As I don't believe it adds productively to the conversation, but is still something I need to express, I'm posting the following here in isolation. I seek no answers, plainly see the writing on the wall, understand that change is inevitable and am glad that Chaosium will survive. That doesn't mean, however, I don't have strong feelings. I am a child of the great divorce when RQ (BRP) and Glorantha separated and went their own ways 30 years ago. I have never been a Glorantha fan, and though an
It’s been a few months now since the “Old One’s Returned…” in early June and the only official mention of BRP or MW since has been in Ben Monroe’s tagline: “Chief Operations Officer, Magic World/BRP Guru, Earth Ro-Man”—I wonder if he’s even “Chief Operations Officer” now that the company is a web address? We forumites haven’t heard from him in sometime. Since June, I’ve been hoping for some official shout out, even a small one, from Chaosium: “We’re keeping BRP, but (understandably) it is the lo
Gods!
Suwolfe unconsciously tightened his grip on ship’s rail. The roleplaying seas change yet again. He shook his head in wonder gazing sightlessly out at a horizon he could not see but where he knew sea and sky met.
“Around and around and around we go; where it stops, nobody knows,” he chanted under his breath to the rhythm of the bireme’s oars.
“Orders, lord?” his first mate asked softly. He acknowledged the man with a slight turn of the head but said nothing. The crew
My mind runs the dry ocher covered sea bottoms of Barsoom as I continue to read and reread Burroughs’ work collecting materials for a BRP-MW based sword-and-planet game I hope to GM someday. I say ‘hope’ and ‘someday’ because the members of my game crew can be rather fickle. Once it’s served up to them, my efforts are just as likely to result in, “meh” as they are to illicit, “cool”. Seriously, the whole endeavor could turn out to be nothing more than a mental exercise. I wonder at times why I c
Gods!
Suwolfe unconsciously tightened his grip on ship’s rail. The roleplaying seas change yet again. He shook his head in wonder gazing sightlessly out at a horizon he could not see but where he knew sea and sky met.
“Around and around and around we go; where it stops, nobody knows,” he chanted under his breath to the rhythm of the bireme’s oars.
“Orders, lord?” his first mate asked softly. He acknowledged the man with a slight turn of the head but said nothing. The crew
