Excerpts from a journal . . .

Posted: January 23, 2014 in LARP

The following is a recount of some of my in character thoughts and observations from the Oz LARP I recently attended.

Excerpts from the journal of LeRoy “Last Chance” Devereaux.

My arrival in Horizon’s Stronghold was quiet, just one more traveler stopping in town to rest and recreate.  The Red Poppy is an excellent place to stop and get something to knock the dust out of your throat.  The cast of characters I have met would charm the brothers Grimm right out of their fairy tales.

The Glass family and their servants run the Poppy.  Miss Glass herself is a lovely woman with expansive . . . holdings.  I think very little of her brother.  He strikes me as someone who should say less and listen more.  Momma Deveraux always said, “The less you say, the wiser you seem.”

The residents of the Red Poppy are both disturbing and magical.  Immortals and changelings.  The former are a race of long lived people with pointy ears that live closely with the magic of this land.  I find changelings to be far more charming as the thought of someone who can shift from animal to human form is easier to accept than the idea of dealing with someone who has lived for hundreds of years.  Clawdette, a swamp rat, reminds me of the bayous where I grew up.  Azra, the skunk girl, was off putting at first due to my earthly prejudice in such matter regarding skunks.  However, she proved to be thoroughly charming and I would not hesitate to spend time with either of these creatures.

Since I have been in Oz these eight months I have taken on a plethora of odd jobs to help support some of my favorite hobbies, namely eating, drinking, and generally carousing.  This place is awash in terror and beauty.  Gems that would fetch a great fortune on Earth are regarded as common place here.  Earthlings, referred to as Storm Riders, have brought the machinations of the burgeoning industrial age to this land of magic and the hybrid civilization and culture which is emerging is unlike anything one can imagine.  Shakespeare’s Oberon never ruled over a world of wonder such as this.  DaVinci and Titian never knew such pallets and Bosch never dreamt up such nightmares in his most abyssal state of mind.

I had two parcels to deliver in town, both of them rare firearms.  The first was to Marshal Silver.  He was pleased to holster his new sidearm and was most generous in his thanks and payment.  I hope that it serves him well.  The second firearm to be delivered was a gift for the Ozian holiday of Lurlinemas.  This was delivered to a military man of great import.  I myself was gifted with a fine heavy blade.  In the trying times which have befallen Oz, it seems one can never have too many defenses.

I see many business opportunities in this place.  I find I must cultivate ties among the locals as many of my fellow Storm Riders are quite caught up in matters of their own.

I have spent some time in the company of Rockwell, another magical being, a Gnome of some stature and a fierce warrior.  I spent some time playing cards with him as well as a rather laconic scout, an admirable lioness and tiny woman who is to all appearances the incarnation of Death.  Esmerelda, the lioness, is a lovely companion and the scout, Captain Jeb, is one of the few people I have met who can walk down a path without making more noise than a herd of elephants.  One would think he was raised in a bayou.

Another recent companion, Marshal Roman, is a good sort for a law man.  He too is a Storm Rider and so far as I know his status as a law dawg is not recognized in Oz.  He is a good one to have on your side in a gunfight though.  He carries one of the few long rifles I have seen in Oz.

It has not touched Horizon’s Stronghold overly much but there is famine in Oz.  This land was unaccustomed to winter or seasonal changes until recently so stores across the land are rapidly dwindling.  This has created a certain desperation across the countryside which more than once has ended in untimely death due to lead poisoning.


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