Krondor Confidential - Part XIV

Another Meeting With the Master of Magician

As the story and the new design features for Thief of Dreams began to pull together, it was hard not to be optimistic. Betrayal at Krondor had been well received, and physically I was feeling much better than I had in months. I’d begun to spend more time with friends outside the office...and with one person in particular who I was hoping might become something more than that. I took time off to go back home to Oklahoma to check on my father who’d been diagnosed and treated for cancer while we were in crunch (though I wouldn’t know the severity of his case until years later). On the road back to Oregon I’d accidentally discover the Dinosaur National Monument near Vernal, Utah where I’d not only get to glory in my lifelong love of dinosaurs, but I’d also develop a new fascination for petroglyphs that lingers with me to this day. And between there and Eugene, I’d pull over somewhere on a deserted two-lane road in northwestern Nevada to answer a call of nature only be awestruck by the most amazing, non-light-polluted view of the Milky Way I’ve ever seen. 

THEM BONES, THEM BONES, THEM DINO BONES - Me being a very happy dinophile in the Dinosaur National Monument just outside of Vernal, Utah in the summer of 1993. The park was hopping since Jurassic Park had debuted just two weeks before Betrayal at Krondor’s debut.

Back at Dynamix, the team was hard at work transitioning from Betrayal to Thief. Nels Bruckner, Steve Cordon, and Timothy Strelchun were working on optimizing the engine and creating new tools. Two temporary BAK team members, Chris Medinger and Joseph Muennich, were both being promoted up from QA to start helping with map designs so that Tim McClure could concentrate on gathering feedback from Compuserve and Genie, and so that John and I could focus on the development of new features. Our little development family was growing quickly, but one change in the staff would lead to a dramatically new feeling for the project, specifically for me.

Tensions between our Art Director Mike McHugh and the rest of the team had steadily deteriorated during the production of BAK until it reached the point where we rarely saw or heard from him. At last, a decision was made -- either by Mike or by the executives at Dynamix -- that the time had come for him to part ways with us, and for our team to get a fresh start with a new art director. Luckily for us, the guy we needed was already at Dynamix and was more than happy to step into Mike’s now vacant spot.

Shawn Sharp was an ideal choice for the job. He was an avid role-player, so there was no learning curve in regard to how RPGs worked. He was also conversant in fantasy literature and its conventions, so that was a big bonus as well. For me personally, however, his biggest asset was that he and I were very simpatico in terms of what we liked and what we envisioned for the game, and it was clear from the beginning that John and I would have a much easier time collaborating with him than we’d had with Mike. It was a huge relief. This time around the Lead Designer, the Lead Writer, and the Lead Artist would all be pulling in the same direction which meant that we wouldn’t end up with bearded moredhel or other “artistic” aberrations which were at odds with established Midkemian canon. As it would turn out, I’d also be making a new life-long friend with whom I’d work on several other projects over the years.

SHARP DRESSED MAN - Shawn Sharp and I reunite at an E3 several years later following our first team up at Dynamix.

One of the major objectives with the Thief of Dreams, beyond making it an even larger, more interactive world, was to dramatically boost our production values. Krondor had broken major ground by placing players into a 3-D environment but had done so at the cost of creating a world that wasn’t always as visually stunning as it could be. Although there were limitations with what we could do in 3Space, we had ambitions of making the non-3D elements more arresting, and that meant spending a lot more time in the planning and production of each Chapter’s cinematics. 

With BAK, the storyboard creation process had been very different. John and I would usually rough out the basics for each scene together, and then we’d work with Mike on the most visually interesting way to convey the story. With TOD, however, John was increasingly busy negotiating with upper management, and had a lot of trust that Shawn and I could handle things on our own. In retrospect I realize that he was working on passing the baton to me, preparing me for the day I might be running the franchise alone as he led other projects. He’d been grooming me to be a solo lead designer all through the creation of BAK, but this was the first time that a significant chunk of the design management was being left for me to handle. Although I missed having John in the process, I’d found a wonderful new collaborator in Shawn. He was fast and insanely talented. No sooner than I described certain scenes, they appeared on his sketchpad in almost exactly in the way I had them in my head, or in ways vastly better than I’d imagined. Our sessions of working together were inspirational, and hilarious, and eye-opening, and often went on for hours of the afternoon. They were easily some of my happiest times working on Thief. 

