Good morning, good afternoon, good evening everyone. Thank you for coming back. Grab yourself a drink and a snack, come sit by the hearth. Please, stay awhile and listen.

I love storytelling. It was the first artform I truly embraced, and was a comfort when I had no others. It’s something I prioritize with tabletops, I’m not as heavy into combat and powerscaling as some other DMs. Nothing wrong with min-maxing and combat focusing, it’s just not my style.

The Birth of a Phoenix

My favorite lore snippet written within the kingdom of Alamer is the story of Phoenix and the Dragon. The Phoenix is my favorite mythical creature, and I feel it is very representative of my journey through life.

I wouldn’t be the first to say depression is a beast of a thing to deal with (and that is phrasing it politely). Without getting too into the details, it was severe for me. I was deep in what felt like a lightless void, caught in a freefall. I was reaching for absent hands while wishing for wings.

I needed a beacon, for someone to believe in me for a moment.

Now, let me be clear, I absolutely despised writing for school. It was always a struggle to write essays and reports on whatever we were learning. There were a few times I didn’t mind it so much, mainly the more creative projects.

I think at least one of my high school teachers still remembers the stark difference in the effort I made when it came to creative writing. My favorite teacher was Mrs. Robertson, who I had two separate years in high school, during my second and fourth years. She was a no nonsense woman, but if you weren’t a troublemaker she was supportive and kind.

I remember she was one of the few teachers who saw potential in my creative works. I had previously done somewhat well the first time I had her, so there was a soft expectation I’d do well again. Unfortunately by mid-semester, I was failing her class. I had failed the mid-term essay assignment quite significantly.

She showed me my grades and looked me in the eyes. “I know you can do better.”

The way she said it sticks with me. There was something in her voice. It wasn’t harsh, it wasn’t the sound of disappointment. It was honest and certain.

I responded.

“I will do better.”

It was a turning point that I didn’t know that started. It was incredibly important I heard those words and took it to heart. Here was one person who voiced that they believed in my potential.

It was the start of a fight to free myself from my severe depression. I had been feeling so lost at the time. I was in a sort of pain that I couldn’t voice. I was going through things that I have told very few people about.

Mrs. Robertson had lit the match that started a fire.

My first project after the mid-semester exam I set out to prove her right. We had moved on to Shakespeare, and we were exploring his sonnets. We were challenged to write and perform our own sonnets, graded on requirements such as using iambic pentameter. We were offered bonus points for every additional literary device we could fit into our sonnets. I set out to do three, of which I had selected carefully to fit within the additional graduation theme requirement. I’m rather average in the poetry department; I enjoy it, but it’s not something I’d like to focus on pursuing.

Mrs. Robertson was beaming with pride when I performed my sonnet for the class and the principal who had stopped by. I can recall the validating empowerment I felt when I caught her smile; the impact it had on me still makes me misty-eyed.

My final score for that project was 110 out of 100 points, meeting and exceeding all requirements. I had ended up with ten different devices, unintentionally. To this day, I don’t know how I didn’t clock the additional devices, despite having a page of literary devices with examples to reference.

After the project, I had a brief conversation with Mrs. Robertson. It was mainly about the assignment, but what she said at the end is what convinced me to start writing Chronicles of Alamer again.

“If you ever need a letter of recommendation, I’d be happy to write you one.”

To say that offer meant a lot I feel is an understatement. To me, it was proof I was capable of something. Someone saw something in me that wasn’t just my flaws. She showed me I had wings, and she showed me a light in the void.

Phoenixes go through stages in life, periodically reborn from ashes. I had a major health crisis a few years later, after I had fallen in love with tabletop gaming, and went through the cycle of rebirth again while my friend group drastically shifted. I’ve chosen to address that failure another time, as my first campaign ended shortly after that incident, along with an unfortunate loss of friends.

As I began writing again, both for my books and tabletops, I decided that I wanted to take inspiration from my favorite movies, videogames, and books to tell the stories I wanted to tell. There were elements that brought me comfort in the darkest of times: true love, hope, justice, and choosing to continue on despite the adversities I face.

As You Wish

Without a single doubt in my mind, The Princess Bride is my number one favorite movie. Unapologetically so, I can quote the movie rather extensively on my own.

My family and I have seen that movie so many times, and it’s one of the earliest non-animated films that I remember watching frequently from childhood. It was so beloved by my family that it was enjoyed not only by my parents, but my grandparents as well.

There were countless times during the Sunday Family get-togethers at my grandparents’ house where we’d be gathered in the living room, the adults having conversation, flipping through channels whenever sports weren’t on. Inevitably, I don’t know how, eventually we’d come across the movie on one of the film channels almost without fail. 

Picture it, six adults and four children, enrapt in watching a movie that has “fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles.”

On those Sunday watches, we always managed to start close to one of my favorite scenes: the fencing duel between Westley and Inigo. Ignoring the action itself (swish-swish clang-clang), it’s the dialogue that always comes to mind for me.

The dialogue exchanged between Westley and Inigo is more than just “ha ha, I have you now!” It is a masterclass in playful and intellectual one-upmanship. It’s more than a fight between the hero and an obstacle, there’s a verbal dance that reveals layers of character and wit. They speak of skill and honor, of preparation and actively challenging one another in fencing and personal motivations.

