Dungeons and Dragons (And Me): Part Four

Fourth Edition Is Here, Everybody Cheer  I Need A Beer
Although I have no hard evidence to back this up, anecdotal evidence seems to imply that D&D Fourth Edition (or D&D 4E for short) was without a doubt the most divisive version of the game ever put out. Gamers as a whole are resistant to change, but this one really polarized players. Some loved it; many hated it.

Gamers express polite displeasure at 4th Edition.

What most people seem to agree on is that Wizards came out with 4E in order to lure in the World of Warcraft crowd. Rules were streamlined, things were dropped out, new destructive abilities were dished out, making for a game that was actually a very good miniatures system; but the soul of the game had been gutted. It was the gaming equivalent of the Dawn of the Dead remake: a good product, but it failed to capture the essence of the original and what made the original so great.

So, in essence, Wizards was taking a gamble here by trying to appeal to the people who had dismissed paper and dice role-playing games in favor of online gaming, while simultaneously alienating the loyal RPG fan base. People like yours truly.

Pathfinder To The Rescue
Wizards took D&D 3.0/3.5 and made it an Open Gaming License. Paizo Publishing, which if you remember took over Dungeon and Dragon magazines, took the rules system, really cleaned it up nicely, added some of their own touches, and released it as Pathfinder.

Now, this little bit here is not opinion: Pathfinder eventually ended up dominating D&D 4E sales-wise. One may possibly infer from this that Pathfinder was more like Dungeons and Dragons than Dungeons and Dragons itself was.

The Return Of Hawkhaven
In the past, it's been customary for TSR/Wizards to shake up the Forgotten Realms every time a new version of D&D comes out. I got my hands on the Forgotten Realms for 4E and eagerly looked to see what changes they had done. After the screaming stopped, I concluded that they had gone too far, changed too much, and that many of the changes quite frankly stank out loud.

We had already decided to jump to Pathfinder, while still holding on to some concepts from D&D 3.5. But what to do about the campaign world? I know we could have kept the old Forgotten Realms, but there's something about gaming in a "current" setting that just makes you feel more a part of the overall game; it's hard to explain. But the changes had me too pissed to want to stick with the Realms.

"This is crap," I muttered. "Hell, I could put together a better setting than this!"

At this point, choose the revelation bit that suits you best:

1. The sound of a needle scratching across a record while I look up with wide-eyed realization.
2. Rowan Atkinson as Blackadder saying "Hang on.....!"
3. Groo from Despicable Me saying "Light buuuuulb!"

Not only could I put together a better setting, I had done so already! I dashed downstairs to the cellar, past the laundry stuff, the haunt props, and the collection of litter boxes known as Cat Poop Alley, to the back of the cellar, where all of my gaming stuff lay in boxes and plastic storage tubs. All of it. As in, 32 years' worth.

Hey! Leave us out of this!

We're talking every edition of D&D (except 4th), scads of other gaming systems, a briefcase with every character sheet from the late 70's to mid 80's, even the people who were one-shot players, and also my big collection of lead gaming miniatures (please, no one call the EPA, ok?). And one other box: Hawkhaven. All of the gaming material. The old dungeons, the old timelines, the non-player characters, everything. Well, except for the big map I used to have (and of course the one thing I really wanted above all else!). But no worries, I could reconstruct it from memory! It was only about 30 years ago, right? I got this!

After I got the material together I brought it upstairs and began working like a man insane. OK, well, maybe I'm insane anyway, but whatever. Since I had learned so much in the decades since I last ran my old campaign, I had to retool it and change a lot of things. Added a lot of things, too! I winced as I read some of the stuff I had actually presented with a straight face 35 years ago. I toned things down, but also added some stuff that should have always been there.

One of the big things that definitely needed changing was the timeline. I wanted to avoid the possibility of any of our veteran players wanting to play their old AD&D characters, once converted to Pathfinder of course So I pushed the timeline a bit; like over 2,000 years! All the old characters, all of their strongholds and castles, all of it, is gone. The old empire that had been created at that time of our first campaign as a beacon of good and law had collapsed centuries ago. Some of the old characters' names and deeds live on in what's now legends and outright myths. Most, however, have been forgotten.

This was the tabula rasa that I used to bring in a new group into what I like to call Hawkhaven 2.0. And on May 1, 2010, we began that new campaign. Hawkhaven was reborn!!

Our Group Today

Some of our gamers. My two sons are the first and second
guys on the left, back row. Yours truly has the rule book.

The group today consists of a roster of fourteen players, not counting Yours Truly. Not all of them show up at the same time, thanks to real-life obligations, so we usually average about two-thirds attendance. It works perfectly. The group is made up of Carol and my two sons (both daughters have bowed out, though our youngest, Rhiannon's, boyfriend is intrigued about D&D and wants to learn more; mwahaha), a bunch of veterans of past games, at least one player from The Beginning, a returned player from the Second Schism, and two friends who we met and got to know from our haunter hobby. It's quite a cross-section of people, and the variety makes it all the more fun. All ages, all walks of life.

Of course, everyday obligations have cut into playing time, and scheduling an every other week game was proving to be problematic. Carol suggested that we choose just one Saturday a month, but make it an all-day affair. Play from one in the afternoon till about nine or ten PM. When you get right down to it, that's about two sessions worth of net playing time.

Another one, this time with my Better Half, holding
the Necronomicon

And so, that's what we do. People bring munchies and beer, and they can come over as early as an hour before and hang out, work on characters, or just schmooze. We start at one (more or less), play till about six, order out for food and take about a half hour break, then resume till anywhere from 930 to 1000.

We're on our third batch of Hawkhaven characters. Traditionally, we play one campaign for about a year, maybe a little more, then create a new group of characters in the same setting, but a different locale, and do another adventure. After all, when the characters get too powerful, things lose a little of the tension and thrill of danger. Then, every so often, taking a page from what I used to do with the old Forgotten Realms campaigns, I have a Great Crisis that lets people each select one character from the various campaigns we've played thus far and play them in a combined adventure.

People from the Old Days coming into our campaign would still recognize a lot of what we do. A lot of terms like Initiative, Critical Hit, Fumble, all of that is still there. There's just a better D&D in place now, with rules that cover actions that were not allowed in the past because there was no way to adjudicate them (e/g/ "What do you mean I can't take a swing at that bad guy who's walking right by me? So what if I already took my turn!? HE'S RIGHT THERE!"). People can still have their characters select God as their deity; I simply pulled a Narnia and changed His name on this world to Adonai, the big Kahuna of Lawful Good gods.

