Glory be to Glomdoring

I’m back.

Sort of. I’m not any Viravain’s you’ve ever known.

When you take on a role larger than yourself, one where multiple very talented players have added the cumulative weight of experience and history over the course of Lusternia’s operating history, it’s hard to fill their shoes. So the best way to do that, to step into a role, is to not so closely imitate what they did, but to imitate what inspires you about that role.

What I find fascinating about Viravain is the weight of the history and the conflict of Viravain meeting and becoming something larger than what She was when she was the Summer Song. The character has gone through an evolution: from an innocent, to a madwoman, to a terrifying ghost signifying dischord in the players, long problems inside of the Glomdoring, and a darkly powerful, if inconsistent and clearly confused child barely aware of Her own power.

There’s something else that inspires me. As a player, I had a lot of respect for the Glomdoring, enough that I played in it with multiple characters more than once. I’ve continually been impressed by the caliber of their organization: the players who tend to drive the roleplay in the forest, the coordination of their combat abilities, and their willingness to put pragmatism first. And they do it in style, while smirking around their silken sleeves in the middle of a swampy, terrifying forest choked in black roses.

So, that’s interesting too – how the Glomdoring went from the worst place to play in the Basin, to the best. How characters from the Glomdoring, even after playing in that particular Glomdoring, tend to do well elsewhere. The problems of perfectionism, and what you do after it turns out that promise wasn’t so solid after all.

Thanks for having me, guys. I’ll try not to stretch the shoes too much.