Let us cast our minds back to the early days of fantasy role-playing... In the early '70s, Ed Whitechurch ran "his game," and one of the participants was Eric Sorenson, a veritable giant of a man. This story is essentially true: I knew both Ed and Eric, and neither denies it (although Eric, for reasons that will become apparent, never repeats it). The gist of it is that Eric... well, you need a bit more about Eric. Eric comes quite close to being a computer. When he games, he methodically considers each possibility before choosing his preferred option. If given time, he will invariably pick the optimum solution. It has been known to take weeks. He is otherwise in all respects a superior gamer, and I've spent many happy hours competing with and against him, as long as he is given enough time. So... Eric was playing a neutral paladin (Why should only lawful, good religions get to have holy warriors? was the rationale) in Ed's game. He even had a holy sword, which fought well and did all those things holy swords are supposed to do, including good or evil (by random die roll). He was on some lord's lands when the following exchange occurred: ED: You see a well-groomed garden. In the middle, on a small
hill, you see a gazebo. At this point, the increasingly amused fellow party members restored a modicum of order by explaining what a gazebo is. This is solely an afterthought, of course, but Eric is doubly lucky that the gazebo was not situated on a grassy knoll. [Reprinted from the SIG's fall '87 Spellbook #13, edited by Corey and Lori Cole, via Mensanity, Lewis Wasserman, ed. Send your compliments to the author along with your subscription to the SIG newsletter ($8) in care of L Mary H. Kelly, 4030 Valley View Lane #233, Farmers Branch, TX 75244.] |