Once Upon A Time - The first frame from Shawn’s sketchbook showing an early logo-treatment for Thief of Dreams.

By August of 1993 the story overview for Thief was for the most part complete, and I was anxious to meet with Ray Feist once again to talk over fine details. Ray was similarly keen because after the success of Betrayal, he could see what we’d accomplished, and wanted to be able to contribute even more to the sequel. Finding a time when we could schedule a meeting, however, was no simple matter. With his newest Riftwar book, The King’s Buccaneer, set to be released in October, his schedule was filling up with events. After learning that he’d be traveling to San Francisco in September for the 51st World Science Fiction Convention, I hatched a cunning plan. I’d never in my life attended a WorldCon, and wanted to see what one was like. I also reasoned that I could probably find an hour or two that I could sit down with Ray and chat face to face, plus we potentially could even arrange some joint publicity for BAK which was still a relatively new title on store shelves. I pitched the idea to management, and they loved it. Before I knew it, I had a plane ticket and hotel reservations in San Francisco. Now all I had to do was pull together the courage to get on the plane. 

There was no small irony in the fact that I’d be flying back into the city which had been the cause of my developing a fear of flying in the first place. I hadn’t set foot in a flying death tube in over a year, and it was only after I had my ticket that it sank in with me what I’d signed up to do. It would be the first time that I’d experience the crippling nightmares and nausea prior to boarding an airplane. The day of the flight I almost wasn’t able to make myself get up to go, but at least I’d arranged for Chris Medinger to take me, so I had someone to prod me along. Walking up the gangway, I was sure I was walking into a cattle chute, and that certain death awaited on the other end.

Somehow, after miraculously not plunging into the ground and catching on fire, I ended up in the wonderful city of San Francisco with whom I was already in love. During my three years of living in Eugene, I’d driven down several times to visit my best friend and New World Computing-era roommate, Ron Bolinger. He’d shown me so many places that I’d come to love including Chinatown and Union Square and City Lights Books. Heading through the Tenderloin district in a cab, I smiled at all the familiar sights like old friends, quickly forgetting about the certain death from which I’d been divinely spared. 

My digs for the con was a dumpy little place off of Union Square called the Nikko Hotel...if five-star hotels can be considered dumpy. Unquestionably built for Japanese tourists, it likely offers a wonderful experience for short people who understand Japanese customs. For me, it was two nights with my feet and ankles hanging off the bed and nearly scalding myself to death in the shower because the hot and cold knobs were reversed. And even when I managed not to burn myself, the shower would just shut off the water flow after five minutes for no reasons I could comprehend. With all this said, the staff were all very polite, though somewhat wary to have 6′3″ me walking around among them like some Okie mountain troll.

The convention itself was only a few minutes’ walk away, and my first experience of the Moscone Center. The dealer’s room was huge, and I’d not see its equal until hitting the San Diego Comic-Con in 1997. I roamed panels and gawked at the amazing costumes. I went looking for the toastmaster, Guy Gavriel Kay -- of whom I was a tremendous fan -- but I could never seem to find him. It was a gloriously fun day. 

At dinner time of my second day, I sat down with Ray at the hotel bar, and we walked meticulously through the summary that I’d sent him. Our conversation was much the same as it had been through all of BAK’s development. He’d ask why I’d done certain things, and he’d point out why those things were stupid or poorly developed. He’d explain back history on some of the gods of the world that I wouldn’t have any other way to know about and fill me in on some of things he’d had in the back of his mind while he’d been developing the novels. It was a great private two-hour conversation with one of the most successful fantasy authors of the modern era, and something for which I’m still grateful to this day. At the end of it, he handed me his own copy of the summary with his notes on it so I could take them back to archive. As we signed the check for the dinner, he gave me a small smile and one of the biggest compliments I’ve ever received. “This is a great story Neal, and if you guys don’t do it as a game, I’m writing it as a book.”

I had no idea at the time that he was proclaiming prophesy. 

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