Alston: December 2005 Archives

(Continued from the this entry)

As the third son of the North's ruling house, Lord Alston was not expected to become king, let alone lead armies and people to salvation. But when his eldest brother Lord Basil was killed through his own dark ambition, and his elder brother Lord Lyonel captured by the central Roycan faction, it eventually fell to Lord Alston to settle the conflict once and for all. He reluctantly donned the king's crown.

First sons of great houses are expected to learn the sword and campaigning, religion, music and politics. Lord Basil was not an apt student, however, and he put his own designs for power ahead of his responsibilities to family and people. This ultimately led to his betrayal and death by the Roycan. Lesser sons, such as Alston, are typically given more leeway to follow different paths. Alston chose to study the first the staff as a weapon, and later, the mystic arts. It was quite fortunate that he did, for the Roycan forces drew upon magics that at the time were little-known and considered new. Alston was able to counter their knowledge with his own, and after two years, finally crushed the Roycan and rescued Lord Lyonel.

Upon Lord Lyonel's return, Lord Alston turned the realm over to his brother, and spent the rest of his days travelling the world, perfecting his staff fighting and focusing his energy into the study of magic. Followers appeared in the hundreds during his lifetime, and in the thousands centuries after his death. It is said that his equipment still bears some of his essence.

Me being me, I waited until today to try to rent a car for the long weekend. Actually there were too many variables for me to be able to determine what my course of action should be, but I had to take action. I have to see me family this weekend for Christmas, and I have decided to try renting. National had nothing. I can't rent from Avis, so I tried Hertz, even though the last time I did I nearly died. To rent a car from Hertz from December 23-26 costs $288, with no insurance.

Two hundred and eighty-eight. Dollars.

They tripled the rate. That's Christmas spirit. Feeling as though I had no choice, I booked the car. Seamus overheard my plight, and bless him, knows someone working at Entreprise that could give me a better rate. I got a car from December 23 to the 27 for $89.

Damn right! But there's a catch. I have to travel to Île-Perrot to get the car, which is a forty-minute commuter train ride. But I get to take the train, which is ALWAYS good, unless some damn toddler just has to run around and make noise or some such shit. But can you believe this GOUGING? Fucking sick.

A Feast For Crows by George R. R. Martin came out on my birthday this year. I am rereading the series now, starting with the first book, A Game of Thrones. I have to say that it was excellent the first time, and kicks the shit out of that Jordan crap, but the second time around it's much MUCH richer, which you can't always say for books. These books are part of a proposed seven-part fantasy series called A Song of Ice and Fire. It is supposedly based on 15th-century War of the Roses England. Unlike many other fantasy series, this one is long on intrigue and gritty, unforgiving reality, but relatively short on the fantastic.

In this series, and in Olde England, I guess, the major houses had crests, often with an animal doing something, and a saying. The Starks of Winterfell, for example, had a grey direwolf on a field of white. Their words are "Winter is Coming". Individuals from the houses also had their own sigils. If I were the High Seat of some noble House, I wonder what our symbols would be. Maybe the animal would be a giant scorpion, tail upraised. The words would be something along the lines of "By Might or by Spite". My personal sigil might include a black sword, shadows and something else.

In the games Diablo II and Dungeon Siege II, you pick up money, weapons, armor and magically-imbued amulets and rings as you defeat enemies. Some of the most interesting items are set items. Set items are presumably relics from of a great hero of an age long past. When worn, the wearer is granted extra abilities. For example, Tal Rasha's Wrappings. If I was such a legendary warrior whose gear bestows extra abilities, it would likely be a fighting mage type of set. I think I'll use my actual name for this one. They would call the set Alston's Assembly. I'll come up with the parts and what they do in detail in another post.

What would your house avatar be? What's your saying? What's your set name? What is in this set? I'd like to hear what your responses might be.

At age six, I was surprisingly aware of certain things. In Ontario, Remembrance Day used to be a holiday. It was one of the three saddest days of the year (the other two being the Jerry Lewis Telethon). I felt that it was my civic duty to pay homage to all those that fell during the Great Wars. All day, literally, ALL DAY, I would watch black and white footage of aggression, sacrifice, valour, selfishness and always twisted, grisly death. Every so often a tear would escape my eyes. I felt as though it were my responsibility, because if I didn't remember them that way, somehow, I would be a damned soul doomed to suffer in unspeakable ways. Maybe I would share the fate of the poor people on TV. Remembrance Day was always a rainy, cloudy, colourless day. I don't remember any colours from those days, honestly.

But 25 years ago today was different. Worse, somehow. While with Remembrance Day, I was alone watching TV, feeling morose, doing my annual duty (which I didn't really mind, since it was only once a year), the day that John Lennon died, I went to school. I remember hearing the news some time between six and seven A.M. John Lennon was shot dead by a crazed fan. I knew that John Lennon made music, and that the adults all knew who he was, and loved him. He was their...something-or-other. Someone really, really important and well-liked. When I got to school, the colours seemed to flee. It wasn't just a grey day, but a distinctly black day. The teachers all seemed to look as though they had lost their best friend; later I would realize that they had probably lost a good part of their youth, and that they then realized that they were quite mortal. They walked around stunned. They didn't seem to know what to do anymore. My teacher seemed to have trouble doing her job. At the end of the day when other kids parents picked up their children, they were stone-faced and silent. Every single one of them.

When I got home, the news breaks had exactly one story. John Lennon was dead. When the news came on, there was exactly one story. John Lennon was dead. There was nothing else to talk about. But the blackness! I guess I was much more sensitive then, and things would manifest themselves in colour, or lack thereof. Maybe this is how mediums can sense spirits. There was definitely a spirit of sorts that day. The last times I felt that darkness apart from Remembrance Day was a few months later when Anwar Sadat, Pope John Paul II and Ronald Reagan were shot (same calendar year). I wonder whatever happened to that sensitivity.