#based off of the guy who i took blacksmithing class with

[desatu]

late night doodle of modern blacksmith hiccup

[dragonmuse]

A Guide to the OCs of Leda Verse (mostly for my own amusement because I was trained to make reference tools) presented in order of appearance (with ratings because why not)

Blue Toby- The guy Eddy took out with a crowbar and still limps to this day. Gets a few mentions throughout. (1/10, never appears on screen, but is probably a dick).

The Terrible Roommate- Lucius' unnamed roommate and ex, who became the not fun kind of drug dealer. (1/10, very awful and did not earn a name. But did help Lucius and Pete move in together.)

The Barista, Who Knows What He Did - Jim's unseen nemesis. (10/10, I love this joke unreasonably and no, we will never know what he did. HE KNOWS.)

Craft Lady at the Folk Festival- Trying to flirt unsuccessfully with Oluwande while Jim gets a drink. (2/10, based on an actual encounter at a festival, very annoying, but points for helping along the conversation. No name earned.)

Dolly Boodhari- Oluwande's mom, collector of many things, and all around sweetheart. (9/10, would be a 10, but sometimes her existence makes Jim a little sad which is not her fault and yet...)

Ada Boodhari- Oluwande's oldest sister who works in finance, has a crappy boss, now has Sweeney's sister as a pet, and collects bee themed items. (10/10, get a sister-in-law who will paint a room with you)

Zuri Boodhari- Oluwande's older, but not oldest sister. Married to Mark and has two kids, does medical billing. (5/10, not yet developed, but she's filling out the space along with her family, thank you for your service Zuri.)

The Boy Who Tried to Make Alma Kiss a Worm - Miserable little shit that causes Eddy to instruct Alma in the fine art of punching your problems away. Returns un-credited as the asshole making fun of Ingrid. (-1/10 for obvious reasons.)

Carnival Owner- Waxed mustache, too much cologne and a racist prick. John and Pete blow up his spot by literally blowing up his caravan. (-5/10, will never earn a name, terrible person, moved the action along, but at what cost?)

Zipper- Buttons' former lover, who left him for a younger man and crops back up to be a dick on their road trip. Smells like stale cigarettes. (1/10, good pun name, awful person. Good day, sir...I said good day! )

Sympathtic Woman with Cat Ears and Tight Corset at the Ren Faire- Listen, she appeared for one line, does not speak, but she gives Izzy an understanding look over his jealousy issue and I bet she's got a great backstory. In fact, I'm going to give her a name right now: Peony Lane. (4/10, too brief to go higher, but a good 'un).

The Lady Blacksmith- Sharpens Izzy's knife at the Ren Faire and has amazing biceps. Might make another brief appearance, so I will withhold naming her here, but she deserves one. (4/0, same as above.)

Jonah Hands- Izzy's older brother, deceased. Mentioned several times in passing and described as a violent charismatic guy that likes Johnny Cash. Will likely crop up again at some point. (4/10, don't want to hang, but I am curious about him.)

Faith Callahan - She's got her own story, spin off aus etc, doesn't really need her own summary here. (9/10, point deducted for being dead.)

Beth-Faith's lukewarm friend, who does attempt to get closer, but only when Faith gets into the same classes again. (3/10, make an effort, come on.)

Brittany Cartwright- Faith's former friend turned bully because she had some repressed feelings to work out. Returns as an grown up guidance counselor at Charlie and Alma's school, married to the English teacher. (7/10, gets a whole unseen redemption arc, but the unseen makes it hard to get fully on board).

Brandon- Proto-Eddy for Izzy, does not do the job very well and is forgotten about as soon as Izzy leaves school. (1/10, he's a menace and does not get a redemption arc.)

Faith's Parents- Bad all around. Abusive, cold, and basically killed her. (-1/10)

Delilah 'Delly' Norris nee Hands- Izzy's younger sister, described as a gremlin until Izzy reconciles with her later. Generally irritable and exhausted because she has a toddler and the Hands genetics. (8/10, another off screen arc that probably won't get pulled into focus, but she's doing the most she can with what she was given and didn't need to kill anyone to get there, Izzy.)

Sweeney- Izzy's cat. Furry knife pile (11/10 cause kitten.)

Ingrid Watts- Alma's first and best friend. Shy, bullied, but comes out of her shell to become a kickass vocalist. Loves vintage punk. (9/10, first real fully conceived OC of the series, actually. In that she has an entire personality and hangs out in and out of the story for the rest of the series.)

Owen Grant- Alma's second friend, desperately wants a band, keeps the band going and when the band finally dies, will probably start another band. Has dated Ingrid on and off for years, briefly dated Alma and Shawna too. (7/10, want to flush him out more, but his day has not yet arrived).

Felix Cardosa- Alma's first boyfriend...also Charlie's first boyfriend! Star pitcher, devoted lover, and apparently Bonnet catnip. (9/10 one point deducted for bagging siblings without remorse, c'mon man.)

Aaron Hands- Izzy's younger brother, missionary and all around misogynistic jerk. (1/10, awful.)

Thomas Norris- Delly's husband, fire fighter, appears to be a decent father and husband. (5/10, enigma, but seems fine.)

Deborah, Rachel and Leah- Izzy's squad of cousins that move as a unit. (5/10, perfectly cromulent humans)

Saul 'Da' Hands- Izzy's father. Abusive twatwaffle. (-1/10, necessary to the plot, but unnecessary to the world)

Thomas Norris- Delly's husband, fire fighter, appears to be a decent father and husband. (5/10, enigma, but seems fine.)

Dylan 'Pickle' Norris- Izzy's niece and personality is mostly 'toddler' at the moment. (8/10 cause she comes in like a wrecking ball).

Shelia Kissamee- Unseen drag queen, who tattles about the Swede's summer adventures, but it works out. (4/10, don't rat out the Swede, even if it worked out!

Rita Zebrowski- Read's unofficial foster mother, kicked Read out of the house when Read turned on the gang, but has since tried to rebuild the relationship (5/10, that's a big hurt to come back from, but Read is a very forgiving person.)

Alex 'Zee' Zeborwski- Rita's ex-husband and slightly better than the rest of Read's former gang, but still not great. (2/10)

Jacob Lewis - Real estate agent and charismatic head of Read's former gang. Sadist. (-1/10, inveigling kids in your evil scheme? You get to hang out with Hornigold in hell)

The Ballet Teacher- Brief moment, but big impact on Read's life. (5/10, really mostly just selling her class, but the outcome was good)

Amir Shariq- Charlie's best friend, room mate and once fling. A great swimmer in his own right, pre-med student, supportive and class A dude. (10/10, did not plan for him and he really grew throughout the writing in to a fun, complete person, definitely will appear around the edges of other stories)

David 'Coach' Hoffman- Has coached college swim for twenty years and knows Charlie has a lot of potential. Hates the football coach. (7/10, watching out for the guys, but kind of gruff about it. which Charlie likes for Charlie reasons.)

Chase- Swim teammate of Charlie's, freshman. Well meaning, but easily confused. (4/10, will buy anything)

Phillip Toulouse- Rival swimmer, apparently an asshole. I don't actually know anything about him, but he seems like a tool (2/10, do better, sir.)

[fairymadnessyeah]

BNHA Ship to Finish the Year

KuroMori (Komori Kinoko x Kuroiro Shihai)

Canon

Kuroiro developed a crush when he first saw Komori.

At first, he thought she was cute, but then she saw her decimate her opponents on an exercise and he was in love, No going back.

When the guys find out, they try to be his wingmen. But it's really hard.

Kuroiro is super shy, he can barely look at her in the eyes without falling apart. And Komori is the most oblivious person in the planet. One time, on their second year, somebody left her a teddy bear with a heart, and she took it to lost and found.

Kuroiro is so shy that the first times he tried to talk to her, he hid in the shadows of his clothes with his quirk.

Tetsutetsu, Kaibara and Tsuburaba are his main wingmen. They have been promised to be groomsmen at their wedding. They have a speech prepared. Whoever gets them together will be best man.

Ironically, none of them get them together. The one who is able to do so is Tokoyami.

He and Kuroiro are friends of darkness, and the bird can't see his friend suffer. He first talks with Komori, who says she never considered romance, but their conversation leaves her thinking. Then he asks the girls from his class to feign interest in Kuroiro. Not to flirt with him, but to show he is an available wanted suitor. Then he gives an inspiring speech, that only Kuroiro was able to understand, which gives the black hero courage to face the music.

It doesn't work, but in the end, Komori asks him out.

They go to see a movie and then to walk around the park. To this day, Komori thinks it was the most romantic outing she had.

They start dating after that.

Komori calls him 'Her Black Trumpet', it's a black mushroom.

To hang out on his room, she needs a forehead flashlight. The room is pitch black, and she can't see. 

I headcanon Komori to be an old-Disney fan bc of her hero costume. Like old animations in black and white with Minnie and Mickey Mouse.

That's why one Halloween they dressed as the two mouses.

Kuroiro is whipped. He knows and accepts this. If his girlfriend asked him to jump off a bridge, he would ask which one she had in mind.

In her birthday, he always surprises her with a new dress based on idol videos. She loves them. She can be seen wearing for a week after she gets it.

They stay together after graduation.

