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DISCORDIAN BLISS

Short Stories, Fan Art, Reviews and Random Thoughts

Featured


THE BOOKWORM

Art commission by @javi_draws

This is an Assassin’s Creed Short Story set in the time of Valhalla

 


THE BOOKWORM – PART 1

 

Absolute Silence. Hanna peered through the thin gap at the door outside at the
thick billowing fog that had settled in the dark hours before dawn. It was eerie
how it seemed to suffocate all sound. She had been lying awake, but the long
absence of even the creak of a tree limb alerted her to what else she could not
hear, her warden’s horse. The same she had been responsible for putting to
stable the prior night. She’d have no skin left after the lashing she was sure
to receive.

Moving from near slumber to alert in an instant she quietly slipped out the
door, confirming immediately her fears. The horse was no where to be seen, and
the unusual fog and predawn false light seemed to have swallowed the entire
village past the low stone fence at the edge of the yard. Even the bare limbs of
the great tree she woke to every morning were but suggestions of a shape in the
mist. She pulled her worn blanket over her arms and made her way into the yard.

She was afraid to call after the horse only to wake her warden or his
mean-spirited son, Brandon. She scowled at the thought of his mocking sneer. Her
cheek and eye still hurt from where he had struck her with a rock, but she got
even. Her scowl twisted into a smile as she recalled his expression when he was
told he would also be whipped for the rock fight he insisted she had started.
So, what if she had? He was not the only of the children in the village who was
mean, just the meanest. They teased her for being tall. For not having a family,
and for where she was from. Most days quiet indifference stung worse than words,
but Brandon clearly resented her.

She walked gingerly through the thorny grass in her bare feet until she had
checked everywhere close to the small home. Winnifred had left, which was
uncharacteristic for her after dark. Or Freyja, as Hanna would call her in
solitude; as they both had two names.

Hanna made her way up the worn path toward the middle of the village, where the
weathered stone chapel towered over the surrounding village and small garrison
nearby. This was where she would usually walk the horse each morning. With a
sigh of relief, she found Winnifred eating flowers near the great wooden chapel
doors. She patted the horse lovingly as her gaze wandered to the darkened glass
windows above. To her surprise there was a faint flicker of light from inside.
She looked both ways, in one direction a lone watchman struggled to stay awake
under his torch, and the other way not a soul in sight. Then she noticed one of
the great wooden chapel doors was slightly ajar. Whispering a kind word to the
horse, Hanna stepped closer to peek inside.

The light came from a few candles at a large table at the far end of the main
chamber, where several parchments lay rolled next to a heavy bound book. A book
she breathed, staring with wide eyes. The horse continued to graze on the bright
petals nearby. Hanna looked twice and slipped into the chapel. Someone had been
here just minutes before she was sure, but she could not contain her curiosity.
Before she had come into the care of her warden, she had just started to learn
letters and remained fascinated by reading. Sometimes she would lay awake
dreaming of stories of ancient libraries told to her by the Skald who visited
the settlement she grew up in, among her earliest memories which now felt like a
life ago. A life when she lived with the Northmen.

She had been told she was of Saxon birth but taken young as a servant to
invading Vikings. Sometimes she thought she could remember the longships, but
her warden would chide her that she was far too young at the time to possibly
recall that. He made no illusion of his disdain for her time there in servitude,
which she now only recalled with fond memory. It was hard work, but life with
the Northmen felt freer than the oppression she felt today. Since the soldiers
saved her, as she was often reminded. Saved, as the settlement she grew up in
was burnt and the Northmen scattered or killed. Saved, and given a new name they
preferred the sound of.

Her feet had carried her carefully through the main chamber, expecting at any
moment to discover somebody there. She reached the large table with no one else
in sight. She studied the shadows intently; the candles could not have burnt as
such for long. Then her eyes fixed on the prize at the center of the light, the
lone massive book. Its reinforced cover was intricate leather work and precious
stone inlays. Surely this was too valuable to just be carelessly left out. The
edge of the pages shone like gold. Midway through the pages there was a
disturbed edge, as if it had been handled roughly. She opened it to the spot.
The brilliant colors leapt off the page into her eyes like a vivid dream.
Illustrations of men dressed like kings and row after row of careful tight
script filled the page. She noticed a bit of the prior page was torn. No, not
torn, an entire page was missing but for a corner. Who would damage such a
priceless wonder?

She turned her attention to the rolls of parchment. One was held flat by the
candle and a decorative knife. This looked like something a man she had seen at
the garrison carrying. Neat rows of words paired with numbers. A list of things
for the soldiers, she guessed. A sudden waver in the light caught her attention.
A draft came from the door, now open wide. She heard hurried footsteps outside,
but they were not coming for her. Winnifred made a nervous sound. Next, she
heard the village bell.

They were being attacked.

The garrison was alive with commotion as soldiers rushed to down the hill
towards the banks of the river where she could hear the first indistinct sounds
of men shouting, weapons striking shields and the dull rumble of many boots. She
could smell smoke. Then from nearby a familiar voice, Brandon. He had spotted
Winnifred and was trying to guide the horse, who was objecting. Winnifred did
not like him and when he got frustrated the horse listened even less.

“Hanna!” Brandon yelled out as he struggled with the horse before repeating his
cry. He had come searching for her and the horse.

Hanna reverently closed the wondrous book and pinched the candles out as she
prepared to quickly leave. Outside she found Brandon red in the face and dressed
in a riding coat. In his fist he had doubled the end of a rope and was rising
his hand to strike the defiant horse. Hanna caught his fist, gaze locked steady
with his. In the eyes of the slightly older boy a flicker of fear, quickly
replaced by anger.

“We have to go,” he shouted at her. “Now!”

Hanna took the tack and bridle from Brandon and helped put it on Winnifred,
soothing the horse until Brandon was able to mount. She caught herself looking
back into the chapel at the now dark table and book. Her feet felt heavy,
something was amiss and even with the approaching din of battle she felt
compelled to sort out why. Who had been there minutes before her looking at the
book?

“Come on!” Brandon bellowed at her. Then, a burning arrow struck near where they
stood. The glow of burning roofs from down the hill now illuminated the fog with
a harrowing light.

“Freyja, go!” Hanna commanded, a crack in her voice. Hanna refused to get on
with him. To Brandon’s protest the horse obediently started towards their home
without her. Hanna trusted she would get them there, where his father was surely
waiting so they could flee. She watched as they disappeared.

Footsteps approached where the watchman one stood, and Hanna slipped back inside
the chapel and quickly hid in an adjoining chamber not far from the table. Two
Vikings, one of broad shoulders with a bloodied great axe and the other taller,
older with numerous scars and one blind eye. The latter carried a torch as they
pushed open the chapel doors and began rummaging for anything of value. It did
not take long for the elder of the two to come to a standstill at the table. She
could hear them discussing something they were looking for; the book she now
held where she hid. She recognized the dialect. They were not of the same ätt as
her childhood family, but one she remembered to be a neighbor with a storied
history of raiding.

A third raider approached the chapel. “Is it here?” the woman called to the two
men as she entered. Her torchlight quickly met near where the others were
searching, just narrowly out of Hanna’s line of sight. Her idea of sneaking out
the door when they moved to search the rear of the great chamber was seeming a
little less bright by the minute. The Vikings split up, turning through coffers
and shelves, torch light casting long shadows everywhere. Slowly they made their
way to the rear of the chamber as Hanna had hoped.

Hanna tip toed from her hiding spot and made a quiet dash to the door, only to
come face to face with the keen point of an axe. The woman raider was taller
than her, rows of blond braids framing her war painted face. “Ooh,” the woman
spoke in a sing-song tone as Hanna froze. “Light reading?” She joked, lowering
her axe. The other men stood near silently as if by command, watching. Outside
the sounds of fighting was growing quiet. Hanna smelled rain.

