In Which I do FRPG Stuff

So I was wandering through woods, which were thick and faceless. There were no landmarks and no way to tell where I was. The woods were dark and overgrown, but there were a lot of animals. Fantasy animals. Fantasy RPG animals. And I was killing them with my big shiny sword.

I was myself, although more muscular and certainly more skilled with a sword. I was wearing nice chainmail and leather armor. I guess it was leather with chainmail over it. I had comfortable boots and thin leather gloves. I was at least a part-time spellcaster, so it was important that I could move my fingers. I had a light metal headband on. I guess it was a crown. I could tell that it was magic, and that was why I was wearing it. Magic items feel sort of warm and tingly, but only if you think about them. Just so you know. All of my armor was at least a little magical, as though I had been at this for a while and been keeping the good stuff.

I also had a big backpack that I was filling up with stuff. It was just like a live version of the fine PC game Angband, in that I could put a set number of items in it, no more, whether those items were mushrooms or Large Iron Chests (Locked). Luckily, I was a fairly high level character and could sense easily whether things were (good), (average), (cursed) or (special). I also seemed to have the mutant ability that my favorite character has, Midas Touch. Basically, I would grab something and think. It would vanish and I would feel my money pouch jingle a little, but not get any heavier.

I had a backpack full of stuff. I had probably just killed a bunch of heavy treasure-dropping monsters. I set to turning the staffs and wands and other easily identified stuff to gold, while I waited to automatically ID the weapons and armor. I wondered how much money I had, and looked down at my money pouch. A number appeared on it in plain ASCII text. I found I could also call up a text list of what was in my backpack by moving my fingers as if I were typing "i." Of course, that's the (i)nventory command in Angband.

Everything that wasn't physical, like walking, fighting or eating, seemed to be controlled by making little keyboard hand movements. Truly, a good way to do magic spells. No matter where I looked, at the bottom of my field of vision was my hunger level and dungeon depth. At the top were changing messages, depending on what I was looking at or doing. On the left, my hit points, magic points, stats and class. I was a 45th level Rogue, with some pretty darn decent attributes.

I don't know why I didn't notice that before. The ASCII characters made interesting contrast with the intensely natural forest and even the organic creatures.

Slowly, the creatures began becoming more computerized. Not slick CGI beasts, nor even polygons. They became their Angband symbols. Being a texty game, the Wild Dogs became small brown cs, the Large Kobolds became green Ks, and the Novice Mages became red ps. They were still three-dimensional and moved normally, despite lacking features. When I cut into them, they bled, deflated, and disappeared.

I was fighting, but I didn't feel endangered. I would work on reducing the stuff in my pack to gold, something would walk up, I'd kill it. Ho hum. It was actually kind of nice. Sometimes the trees would flicker and become green #s for a second, but that wasn't very often. I could hear a little hum whenever I did something complicated, like a computer was trying to catch up.

I don't think I was actually IN a game of Angband, though. For one thing, it used a slightly different typeface.

Suddenly, I was badly injured and at the edge of the forest. The forest met a lake and some hills, still tree-covered but much less densely. I don't know how I became so badly injured, particularly with my lovely armor. Out of 500 hit points, I had about 50 left.

Having low hit points felt like having a low blood sugar. Everything pitched and yawed and blurred before me. I left the forest and the monsters and sat down on the lake's shore. I checked my pack, but I didn't have anything of Curing or of Healing. I took off my pack and my armor, and the computer readout in my vision faded into nothing. I was alone in the wilderness.

I felt shaky and precariously balanced, and decided to take a nap. Apparently I can even nap while asleep. When I woke up in the dream, I had somehow built a nice hut. It seemed to be made of young trees bent and woven into a circular frame, then covered with wattle and daub. In it I felt very connected to the earth. I still felt hollow in my bones, but I was healing my mysterious injuries. All my stuff was inside the hut, and I felt content to just rest there.

Besides all my adventuring stuff, I had a bedroll and some food, stuff that wasn't in Angband. I still had all the miscellaneous stuff that I had looted and not yet turned to gold, but I didn't quite know what to do with it. I picked up a staff of Lightening Bolt and experimentally zapped a rock by the water's edge. It exploded as it should have, but I felt that it did so begrudgingly. Magic didn't belong here. I don't know whether it was just that part of the forest or if this was a new development.

I stayed inside the hut where it was warm and solid and dark for about a year. I remember at least one of each season, particularly the winter. No fire and no food, but I was still okay. After a while, I felt it was time to leave. I got up, stretched, and left the hut wearing only my leather armor. I left the chain mail and the weapons and most of the stuff there. I didn't want any metal. I took my magic books. I guess I had decided to change classes.

It was a very restful dream.