Renaissance of Role Play

I have start writing what looks like will turn into my next book. Currently I have no title and no directed purpose other than to recount the events of a six year long roleplaying campaign. It took place in a home grown fantasy setting using the Hackmaster ruleset. The campaign was something of a renaissance of role play for the group. Long before we had many years of a consistent third edition Dungeons and Dragons campaign, and had after that played in various groups at various times with various rules, but never had a consistent group, with a consistent campaign, using a single set of rules.

It started out with my addiction to the tenants of Hackmaster; the simple rules, the count up system, the harsh combat. I convinced the group to give it a try, and we managed to get the original group back together. Over the months it turned into a regular event, and has been semi regular ever sense. My father and I took turns being the Dungeon Master. A whole new world was created and explored, characters were given detailed backgrounds and lively personalities, and the characters managed to survive. Well, at least some of them!

The conclusion to this hackmaster campaign, and my obsession with detailing as many of the characters, events, locations and grand story arc's that it included, coincided with my decision to write 500 words every morning on whatever I was obsessing about (more on that decision in another blog post!). Once I finished my first book (available for purchase on Amazon), most of my mornings turned into writing about the stories that came out of the Hackmaster campaign. I knew that there was the possibility of a book when I realized just how much I had available to write about. So with that being said, I wanted to post a snippet from the first chapter:

Urgran’s massive grey hand points down to the village on the map that says, “Thenes”. In a deep orcish voice he explains his battle plans to his younger brother, Orgug, who stands across the table resting his hands on the hilt of his axe. Orgug has always been loyal to his older brother, even though he is the larger and stronger of the two. Two goblin’s pirch their chins on the edge of the table, barely tall enough to see the map as they are informed on where they are supposed to attack. Hearing a squall out front and the wolves howling again, Urgran tells both goblins in his rumbling voice to go quiet the guards down.

Continuing their battle plans for a few minutes, they hear a scuttle on the other side of the door, then nothing. Orgug reaches for the makeshift door handle, but the door bursts open as a dwarf barrels into the room, and a human quickly follows with a sword landing square on Orgug’s shoulder. An arrow follows it, being let loose by an elf just behind the man. The dwarf, having barreled past the orc, brings his axe up behind the knee. Greatly wounded and near death, Orgug swings his axe into the side of the man, who kicks Orgug to the ground to die.

By this time Urgran had crossed the table with his own axe targeting the dwarf, who deflects the blow with his warhammer. Reeling in pain, a female human steps up and lays a healing hand on the side of the other. Together, both humans and the dwarf battle Urgran into a corner with his weapon pinned to the wall. Before being slain he manages to draw a dagger and plunge it into the dwarf’s belly.

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