But being newly graduated heroes and dating is very hard. After a year of trying to make it work, they break up. Komori is the one who pulls the trigger, but Kuroiro agrees with her and says he saw it coming for a while.

They part in good terms. But their busy lives don't let them see each other.

They reunite when Monoma invites them to a class B reunion. He heard class A was doing one too and he can't let those pesky class A brats get away with that. Monoma, we are not even in the school anymore.

Everybody is kind of worried about their reaction, but the two don't make it awkward. And as drinks come and go, they end up making out on Kuroiro's home and falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning they talk and agree to try again, but to start slow.

Three years later, they get married. 

Family

Komori's parent are rich. I mean have you seen the dresses she wears on the Shifuku. That has to be expensive.

I feel like they would love Kuroiro. He would try to go the extra mile to impress them and how he is super attentive to their daughter.

Kuroiro's parents work in a theatre. That's were his drama came from.

He used to practice his quirk under the theatre.

Komori and Kuroiro have two kids.

The eldest one is called Kuroiro Tengu. Tengutake means Amarita, (that is a type of mushroom)

They have pitch-black straight hair, and crazy eyes like their parents, They are non-binary, pronouns they/them.

Unlike their sibling, Tengu doesn't want to be a pro-hero. They were born after the hospital raid and the golden age of villains, a lot of young people don't see the appeal of being heroes or having them.

Their quirk is called Black Bending. They can shape and form anything black, Tengu uses it to paint.

They are also stuck in their goth phase like their father.

The other kid, who is four years younger than Tengu, is called Toryu. Toryufu means truffle, another type of mushroom.

He is a copy of his mother except for the black skin.

His quirks is the same as his mother's, but he can also change the colour of the fungus he grows. 

Komori and Kuroiro are both heroes, but they both have different schedules. Kuroiro works at night and takes care of the kids during the day, and Komori works during the day and takes care of the kids at night. They spend the mornings together.

AU - Fantasy AU

Komori is a druid that lives reclused in the forest.

One day, she finds this man on her forest with obsidian skin and silver hair. He is wounded and hurt. She takes him to her shack and heals him.

When Kuro wakes up, he finds an angel taking care of him.

He is a warlock who barely got away from his abusive master. The last thing he remembers is blacking out in the forest.

The two spend a lot of time together as he heals and slowly get closer.

Komori has no problem with him staying with her for as long as he wants, but one day, another warlock, AFO, takes control of her forest and infest it with monsters.

The two ran for safety, and Kuro swears that he will help her get back her home.

They hear about this group of young warriors who are searching for a way to stop AFO and journey to meet them and join them.

Komori, who has lived almost all of her life on the forest, is very curious about this new world she finds herself in. Kuroiro shows her everything and tries to explain everything the best he can.

They do find the group they were searching for. Their leader, a man, called Midoriya, doesn't give them the best of news.

He tells them that they are trying to stop AFO, but they can't stop to help one small forest. He luckily does know some people that might.

Some friends of them had made a group of warrior who tried to weaken AFO forces that attacked the people of the kingdom. They are lead by a witch called Kendo and a dragon companion called TetsuTetsu.

The two set off again to find them and cross paths with a lot of different people, another druid with vines for hair, a centaur, a bard, a blacksmith, etc. They all have a thing in common. They are all looking for Kendo and her group.

They end up finding her and explain the situation, the group helps them.

But, when the forest is cleared, and the group of warrior has to leave, the idea of staying in the forest doesn't sound as appealing.

The forest is Komori's home. She lived here, learned here and had only recently left it for the first time. She knows her life got a lot of excitement these last couple of months, but she isn't sure if she is ready to leave everything behind.

Kuroiro has made plans to stick with the group and help the people with AFO. He makes promises to come visit whenever they are in the area.

The next morning, as they start packing to leave, Komori makes a decision. She says goodbye to her home and goes with them.

With this group, the two travel the land and go to places they've never seen before, sometimes even crossing paths with Midoriya and their group.

They also make a few enemies, especially with the mercenary group, the Vanguard Action and Detnerat.

Kuroiro and Komori don't acknowledge their feelings until the incident.

The incident happened in a remote town where magic users were going crazy. When the group arrived, it didn't take long for their magic users to start losing their minds.

The real problem was a man who was controlling them by poisoning the water. But Kuroiro was the hardest to stop. He is a warlock, and so he had been taught much older and much dangerous magic.

Komori is the one who snaps him out of the man's control. It's a very heart fell moment, and they have their first kiss.

Fanon Opinion

So, I can't think of NSFW for these too.

I don't know why. I just can't. So they are going to be the first to have the Fanon opinion.

And I know that Kuroiro appearentely likes taboo things. But I'm honestely afraid. I don't wanna google 'taboo sex stuff'. I feel like that is a hole you can't come out of.

The only thing I can think that might be okay with them is Vampire roleplay. Because that would fit. I can see it. Don't ask me who is the vampire, I haven't decided yet.

So... not many people ship them. Like compared to other ships, they have very little content. Then again, that will change when season 5 comes.

Hopefully.

The one thing I believe we can agree on is that Kuroiro is a blushing mess when he is near her.

There's also the rivalry with Tokoyami. Komori seems to be interested in Hawks, and the guy now works with him.

I have also seen a few pictures with her in gothic lolita dresses and let me tell you, girl looks good~

There is not much about them really. I wanted this day reserved for Komori because it's her birthday today.

There isn't much about them or many of the 1B class. That should change.

So, that's all I have for now!

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 54: Demigod Shit Magnet

Got a lot of stuff to talk about, no time for intro.

Class Profile - Ninja

The Nohrian thief class and base class of Saizo, Kaze, Kagero, and Asugi. Has good speed and skill and that's about it. Wields shurikens, which make them work best for inflicting debuffs. Also oddly good at mage killing. Oddly enough, the game considers them to be the Hoshido version of a Cavalier. Their first skill, Locktouch, is a utility skill that allows them to open chests and doors without a key. Their second skill, Poison Strike, deals 20% damage to enemies after battle but cannot kill, helping establish their niche of injuring enemies from a distance so stronger units can come in and finish them off. Ninjas can promote to Master Ninjas or Mechanists. I like the Ninja design a lot; the light armor fits well and the scarves, headbands, and arm knife thingies look cool.

Class Profile - Oni Savage

This game’s version of the Barbarian class and Hoshidan rival to the Fighter class. Wields axes, can promote into Oni Chieftain or Blacksmith. Weirdly, Rinkah is the only Oni Savage in the game, making the fact that it has two exclusive promotion classes weird. Oni Savages have great strength, hp, and defense, countered by atrocious luck, skill, and resistance. They can do good damage, assuming they can hit anything, or act as a wall, assuming they don’t die instantly to magic or a crit. Their first skill, Seal Resistance, lowers an enemy’s resistance after combat. I do not know why this was given to this class. Their other skill, Shove, is a utility skill that can be used to move a neighboring unit one space away. I actually like the Oni Savage design, despite it being ripe for fanservice, because the male and female designs are similar. My problem isn’t barbarians being shirtless, it’s when the game does stupid shit like have the female version of a class wear a thong while the male wears pants. The mask and beads worn by generic Oni Savages are also a nice touch.

Class Profile - Monk/Shrine Maiden

This game’s version of the Priest and Cleric classes, Hoshidan versions of the Troubadour class. Sakura and Mitama are Shine Maidens, while Azama is a Monk. Oddly enough, despite this game mostly getting rid of gender-locked classes, these two remain separate. They’re basically the same class, though. Both wield staves, have the same skills, and have good speed, luck and resistance, hampered by awful defense and HP. Oddly, Shrine Maiden has 5% better magic, while Monk instead has 10% better skill. Regardless, the job of these classes is to avoid combat and heal allies using staves. These classes can promote into Onmyojis and either Great Masters or Priestesses. Their first skill, Miracle, gives them a luck-based chance to survive a fatal blow with 1 HP. Their second skill, Rally Luck, boosts the Luck of nearby allies for a few turns. They also secretly have a 10% extra crit evade. I enjoy the simple, modest designs, which fit with the class’s aesthetic. 

Conquest Chapter 8: Cold Reception

As Felicia leads the group to her village, Moron and Silas are separated by a blizzard. Moron faints from the cold and is rescued by Kilma, the Ice Tribe’s leader. Moron begins to introduce himself, but Silas reminds him that they’re here to crush a rebellion. Corrin bemoans the fact that everything is so morally grey. Honestly, I wouldn’t call this route morally grey, so much as it’s the same black and white shit as Birthright with Moron being to stupid to understand he’s on the evil side.

Kilma says he only let Moron into the village because he carries Yato, the sword prophecized to save the world. Kilma introduces Moron to his daughter, Flora. The fact that Flora and Felicia are the daughters of the head of a small country colonized by Nohr is kinda weird. Garon conquered the Ice Tribe, took the daughters captive, and forced them to work as servants for his other kidnapped prince.

Felicia and Elise show up and Elise blurts out that they’re there to suppress Kilma’s rebellion. Elis is an idiot. Flora sounds the alarm and the Ice Tribe rushes in to fight the Nohrians. Flora calls Felicia ignorant and says war is the only language Nohr understands.

