I had created a RPG, heavily based on a set of (almost magical) playing pieces. You could drop items, such as swords and gold, on your player's piece to pick them up and such. There was also a non-item compass piece, and several other types of pieces. I had just discovered a bug where sometimes, for some reason, you couldn't pick up items.
Once, while beta testing, I had barely managed to defeat a monster and picked up the loot-50 or so "Falcoms" (scimitar-ish sword?), leaving some for my team mates. After this, I decided to move the beta testing of the RPG closer to where I lived, as opposed to out in California, which was on the other side of the continent.
The previous location was on a dry sandy area, with very large crab legs sticking out of the soil. Occasionally it would look, instead, like my bed.
I was planning on hosting further games in a really neato local pizza place, right down the street from my house (oddly enough, there isn't one there IRL), or another local eatery, such as the mexican one.
So, I quickly loaded all the pieces and such into my hands, apprehensive of the crab-legs, which had receded into the ground for the moment, and began my journey. At some point, a rolled up piece of paper appeared around them, and I could hold them much easier. I arrived at my home without any hassle.
Then, people began to complain about the change. They said I was inviting abuse, and that atleast in the previous location (some-powerful-group-here) held some sway over the participants, making them not want to do anything bad.
I began to feel angry-ish, for, although others had evidentially written the core story for the game, I had filled in with many additions which I felt were creative and original.
Posted by Trevor Savage at June 8, 2003 4:15 PM