Oh, yeah...and there's also cats. And definitely more beer.

As for the old characters, yes, they're all dead and gone, but Easter eggs abound. One of the Kevins in our group, the friend who married Carol and I, played Nahac, a Gnome in the bad old days, and that character is now revered as a Gnomish folk hero among the race, a sort of Gnomish George Washington. Another friend, also called Kevin, played a character called Kedar, one of the most enduring (and frustrating) anti-heroes in the old campaign. Nowadays, he's morphed into a almost-immortal Tiefling (part human, part evil outsider), and still exists on a layer of Hell, having carved out his own little fiefdom. We even had a character ascend to sainthood. Hooday, an annoying gnome with a blue mohawk and a hideous laugh, is the only known Gnomish saint. Here is the player who played him. A classic case of D&Der makes good, goes to Hollywood and becomes a writer and producer.

Last year, the players actually stumbled upon the ruins of Manderley, the stronghold of Toriane and Aragorn, two characters from that very first group of five players I ran back in the late 70's. Yes, Manderley, as in from "Rebecca". And did I happen to mention that our old campaign also had a Castle Roogna, and a kingdom of Leah? Had. Past tense. All gone now.

And as for that character of mine, Noro, the elvish tavern boy who became my first adventuring character, well, he survived all of the dungeons and indignities that insane DMs like Joe could throw at him, and in the waning days of the old Hawkhaven campaign, he organized all of the elves in the general campaign area, and led them on a westward march to set up a forest kingdom, away from the eyes of so-called humanity (yeah, ok, I was heavily under the influence of Tolkien). Twenty-three centuries later, the now old elf stepped down from his throne in favor of his grandson and, with a final wave and a wink, wandered off along with his faithful black cat familiar into the deepest forests of the elvish kingdom of Hanael to his final, ultimate rest.

At least, that's what the stories say. No bodies have ever been found... Kind of makes one wonder.

Conventional Thinking, Part 2

Sometimes, Carol runs Gaslight Cthulhu

A bunch of players in my group and I attended ConnCon (held, appropriately enough, in Connecticut. Duh) for many years. I stopped going after 2000, having lost interest in it. I haven't been to GenCon since it moved to Indianapolis, and have vowed to make it out there at least once, provided I get the time and money together, and am sure that my immediate reaction to every setback there won't be "It was better in Milwaukee". Hey, I'm aware of my limitations, you know?

These days, the only gaming convention I do is OGC, held in Nashua itself in the middle of the summer. Every year, in my role as de facto special guest, I run multiple rounds of classic 1920's Call of Cthulhu. I also do my yearly skewering of modern culture by running multiple rounds of Paranoia, wherein I put my players through the wringer, including making them stand in a chorus line and sing show tunes.

Attention, Citizen! You are about to play Paranoia!
Please check your dignity at the door! Thank you!

The Future of D&D
This is all speculation, but here's what my gamer and marketing instincts tell me regarding the upcoming new system. Thanks to 4E, Wizards lost a lot of people to either Pathfinder or even to retro version gaming. D & D Next, aka 5th Edition, aka D&D: The Apology, is supposed to be an amalgam of everything awesome from the first four versions.

Problem is, and I'm really trying to be objective about this, who determines "awesome"? Oh, wait. They're depending on feedback from the gaming public. Because all gamers agree on what's awesome, right? Right?

I don't know. It may work. But I see the law of decreased marginal utility kicking in, or perhaps the law of diminishing returns. One of those, anyway. Every successive version of the game released results in fewer people playing it because there is a greater number of previous versions they can cling to. In other words, while I see D&D Next definitely doing better than 4E, I think the damage has already been done. And do people really want to sink more money into yet another version?

Throw in there the continued success of Pathfinder, the proliferation of third party companies, the way the

Doooooooooom!!!!!

Internet and social media make it easy to create and release new original material, and I forecast doom for the corporate approach to D&D.

Wouldn't it be a riot if someday D&D went back to its roots, a game put out by a small group of dedicated people operating out of someone's house? Would that really be so bad?

The Future Of Me
What can I say? Life is good. We game once a month, and things are great. I freelance still, but not in the gaming world (hint: the real world pays WAY better than the gaming industry). I have a "regular" job as an editor in a non-gaming field. Carol and I are thick as thieves. Rhiannon, the youngest, lives with us. The other three, Adrienne, John, and Chris are now in various stages of living adult lives. My ex and I have a good relationship as well, and she comes up for some of our parties and sometimes for Thanksgiving. She and Carol have always gotten along, and it's nice that we can all get together every so often as one big, strange, House of Terra family unit.

Some church-going folk are still convinced that D&D
is the Devil's screwdriver, or something like that

And although my experiences with churches have left me still quite gun-shy, I know it's not an "if" but rather a "when" we return to one. It's just a matter of finding a church that won't string us up for enjoying gaming, horror movies, and Halloween. In the meantime, my faith has healed up nicely, though my dogma no longer leans to the conservative side; more like moderation, with a healthy dose of "Hey, maybe people out there should just mind their own damn business and tend to their own lives." Yeah, a radical concept, I know.


Will I keep gaming? Sure, why not? I recall, back in Seekers, an exasperated critic of role-playing asking me "What will you do when you're 50!?" My reply was something along the lines of "I'll be 30 years older than I am now, and still playing D&D!" God willing, I have a few more decades of this.

Decades. Man, that's mind-boggling with a side order of awesome. I think one of the reasons I put this blog series together, other than being inspired by the 40th anniversary of D&D, was indirectly a way to sort of take stock of where I've come from and where I am, and plot out what I hope is the second half, the second round, of the adventure.

Sure, my zeal for the game has moderated somewhat, and I'm into a lot of other stuff as well, but gaming is still my number one pastime. Some people may look askance at that, but let me tell you: I've also been running since 1980 (and boy are my legs tired! Ba-doom!), and yet no one considers it strange. So why should gaming be any different?

And when the Ultimate DM decides that I failed my Fortitude save for the last time, well, it will have been a good run. Will any of my kids follow in my footsteps and be a DM? Hard to tell. I do know that my younger son, Chris, has begun running some of his friends at UMass through some Pathfinder stuff, and used some maps copied from Hawkhaven as a setting. Hmm, a bunch of college kids getting together to roll dice and play role-playing games. Where have I heard THAT one before? So yeah, there's hope that it won't end with me, after all.

