Phantom

Phantom can be taken to mean several things.

It could be talking about The Phantom, a mask wearing comic strip superhero that got his start in the 1930s. He’s the first superhero to wear a skin tight spandex costume, and the first to wear a mask where his pupils didn’t appear. Both of those have become a standard in the comic industry.

It could be talking about Erik, the primary antagonist of the 1909 French horror novel The Phantom of the Opera.

And, I’m sure there are plenty of other things I could point too… Hell, just Google the word Phantom and see how many responses it comes up with. I did just that, and it came up with 55,700,000 results in some .44 seconds. The first three things that I saw marked was a movie named Phantom, a car by Rolls-Royce, and the Phantom Fireworks Company. After that came the Wikipedia page Phantom which is more or less a disambiguation page that gives brief description of the word and then lists the number of different things it refers too. It’s a rather extensive list.

Anyway, in the context I would look at it in, a phantom is a type of ghost, which is a type of incorporeal undead which can be used effectively in both fiction and table-top gaming. I was looking for a specific link to a creature simply titled phantom to one of the SRD (System Reference Document) websites, but the search sort of came up empty. I got a Phantom Steed, a Phantom Fungus, a Phantom Trap, but no creature simply titled Phantom, and it would be my guess that the rules for a ghost and a specter would be the same exact rules you’d come across for a phantom. In fact, for a table-top game, or a work of fiction (any genre of fiction), the best use of the term phantom would probably be to describe a corporeal foe who is very stealthy and moves about like a ghost or specter would.

I can actually sort of see a villain like that. I’d leave him undead, because that would just go well with the name (and hearken back to The Phantom of the Opera where Erik had a face that looked like a decomposing corpse), and I’d give him two magical items: a cloak of greater invisibility, because how else would someone calling themselves the phantom want to get around, and a ring of incorporiality (yes, I just made that word up) which makes it possible for this corporeal creature to move about in the exact same fashion a ghost would. Using the ring he would be able to shift from the physical plane to the ethereal plane and pass through solid objects as though he were a, for lack of a better term, ghost. Give him a pair of boots that supply a bonus to his move silently check and he’d be damn impossible to find if you weren’t using magic to look for him…

Hmm…

I might have just figured out the proper antagonist for the adventure my Dungeon Crawlers are travelling through right now…

Shit…

This is a public forum.

You saw nothing!!!

Absolutely nothing!!!

It was just a phantom, a figment of your imagination, now go back to bed…

I know that’s where I’m going.

Ryan

7-20-14

A novel… on twitter…

I’ve been struck by the strangest of ideas, one that’s got me all twitter pated.

I mentioned in a facebook post yesterday that a modern epistolary novel would be told using various social media outlets, and today the possibility came to me out of the blue. Write a novel using twitter. No one sentence can be over 140 characters, and it all has to be posted on twitter. It’s a project that could take months… starting of course with some idea to get a novel going in that direction. The last epistolary novel I read, and liked, was Dracula… so, maybe something along those lines.

A horror novel written on twitter… I don’t think it’s a breakthrough idea, but I think it might work, at least to get me a few more followers. lol.

To the drawing board!!!

Ryan

7-13-14

Ghosts...

Alright, so I asked my lovely Cupcake for a topic and she said ghosts with a question mark at the end of it. I’m not sure why the question mark was there. I guess that’s probably an indication that she wasn’t sure, and I should take the post wherever I felt it was necessary to go. As for where that is… I couldn’t tell you. Lol.

I guess I could just start talking and see where that gets us.

Ghosts are believed to be a paranormal occurrence that is often cited as proof of an afterlife. The belief is that ghosts are the remains of a person’s soul, what was left over when their physical body died, and usually, it’s believed that ghosts are created when someone has a violent death or where they die in a way that they weren’t exactly ready for it. And, as such, their soul tries to continue to exist without the body, trapping their soul here on the material realm and preventing it from moving on to the afterlife. Even though the soul tries to remain on the material plane it isn’t one hundred percent successful. You see, ghosts are immaterial; they lack mass, and exist merely as a collection of energy that shifts between our plane (the material plane) and this other second plane called the ethereal plane. The ethereal plane kind of overlaps ours and exists basically as a field of energy that connects all life… yes… the ethereal plane is the Force.

Now, that’s pretty much what I know textbook wise about ghosts.

Have I ever had any experiences with ghosts?

