The most interesting thing about any fantasy world, especially Garidon, is the way it comes alive through the writings of its authors. Originally, I toyed around with Garidon as if it were my own personal playground, but over time I realized that I wanted to share my playground with everyone out there. I consider myself fortunate to have had that opportunity before and to have it again. Honestly, though, I hadn't set out to make it accessible to everyone. It's been a long, strange trip, and while Garidon is mostly my own, it didn't become what it was today without a little help along the way.

The as yet unnamed world began with a pair of short tales. First was "The Pool," written both for a high school sci-fi class and for a TSR writing contest that went absolutely nowhere back in 1991-1992. The second was what I considered for a long time to be my first 'child', the tale "To Swim Forever", which grew out of a failed crush on a female friend of mine. Both stories have gone through about six dozen revisions. ("Pool" isn't up on this site because I'm still trying to revise it to my liking. And it's nowhere near my liking.) After writing those two tales using characters from my role-playing, I figured I was well on my way to becoming a real author. That is, until the rejection slips. Undaunted, I did what any self-respecting high school junior did in my situation: I sighed, muttered some really pretty nasty things, and gave up for the time being. (A third short story written during these early years for a fiction writing class in high-school, "Flight of the Beast," which introduced Calimar Llewyntraee and the city of Tasmil to the lexicon of the still unnamed world, isn't yet catalogued due to its now non-continuity nature. Once I figure out how to fit it in, I'll post it to this site.)

Garidon itself, though, had its roots on Prodigy, in early summer, 1992. It began with my writing from the perspective of Shasta Rameikos, crazy wizard at large, with his variations on spells (I mean, who could resist such fun as the spells "Yummy Touch" or the theme and variations on a "Wall of Ice," including the now-immortal "Wall of Nice" and "Wall of Mice"?). After a short time, I finally figured out most people online who attempted to role-play at being mages were far too powerful for their own good. I mean, after all, you can only sit and read through the immaturity of "Ping! Your spell bounces off me and I hit you with a 47d8 lightning bolt and deep fat fry you to an extra tasty crispy golden brown on the spot!" so many times before getting thoroughly frustrated with egotistical people who have no concept of sharing.

Bitter? Me? Nah.

But I did learn that I had to forge a new path. And that path led me to success.

It was the later that summer, the summer of 1992, when he first made his debut. He was just a little throwaway character I'd created a few months earlier during a spurt of random dice rolling, on a night when I was just making characters with nothing more than stats for the simple reason that I could then claim a library of X number of characters. He wasn't strong or tough by the game's standards. He was just... there. Nothing more, in fact, than a name on a sheet of paper left forgotten in a dark corner of my bedroom. In a fit of abject strangeness, I pulled the name I'd written on the sheet and began to write from his point of view, writing with no clear past behind me and no clear future ahead of me. His debut was less than a success; I think he garnered one reply, maybe two. But what was important to me was that they were quality replies, quality writing that, while still rough (much like mine was at the time), held a spark of interest. I wrote back to that posting, and a small, intimate little storyline was born.

And that... that's the true beginning of Darrin Trailsong.

And the Whistling Swan Inn. At least the online version; the real one is in Fish Creek, Door County, Wisconsin. (It's my private goal to one day slip up there in the middle of the night and pry the large wooden sign from the building to keep as my very own.) After all, the name sounded conveniently like a medieval roadside bar and inn, and I saw no reason to let such a perfect name go to waste.

Over the course of the next two months, I, along with a number of other people on the old Computer Club BB on Prodigy, laid the foundations for what became the Chaos War. I admit it, I was both giddy and egotistical about it all, but by the time it was all over, nearly 50 people had participated in the massive plotline. Buoyed by that success, I immediately thought about doing a second story. With the onset of college, though, I decided against it. My roommate, also an avid role player, was interested in the prospect of doing such a story. Thus was born the Assassin's Song (renamed the Rise of Assassins for the purposes of Garidon's "history") an event which captured the attentions of some 70 players. Alas, the party on Prodigy was soon broken up by a rise in the rates, and the group and work that had gone into making Garidon a reality had gone to waste. The foundations had been laid, though, and the seed that became Garidon was planted in the back of my mind.