This chapter uses the same map as Chapter 17 of Birthright. The gimmick of this chapter is centered on five villages spread around the map. A pair of enemy soldiers will try to go to the villages to summon reinforcements, while the player can visit them to get gold. At the start of turn two, Odin and Niles show up to save us, acting on orders from Leo. Moron has to convince them to not kill everyone brutally, because Odin’s a chunibiyo and Niles is genuinely morally grey.

Odin

Owain from Awakening, now a Dark Mage instead of Myrmidon and pretending to be an evil wizard instead of a legendary hero. He also switches his costume to this tight, garish yellow outfit with a v-neck that stretches to his crotch. I’d complain if it was any character other than Odin; for Odin, it fits. I did like Owain in Awakening, but I will admit his schtick can get old. His personal skill gives him a boosted crit rate when using a named weapon with a name more than 12 letters long, something ridiculous that fits perfectly for a guy obsessed with legendary weapons and powerful spells. Also, he can reclass into a Samurai, a Hoshidan class, which makes sense given his class in Awakening.

Niles

Leo’s other retainer, a sadistic Outlaw. His personal skill, Kidnap, works the same as Orochi’s capture. Conquest is a bit harder than Birthright, though, so I’m afraid I won’t be grabbing another Kenshi. Fun fact, Niles is the only non-promoted bow user in all of Nohr. Niles’s design isn’t half bad; I like the eyepatch, white hair, and hood, although I’d like to note that it’s a bit odd that the sadistic criminal has a noticeably darker skin tone.

Flora apologizes to Moron for standing by her actions, calls Felicia a moron, and tells Jakob she wishes she was meeting him under better circumstances. Felicia’s battle quote with Jakob is especially interesting, confirming she was a hostage and hinting that she has feelings for him. Kilma prays for forgiveness for fighting Felicia and says Moron deceived him.

Moron spares Kilma. In fact, he wins the battle without killing anyone. Somehow. Moron has Elise treat the enemy wounded. Kilma is shocked by Moron’s kindness. Moron negotiates a deal where the Ice Tribe stops rebelling in return for more autonomy, something he has the authority to do that totally won’t be ignored by the child kidnapping mass murderer Garon. Kilma says that Moron might be the legendary hero after all. Flora apologizes for defending her people from an invading army who kidnapped her and her sister as a child and swears fealty to Moron.

So, here’s my problem with Conquest. Nohr is evil. Garon is evil. But Moron is good. So every chapter has him win battles without violence or negotiate people into working with him. Rather than having Moron struggle with his morality, it has him keep his hands clean, even as he conquers neighboring nations for the glory of a brutal dictatorship. It’s idiotic. And it will only get more idiotic as this game goes on. But first, we have some Supports to read.

Support: Corrin/Odin

C: Corrin finds Odin posing. Odin says his stance needs a unique name. Corrin gets annoyed by Odin and walks away.

B: Odin asks Corrin to name his pose. Corrin says they need tome to think of a name.

A: Corrin tries to hide from Odin. Odin tracks them down and annoys Corrin for a while. Eventually, Odin comes up with a dumb name for his pose: Shadow Glitter. Corrin is relieved that they don't have to talk to Odin anymore.

S: Odin asks Corrin to marry him. Corrin gets tired of his long-winded proposal and demands he get to the point. Odin gives a heartfelt proposal and immediately gets back on his bullshit.

Review: Not bad. Odin toes the line between funny and annoying and seeing Corrin get sick of his bullshit is a good dose of realism. This is also one of the only times Corrin isn’t ridiculously friendly. Also, by marrying Odin, Corrin joins yet another royal family.

Support: Elise/Effie

C: Elise asks Effie to go on a walk with her, but Effie is full from eating and asks Elise to roll her like a barrel.

B: Effie uses Elise as a dumbell. The two of them reminisce about how they met: Elise snuck down to the underground and befriended Effie and, when the guards tried to take Elise back, Effie tried to fight em off.

A: Effie talks about how she trained for years to become a castle guard so she could protect Elise.

Review: This is what Corrin and Silas’s relationship should have been. That is, free from dumb bullshit about Corrin having the memory of a goldfish. Lore is always good in Supports and this does a great job establishing Elise and Effie’s friendship, while also having some great comedy bits.

Support: Felicia/Niles

C: Felicia spills some soup on Niles. Niles begins stripping seductively. Felicia offers to take his clothes to the laundry.

B: Felicia offers to give Felicia a special, heavenly dessert. Niles assumes she's coming on to him. Felicia gives Niles a cookie.

A: Niles mocks Felicia for not understanding his double entendres. After finding out about Felicia's childhood as a hostage, he apologizes.

S: Niles proposes.

Review: A fun, kinda dumb comedic Support.

Support: Arthur/Mozu

C: Arthur finds Mozu analyzing the soil around camp. Mozu rambles about how farming is awesome.

B: Arthur helps Mozu plow a field. Mozu corrects his form. A: While Arthur is plowing, a heard of dragons fly over and shit all over him. Mozu is overjoyed because dragon droppings are great fertilizer. Also, I'd like to note a script error in this Support: dragons and wyverns are not the same thing. Wyverns are the mounts with animal-level intelligence, dragons are ancient magic beings that can transform into humans. Unless a flock of demigods flew by to shit on Arthur, the game means wyverns.

S: Arthur proposes by giving Mozu a special flower that is supposed to be planted by a husband and wife. Mozu accepts because Arthur's bad luck is a good source of fertilizer.

Review: The start of this Support is a bit bland, but Arthur getting covered in shit is great.

[radramblog]

A recap of a D&D One-shot: The B-Team

This is a little bit late, frankly, since the one-shot in question took place quite some time ago. But it’s pseudo-sequel is upcoming, and I’ve been building a character for that, so.

The B-Team was a very cool and good one-shot that turned into a two-shot because things kinda just kept going on for a bit, and that’s okay because we were having fun. It was the first D&D (or tabletop in general, excluding TCGs) I’d played in quite a while, since nobody’s campaigns had spare space and it’s not like I feel experienced enough to DM my own one.

It was also heavily inspired (I believe) by a movie I haven’t seen, so until it was literally spelled out for me I had no idea about that. Oops. Anyway.

I’m not sure this is going to be the most interesting content, but this is also going to nudge my memory about the setting and such, which is relevant for one shot two, so. At the very least, my mates who read this and weren’t there can get a rundown, even if it’s a little late.

We did so much crime.

The B-Team opens with our titular party returning to Huckston (a city I had assumed was spelled differently) from a job for local mob boss Seamus Greenleaf, a halfling sorcerer whose accent was as silly as his name implied. Dude was basically an extremely dangerous leprechaun. Said job involved the retrieval of a ring whose name I forgot but basically just gives regenerative immortality.

Our party was comprised of 4 members, each with a very particular set of skills that probably would have worked a little better if we’d communicated better beforehand. We had Prissy, a Half-Elf Courtesan and Wizard who was theoretically the party face but more importantly a nigh-untouchable Bladesinger, Vael, a Human Circle of the Shepherd druid who is likely single-handedly responsible for getting that subclass softbanned from our tables for just spamming rats and bears everywhere and making keeping track of things a pain, and Stitches, a Half-Orc Rogue who had to take up the tank/melee role even though their class was not suited to it, because the rest of the party was casters.

And then there was my character, Parri. A Kobold Artificer/Alchemist, who I’d essentially flavoured as someone who digs through dumpsters to find usable components to do the grossest possible magi/science possible. I’d deliberately taken spells that were less useful than they were flavourful- this snappy mans is very likely to have Grease handy since he’s probably rooted around in a nasty restaurant bin, he’ll have Heat Metal (a spell I didn’t realise was as good as it is) since that would be a useful tool for making things to hold dangerous ingredients, and y’all know he’s taking Acid Arrow. Actually, you get that one for free as an Alchemist anyway, so.

Parri was…interesting to play, to say the least. I’m sure people complain a lot about this sort of thing, but his accuracy with spells was frustrating at best. Alchemical Savant, on the other hand, was an excellent little boon that made sure said spells were dealing some sexy damage. I probably goofed up when I took Cantrips- Poison Spray was solid enough, but Mending was something I’m pretty sure I never used- while it makes sense for someone going through garbage to want to fix up the things they find, we did a lot more breaking than we did fixing. Parri was also a major Critical magnet, including on the opening turn of the final battle, so he spent a lot of time healing himself with various abilities.

Artificer is also a class I will probably wait a while before going back to, because it has a lot of little tinkering going on, appropriately enough. By level 9, where we ended the campaign, he had a sizable pile of spells with 3 levels, the Magical Tinkering ability to basically have a bunch of little things that do semi-useful stuff, 6 infusions- basically self-made magic items, with a huge list to pick from and 3 active at a time, the ability to make tools at will, two randomised Experimental Elixirs every long rest, that also give temporary HP, the ability to cure statuses and diseases pretty much at will, and the extremely useful Flash of Genius feature for yourself and allies. Added onto the Kobold stuff of Grovel, Cower and Beg (an ability that, despite being nutso bonkers, I literally Never Used), there was a lot to keep track of, and I’m much more keen to go back to something a little simpler.