Inigo is probably my go-to example of characters that truly embodies the ideals of honor, and I think this scene shines on that. From the moment he’s told to stop Westley if he reaches the top of the cliff, Inigo insists on doing the deed his way. Not his employer’s way, his. He offers rope to help his perceived enemy up, offers a chance to recover from the climb, and even shares his back story and goals, all before lifting his blade. Even when he and Westley do start exchanging blows, he compliments his opponent’s skill.

Honestly, take a few minutes and watch the scene. Lose yourself for but a moment:

I still am fairly active in the tabletop scene, playing with my dearest friends every Saturday. My character is Caessandra Derich, and she was very much inspired by both Westley and Inigo in several ways. She’s become a pirate captain (though not as fearsome as the Dread Pirate Roberts), skilled with a rapier, and not left-handed. Her beliefs revolve around love, true and honest love. She chooses honor and sticks to the disciplines she was taught, and is now learning to do things her way.

Now, let’s take a brief and broader look at the movie itself. The opening scene of the movie is not immediately about the Princess and her hero, no no. It is a grandfather, visiting his sick grandson, passing on a tradition through storytelling.

“When I was your age, television was called books. And this is a special book. It was the book my father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your father. And today I’m gonna read it to you.”

– The Grandfather, The Princess Bride

Storytelling has a very very long history. From ancient cave art, cuneiform and pictographs to modern literature detailing the future of the ever changing landscape that is our reality, we continue telling stories. 

Rising from Ruin

Funny enough, despite my favorite videogame series being Legend of Zelda, my favorite videogame character actually isn’t from the series at all. Nothing wrong with those characters, I love them dearly. Legend of Zelda will always hold a special place in my heart as the first handheld console games I played.

My favorite videogame character comes from Blizzard’s Diablo franchise. 

My first exposure to the Diablo series was from watching my parents play Diablo II together. Imagine a ten-year-old little girl, curled up at her mother’s feet, eyes fixed to the computer screen. Imagine her mystification, watching in a near trance as her mother, a sorceress swinging her staff, a bolt of fire rocketing off of it. The surprising excitement, turning to her father’s screen, seeing a barbarian entering combat in a flurry of blows, tanking hits and dealing damage back.

My favorite character however, was an NPC, arguably one of the more important ones. The Archangel of Justice Tyrael, wielder of the sword El’druin, the Sword of Justice. His characterization in Diablo III is my favorite iteration of the character, as he is given such incredible depth.

Diablo III is over a decade old now, so I’ll not be hiding details with spoilers. I’ll avoid rehashing the entire plot; instead I’ll focus on one of his best scenes, which we see play out in full at the end of Act 1.

It is a somber scene to start. Outside, under the dark night sky, a fallen man lying on an unlit pyre. His niece is at his side, saying her goodbyes. Tyrael, angel no longer, approaches, expresses sympathy. The niece lashes out.

“What do you know of sacrifice?”

So he shows her how he became mortal, sharing his memory of what happened. In Diablo II, we previously saw him as a faceless angel, and now he is mortal like most of the inhabitants of Sanctuary. Picture a council of other Angels, all eerily faceless, expressing anger for him stepping in and helping humanity against the Evils of the second game, angelic laws were broken. Tyrael stood trial. He comes to blows with another Archangel, Imperius.

Then he decides for himself what he must do.

“You cannot judge me! I am Justice itself! We were meant for more than this! To protect the innocent! But if our precious laws bind you to inaction- then I will no longer stand as your brother.”

– Tyrael, Diablo III

In a moment of pure badassery, Tyrael tears off his angelic wings, letting go of his immortality and ethereal essence. He fell, willingly. He proceeds to go through the events of Diablo III as a mortal, experiencing the struggles against the influences of Evil himself.

Please, if you would once more, check out the scene for yourself:

For those of you familiar with my one-shot character Siselle Albright, Tyrael was her inspiration. Classic Aasimar Cleric, wielder of her own Scimitar of Justice. I played her like a young adult on their own for the first time. Sure she had her training in a monastery, she is a devout follower of Pelor, and held tight to the ideals of acceptance, forgiveness, and redemption, but full of uncertainty.

In Diablo III, Tyrael himself experiences moments that make him more human, and he rises from it all, especially by the end of the game. The original ending, ignoring the DLC’s rather cool introduction of a missing member of the angelic council, we see Tyrael ascending back into that very council he left, this time with wisdom, knowledge, and his humanity.

I use Tyrael as a model for a character in my Aftermath campaign, central to the plot alongside the players. The Aftermath campaign itself is also inspired by Diablo III. I liked the concept of fighting the Seven Deadly Sins, but flavored more to the dark and twisted beings that make up the Lords of Hell. Even in the Chronicle books, I still draw from the same inspiration, the gritty and bleak start of the first book to the unwavering determination and hope of the main character Alyssah.

Flight of the Phoenix

Hope, redemption, and unwavering belief in both love and justice fuel my creativity and the stories I tell. Be it facing my own darkness or plotting the final battle against the Dark One, these are the threads of inspiration in a luminous weave.

Of course, my story is not yet done. I still have much to tell, experiences to share, so I must wrap up for now. 

Goodnight, sleep tight, I will see you again soon.