Sundays gaming- A group of people gathered together to build worlds and fill them with adventure. One friend running GURPS, me with my D&D 3.5 edition, and a bunch of old NPC Friends. The smell of Totinos Pizza rolls, or Cheetos, The subtle hiss of Mountain dew breathing in the afternoon as it slowly lost it's fizz over melting ice. The sound of the dice. The sound of elation of a natural 20, or the rueful chuckle of a critical fumble, and the anticipation of what shit was going to follow. The core group eventually traded dice for discourse and morphed into the amateurskeptics podcast. we still meet on Sundays but not to build worlds.
I Miss my old NPCs. they are still here, in the back of my mind, but I find their voices are getting dimmer over time, and there is less excitement over "what would _____ do in this situation." The last time I thought about one of my old characters seriously was considering my powerful blacksmith paladin's version of the "Taken" speech(There are two scenarios here- one of them has you opening the gate, and the other has me taking down the wall, and going through everyone inside...). He came out to play for a few minutes and then life took over again. And Alex retreated back into the recesses of my mind.
So in an effort to properly memorialize him... His Story
Born a fraternal Twin to an elven princess and a psychopathic barbarian, Alex grew strong, and tall for a half-elf: full Six foot five. He loved Swords, loved armor and at length, fell to worshiping the blacksmith god, who named him a truesmith paladin and granted him powers...
Powers to recover from nearly any injury- to heal others with his fiery blood- to forge not just great weapons and armor, but to cast enchantments into them with his blacksmiths song- to spot the flaws in others crafting and to strike those flaws- to heat metal by touch, and to be immune to heat himself....
He found, and raised to Adulthood a red dragon, whom he named Napalm, and used as a mount. He adventured across worlds, bringing words of his god of progress and industry to all and bringing back many followers, until he was not merely his god's Paladin, but nearly his avatar. He found a woman, his equal in battle, matching his power with her speed and subtlety.
In a lot of ways, he was too perfect- too much a wish-fulfillment-a lot of his progress was made not in other peoples games but in my own, as I told his tale as a background character, and his legend grew.
I like to think that he's still out there somewhere, happy, adventuring, fighting, crafting new and better blades and armor among the worlds. Perhaps someday I will dredge him up again and see where he's been. But for now, Alexander Kraneth, I miss you;.