Pen’s Tip at Sword’s Edge

In case you missed the update, I’m moving my blog over to tumblr. My page there has feeds from most of my sites, so it’s pretty much a one-stop shop.

See you at http://fraserronald.tumblr.com/

UPDATE: Rather than use WordPress, I’m going to do my blogging using tumblr. My page there already has feeds for almost every site I run, so it makes even more sense to use it. So, if you are interested in my blog, go here.

I was recently playing with settings on Wordpress to see about changing the way the URLs are displayed. I succeeded in messing everything up for a short while, until I reset everything back to default. See, I’ve got three different Wordpress blogs working from SEP. One is the SEP page, one is my personal blog at the /fraser/ folder, and one is Sword’s Edge, the continuation of the e-zine from way back in the day.

Given how messed up things got, I figured I needed to get things in order.

As of now, Pen’s Tip will disappear. I’m not going to disappear, but this blog is going to be scattered among the ether.

Game stuff will be divided between SEP (which will host anything of practical value) and Sword’s Edge (which will house all the unfinished ideas and ruminations). Writing articles and fiction related stuff will be over at Sword’s Edge. That is going to be re-branded as my presence in the IntarTubulars. I’m going to throw my personal stuff over on Wordpress. I know lots of people use livejournal, and I’ve even used blogger, but since all my sites run on Wordpress, they seem more like the proper venue.

So, while Pen’s Tip will slowly evaporate, the information will still be out there . . . just like the truth.

And so, I rear my head, sniffle, cough off to the side, and make the announcement that neither myself nor my family have perished of the plague. Thank you antibiotics.

For those interested, bacterial bronchitis does not go away in 10 days. It may not ever go away unless treated. If you have a cold that lasts more than 10 days, see a doctor.

I should be writing right now. I’ve run through my buffer of episodes for Dark Horizons, and now it is on hiatus while I recover. I mean I’m recovered, but I have a lot of catch up to do with the course I’m taking (Management Principles . . . oh joy) and around the house in general.

I’m back at work, though I get the chance to work from home regularly (twice a week). Awesome, right? Except it looks like that won’t last. I have a job offer that is a better position, but in a different ministry, and that means different working conditions for certain. I work in training design right now. This new job is not that, and frankly I won’t be able to talk about it on this blog or anywhere else. No, I did not get my “00” licence. No, I’m not going to say anything more than that.

The thing is, I won’t be bringing work home from this job. I’m going to miss working from home as much as I do right now. I’m also going to miss my boss, my team, and the work I do. I love my job. Honestly, I do. The new job looks awesome cool, but I have no idea about my boss or my team. I expect to love the work, but I don’t know if I’m going to love the job, if you take my meaning.

There’s always the chance that my present employer will offer me something to stay. Were I in the private sector, I would actually expect that. In the public service, it usually doesn’t work that way. I also have one big, huge liability. I don’t speak French.

In my present ministry, my forward advancement is blocked by my lack of French. I’m studying it, but the average length of time to get to the medium level (which really wouldn’t open up much in the way of opportunities) is between 4 and 6 years. Even if I could do it in 2, which some of my Francophone co-workers tell me I could do, that’s 2 years before I can even start thinking of further advancement rather than 2 years before I advance.

Or I could do it right now in a different ministry.

Now, will my present employer make me an offer? I’m not going to hold my breath.

So come March 1 (or possibly later, depending on how quickly this new employer gets me an official type Letter of Offer), I’ll be at a new job.

Change—I both love it and fear it.

Due to family illness, the SEP site is going to be quiet. It’s nothing serious, but the whole family has a pretty bad cold, the kids have fevers, and no one is getting much (if any) sleep.

Once this blows over, I’ll be back.

This is being cross-posted everywhere I can.

I’m betting you’ve all heard about the disaster in Haiti. I’m sure that you would love to be able to positively contribute to helping the people of Haiti. There are lots of ways to do so, from the Red Cross to Worldvision, but I’m going to let you know about a way to donate and get a huge thank you in return.