From Prodigy, I migrated first to GEnie online, along with a group of writing friends in a fictional club called the Hoffbrau. (Note: If any original Hoffbrites see this Website, drop me a note; the Rogue Bear still lurks the Internet and can be found at last.) We even had two real celebrities as a part of the Hoffbrau: Digby Diehl, book reviewer and critic at large, and mystery novelist Jill Churchill (aka Janice Young Brooks, a wonderful lady whose mystery book titles are a sight to behold in and of themselves). The Hoffbrites got upset with GEnie, though, and quickly jumped ship and joined Delphi. Not coincidentally, I fell in love with a few things over on Delphi, not the least of which was its role-playing areas. It was, in fact, the first free-form chat online that I'd ever found.

This is where I learned two fine arts that still serve me well: dialogue and fast typing.

Delphi at that time, however, cost a bundle beyond the first 20 hours. By then, however, I was firmly entrenched at UW-Madison, and was soon introduced to a neat little place called ISCABBS: the University of Iowa Student Computing Association Bulletin Board System. At first glance, it was a lot like Delphi-- so much, in fact, that while I was making the transition, I kept using the wrong sets of commands. Once I was on ISCA permanently, I found my way toward a storytelling room that held infinite potential: a place named Camelot. The format was simple: write a little from the point of view of your character and how he/she fits into the grander plotline. I distinctly remember chuckling the first time I found the room; this was something I'd been doing for a couple years already. Needless to say, Darrin quickly found his way into the various worlds of Camelot.

Summer, arrived, though, and upset the balance of ISCA. Being a mostly student-run and student-supported BBS, summer was a time of traditional slowness for the otherwise popular system. Storylines slowed down; in fact, most of them disappeared completely. When school continued in September, this didn't change; in fact, participation in the Camelot room dwindled to "deadly" levels. It was at about this time that I entertained the idea of crafting a plotline that would involve a number of people, perhaps allowing me to relive my "glory days" on Prodigy. The Sword Quest was born, as were a number of the places where it would go: Marnet, Sybara, Askandor, Deepdawn, and so on.

Once places and concepts were named, I realized that I needed a place to put them, not just the nebulous "over there" that took place in my mind. To that end, I managed to scrape up a curious little item that had been drawn up a number of years ago by a good friend of mine, an artist/actor by the name of John O'Brien II: a blank map of a single continent, blank but for a small mountain range in the east-southeast (and the name 'Zhaga Peak' by one of the mountains). I took the map that had been given to me, filled it in, and poof!-- there it was. The unnamed world that I'd spent the last two and a half years mucking about in was sitting there, right in front of me.

The story on ISCA-- then named the "Three Kingdoms Trilogy," the first part being "Secret of the Silver Swords," then just "Silver Swords" after the original title's striking resemblance to a computer game by TSR/SSI-- immediately flourished. Within a month, I had 500 documented queries as to how to join, and over 300 willing players. In late October, 1994, the world of Garidon officially opened its doors on ISCA to a triumphant debut. Over the course of the next six months, the story grew and shrunk, from its height of the over 300starting players to a polite, intimate core of about three dozen. During that time, I plotted exactly how the next two parts of the trilogy would go-- although due to my own apathy, they have still never seen the light of day.

Over the course of the last three and a half years, I will admit to having been in a rut. Garidon has always been sitting there, in the back of my mind, just waiting to be dusted off and shared with the rest of the world. A couple of short tales have appeared during that time: "Quest of the Heart," "Bubbles," and "Pillow Talk" debuted as school projects, and "Tiger's Tale" and "Order of the White Wing," which had their most rudimentary roots in high school, were finally committed to paper. And "Byron" came out of an interlude during a role-playing adventure in Madison. In an attempt to recreate what I'd lost, I returned to a much-changed (and much less expensive) Prodigy in the hopes of again sparking the dying embers of my writing. I was in luck; a few of the people I'd met over the years were still around, and, after re-establishing Darrin Trailsong online, I was back in business. "The Tiger and the Lady," in fact, stems directly from a collaboration with a friend in California with as fertile an imagination as I could ever hope to have.

Which, in a roundabout way, brings us to today.

