|Mmm! Smell that mountain air!|
These are places that feel good not just to visit but inhabit. Life could be good here. Life is good here.
|Carry your rabbit? Why certainly, madam!|
It's not Beckett I blame for all this, though. It's Tolkein. He's generally the go-to guy for blame it's true but in this case there's a specific. It's that "journey", isn't it? The little guy starts out in an idealized Edwardian vision of the Cotswolds and ends up in Hell. He marked the trail that we have to follow. Only when Frodo got there he threw the damn ring down the hole and came back. We get to stay on Mount Doom forever.
|My eyes! My eyes!|
|Here should do nicely, once we get rid of these locals|
I'm tired of guiding my characters through fascinating new worlds for hours, days, weeks only to be rewarded with barren landscapes, ugly scenery, harsh colors. The air gets thicker, the horizon closes in and it no longer matters what dyes I used because the light casts everything in a sick, green hue. I came all that way for this?
|Dunno about you, boss, but I feel right at home here!|
Thank the gods for snow, at least. Even a miserable, trammeled snowscape like Carpathian Fangs is nicer to look at than ash and magma or brackish swamp. Seems Frostgorge Sound's my new home for a while. I just wish I could find somewhere warm to sleep.