Emoting
On reflection it seems to me that what we did was something like directed role play PLUS using Second Life to facilitate a form of creative writing. But that is just a personal comment. Here is the report.
Gwen, using the group function, distributed the following notecards a couple of times until we had all got a set.
 |
| Gathered in the garden of the Irish pub before the beginning of the session on "emoting" |
 |
| I landed and remained in the sky. Design or a technical blip? |
Notecard 1
Fill in the information below about your character:
Name and Nicknames if any: ((What is your Characters Name in Artstonia. What would be the name a villager would call you, if they knew you. Also do you have any secret names or identities we should know about?))
Avatars name: (If different then your characters name, this is your SecondLife Name)
Age: (Character's Age = Age here should align to the age of your race, and the maturity level of your character. Be sure to research elves, dwarves, etc... if you are choosing a non-human being.)
Race: (Be as specific as you can here- example if you are an Elf, what type of Elf are you? A Moon Elf? A Drow? )
Alignment: (Are you Good, Evil, or Neutral? Are you Lawful, Chaotic, or Neutral?)
Class: (Again be as specific as possible- Example if you are a Magic-User what kind are you? A Druid? A Wizard? A Mage?)
What is your history? (Characters Back Story)
What powers do you have (i.e. merits) (Characters special abilities)
What are your flaws? (Characters weaknesses)
Any other important details? (Character's Likes and Dislikes)
Notecard 2
Welcome everyone to our little tavern in Little woods!
Now, you must be sitting at one of our tables and reading our scroll.
Role play background
The Little Tavern , is a busy little tavern in a village called Little Woods. There, you will find all kind of characters strolling around. Some are the cook, and his helpers. Some thieves that love causing mischief. A bard will sing for coins from his or her audience or tell a poem. A villain will come and poison some of us. Beware of evil food. It will cause you pain and sickness. Fortunately, we have some healers in the village who will come and save us all. Healing is their magic. They are angels in disguise. But, we'll have to go on a little hunt to help healers find a cure for the poor of us tat will be sick.
1. introduce yourself to the role players sitting at your table.
2. Select one of the roles and have some fun role playing it. Talk to your partners in role playing and decide which one will play each role. (just click on the notecard to open it.
3. at the end of the role play. Copy and paste your conversation in a notecard and post some comments in our blogs, or facebook group.
4. Take some photos and post them to your secondlife profile or save them to your disk. Share them using #slang12 or post your comments here: http://avalon-project.ning.com/events/roleplaying-cooking-in-a-tavern
5. Happy role playing!
Pionia Destiny
Dr. Doris Molero
Role play scenarios
---------------------
You have been poisoned
A stranger came up to you during your meal and offered you some flavoring to add to your food that he assured you would make the food much tastier(Raw Nutmeg). He was correct, the food was much tastier and you ate a goodly quantity but shortly after eating your meal you began to feel a bit strange.
1. You cannot remember anything about the stranger,
2. you have a headache, you feel a bit sick to your stomach, you are dizzy and your eyes are bloodshot.
A cook helper
You are a cook learner at the tavern.
1. Help cook find the ingredients he or she needs to cook.
2. Ask a lot of questions. You are not sure you know what the cook needs and where is it.
You are a cook learner at the tavern.
1. Help cook find the ingredients he or she needs to cook.
2. Ask a lot of questions. You are not sure you know what the cook needs and where is it.
Merchant
You are a merchant who is in the village to buy some supplies. Ask for advice from the villagers in the tavern. Ask Where to find goods at a fair price.
spices, grains, fruits,
Thief
Yo are a thief in disguise. Pretend you are in the tavern for some wine. Try to steal some coins from the people in the tavern.
Moody traveler
You are a traveler from far lands. You are really hungry and thirsty.
1. Order some food and something to drink.
2. You are in a bad mood today.A bard
You are a bard and like to tell stories and poems.
