I started gaming
about two and a half years ago: you’ll meet my first character, Boudiccea,
in these pages. I made her in about an hour. She’s gone some
places since then.
Then, my mate, the best DM in the world, decided to run a neonate campaign. One of his conditions was that the players should come up with back-story for their characters. I thought I could only write about a page, but the tale evolved in the telling, and I ended up with a half-hour oral history for my Salubri ex-nun, Mary O’Brien.
Then came a most fateful decision for me: I decided to run my own game. So I sat down and wrote up an incredibly complex piece of stuff called “Time Enough to Die.” It involved time travel, Jack the Ripper, the end of the world, and evil Cthulhu worshippers in the Technocracy.
After this, my players for some reason (insanity, maybe) actually encouraged me to run another story. So I came up with a continuation of that, called “Blood, Cold as Ice” which featured Giovanni arms dealers; the “most beloved” of Caine, Zillah; shape-shifting Tzimisce; and a double-crossing Ravnos. Oh, yeah, it was also set aboard the Titanic.
And still my dear, masochistic troupe wanted me to run more.
So then, they returned to their own time, which had been altered by events they caused in the past. Basically, they returned to a world where Germany had won the war. And of course, they were hunted by their alter-selves, because why not, and that which we fear the most is that which is most familiar, isn’t it?
And after all these adventures, when they all finally got back to New York, kissed the ground and made sure nothing like this would ever happen again, they still wanted to play more in my sick little dimly-lit world.
So I came up with the basic groundwork that encompasses the stories here. The union of werewolf and vampire. The fight against evil forces. The idea that perhaps one’s honor is all one has.
And I threw them into it.
And they loved it.
So somewhere along the way, I started writing more elaborate notes, and then turning them into stories as well, because sometimes the game doesn’t quite play out in the same way as I think it will.
So I write, you see, because I can’t not write. Because if I don’t write it down, then some part of my brain is always bothering me with “Well, yes, but what if Boudiccea had fought the banes instead of just protecting her children instead?”
So I write it down, and then my brain shuts up long enough for me to go about with my normal day.
Until more stories come. Because they always do.
Please enjoy my stories. They’re here for my own amusement, maybe yours as well. They’re not here to make a political statement, or endorse any kind of lifestyle or morality.
They’re just here to be read.