Go over to RPG Now or Drive-thru RPG and donate $20. In return, you’ll get over $1,000 in RPG PDFs. That includes Albenistan: Election Day, Line Zero, and Cyber-state Avatar Toolkit.

The deal is tremendous, and I applaud all the publishers who have provided gifts. If you use PDFs at all or have any interest in checking out gaming PDFs, go get these now. Even if you are soulless, it’s more than $1,000 in product for $20.

Go donate now and get a huge RPG thank-you in return.

So, listening to music again on the way to work. I started out with a great episode from the BBC’s Thinking Allowed about the concept of the working class, income disparities and self-identification. It was very, very good and very interesting. I’m going to go back to it. But I realized about two minutes into it that my brain was not in the right place.

So I put on music.

My brain was in that place.

I was listening to Metric’s recent album Fantasies. While the thoughts started coming on Satellite Mind, it overflowed into the album “Grow Up and Blow Away” (Two awesome tracks from that are “On the Sly” and “Soft Rock Star”).

Now, this is probably based a lot on the Warren Ellis and Cully Hamner comic Red (which is in the planning stages of becoming a motion picture). It’s basically the story of an assassin happily living in retirement (though haunted by the actions he undertook on behalf of his country). A political appointee to the CIA decides he needs to be removed because if anyone found out, it would be scandal.

I don’t think Mr. Ellis likes politicians.

Anyway, since the character in the comic is the best at what he does (and what he does isn’t very nice), he is able to survive the assassination attempt. He then calls in to his handlers that he is going “Red”–active. And then the shit really gets crazy.

I really like the concept of the person who has paid his/her due not being allowed to rest, and the extremes to which they may be pushed. There is also an aspect of divine retribution in the comic that is very satisfying.

So, in my head, I started to imagine a movie. The story is of an agent named John (not sure of a last name–I was thinking possibly Callow or Caiaphas). He’s now retired (though still relatively young), and the opening is of him making breakfast, enjoying it with his wife and daughter. Then, a cell phone starts ringing. Everyone stops. The daughter is confused. The wife is obviously worried. John is somewhere between annoyed and fearful. He goes to a drawer that has lots of odds and ends, old papers and such, and pulls out the cell phone. He answers.

“This is Six.”

On the other end we hear: “Status active. In motion.” The line goes dead.

John stares at the phone for a moment, then shoves it in his pocket. He looks at his wife, and she knows what this means. His daughter doesn’t.

“I have to go to work,” he tells her.

“But you work from home,” she says.

“Not any more.”

He gives his kid and his wife a kiss, the one with his wife lingering–a good -bye, and the opening montage starts.

With the credits rolling, he’s in some kind of vault. He puts on body armour under his shirt and suit. He straps on a few guns and knives, loads an SMG into a book bag or leather briefcase. We see him emerge from his garage, suit on, briefcase on his shoulder. He smiles and waves to his family, but the smile is forced.

He works for an unnamed branch of the foreign service. In my thoughts, this was Foreign Affairs in Canada. I envisioned the montage following him to work. Taking a bus into Ottawa, along Sussex, t o the Lester B Pearson building. He enters, has the proper ID to swipe himself through security, descends some stairs to a single, secure elevator. When it stops, he goes to a guarded door. He puts his hand in some kind of scanner, his eye up to another, and breathes into a third. The door opens and he is through.

The operations centre is kind of run down. This is high tech with lots of monitors and communications equipment, but this isn’t NORAD. This is small. John’s boss approaches him.

John is pissed. “I’m out.”

The boss is good-natured but firm. “You are never out. You were requested.”

“Fuck them. I did my time. I’m out. Let them do the fucking job for once.”

Turns out, there’s a powerful minister that called him in on this. The minister’s got a grudge. He’s using his influence to fuck with John.

There is a second story intertwined with this one. A Muslim male, Ismail, who had helped facilitate some terrorism in the 1990s, is being released from prison after serving his time. He’s changed. He’s denounced violence as a political means. He’s a convert to nonviolent resistance. He’s a convert to the rule of law.