“Someone was here,” Hanna replied in the tongue of her youth. All three raiders
expressions shifted in response. “There are pages torn out,” she continued as
she handed the book to the woman.

They opened the book; the eldest let out a whistle of appreciation. Observing
the same missing pages she closed the book and began checking the situation
outside. “Girl, what is your name?” the Viking woman demanded. “Do you read?”

“Hanna,” she replied, clearing her throat. “I mean, Hadda” she corrected
bashfully. “And no. I want to learn to read.” She added.

The woman turned to face her directly. “How do you feel about sailing?”

 

continued in part 2


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Author dobfankrisPosted on September 17, 2020September 25, 2021Categories
fanfic, gamingTags AC Valhalla, ACSisterhood, assassin's creed, fanfic, fiction,
writing4 Comments on The Bookworm


MORE TOTALLY UNNECESSARY CHARACTER BACKSTORY – DIABLO IV NECROMANCER

A short story set in the world of Diablo IV

Beyond the sealed door of the buried temple a series of stairs descended from
the aboveground world like a runaway blasphemous thought. Corizande stepped
lightly, her skeletal minions matching her quiet step for step. She followed a
whisper, the unquiet dead. A distant friend she had seen fall in a dream who now
haunted her. The compulsion had led her here on the trail of whatever demon had
slain him.

              The dust suspended in the still air did not yield for them,
resisting the slightest breeze as if even the air was dead down here. The only
illumination other than her conjured light was a soft glow from green mineral
veins that permeated the stone around them. Unlike the manmade mines and temple
above, the underworld below seemed untouched since the old gods had hewn it.

              Reaching a landing in the subterranean cavern she commanded her
light ahead of her, examining the precisely cut stone floor marked with a
massive metal seal, imprinted by forgotten magic into a mural of the demon whose
voice Corizande knew. Corizande’s book of spells hovered in the air over her
open hand, pages turning by her thoughts. The silence here was imperfect, the
air thick with a scent like iron and filth, some she recognized as the cruel
Fallen that had spilled from the depths into the valley throughout the long
winter. Corizande knew she was not alone.

              She pulled the loom woven cloth armor tight over her shoulders,
its pale blue from dye a secret only her coven knew. Sewn into it and her long
gloves were ancient coins of bronze inscribed with forbidden verses. Together
they radiated a formidable shield, strong enough to protect her from the common
threats of the worn roads of home at least. Against the hordes of Hell, it had
been barely enough to get her this far. To her credit, her devotion to dark
magic also afforded her a personal guard of animated dead, her skeletal
skirmishers and hollow-eyed spellcasters. Against the Fallen she often needed
not raise a finger herself to fight, but whatever fiend had drawn her colleague
here was anything but common hellspawn. Somewhere in the dark lurked a much more
powerful foe.

              Not ten paces beyond the seal Corizande found the first signs she
had been looking for: piled corpses of Fallen and cursed beasts torn, frozen or
incinerated by the high magic of a sorcerer. This was the work of her lost
friend, a trail of destruction that bore his signature appetite for destructive
elemental forces. She recalled his kind dark eyes, warm smile and infectious
laughter. He was an arrogant son of a bitch, but had treated her with uncommon
respect which earned her friendship. Today she repaid that respect by finding
the monster that had been his match.

              The carnage led her room after room of the same, her minions
dispatching stragglers and other lesser Fallen lurking about to loot the dead.
The trail led lower until she encountered a series of previously sealed gates
that now lay open. Dried blood magic runes on the floor betrayed the nature of
the foe she pursued, along with strange, scattered petals. They were red like
roses but made the hair of her neck stand on end. The sensation felt like
creeping madness, but one that bore dark wings and had heavy cloven footsteps.
Not just any demon, but one she knew. The same on the seal she passed as she
entered; Lilith. Daughter of Hatred.

              Finally she arrived at the bottom of the cavern, a dark lake that
suffocated the last beam of her magic light until only pale ambience remained. A
long polished stone path extended over the edge of the lake, like an unfinished
bridge between worlds. The floor was covered by interconnected blood runes, some
of them still wet. At the far end of the open space she could see a figure
knelt, back facing her as they continued inscribing the summoning spell. A
barrier of blood magic surrounded the figure, who was breathing erratically. As
Corizande approached she could make out it was a woman not many years older than
her, seemingly driven mad by the same demonic voices. Nearby was the broken body
of her friend, his staff shattered not far from his lifeless hands.

              The woman, who was stammering under her breath to someone
Corizande could not see, glanced at her nervously and hurried to continue her
blood inscription. Corizande’s skeletal guard drew close around her as movement
began increasing beyond the edge of her waning light. Corizande turned her wand
to the body of her friend.

              “Speak’, she uttered. A faint image of her friend appeared like a
spirit above him, but beyond the veil he was unable to reply. He simply signed
thank you and nodded his head in a final act of parting.

              Corizande was not numb to the sting of grief at the sight. She
blinked away fresh tears and fought a well of emotion as the clamor of
approaching monsters grew louder. The woman started laughing as the blood runes
on the floor began to glow bright red. Swirling clouds of choking darkness
rushed into the space, forming a horde of demons flanked by beasts, winged
succubus and a towering monstrosity wielding a blade of bones. His weapon
crashed into the shields of her skeletal soldiers even before his hooves touched
the stone. The chaos grew into a deafening pitch as her spellcasters rained dark
bolts on her enemies. She pointed her wand at her departed friend.

              “Rise, and be avenged”


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Author dobfankrisPosted on March 30, 2023March 30, 2023Categories fanfic,
fantasy, gaming, online gamingTags character backstory, Daughter of Hatred,
diablo 4, diablo iv, fanfic, Lilith, necromancer, rpg, writingLeave a comment on
More Totally Unnecessary Character Backstory – Diablo IV Necromancer


SO, I ASKED BING AI TO WRITE A CHARACTER BACKSTORY

This is a bit of a departure from my usual content, but I could not resist
sharing the results. I asked the Bing AI to write an example of a character
backstory for a Rogue in Diablo IV. I do not know the data set it is trained on
or whose work it may have dredged to create this, but I was impressed at how
specific it got. What follows is the output from my single sentence prompt, no
edits.

> Your name is Zara, a female human rogue who specializes in Exploit Weakness
> and Shadow Imbuement. You were born in the city of Westmarch, where you grew
> up as an orphan on the streets. You learned to survive by stealing, lying, and
> fighting. You also developed a keen sense of observation and a knack for
> finding and exploiting your enemies’ weak spots.
> 
> One day, you caught the eye of a mysterious woman named Lilith, who offered
> you a place in her secret cult. She promised you power, wealth, and freedom in
> exchange for your loyalty and service. You accepted, hoping to find a new
> purpose and a new family. You became one of her most trusted agents, carrying
> out her orders and spreading her influence across Sanctuary.
> 
> You learned to imbue your weapons with shadow magic, making them more deadly
> and unpredictable. You also mastered the art of creating shadow clones, which
> you used to confuse and ambush your foes. You enjoyed the thrill of hunting
> down and eliminating Lilith’s enemies, whether they were demons, angels, or
> humans. You felt no remorse or pity for your victims, only satisfaction and
> pride.
> 
> However, as time went on, you began to notice that Lilith was not what she
> seemed. She was cruel, manipulative, and obsessed with her own agenda. She
> cared nothing for you or the other cultists, only for her own power and glory.
> She also had a dark secret that she kept hidden from everyone: she was the
> daughter of Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred, and the mother of the Nephalem, the
> first humans.
> 
> You realized that Lilith was using you and the other cultists as pawns in her
> grand scheme to overthrow the High Heavens and the Burning Hells, and to
> create a new world order under her rule. You also learned that she was
> planning to unleash a terrible evil upon Sanctuary: the Worldstone, a powerful
> artifact that could shape reality itself. She intended to corrupt it with her
> blood and use it to create an army of loyal Nephalem who would serve her as
> gods.
> 
> You decided that you had enough of Lilith’s lies and tyranny. You resolved to
> stop her before it was too late. You gathered some allies who shared your
> doubts and suspicions, and prepared to confront Lilith at her lair. You knew
> it would be a dangerous and suicidal mission, but you had nothing left to
> lose. You hoped to find redemption for your sins, or at least a worthy death.
> 
> Bing AI


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Author dobfankrisPosted on March 29, 2023Categories fanfic, gaming, online
gaming, technologyTags ai, ai generated content, bing, diablo 4, diablo iv,
fanfic, writingLeave a comment on So, I asked Bing AI to write a
character backstory


DIABLO IV BETA IMPRESSIONS

Returning to Hell? Bring a friend.

