I am currently playing through the Baldur’s Gate Enhanced Edition series, which revisits and updates the classic video game franchise that began in 1998. It took about a year for the developers to work out all the really bad bugs, but the first game runs very smoothly now and I highly recommend it. But that’s not really why I’m writing this.
The reason why I’m writing this is because I’ve been looking for a follow-up of sorts to my analysis of the Avatar Trilogy, which I dubbed the worst adventure ever. I was originally going to tackle the FATAL role-playing game, but I feel like my sanity might be permanently broken by reading that. Instead, since I’m currently loving the chance to revisit the Baldur’s Gate series, I’m going with what might be the worst group of D&D novels of all time: the Baldur’s Gate adaptations.
The blades came together so hard they threw out a blue-white spark bright enough to burn its gentle arc into Abdel’s vision. The impact sent a shudder through the heavy blade of his broadsword, but he ignored it and pushed back in the direction of the attack. Abdel was strong enough and tall enough to seriously unbalance his opponent. The man stumbled backward two steps and brought his empty left hand up to keep from falling. Abdel saw the opening and took full advantage of it, flashing his sword across his opponent’s open midsection and slicing deeply through chain mail, flesh, and bone.
You know, that’s not too bad an opening. It’s not great, but it’s about standard for a D&D novel.
Unfortunately, two paragraphs later, we start to get a taste of the average quality of prose we’re in for:
I’ve been absent for a while and will continue to remain inconsistent with my posting for the next week or two because I happen to have picked up a new baby daughter on Halloween. According to my mom, that means she’s likely to be psychic, so I may or may not have helped to spawn a female Professor X (hopefully with functioning legs).
As I start to get a handle on the whole insomniac parenting thing once again, I’ll drift back to the Screamsheet as I always do. Keep checking here from time to time. For now, though, I’m on a bit of a break.
I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo this year on account of having a new daughter (Halloween babies for the win!). I am, however, still participating in Movember, in which I try to raise funds for men’s cancer research and awareness.
I’m doing the same deal as last year: go to my Mospace, kick in any amount of money to help support this important cause, and then email me your preference for what you want me to look like at the end of the month. One dollar buys one vote. I’m clean-shaven right now and will continue to grow a beard until the end of the month. Then I’ll shave down to the winning vote, take some pictures, and post it online.
So again, to clarify the steps:
Do you want me to sport a porn stash? Some weird Kaiser Wilhem look? Shave lightning bolts into my beard? I’ll do anything that doesn’t involve vulgarity or a Hitler mustache.
Last year the winning vote was a handlebar. The results were so good that I sported that look for an entire year:
I’m kinda ticked at having shaved that off, so please donate at least a dollar so I can soothe my rage with the knowledge that I’m doing this for a good cause.
I have conflicting feelings about the 1989 Phantom of the Opera movie. On the one hand, if you divorce the movie from its source material, it’s not a terrible film. On the other hand, I really don’t think the Phantom should ever, ever be a slasher film.