The problem is that no one believes him–not the police, not the intelligence services, and not the people he used to run with. He wants to be left alone, to start a life, to start making amends, but that doesn’t look like it is going to happen.

Now, I’m hazy on the macguffin and the villain of the piece. I know that John and Ismail end up working together and end up validating each other. I hope John returns to his family in the end, though I can see him possibly dying. Maybe both of them do. Nah, they both survive. There is poetic justice for the dicks of the story and final justice for the real baddies. John disappears with his family, the final shot is them somewhere green and lush rolling hills–maybe Scotland or Ireland.

Does Ismail find his small dream? Does he get to have a family and some peace? I think that’s only fair. Since these stories need some kind of love interest, maybe he finds his. Maybe she is the macguffin–a witness or someone who knows something who must be protected, but who is unwilling to reveal that secret until Ismail convinces her.

Hmmm, that might work.

And, as usual, this has been cast.

John is played by Paul Gross, whom I consider something of a national treasure in Canada. I mean, forget Due South (though that was fun), look at Slings and Arrows, look at Men With Brooms (it wasn’t that bad), and look at Passchendaele.

As for Ismail, I’m torn between two actors I’ve cast in something else. Faran Tahir made a huge impact with a very small role in Star Trek. He’s got the gravitas, for certain. Saïd Taghmaoui, though, has been consistently good through those roles in which I’ve seen him. I don’t know, I guess see who is available and interested.

That’s after, of course, someone bankrolls the film. How about $30 mil? I can write the script for low six figures!

If you are going to read blogs about intelligence and/or military theory and thought, with a dose of current events, I have three that I think you need to read.

Abu Muqawama: Out of the Center for a New American Security (sic . . . yes, sic–I’m Canadian), this blog is nominally hosted by Andrew Exum, but includes the outstanding Londonstani, who has delivered a plethora of very insightful posts.

The Security Crank: Kind of the anti-think tanker. Scathing yet informative, I’ve just started following this blog, and it regularly delivers the Devil’s Advocate goodness. I like reading this one and Abu Muqawama together, as they help to mix up the ideas and interpretations.

War is Boring: This is the blog for the intrepid David Axe, a freelance journalist who seems just about willing to go anywhere and do anything to get a good story. He seems to have a lot of contacts in places like Somalia, that helps him to sound almost prescient in many situations. Most of his posts are pretty short, but they are interspersed by lots of longer articles that find their way into places like World Politics Review and the Washington Times.

So what are you reading that you think I should?

Having done some reading on the Tudor period in England, I naturally cooked up a novel using a lot of the premises. The idea is to set it in a fictional setting based on Tudor England (Jutemark, perhaps?) and focuses on three individuals, let’s call them the Spymaster, the Mayor, and the Outlaw.  Each of these three have reasons to hate the main villain, a powerful peer and follower of the Old Faith, the Duke of Norford.

The story would begin at the death of a young king of the New Faith and the rise of his half-sister, of the Old Faith. It would then jump to that Queen’s passing and the ascension of another half-sister, who would try to moderate her New Faith with the needs of those among her people who still follow the Old Faith. The early reign of this sister would be the main story, as the characters all find themselves in conflict with Norford and in a race to protect the young queen from old enmities and foreign powers.

Sound familiar? Yes, both in history and in media, this story has been told. But it’s the characters, rather than the political events, which I intend will drive the story.

The Spymaster’s story is one of loyalty and speaking truth to power. Through his story, he consistently tells the monarchs his mind and he refuses to make promises he is not certain he can keep. His actions make him invaluable to the monarchy.  He is able to do this because he has nothing to lose but his life. As the story progresses, he becomes more and more powerful. He is a man of his word and amasses a collection of talented and sometimes dangerous adherents, whom he uses to advance the interests of the crown.  He is an enemy of Norford simply because he does have such a strong influence on the crown, and his professed New Faith.