I've promised this website to so many people over the last five years. Along the way, I've lost track of so many real names and online names that I could fill the phone directory of a small town (coincidentally, about the size of Naridale). Those people are the true Heroes of Garidon, people who gave me and this world a chance to touch their lives in a way that I never thought I could. I would be remiss if I didn't try to list them somewhere, and if you're not on the list, don't despair; if nothing else, the roll of the Heroes of Garidon is always growing. Special thanks, therefore, go to the following people:

To Becky, whose actions one fateful night inspired me to write.

To Steve and both Johns O'Brien (I & II), for lighting the creative spark within me.

To S. Erin Denney, Ron Wallace, and Stuart Ikeda, who allowed the spark to flourish.

To professors Lucretia Crawford, Jeff Elzinga, Martha Schott and Karl Elder for re-igniting its dying embers.

To the hundreds online who dealt with not only the complex gods on screen, but also with the god complex of the writer-- including, but hardly limited to: Brian, Bob, & Lori, the Originals; Fireline, & Chris, the Delphites; the Hoffbrau, the best writer's support group; Hasane, Rohan, K'tir, Gme, & Sheira, the Chat Legends; Wyndi, Lissa, Lanse, Oliver, & Dawn, the ISCAns; and to Marsha "Rose", Tom, Kirin, Krysia, Jennafae, & Ruth, the new Chat Legends.

To Amanda, Donna, Karen, Carmine, Christy, Misty, Ally, Alycia, Chandel, Diane, Kara, Kim, James, Joe, Josh, Steve, and Shanali-- among myriad others-- for introducing and addicting me to the wonderful, wide world of free-form gaming on IRC.

To Donica "Blades" Collier for Tyrrel.

To Dave Sigley for the duCharlerois and help with the Assassin's Song.

To "Dav" Harnish for Aex Hellshadow.

To Wyndi for the original Deoridhe and Kell.

To Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman, who originally proved that something this ambitious can be done.

To Kate, Jeff, Ed, Elaine, Scott, Troy, Bob (sorry-- R.A.), Jim, and Brian, a cadre of popular fantasy authors whose ranks I hope to one day be counted among; also for their characters Alias, Dragonbait, Elminster, Danilo, Midnight, Kelemvor, Drizzt, Alusair, and the ubiquitous Volo, respectively.

To Mike, Timothy, and George himself, sci-fi authors and visionaries I admire; also for their characters Corran, Mara, and the original "Magnificent Ten," respectively.

To Mark, Peter, Keith, and Dan, masters of the comic book format. Their characters and tales are far too numerous to list here.

To C.S Lewis, for keeping me awake at night, reading and re-reading about Shasta, Aravis, Bree, and Hwin.

To Reg, whose style taught me about the small details.

To Scott, whose style taught me about grand settings.

To Joel & Tanya, whose style reminded me how to have fun again for the first time.

To Ryan, Chris B., James, Kelly, Sam, Hobie, Shawn, Chuck, Eric, Kathy, and Ben: my first true gaming groups, born at the Roost behind Ben & Pat's shop, for allowing me to play out the original version of the Silver Swords adventure.

To Mark, Scott, Chele, Chris, Nikki, Daryl, Brock, Dale, and Tracy, gamers that kept the hobby (read: addiction) going.

To Jeff, Beth, Seth, Guppy, Jodi, Nick, Anna, Aaron, Andrea, Crystal, Brian, Jerry, Chris, Ann, and Joe-- to all of Tangents Game Club and Game Base 7 (www.gb7.org)-- for letting the addiction fester each and every year at Gen Con and beyond.

To Bill & Donna Baird, Tim Busse, and Christine Longstreth, for not snitching on me while typing much of this out on the office computer and personal laptop while at work.

To Tom, whose cafe allowed numerous gaming sessions and utter weirdness in the back part of his store that no sane man could normally tolerate until it sadly closed down on May 26, 1999.

To my "sister" Chris, her husband Ryan, and their daughter Kathryn Rose and son AJ, for indulging my weird, imaginative tendencies.

Finally, to the most important people in my life: my parents, Robert & Margaret Ahrnsbrak, for believing that I can write; both sets of my grandparents, Bill & Roma Ahrnsbrak and Rolf & Josephine Eberhardt, for never discouraging my imagination; to my brother Michael, for being just as strange, if not stranger, than me...

...And most of all to the singular most wonderful woman in my life, my fiancee Tiffany... for daring to believe in me.