Following the lessons of transitioning Diablo from PC to Console and adapting it
for regular new content and seasonal activities, the team at Activision-Blizzard
set out to build a new experience from the ground up for the current generation
of game systems. The result is far from just a new coat of paint on an old
dungeon crawler. What begins with a hint of the familiar during character
creation around a campfire quickly leaps into something new, something bigger.
These are my impressions, followed by some feedback from both my wife and I.

Diablo 4 establishes itself right away as different, from the way the story is
told to the scale of the world we arrive in. To say that the game is darker is
both an understatement and an oversimplification. The world is more detailed and
densely populated, both with foes and things and places to discover. Familiar
enemies seem more dangerous, and the puzzles feel fresh.

My wife and I both chose the second tier of difficulty as we had played the
previous titles on higher difficulty and found the challenge was worthy. It felt
tuned to be just on the cusp of too difficult to play solo, and ideal in a party
of two. The dungeons, bosses and some elites are significantly harder than
Diablo 3, requiring much more attention to gear and skill choice earlier in the
game. It adds up to gameplay that is immediately engaging and difficult to put
down. We spent most of the weekend playing and felt like we had barely scratched
the surface.

Diablo 4 is also a feast for the ears. I love the choice of haunting music and
ambient sounds. The effects feel more dramatic, the hits land harder. The audio
team really outdid themselves in weaving a vibrant atmosphere.

As for the gameplay itself, it was evident the game was still in beta. There
were numerous minor bugs, although neither my wife or I ran into excessive
crashing. She played first a Barbarian and found that the difficulty for melee
characters in the early boss fights was very steep compared to ranged
characters. This evened out somewhat later, although the toughest encounters
still seemed extra punishing for characters that rely on sustained close-range
attacks to fuel their stronger abilities. I played a Rogue and enjoyed the
challenge, although I feel some of the abilities when combined with the right
gear were probably overpowered in all but the toughest encounters, especially
how shadow-imbued attacks scale with gear that augments the core damage attacks.

It was nice to run into as many players in the world as we did, which made the
world feel that much more alive. The above world encounters scaled well to the
number of players, leading to unprecedented mayhem in challenging encounters.
The variety of these was also refreshing, and they were frequent enough that it
was not hard to find something to do when you ventured away from the safety of
town. It was also not uncommon to discover an overworld boss or challenge far
more difficult than a small group can manage, which encourages groups of players
to work together.

Between side quests, overworld events, world bosses, numerous dungeons and other
things to explore for, we felt like there was no shortage of things to do. By
the end of the weekend there was a staggering number of side quests available on
top of a quickly growing challenge by level 20. I felt very attached to my
character after two short days. He was not just another rogue. With the level of
customization and depth of the skill tree and gear choices I felt strongly that
he was my rogue, and this is a pretty big step for the Diablo series where
characters once were nearly indistinguishable from one another. Our heroes get
more screen time than in the past, too, including improved cutscene mechanics
where we get to see our customized characters up close, and in speaking roles.

I believe this is one of the ways Diablo IV shines the brightest. Even at the
title screen, our hero is close enough to admire the detail of the armor,
tattoos and even the glean of sweat on their skin. It is not just a gritty, dark
world. It is further removed from the arcade feel of its predecessors. From an
early point in the game, it makes it easy to customize your armor and weapon
appearances based on items you have found without punitive cost. We could tell
this was a popular feature based on the number of strangers we ran into near the
first area where your wardrobe can be managed.

I hope the teams that planned and built these areas and experiences looked down
on crowded Kyovashad with pride. It was certainly a sight to behold.

My wife and I eagerly await our return to Fractured Peaks when the game is
released later this year.




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Author dobfankrisPosted on March 20, 2023Categories gaming, online gamingTags
beta, diablo 4, diablo beta, diablo iv, fan review, first impressions, xboxLeave
a comment on Diablo IV Beta Impressions


THOUGHTS ON THE STATE OF AI IN 2022

AI certainly gets a bad reputation from Hollywood, where it is often shown in
ways that either threaten mankind or subvert social norms in a way that makes us
uncomfortable. If that wasn’t bad enough, real life applications for AI and
machine learning are often of cruel intent, like the automated machine gun
turrets in the occupied West Bank and software written to create facial
recognition “digital fences” targeting immigrants and other vulnerable
populations. Add in a scare about police robots with “lethal force”
authorization coupled with a personal data privacy crisis and people have every
right to be wary of semi-autonomous and completely autonomous AI and robot
systems today and in the near future. But not all of machine learning, AI and
similar algorithms are out to do harm.

In the tail of a second year of one of the worst pandemics in human history, the
need to limit close human interaction has many of us talking to and interacting
with software, from simple kiosks to automated tech support, the gap between
labor and purpose-built software has enabled AI to move out of the theoretical
spaces into real jobs with more success than ever. Many of these projects
leverage OpenAI, specifically ones that have to interpret text input like tech
support chat bots that can automate ticket creation and some troubleshooting
tasks. Other chat bots do just that, chat, like the for-profit AI friend mobile
apps like Replika. Although the concept isn’t much newer than previous
iterations like the ill-fated “Tay” bot by Microsoft and the prior scripts that
inspired it, the software has evolved to stay on topic and sound more authentic
to avoid frustration from the user who may not want to “talk to a computer”.

Other proprietary learning AI like Google’s LaMDA are sophisticated enough to
spark new debate on what constitutes a sentient AI. However, I don’t think
sentience should be the end-all goal of AI research, and not just because of the
Hollywood factor. Purpose-built AI like service desk chat bots can focus
development resources on a specific set of tasks and can integrate ticket data
and customer responses into cycles that improve the chat bot over time. In other
fields like medical and other forms of patient care could benefit from improved
AI applications, especially in parts of the world where loneliness is a growing
concern.

Real world research may have inspired the troubled Hollywood interpretations
like “Her”, where a man falls in love with his phone’s voice assist application,
the dystopian holographic girlfriend in “Blade Runner 2049”, and the hyper
realistic cyborgs of “Ex Machina”. Each illustrate important topics in their own
way, but do not handle well the stigma attached to developing relationships
between humans and machines. Of course, a lot of this comes from an attempt to
replicate human intimacy, which is worth examining, but it also perpetuates
negative stereotypes in a way that deflects attention from potentially valuable
applications of AI, like augmenting staff in rehabilitation facilities and those
that care for the elderly, which in some parts of the world face dire shortages
of nurses and other skilled staff. Coupled with the pandemic’s restrictions on
close contact with other people, the opportunity for robot help has never been
greater. But “cyborgs” and virtual companions are hardly the limits of good AI
development. I think common use applications are just as important.

I would argue that the learning algorithm at Spotify qualifies as AI, and not
just because the music recommendations based on my listening “feel” personal,
but precisely because that itself is a valuable service. It learns entirely
based on the collective listening habits of its users. This does illustrate a
boundary between fair data use and also data that users may not want to be used
inappropriately. All user data ultimately is private data, especially when it
includes anything about their daily habits and often times, their location. With
AI this is as important as ever. With that comes a rant.