The Mayor’s story is one of compromise and fear of government. The Mayor also gains political power through the story, but constantly avoids using it to advance the New Faith. He will accept whatever faith the monarch proclaims and rarely (except for one instance) chooses faith over expediency. He has a family, and fear of what might happen to them makes him flexible. He shows that good men sometimes do nothing, but he is not condemned for this.  His one instance of opposition to authority relates to warning and allowing his servants (of the New Faith) to escape the counter-reformation, spearheaded by Norford. This puts the Mayor at odds with Norford.

The Outlaw’s story is one of revenge and the illusion of religion. His uncle, a good and honourable man, becomes a political opponent of Norford and so is silenced. Even though the Outlaw and his family strictly follow the Old Faith, Norford’s desire for power and wealth make him blind to religion, save when it suits his own purposes. The Outlaw’s story weaves in and out of the Spymaster’s and the Mayor’s, finally linking all three. The Outlaw also has nothing to lose, and may actively wish to spend his life in an effort to gain his revenge–as once that revenge is achieved, for what does he live?

This is the first time, for me, that part of the outline of a story includes themes that I see arising from the plot. The plot came first–a plot that is a little intricate and would take up too much space, though I may relate it at a later date, if this project moves forward. Still, as I examined the story and the characters’ roles, certain themes became obvious to me. I think this can only help to focus my writing. The pit-fall, though, is that it might stymie character growth. If the Spymaster is about loyalty and truth to power, what does he grow into? Is his growth within these themes, or does it lead him beyond these, and into something else?

Right now, the plot as developed doesn’t really answer those questions. I would expect they would be answered in the telling of the story. Outlines are good for giving me direction, but I often go off course during the writing, and find little gems I never anticipated.

Unfortunately, my Viking True20 campaign ended without a real conclusion. I’m glad, though, that I got the chance to run it. One of the reasons is that I learned a heck of a lot about the Varangian trade route through Russia to Byzantium. I also learned a lot about Viking history and culture.

I recently finished a spate of reading and listening regarding Roman history, probably sparked by the absolutely awesome podcast, the History of Rome. If you like history and/or Rome, you will love this podcast.

So, of course, I have the bug to run a Roman campaign.

I’d set my Roman campaign in a counter-Earth, one in which magic exists, and because of it, the Etruscans overcame the Romans and took their place in history. Just as the Romans adapted much of Etruscan culture to suit them, on this counter-Earth, the Etruscans adapted the Roman ethos to their own culture, and this has allowed them to dominate the Mediterranean world, just as Rome had.

It’s really just an excuse not to hew as closely to history as I did in my Viking campaign.

Here’s a cut scene, which would occur before the adventure. If I do any more work for this, I’ll likely post it on SEP, as that is where all my gaming stuff is supposed to go. Right now, it’s only fiction, so it fits here.

Welcome to the Empire of Alba Longa:

Valens wore a simple tunic and breeches, with a heavy coat and cloak over these. The early mornings cut like winter here on the river. Camp Prefect Aulus Pullo watched his commander, the Legate of the Ironclads and the Marshall for the Province of Moesia, far east of the capital. Valens was no shivering son of wealth, some senator’s whelp playing at soldier. This man had been a legionary, and risen through the ranks. This man knew marching in the mud in full gear. This man knew standing shoulder-to-shoulder against the enemy.

This man, Pullo respected.

A painted map of the province and the areas surrounding it covered the table at which Marshall Valens and Prefect Pullo stood.

“What did Ostios have to report?” Valens did not look up from the map when he spoke.

Ostios: their spy in the lands of the barbarians across the river. Pullo imagined that Valens stared hard at the word “Roxolani” scrawled in red chalk over the lands north, a day or two’s hard riding from their fortress at Durostorum.

“The barbarians are moving south, pressing against the settlements north of the Ister.” Pullo tapped the region bordered by blue chalk directly across the Ister River from Durostorum. “So far, no violence. No one has been removed from their land. Ostios believes, and I agree with him, that it won’t be long. The Roxolani have no love for farmers, and no love for us.”

Valens looked up then, a sly smile on his face. “Come now, Pullo, we’re all friends. Haven’t they signed treaties? Didn’t the one who claims to be their king, that fat pimple Azes, give his word to respect the interests of the Dictator?” A chuckle, low and without humour, rippled from Valens. “Does my cynicism show?”

