I feel naked. Stripping off the layers of secrecy that surround a campaign is like pulling back the curtain in OZ. Gone is the great and powerful wizard, the architect of civilizations. Meet the armless, legless man with a crayon in his mouth.
Ravenshadow daunts me. It’s my favorite campaign, the one I’m proudest of. But it was also an exercise in panic, doubt and utter terror.
I’ve heard that an author is a world trapped in a person. Poetic, but I think it’s incorrect. An author is a person trapped in their world. The best we can do is try and make it a good one.