Amid calls from lawmakers to create “encryption backdoors” to “combat terrorism”
and “protect law-abiding citizens”, academics and individuals need to push back
and demand more laws to protect user privacy, not less. Every company is
responsible for the security of its user data, and every week there is a new
story about security breaches that expose user data and AI is no exception.

As a sidebar here, any call to weaken privacy and encryption to “protect
law-abiding citizens” should be heeded with suspicion as this almost always
excludes journalists, activists, political rivals, and most recently – women
seeking essential health care services like cancer screenings. Demand better
from your representatives.

AI developers must put user privacy and security at the forefront of their
product designs. The power of machine learning depends on the trust of its users
that their data will not be misused and will be protected.

Finally, for those who went into the field dreaming of the future only to find
their work tilted by racial bias in the data or leveraged to create weapons
systems, I am sorry for you.




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Author dobfankrisPosted on December 19, 2022Categories technologyTags ai, lamda,
openai, privacy, replika, spotify1 Comment on Thoughts on the state of AI
in 2022


THE GHOST FREIGHTER OF UJC SCIENCE PLATFORM JE L4

THIS IS A SPECULATIVE MICRO FAN FICTION SET IN THE UNIVERSE OF CALLISTO PROTOCOL
INSPIRED BY THE GAME TRAILERS AND THE AUDIO PODCAST HELIX STATION.

Following exodus of the crew of UJC Science Platform JE L4 during intense
radiation storms and a disastrous fire that broke out during the last hours of
the evacuation, the orbital station was reported as a total loss of capital to
UJC. Some of the station’s automated systems continued to run for weeks
following, including an ice tanker on a least fuel transit loop between the
station and Europa, where all the colonies relied on for water. It too
eventually ceased to fly, presumably due to simple malfunction. However, the ice
tanker resumed routine flights from the dead station a half year later prompting
an investigation by Black Iron Security.

UJC lost contact with the security detail shortly after they arrived on station.



A shuddering creak of stressed steel jolted Rebecca from a restless sleep where
she lay hidden. The once-soothing rhythmic hum and tick of the freighter’s alarm
now seemed unbearably loud in her ears as she strained to listen for another
sound she thought she had heard. Her nervous suspicion grew into dread as she
heard the faint groan of the nearby capsule door followed by a shift in the
composite floor plates. This is when Rebecca started to worry she was not the
flight’s only stowaway.

Her, and the doctor lying in the stasis pod, she thought to herself. The only
survivors left of the catastrophe at the science platform orbiting near the
Jovian moon Europa. “Some six-week program,” she thought to herself for the
hundredth time since she was originally scheduled to return home to her sister
and parents on the Ganymede colony. More than half a year had passed as the
handful of students, scientists and engineers had taken refuge in the station’s
morgue to escape the fire. Conserving the oxygen tanks and suit propulsion the
station’s chief engineer, Svend, was able to save, they had managed to salvage
enough nonperishable food and medical supplies to turn the morgue into an
ironically life-saving bunker for those who escaped. At the time, it was less
than ten. Today the station’s principal botanist Dr. Albright lay clinging to
life in a medical stasis pod in a last-ditch effort to save his life. Everyone
else including Svend, who had been like a surrogate father to Rebecca had since
died to the same infection they believed to have wiped out the crops on the
science platform, or to other causes.

Before the unusual radiation storms they believed had sparked the widespread
blight, the crops of UJC Science Platform JE L4 were the ticket to her thesis
program, one of the last steps in her final year of schooling. Decades of
research adapting Earth-borne plant species to the light and radiation
conditions of zero-contact enclosed micro habitats on the Jovian moons and
orbital stations had yielded breakthroughs that could enable them to grow foods
previously inaccessible to the colonies. Rebecca’s work under Dr. Albright was
much more conventional, long hours at a computer terminal crunching data with a
hearty side of manual labor. Still, she had loved it. The class size was small
and it would open the door for a prestigious fellowship upon completion of
Ganymede Bio Habitat 3. Research now that had turned from hopeful to a grim
warning now contained to a single bulky drive stored in her suit’s tool belt.

Short range communications were lost in the Jovian radiation, and the station’s
long-range transmitter was irreparable after the fire. Svend had theorized the
freighter’s transmitter may save them if they could broadcast at the apogee of
the ship’s gravity-assisted orbit before it arrived at Europa. Assuming that
anyone was listening, and that those that heard it were friendly. Unlike Black
Iron Security.

The security forces of the Callisto moon served as law enforcement in the Jovian
system, far removed from the eyes and legal systems of Earth. They shared a name
with the system’s lone prison, Black Iron. They were widely distrusted by the
colonists as operating above the law, which only added to the survivors’
apprehensions when they showed up at the burnt hull of the science platform.
Still, Rebecca had held onto the hope that they would be saved by the security
forces until it was evident that rescue was not why they had come.

On that fateful morning when the security detail began searching for their
makeshift bunker, Dr. Albright had been placed in a medically induced coma to
slow the progression of his illness which wracked him with a terrible cough.
Rebecca could not shake the feeling that Svend and the doctor shared a secret
knowledge that had doomed them, something too terrible for her to know, and was
reaffirmed by how quickly Svend had deduced that the flamethrowers that Black
Iron Security had brought were for them.

This long shot plan was of Svend’s design; the improvised radiation shielding,
the manipulation of the freighter’s perpetual alarm to mask the presence of
functional life support and live passengers, the precise amount of oxygen they
would need and the suits to survive the crucial final step when it arrived at
the Europan ice quarry it was destined for, as the freighter would open to near
vacuum when it attempted to receive a new load of water ice. This was her only
opportunity for escape before it would leave as there was no way to override
without authorized UJC biometric commands. Svend had intended to be here himself
until that day. Instead, when they began burning the survivors, he bought time
for Rebecca to escape with the motorized stasis pod containing the doctor and
her supplies before sealing himself in with the Black Iron squad. The ensuing
explosion told Rebecca all she needed to know of their fate, but not before
Svend managed one last radio communication. “They must know what happened here.
You need to be brave, brave for your sister.”

Rebecca had allowed herself to be lulled into a tearful sleep in her hiding
place in the narrow hollow portion of hull shielding until the unexpected sound
startled her. She had to control her breathing as once the oxygen in the
pressurized portion of the ship dropped too low, she would have only the reserve
intended for her suit left which she knew she couldn’t use now. Except for a
narrow gap where the shielding and hull segment let air in, she could not see
out from her hiding spot, and the only light source was the dim red emergency
light, which rotated in a slow pulse. The stasis pod lay just out of her sight
secured in the medical isolation partition.

Suddenly a shadow passed in front of the light source, something very near where
she hid. She could hear a wheezing sound, someone or something opposite the thin
wall panel from her in the medical capsule. Rebecca held her breath, eyes wide
in fear as she listened to it lurch slowly through the room. It had to be right
next to the stasis pod. It let out a distressed whine, like frustration and
sorrow. The breathing sounded wet, sticky. After what felt like an eternity, she
heard the footsteps pass back through the capsule hatch and out of the room.
Once she could hear what she believed to be movement again in the main hold, she
dared peek out. The stasis pod was open; empty.

“Dr. Albright?” Rebecca whispered fearfully, the hollow rattle of the
freighter’s hull the only response. The stasis pod bed and opening were coated
in a thick mucus-like substance that had a repulsive copper smell even through
the filtration of her suit’s respirator. It was intermingled with what looked
like blood on the inside of the pod’s glass panel. A similar liquid pooled at
the base of the pod where something had recently tracked through towards the
capsule door.

The hull shook again, this time for longer and she felt the floor shift under
her. She braced against the paneling as she heard the poorly secured contents of
the freight hold shift loudly. She looked to the readout the digital assistant
on her wrist; they could be approaching apogee. She needed to make her way to
the ship’s control station and see if she could get a transmission out. With
luck the radio was not locked down like the flight and other ship controls were.
There was just the matter of the missing doctor.

