{"id":35496,"date":"2016-11-16T05:07:25","date_gmt":"2016-11-16T09:07:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/?p=35496"},"modified":"2016-11-24T03:21:10","modified_gmt":"2016-11-24T07:21:10","slug":"master-of-firin-sword-ch1-the-art-of-powerdice","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/?p=35496","title":{"rendered":"Master of Firin’ Sword CH1: The Art of Powerdice"},"content":{"rendered":"

In Mount and Blade, <\/em>you play an upwardly mobile and clinically indestructible side of medieval beefsteak. It’s a power trip of a game; through determination and self-actualization alone, you swizzle armies around you like cotton candy and personally slay the population of a modest kingdom. If you desire it, and play for long enough, it is an absolute guarantee <\/em>that you can become the king of the world. Obviously, it was only a matter of time before someone adapted this franchise around celebrated works of Polish-language historical literature. Enter Mount and Blade: With Fire and Sword.<\/em><\/p>\n

Very little has mechanically changed, but these changes <\/i>have insidious effects on the greater experience. For example, there’s bullets. There’s rows of guys firing bullets. There’s rows of guys on horsebacks firing bullets at you. And the important thing, the crucial thing, is that you can’t duel <\/em>the bullets.<\/p>\n

Fans of the franchise who were used to exterminating entire castles of pseudovikings with nothing more than a caffeinated blocking reflex and a good fast battleaxe were quickly discovering just what 17th century Poland thinks of heroes. And many of them, it must be said, questioned the appeal of a mass combat game where you often die immediately and unavoidably. From a strategic viewpoint, it’s not unlike playing regular Mount and Blade <\/em>during a thunderstorm.<\/p>\n

Or so they think! Join me now as I relate to you my secret to success as an Eastern European warrior-poet: a terrible fear of being shot.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

It's not obvious, but all of these settings are at their most punishingly difficult extremes.<\/div>
It's not obvious, but all of these settings are at their most punishingly difficult extremes.<\/div><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

March 23rd, 1655.<\/strong><\/p>\n

When you get right down to it, it’s the…whizzing.<\/em><\/p>\n

Of course I’m not afraid of firearms. That’s an outrageous and pigheaded slander. It’s nothing to do with the bullets or flames or smoke or blood or defecation or danger, I promise you–I’m simply averse to that infernal buzz <\/em>as a bullet thunders by. I find it odious. If I were afraid of bullets, would I have shot at so many people?<\/p>\n

I'll spare you the analysis. I am good at shooting people, taking things, and riding very quickly away. Modern pursuits for modern men.<\/div>
I'll spare you the analysis. I am good at shooting people, taking things, and riding very quickly away. Modern pursuits for modern men.<\/div><\/p>\n

Lamentably, opportunities are scarce for men of my refined sensibility. Europe being what it is, it can be very difficult to find work not <\/em>being shot at. My last position was as a clerk in Riga. I was charged with reading the latest news dispatches and consulting an index of territories to determine, to the nearest estimate of modern science, exactly which nations Sweden was currently at war with. When I grew sick of my superiors casting aspersion on my calculations, I left to seek my fortunes elsewhere. I don’t see what the fuss was about. We’re certainly at war with Russia now.<\/em><\/p>\n

These are dark days indeed–the days of dogs and wolves, as my grandmother would say (and her judgment in this matter was unimpeachable). Vile men pillage the countryside at leisure. I have heard much of their lootings, plunderings, and staggering fortunes. I won’t lie: I found these tales absolutely sickening. No longer capable of sitting idly by, I have sallied forth with musket and horse to deny those silver-hungry hordes their satisfaction. I will do whatever I must to keep the wealth of the people from falling into other, unrighteous hands.<\/p>\n

Don't call me a hero. I believe a true hero lets the songs and poems and light theater written about him speak for themselves.<\/div>
Don't call me a hero. I believe a true hero lets the songs and poems and light theater written about him speak for themselves.<\/div><\/p>\n

It is under these circumstances I have set out for Smolensk. Besides my trusty steed, Erik, and my faithful musket, Fanny, I have the clothes on my back and my life’s savings of one hundred thaler. From this grist will I mill the flour of glory<\/em>.<\/p>\n

All heroes come from humble beginnings--and humility is but one of my heroic qualities.<\/div>
All heroes come from humble beginnings--and humility is but one of my heroic qualities.<\/div><\/p>\n

I am weary, saddlesore, and filthy from the road. I have not a single friend in this foreign city in this wartorn kingdom. In a town like this, there’s only one destination for a fortune-seeking pilgrim such as myself: the local official’s manor.<\/p>\n

I just wish there was somewhere else an adventurer could go to find work.<\/p>\n

As it happens, the Warlord Fyodor Obukhovich has just the thing for me. He is owed a debt by Count Casimir Tyszkiewicz totaling four thousand thaler. He tells me that if I can find Count Casimir and convince him to give me four thousand thaler, that I will be able to keep eight hundred for myself. He is undeniably correct. Where might I find this Count?<\/p>\n

Ah.<\/div>
Ah.<\/div><\/p>\n

So I have set out on the road to Castle Lodz. My way is littered with dangers, yes, but there is no danger without opportunity. In these troubled times there will be other warlords to treat with, other quests to be undertaken, other fortunes to be won. This humble highway shall be my river. The birdsong is my inspiration, the rustling leaves my companions, the heavy foosteps my–<\/p>\n

Ah.<\/div>
Ah.<\/div><\/p>\n

NEXT WEEK: THIS IS SOMEWHAT LESS GRIST OF GLORY THAN I’D MEANT TO GET ON WITH<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In Mount and Blade, you play an upwardly mobile and clinically indestructible side of medieval beefsteak. It’s a power trip of a game; through determination and self-actualization alone, you swizzle armies around you like cotton candy and personally slay the population of a modest kingdom. If you desire it, and play for long enough, it […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[242],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-35496","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-lets-play"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35496","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=35496"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35496\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=35496"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=35496"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=35496"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}