Do you know the one thing I'd love to see happen gaming-wise before I go? I'd LOVE to see a huge game, where the current group of gamers meets a collection of some of the more notable veterans of yesteryear for a Great Crisis to end all Great Crises. Sure, it'd be disorganized and chaotic (not to mention freaking crowded!) and who knows how much we'd really get done. But wow. The role-playing opportunities alone would make it worth it. Of course, since both groups are separated by several millennia, there'd have to be some plot device that somehow spans the years and brings them together, some wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey string pulling.

What Have I Learned From D&D So Far?
When you defend D&D as often enough as I have, you practically memorize the litany of benefits of the game: it teaches you math, it encourages reading and fosters comprehension, it exercises your imagination, it builds teamwork. These may sound cliche, but they're all true.

Thanks to D&D, I've been made aware of so many fine fantasy series that I would have otherwise overlooked. Because of the hobby and my role as a freelancer, my writing skills have been sharpened with practice, and by becoming an expert in role-playing, I've also gotten turned on to other aspects of the geek sub-culture. Thanks to the game, I got my foot in the door to become a published author and freelancer.

As a Dungeon Master, my skills at organization and planning have increased, and when I create a dungeon, my ability to anticipate what others may do has subsequently been sharpened.

And sometimes, those friends fly in from Australia
for a pint at the Peddler's Daughter

Thanks to D&D, I've met some absolutely amazing people, many who've gone from simply being players to becoming friends. And thanks to social media, I can actually stay in contact with them.

I met the love of my life thanks to this crazy game. And the game helped me forge some real strong enduring bonds with all four of my kids. Those two reasons alone make all of the hassles, all of the pains, all of the arguments, disappointments and grudges, more than well worth it.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg. Although my games are not morally preachy, there's little surprise in seeing that many of my adventures do turn out to be little morality plays, with good rising up to fight evil. I've learned that being good is not simply the absence of evil, but rather means actively going out there and standing up for what is right, for helping people, for resisting greed and corruption. D&D has shown me that it's possible to take a stand against wrong, and fight back, and with trustworthy dedicated friends working with you, it's a struggle you don't have to engage in alone. And although there's no guarantee that you will win every time, there's always hope, a fighting chance.

To me, D&D is the perfect place to illustrate the Edmund Burke quote: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

Sure, not everyone plays a squeaky clean character, nor should they; it would get boring. A little mischief, a little chaos, can be refreshing. But when you get a group of people together who have different ideas on what to do and how to do it, and yet get them to move as one, that's an accomplishment worth being proud of.

I've also learned that some of the sweetest victories aren't the ones won by the sword, but by words. After all, it's far better to reform an enemy into a friend than to simply destroy him.

One of the most asked questions by people who have little to no idea about the game is, "How do you win?" You don't win. Its an ongoing struggle, filled with victories and setbacks. Just like life. And the decisions you make, the actions you take, have repercussions later down the road. You fight, you triumph, you become stronger through your victory, then you roll up your sleeves and get ready for the next challenge. Or if you lose, you learn from your mistakes, get up off the ground, brush yourself off, and try again.

All the while, you work to improve yourself, to become better than you  were the day before. You're always striving to be stronger, wiser, more capable. And even if you come up short sometimes, it's the effort that exalts you.

And, of course, D&D has shown me that there's a time and a place for everything, and that includes hefting a tankard of ale in each hand, calmly surveying the tavern brawl in front of you, yelling "Cowabunga!", and jumping head-first into the fray, consequences be damned.

Yes...

Does it surprise anyone who knows me and plays the game to realize that my favorite class is the Paladin, and my favorite race are Gnomes? No, I didn't think so.

Here's my advice to you, to all of you, whether you play or not. Don't give up on the things that bring you joy simply because others may think you're too old. Keep at it. Cheer like an idiot every time Luke Skywalker gets that one in a million shot on the Death Star. Cry like a baby every time you see the Spock death scene in the real Wrath of Khan movie. Play video games. Play role-playing games. Dress up for Halloween. Dress up for not Halloween. Do the Snoopy dance when you watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas". Don't let anyone dictate to you how long you should pursue your hobbies, interests, and avocations. The only one fit to make that sort of judgement is YOU.

Be childlike, but not childish. Do right by your loved ones, your country, your faith, and carry out your responsibilities to the best of your abilities. Then have fun. Have a lot of fun. And don't let the miserable people drag you down to their level. Leave the sticks in the mud behind while you rush off to play Kick-the-Can. Cue Rod Serling.

Never consider yourself too old to learn something new, or perhaps revisit an idea that you've rejected before. And by all means, read. Read everything. Read books, game manuals, articles, blogs, cereal boxes, magazines, newspapers. Use your brain, use your imagination.

Yes, that's what D&D has done for and to me. That's what it taught me. May your passion, your mania, do the same for you.

Truer words were never spoken...

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a few dungeon levels I need to put some finishing touches on. Those player character asses won't kick themselves, despite the amusing visual.

God bless, live long and prosper, and 'till swords part.

Dungeons and Dragons (And Me): Part Three

When we last left our intrepid hero and the hobby as a whole, we were transitioning, more or less, from the Awesome Eighties to the Nihilistic Nineties. Let's get started, shall we?

This is Pauly Shore. He was popular in the 90s. This is
actual evidence that the decade blew.

My Writing Career
Now with two kids under the roof, life at home was getting even more interesting. I was writing for TSR, West End Games, Mayfair Games, FASA, and Flying Buffalo. My freelance work was at an all-time high, and my name was definitely out there in the gaming community.  While I wasn't an A or B lister in the gaming world, I was still a known quantity, and best as I can piece together, had a good, respectable reputation.

As a freelancer and a frequent fixture at GenCon, especially at the RPGA tournaments, I had the pleasure of making friends with a lot of amazing people that I would otherwise never have met. Fortunately, through the miracle (snort!) of Facebook, I'm still in contact with them.

One freelancing high-water mark was being picked to be one of the guests at Gen Con one year, and was included on a panel at a seminar.  I also ended up as a Guest of Honor at Contrary, a local gaming convention in Springfield, Mass. Nowadays, I'm sort of a perpetual featured guest at OGC, another local gaming convention, right here in Nashua. But I have a sense of perspective about the whole thing, and have often compared it to the line from the movie "To Be Or Not To Be", where that great actor Frederick Bronski announces that he's world-famous, in Poland. That's me; world-famous in Poland, and I'm cool with that.

But there was something else that Gen Con brought into my life.

Enter: Carol!

