I couldn't settle on just one topic for this issue, so I decided to ramble a bit about three or four various things. Life has been rather hectic for me of late but I am pleased to announce that I've just finished the first draft of my 9^th novel, Truegold, the conclusion of the ElfLore trilogy. The second book of it, Knight of the Basilisk, is due to be released this summer.

Even more exciting – my short story, "Dawn of the Living-Impaired," has been nominated for an Origins Award in the category of Best Game-Related Short Work. This is the top honor in the gaming industry and I am both thrilled and honored beyond belief. The story, which takes a look at what happens when well-meaning politically correct social services collide with brain-chewing zombies, can be found in Eden Studio's anthology The Book of All Flesh.

The voting period is coming soon, and I would sure appreciate the support! (_link to Origins site)

But enough about that … let's look at a few things loosely connection with our 'action' theme. Starting with that number of singular importance, 520.

The Legend of 520

It just sort of happened, and no one is really sure how or when.

520. The very number strikes dread into the hearts of the players in my campaign. Why? Because they know that when they see it on the battlemat, they're in for some trouble.

The peculiar tale of 520 began at least a dozen years ago. Someone in our gaming group had a bunch of little cardboard counters with numbers on them. Maybe they came from an actual game, maybe they were homemade; I don't remember.

What I do remember was that 520 was always the last one standing. The hardest to kill. The one who dished out the most, or the most memorable, damage to the PCs.

I've always preferred little cardboard counters to miniatures for the NPC baddies. Put a number on there, maybe an arrow so's I know which way they're facing, and I'm happy. I can make a list on my GM notes and keep track of their hit points by number. I can flip them over to a blank white side when they're taken out of the fight. Handy.

Different colors are good too. Maybe the blue ones are humans and the green ones are orcs. Maybe the yellow ones are males and the pink ones are females, whatever. It's easy for me to tell at a glance who's still up and where they're at.

And when there's a 520, we all know who the main threat or leader is.

Because, you see, after so many scenarios in which, inexplicably, it was always the one numbered 520 that lasted the longest, I started assigning that number on purpose to the toughest opponent who wasn't an actual big-name main adversary.

You can always tell a 520. The orc from "Fellowship of the Ring," you know the one I'm talking about, the leader of Saruman's fighting Uruk-Hai, who plugged Boromir three times with a crossbow and then got spectacularly beheaded by Aragorn – and if any of this constitutes a spoiler, shame on you … surely every fantasy fan and/or gamer worth his or her salt has already seen the movie at least twice … and even if for some unfathomable reason you haven't seen the movie, you'd better by-gosh have read the book!

I was quite happy for a long time with my little cardboard counters. Then I lost them. They were in a tidy white cube of a box, the sort of thing that the jewelry store puts the hinged ring box into. But one day when I went to look for them, they were gone. This left me distressed for a long time.

My husband Tim owns a large collection of miniatures. Whenever we knew there was a fight brewing in the game, he was always more than willing to drag down all his cases. I needed orcs? Human thugs? Lizard men? Skeletal warriors? No problemo.

Except that, for me, it was a problemo. Gamers are so careful in choosing miniatures to represent their characters. They want the miniature to be as close as possible in every detail. Once it's painted and in place, it's a matter of what you see is what you get. And that mental habit transfers over to any figure put into play. When I had a bunch of guys with one type of weapon and the guys on the battlemat were all wielding another, it bugged me and often led to confusion. "I know it looks like he's got a halberd, but it's really an axe. Work with me here, people."

I didn't have that problem with my beloved cardboard counters. They might be bland, but that very blandness meant that I could describe them the way I envisioned them, and not have to worry that the players would be misled by what their own eyes were telling them.

I spent months griping about the missing counters and making do with miniatures. But finally, either because it occurred to me that I should ask nice, or because he was sick of listening to the complaining, Tim whomped together a spiffy new set.

Four colors, numbered one through ten (a combat that needed more than that would never happen in my game because my head would explode; I'll leave that to the Warhammer players, go to and god bless). And as a special added attraction, not one but count-them-FOUR that bore the portentous and momentous number, 520.

Glorfindel Support Group

First off, with one or two very small exceptions, I absolutely loved the first Lord of the Rings movie. The look, the mood, the action … all was splendid and grand and wonderful. I think the Ring itself should have gotten a Supporting Actor nod, because it was very much a presence and character unto itself.

