Author: Tim Maidment

Map – Abandoned River Hut

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This is another map that I went back to review following the most recent update to Dungeon Alchemy. It’s a simple location that I could use for any number of random encounters or set pieces and the original map is still set up as a fairly generic location. This one is set in a snowy landscape with an icebound river flowing through it.

Overhead view of a map showing a snowy landscape. An abandoned hut is on the left, and large boulders are on the right. A river full of broken ice flows roughly top to bottom of the image. A small wooden bridge crosses the river around the middle of the image.

The hut is a ruin, and along with the tall piles of rock and trees its a location with lots of cover and opportunities for ambush and for different elevations. You can tell its an early map as I’ve not tweaked it to have much in the way of environmental storytelling – but in some ways that makes it generic enough to be used however you want.

I’ve created a zipped file ( abandonedriverhut.zip ) with the graphic above and the text file generated on export for lighting information. The file is formatted for Roll20, but the graphic itself could be imported into any virtual tabletop of your preference. Have fun!

Getting Funko

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I’ve been finding it hard to settle today, so I turned my attention to our office/spare bedroom and the towering mountain of Funko boxes piled behind the door. There seems, generally, to be two schools of thought when it comes to keeping and displaying these vinyl figures. The first is that they are bought to be displayed and the boxes are discarded as there is no intention of selling them on. The second is closely tied to the myth of rarity and the collector’s mindset and mandates that the figures should be preserved in pristine form in their boxes and displayed in them.

I am generally of the first persuasion, while Lady M has picked a third option – that of keeping the boxes so that figures can be put back in their boxes if needed. There’s still no intention of selling them, but perhaps there’s half an eye to how often over the years we moved and therefore a thought of transporting them.

As more than one person has remarked, this does take up a lot of space – and so in recent months I’ve been looking at how stably and neatly I can rearrange these boxes to perhaps have some degree of aesthetic in their stacking as well. I conquered the cupboard containing our boiler, various tools, folding chairs, and a stack of funko pop boxes that now stands some seven foot tall and is braced for stability.

Today therefore, to keep busy, I turned my eyes to the great stack and took the lessons learned from the cupboard. Now there are no mismatched boxes on different alignments unless needed to brace or tuck with boxes from other things – and it all feels far less precarious now. It no longer feels like the door might be keeping the boxes in place.

It’s a rock and roll lifestyle here. Apparently someone in a hat sat on a chair today…

Map – Winter Graveyard

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This is another new map that probably won’t see any immediate use in the game as it isn’t really the direction that the DDC or the Librarians are going, but it was fun to do. I went back to an old file I did when I first got Dungeon Alchemy, and reworked it. It wasn’t just a chance to bring in new textures and items, but also to enlarge the original small battlemap based on how I use them these days.

The original layout was a plain flat area of land with a large tomb and a nearby graveyard, separated by a river with a bridge over it. In this new version I’ve kept the basic layout but made a better bridge, edited the river, and manually reworked the landscape to give it more height and variety. The graveyard has been reworked to add some bigger monuments and features, while the large tomb has been turned into a mausoleum that someone has set up home in, complete with writing desk, tables and workshop items. A bed and some lighting complete the feel of an expansive place of study.

Overhead map shot of a snowbound graveyard and mausoleum in the middle of dense forest. A river divides the two with a stone bridge linking them. It is a nighttime scene with blooms of illumination from a number of small light sources and the overall glow of the moonlight

I also made use of the better tools now available to paint trees and rocks, and to layer the scene in snow as it is a winter scene. It also has the effect of making the light sources (various torches, braziers, and candles) stand out more. I envisage the map as either being one of investigation of mysterious sights, or the tracking of someone to a hideout so there’s all sorts of environmental storytelling built in.

I’ve created a zip file ( graveyard.zip ) with the map jpg and the text file with Roll20 lighting and wall information so you can import it to your Roll20 tabletop if you like – let me know if you use it and how it goes!