1. Introduce yourself to the audience.
2. read one of the following poems
3. Ask for some coins
You are a thief in disguise. Pretend you are in the tavern for some wine. Try to steal some coins from the people in the tavern.
A bard
You are a bard and like to tell stories and poems.
1. Introduce yourself to the audience.
2. read one of the following poems
3. Ask for some coins
All Things Bright and Beautiful
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,—
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,—
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.
The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high or lowly,
And ordered their estate.
The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The morning, and the sunset
That lighteth up the sky,
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,—
He made them, every one.
The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water
We gather every day,—
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who hath made all things well.
Cecil Frances Alexander.
Brier-Rose
Said Brier-Rose's mother to the naughty Brier-Rose:
"What will become of you, my child, the Lord Almighty knows.
You will not scrub the kettles, and you will not touch the broom;
You never sit a minute still at spinning-wheel or loom."
Thus grumbled in the morning, and grumbled late at eve,
The good-wife as she bustled with pot and tray and sieve;
But Brier-Rose, she laughed and she cocked her dainty head:
"Why, I shall marry, mother dear," full merrily she said.
"You marry; saucy Brier-Rose! The man, he is not found
To marry such a worthless wench, these seven leagues around."
But Brier-Rose, she laughed and she trilled a merry lay:
"Perhaps he'll come, my mother dear, from eight leagues away."
The good-wife with a "humph" and a sigh forsook the battle,
And flung her pots and pails about with much vindictive rattle;
"O Lord, what sin did I commit in youthful days, and wild,
That thou hast punished me in age with such a wayward child?"
Up stole the girl on tiptoe, so that none her step could hear,
And laughing pressed an airy kiss behind the good-wife's ear.
And she, as e'er relenting, sighed: "Oh, Heaven only knows
Whatever will become of you, my naughty Brier-Rose!"
The sun was high and summer sounds were teeming in the air;
The clank of scythes, the cricket's whir, and swelling woodnotes rare,
From fields and copse and meadow; and through the open door
Sweet, fragrant whiffs of new-mown hay the idle breezes bore.
Then Brier-Rose grew pensive, like a bird of thoughtful mien,
Whose little life has problems among the branches green.
She heard the river brawling where the tide was swift and strong,
She heard the summer singing its strange, alluring song.
And out she skipped the meadows o'er and gazed into the sky;
Her heart o'erbrimmed with gladness, she scarce herself knew why,
And to a merry tune she hummed, "Oh, Heaven only knows
Whatever will become of the naughty Brier-Rose!"
Whene'er a thrifty matron this idle maid espied,
She shook her head in warning, and scarce her wrath could hide;
For girls were made for housewives, for spinning-wheel and loom,
And not to drink the sunshine and wild flower's sweet perfume.
And oft the maidens cried, when the Brier-Rose went by,
"You cannot knit a stocking, and you cannot make a pie."
But Brier-Rose, as was her wont, she cocked her curly head:
"But I can sing a pretty song," full merrily she said.
And oft the young lads shouted, when they saw the maid at play:
"Ho, good-for-nothing Brier-Rose, how do you do to-day?"
Then she shook her tiny fist; to her cheeks the color flew:
"However much you coax me, I'll never dance with you."
Thus flew the years light winged over Brier-Rose's head,
Till she was twenty summers old and yet remained unwed.
And all the parish wondered: "The Lord Almighty knows
Whatever will become of that naughty Brier-Rose!"
And while they wondered came the spring a-dancing o'er the hills;
Her breath was warmer than of yore, and all the mountain rills,
With their tinkling and their rippling and their rushing, filled the air,
And the misty sounds of water forth-welling everywhere.
And in the valley's depth, like a lusty beast of prey,
The river leaped and roared aloud and tossed its mane of spray;
Then hushed again its voice to a softly plashing croon,
As dark it rolled beneath the sun and white beneath the moon.