Here's where the RPGA used to have their Gen Con
tournaments, back when the RPGA was awesome.

I had written and ran a Call of Cthulhu scenario entitled "Wild Weekend at Turner Junction" for the RPGA, and ran it at Gen Con 25 in 1992. The scenario was well received, and two people were particularly impressed by it: Carol and her then-boyfriend. They both wanted to meet the author, so an RPGA staff member arranged it and soon I was on the steps of MECCA (Milwaukee Exposition and Convention Center Auditorium), talking with this affable guy and his very bright, knockout girlfriend. Now, I was married at the time, but that didn't stop me from coming to the realization that yes, some extremely stunning women were gamers too.

When I found out that this charming couple (both were knowledgeable about gaming and about Cthulhu in particular) were also from Massachusetts, I invited them into my campaign back home.

As time went on, Carol's boyfriend ended up being a regular, Carol not so much, but I had forged and maintained a friendship with both of them, even after they broke up. Contact with Carol was limited to an occasional phone call, or a chance "Hey how you doing, how's life, okay seeya" run-in at local gaming conventions like ConnCon.

An Empty Chair At The Table
In the early 90's, I was fortunate to make the acquaintance of a gamer via this newfangled thing called gaming bulletin boards on something known as the In-ter-net. It was via this online service called GEnie, and you had to plug your computer into a modem, and connect the modem to a phone line, and...well...hey you kids, get off my lawn!

Anyways, I had the pleasure to meet a man named Martin who was a gamer in the Boston area. He joined our gaming group, and he was one of the nicest, most articulate, thoughtful, just all around decent people I had ever met. Unfortunately, one day, he up and moved away. Turns out that he had contracted pneumonia as a result of HIV, and had gone home to his family to die. He passed away in 1994.

Exit TSR, Hello Wizards Of The Coast
In 1996, TSR had been hit hard with some financial setbacks, to the point where they couldn't even pay the company that handled their products' printing and shipping. With no money in reserves, no means of printing more products to generate capital, the company ended up getting sold to Wizards of the Coast, the makers of the Magic: The Gathering card game, in 1997.

Needless to say (but let's say it anyway), freelancing opportunities dried up. In fact, most role-playing game companies were undergoing hard times, and some blame the rise of the collectible card game hobby (as referenced by the aforementioned Magic).

Trivia: I never did end up getting my authors' copies for my last TSR project, Four From Cormyr.

But TSR wasn't the only thing crashing and burning.

The End Of A Marriage

My marriage was over, I had a beard, Chris' sneakers had
Velcro. It was a dark time all around.

For reasons of confidentiality and the fact that it's no one's damn business, I'm not going into the gory details about the collapse of my first marriage. Suffice to say, we married too young and too quickly, and grew into two very different people as time went on, and leave it at that.

After a few stupid actions on my part, I moved out of the house and moved into an apartment in the same town, so I could be close to my kids. You know how people who know both partners in a marriage feel odd when the couple splits up? Well, the gaming group underwent the same awkward transition. Some stayed with the campaign when it resumed after a brief hiatus. Others, feeling like they should be supporting my soon to be ex, stayed away.

My kids stayed over every other weekend, and since the two oldest, Adrienne and John, gamed, they played in my campaign. Chris was still too young, but he enjoyed sitting in the corner and watching, until he gradually nodded off to sleep and I put him to bed. It was something we all liked and had in common, so it helped us to bond more, despite the separation.

Those D&D games with my kids and friends was something that kept me sane and grounded. It was a little bit of the old routine, some normalcy, still in place, and I latched onto that as I struggled to get my head together and figure things out. At the risk of descending into cliche, it was a dark time, but my damaged faith, my kids, and certain of my gaming friends kept me from jumping the rails completely.

Where "Monopoly" Is More Than Just A Game Title
In 1999, game colossus Hasbro bought Wizards of the Coast. Inevitably, the changes began. The magazines Dragon, Dungeon, and Polyhedron were sourced out to Paizo Publishing. Gen Con was sold to Peter Adkison, founder of Wizards of the Coast, and GenCon was moved to Indianapolis in 2003.

Third Edition Comes Out
Wizards of the Coast released D&D version 3.0 in 2000. This was a radical rebuilding of the game. Gone was the venerable acronym THAC0 (To Hit Armor Class 0). Now, Armor Class was a difficulty number that the attacker had to hit. Now, any race could be any class, all past restrictions were gone, and that included level restrictions. Saving throws were simplified, non-weapon proficiencies went away, replaced by actual skills. Feats, special abilities for player characters, were introduced as well. It was also now easier to multi-class. Even initiative had been cleaned up.

This was the breath of fresh air that D&D needed. Oh yes, that was the other thing: there was no longer Basic and Advanced D&D. It was now just D&D.

Carol Returns
Carol and I began dating in August of 2000, and I invited her into our Forgotten Realms campaign, since after all, she was in fact a gamer, so why not? Unfortunately, this caused another gamer schism, as her ex-boyfriend didn't want to game in the same group, and I was accused of thinking with the "other" head. So he and his girlfriend left, some other folks left as well, and once again, the group seemed dead in the water. And on top of this, Carol and I weren't on speaking terms anymore with her ex and his girlfriend, a girlfriend who actually was an ex girlfriend of mine. Hey, who needs to watch a soap opera when you can live in one?

In retrospect, the schism was inevitable. It was not a happy gaming group by the late 90's. There was a lot of friction between people, and it seemed that every other week I was being told that I had to get rid of one player or another, or else other players were going to walk. The thing that threw me for a loop was, in the 12 years of gaming that I had done up to that point, I had never seen such a profound breakup of a group before. I didn't know then, nor do I know now, if such a thing is more commonplace elsewhere.

But a friend from work named Jason had an entire group of people who were looking for a game, since he had just wrapped up a campaign with them, and before you could say "roll for initiative", I had acquired five new players, which then got supplemented by an additional four players a few months later, people who were also connected in one way or another with Jason's circle of friends. A revitalized group, a new girlfriend, a newer better edition of D&D; I was back!

The Kingdoms Of Kalamar
KenzerCo, the company that produced the Knights of the Dinner Table comic book and the Hackmaster RPG, also came out with their own D&D 3.0 compatible campaign world called Kingdoms of Kalamar (known in some circles as "Kingdoms of Kill 'Em All", for the setting's alleged difficulty; personally I never felt that way but hey).

I ended up doing some freelance writing for them, so the group switched from Forgotten Realms to Kalamar, and once again the group's number swelled to about fifteen. The more the merrier, eh?