She switched on the small light on her suit’s helmet, good for illuminating a
few feet in front of her but not much further. Beyond that was only faint red
light from emergency bulbs, each slowly rotating. The unfamiliar ship was
nothing like the open design of the science platform, here the corridors were
not much wider than shoulder width with deep shadowy recesses the light did not
reach. The medical capsule attached to the main freight hold after an exchange
module that was about ten meters long.

She passed slowly through the open hatch, minding the slimy residue. In her suit
her breathing sounded loud to her, even as she fought to remain quiet and calm.
She cautiously moved the light to each side of the exchange, checking the
overhead rows of cabling and conduit for any signs of damage. Aside from a
slight vapor leak there was nothing for her to worry about. The heavy door
opposite her was already open, where she spotted another glossy handprint.

“Dr. Albright?” she called again, daring to raise her voice just slightly.
Again, only the grumble of stressed steel bulwark replied. She inched forward
until she could start to see the inside of the freight hold, a massive chamber
that made up the majority of the ship. Her path would take her up a ladder at
the far end of the room into the overhead loft where the ship’s lone exterior
window was along with operator controls.

Inside the hold were just a few pallets of supplies that had been largely picked
through and were no longer flight secured. They rest at oblong angles free of
the tiedown restrains. The center of the room, which would normally be loaded
edge to edge with blocks of ice, was empty except for packaging trash left when
the ship was first looted. She peered as far as her light allowed but saw no
sight of the doctor.

As she crept into the room, she checked the dark corners behind her. The rattle
of the hull and hum of the alarm the only sounds below her breath. She could not
see any more signs of the mucus trail, nor anything that was out of place from
what she remembered seeing when she had boarded, although at the time at a quick
dash. She checked her composure and raised her voice further to call out. “Dr.
Albright? Hello?”

A sudden sharp gnashing sound from somewhere ahead of her called back, causing
her to flinch. It sounded inhuman, what she imagined an animal might sound like.
Following the almost bark like sound, she heard a strangled noise like
constricted breathing and that same sticky wet wheeze. Her heart leapt into her
throat as she struggled to control her breathing, searching with her light for
the source of the noise. She looked around, fear creeping up her spine as she
checked to look a second time behind herself. A loud strike of metal against
metal ahead of her in the room caused her to let out a small cry.

She focused the narrow beam of light intently where she had heard the sudden
loud noise. An overhead storage unit had fallen open, now swinging on creaky
hinges. She remained still, fighting back a tremor as she peered into each dark
corner and long shadow to find no sign of the unseen presence. She braced
herself at the first of the cargo pallets as a strong vibration shook the ship.
The cacophony of the loose compartments of the mostly empty hold formed a pit in
her stomach. She strained to hear what seemed to be in the room with her, but
after a moment still had heard nothing.

She redoubled her nerves, making her way through the midpoint of the room past
the next two cargo pallets before the hull began to shake again, each time
feeling a little more severe. She tried to remember what Svend had told her
about the automated flight maneuvers but had focused so much on what would
happen during landing that she had glossed over the mid orbit flight
corrections. She was feeling less and less sure she knew how far along in the
journey she had slept. Either way, she needed to try and send a radio
transmission in hopes that someone on the Europa colony was listening. She
forced herself to keep moving until she reached the ladder.

Her boot steps on the ladder sounded louder than she expected, seeming louder
than anything else she could hear. The narrow ladder safety cage going up to the
hold to the operator controls prevented her from turning her head to look behind
her, causing her to feel panic coming on at the sound of something moving in the
hold where she had just stood. Breathless, she rolled off the ladder onto the
operator control catwalk and looked back down the way she had climbed. A
tie-down was swinging freely as if recently disturbed, but she could see
precious little with her headlamp from this vantage. She sat back and leaned
against the controls. She could feel the click of the perpetual alarm originated
from it. Standing up, she assessed the panel and the small port hole window into
space.

Europa looked large already on their approach, but she reminded herself how far
away she likely still was. Behind the pale blue moon loomed the night side of
the king of the gas giants, Jupiter. It’s night sky rippled with aurora and the
occasional flicker of lightning. The view gave her pause, stealing her breath
until she had calmed, ignoring tears of stress as she took in the small dose of
celestial beauty.

She pried her attention away from the window back to the control panel. All of
the operator buttons were dimmed next to a large handprint scanner, keycard and
pin panel. Svend had warned the controls would be inaccessible without biometric
access, but she had held onto the hope that a common freighter would have some
sort of manual override. The controls were complex to her untrained eyes,
finding rows of oversized buttons both on the panel and overhead. The wall
readouts had all manner of flight controls and positional readouts in simple
monochrome display. She found additional controls for some of the interior,
including an overhead crane and three heavy lift robotic arms, the latter of
which looked like similar analog controls to an arm they used to move micro
habitats back on the science platform. Wagering a guess, she flipped the safety
cover over the yellow operators switch and flipped it on. The light illuminated.
She nudged one of the controls and could hear the gas compressing in the
articulated arm below in the hold. She smiled nervously, not all the controls
were restricted after all.

She turned back to the main panel and moved to the radio which was positioned in
the corner of the operator space that was big enough for just one. A single band
selection dial pointed to a lone mark made by a previous operator. She turned
it, half expecting she might hear feedback from the tiny radio speaker but
nothing happened. When she pressed the call button there was no indication it
was working. She wondered what she was supposed to say.

“Can anyone hear me?” she began. She brushed a layer of mechanical grime off the
call box where it showed the ship’s identification. “This is UJC FR209 Echo”.
She felt like she was holding her breath waiting for something to happen. She
pressed the call button a few times and began turning the band selection. There
was no way to know if it was even working. She repeated herself again on an
arbitrary band. “Someone, anyone.”

“Rebecca” a pained, hoarse whisper came from below. She recognized the voice as
Dr. Albright, but something was terribly wrong. Her heart pounding, she overrode
her fear of whatever she had heard making noise below to descend and
investigate. When she arrived at the bottom of the ladder in the hold, she could
hear the strain of a pipe valve turning followed by a loud blast of venting gas.
She looked towards the billowing mist, seeing the doctor standing in a corner
just beyond it at the valve. He was facing away from her, and she noticed he was
shirtless. Her headlamp illuminated his back and skin where she could see his
sores were swollen to the point they had ruptured his skin. He seemed to be
shaking as he breathed and was covered in a glistening sweat. “Rebecca?” he
repeated.

He turned; his face disfigured beyond recognition from an injury that should
have surely killed him. His jaw was split wide and hung open like a pair of
grotesque fleshy flower petals. His tongue waggled lifeless from his enlarged
throat, from within emerged two snakelike tentacles. Rebecca screamed in terror.

The beast that was once Dr. Albright roared in fury and began a lurching charge
towards her, still limping. Rebecca flailed as she continued to scream for
anything to grab onto, finding an empty insulated crate that once held medical
vials. She threw it at him, which barely slowed his advance. She spun around and
scrambled for a handhold until she pulled herself back to standing and began to
run. Her suit suddenly felt too tight around her chest, and her breathing echoed
in her helmet. There was spittle on her visor, obscuring her view. She collided
with one of the standing pallets of empty supply crates, falling back down. Dr.
Albright swung wildly, striking the pallet near where she had stood, sending
crates flying.

Rebecca thought in an instant to turn off her headlamp, which surely would
prevent her from any attempt to escape and hide. She stood up again and ran
towards the next pair of pallets as the ship’s hull began to shake and vibrate
again, slowing her as she lost her footing and fell to a knee. An upward lift in
the flooring suggested the ship was making another flight maneuver. The overhead
storage compartments rattled deafeningly. Relying on only what the pulsing red
alarm lights illuminated, she pulled herself to standing again and ran past the
shape of the furthest stack of crates into a narrow maintenance access.