But while it's fun to talk with friends about what you liked about the movie – Legolas, for instance; from the way they remembered how he could walk on top of the snow to the stab-and-shoot moment, everyone I know just loves Legolas – it's in the nit-picking that the best arguments can develop.

Here's what I didn't like about the movie:

The fight scene between Gandalf and Saruman. All that spinning around on the floor and such just did not work for me.
Galadriel. I thought her face was too round and she came across as far more spooky than she seemed to me in the book.
Despite the fact that I didn't care for Galadriel, I was miffed that they left out the bit about Gimli's crush. I hear that the DVD may put this nit to rest, though, so we shall see.
Arwen, Warrior Princess. Bleah. I understand why it was done, and while I'm all in favor of strong female characters, I'm more in favor of staying true to the story. Her original role was princess and prize; Elrond tells Aragorn flat-out that she can only marry a king. Having her suddenly turned into an action-chick bothered me. I felt that it took something away from the real action chick, Eowyn of Rohan, who won't even appear until the next movie.
Glorfindel's absence. This poor elflord has gotten shabby treatment indeed. In the animated version, he was replaced by Legolas. Then along comes the live-action movie, and Arwen steals his thunder. I want to start a support group for fans of this poor, neglected fellow.

Speaking of elves, by the way, the other day on a mailing list, someone asked why it was that all the elves have pointed ears. And ponder though I might, and flip through the books though I might, I could not recall or find one single instance in either The Hobbit or the Ring trilogy in which the elves are actually described as having pointy ears. Anyone out there who can send me a page reference, I would greatly appreciate it because it's driving me bonkers.

Hottest Screen Kiss

I've heard people saying that the hottest kiss of the year is going to be in Star Wars Episode II. Personally, I disagree. Personally, I think the blockbuster smooch of the season is that wet mask-peeling upside-downy liplock from Spider-Man.

That's the action movie I'm really looking forward to. Moreso, even, than Episode II. Does that make me a bad fangirl? Probably. But I just know that all Anakin Skywalker's petulant adolescent angst is going to annoy the living heck out of me. There will be fantastic battles, no doubt, and that will be reason enough to go see it, but I am in no hurry to wait in a long line for a movie that I honestly am not anticipating all that much. The last one was kind of a letdown, the delectable Obi-Wan notwithstanding.

Spider-Man, though …

I have a weakness for superheroes, as I have addressed in a previous column. I know that there are plenty of people out there who are comic-book purists and have already been picking it to pieces on the basis of the previews alone (saw the same sort of thing when The X-Men came out, mostly having to do with the portrayal of Rogue). But despite my enjoyment of the genre, I haven't read any comic books in over a decade. I'm familiar enough with the concept to enjoy myself, not so well-versed in it that the divergences will send me into a frothing fit.

Tobey Maguire looks perfect for the part. I doubt I'll rush away from the movie to make a "Spider-Man is hot!!!" website like I did for Obi-Wan, but he is a cutie and has what I think is the right sort of earnest innocence. I'm planning to take my daughter and have a grand old time.

Reality Checks

A surprising amount of gamers don't seem to care much for the new trend of so-called 'reality TV.' I found this puzzling until someone pointed out that, being gamers, we're much more into playing than watching.

But the more I thought about it, the more I still found it puzzling. A lot of sports fans, wrestling aficionados, and race circuit junkies would far rather be watching. Why the split? Is it because most 'reality' shows aren't precisely what one might classify as sports?

Then again, if not a sport, what else could one possibly call something like Mark Burnett's Eco-Challenge? (well, some words do spring to mind, such as 'torture,' 'insanity,' and 'what the hell are those people thinking?') For those who haven't seen this particular program, it consists of mixed-gender teams who spend the worst days of their lives in some remote corner of the world, mountain-biking down sheer cliffs, hiking until their feet bleed, and going without sleep to the point of total nervous collapse. And here's the kicker – there is no prize. These people are doing it for the challenge, for the sheer love of it, or for some other reason that eludes me.

The "because it's there" gene apparently is not a part of my genetic makeup. I have no desire to pit myself against nature. I prefer comfortable temperatures, running water, and the knowledge that I can sleep at night without much chance of a tick attaching itself to my eyeball. Whenever I watch a show such as the Eco-Challenge, I spend most of the time amazed that anyone, let alone all these teams, would ever want to do such a thing. If it was for the money, I could understand.