I can’t rightly say that I have. Not one hundred percent to my knowledge. I’ve never seen one in person. I’ve never been in the room when a strange voice comes out from nowhere. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in ghosts. Just because I’ve not seen one, doesn’t mean I’ve not felt one.

The ethereal plane, or the Force if you prefer, is something we’re all in contact with. And, as such we have the ability to “sense” certain things about it and our surroundings. That feeling you get when somebody is staring at you, and you’re not looking in their direction, that is information transferred via the ethereal plane. Or cold spots, when a suspected spirit is in the room it will drain the energy away from the point of its manifestation and anybody near that spot will feel the air get cooler. Think of it this way, heat is energy, if it’s getting cold the energy is going away. Then there’s the doom and gloom feeling. The moment when you simply know that something’s wrong, that there’s something that’s not natural in the same room as you. I’ve had that feeling many a time… usually in graveyards. This is why I stay far far away from graveyards.

Now… what else can I say about ghosts…

They make interesting enemies when it comes to table top RPGs. Why? They’re almost impossible for the PCs to hit without special weapons, and if used right, they can really force some wonderful role-playing moments. Convincing a ghost that it’s dead, and trying to help it move on to the afterlife; that would be a killer trip for anybody. And, often, the PCs will loot whatever corpses are left after a battle. This can make for an interesting recurring villain as a ghost will hunt down the person who stole from it and do whatever they can to get what was stolen back. And, in that same vane they can make excellent quest givers. I could cite examples of the latter in a wide array of games on the market today, and yes, many of those examples would be RPGs.

Now… what else… I could probably go on… but I really don’t want to. It’s getting late, and I want to go to bed now.

Gnite kids.

Ryan

7-12-14

Bad Wolf, story stater...

So, what follows is the first little segment I wrote of the novel I'm working on for publication later this year. I wrote this about two years ago, and am just now getting back to it. Lol.

Enjoy:

Azariels's head throbbed as he sat up. He felt the warmth of his flesh through the palm of his hand, and knew the light would sting his eyes when he opened them. Still it had to be done.

Pain flared, momentarily, and a small tavern room opened up to him when the lights cleared a little. There had been drink last night, and plenty of it, and now he was sitting on a rough mattress with a wool blanket pooled around his waist. He didn't have to look to know the innkeeper's daughter was laying to his left. She was a young thing, Azariel also knew, between fifteen and seventeen summers, and there would be blood staining the mattress. The elf smiled at this last bit, and wondered just how many virginal notches that made on his belt.

Still, there was a time to make a quiet exit, and that time was vanishing as fast as Sol rising in the sky. He was out of bed, his pants and tunic on when the heavy fists fell on the door.

“Felicia!” The innkeeper called in the gruff and grizzled voice of an old soldier.

Felicia, a dainty redhead, shot up into a sitting position, her wide eyes staring at the door.

“Damn it,” Azariel said.

“Felicia, open this door!” There was no pounding this time but Azariel heard the click as a crossbow was drawn and its bolt set. He checked the catch on his belt, making sure it was secure, and slid both his knives back into their sheathes at his hips. He grabbed his rusted greatsword, a weapon as blunt as the side of a tree and broken down to the length of a longsword, he slid it into the frogs on his back, leaving it open to the world, and started for the window.

“You're leaving?” Felicia said, panic in her voice. The night was coming down around her, no doubt.

“I'm a big fan of not getting shot with a crossbow,” Azariel said. He lifted the window and looked out. They were two stories up, and the nearest building, a little general store, was more than thirty feet away. Straight down was the answer, painful maybe, but necessary.

“We can explain it to him,” Felicia said, her voice pleading, dancing towards hysteria. “We can tell him we're in love!”

Azariel looked back at her for a moment. She was beautiful with skin the color of alabaster, and great big green eyes. Her hair was like the sun setting on the horizon, and had been the thing that attracted him to her in the first place. He considered it, considered staying with her, and decided against it within a period of two seconds.

The door exploded inwards, the knob ripping off and splinters flew in every direction. The innkeeper stepped in, a man six feet tall and built like a dwarf with a beard to match. He leveled the crossbow and fired within heartbeat of the door opening. The bolt whistled through the air. It hit the wood of the window sill hard enough to throw another series of splinters into the air. Azariel stared at it for a moment and the two inches that separated it from his hand.

“No, daddy!” Felicia said. She flung the covers aside and charged her father. “I love him! Please no!”

“I'll kill ya!” the bartender bellowed and yanked the string back on the crossbow faster than anyone Azariel had ever seen.