One of Those Days

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It’s a measure of how full and overlapping of events today has been at work that the first message I read when I switched my phone on was someone letting me know that one of my staff had had a bereavement. I puzzled over it on the way in to work and it wasn’t until I spoke to the person mentioned that I remembered we’d talked about and sorted it last week. Overlapping and intertwining meetings then dominated the rest of the day, often at short notice

Oh, and boy s was given notice to leave his rented flat as its been bought and the new owner presumably wants to do it up and rent it out for more money. He knew it was on the cards, but still a nasty shock to have to sign for delivery of the notice this morning.

All in all, most people today that I’ve spoken to have had frustrations or unexpected obstacles materialise. Tomorrow, as they say, is yet to arrive.

My eyes are still aching and a bit light sensitive, so not much else to update today beyond saying that I’ve been enjoying the new Guardian Games event in Destiny – there are some rough edges but there’s some elements that are unapologetically tweaked for fun and spectacle in the special activities and its been a good way to wind down online with boy s and Lady B.

Retinopathy Day

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I’ve been out of it for most of today as it was time for my annual retinopathy checkup. Its the one where paralytic and dilatory drops are put in my eyes so they can be checked for macular degeneration stemming from my diabetes.

In terms of my experience that means that after stinging drops are introduced, everything gets incredibly bright, hazy, and shiny so I can’t read anything or tolerate much of anything.

So I’ve been wearing sunglasses, dozing, and listening to audiobooks. Currently I’m enjoying rediscovering First and Only, the first Gaunt’s Ghosts book by Dan Abnett. Even fifteen hours later it feels like someone scooped my eyeballs out with a melon baller, and then pushed them back in my sockets – so I’m back off to sleep. See you on the other side.

NPCs – Kobolds Everywhere

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I’m not sure what it is about kobolds – those little dragon-dog-people with big toothy smiles who are small and clever and always popping up everywhere doing unexpected things when not carrying off livestock or trying to be noticed by real dragons. In Dungeons and Dragons they’re some of the weakest creatures individually in the game, and yet I’ve had tribes of these little critters give experienced players a really hard time. The secret is that they love to tinker and set traps. In 5th edition particularly they’ve been allowed to grow from something of a joke to a more rounded set of beings that work well together and have an egalitarian approach to overcoming life’s difficulties that is hard to resist.

As player characters, or significant non-player characters, kobolds have a similar charm to me as goblins – there’s perhaps not as much baggage to kobolds though. Kobolds don’t have the weight of Tolkien as a legacy and perhaps that’s why the tales of mine spirits have evolved into terrier-like mischief makers. The DDC has adopted a kobold baby – Odif – and there’s a new kobold in town by the name of Ufot Yloh, but I’ve also been tinkering around in Heroforge to make some new faces that may turn up in a game some time.

I’ve not given them any names other than Kobold Sorcerer and Kobold Artificer as yet. Sorcerers are natural casters of magic empowered by a draconic bloodline, so it made sense that a kobold would occasionally start being able to fling fireballs given their similar lineages and appearances. The Artificer is a natural extension of the kobold love of traps and inventions – so the appearance of a blunderbuss-style weapon in the hands of one seemed to fit their general feel.

I’m not sure how I’ll use them – maybe a one-shot delving into Odif’s lost family at some point. That has a certain appeal as it would be a very different feel from the adventures of the DDC. Maybe an adventure where all the players are Odif’s tribe and they’re hunting down the people who stole him away. That has a nice ring to it…

As ever, feel free to copy and use these tokens in your own games – and I’d love to hear stories of their adventures…

Short Story: Unquiet Jenny

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There’s something you need to know about magic and about the people who get mixed up in the real stuff. It’s all about the power of stories, and how we get caught up in them and by them. I used to say that all magic was about lying, but that turned out to be too simple a view.

I used to tell people that magic was the art of lying to the universe. I would say that the best liars could do it so well that people and places and events began to believe it. If I was feeling particularly facetious on any given day, I could point to any number of populist politicians to illustrate my point.

It turned out I was doing the universe a grave disservice in doing so, and it pushed back – but that’s a story for another time.

Did you see what I did there? Anyway, I was talking about the power that lies not only in tall tales but also in deep truth – and how both can be transformative. We talk of how people become local legends, if we’re kind, or about people being legends in their own lunchtimes if we’re being less kind.