These 4…adventurers? Would show up to Greenleaf and hand over the ring, only to discover that it was not the ring they had assumed it was, or at least, it didn’t seem to work. Assuming we, his loyal hench-group, were trying to screw him, he sicced his boys on us, forcing us to flee to safe haven, and attempt to make a next move.

Each of our characters had a person or group we knew in the city who could help (I deadass don’t remember Vael’s one, though), and as a team now being hunted by the largest gang around, we were hunting for options. Stitches had family working in the docks, who fortunately knew a guy who could promise us safe passage the hell out of dodge- and considering the circumstances, that seemed like the best idea if we wanted to keep our lives. His fee, however, was well beyond our price point, so our goal was, in fact, to get rich quick. For our lives.

And that’s just what we did, using the only thing we knew best: Crimes. Using Prissy’s contact- a hole-in-the-wall bar she used to work at (or at least, she knows the owner), we had ourselves a relatively safe base to work from for a few days, from which we could sneak off to the city’s underbelly- literal in this case, since it was in the sewerage- and find jobs of Questionable Repute to do. Lucrative, but dangerous. We took a couple contracts, bought some shit from Parri’s contact (Black Market Magic Items!), and got to work.

It is worth noting that, of course, our travel was not particularly free, as the price Greenleaf put on our heads was astronomical. So just about everywhere we went, we were met with someone or another trying to kill us for a reward. This was a great excuse to have Lots of Fights, but it meant that our resources were somewhat limited. Everything from goblins to fully trained Dragonborn warriors and tamed Drakes was on our ass, and fortunately, we survived each encounter.

The first job we took was pretty much the reason the game was extended to a second session- the assassination of a major noble pretty much turned into a murderous heist movie scene. With the noble in question being a sleazeball, it’s not like we really minded (Parri was evil-aligned anyway). It ended up a surprisingly involved plan, with Vael shapeshifting into a rat and Stitches doing Rogue Shit in the background to keep things moving, Prissy doing what courtesans do best and stab people to death in bed, and Parri disguising as a waiter, doing not a great job of it, but eventually enabling the escape by causing a distraction in the form of setting loose the noble’s pet Lion (via melting the chains, because subtlety is dead) and fleeing in the ensuing chaos. It was kind of a blast to put together, though particularly nerve-wracking- especially because if anything went wrong, or the set-lion-loose plan failed, Parri was in the middle of a room with many, many guards.

But it did go right, and the Lion even got to survive, after shrugging off a spell or two from the wizards guarding the place, so we got paid, called it a night, and called it a day in game because it was like 6 or something at this point I think.

After a week (or two?), we reconvened for the second part of what was now the B-Team two-shot. Our objective of Get Gold was not fully completed, but we’d gotten the majority of our funding sorted, so our next job would be something a bit easier and safer. As it turns out, that job would be Bullying Shopkeepers for Protection Money, something that made me vaguely uncomfortable IRL but hey, it’s only game.

Over the course of this job, we threatened a local blacksmith, a potion-seller (Parri made off with a brew or two), and a small local Goblin gang named the Green Mongrels. While this particular altercation turned violent, Prissy had just picked up Fireball, so you can guess how that one went. Two of the gang’s three leaders ended up so much dust on the ground, let alone the grunts, and the final one surrendered, which was appreciated. Especially since it meant we had a couple extra spell slots for the fight on the way back, being the one with the aforementioned tamed drakes.

Cash in hand, it was now time to get ourselves smuggled out of dodge, levelling up in the process. We actually levelled a few times over the course of the campaign, an accelerated pace mostly because it’s a short thing so it doesn’t really matter, and because levelling is both fun and lets the GM throw harder things at us.

Our attempt at escape was somewhat thwarted, as upon reaching the shore and farewelling our now quite rich trafficker, we were ambushed by our final foes. Because of course, if there was a B-Team, there would of course be an A-Team. This was a pretty interesting idea for a fight, a squad of four deliberately mirroring our own- A Goblin Artificer on the Artillerist stream, a Rogue preferring bows to swords and spending most of their time peppering us with arrows while stuck to the side of a cliff, a Druid that turned themselves into a monster rather than summoning like ours did, and a Wizard who’s class I don’t really know but boy did he like Counterspells.

This was a long, and protracted, and kind of brutal fight that took a lot out of the group, and I’m pretty sure more than one person (and by that I mean more than Parri, because he got shot right in the face for a crit immediately) was downed over the course of it. But eventually, the Rogue was knocked off the cliff enough times, the Wizard was downed and drowned, the Druid ran out of things to transform into, and the Artificer got taken apart with extreme prejudice.

But it didn’t seem to be over. As we were scrounging the bodies, someone attacked Stitches, and it was unclear whom or from where. We assumed it was the Wizard having somehow survived, as he’d been walking on water and thus his body ended up in the depths- couldn’t find it. Parri casts detect magic, and one very dead Wizard was found.

And a very suspicious Necromantic signature coming from Vael.

Turns out he’d had the reviving ring the whole time, and it was driving him completely mad. A final fight ensued, arguably our biggest damage dealer, currently unable to die, against the remainder of the party. And it was similarly brutal.

The tech ended up being for our not particularly strong characters to have to get close enough to pry the ring off his fingers so that they could actually become cold and dead. This was somewhat complicated by Parri getting very quickly downed by bats and bears, and Stitches being actually killed by such. After some healing and teleportation thanks to Prissy, however, we were just able to not only get the ring and finally put Vael down, but Parri, having recently learned Revifify and acquiring a jewel to burn on it, managed to un-kill Stitches.

Betrayal is a great way to make the closing moments of an adventure particularly memorable, I think.

Put mostly together, the ring and bodies disposed of (no-one holding on to this fucker anymore, ideally), 3/4ths of the B-Team wandered off into the sunrise, to restart their lives anew somewhere else. I like to imagine Parri opened a potion shop somewhere, but who knows if any town would actually suffer a Kobold long enough for him to do so.

And that was the campaign. It was a lot of fun, though it had been so long since a previous tabletop adventure that I don’t really have a lot to compare it to. The table seemed to get along well enough (I mean we were all friends beforehand, so der), aside from some somewhat awkward pauses.

And considering the sequel to this campaign is coming, with different characters and the same people (now significantly less stressed out since the Uni break is here), I’m extremely excited to get back into it. I have a new extremely small man to play as, and I couldn’t be happier to bring him to the table. Just…not as many nonsense abilities this time.

[thedisturbeddad]

That’s the Tooth

Dear Ms. Johnson,

I wanted to write something for Teacher Appreciation Week:

You have no idea (or probably you do) how much you’ve done for my son Skander. You might remember he had to miss school recently, when I had to take him to the dentist to have a baby tooth pulled. Back home, while his mouth was numb from injections (and he was drooling everywhere), it started feeling like those days he didn’t talk. We’d moved to Springfield when Skander was 4, and even as old as 5, he was still doing a lot of those “da da da” sounds.

But that’s years ago. Early Childhood tested Skander up on College St. when we first moved here, and Skander started kindergarten at Mark Twain with an IEP for his speech disability. It’s been so long ago it gets hard to remember what it was like to not understand him. But, after coming home from the dentist last week, I asked him if he needed anything, and we both started laughing when he said, “Muh nhhh ta ha.” I’m not being dramatic when I say it brought up old trauma with the kid. But then the most amazing thing happened: He started writing on a pad of paper what he wanted to eat!

I know a lot of people like to give awards to teachers: instead of actually finding a way to make teaching a lucrative career. I don’t have the power to do anything about that, and I don’t want to insult you with a meaningless ‘thank you’ either. I’m a veteran; so I know how that feels. I just wanted to say that I don’t know if you’re the best teacher in the world, but I do know that I couldn’t have gotten through the last 2 years without you.

And it’s not just because of Skander’s special needs. It’s Covid, and all the worries that it brought with it. I can remember how crazy it was when I started working from home early this year, (due to the fact my coworkers at Grizzly Industrial wouldn’t wear masks) and I was too worried about my mom’s life to try arguing with them. Even though the pandemic made me feel like I wasn’t in Kansas anymore (and all alone), Skander was at home with me. And you were there too! And we all tried, badly, to figure out how to make Zoom work, and we all tried to make it through the curtain.

I was doing my taxes this last January, hoping Biden would pass the stimulus he promised, and the TurboTax AI kept asking me if I bought supplies for my classrooms.

I couldn’t help thinking, “Why do teachers buy supplies for their classes?!”

I wouldn’t even bring doughnuts to my last job. Though I’ll admit they paid me a lot less than a public school teacher, while I expertly sold their expensive machines. This last February, Grizzly eventually had me listen to a recording of a customer who was urging me to go pick up my son from school at the end of my shift. I tried to tell him I couldn’t leave and had to continue taking his long order, even though that would have made me late. “It’s important” he’d said. That didn’t change the fact that I got a final warning for doing what he told me to (but I know now that he shouldn’t have had to tell me). In any case, I don’t work there anymore, and I’m not sure if I’ll find a job in time to make sure Skander and his brother go to Twain next year. But I wanted you to know that I understand what working for an employer who doesn’t pay you enough feels like.

