You start off in the Library of your mind, where you choose a piece of clothing from the first chest to determine whether you will play along with the Renaissance Faire or not.
Creating a story mod for Never Winter Nights
When we first began to look at Neverwinter Nights, and the authoring environment provided by Bioware, we were a bit discouraged by the medieval setting that is forced upon developers. At some point we found out that there are packages available on various NWN fansites that allow developers to use a modern setting, but we found them to be generally buggy and tailored to a specific story, such as Shadowrun. So, rather than try to fight with the authoring environment, we decided to use what was given to us, but in a slightly more critical way. In our mod, the character finds himself at the Renaissance Faire, among costumed faire-goers. By starting with this setting, we were not required to write all of the dialogue in some silly dialect if it did not suite the story, and we were free to use elements from modern day. Although, in a way, were still forced into starting with a specific plot line, we liked the Renaissance Faire approach because at least we were using it on our own terms.
As a writer of traditional, non-interactive short-stories, the experience of writing the branching dialogue required for this piece was excruciating. When I sit down to write a story, I am accustomed to thinking of a story in terms of the one best way that any given situation can occur - not the ten or twelve ways that it could occur. And yet, this is exactly what I had to do when writing for this piece. Eventually, after days of fighting against this process, I began to accept it. I started to enjoy exploring the possibility space of our small encounter, and considering many different ways that the event could play out. Although, based solely on the amount of work that was put into this piece (150+ lines of dialogue for a 10 second encounter), I do not think that this branching approach is a good one for large pieces, it was an interesting experience nonetheless.
Suddenly you realize that you are at the Renaissance Faire, waiting in front of an booth labeled "Ye Olde Butchery" to buy an obscenely large birds leg from a pimply-faced teenager with a mouth full of metal and a pin that reads "Have It Thine Way!". In front of you, an oafish fellow with puffy maroon sleeves, matching pants, and a feathered velvet cap offers his hand to a gaunt, elderly woman in a stained off-white wedding dress and Nikes, as if they were about to break into a Riverdance. By the smell of things, either a horse has recently been through the area, or the Duke in front of you is keeping true to medieval hygiene practices.
You watch as the kid behind the counter wraps the small end of one of the shiny, dripping meatsicles in a sheet of wax paper and hands it to the lady. Tasty as it looks, you can't help but imagine yourself as a bearded dwarf, tearing into one of the monstrous legs while sitting at some huge banquet table across from Peter Jackson, discussing the fate of Middle Earth.
"After this, we can go see the beheading, and then at two there's the Queen's procession, and then a jousting tournament!" Your girlfriend is much more excited about this whole experience than you would like her to be, but in a geeky way it is kind of cute, and it was your "spontaneous Saturday activity" after all, so you put up with it. You have managed to hold on to a shred of dignity by refusing to dress up, or otherwise actively take part in any anachronistic activities, but as the afternoon wears on, you wonder how much longer your luck will last. In the distance, some fool in a fools costume bemoans his lot in life in strained Shakespearean dialect beside a pickle monger hawking her wares.
Just as you are about to place your order, you feel a rough, almost violent jab to your shoulder, and turn around to find a knight staring at you. Or, at least, you assume that he is staring at you through the holes in the bucket that is strapped to his head.
"Hey," you say irritably, rubbing your shoulder.
"Good day, sir," the knight shouts from behind his bucket-visor. "Would'st thou refuse a challenge for the hand of this fair maiden?"
With what appears to be great effort, he raises an arm to point at your girlfriend, nearly knocking you in the chin in the process. "For if thou dost refuse, thous surely be'est a cowardly sir."
You take a moment to decode what this knight has just said, but eventually give up. "I don't really understand what you just said," you tell him, trying to remain calm. "But please leave us alone." You turn back around to find your girlfriend still staring at the metal man, and before you can say anything about this, you feel another, sharper jab to the shoulder.
"Sir," the knight demands, drawing a sword-like instrument from an oversized sheath at his side. The "sword" appears to be wrapped in several inches of neon-orange Nerf-like foam, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you idly wonder how many Nerf-dragons he has slayed with it. "I have challenged thee to a knightly duel, and thou must fight to defend the honor of the lady."
The ridiculousness of the situation is overwhelming to you, but a glance over to your girlfriend reveals that she doesn't feel the same. She bounces happily in place, hands clasped together in front of her, beaming with excitement at having been the impetus of this conflict.
"First of all, no one has done anything to question the lady's honor," you say, realizing that you have just referred to your girlfriend as "the lady". Annoyed at having sunken to his level, you take quick a step towards him, causing him to flinch and step back. "And second of all, you are an idiot."
You turn around once more to order your meat, but the knight persists.
"Dost thine mouth write a check that thine ass can't cash?" The knight prods you several times in the back with his "sword" while continuing his taunts. "If thou art so special, where is your squire?" He motions behind him to a pudgy redheaded boy in peasant garb, carrying a huge sack of some sort on his back. Your girlfriend giggles at this, and pulls back as you reach to take her arm.
"Aren't you going to fight for me?" she asks, suddenly looking very serious.
"Are you kidding?" You smile nervously, waiting for her to join in and send this delusional bastard back to the Dungeons and Dragons game from whence he came. "You want me to fight this dude?"
"So I'm not worth fighting for?"
This whole situation has gone from bad to worse despite your efforts to end it, so you decide to try to play along. "Well I would, my lady, but my sword is at the blacksmiths right now."
"A good knight always carries two swords," the knight offers condescendingly. And sure enough, at that moment, a peasant boy behind the knight drops a large pack from his back and pulls out identical neon-orange sword. "Thank you, squire," says the knight, taking the sword from the boy.