understand my reasons you may get some insight into me and the way I think. Everybody was there, except for Pete (in the ICU) and John (in hospice), and it was a roll call of the early days of the hobby; the Great Svenny had come in from out of town, Dave Megarry was there, and Dave Wesely was actually playing - which is pretty awesome, as he's not an RPG player. When I got there, the game was in full swing, and I did not want to interrupt the flow of play so I took lots of photos and soaked up the sheer fun that the room was full of.
Why didn't I play?
Because, O My Children, they'd gotten Malia to come, along with her husband and daughter, and they put her in charge of this huge party of some twenty guys. They weren't playing the game for themselves; they were playing for her. You got it - the Twin Cities founders of this hobby, all around Dave Megarry's huge map of Blackmoor, and all doing their best for her - Dave Arneson's daughter. I was not, for anything, going to interrupt this. So, I shot my photos for the archives, and had the little plastic guy of Dave's slipped to her. She didn't know what it was, so I had to tell her. And that, O My Children, was when your old Uncle Chirine had one of those utterly stunning moments in his long and all too-exciting life - to see her light up like that made it all quite worth it.
And then, the icing on the cake. I got to be the 'expert' / 'explainer' to her daughter and the daughter's friend (who was interested in D&D, but had no idea what was going on) about who all us old guys were and are, and showed them all of the 1970s figures I had with me. Telling her and her friend all about that rascal, Captain Harchar of the Clan of the Blazoned Sail. Another moment - not of my personal glory or prestige, but of the awakening of wonder and the imaginations of the two young ladies. Dave Arneson's granddaughter. Contemplate that, O My Children...
It was what I live for, and continue to live for.
Got back to the CSA reunion, and talked until 3:30 in the morning, telling the kids of all my old friends just what sort of gaming antics their parents had gotten up to, back in the day. More wonder. More laughter. More blossoming of imagination. And I even got to shout "KAOR, MY PRINCESS! HELIUM, NOW AND FOREVER!" and had the utter joy of seeing all their heads nod in understanding; I seem to have sold a lot of copies of "A Princess of Mars" to a lot of young people, this weekend.
It's what I do. And why I'm writing this massive tome, the size of the telephone directory. To tell everyone and anyone that once upon a time, dragons spread their wings, brave deeds were done, and little girls grew up to be pirate princesses.
**********
Kiya: "A princess, my Lord? Of what land?"
Chirine: "Of the Land of Legend, Captain; The Land of Legend"
- from "To Serve the Petal Throne", Book Five
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