But let’s get back to teachers appreciation week! And congratulations for getting a whole week, by the way! Must make you feel special. Veterans don’t even get that kind of guilt induced holiday. But society needs teachers more than veterans. Society probably feels that veterans have already been used up, but all you educators are still such juicy little morsels that people can throw into our American economy so we can pretend we’re not subsidizing child care for greedy companies (who pay parents, like me, such low wages). I’m sure Grizzly liked all the free babysitting you gave me. Don’t get me wrong. I know you guys do a lot of things, but let’s be honest about why y’all are considered essential workers.

But, all these things you do helped my son (and my family) make it through these last two years and got Skander to start talking. And, it’s not just you. It’s all of Mark Twain Elementary. It’s Ms. Richardson, his kindergarten teacher, and Mrs.Goodman the art teacher. It’s Mrs. Rhodes and Mrs. Wills who help him with his IEP. And Mr. B, who helps us with his stop sign in the mornings, as I drop Skander off each day. It’s everyone there.

You’ve all helped me communicate with my son and kept this city going through one of the worst pandemics in modern history. You guys are magical for how you adapted to these changes. And yet, magically, nothing ever changes for teachers and their wages. Don’t you just want to say ‘blah blah blah’ at how we all know this old story? I mean, it’s getting old to me.

But now I want to share a little magic of my own with you:

I’m not sure if Skander has told you, but we found out recently that half our family tree lived right here in Springfield. There’s a church cemetery north of town, called Mt. Comfort, which is basically a treasure trove of our DNA. I mean, if you think about all those dead bodies buried under there, which I try not to. But isn’t it amazing that we lived in a house, for over 2 years, that was a fifteen minute drive from that graveyard full of my dad’s ancestors?!

Skander and I don’t have my dad’s last name. My father’s name was Paul Reed, yet I took my mom’s last name of Barlow, because I never knew him growing up. Even though Skander and I have his Y chromosome, we were unaware that we descended from the Reeds in Springfield.

I’ve found a lot of colorful characters in our family tree, but my favorite Springfielder was Sherman Reed, a city firefighter, who was born in 1867.  Around the time Billy the Kid was being shot and killed, Sherman would have been a teenager when his family moved to Springfield. I first found the Reeds in the 1900 census records for Greene County, where Sherman’s dad lists himself as a blacksmith, working for the railroads. Sherman’s occupation was fireman. When I read old newspaper stories about him, Sherman talked about how he liked taking care of animals, particularly horses. You see. Back when Sherman was helping to keep everyone in town safe from fire, the people of Springfield weren’t sure about the new fangled fire engine they’d bought, so Sherman made sure that the horse drawn fire wagons were always ready to roll. Skander was the one to point out that the horses would have been scared of all that fire. We figure’d that Sherman must have been good at keeping the animals calm while putting out fires.

Sherman had a couple of kids (one of them my great grandfather), but got divorced before his kids were grown. I found him living in an apartment on College St. by himself when he was middle aged. I don’t know if you’ve ever read Harry Potter. If you have, then you may remember why Dumbledore always sent Harry back to the Dursleys each year.

I find it strange that most people don’t talk more about how cruel it was to send him back to those muggles every summer, but the old wizard explained to Professor McGonagall one time that it was because of an old magic spell his mother had placed on him (which ended up giving him his scar). Dumbledore talked about how older magic (based on blood and bone) were basically keeping Harry safe from He Who Could Not Be Named, and Harry needed to be housed with his kin each year to keep it working. Petunia was the only one Harry had left with his mother’s blood, you see.

You might think I’m weird, but it feels magical that Sherman once lived a few blocks from where Skander was first tested at the Early Development Childhood center on College St., before I even knew my family had lived here a hundred years ago.

I’ve included an article I found about Sherman, right before he died. He was 70 years old and had worked all his life without retiring. He’d never received a pension from Springfield. After all that invaluable service, he literally had nothing to show for it. If you read between the lines of the strangely familiar editorial piece I’ve included, you realize that, at age 70, Sherman was still hanging out at the firehouse like an old dog. Too old to do anything, but no one wanted to take him off the payroll because they knew he would have nothing to live on.

Isn’t that great? Thanks Springfield!

What was this whole letter about? You might be thinking. Well. I don’t have any way of really thanking you. And I’m not going to bring you fattening doughnuts as a gift either (I’m not saying anything to offend; I just know most people added a few pounds over the last couple of years).

But. I just wanted you to know. From experience. That, maybe, someday – some great granddaughter of yours might end up in Springfield, needing help. And when that future descendant of yours does…. If there’s still magic left in Springfield…. Then there’ll be somebody who works for the city (and who doesn’t get paid enough) who will be there to help. Cuz they’re hard workers who care. I know that doesn’t do you any good right now, but if Sherman is any indication: it’s all you’re going to get.

Thanks anyways,

Jeffrey Reed/Barlow

[itsworn]

Project W-31: A Hands-On Lesson in Drag Racing for a Group of Michigan State University Engineering Students

Americans love to wax poetic about 1969—Woodstock, the moon landing, cool cars—but it also was a tumultuous time to be a young male. Postwar prosperity and optimism gave way to assassinations, the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement, and general cultural confusion. But for a revolving door of Michigan State University (MSU) engineering students, 1969-1973 was a seminal period. Through an interesting sequence of events, they managed to convince Oldsmobile, MSU and its chapter of the Society of Automotive Engineers (SAE), and a host of suppliers to support the preparation of a race car on a shoestring budget.

Paul Aurand, Rick Dolan, Bob Sedlak, and Jim Minneker (later to become a Corvette Hall-of-Famer) knew one another from MSU’s engineering school, but they truly didn’t get together until they joined the student chapter of the SAE. The club met once a month, often spilling over afterward to Monte’s, a watering hole in nearby Okemos.

At Milan in 1972, Project W-31 prepares to go against another W-Machine.

In the fall of 1969, Jim Miller, an Oldsmobile engineer and technical advisor to the SAE chapter, playfully derided the students for not doing more as a group. Rick Dolan responded, “Why don’t you have Oldsmobile give us a car to build?”

Miller’s response surprised them: “If you guys find a place to work on it, I will find you a car.”

Dolan says, “We weren’t sure if it was Jim or the beer talking, but we took him seriously!” Within a week, he secured space in the blacksmith shop with the assistance of thermodynamics professor Frank Roop.

Project W-31 at Tri-City in 1970. Bob Dennis handled the first iteration of the lettering via contact paper. “Everybody agreed that those little 2-inch letters were too small.” He also painted the custom license plate and Dr. Olds trunk lid.

“Now it was getting serious,” says Bob Dennis, who joined the team soon after its inception. “We began looking at national records and what Oldsmobile offered. We decided against a 4-4-2 because they were not competitive, but folks were winning with W-31s. We spec’d out the engine, transmission, and rear axle.”

Several weeks later, Paul Aurand received an evening phone call from Jim Miller. “Be outside in 15 minutes, and be alone.”

They drove to the Oldsmobile Engineering offices, entered a locked facility, and parked next to a red vehicle. Miller handed Aurand the keys and warned, “The title has been sent to Lansing. The VIN has been removed. There’s no registration or insurance, and it has no plates. This car doesn’t exist. Kid, don’t get caught!”

On its first outing, Project W-31 ran G/SS due to wider-than-stock rear tires. Note the air induction system under the bumper.

Aurand continues, “I took the back streets on my way to campus. Several team members who had previously been alerted met me at our ‘garage.’ Nobody saw us come in.”

Hands-on Training What the team received was a 1969 4-4-2 hardtop that had been an Oldsmobile durability test vehicle set to be scrapped. Although the team had determined that the 4-4-2’s 400 was not competitive at the drags, Oldsmobile had followed through by including everything they requested: fresh W-31, four-speed, and 5.00:1 rear.

“Unfortunately it was heavier than it needed to be for the class, but beggars can’t be choosers,” says Fred Bowen.

At Project W-31’s second outing in 1970, the four-speed broke.

The team had varying amounts of automotive experience, but all had a lot to learn. “We studied magazine articles, including one featuring a team connected to Labadie Olds,” says Bob Dennis.

Adds Jim Minneker, “We wanted to race on the G/S national record (12.46). We raced in regional NHRA events, but it never got more competitive than that.”

Thanks to $1,000 in treasury dues that the SAE had collected over the previous 20 years, the team had the funds to buy equipment to make the Olds race-worthy. Yet it was the kindness of sponsors that really made it happen.

The legendary Trailer of Doom, spring 1970.

“We went on a letter-writing campaign,” says Minneker. “We were wholesome college kids racing cars asking, ‘Would you like a place on our car? A donation could give us a whole load of engineering experience!’”

Joe Guzek, engineer at Lansing-based Motor Wheel Corporation and another SAE technical advisor, was able to score Spyder wheels plus Goodyear 7-inch cheater slicks and Frontrunner lightweights.

“It was surprising how many were willing to donate equipment to us,” says Fred Bowen. “ACCEL gave us points, caps, and rotors. Once we were at US-131 and were approached by Calvin DeBruin, a 1950s-era MSU engineering grad and employee of Sealed Power. He provided us the company’s then-new ‘head land’ piston rings.”

Jim Minneker and Rick Dolan show off a trophy in 1970.

“The services we had to pay for were getting the heads cc’d and a three-angle valve job,” says Paul Aurand. “That cost us a couple hundred bucks, but everything else was donated.”