People begin to be obscured sometimes by the stories we tell. If that sounds odd, go look up the origins of some local legend and see what happens when you dig in to find the person beneath it. Stories expand and embellish people, places, and events. They also simplify and streamline and softly erase the bits that don’t quite fit – like water across stones.

Magic is the art of recognising stories and using them.

There’s an oracle I occasionally call upon when I’m in search of lost things or lost people. They’re a reclusive soul, or at least that’s how I characterise them. Before they became what they are now, they lived a life that became smaller over the years. They were known simply as Jenny.

No one knows where Jenny came from. They’d laid claim to the small side alley between a sports equipment shop and a fried chicken franchise on the High Street for a few years before I came on the scene. The alley led to a rarely used fire escape from the back of a multistory carpark that I’m fairly sure had been all but forgotten by its owners.

Jenny had a stash of blankets, boxes, and assorted scavenged items that marked their spot. It was a hard life, with no end of attempts at intervention by police and social services. Those never came to much. There were ugly encounters with others surviving in the area, and with predators seeking easy meat.

Jenny wasn’t easy meat, and they looked out for newcomers too. Simple thuggery and threats were seen off with razor tongue and a handmade shiv if need be. More unusual things occasionally seeped into the story however – and that’s where we met a few times.

Jenny never talked about where they had come from. Their story was rooted in the simplicity of who they were now. Their magic came from the stability of being unyielding, and how that story cemented expectation on top of reputation and painted it with a veneer of watchfulness.

Jenny was always on the lookout, always watching. They always had a vigilance that underlaid their demeanour. They were always unsettled. They might be steady in the face of fae on the hunt for names or the blood of the guilty, but they were always Unquiet.

I always knew that Jenny could tell me things if they felt I needed to know it, but they always kept things close. Life on the streets is hard, and a diet of scavenged or donated fried chicken rarely helps health bloom. Jenny kept their own counsel even as they faded and wasted in their rough sibylline shelter.

No one knew they were fading. Their legend as a permanent resident and acid-tongued speaker of truths made people’s gaze slip past the real person. They became that person who would tell sudden observations from the shadows of an unlit alley. They would demand food for answers – a tribute for their time.

Over time, the whispered voice grew quieter, but was still there for those who listened. The owner of the voice may not be among the living any more, but Unquiet Jenny was still to be heard, and still offering words of advice to those deemed worthy.

The shrine to whatever resides in that alley now is decorated with old chicken bones and placated with fast food offerings by those in the know. If you’re lost in life, and you see a stack of old cartons by a wall, try to listen for a quiet but defiant voice. It may be looking out for you before you realise how lost you are.

Jenny became a story, like the witches of Pendle Hill or the pirates under black sails. I’m doing my part to keep that story going, and now you’ve heard their story, you’re keeping it alive for as long as you remember it.

And what do I get out of all this? Unquiet Jenny doesn’t want to rest. They still watch and advise, keeping ahead of something they never talked about in life – and I’m curious to find out what that untold story is. When they trust me, they’ll tell me. After that, we’ll see, and perhaps when all is done they won’t be restless any more.

Keep your ears open, believe your eyes, let’s find out what happens next.

Memories – Dungeons and Dragons

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I remember the first time I played Dungeons and Dragons – it was the early eighties and my Dad had a copy of the Basic box set. I must have had sight of it to read before hand and read it through but we didn’t play until one afternoon when my uncle and aunt, and some friends of my parents were round (I think) – and we played through the introductory adventure in the rulebook. It was a simple thing by today’s standards – lights seen in a deserted tower, brave adventurers investigating, bandits (or possibly goblins) lying in wait.

I played as a first level wizard and was killed by a giant spider – which was a bit disappointing as the whole concept of a character that could improve from game to game had me hooked. Barring playing another game where my Dad put on a game for me and some friends for my birthday that was it until I sold my brothers on the idea of playing. It all kind of bubbled along from there.