“Yeah,” he said, and set his foot on the window sill. He ducked his head and kicked. The elf flew, his back and legs straight as an arrow, and his arms out like the feathered fletching. He turned in the air, rolling head over heels, and landed in a crouch. His ankle yelled at the contact, but Azariel was up in short order. Another crossbow bolt struck the ground, kicking up dust.

“I'll kill ya! Ya damned elf!” The bartender said. Azariel glanced back, saw the innkeeper was already loading another bolt. Still the elf couldn't resist himself.

Azariel spun on his heel, sweeping both arms out, and the left back in as he bent at the waist. He flipped his shoulder length blonde hair over the top of his head and made a show of flipping it back. He straightened and locked eyes with the innkeeper. The man had his crossbow leveled and sighted. Still Azariel smiled, a devils grin. He could see Felicia over her father's shoulder. She was tugging on his arm, trying to get him to stop.

“I wish you luck in your endeavor, kind sir,” Azariel said, the devils grin never leaving his face. “My name is Azariel Athendash. Though, I'm unable to face off with you today, I hope you seek me out. I could use a good challenge.”

With that Azariel ducked and spun. He heard the bolt impact where he had just been standing. The barkeep would be loading another bolt by now, but Azariel's legs were swift, and carried him out of the crossbow's range, and around the corner of the general store. He slowed to a walk as he moved towards another cluster of buildings closer to the town wall. He'd stored his gear under one of the two watch towers, and it was time to retrieve it. It was time to move on from this little hovel, time to move on to bigger and better conquests. Maybe a city.

And, there's a bit more too it, but I think I'll post the rest of it elsewhere then here. On Watt Pad or Medium, maybe DeviantArt. Or maybe all three. Anywho, when I do post it, I'll make sure you all have links. And, I hope you all can't wait for the book!!!

Ryan

6-19-14

Good NEWS!!!

Today was supposed to be a blog post about Han Solo, but I think I'm going to hold off on that post till tomorrow.

Why?

Because I have good news that I can and can't tell you about.

What's the good news I can tell you about?

Well, I'm starting work on a new book. It's a fantasy story that encapsulates one of my number one favorite Dungeons and Dragons game moments. I would tell you what that moment is, but it would ruin the story. Let's just say that it involves a halfing and a dragon. Yes... it get's you all excited doesn't it?

Anyway, what's the good news I can't tell you?

That would be the publication date of this story. I have a date in mind, and my calenders and goals are all marked towards this, but I'm not going to get to far ahead of myself.

All I will say now is that I am going to self publish this book, and I hope to have it on the market by the time fall rolls around. We'll see how that goes with me working on it and what not. And, I'll let you know more the closer I get to my goal.

Also, if there's an artist in the audience who would be willing to work for next to nothing I need to get some cover art for the book. That might have to wait though.

Anyway, peace out.

Ryan

6-18-14

Elemental Telekinetic Abilities

Don't worry, looking at the title kind of confuses me tool. Lol. But, it's something you'll pick up on really quickly.

Why?

Because this subject has been covered in a wide array of media, including Disney's most recent animated endeavor. Frozen is the story of the Ice Queen Elsa (her sister Anna and some boys are mentioned too, I think) as she grows from frightened child into a frightened adult who eventually embraces her abilities and sings a lovely song about it. And, now you'll be singing that song all day, courtesy of Indina Menzel and Disney.

Anyway, Elsa is a cryokinetic. This basically means that she's a psychic whose powers manifest as bursts of extremely cold energy which freezes the water vapor in the air (this also makes it a subschool of hydrokinesis, the ability to manipulate water). It's a spontaneous ability that is tied, like all other things, to the emotions of it's wielder, and if their emotions are chaotic and uncontrollable, such as Elsa who spent most of her life as a recluse and terrified of herself, then their powers are going to be chaotic and uncontrollable.

Example: Elsa in public for the first time in fifteen years and her little sister tells her she got engaged after knowing a guy for less than fifteen minutes. Elsa, understandably enough, flew off the handle and her powers went wild. That caused the crowd around her to freak out and cry witchcraft and sorcery, and Elsa got afraid. That drove her powers further and further out of her control. Then she ran away and caused an eternal winter, or something like that.

And, another popular example of a cryokinetic: Frozone from The Incredibles. And, Ice Man from the X-men.

But, cryokinesis isn't the only elemental psychokinetic power possible.