Pullo didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. Valens often tried to draw him out. The Marshall liked to have an easy-going relationship with his officers. Pullo, though, respected the office as much as the man. A camp prefect didn’t share jokes with his legate.

Valens didn’t show any offence at Pullo’s silence. He never did. “So, war is it?”

“Azes of the Ciambrani is at Silestoros with a small bodyguard.” Pullo pointed to the white ‘X’ which marked the trade village, just at the blue border between the settled lands under Imperial protection and the lands of the Roxolani. “Ostios has word that they are trying to cut some kind of deal with the locals. I think he is going to hire himself off as a mercenary.”

“Good luck.” Valens stepped away from the map. He took up his goblet of mulled wine and sat in a camp chair off to the side. No servants attended him. None ever did. This man was a soldier. “What of the auxiliaries? Many of them are Sarmatians, some of them could even be Roxolani.”

Pullo stiffened at even an off-hand hint that the auxiliaries might be anything other than totally steadfast. “The auxiliaries are soldiers, sir. They have made their oaths. Those with us here were with us in Belgica. They fought the Teutons at our side. They are auxiliaries now, not Sarmatians.”

A pregnant pause followed. Valens took a sip of his wine. He swallowed loudly. “You know the prefect of the auxiliaries?”

“Yes, sir. Marcus Rufius. I marched with him. His father was a Teuton, but Marcus is a citizen.”

Valens tapped his chin with a finger. “Rufius was a centurion when I commanded the Flavia Felix legion. I like him. Good. We may need some of his auxiliaries.”

Pullo frowned. “For?”

“Reconnaissance,” said Valens. “Ostios has always been truthful with us, but there is something about the man that worries me. I want some of my men over there. I want my exploratores over there, looking over Aves and his people. I want to know who the real power in the Roxolani is. I want to know what is driving the Roxolani south. I need to know if we are looking at another war.”

“Understood, sir.”

“I need special men, mind you.” Valens leaned forward on his chair, intent. “This will be more than simple scouting. I need smart men, capable men, devious men. I don’t need legionaries, necessarily, if you take my meaning.”

“I believe I do, sir.” This time, Pullo allowed a tight grin to crease his face. “I believe I do.”

Valens considered the contents of his cup. “And you already have some men in mind who would fit our bill?”

And Pullo’s tight grin turned into a smile. “Oh, I believe so, sir.”

I’ve spouted off before about my mercenary philosophy for writing. I know that there are those out there on both sides of that arguement. That doesn’t matter, because this is my house, so I win.

BOO-YAH!

Here’s something you need to consider when you are looking to submit to that anthology that only offers $10 and a contributor’s copy (or two, if very generous)—this is a direct statement about the editor/publisher’s expectation for return. If they are only willing to pay $10 for the stories they publish, they don’t expect to sell too many copies. If they don’t have faith in themselves, why should you?

Oh, and, if you are willing to sell your stuff for $10, what does that say of your faith in yourself?

I am certain that there are many, many editors out there, just doing it for the love, wanting to share fiction in a genre that they love with others. I got two things to say about that.

1) An e-zine is free (or can be, because if you want to take over Sword’s Edge and make it a real e-zine again, you’re welcome to it), so if you are doing it for the love, do it for the love and for free.

2) The reason you aren’t doing it as an e-zine is because you want the satisfaction of having a printed copy in your hand. Which is fine, I understand that, but don’t expect me to subsidize your desire. Why don’t you go all out and actually pay professional rates, get professional stories, and publish something of which you can really be proud? Because that would cost too much? Again, don’t expect me to subsidize your desire and also please see 1).

Sorry, I just get really sick of seeing this bullshit and knowing people are still happy to submit to these markets (and these are people whose work really deserves pro rates . . . well, some of them).

If you are doing it for the love, I can get behind that, but then explain again why a free e-zine doesn’t do it for you.

Yes, that was a rant.

Yes, I am a dick.

Yes, you may go about your business now.