The team tore into preparing the Olds. Removing the sound deadener, melt pads, and undercoating was tedious. Aurand says, “We installed OHC-6 Tempest front springs to improve front-end lift and weight transfer at the starting line. Air Lift airbags were installed in the coils. We also installed the Tempest’s drum brakes, which were marginal.”

Rick Dolan was enthused by the machine shop and made steel bushings for the control arms. The team also modified the transmission into a “slick shift” (with no synchronizers), which enabled faster shifts.

Under no circumstances was Project W-31 to be driven in public.

Initial testing revealed serious rear-wheel hop upon starts, so a pinion snubber was built and installed to control this problem.

Off to the Races The team had a car, but how to get to the dragstrip? Initially the guys borrowed what was soon deemed the Trailer of Doom. Bob Sedlak explains, “I was towing with my 1963 Dodge wagon, and poor Bob Dennis was sitting in the Olds. I was simply trying to find the right speed, but there was no right speed. If you went 20 miles an hour it was marginal, and if you went a little faster or a slower it was wildly out of control.”

The group ended up borrowing a tow bar and using Al Wilson’s 1964 Plymouth for the rest of the year until Cliff Grupke bought his 1969 Cutlass. The pair presented nicely as tow and drag cars.

The W-31 team members, 1971. Back row, left to right: Cliff Grupke, Fred Bowen, Bob Senk, Al Wilson. Front row, left to right: Doug Arden, Jim Grum, Bob Dennis, Curt Dressler.

Project W-31’s first outing was at Onondaga in the spring of 1970. To their dismay, instead of G/S, they were obliged to compete in Super Stock due to wider-than-stock tires (the Goodyear “stockers” had yet to arrive). Jim Minneker and Paul Aurand piloted the Olds at the track. It performed admirably, but at Tri-City (its second outing), the transmission broke.

“We flat-towed the car with the driveshaft in place,” says Fred Bowen. “This caused internal damage to the tranny due to insufficient lubrication. After replacing the tranny, we always removed the driveshaft before towing.”

Few had previous track experience. Cliff Grupke, who joined in 1970, developed his own style. He says, “I usually stabbed the clutch. Thanks to the gearbox mods we made, it shifted nicely. I recall one time we were running well and went up against this Chevelle. I got to the line and used our rule of thumb: activate the Hurst Line Lock, bring yourself up to 6,000 rpm and, when you see the last yellow, go. We never red-lighted! When I saw that yellow, I let go of everything and got a good holeshot, but the Chevy also got out of the hole nicely. I reached for Second gear and missed, then jammed it in and got it going again. I still was ahead because he too missed the shift, but I recovered faster.”

On May 16, 1971, Project W-31 ran H/S instead of G/S at Tri-City. They won their class with an elapsed time of 13.14.

There also were obstacles beyond their control. Bob Dennis explains, “When we raced at Brohman M-37 Dragway, their so-called tech guys made us remove the air induction system, which was regular production equipment for the W-31. We said it’s factory, but they were adamant. They were afraid we were going beat the local guys, I think.”

Throughout the embryonic team’s existence, they also raced at Martin, Milan, and Detroit Dragway.

Uh-Oh To test their handiwork, the team would tow the Olds across campus to the commuter lot, sometimes arousing complaints from the married housing complex a half-mile away. “The first time I did a test burnout was a disaster,” relates Bob Dennis. “It was a late spring night in 1971. I brought up the rpm’s, popped the clutch, and I’m flying along this parking lot.”

After blowing the engine during testing in the summer of 1971, Project W-31 received a new engine.

Dennis Kline continues, “I was in the car and remember the exhilaration of the open-header launch was suddenly replaced by absolute panic when I saw a flash of light in front of us, which was a chain reflecting our headlights.”

Bob hit the brakes, but it was too late. The chain went up over the hood, broke the windshield, and continued over the car.

In a later test run in the summer, there was an enormous explosion, followed by silence. Cliff Grupke tells us, “I remember pulling the spark plugs there in the dark so we could look down into the chambers. John Shook had this little 12-volt light bulb rig that he could clip onto the battery terminals and lower through the spark plug hole. As he was peering down number 7, he uttered, ‘I wonder where the piston went?’ Jim Miller later diagnosed the problem as an over-torqued rod bolt, which I never believed because I know how careful and precise we were in building the engine. Jim was able to secure another engine, which we promptly fitted with our racing bits that had survived.”

Uh-Oh, Part II Aside from wide-open throttle tests in the commuter parking lot, the team never drove the Olds in public. Nonetheless, bringing a tow vehicle and rigging a tow bar were laborious, so Bob Dennis had the idea to obtain a provisionary pass to drive to the lot. “So, dumb me, I called Oldsmobile Public Relations.”

Project W-31 warms up its slicks as it prepares to race a Yenko Deuce Nova in 1972.

The call went nowhere, but eventually Jim Miller caught wind and said, “What in the hell are you doing? You’re getting people in trouble at Oldsmobile!”

Dale Smith, Oldsmobile’s manager of vehicle testing and racing support, wrote about the episode (albeit incorrectly) in his book Racing to the Past: “I did get a car for engineering students at Michigan State. Since they could not afford a trailer, they called Olds Public Relations to attempt to get the car registered so they could drive the car to drag racing events. I then received a call from a dumb $#!+ informing me that I had violated the General Motors racing ban, and that I had better get that car back before I got into deep trouble … I told him the bottom line on why you, me, or anyone else here exists is to sell cars. In my job, I’m trying to improve Olds’ youth image and cultivate new customers.”

The Second Season and Beyond In the spring of 1971, with MSU repurposing its facilities, Project W-31 lost its space in the blacksmith shop. Fred Bowen enlisted the help of Dr. Charles St. Clair, chairman of the mechanical engineering department. “We drove around the area looking for a suitable place to keep the Olds. We had little luck, so he said, ‘For now, you can keep it temporarily in my backyard.’”

MSU’s SAE club recruited new members with the line, “Drag racing is bigger than you think it is, Leroy! Get caught up in it this fall at MSU!”

From there, the Olds ended up in the driveway of Professor Roop. “I think we swapped upper and lower ball joints in his garage one time,” says Cliff Grupke. “We had absolutely no place to work on it, having to beg and borrow everything. I can remember writing letters to our sponsors asking them to renew their enthusiasm for our club.”

In the fall of 1971, Cliff Grupke became president of MSU SAE. “I tried to get everybody else to drive, but nobody seemed interested. I even threatened Al to drive it because he had worked so hard on that car, but I ended up driving quite a bit in 1972.”

Thanks to new member Bob Senk, the team was able to finish rebuilding the engine and putting everything back together at his family’s farm. “We pushed the car under a shade tree, took the hood off, and dropped the engine in with a block and tackle, just like you read about,” says Grupke. “After the summer, we stashed it at my mom’s in Southgate. In the fall of 1972, a local teammate named Jim Mauer had an empty garage at his mom’s.”

The Project W-31 team not only learned how to build a car, but the members also learned how to race. Current evidence of the team’s best shows 13.09 at 108.04 mph.

Where Did Project W-31 Go? All members went on to successful careers in engineering, and none forgot this early experience. They were reunited for the first time in 45-plus years because there’s a story to be told, but the million-dollar question is: What happened to Project W-31?

The trail seems to disappear in 1973. Rick Dolan recalls seeing the Olds at the trailer park next to Tom’s Party Store in Okemos. The car was sitting high in the front, as if the engine had been removed. Paul Aurand says that Doug Arden, a later member, claims the Olds was raced by George Cornell, who may have had a Lunati connection. Arden even thinks he has seen the Olds in more recent years—with lettering intact—in a Lansing lot.

Project W-31 was much more than a cool car story from back in the day. It’s about this great grassroots adventure by a group of engineering students who gained real-world experience through hard work, ingenuity, and initiative. Reminisces Bob Senk, “Absolutely thrilling! I’d go back right now and be glad to do it. As fun as can be. Way better than a rollercoaster!”

“We learned a ton of things in that short time. We also learned to build confidence in ourselves,” adds Bob Dennis. “Everyone was very lucky because we had something on our resumes when we graduated. The hands-on experience allowed us to stand tall and say, ‘This is what we’ve been doing while we were studying engineering.’”

Al Wilson agrees. “I was into it for a learning experience because I’d never done automotive work before. I learned everything I know from those years.”

Editor’s note: Members of MSU’s Project W-31 team will attend the Muscle Car and Corvette Nationas, November 17-18, in conjunction with this year’s W-31 Invitational. Plans include a presentation by the team. Visit mcacn.com for more show info.

The W-31 350 The W-31 Force-Air Induction system had its genesis in 1968 for F-85/Cutlass S/Cutlass Supreme coupes, which included the 325hp Ram Rod 350, special 2-inch intake/1-5¤8-inch exhaust valves, and special high-performance camshaft that Oldsmobile claimed “has very rough idle characteristics that would be objectionable to some owners.” A floor-shifted three-speed manual with 3.91 gears and Anti-Spin axle were standard, but most featured wide- or close-ratio four-speeds. W-31s were easily identified by two scoops under the bumper with tubes to the air cleaner. There were few changes for 1969, but Olds began marketing the ultrahigh-performance models under the W-Machine banner with Dr. Oldsmobile leading the charge.

