Wildlife woes

When I go running, I particularly like to run in the countryside, either on country lanes, or footpaths and bridleways.
I get to see the picturesque landscape, the rabbits, butterflies, sometimes a fox. I hear the birds singing, and sheep in the fields.

Preston Capes

Badby Woods

All very pleasant.

But there are some creatures out there that seem to have other ideas...



Near where I work, some of the local farmers keep bees. Almost any footpath I care to run along has a nearby beehive, with the resultant traffic of bees to and from the hive and plants around about it.

So I've been stung three times now by bees.

Each time it has been on the top of my head, when a bee has been caught in my hair. I have fine fluffy hair, easy for an insect to get tangled in. The second time it happened, I cut my hair really short to try to stop it happening again - it didn't help.
When I get stung on the head, there's nowhere for the venom to go (scalps are thin), so the swelling looks worse. I end up looking sort of like this:

 Or like this:

Now, I wear a bandana when I run, to keep the bees from getting trapped.

As well as bees, I've been stung a few times by a wasp. Just the one, over and over again, on my top lip. That was nasty, but not nearly as bad as the bee stings.


Moving on to vertebrates - but not exactly a wild animal: farm dogs.

There's a good 10 mile route through the countryside around my home, but it goes through a farm. This is a public road, which passes through a farm - its building are on either side of the road.
The farm appears to be run by a trio of dogs: I've never seen any people there. The first time I ran through there was with some mates - the dogs looked at us, but paid little attention.
Just before I ran through on my own, some weeks later, I met some cyclist going the other way, who warned me "There are some excited dogs up ahead."

 

For "excited", read "angry". These three farm dogs were pissed off with their territory being invaded once by whizzing sweaty men, and weren't going to let another sweaty man jog through. They herded me along - and the border collie bit me on the ankle.
(I'm told this is normal - if over-enthusiastic - herding behaviour for sheep dogs: to nip sheep on the ankles.)
Suffice to say, my personal best kilometer pace was set after passing through that farm.

Since then, I've learned that apparently dogs wag their tails differently when they're stressed and when they're happy - to the left when stressed, and to the right when happy.
Dogs know this, and they react with dominant / aggressive behaviour to dogs who appear stressed.
I theorise that being left-handed, when I instinctively wave left-handed to greet dogs - and being naturally nervous of them since I was bitten quite badly on the face by a dog as a child - I am encouraging dogs to be aggressive to me.

These days, I wave right-handed.
I also don't run through that farm.


On to avians - while running round a pond, I saw a lovely sight: some goslings being led along by their parents on the path ahead.
Of course, although I tried to give them plenty of room and go around, the parents had decided I was going to eat their offspring, and gave chase. Geese are quite big and scary when they're angry.

Worse than an angry goose waddling after me, was the buzzard attack this week.
Running along a normal stretch of road through a woodland, there was whoosh of something passing fast just above my head - a buzzard. As I ran on, I watched it fly over the road and into the trees on the other side, assuming I'd just been on its flight path by coincidence.
A few seconds later - BAM! I felt like someone had smacked me round the top of the head - a good cuffing blow that knocked my head forward and made me stagger. As I looked up and around to what had hit me, I saw my bandana flying to the ground on the verge in front of me, and the damn buzzard swooping up into the branches over my head.

A buzzard yesterday

It perched there, and keened at me: "Peeaw! Peeaw!" - I grabbed my hat and ran on, covering my head with my arms and muttering "All right, I'm going, I'm going!"
When I got back to work, one of my colleagues told me I was bleeding. Not too badly, on examination - as though I'd been badly scratched by a cat. The cuts didn't hurt so much as the impact. Still, I washed the cuts with alcohol from the solvents cupboard, to avoid bird flu or whatever nasties were on the hawk's talons.

As the attack had happened during my lunch break, I had to fill in the accident book and report it to the health and safety manager. "Wear a hat," he suggested.

I suspect the buzzard is nesting, or otherwise considers that patch of woods to its territory, and really just wanted me gone.
Suffice to say, that route is struck off my list of runs, too.

Incidently, when I was looking online for a picture of a British buzzard, it appears that my attack isn't especially uncommon:

Notice the first picture, top left...

Running is a great way to get out and about and see the countryside and wildlife. I just worry that the wildlife doesn't want to see me.
It'll be badger attacks, next...