Going away to boarding school was the time that roleplay games really got their teeth into me – there was a Wargames club that embraced this new phenomenon and suddenly I had a steady roster of fellow misfits to play along with. Dragons were slain, mistakes were made, and a slew of new legends populated our conversations. I may have struggled sometimes to get the hang of economic theory and physics equations, but probablity calculations and mental arithmetic became second nature – and I could recite whole blocks of statistics and rules interpretations.

In retrospect I got a bit fixated on the game systems and the minutiae of the rules and features and how to interpret and present them in a narrative. I also found friends and a camaraderie that insulated me from the wider pressures of not being particularly bothered about sporting activity in a school environment that positively idolised it.

We met to play most days – a few hours here and there as time allowed in the afternoons between rugby, cricket, or cross-country running. The problems of scheduling times to meet didn’t exist because we were at a boarding school – there wasn’t anywhere else to go and this was a form of rebelilon that didn’t require hiding in bushes to avoid teachers, or persuading people to buy things we weren’t old enough to get for ourselves.

As a very closeted baby queer, it also opened my eyes to the concepts of choosing our own selves and values. In the game I could be flamboyant or hidden, a rogue or a paragon – and doing so wasn’t reliant on family or circumstances beyond what we could make for ourselves. It was aspirational and non-judgmental – and most importantly was played by people who banded together against a rigid push to behave in some arbitrary “normal” way that absolutely held no draw for any of us. We were a band of outlaws in our own eyes. We were polite and generally well-mannered rebels who each had our own peculiarities and just wanted to be left alone to get on with things.

There was no stigma to exploring new personas, gender expression, or sexuality – in some ways that felt like just window dressing to the experience of exploring these fantasy worlds and beating the villains. There may be a degree of rose-tinted spectacles over these memories but it is what has stuck and what has informed my journey onward and my expectations of the tables I play at and the people I play with.

An expectation of openness and acceptance for all at the table became part of my expectation of the people in my life – and perhaps there’s a measure of the valiant knight protecting the land that has come forward in how I try my best to champion and support the people around me at work and in my home life.

Today I went to see the new Dungeons and Dragons film – Honour Among Thieves – and was overjoyed at the energy and acceptance, the humour and the heart, the detail and the warmth that permeated the whole thing. Its been a hot minute since I’ve seen a film, got home, and wanted to go straight back out to watch it again. The found family of imperfect losers scheming and trying their hardest to do the right thing through increasingly over-complicated and morally dubious schemes just chimes with the gaming and life experiences of the boy I was, and the very odd man that I’ve grown to be. That’s no small thing for me.

Memory: A Risk Taken

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This is inspired by a daily prompt for writing I saw recently that invited people to write about a risky action that turned out well. With my philosophy of “what’s the worst that could happen?” I an spoiled for choice.

I could talk of stolen kisses or jobs applied for; of approvals given or appointments made – but the most life-changing was getting in touch with Lady M after she had moved to Switzerland.

We had been flatmates, and there was no denying a spark at the time. We also had existing partners (and I was also going through a divorce) so it was complicated. She took a job out there and left, and amid my general chaos the relationship I was in also ended.

A while later, we started talking online, and I took up an earlier offer to come visit. Despite the best efforts of airlines, weather, and air traffic control I duly made it out there – and was met by a shocked Lady M who had convinced herself I wasn’t going to be on the plane.

The spark ignited, and has blazed ever since through all the ups and downs of modern life. A risk well worth taking.

Articles Incoming

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In the next few weeks my name is going to be a bit more high profile at work. I shall of course greet this with my usual bemusement, but also some degree of pride. The pun isn’t intended for the first of the reasons – I’m featuring in a couple of videos talking about staff networks, and especially the LGBTQ+ Staff Network.

It’s part of a wider week focusing on and advertising the networks, and should be going live in a couple of week’s time. Filming it was a bit of fun – and while it’s mostly aimed for an internal audience, there are plans for an externally facing campaign as well.

The other thing is for a piece of writing I was invited to do around mental health and my experience working through and being supported in recent years. I approached it with my usual flat affect and detailed approach so have been going back and forth with various people to agree on trigger warnings and signposting for readers to support materials.

Someone has even called me brave, which is a bit flattering, maybe. There’s some complex processing I probably need to do there, but I’ll deal with that if I need to.

So, fun and games all round…