But even if it was for the money, there's some stuff that I, gamer or not, wouldn't want to do. Take Survivor, for instance. Another Mark Burnett success, and is he a guy who would have been right at home arranging spectacles for the Coliseum in Ancient Rome? You betcha. I imagine that one reason many gamers don't care for this show is because it's like a game in which only the GM knows the rules, and he's a sadistic voyeur taking extreme glee from messing with the players' heads. We gamers like to know the rules so we know what we can and can't get away with, and how far we can bend them.

Survivor is one of my favorite shows, and part of it does appeal very much to me. The "outwit" portion. I would greatly enjoy the chance to play such a game, with the personal interaction, the manipulation, and the backstabbing. The part that I would hate is being out in the wilderness with no flush toilets, getting eaten alive by bugs, and having to get my fellow castaways to pee on me if I step on a jellyfish.

Another show that I watch but would never go on is Fear Factor. Far as I'm concerned, the prize money isn't nearly high enough for the weird stuff that they make contestants go through. The hanging-from-a-ledge or the submerged-in-a-steel-cage elements are really secondary, because the highlight … or lowlight … of the show is generally the middle stunt. The gross-out, creepy-crawly-icky one. The part of the show that is basically a grown-up version of the "dare you to eat this worm" stuff that goes on in the schoolyard.

Maybe that's why Fear Factor is so popular among Becca's first-grade friends. We had quite a lively talk about it in the school cafeteria one day. Turns out that most of the boys in class watch it regularly. I told Becca we might play "Kid Fear Factor" at her birthday party. Think of it. Lock them in the dark, make them touch a snake, feed them broccoli. Could be fun.

My husband Tim was hooked on Combat Missions, which recently ended its first season. I watched some of the episodes with him but wasn't as into it as he was, lacking as I do much of an interest in helicopters and guns and that sort of thing. The fascinating part for me (not counting the moment when a bunch of hunky guys trotted out of camp in nothing but their jocks, an unexpected eye-candy treat) was watching the team dynamics, the inevitable clashes of personality, the tension, and the breakdowns. Conflict and drama make for much more fascinating entertainment than something in which everything is happy and well.

"Reality" shows get a lot of bad press, stirred up no doubt by resentment among those who make "real" television and consequently have to pay more for sets, actors, script writers, and so forth instead of taking a bunch of folks and sticking them into a situation and filming the results. I can see where they're coming from, but I can't help enjoying those results. These are real people, and while the shows are edited to present a biased or extreme characterization of the real people, there's something about it that appeals to the base meanie in us all.

Game shows are becoming progressively more bizarre. They aren't just testing people on trivia, wordplay ability, and basic math. Now they're becoming a test of physical and mental stress. There've also been a plethora of supposedly 'sexy' reality shows, like Temptation Island and The Bachelor, but not having watched any of them, I'm not qualified to comment.

Several years ago, Stephen King published the novellas "The Running Man" and "The Long Walk." These can both be found in The Bachman Books, and both involve extreme game shows of the future. In the first, a contestant was put on the run with a team of hunters after him, increasing his prize money the longer he could elude capture and getting bonuses for dispatching officers of the law, while the home viewers could win prizes of their own for confirmed sightings and helping bring the player down. The second was about an annual event that took a hundred young men and made them walk non-stop along a designated route, but whenever they slowed beneath the required speed, they got a warning and after three warnings, they were shot. This went on until only one was left.

That may have been futuristic at the time, but we're getting there. We've had The Chair, in which players have their heart rate monitored while being exposed to adrenaline-pumpers like a box full of bees. There was even a short-lived show with almost the exact same premise as "The Running Man," except that nobody got shot at or killed. And we had The Chamber, which took physical punishment to an even greater level by subjecting contestants to violent shaking, intense heat or cold, blasts of wind, and so on. How much longer until the injuries are for real? How much longer until the stakes are life-or-death?

And will we watch when they are? People might say no, goodness, no, who would watch that sort of stuff? I say, a heck of a lot of the viewing audience. It's that basic animal nature, the same drive that prompts us to watch sports not to marvel over athletic prowess but because we're deep-down (or not so deep-down) hoping to see someone wipe out. We might claim to abhor spectacles of violence but at the same time, a lot of us can't help looking.

Conclusion

Not a very coherent column this time, as warned. A little of this, a little of that, and I had to stop in the middle because there was more real-life action than usual here at work. Not the bad stuff, luckily, just a resident who took it on himself to move the big fridge to clean behind it, but still a touch more excitement than is needed around here.

Tune in next issue for something that should hopefully be more organized and have more to do with writing!

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