An Unvocation
I will never love the Wave.
I will never love the mass of ocean water / human beings which, in sufficient roiling profusion, is too glad to become dragon-headed chaos.
I keep thinking of that wave from the Younger Dryas – fast and high beyond belief, submerging almost everything.
It’s weird to live inside that.
But it’s not interesting to write about.
So if I must write about it, the Wave ought be a nine-headed Dragon, not because of any lack in the public, but because even if I were good enough to make something as clumsy as ‘mobs are terrible’ into a piece worth reading, it’s still something everyone knows. If you have to give them a reminder, a lesson, they at least deserve a Dragon.
Tiamat, I’m sorry. You are greater than anything in all of Dungeons and Dragons; you are every terror of all of the sea.
But more than that:
They deserve fewer Lessons.
They don’t deserve to learn.
They deserve to realize that the Wave doesn’t bring something new. It merely destroys what’s there, washing a mile high at the speed of sound; and then every inch of water swirls into every other inch, and is lost.
So mote it be.
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