Eventually, though, we switched back to Forgotten Realms. It was just more fun.

My freelancing for KenzerCo signaled the beginning of the end of my freelance gaming days. The last product I ended up doing was part of a gaming book for Wizard of the Coast's Star Wars role-playing game. Specifically, it was called Coruscant and the Core Worlds, released in 2003.

Oh, and speaking of Star Wars role-playing, West End Games had come out with a d6 version of Star Wars a few years prior to Wizards acquiring the license rights. I did a bunch of Star Wars products for West End, including a supplement called Elrood Sector. Imagine my surprise when I found Elrood Sector used in a whole bunch of products afterward. Here's the entry for Elrood Sector. Just so you know, if the new Star Wars movies ever make mention of Elrood Sector, you can jump up, point at the screen, and loudly declare "I know who came up with that!". You'll probably get booted out (or in certain areas of the country, shot), but you CAN do this.

Remarriage

Mr and Mrs T.

Carol and I got married in September 2002, in a surprise ceremony at our house, on the same day as our scheduled game. We "just so happened" to have a marriage license, my best friend Larry "just so happened" to be visiting and performed for the second (and final!) time the duties of Best Man, we "just so happened" to have my old friend Kevin McBride, a pastor at a church in Raymond, NH, to administer the vows, and we "just so happened" to have a wedding cake from Frederick's Bakery.

After the ceremony and the cake, we took up dice and gamed. And of course, that's one of the few times where I managed to kill Carol's character. Yeahhh. Nice timing there, John!

Dungeons and Dragons 3.5
In 2003, Wizards of the Coast released an updated version of Third Edition. Since it wasn't a fully new version, it was billed as D&D 3.5. For the life of me, I'm not sure why they did this, or more specifically, why they needed to do this. Was 3.0 not play-tested enough? Sure, 3.5 represented a dramatic improvement but still. There were many guesses and theories as to why, but if I had to guess, I'd go with "insufficient play-testing". That wouldn't have happened if my group had reprised their roles as play-testers, you know! Because we were just that awesome. Just saying...

What The...ANOTHER Schism!!?!?

Oh, come on! Even I only had ONE schism, and it was over
something way more important than gaming!

Sometimes, it seems that the biggest tempests in a teapot begin with the most innocuous of circumstances or innocent phrases. One of the players in my group took offense at how I praised her character. I had given her the maximum role-playing award at the end of a session, but her nose was out of joint because I didn't specifically call attention to another accomplishment of hers. Something like that, anyways. She remained pissed despite a few attempts reconciliation, so she, her boyfriend, and a goodly number of those new people, who knew her longer and better than they knew me and felt they should support her or something like that, left the game. In fact, of the ten people directly or indirectly part of Jason's contingent, only two stayed. In the wake of this, Carol and I are no longer on speaking terms with this woman and her significant other. But the damage was done, and the group was once again wrecked.

Another Empty Chair At The Table
A young friend of mine who I had known since infancy and who was starting to game with us died suddenly.  Even as a baby, he was such an awesome kid, and in fact it was his good behavior as a baby that indirectly convinced me that reproducing was something to consider after all. He is still profoundly missed.

What A Crappy Decade (Give Or Take A Few Years)

Still not convinced that the 90's stunk?
This is Fred Durst. I rest my case.

 Let's face it, with a few bright exceptions, the 90's and first few years of the Aughts sucked hard, with 2003 being particularly nasty.

I don't know what this says about D&D that out of all the people that are or ever have been in my life, there are only four with which there is a mutual "persona non grata" situation existing, and it had to do either directly with the hobby, or the hobby played a deciding role in it. And although Carol and I would certainly change the whole silent treatment deal if approached, the other parties don't want it, so this is where things remain.

Things Get Better
Anyway, our group persevered, and a new group arose from the ashes, which included Carol, all three of my kids, a bunch of my friends including the two survivors from the big breakup, and a few new folks as well, people who we now value as friends. We kept at the Forgotten Realms, and D&D 3.5 was our game of choice.

By the mid-Aught's, things were finally stabilizing and getting better. We gamed every other week, still coinciding with the weekend visits from the kids, though this was starting to become irrelevant, as my kids were getting to legal age, and could visit whenever they wanted (and even drive themselves!). In 2006, Carol, Rhiannon and I moved from our apartment in Nashua to a house that we bought, also in Nashua. The House of Terra had been reborn!

In early 2007, there was concern and rumors that Wizards of the Coast was going to abandon D&D 3.5 and release a new version. Although I can't swear to this so take it with a grain of salt, I seem to recall reading word (or maybe it was something I heard) from Wizards that there was nothing to worry about; D&D 3.5 was doing fine, and there were no immediate plans to come out with a new version. Phew! That's a relief!

In August of that same year, a countdown/announcement was released for Fourth Edition, coming in 2008....


Next (and Last) Part: Pathfinder Triumphant, The Return of Hawkhaven, and Awesomeness Ensues

Photo Credits: Pauly Shore,
Fred Durst

The Great Cat Poop Crisis of 2013

Yeah, I'm writing about cats again. Bear with me; I've never in my life had a situation where I lived someplace with multiple cats, so this is new and fascinating territory for me. It's an ongoing learning experience; a fuzzy, interesting, watch-your-step, don't-leave-food-on-the-counter, learning experience.

Back when we had just one cat, Spooky, our 19 1/2 year old Dowager Empress, the part of our lives dedicated to cleaning up Her Highness' intestinally-processed cat food (aka poop) was actually rather small. Having slowed down a lot, she was a light eater (although she definitely loved her some deli sliced turkey breast and/or a little ramican of Half-and-Half, or, as she came to know the word, "cream"), and consequently a light pooper.

And yet, lacking perspective, we didn't think she was a light pooper. In fact, when her box got ripe, we started singing our own modified version of Nickelodeon's Catdog theme song. It went something like:

Catbox! Catbox!
Nothing in the world like a stinky catbox!

Well, I'll never understand
And I'll never quite git
How one little cat
Can make so much s**t!

That's about as far as we got, because I think around that time, we both passed out.

But that was Spooky for you. You know, as an aside, she had a litter mate, and we know where that sibling ended up. I wonder if that other cat is still alive. We could ask the owners, as they are former friends of ours, but we're not exactly on speaking terms this day, and it may be rather awkward to contact them and say "Hey, we don't give a screaming, flying, warthog's behind about how the two of you are doing, but can you tell us if your cat is still alive?"

