I was a bit of a lonely, angry kid in my tweens and teens. I had friends and was involved in sports and what not, but I was always trapped inside of myself. Always a little melancholy, always on the edge of explosive anger.
When I went to college, I became even more that. More lonely. More ready to explode. Jumping from emotional state to emotional state with great swings. It primed a very specific kind of pump.
But let me back up a second here to two important related moments...
When I was fifteen, my folks dropped me off at Chicago Comicon in Rosemont. I had read in some magazine, maybe Wizard, that artists had booths there and some would give you pointers on your work. So I went with my binder filled with comics drawn on 11x14 letterhead in pencil and sharpie hoping to find someone to talk to.
Eventually I came across Tim Bradstreet, who was holding court with friends and fans in the way that charismatic creatives sometimes do. I stood at the edge of the crowd, scared and clutching my binder, not sure what to do as he was the only name in the artists alley I recognized.
I think he saw the dismay on my face, but who knows? It has been decades since this moment, but whatever the catalyst, he interrupted court to call me over. I nervously showed him what I had and he was oh so generous with his time. It might have been only ten minutes with me, but in my memory it is an hour.
He earned my undying loyalty in those minutes and I would hunt him down for years at cons to show him my progress and talk. He was always generous and kind and never dismissed my amateur ways. I've tried to emulate him in that regard.
Only a few years later, when I was seventeen, the summer before college, my friends and I made the annual trip to Milwaukee for GenCon. It was only for the day, and only to wander about and maybe snag a game or two.
While meandering the cavernous exhibit hall, our eyes roaming over the various books, we made our way past the Camarilla booth. The folks that ran the organized LARP of Vampire the Masquerade, and a woman working the booth grabbed my arm to stop me to talk.
As you can imagine, I stopped and heard her out. I had never LARPed, but had played games like it. Plus, look... An attractive woman wants to talk to me... Please yes tell me all about your game in Evanston and how it is free and fun and here is my card, you should call me so you can join, we play at my apartment and at the library...
Yeah, I definitely called and played with those folks. Story for another time, but the salient point is my only exposure to White Wolf games at the time I found Werewolf the Apocalypse was through an artist I admired and an attractive woman who asked me to join her game at her apartment... and the library.
So fast forward to lonely, angry me at college. Bereft of meaningful human contact, I do what any kid would do, I go to that oh so welcoming place, the comic book and game store.
As I moved through the weird house that was converted into a labyrinthine storefront, my eyes fell upon the cover of the latest Vampire 'splatbook. It was showcasing Tim's art, but next to it was this unique thing that caught my eye.
That cover grabbed hold of me. The comic just inside was by Tony Diterlizzi, who had at the time had found fame with the Planescape setting for TSR. The pages of the book were filed with these beautifully designed glyphs and the pages were littered with this raw artwork from artists that carried an emotion the Vampire books never managed.
The energy of the entire book compelled me to pull out my checkbook and buy it.
Yes, a check book. My first car also had an 8 track player in it. With $20 I could buy gas, smokes, and several meals at McDonalds back then. Deal with it...
Any road, when I got the book back to my dorm room I devoured it. The underlying conflict between supernatural beings manifesting as a war between werewolves and corporations was compelling as hell. The idea of tribe and birth moon combining to create characters was an exciting idea.
Then there was the Rage mechanics. A currency in play that unlocked possibilities, but had the downside of losing control spoke to me in a very particular way. I hadn't started taking house rules from my games and stringing them into their own thing yet, but this was a big kick in the ass towards that direction.
I mean, don't get me wrong, there is a lot to be desired in the rest of the system. Combat didn't work great. The attempt to tie it to Vampire, both in setting and system structures was a bad idea. And despite all the interesting bits, the game still played out like a Dungeons & Dragons game with the serial numbers filed off.
But man, that rage mechanic was cool. The art was evocative as hell. Unlike a lot of later White Wolf books, the layout was pretty strong. All of it was good enough that I kept trying to play the game with different groups. Kept buying books for it, hunting for a thing that would make it hum.
Kept getting disappointed.
Maybe someday I will write my own version of the game to play. Figure out how to make rage and renown work together correctly. Make combat fast, powerful, and brutal for the poor fool looking to fuck around and find out with ten feet of fur and claws. Maybe figure out what that could look like...
Or maybe not. I'm not that lonely, angry kid anymore. My loneliness and anger has taken on a different character, and I don't know if I can reach that place again.
I guess the only thing I know for sure is that book gave me a lot of joy.