She dared a glance behind her but was unable to see the doctor who had been
almost on top of her before the last set of pallets. She looked at where she had
found herself. Nearby was a dangerous sounding voltage panel which connected to
one of several conduits and pressurized pipes in the maintenance shaft. It was
not tall enough for her to stand in, so she could only move at a low crouch. At
first it looked like a dead end until she noticed that one of the flashing
lights seemed to come from a source above the end of the passage. When she made
her way to it, she found another service ladder to the upper deck, which from
her memory would be near the overhead crane in the hold.

Finding nothing else that could help her in the maintenance shaft she ascended,
finding herself in an even shorter ventilation access. The row of red alarm
lights ran the length of the vehicle along this point in the ship, making the
view forward a dizzying display of spinning lights and rotating fans. She
crawled along, listening for noise below that could be the doctor but hearing
only groans of the ships hull. She made it to a spot above a catwalk in the hold
near the overhead crane. She could see through the slots in the vent cover that
there was an auxiliary control panel for the crane on the catwalk. As she
fumbled around for a way to open the vent, she heard a new sound. The radio.

The voice cracking through the static was an older gentleman’s, Rebecca thought
his accent sounded Russian. The words sounded kind and conveyed a sense of
concern. She had not heard the first of the message but listened with interest
to the rest.

“…come in FR209. Do you copy?” the first reply ended. “Repeat, UJC FR209 Echo
this is New Commonwealth Icebreaker 3.” It was a ship operating for the Europa
free colony.

Rebecca’s eyes swelled with tears in relief, a tiny cry escaping her lips that
was quickly cut short when the ship began shaking again, but now with
substantially more bounce. The ship was beginning to enter the thin atmosphere
but was not designed with passenger comfort in mind.

Without warning, the vent panel she was struggling with swung open, and Rebecca
tumbled out crashing into the catwalk railing with a painful gasp. She struck
and then fell over the rail, getting caught in her fall when her tool belt
hooked onto the overhead crane control box. The tubes connecting the large
box-lid shaped crane hissed to life and began moving in a lateral direction away
from where she hung. She thrashed at the belt as it had slid up to her chest and
below her helmet before binding up. Below she heard a long, sickening draw of
breath followed by the uneven stomp of the creature as it moved closer to where
she was swinging.

“No, no, no,” she panicked as the belt slipped further and the shift moved the
analog control stick, sending the crane back her direction. She swung around to
see it would strike her if she did not move, so without any time to think she
unhooked her belt and fell the rest of the way to the floor. Her belt and its
contents landed a few feet away.

She quickly rolled to her back, facing the doctor who was limping forward with
his mangled arms outstretched, mouth tentacles flailing. She scrambled backwards
on her hands and heels as he lunged for her. She rolled out of the way but not
before another stack of crates came tumbling down on her. A strong jolt to the
ship tipped the stack of crates further, and a new alarm started blaring. It was
more rapid than the perpetual alarm, urgent. Something in flight control had
detected a failure.

She looked to her tool belt which was out of reach and too near the doctor, and
then to the ladder far to one side. She made a daring leap and dashed for the
ladder while the doctor lumbered to face where she had ran. He crashed into the
bottom of the ladder in pursuit, nearly making her lose her grip as she climbed.
When she rolled out onto the catwalk on the top she could see through the port
hole the horizon of Europa was turning under her; the ship was entering on a
spin. Below, the doctor was fumbling trying to make use of the ladder to pursue
her. She drew in a breath and stifled a shriek, moving to the crane controls.

Thinking quickly, she toggled the analog stick until the crane detached itself
from the opposite catwalk where it had struck earlier and steered to block the
doctor’s path up the ladder. With a grimace of determination, she lowered the
crane with intent to crush the monster, only to find it stopped short of pinning
him with a loud click of a safety system. The clear light flickered at her in
protest. She sobbed, her strength leaving her at the cruel irony.

The shaking of the ship grew into a tremendous force, and coupled with the sharp
increase in relative gravity and the ships spin everything in the hold began to
shift until the large chamber was in full tumble, pallets crashing to the walls
until the ship was flying completely upside down. The crane swung free of its
conventional restraints and struck the overhead storage violently, sending large
portions of steel flying everywhere. Rebecca sailed through the chaos before
striking her head on a pallet.

Just as suddenly as they had spun out of control, the floor rushed up to meet
them with force. Rebecca could feel the landing boosters had engaged, correcting
the descent of the ship and greeting them with the G force of entry. Already
struggling to stay conscious, she felt her grip slipping as she struggled to see
where the doctor was. When her head stopped spinning, she could hear the radio
again.

“FR209 Echo I have visual. Please copy.” The gentleman sent.

She leapt to her feet and ran through the debris back to the ladder, the doctor
nowhere in sight. She climbed with renewed strength and stepped out on the
catwalk to the radio. “Icebreaker 3 thank God,” her voice cracked. “I am so
happy to hear a friendly voice.”

Before she could press the call button again, a single drip of mucus fell onto
the control panel. Rebecca froze. A second drip struck her visor, and she leapt
back, wailing in horror. The creature that was once the doctor had scaled the
wall into an overhead corner above her, mandibles flexing menacingly at her.
When she jumped to go down the ladder, so did the creature, landing on her other
side to block her escape.

Cornered, she jumped for the robotics arm controls. The creature’s tentacles
lashed at her, grabbing at her leg with surprising strength. She wrapped an arm
around the railing, fighting back as she extended one of the robot arms out and
began maneuvering it up to her position. Without having mastered the controls,
the best she could manage was to swing it wildly at the creature, knocking it
into the wall.

The ship touched down with an ungraceful bounce, settling on uneven ground. The
ship rocked to one side, sending both the creature and Rebecca crashing into the
control panels. The main cargo door sprung open, venting the pressurized cabin
to the outside in a cold blast of air along with dozens of small crates and
other trash. Rebecca saw her toolbelt among the ejected material. The massive
door only opened as far as the safety latches would allow, which was less than a
foot high. The creature had fallen over the rail to the floor, while she had
kept hold of the rail.

She quickly moved the robotic arm again, this time pinning the creature to the
floor with the claw grasp. “Sorry, but the doctor is… detained,” she declared.
It flailed frenetically against the restraint. Rebecca then moved a second
freight arm to the cargo door so she could pry it open further.

Her suit had automatically cut over to onboard oxygen when the cabin
depressurized. Outside the cargo hold she could see the bright lights of the
Icebreaker 3 as it was approaching in the Europa surface snowstorm. She hurried
down the ladder and out of the hold, stepping down the uneven slope into snow
where the cargo and other trash lay scattered. She began searching for her tool
belt which contained the drive of data on the research from the science
platform.

Ahead up the hill she could see the lone pilot of the Icebreaker class ship had
exited, holding a bright light aloft as he made his way down to help. After a
moment of worry she found her tool belt, holding it high like a trophy as she
smiled through her pain to show it to the man who had come to her aid.

The man froze, shouting a warning but it was too late.

Tentacles wrapped around her neck and helmet, crushing the glass on her visor.
She fumbled, dropping her belt. The other grabbed her at the thigh, pulling her
screaming back into the ship.

THANK YOU FOR READING


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Author dobfankrisPosted on November 22, 2022Categories fanficTags callisto
protocol, fan fiction, fanfic, fiction, horror, science fiction, spaceLeave a
comment on The Ghost Freighter of UJC Science Platform JE L4


“BLACKWATER FALLS” – A REVIEW

Ausma Zehanat Khan’s murder mystery “Blackwater Falls” is a carefully crafted
thriller woven from elements of present-day current events. It does not shy away
from political topics, instead tackling them head on in a story that feels like
it could have been told in a town I had known.