Some mysteries, apparently, will never be solved.

Now, where was I? Oh yes. Cat poop.

So yes, we were accustomed to our elderly cat's slower metabolism, smaller appetite, and decreased activity level. Going from this situation to a clowder of three young, active, and voraciously hungry cats barely out of kittenhood was like going from a leisurely walk in the park while pushing a baby stroller to strapping on a pair of roller skates, getting a rocket engine shoved up you posterior, then having it activated as you stand at the top of a steep ski slope. Wile E. Coyote would be proud.

These three cats eat.  And consequently, these three cats poop.

 Oh, sure, the youngest of our four kids, the one who still lives at home, said she'd help us with the cat boxes, but tell me this: have you ever asked a teenager to do something? When they want you to do something, it always needs to be done now. They call because they need a ride home, so pick them up now. Or they need to be dropped off somewhere, now. Or they need to bring some money to school, now. Or their hair's on fire, and they want you to extinguish it now.

It's always something, I tell ya!

Oh, but when you ask them to do something, they keep putting it off, usually with the wuzgunna's. As in, "I wuzgunna do that after I got home from school!" So, you decide not to nag, and time goes by, and pretty soon they're marching down the aisle on their wedding day, and they still haven't done what you wanted! And of course, if you insist, they get all affronted, as if you're Cinderella's wicked stepmother who's having a particularly bad day as well as a jalapeno enema. Goebbels would be a more genteel parent, compared to your unreasonable demands that they do something you ask them to do without giving them a fortnight's deadline in which to do it.

So, where was I? Oh yeah. Cat poop.

So the rate of cat poop creation was increasing exponentially, with all three cats generating so much crap that all of them would be over-qualified to work as FoxNews commentators. In fact, it gets so bad that the cats barely have enough room to do further business, so the cats begin to express their displeasure in the universal language known as "taking a dump outside the box".

Can you imagine if we humans expressed our displeasure at others in this way? Dissatisfied with your job? Walk into a meeting where your boss is talking with other higher-ups, jump up on the meeting room table, drop your pants, and let your duodenum do the talking.

Or if your boyfriend or girlfriend cheats on you, you go over to their apartment and leave a little (or a big, if you've had a large meal) surprise on their living room carpet. It gives the phrase "carpet steamer" a whole new meaning, I tell you.

Are you angry at the psychos from Westboro Baptist "Church"? Take a dump on their lawn. See how they protest that!

So, yes. Cat poop. The cats began leaving what Carol and I call "protest poops" just outside the litter box, to indicate their displeasure. Humans think outside the box. Cats poop outside theirs.

But, thanks to the acquisition of another large litter box, we think the crisis is at an end. This is a covered box, incidentally, which 1) makes sure that the rest of the cellar isn't subjected to an ammonia-smelling, poop-laced sandstorm when the cats use the box and scratch at the litter, and 2) it offers the cats privacy. Apparently, cats don't like people watching them when they do their business, unlike dogs, who'll blast a ten pound turd right in front of you, then turn around and enjoy it as a hot hors d'oeurve, and then jump up and lick your face! FUN!

It looks like, at least for the moment, that the House of Terra has weathered the latest cat poop crisis, but knowing this clowder, they'll have another challenge waiting for us sooner rather than later.

Our Cats, Part 3: Avishan

It's a well-known made-up historical fact that Al Gore created the Internet for the purpose of facilitating us talking about our cats. This is the third in a three-part series of the Cats of the House of Terra. Enjoy.

AVISHAN

AKA:  Little Bit, Avi-Girl, Avi, Kitty Ninja, Paddlepaws, Flopishan, Fluffishan, Count Kittytoes
AGE:  9 Months

So Kyrian is "my" cat, and Felix is "Rhiannon's" cat, but that left Carol without a cat (or a kitty overlord, let's just call it what it is!). Even though Carol was without question the hardest hit when Spooky passed away, she wanted to first make sure that the other two of us had "our" cats, so that we both could savor the whole special bond with one cat thing.

But as last Christmas loomed, it was apparent that Carol was ready. We needed that third (and final!) cat for the House of Terra. So, on Rhi's birthday, coincidentally enough, we headed off to the Bedford Animal Shelter, since we had so much success there with Kyrian.

Carol has always had a soft spot for black cats. After all, they are beautiful cats, emblematic of Halloween (her favorite holiday), as well as her tendency to stick up for the underdog..er...undercat, since many people are prejudiced against black cats. Although she wasn't ruling out any color cat, if there was a preference, she'd go for a black cat. Also, she really wasn't interested in a kitten.

After checking out a few adult black cats, the attendant invited her into the "kitten room", a special place set apart where the kittens could roam and hang out. The attendant pulled out a black kitten, shyly hiding, and Carol placed the kitten in her lap. The kitten then flopped over, relaxing in her lap like it was something she'd always done. I was watching Carol from the glass window, and when I saw the sheer look of a heart melting, I knew she was hooked. She had found her black kitty.

Avishan had been born in a feral colony, captured, checked out, spayed, and had her ear clipped, so she could be adopted as a barn cat. Someone apparently decided that she was tame enough to actually be adopted into a regular home.

And about that ear clipping...

In order to identify a barn cat as having been spayed or neutered and checked out, vets remove a small portion of the cat's ear. Someone apparently got a little too enthusiastic with the clippers, because her left ear is missing quite a chunk. One hopes that the person who performed the procedure never goes into the hair-cutting industry.

Oh, and her original name was "Horse". We have no idea why. And just when we thought that Kyrian's original name of "Nugent" was strange enough.

The name had to go. While Carol helped me out by suggesting the name "Kyrian", I returned the favor by suggesting "Avishan", the name of her half-elf Druid from one of our older Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. Avishan it is!

As a feral, Avishan proved to be shyer than your normal kitten. In fact, as soon as she got the measure of the house, she dashed through the cat door and down into the cellar, where she remained for most of the day and night. After a few attempts to keep her up here, I suggested we seal the door and bring the litter boxes upstairs (gag). We enacted the plan and kept the door sealed for two weeks. She eventually got the hint and her habits changed.

Avishan is a poly-dactyl. She has 24 toes, with enormous front paws and what almost looks like opposable thumbs. We expect her plans for world domination to be enacted soon, and I for one, welcome our kittycat overlords.

