The Door clatters open and an old one-legged man...

[Tatsuki]

*...enters the room silently and hobbles over to a chair by the fire. He indicates to the pretty serving maid with a finger and a mutter under his breath that she seems to hear and understand, then settles, somewhat roughly into the chair, while she brings him a Dwarven Goldlager, and sets it before him. He smiles beneath his weathered graying beard, a sparkle of mischief in his pale blue eyes, and presses a platinum Orcish Imperial Thaler into her hand, and dismisses her with a low chuckle and a nonchalant wave, and a quick, lecherous, pat on her backside. She is not threatened by the obviously harmless old cripple, but there is something about him, an air of confidence and security that only comes with true power. Leaning back on the chair, he scoops up the heavy crystal tankard of rich, honey brown liquor, with its telltale golden flecks floating within and raises it towards the room before tipping the foamy brew to his lips. Somewhere in the distance, a raven caws at night, an ominous omen, to be sure...*

[Ant]

Welcome to the guild! Your snippet of this story you are telling, while brief, paints a vivid mental image in a way that can be considered both inspiring and immersive. It is my belief that story, along with the visual aids of maps, can help to truly captivating and thrilling tale. This is especially true in the Sci-Fi / Fantasy genre, and in turn just as applicable in RPGs.

I hope we get to see more of your current project(s).

[Tatsuki]

The old man chuckles hoarsely before breaking into a fit of coughing that ends with him wheezing sharply, and pounding himself on the chest.

Welcome, lad, or is it lass? I can never tell any more, with all the girls in trousers, and besides they say the eyes are the first to go...or was that memory? Never mind...

He fishes a large pipe of obvious goblin make from the folds of his cloak, and begins filling it with tobacco, so sweet smelling that it must have been imported from far off elven lands. Then pressing the pipe into his teeth, of which he still has most, he snaps his fingers dramatically and a small flame leaps from his index finger, which he then uses to light the pipe.

The smoke from the pipe is strong and sweet, like honey incense touched with blackberry brandy, and spiced with deerstongue, and perhaps, a little sweet herb. he coughs again, and holds forth the tobacco pouch to you.

Do ya enjoy a little? Nah, your one of those "healthy" people aren't ya? They say it'll kill ya, but I always believed a dragon'd get me first.

He raps briskly with his pipe on the peg leg on his right, dwarven workmanship in the mithral, and laughs outloud.

Almost did to, and probably would'a if I hadn't been blessed by my time studying the lizardfolk. Ya see, Ssit'kiz the great shaman of the Inkali lizard people saw fit to bless me with the rite of survival. Now, ya see, I taste bad, really bad, like troglodyte bad, I got bad taste too, but that's another story, and while the cruddy sooty worm, yes worm, not Weerm (wyrm), lay there gaggin' on my foot, I managed to grab up a staff from his horde and bust it over his skull.

He falls silent for a moment as if for dramatic pause and continues in subdued tones.

Ya know what a staff of the magi is lad? or lass, ya never did answer me on that one, don't think I didn't notice. Of course you know what a staff of the magi is, yer not an idiot, are ya? Anyway, better question, do ya know what happens when you break one over a dragon's head? No? Well I tell ya, there was a flash of light so bright my skull hurt, and everything was gone! I mean everything, the dragon, the cave, my gnawed on foot, everything, and just when I got to thinkin' I must be dead, turns out it was worse than that...

My sight come back to me, all-of-a-sudden-like , with this horrible clanging and shrieking noise, and I look around to see I am lying on the street, footless, that hurt, surrounded by a bunch of half-pint, big nosed, little guys, and some adorably cute miniature gals, thinking, where in the Nine am I? When this little guy blurts out,

It Worked! At least before it exploded, it did!!! Welcome to Mount Nevermind, home of innovation, sorry 'bout your foot!

And that is the start of another story, see what ya got me doin' lad? Ima just gonna call you lad until you correct me, seems safer than the alternative, anyway!

You want to know about my projects and here I am, so starved for company, I'm rambling on like a old fishwife, not that there's anything wrong with old fishwives, or their daughters <he winks>.

Projects, you say, well, I'm Old school, crayons and paper, so most of it didn't survive my adventures, but I got it all up here, <rapping on his head with his long forgotten pipe> and I started learnin this new magic, computers, back in the days of Campaign Mapper, you remember that one, Campaign Mapper? Nah, prolly not, but anyway, that was simple, point and click, but as buggy as a thri-kreen hunting party, and the maps were ugly.

So, now, I got me some state-of-the-art-of-magic mapping software called Campaign Cartographer 3+, but my old brain is having some difficulty wrapping itself around the magic, so I have hobbled in from my travels to learn from masters and try to translate my dreams to maps of adventure.

So, pull up a seat lad <his bushy eyebrow raises, with the slight questioning pause>, and let me buy the next round, while you show me your projects, and hopefully inspire better cartography.