Khan is a gifted character writer, penning a believable cast that I grew to care
about. This strength carries the dialog and introspection heavy narrative and
makes for an engaging read. Also, if you enjoy audiobooks the narrator Fareeda
Pasha does an excellent job bringing the characters to life. I felt that the
narrator delivered on the tone for the setting too, which is important to me
when I choose an audiobook.

A parting thought for readers who like me also play video games, I feel like
this setting and cast would fit well in the “Far Cry” universe and has some
interesting parallels to Far Cry 5, except if Ubisoft had chosen to reference
real political situations – and minus the gunplay, in this case, as Blackwater
Falls is a detective story first. If you are in that niche, then please consider
this book highly recommended.


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Author dobfankrisPosted on November 16, 2022Categories books, readingTags
blackwater falls, book, fan review, far cry 5, mystery, reading, reviewLeave a
comment on “Blackwater Falls” – a review


THOUGHTS ON “THEY CALLED ME A LIONESS”

I recently finished reading Ahed Tamimi and Dena Takruri’s “They Called Me a
Lioness”. I found it to be inspirational and uplifting. It concluded with some
important questions for the reader to consider, but I had thought of a few more
as I read.

Paraphrasing, the authors ask us to consider what we would do if our family were
in their circumstance, which is a potent question indeed, one I feel too many
distant observers blot from their mind; how would they handle life under
occupation?

However, as I read the tale of the now-viral confrontation between the child and
occupation soldiers on her family property I wondered how much of her story
might have been left to tell if not for the accessibility of social media and
ability of users to share this raw footage of human rights abuses. Lately,
platforms have become more difficult to access in some conflict-torn areas of
the world, and elsewhere too restrictive content policies can result in near
total media blackout of censored topics.

I am speaking specifically of a number of laws passed that attempt to equate
pro-Palestinian and pro-boycott speech as essentially hate speech or actual
antisemitism. In all more than 30 states in the US have similar laws. Imagine if
Tamimi’s video had been quashed before it reached its audience.

Consider the videos we haven’t seen, from Palestine or elsewhere in the world
where youth stand up to a brutal regime.

I really enjoyed the book, which I listened to as an audio book. If you like
audiobooks I highly recommend it. The narrative style was outstanding. It felt
less like a book being read to you and more like a friend sitting down to tell
you something important to them. By the end it was I that felt like I had been
invited into their home to listen.






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Author dobfankrisPosted on November 3, 2022Categories booksTags audiobook, book,
book review, review, they called me a lionessLeave a comment on Thoughts on
“They Called Me a Lioness”


HALO, ANTHEM AND WHY WE DON’T NEED ANOTHER DESTINY CLONE.

ALTERNATE TITLE “A LIST OF THINGS I HOPE HALO INFINITE IS NOT”

The Holiday season is looming, and the Halo Infinite launch party Xbox may once
have intended to coincide with the release of the Xbox Series X is finally
happening a year and many semiconductor and pandemic related delays later. It’s
time to thaw Master Chief after an extended break following the 2015 release of
Halo 5, in what 343 has once called a spiritual reboot for the flagship title of
the Xbox brand. No pressure.

First, a story about why Halo is a bit personal to me. Years back when we were
first living together, my wife picked up a copy of Halo: Reach for her Xbox 360
“to see if it was any good”. Neither of us had played a Halo before it, and I
was into mostly fantasy RPG games. A weekend later, we had a second Xbox and
another copy of Halo: Reach so we could play together. Soon we’d rearrange the
living room to accommodate side by side TVs and forever changed what family
night in looked like at our house.

Fast forward to present and on any given game night we may be on different
games, single player games, watching a show or playing games with different sets
of friends but we still play in parallel. There are a few games we still play
together, or exclusively together, and Halo is one of them. As this next title
nears release and I see features like cooperative play de-prioritized to make an
already late release window, I can’t help but think of other titles we have been
excited to try that did not turn out as well. Anthem comes to mind.

BioWare’s ill-fated epic multiplayer space opera fell far short of its
potential. Anthem otherwise had all of the right ingredients – excellent flight
and combat mechanics, innovative design, breathtaking views and top shelf
graphics, a great team of writers and a likeable cast of characters. What went
wrong? I can name one mistake, broadly, that no publisher is too big to repeat.
Please stop trying to make another Destiny-style live service looter shooter.

Destiny itself is riddled with annoyances its player-base tolerates as they turn
in each week to participate in what is otherwise an anomaly in the space-time
fabric of gaming. Its success is despite of itself. Random loot rolls for the
same limited set of weapons and armor is not the part of the game we need to
copy. Another game that made this mistake and later course corrected was
Assassin’s Creed Odyssey; the maddening, meaningless deluge of loot to be
immediately deconstructed was addressed in Assassin’s Creed Valhalla (thank you
a thousand times).

It isn’t to say that there is no appeal at all in repeating the same content to
try and get the ideal roll for your favorite set of gear, it is just that this
cycle by itself can quickly become frustrating and lead to fast burnout. Adding
in low drop rates or actual technical issues can turn the experience very
negative fast for some players who feel like they put in the work but did not
get the reward or expected progression credit. Sooner than the designer would
hope, the game will get turned off. This is not hyperbole, but rather a
recurring observation from my own home.

I liked Anthem. The storytelling and world-building reached straight into the
depths of my imagination and did not let go. I trusted the talent behind two of
my other favorite games of all time to be able to deliver something fresh and
innovative. I even wrote a bit of fan fiction ahead of the release about one
mysterious type of enemy character – ones that appeared to be a model of rogue
hardware not unlike the heroes own. I feel like BioWare delivered on this much –
the flight combat was as good as we hoped. They were just asked to fit it into a
persistent world model it did not seem to be built to support. Fort Tarsis did
not need to be Destiny’s Last City for us to love it. I could write for another
hour what else they could have done differently but I am sure the team who
worked on it knows better than anyone else what they wanted to accomplish.

Halo for me wasn’t ever what Destiny turned out to be, nor was it Call of Duty
or Battlefield. Or Fortnite or Apex or Titanfall. Where I started with Reach,
Halo was always about the fire team. Being an individual in a group working
together to accomplish something heroic. I know for a lot of players Halo was
first about playing as Spartan 117.

Master Chief. Blasting alien bad guys with a likable woman AI sidekick and
delivering great one-liners in that iconic lead guy voice, this time in a giant
open world environment. A face on the front of soda cans and bags of chips and
boxes of cereal, a brand almost as recognizable as Star Wars. I have
reservations and doubts about the character of Master Chief, who for some people
is their Luke Skywalker in this story, but other people may wish to see more of
themselves represented on screen. I get this is their “spiritual reboot”, but I
hope 343 builds on the amazing cast they had assembled for the previous stories
and continues to push the idea of Halo as a larger world than just John and
Cortana.

I digress. To be fair, I don’t know exactly what an average week will look like
in the life of a Halo Infinite player. The Destiny comparisons above might be
totally inaccurate. If the Master Chief Collection or Halo 5 were a good
indicator, it was a mix of incentives from both replaying story missions and
playing various cooperative and competitive multiplayer modes. On paper, this is
pretty much any successful game with live seasons today, but I don’t think any
publisher is too big to get this wrong.

The genre today is flush with worlds that built on the success of early titles
that include Halo, and a publisher may be motivated to make “the next Apex” or
successor to the other title I’ve referenced already. No Brand Too Large to fall
over itself to copy a new formula, like Battlefield launching the equivalent of
straight to VHS (yes I’m old) title, skipping story mode completely in favor of
a large format team battle that looks nothing like the ones it pioneered because
that apparently worked OK for another recent title. Banking on microtransactions
when they have been broadly frowned on as bordering on predatory. Halo is not
and never was any of those things. This doesn’t have to be billed as “a return
to form” if they just.. not try to be something else.