The Good Guys List Project W-31 Benefactors: AC, ACCEL, Air-Lift, Demmer Corp., Denny’s Sunoco (for alignments and reworking the distributor), GE Silicones, Johnson’s Speed Shop, Kendall racing oil, Kustom Headers, Lakewood Industries, Lowell Automotive, Sealed Power piston rings, Stewart-Warner instruments, and Thrush Performance Products.

A Question of Grilles Project W-31 was a 4-4-2 masquerading as a W-31 Cutlass S. Each model used different grilles. By a stroke of luck, the team was able to score a correct pair. “I was living off campus and didn’t have a car,” says Cliff Grupke. “I used to borrow my buddy’s old Galaxie with rusted-through floorboards to get home to Detroit. During one visit, my mom said, ‘I’m going to get you a car. I don’t want you riding in this deathtrap.’ A mechanic friend who worked at a Dearborn Oldsmobile dealership mentioned there was a nice ’69 Cutlass with low mileage, and when it became mine, we swapped the grilles with the MSU car.”

Other Project W-31 Members Doug Arden, Curt Dressler, Jerry Feikema, Paul Gentilozzi, Jim Grum, Mike Miller, Roland Osborne (later of Chrysler Power fame), Dick Parnell, Rick Sunamoto, Ron Wingara, and several others lost to time.

The post Project W-31: A Hands-On Lesson in Drag Racing for a Group of Michigan State University Engineering Students appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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[jotawakening-blog]

10 Septober, 5A 169: Exploring Menaphos

I wake up from a light sleep at the diplomatic residence in the Merchants’ District at the crack of morning, just as soon as it’s bright enough outside to make my way through the city’s slums without drawing attention to myself via artificial lighting.  My plan is to go down into the catacombs beneath the city, where the Jack of Spades’ hideout is most likely to be, and catch him by surprise if at all possible.  Well, I hope this works…

I go down the narrow flight of stairs indicated to me by Batal yesterday.  The stairs soon broaden, and take me to a central chamber with four entrances, all identical and one on each side, and a deep well in the middle flanked by the statues of the four lesser gods in the Menaphite pantheon.  And… the Jack of Spades is there, clear as day, standing in his robes by the well!  I draw my crossbow and move in to apprehend him.  I call on him to surrender, or else we settle this by force of arms, at which the Jack merely scoffs and asks me “Is that any way to treat a friend?”

I growl at the Jack to cut it with the psychological games and let him know he’s no friend of mine but a common thief.  This really gets the Jack’s goat: he exclaims that he is not ordinary but one of a kind… and throws off his hood, revealing himself to be Ozan!  Aha— so he actually was a friend!  My bad!  I bid him explain.  First of all, how did he get into Menaphos?  The city seemed impregnable like a fortress, and I know I only got in by invitation!  Ozan explains that it took a clever disguise and some humiliation involving a snake charmer’s flute.  As for what he’s doing here, that much is obvious: he’s tracking down the Kharid-Ib.  He tells me Apep and Heru, Lady Keli’s two lackeys, weren’t just random Menaphites; they were high up in the city hierarchy.  So he’s been spending his time here gathering information, and what he’s found suggests that Amascut is in the city right now!  Well, not inside the actual city, but underneath it: there have been whispers of workers and soldiers being led into the Great Pyramid and not coming back out.  Some investigating has revealed that the captives are being used to dig up old tombs, for a purpose as yet unknown.  (And, yes, ‘captives’ is the right word: most of them are operating under mind control, a sure sign of Amascut’s presence!)  However, there is still much Ozan does not know, and it will take some doing to get more leads and figure out a course of action.

Okay, that makes sense.  One last question: why steal the items?  Ozan explains that his thefts were absolutely intentional, calculated to get my attention and make me rub shoulders with some of the figures at the heart of the corruption in Menaphos.  Grand Vizier Ehsan, for instance, covertly trades on lies and gossip, and keeps a record of the dirt she has on everyone who’s anyone in the city.  Her ascent to power has been largely based on extortion.  Ozan asks me to warn Grand Vizier Hassan about her, lest he stumble into negotiating a badly unbalanced treaty.  ‘Admiral’ Wadud, for his part, is little more than a greedy thug, with a monopoly on the city’s crime.  He gained his so-called rank by double-crossing the Skulls (seemingly a broader organisation than just the Draynor branch, and into piracy around these parts) and stealing a portion of their fleet for himself.  (Incidentally, Khnum has proven cooperative of late in providing information to Ozan about the Skulls: perhaps he will deliver some helpful intel against Wadud in time).

Ozan continues, moving on to Commander Akhomet, who used to be a great soldier before the Pharaoh ordered the gates closed, at which point she became little more than a lackey and a bully.  As for Batal, his case is the saddest: he was once a fiery campaigner for the rights of the working classes, but his downfall came when he tried to organise a protest against the abductions of labourers for the Great Pyramid project.  The Pharaoh ordered his hands cut off in retribution (how did I not notice that?!) and since then he’s been a broken man and willing collaborator with the regime.

Well, that about covers my questions.  I ask Ozan what he wants me to do with him: should I turn him in, and trust in his ability to make a dashing escape?  Ozan, however, tells me that it’s best we separated, and that I start courting the influence of the very same disreputable figures who run the various parts of the city.  Okay, I wasn’t expecting that, so I let Ozan explain, and his reasoning seems sound.  The stronger my ties with the grandees, the less likely it is that Hassan and I will have our right to visit Menaphos revoked.  In addition, getting on the locals’ good side could help drive a wedge between them and the Pharaoh’s increasingly reviled regime, and that can only be a good thing.  To get me started on this task, Ozan hands me the various things he stole from the grandees, and tells me to return them to their more-or-less rightful owners.  Once I’ve done that, and warned Hassan about Ehsan’s duplicitous ways, I should come back to him and work toward figuring out a plan.

I guess that means it’s time I became familiar with this sprawling city.  I go back out the way I came and make the workers’ district my first stop.  The first person I talk to there is actually Batal, whom I intercept walking by the entrance to the tombs.  And, now that Ozan mentions it, his hands really have been replaced with hooks!  Poor guy…  Anyway, Batal is grateful when I hand him his purse back, and tells me he looks forward to actually eating tonight.  Damn, I feel for the people of Menaphos.

I start my tour of the workers’ district in earnest from the coastline.  For whatever reason, though, you can see ruined buildings out quite some ways into the sea that look like they once formed part of the slums.  Kind of makes you wonder how they ended up submerged!  Anyway, the area isn’t very crowded: all it contains, other than a few unattended tents, is a small makeshift altar and a local practising his dance moves.

I then move inland, into the warren of huts and alleys that comprise the slums.  The locals seem to be quite aggrieved by the Pharaoh’s regime: they tell me half-whispered stories of corruption at all levels of the system, of working all day, every day without breaks and still not having enough to live on, and persistent crime that the guards aren’t willing to check.  In fact, the only things the guards— and there are many of them here— seem to be interested in is keeping the workers in the open-pit quarry from slacking off!  Sickening.

The whole workers’ district is grindingly poor, with only a few basic trades such as blacksmithing and pottery represented.  The merchants’ district, by contrast, is basically a different world, full of sophisticated trades and populated by folks who appear quite content with their lot and mainly concerned at getting an edge over their competitors through the bureaucracy.  I make my first stop in the district the diplomatic lodgings, where I return the ‘tax’ ledger to Ehsan, and use the opportunity while she looks through it to make sure nothing is missing to whisper a warning about Ehsan to Hassan.  Unfortunately, Hassan is not very willing to believe his ears when I tell him about Ehsan’s true colours, and quite loud about it to boot, and Ehsan overhears.  Gracefully, she assures Hassan that there is nothing suspicious in her actions besides what the troubled times necessitate.  Sadly, he seems to believe her, hook, line and sinker.  Oh dear, that’s definitely something that Ozan shall have to worry about.

Since I can’t prevail on Hassan that he’s being a fool, I exit in a controlled huff and hit the market, which is glittering with goods of all kinds, from gems to fish and beyond.  Standing off to one side is a very curious sight: a creature that looks like a hybrid between a human and a camel.  Sadly, it appears too busy with… whatever its business is… to talk to me, or even much notice me gawking at it.  North of the market, there are a few larger shops, and outside one of them, I run into a young woman named Pia who tells me she’s considering giving up being a merchant and becoming a slayer master.  I agree to help her practise and tell her to give me a slayer assignment.  ‘Fine,’ she tells me, ‘Go kill 24 Scabarites!’  Um, that’s not a name of a monster I’ve encountered before, so I ask her where I can find these creatures.  ‘In the Scabarite hive, of course!’ she says, as though that would have been obvious.  I conclude she’s quite likely pulling my leg and move on to the shops.