Assimilating Avi was a challenge. Kyrian, already having gotten used to Felix, was now finding his patience tested again. You could almost see the "Oh no! Here we go again!" vibe coming off him. He greeted the new kitten with half-hearted swipes at her, and lots of hissing. Felix, no doubt remembering how he was initially greeted with hostility, was a different...oh, who the Hell am I kidding? Felix hissed at her too, the little bugger. What was sad was seeing Avishan approach the boys and flop over, exposing her belly, no doubt trying to be friendly, only to get hissed at and batted.

But again, we tried doing the group play, the mixing of their scents, and one day, it was like a switch thrown. It's almost as if the boys suddenly decided at once "Okay, we can let girls in the club".

With Kyrian as the alpha male, Avishan soon learned the things to do. As a shy kitten, she wouldn't dream of jumping on counters- until she saw Kyrian do it. She wouldn't beg for food scraps- until she saw Kyrian do it.

Avishan still has the adorable habit of suddenly flopping over on her side in order to be petted. It's called the Avi-flop, and has given birth to a new song:

Do it in the night
And do it in the morning
Do the Avi-flop
And fall over without warning!

As a black cat, Avishan has that whole "blend in with the shadows" shtick down pat. Those big paddle paws of hers somehow make her footfalls silent, hence the appellation of Kitty Ninja. One moment she's not there, the next, she's sitting behind you, big yellow eyes looking up, acting as if she'd been there all along.

She also shares the same characteristics, coincidentally enough, with our dear departed Spooky. She loves to eat paper (the more important papers the better), loves eating turkey, and has this fascination with the shower after someone uses it.

If there's a downside, and it's a small one, it's that her shyness makes it so that she doesn't like being picked up, or sitting in people's laps. In fact, many times we've walked in on her, she's had this guilty look as if to say "Oh, I don't belong here? Okay!", then she takes off. But happily, she's been taking baby steps (kitten steps?) and is gaining confidence and trust. She's gotten to the  point where she'll follow Carol around, and she prefers Carol to the rest of us, which is what we've been shooting for all along.

And so, the House of Terra is now complete. Each of us has a cat that enjoys a special bond, and all three cats are good friends. And yes, we're stopping at three cats. Being Crazy Cat People is not a career path we're interested in taking!

Our Cats Part 2: Felix

It's a well-known made-up historical fact that Al Gore created the Internet for the purpose of facilitating us talking about our cats. This is the second in a three-part series of the Cats of the House of Terra. Enjoy.

FELIX

 AKA: Baby Pig (pronounced beh-beh peeg), Little Dude, Little Psycho, Prince Poing Poing, Crazy Ed, "Felix- nothing more than Felix" (sung to the tune of a really awful song)
Age: Nine Months

Felix is Rhiannon's cat. Or, again, Rhiannon is Felix's go-to staff. She picked him out of a litter of five cats, a situation that came about when Rhi's friend Katie's cat, Jade, got out of the house and was gone for a couple days, and yep, right before she was supposed to be "fixed". The neighbor's cat worked fast and before you can say "Spay and neuter your pets", Jade was in the family way.

Rhi had picked out Felix while Spooky was still alive. This is significant, because Spooky, the Dowager Empress of the House Of Terra, would tolerate NO other cats before her. Sure, we could visit other people's homes and pet their cats. But bringing in another cat? Inconceivable! Blasphemy! Impudence!

Carol gave Rhi permission to pick out a kitten, with the understanding that she couldn't bring it home until the day Spooky was no longer with us. While that could be weeks or months, Carol knew deep down that Spooky was not long for this world.

As it turned out, her instincts were good. Spooky passed the day before Halloween, and Felix turned eight weeks, the optimal time, around Thanksgiving. Rhiannon decided to name the kitten Felix.

"Oh cool," I noted. "You named him after Felix the Cat!"

"No," she replied. "I named him after Felix Kjellberg; PewdiePie."

Of course! What was I thinking? Pardon me while I shuffle to the old age home, along with my ancient cultural references!

Kyrian was already well situated here at the House Of Terra, so naturally there was a concern about how the cats would get along. Sure enough, Kyrian growled and hissed at the new kitten, which was actually kept in Rhiannon's room. We did a slow assimilation process, letting Kyrian smell Felix through the door, petting him after we pet Felix so that he could get acclimated to the smell, things like that.

A big breakthrough happened when the cats played together with feather dancers and other toys like that. While they played, Kyrian forgot to assert his alpha-male status and instead played along with Felix. Gradually, the two cats got along, but every once in a while, Kyrian would get a little fed up with Felix, and walk away, giving a little explosive sigh that we called a "Chuff!" It was hysterical, because Kyrian sounded so human when he did that; like an exasperated rush of air when faced with a frustrating situation.

Felix is a kitten who happens to also have a medical condition that's known as "being a dimwit". He's a loveable cat and totally devoted to Rhi, but wow...he is one dippy kitten. He bounces around the house, usually engaged in the endless, Captain Ahab-like pursuit of that elusive creature known as "Felix's tail". On any given afternoon, Felix can be found tearing around the house, leaping into the air with his inexhaustible kitten energy, then suddenly indulging in a spirited pursuit of his tail.

Felix also eats like a pig. Whereas Kyrian usually waits his turn for getting a hand-fed treat, Felix will barge on in and even try to take the food away from the other cats, even if said food piece is hanging out of the cat's mouth. And naturally, in order to wash down that stolen food, Felix bounds into the bathroom and drinks from the toilet.

Hey wait....dimwit, loveable, chases his tail, grabs greedily at all food, drinks from the toilet...

Good Lord...Felix is a closet dog!

These days, Felix is a much-loved member of the House of Terra, and even Kyrian likes him. While it's been noted that if all three of our cats were the hyenas from The Lion King then Felix would be Crazy Ed, he's an entertaining and loveable ball of kitten energy.
So, two cats living at the House of Terra, and they get along. All done, right? Nope. The House of Terra isn't complete without a black cat, and there was a little one on the horizon...

 

Our Cats, Part 1: Kyrian

It's a well-known made-up historical fact that Al Gore created the Internet for the purpose of facilitating us talking about our cats. This is the first in a three-part series of the Cats of the House of Terra. Enjoy.

Kyrian

AKA: Kye-Guy; "Handsome, Handsome Fly-Guy"; Metrosexual Kitty; Kneady Boy, Kyrian Eliason
Age: Two years

The death of our 19 1/2 year old black cat Spooky in October 2012 was a devastating, though not unexpected event in our family. There had been signs that she had been slowing down, signs that we chose to ignore or rationalize, the pet owners' equivalent of whistling past the graveyard. But when the time came and it was clear that, after a sudden stroke, that she was in pain and losing her mental awareness, the hard decision was made.