Monsters - what are they for?

Monsters of one sort or another are a staple of adventure stories and role-playing games - from Tolkien's orcs and Heinlein's arachnids, to Sauron or the Joker, our heroes need adversaries.

So what are monsters for?
In this post, I'll look at monsters purpose in the story, and in the game.

Aside: Is story important in adventure games? 

Yes - we tell stories in our role-playing games, sometimes even despite ourselves.
Even in the war-game roots of the beginning of RPGs, the idea that a scenario is mutable by the actions of the players inevitably provided a story - at least an anecdote - that we could tell after the game.
Whether we set out to or not, those player characters grow and develop, and the bad guys become more cunning.
I've tried to run purely episodic games for club venues, where the players come and go - but the adventures naturally flow into each other. Players look for connections and stories. It's actually hard not to end up with some continuity between games.
A story is part of making a believable frame for the adventure - your characters could just beat up everyone, but despite how awesome that sounds at first, it ends up being a bit empty.

So if we're resigned to telling stories, what is the point of the monster in the story?

Firstly, let me clear up what I mean by "monsters".
I expand the definition of monster to include all belligerent adversaries - it's a gaming term: "monsters" are what heroes fight. So monsters include Stormtroopers and Darth Vader, orcs and Nazgul, and so on.

Already we can see that we've got more than one type of monster role: Vader is in a different league to mere orcs. Also it's fair to say that Stormtroopers and orcs may fill similar roles, but they are of different types.
I can identify three major roles for monsters, and four major types:

• Roles: mooks, lieutenant, Big Bad Evil Guy/Gal (BBEG)
• Mooks - the TV Tropes link there explains the role of the mook very well, but to quickly summarise: these low level cannon-fodder are there solely chasing and driving the heroes on, and letting the heroes swashbuckle. Without mooks, your action adventure has less in the way of adversarial action.
• Lieutenant - or "The Dragon" in that TV Tropes link. This adversary is the arch-enemy's main muscle, the force he sends to attack the heroes. The lieutenant often leads mooks, and is rarely fought directly, except as a climactic fight
• BBEG - the cause of the evil plot. This villain is a smart, resourceful adversary, but often physically weak - the archetypal wizard. It is usually their scheming that makes them an adversary, not their combat actions.

• Types: horror, criminal, totalitarian, natural
• Horror - these monsters are unthinkable, driven by unknown or mad desires - especially when those motives, once revealed, are frightening or transgressive. The eponymous Aliens, the Thing, Romero's cannibal undead, vampires (when they're not being sparkly or emo) - these are all monsters of the horror type.
• Criminal - this type not only includes the expected bandits, burglars and buccaneers from that link, but also adversaries out for personal gain (or for their clan or gang), with amoral attitudes and a lust for power or wealth - including corrupt clergy, power-hungry politicians and the like. One of the more human monster types, and thus one of the most varied types.
• Totalitarian - the monster wishes to enforce its views, rules, or way of life on everyone, or destroy them in the attempt.Unorthodox behaviour will be crushed. Minorities will be swept aside. You will be assimilated. Includes the Machines in the Matrix and Terminator, the Empire in Star Wars, and various real-life regimes.
• Natural - no link for this one: it's a broad category, which includes many aspects of normal behaviours... just the kind of normal behaviours that puts a creature at odds with heroes. The monster becomes an adversary out of instinct or natural reasons. Think of ignorant mooks led by BBEG's propaganda, a shark feeding on tourists, or natives reacting to invasion or settlement of their homeland. These monsters may even be sympathetic adversaries in more enlightened stories - players may wish to at least try to defuse the conflict without violence.

Why do you need to know this?

Knowing your monster's niche tells you how it should behave, and what it does for the story. It's the first step in playing the role of that monster.

A criminal mook is clearly different from a horror mook, although they may serve similar roles in terms of action in the game - both line up to obligingly die at the heroes' hands. A horror lieutenant is different from the horror BBEG - spoilers here: Kiefer Sutherland is not the BBEG of The Lost Boys! The big reveal is that he's just lieutenant to the Head Vampire (who would have got away with it too if it wasn't for those meddling heroes).

So assigning the roles to your adversaries creates the beginning and hints of a story for you, too. Someone is usually in charge of those mooks - who is it...?

Before you know it you've got enough bones to hang a plot on.