Halo Infinite may have launched without co-op story mode for valid reasons, one
envelope pushed at the expense of another. I just hope the teams working on it
were allowed to deliver the Halo they dreamed of working on.

My wife and I will see you on Zeta, in one game mode or another.


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Author dobfankrisPosted on November 3, 2021November 3, 2021Categories gaming,
online gamingTags 343, anthem, battlefield2042, BioWare, bungie, Cortana,
destiny, destiny2, Halo Infinite, Halo Reach, Master Chief, ubisoft, xboxLeave a
comment on Halo, Anthem and why we don’t need another Destiny clone.


HALF OF MY HEART IS IN HAVANA – FAR CRY 6

image credit Ubisoft Far Cry 6 fan kit

Set in the fictional Caribbean island of Yara, Ubisoft’s Far Cry 6 is a showcase
of adrenaline and breathtaking locale. The series known for its over the top
action and darker themes borrows at times from real life events, and like the
Camila Cabello song you might hear on a radio in the game referenced in the
title of this review, is very much based on a real place.

The richly detailed environments push the limits of even the highest end gaming
hardware today, setting a high bar few other games released this year could
approach. It flexes first its credentials as an action title, and then sets out
to establish a story the player cares about. Or stories, plural, as it plays
more like a good show on Netflix. Here in the finer details is where everything
could have gone wrong, but turned out to be the best risk they had taken yet.



The return of voiced protagonist to Far Cry is Dani Rojas, a reluctant heroine
who at the onset of the game dreams of a better life away from her homeland in
Miami. Unlike the previous protagonists in Far Cry games, Dani gets a full part
on camera during dialog and in cut scenes. The difference is just the first way
the team set this apart from the series before it, and it is not a small detail.
The way the character interacts or even comments out loud on the world around
her takes this further, even down to the way she occasionally hums or sings
along to the radio while in the car. It is through her eyes and experiences the
world of Yara comes to life.

Opposite Dani is the villain Antón Castillo, the Yara’s El Presidente played by
Giancarlo Esposito. For a series known best for its iconic bad guys, they did
not hold back creating a part that seemed made for the actor. The character of
Antón steals the scene – commands it – whenever he speaks. It is very effective
storytelling.



The narrative and writing teams on Far Cry 6 put their best work into the depth
of cast and individual stories told in each of the regions explored in the game.
The people Dani meet are the heart of the game, from families impacted by
Castillo’s regime to farmers and musicians and artists or resistance fighters
ranging from street gangs to veteran guerillas of generations prior wars. The
struggles like those of the Montero family or Radio Libertad are the ones that
really grabbed hold of me and did not let go. Far Cry does a good job of being
both a game for fun and not losing sight of the bigger picture, giving each
location the time and attention to detail to do it justice. I never felt in a
hurry to leave an area, and fell in love with the characters I met. The stories
felt personal. This was no accident.

Ubisoft described some of the work that went into creating the world of Yara,
and the real places they visited and people they interviewed, including family
of guerillas who lived through similar events that would serve as a backdrop for
Dani’s journey. Every writer, artist, musician and actor who worked on it spoke
seriously on the inspirations they found that went into the game. Their stories
were important to them and the evidence is in the results. The Montero family
seemed less like quest NPCs and more like people you might actually know and
care about.

By the time the credits rolled I felt like I had been a participant in something
extraordinary, and found myself thinking long after on what I had played.

If you had played the previous Far Cry games and are curious, Far Cry 6 does not
“end” after the main story and has plenty to do after. I completed the main
story in about fifty hours with time spent on most of the side stories, which I
felt was a good length for the game. Assassin’s Creed Odyssey for comparison was
around 110 hours, counting only some of the side content.

I am looking forward to the DLC content for Far Cry 6 which includes stories
from three other Far Cry games focusing on the villains Vaas, Pagan Min and The
Father.

Far Cry 6 screen shot taken on Xbox


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Author dobfankrisPosted on October 13, 2021October 13, 2021Categories gaming,
online gamingTags fan review, far cry 6, review, ubisoft, xboxLeave a comment on
Half Of My Heart Is In Havana – Far Cry 6


“SABLE” – BRILLIANCE IN SIMPLICITY

I don’t have a clear memory of how I was recommended to pick up Sable. Whichever
games writer it was, I should thank. Developed by Shedworks, Sable quietly
upended my gaming nights, challenging the notion that one had to suffer to grow
or to fully appreciate the challenge of a video game. It is a masterpiece in
simplicity, driven by a curious spirit and subtly. Sable is an exploration dream
game that I am happy exists today.

Sable tells the coming of age story of a young girl who must leave home on a
journey called The Gliding. Gifted the power of the “Perpetual”, she can hover
to glide from one high point to another. Her only other boon is her hover bike,
which she shares an almost spiritual connection with. In The Gliding she will
discover new places, help others and when she is done, choose her mask.

The symbolism here simultaneously overt and loaded with subtext to ponder.
Through the tasks she completes and places she visits, she earns and collects a
number of decorative masks that tell a story of how she earned them or an idea
they represent.

Featuring virtually no sense of conflict of any kind, danger of dying or
punishing loss of progress, Sable sets itself apart in simple expressions of
wonder. A detailed room in a ruin, or view cresting a hill and the mere
suggestion there may be something to see or find further on. The exploration and
climbing puzzles do get progressively more challenging and always assumed some
degree of thought to solve, but never felt like tests of patience or
frustrating.

The characters are well written and likable, anchoring the lighthearted tale.
The beautiful style of art has to be seen in motion to fully appreciate, and
makes powerful use of lighting and changing colors to bring the cell animated
world to life. The original music score by Japanese Breakfast may be one of my
favorite details, redefining what it might mean to actually unwind while
enjoying a game. The music is soothing, playful and perfectly matches the
setting. One could almost imagine the world built backward to accommodate the
sound.

Sable is one of the very few games I played until I had every achievement
unlocked. It was worth every moment. I still find myself thinking about the
story, the characters and which mask I ended up choosing in the end.

The game is suitable for all ages, kids young and old as they say. At time of
writing, it is available on Xbox Gamepass.


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Author dobfankrisPosted on October 1, 2021Categories gamingTags fan review,
Japanese Breakfast, not dark souls, review, sable, sable game, shedworks, xbox
gamepassLeave a comment on “Sable” – Brilliance in simplicity


POSTS NAVIGATION

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SHORT STORIES

 * The Ghost Freighter of UJC Science Platform JE L4
 * The Ruins of Listening Post Five
 * Machine Sisters
 * The Bookworm
 * Remembrance
 * The Outlaw
 * A Visit to Daggerfall
 * More Totally Unnecessary Character Backstory – Diablo IV Necromancer


BOOK REVIEWS

 * My review of “This Is How You Lose the Time War”
 * My review of “Sword Stone Table: Old Legends, New Voices”
 * Thoughts on “They Called Me a Lioness”
 * “Blackwater Falls” – a review


ARTWORK

 * Nasira the Hidden
 * A Bit of Fan Art
 * random sketches


RECIPES

 * All Day Spiced Apple Cider


GAMING

 * Diablo IV Beta Impressions
 * Half Of My Heart Is In Havana – Far Cry 6
 * “Sable” – Brilliance in simplicity
 * Halo, Anthem and why we don’t need another Destiny clone.
 * My review of “Lost in Random”
 * Three things I hope to see in Watch Dogs Legion
 * Bless Unleashed – Tips for dealing with the mid-level advancement wall
 * Eight Things Fallout 76 Gets Right
 * Seven Tips for Mass Effect Andromeda Insanity Mode
 * OXENFREE – Delightfully Scary, Clever and Unforgettable
 * Evolve: Seven Monster Tips for Defend
 * Five of my favorite video game heroines
 * Evolve and the Art of the Close Match


BLOG ENTRIES

 * Thoughts on the state of AI in 2022
 * Beach Brain Strikes Back
 * Ten Years?
 * About

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