You have pyrokinetics like the Human Torch of the Fantastic Four and Charlie McGee from the Stephen King novel Firestarter. (It's also Mr. King we have to thank for the word pyrokinetic, and any derivatives thereof. Such as words that replace the prefix pyro or tele with another prefix implying some other element.)

You have terrakinetics like Terra from the Teen Titans series.

And Hydrokinetics such as Aquaman, Mermaidman, and Percy Jackson (along with the aforementioned cryokinetics).

Aerokinesis= Storm from X-men. (The technical definition of her power is Weather Manipulation, this, however is a subschool of Air Manipulation as all weather phenomena (with the exception of earthquakes and volcanoes) involve the air in one state of being or another.)

Then you have Benders. This, so far as I can tell, is an Asian term (not sure which culture; my apologies for lack of accuracy) for an individual who can control the elements in one way or another.

There is one thing I would like to note, however. However much it may look like sorcery or magic, it's not. Elemental kinesis is a psychokinetic ability controlled strictly by the mind and instinct. Think of the media you've seen. Can the Human Torch turn himself invisible and teleport from one sid eof the earth to the other. No, he can't, lol. Because his powers are of the mind, not the arcane. It is, however, possible that Johnny Storm could learn how to use the arcane. If he can keep his you-know-what in his pants long enough to study.

Anywho, I'm out.

And, later, I might try to explain how all of this fits into Pathfinder and Dungeons and Dragons. That is, after I do some research and figure it out for myself. Lol.

Ryan

5-22-14

First Novels: Raising Kain

I've said this with other posts, but yes, this is the third time I've sat down to work on this post. I have a valid reason though. I didn't like the way the first one started, and I started the second about five minutes before the end of my break. Had I realized that at the time, I wouldn't have started it then.

Either way, we have this post going now, so I'll just keep on writing.

The reason I didn't like what I had first written is because I was trying to pass off wise and sage advice. Then I looked at it, and knew I shouldn't be giving such advice. It's not that I don't have experience in the situation I'm bringing up. I just don't feel that I've matured enough from that experience to really be able to see it from all angles.

So, all I can really do is tell you about my experience with “first novels”.

I started writing Raising Kain after I read the how-to book Writing the Novel: From Plot to Print. (It's a very good how-to book, and is something I would suggest any writer, new to the craft or not, pick up.) Also, the name of the author is Lawrence Block. What helped me get started on my novel wasn't really what inspired the novel. It was more of a connection I felt with the writer. The way he was talking about his writing experiences the more I felt like I could see myself in that role, experiencing the things he experienced. Then he talked about his early writing habits.

Lawrence Block wrote soft core sex novels for the first few years of his career. He would write two of these a month. He'd do twenty pages a day Monday through Friday, not write anything on the weekends, then finish the book the next work week.

I don't know what possessed me, but I thought “Yeah! I can do this!” (I would also like to note that my first novel was not a soft core sex book.) So, I sat down, on a Monday I think, with a small idea about a boy who becomes the greatest hero in Atlantis, and I knocked out twenty pages. Tuesday (day two or whatever, I don't remember the days of the week) I knocked out another twenty pages. (If you're wondering, twenty pages equals some 6,000 words, not a number to be laughed at.) Both days I walked away from the computer exhausted and broken. It took almost every hour I was awake to write that much.

After that, I didn't touch the book for a week.

I was burnt out on it. I didn't think about it. I didn't want to think about it. All I wanted to do was shut it out of my mind. It wouldn't go away, thankfully.

That next Monday (using that day because Monday is a good day to start things, I guess) and I wrote more on the story. I didn't write twenty pages. I think I wrote five, and instead of walking away from the book like I'd gone eight rounds with Mike Tyson, I walked away feeling good. I felt accomplished, and that's the way it went for the rest of the book. I wrote a little each day, and inch my inch the novel got done.

I loved that novel.

I still love that novel.

And, I found out not too long after I finished writing it that it wasn't even really a novel. It tapped out at forty-eight thousand words, and your average novel starts at sixty-thousand words or so. Yeah, I was kind of crushed.

I still consider it my first novel though. And, I still fondly remember writing it. The only thing that makes me really sad is that I need to keep it hidden in a chest for fear that someone might read it. Lol. Not because I don't think it's good, I absolutely love the story, it's because of the way my writing style has evolved. Raising Kain very much looks like it was written by a child coming out of the sixth grade.

Now, I've ran my mouth on for far longer than I expected too. So, I'm going to shut up, and maybe continue to tell the tales of my first novels.

Ryan

5-8-14