These, it turns out, also contain a great diversity of wares, going beyond what you would find even in great market centres such as Varrock.  For one, there’s a shoe store with the largest selection I’ve ever seen, where I spend more time than I care to admit.  Then there’s a shop that claims to sell spirit lamps— and not just regular lamps, but ones that can be used four times before they are used up!  The seller tells me the tale of how he won the secret of making them from a wizard in the Eastern Lands that he beat in a game of Runeversi, and I believe him… that is, up to the point where I actually inspect one of his lamps, and it looks to be just an ordinary clay lamp with a nice paint job, nothing magical about it.  So I challenge the stall keeper to prove to me that his lamps are all they’re cracked up to be, at which point he shoos me away.  Pah, what a cheat!

I leave the guy’s stall with a grimace and hit up the shop behind him, which is focussed on the spiritual arts and even holds a full-fledged summoning obelisk!  Unfortunately, the shopkeeper is rather low on shards and other summoning-related lairs, to the point where he asks me whether I come bearing manuscripts and supplies from the ‘greener lands’. (Taverley, perhaps?)  Anyway, since I’m not buying and he’s not selling, I move on toward the river, which seems to attract poets and entertainers making the most of the city’s stifling atmosphere.  Nearby, there’s a baker’s stall and the city’s largest general store, which is stocked with the usual necessities, as well as a local speciality: blue-and-gold feathers known as talismans of Ma’at.  They’re supposed to be used for cleansing corruption from the spirit, and while that’s not something I need right now and the feathers are mighty expensive, I buy one regardless: you never know when they may come of use.  In fact, having one may have protected me from that whole Icthlarin fiasco in Sophanem, now that I think about it!  It never hurts to be protected, the point is.

South of the market proper, I find a lone stall selling toys and, more importantly, the city bank.  While the bankers there seem to have arrangements not only with the Bank of Gielinor but with the Grand Exchange as well.  (Hardly surprising that the Pharaoh would be interested in maintaining a strong flow of trade despite the physical isolation of the city!)  Sadly, the staff there demand that I show a token of approval from the Grand Vizier before they’ll let me use the facilities… and after ratting on her, I’m not sure she’ll give me that.  But we’ll see.  Opposite the bank, meanwhile, I glimpse from afar the Palace guard— a much more flashy group than regular city guards— arresting someone for an unknown transgression!  I try to get closer and find out more, but the guards warn me not to make a scene, so I reluctantly, with Ozan’s warning not to compromise the broader mission in mind, move on across the central plaza toward the royal palace, where Akhomet tends to spend her time.  Unsurprisingly, not many citizens linger directly under the gaze of the pharaoh and the many guards, but one person catches my attention: a woman with a butterfly net who’s looking for implings, but confesses not to have had much luck in that regard, recently.

The Imperial District, now that I’ve got a chance to take a proper look at it, is even more beautiful than it first seemed, made up as it is of expansive parkland, acadia trees and palms that provide shade, and pools of flowing water.  I make a beeline for Akhomet and return her dagger to her, adding that the Jack of Spades unfortunately remains at large.  She’s not too displeased at this news, though, and in fact tells me to check back with her later, as she might have some work for me.  Okay, much as I like to avoid dealing with treacherous snakes, I feel Ozan is right on this one and I should take her up on the offer.

For now, though, I ask her a favour that I’m pretty sure will get shot down: would she let me enter the palace, just so I can have a quick look around?  To my surprise, she tells me to go on ahead— as a diplomat, I do have that privilege— and so I let a guard usher me through the grand gates and into the pyramid.

The guard leads me straight into the monument’s heart, a hall of marble as pure as snow and as noble as an icyene.  The Pharaoh’s throne stands on a high dais on the far side of the room, with the ruler upon it.  Next to him is that utter snake Ambassador Jabari, slipping poison into his ear.  There is every air of decadence in the decor— indeed, the ground below the Pharaoh’s throne is heaped with mountains of gold coins five metres high.  So much gold, and all on display!  There must be several billion gold pieces’ worth in that pile!  And yet, for all that, the Pharaoh exudes an air of preternatural wisdom, and, somehow, that is the part of the whole set-up that worries me most.

Unfortunately, an audience with the Pharaoh is out of the question: his schedule is already filled by various petitioners, some of whom have come audaciously to vent their grievances with the regime at the very source.  For instance, there’s a priest who’s complaining about the Pharaoh’s policy of destroying every scrap of text that denies his divine lineage.  With her is a merchant who complains about the onerous taxation that supposedly leaves the tradesmen of the city barely able to afford a modest standard of living (though how much of that is due to their fundamentally expensive lifestyle is another question)— still, the giant piles of gold around the throne suggest she has a point.  A final set of complainants comes from the army, like the officer of the guard who wishes to bring to the Pharaoh’s attention the increasing rate of desertions by soldiers who abandon their posts to become common thugs.  

Keeping order against the petitioners are the royal guards, who brandish their weapons conspicuously and seem to relish the prospect of suppressing any overt violence with lethal force.  Given the delicacy of the situation and the fact that I’m under orders not to jeopardise the prospects for a lasting detente between Al-Kharid and Menaphos, I take my leave of the palace and have a walk through its outer grounds.  Around the back of the palace, I find a small residential district and, looking out to sea, even more evidence that a sizeable part of Menaphos has disappeared under the waves.  To my surprise, even this close to the seat of power, one can find revolutionaries, including a musician who has drawn a modest crowd with his call to arms.  Maybe the guards are letting him be as an outlet to all the tension pent-up in the political system…

As I walk down toward the houses of the district, I unexpectedly spot an egg on the pavement.  Thinking it just a normal chicken’s egg, I pick it up, and to my surprise find it covered with lustrous greenish-black flakes, as though corrupted!  And as I hold the egg, it starts moving, and before I can figure out what to do with it, it cracks open and a glowing green scorpion, apparently some kind of spirit creature, hatches out of it and begins to follow me around!  I don’t know what I’m going to call my new friend… perhaps Ishhara?  I think that’s what the Kharidian scorpion in the story that palace guard once told me while I was staying in Al-Kharid for the night was called.  And if memory fails to serve, well, Ishhara will just have a unique name that sounds Kharidian enough.

The residential areas of the imperial district are populated with dull members of the administrative elite to whom I have little to say, so I start heading back toward the central plaza.  On the way there, I pass a side entrance to the royal palace with stone carvings that indicate that the great library of Menaphos lies within.  Remembering the task Osman set me, to learn about the succession of pharaohs, I head inside, into a deep, multi-tiered chamber of bookshelves and scrolls that puts the palace library in Varrock to absolute shame!  I mean— with this sort of knowledge, it’s no wonder Menaphos is so rich and powerful!

I relinquish all plans of visiting the docks of Menaphos today, and instead sink into sampling some of this immense collection.  There’s way, way too much to be read in a single visit or even a single lifetime.  So I sample more or less at random.  The first work I look through is the diary of an architect, and specifically one impassioned entry in which he defies the desert and declares that Menaphos alone shall stand eternal.

I take that book along and move on to other shelves.  The next book I sample happens to be another journal, this one by a seer named Saa Akila that must have appeared in the library very recently.  In it, she describes a series of ill omens that have befallen the city: the Sophanem plagues, the withering of the royal gardens, the decadence that has replaced innovation, and ultimately the abandonment of the city by the gods.  Akila fears that, if these trends are not reversed, if openness is not restored, that may be the end for Menaphos.  Sobering thoughts.

The next book I look at is rather light-hearted in comparison, being a guide to the brewing of tea.  The advice that it gives is nothing revolutionary, though it does recommend that spices from the eastern isles be added to the tea— an exotic proposition given how little of that stuff has made it out to the Three Kingdoms!; the interesting part is the social commentary, on how tea is a gift from Tumeken and a suitable drink for the working class to make them more content with their toil.

I move on to the next book, which turns out to be another very recent diary by a girl named Dawnsu, evidently from Sophanem.  In it, she tells the tragic tale of how her parents both came down with Klenter’s Plague (an event that, let’s face it, was more or less my own damn fault…).  In an extremely odd twist, she becomes friends with a penguin (yes, a penguin, in the desert) pretending to be a cactus, and this penguin, named Sophie, smuggles her out of the plague-infested city to a new life.  That’s… almost too strange to believe.  And yet, her words are right there on the page!

The next account I pick up is a memoir by a disciple of Amascut by the name of Tefnut, in which he reminisces about how as a child he would rise to observe the beauty of the sunrise, yet now, as an old man, knows that beauty is a distraction and the only truth lies in emptiness.  If he really believes that, it’s quite sad!

By that point, I’ve completed my circuit of the upper tier of the library and it’s near closing time, so I tuck the books I removed from the shelves into my bag, the better to smuggle them out, and nonchalantly have a conversation with the librarian about the state of the collection.  He rebuffs my compliments about the sheer volume of knowledge stored within with a scathing attack on the Pharaoh’s policies of book-burning, which have severely depleted the shelves of material on history, sociology and, um, adult romance.  Fortunately, the librarian says, thus far they’ve been able to get away with burning only duplicate copies, but the time is approaching when the Pharaoh’s philistinism will start to do real damage.

Um, I guess I’m kind of doing my part to save this priceless knowledge, by stealing a few works here and there for my personal collection?  Anyway, the stuff I took doesn’t seem to be that valuable and I doubt the librarian (singular!) will be quick to notice it gone.  Still, there’s a lot of shelf space I haven’t even glanced at yet, and the book Osman was seeking must be around here somewhere!  I shall come back tomorrow and see what I can find.