It was a merry sight to see the lumber as it whirled
Adown the tawny eddies that hissed and seethed and swirled,
Now shooting through the rapids and, with a reeling swing,
Into the foam-crests diving like an animated thing.
But in the narrows of the rocks, where o'er a steep incline
The waters plunged, and wreathed in foam the dark boughs of the pine,
The lads kept watch with shout and song, and sent each straggling beam
A-spinning down the rapids, lest it should lock the stream.
And yet—methinks I hear it now—wild voices in the night,
A rush of feet, a dog's harsh bark, a torch's flaring light,
And wandering gusts of dampness, and round us far and nigh,
A throbbing boom of water like a pulse-beat in the sky.
The dawn just pierced the pallid east with spears of gold and red.
As we, with boat-hooks in our hands, toward the narrows sped.
And terror smote us; for we heard the mighty tree-tops sway,
And thunder, as of chariots, and hissing showers of spray.
"Now, lads," the sheriff shouted, "you are strong, like Norway's rock:
A hundred crowns I give to him who breaks the lumber lock!
For if another hour go by, the angry waters' spoil
Our homes will be, and fields, and our weary years of toil."
We looked each at the other; each hoped his neighbor would
Brave death and danger for his home, as valiant Norsemen should.
But at our feet the brawling tide expanded like a lake,
And whirling beams came shooting on, and made the firm rock quake.
"Two hundred crowns!" the sheriff cried, and breathless stood the crowd.
"Two hundred crowns, my bonny lads!" in anxious tones and loud.
But not a man came forward, and no one spoke or stirred,
And nothing save the thunder of the cataract was heard.
But as with trembling hands and with fainting hearts we stood,
We spied a little curly head emerging from the wood.
We heard a little snatch of a merry little song,
And saw the dainty Brier-Rose come dancing through the throng.
An angry murmur rose from the people round about.
"Fling her into the river," we heard the matrons shout;
"Chase her away, the silly thing; for God himself scarce knows
Why ever he created that worthless Brier-Rose."
Sweet Brier-Rose, she heard their cries; a little pensive smile
Across her fair face flitted that might a stone beguile;
And then she gave her pretty head a roguish little cock:
"Hand me a boat-hook, lads," she said; "I think I'll break the lock."
Derisive shouts of laughter broke from throats of young and old:
"Ho! good-for-nothing Brier-Rose, your tongue was ever bold."
And, mockingly, a boat-hook into her hands was flung,
When, lo! into the river's midst with daring leaps she sprung!
We saw her dimly through a mist of dense and blinding spray;
From beam to beam she skipped, like a water-sprite at play.
And now and then faint gleams we caught of color through the mist:
A crimson waist, a golden head, a little dainty wrist.
In terror pressed the people to the margin of the hill,
A hundred breaths were bated, a hundred hearts stood still.
For, hark! from out the rapids came a strange and creaking sound,
And then a crash of thunder which shook the very ground.
The waters hurled the lumber mass down o'er the rocky steep.
We heard a muffled rumbling and a rolling in the deep;
We saw a tiny form which the torrent swiftly bore
And flung into the wild abyss, where it was seen no more.
Ah, little naughty Brier-Rose, thou couldst not weave nor spin;
Yet thou couldst do a nobler deed than all thy mocking kin;
For thou hadst courage e'en to die, and by thy death to save
A thousand farms and lives from the fury of the wave.
And yet the adage lives, in the valley of thy birth,
When wayward children spend their days in heedless play and mirth,
Oft mothers say, half smiling, half sighing, "Heaven knows
Whatever will become of the naughty Brier-Rose!"
Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen.
Searching
As I started searching for the notecards in my inventory this morning I was reminded that there are some useful filters that enable one to narrow down any search and stand a better chance of finding what one is looking for.
 |
| Click on the indicated cog |
 |
| Search options visible with cog open, indicated by red arrow |
 |
| Notice particularly you can make searches for items giving number of hours or/days in the past when the search is to begin. |
No comments:
Post a Comment