Her loss left a void in our house, and the question became "when do we get another cat?" There had been talk that it would be at least weeks before we'd bring in another cat. At Carol's urging, we ended up hitting the Nashua Humane Society the Saturday after Spooky passed. I was not too keen on the idea, but Carol really wanted me to have a cat with whom I could have the same close relationship to as she had with Spooky. Because even though Spooky was a loving cat that enjoyed hanging out with everyone, ultimately, she was Carol's cat. Or, to be precise, Carol was her human!

So, off to the Nashua Humane Society, Carol, our youngest daughter Rhiannon, and yours truly.

Getting a cat isn't as simple as going to the supermarket and picking up a gallon of milk. There has to be that spark, that connection. It's like the definition of art: "I can't describe it to you, but I know it when I see it!" So there we were, at the Humane Society, looking for a cat that, though it would be the family cat, would be the one that bonded best with me. I was still skeptical and not very enthusiastic.

After checking out some very nice kitties, it was clear that the spark, that zing, didn't happen at NHS.

"Well, so much for that," I said. "Let's head home."

"There's the Animal Rescue League in Bedford," Carol suggested.

Sigh.

On to the ARL.

Once there, we looked around for a while, but still, nothing. No connection. No zing. There had been one cage we kept passing since it was situated along the main corridor, but the occupant was constantly sleeping and thus escaped our notice. After spending a good amount of time in the large facility and experienced the kitty version of 101 Dalmatians, no. Nothing. Time to go home to our empty cold catless house and wallow in sadness.

I had my back turned to the cage with the sleeping cat as I suggested to Carol and Rhiannon that we should just go.

"Dad!" Rhiannon shot back, pointing. "That cat just tried to swat your butt!"

I turned around and saw this handsome tabby, looking alert and trying to put his paw through the cage to reach out to me.

Now, I know there's a lot of opinions and arguments about the possibility of life after death. There's also discussion about whether there's such thing as ghosts, and even further, whether higher-functioning animals like dogs and cats can be ghosts. But we're convinced that, when we were at the Bedford shelter, the ghost of a little black cat who wanted to make sure her humans were happy swatted the dozing tabby on the head, saying "Hey, dummy! Wake up! The best thing you could possibly have is about to pass you by! Wake up!"

Another couple had noticed the tabby's antics and started taking an interest in him as well. Fortunately, Rhiannon dashed off and found a volunteer, and we set up a small room so that we could have some one on one with this feisty cat called Nugent, this eighteen month old tabby.

Nugent? Really? Does this cat come with its own gun collection and insane right-wing ideology? Or is it a has-been rocker desperate for attention?

Nugent had been found as a stray in Vermont. He had a collar that he had tried to get out of, but instead it got stuck under one of his arms and burrowed into his flesh. It had required surgery to remove it.

Well, we fell in love with him and decided on the spot to adopt him. But that name had to go. That's when Carol brought up Kyrian, the name of a non-player character bard in my old Forgotten Realms Dungeons and Dragons 3.0 game. Yeah. Kyrian. That works.

Kyrian it was.

We live in a house on the border of Nashua, with plenty of room inside for an active cat. Kyrian took to his new home immediately, and quickly established himself as the Master of All He Surveys.

Kyrian, we discovered, is part Egyptian Mau. The Mau is characterized by leopard-like spots on the under-belly, a tendency to chirp rather than meow, and has the habit of waiting by the door for their master to return home. Although it's clear that Kyrian isn't a full-blooded Mau, those characteristics are all there.

Kyrian loves the knead. When he first came home, he was kneading everything; blankets, furniture, us, THE AIR. In fact, Carol and I still recall the evening of the Presidential election. My son John had come up to visit and to vote, and we came home to find him sitting in his favorite chair, watching tv, with Kyrian on his lap, kneading vigorously. John's expression was one of slight but continuous pain. Kyrian was already making friends.

Nowadays, he still kneads, but it's mostly just laps, and mostly mine. It's not so bad when his claws are trimmed but otherwise, well, the Spanish Inquisition could have taken a few tips from him on the subject of torture methods.

Speaking of torture, there's also the farting. Well, again, not so much these days, but when we first got him, his kitty digestive system had to adjust from the standardized shelter food and feeding schedule, to the variety and greater quantities that we provide. Kyrian proved to be the master of the SBD (Silent But Deadly), although mercifully, the frequency has diminished, something we're all grateful for.

We've also never seen a cat who loves to groom as much as Kyrian does, which is why he's also known as the metrosexual kitty.

Some cats are fast, others are excellent jumpers. Kyrian is the master jumper, often getting a respectable amount of air when he does vertical leaps in an effort to grab the feather dancers we use to play with the cats. He also loves jumping up on counters, especially when we're cooking. This has led to addressing him in the same stern tone and name usage that you use on your kid, when you start using their full names, including the middle name, as in "Robert Maxell Smith! You put down that bottle of bleach and that duck right now, young man!".

Well, this is a cat. He has no middle name. We're not that insane...yet. So I've taken to saying "Kyrian Elaison!" when I'm addressing him in a disciplinary way. Since "kyrie elaison" means "Lord, have mercy", it's strangely appropriate.

This comes into play especially when I'm cutting up chicken on the cutting board. Kyrian jumps up on the counter, studies it, then tries to bring his face in contact with the chicken. After a sharp "Kyrian Elaison!", he backs up, then studies the chicken with what can only be described as an appraising glance, then, slowly, he reaches out with a paw to take it. After another sharp exclamation of his "full name", he withdraws the paw, studies the situation a little more, and tries again, this time with the other paw.

Cats are smart; and don't let anyone try to tell you otherwise. Kyrian knows the word "meat", and when he sees the fridge door open, he walks on over and chips "mreet". Fortunately, he also knows what "no" means, as well as "no more, all gone".

And so, Kyrian is well situated in his new home, and though he loves the family and enjoys socializing with any visitors, he's definitely "my cat", or to be honest, I'm "his" staff. But if he senses that someone other than myself is feeling down, he unerringly goes and sits with them for a while to cheer them up. His ability to know when to do this is uncanny. Maybe it's something like that whole "animals sense weather changes and earthquakes" thing.

Ah, but soon after Kyrian made himself at home and declared himself Lord and Master of the House of Terra, a new fuzzy face was lurking in the wings, ready to pounce.

Next time: Crazy Ed comes to stay