Wassail, traveler, and welcome to The Gable Grey -- a place of retreat, of renewal, and of resistance: a tree-shaded refuge in Dark Times. Now pass the threshold, and rest from journeys! For a cold wind is blowing; and here, if you wish, you may hear tidings of the world without...

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Back to the Fields I Know...

I am being sucked (albeit willingly) back into Middle-earth Role-playing.
I have not got any writing done. Much of my free time is spent prowling Ebay listings for MERP titles. Beyond that, I plot adventure scenarios and conjure up wierd characters for my imagined campaigns. It's almost as if I were still 17 years old, staying up till all hours rolling stats and perusing Treasures of Middle-earth as if it was a Christmas catalog for Elves, Dwarves, Men, and Hobbits. Want THAT sword, THAT elven-ring, THOSE boots...
This is becoming an increasingly frequent occurrence, this slip back into Endor. It's probably not a good thing, but I can't muster the will to care. I mean, I'm planning on eventually introducing elements of time-travel to my Third Age campaign, if certain characters survive long enough to become moderately powerful and at least locally famous (or notorious). Third Age characters testing their mettle in war-ravaged Beleriand? How cool is that??? I get giddy just thinking about it.

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Whiles carried o'er the iron road,
We hurry by some fair abode;
The garden bright amidst the hay,
The yellow wain upon the way,
The dining men, the wind that sweeps
Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps --
The gable grey, the hoary roof,
Here now -- and now so far aloof.
How sorely then we long to stay
And midst its sweetness wear the day,
And 'neath its changing shadows sit,
And feel ourselves a part of it.
Such rest, such stay, I strove to win
With these same leaves that lie herein.

-- William Morris, from
"The Roots of the Mountains"