I just finished my first journaling game after being curious about the genre for quite a few years. It was a fun exercise and really gets the creativity flowing. The game i played was A Visit To San Sibilia by Peter Eijk. The game had realy simple instructions, a card mechanic to throw some curveballs into the narrative and an (optional) dice mechanic to regulate the flow of time. I played through it in just about two hours i think, i did it in two different session (last session started with Day 17).
 |
| Game cover image |
Below is what i wrote for the game. I've resisted editing the text, execpt to fiz few typos, to preserve the flow-of-consciousness feeling of the writing-as-playing exercise. I apologize if that makes it hard to read in places.
A Visit To San Sibilia
Character name: Augustus Guinn
The city changes boxes: [x][x][x][x]
Day1
I have finally arrived in San Sibilia. My steamer arrived upriver early this morning and i took a tram, not too crowded fortunately, into the city center of Saint Riocha. I have walked around for a bit. The temple structures here are amazing. Like nothing I've ever seen. Their architecture appears ancient, yet still very new and completely unknown to me. My hotel is on the outskirts of the Saint Riocha district. A smal hotel, like i prefer, run by an elderly woman and her two sons. My room faces the river and i can see across to the workmen's districts across the flowing waters.
I have unpacked the diary of von Emmingen, but not had the inclination of opening it yet. The old man man's words are what brought me here, but reading his writing is still cumbersome although his genius is uncontested. Hopefully i'll get to reading it in the next day or so. Perhaps i'll be able to find someone in this city who knew him and can she light on his destiny. I arrived here alone, of course, and i'm not very good with people, but my curiosity is peaked by this place of ancient wisdom, art and industry.
Day 6
This morning the broadsheets here in San Sibilia was filled with queer news. It appears that a handful of people have gone missing in the city of the last few weeks, but today they all returned. Together in fact, on a small boat, single mast, with it's prow shaped like a swan. It came down river and landed near one of the old churches in Saint Riocha. A young man working in the church, an acolyte i suppose, discovered them. The people were all alive, two men, three women and one child, and in good health, but curiously they could not explain where they had been nor what had happened to them. At least this is what the paper describes.
Of course, knowing the writings of von Emmingen i immediately contacted the editor of the largest paper by express mail. Informing her that i might know what had happened to these people and informing her that i would happily lend my expertise to help her paper uncover more of the truth. It is not very like me to act in this manner, but easier when accomplished in writing. I just received her reply as i am writing this. Seems that i'll be helping out in the search for the truth about this occurrence. My feelings about it are mixed. One the one hand this could prove the value of my discovery of von Emmingen's writings but one the other i now feel anxious about my stay here in the city. It will not be as tranquil as i first had imagined.
Day 7
How strange this day has been. I met with editor Tuleena Cain and one of her journalists Mr. Diogo at a bookstore near the La Bohamin quarter. I explained both the decriptions and the theory found in von Emmingens work. To which they listened attentively. After i was done Tuleena showed me the bookshop, it was owned by her family in some fashion but the details escape me, and pointed out a well-stocked section on both occult and other mystical matters. She quickly pointed out a few tomes that i'd only read about in von Emmingen. This was a goldmine and especially useful in deciphering more of von Eppingen's thinking. Tuleena laughed, charmingly, at my ethusiasm. I must admit my heart skipped a beat. Her auburn curls about her face and that knowing smile... However i don't have time to fall in love. I really don't. Anyway Tuleena offered me Mr.Diogo's asstistance to doing more research surrounding these phenomena and we worked for most of the day. It was fruitful, a had copious notes on von Emmingens own sources at this point and i began to form a form a theory in my own mind as well about the missing people. There are links here to mystical geography, geomancy if you will ... the occult science of space and bodies within that mystical space.
My hair was on end as i said goodbye to Mr.Diogo and made my way back to my hotel that night. But as i walked i had terrible feeling that something was wrong. The streets i walked seemed new somehow, or at least laid out in a new pattern. I felt my head spin. The city had changed or perhaps it was changing all the time. No matter what i was lost, unable to find my hotel and likewise unable to find my way back to the bookshop.
Day 13
In the end i had to settle into new accommodations. This hostel was neither as cozy or well-kept as my prior hotel, but i felt that trying to chart a shifting city would not be worth my time. I preferred to study the writings of Emmingen in light of my new notes. I was however adamant on contacting Mr.Diogo or Ms Cain, but it seemed nearly impossibly to send an express letter from the hostel. There were no runners around and the hostel keeper was uninterested in rendering any assistance.
In the end however i was successful in send Ms Cain newspaper a message about my new location. Tuleena replied almost at once and told me to wait a day or two, but that she would send Mr.Diogo to see me. This was no problem. I was working hard on the geomantic references in von Emmingen's work. His genius was slowly unravelling before my eyes. It was an exploration unlike any i had undertaken. Inside a great man's mind - the true terra incognita - the minds of another mapped out as geometry. It was brilliant. I had began charting this space on the walls of my room since i was unable to get a blackboard.
Then just before midnight i received word that Mr.Diogo was on his way to see me. He wanted to meet in a nearby alley next to a temple of Saturn. It wasn't far so i left only minutes for before midnight. Outside was cold and the evening was quiet. Except for footfalls echoing among the on the paved narrow streets and adobe buildings. Eerie, but it didn't prepare me for what i saw when i met Mr.Diogo. He looked dishevelled. His clothes disorganized, his face pale and sweaty. He turned to greet me but his eyes were just black holes staring blankly at me. I spoke first and Mr.Diogo didn't have time to utter a word before a gunshot rang out behind me. I saw the bullet enter at his eye and take half his head with it on the way out of his skull. I fainted as i heard the echo of footfalls running. Running away.
Day 17
For four days i've been hiding. My hands are still shaking from that incident in the alley. Mr.Diogo's last seconds burned into my brain like a fever that won't let me go. I no longer eat and i hardly sleep. The footsteps are coming me too, I know it. Someone knows the secret of von Emmingen's work, someone is willing to kill for it. I'm certain.
***
As i write this there is a knock on my door...
***
I have ran away. Into the city. They came for me as i predicted. There were two of them, masked in black cloth masks. I screamed at them as they entered the room. We fought and my right hand is bleeding now. My escape from my executioners are blurry. I feel like i can't breathe.
***
My last effort. I have walked into a temple. I have told the priest everything. He was a old man, nearly bold, thinning hair on the sides. Kind eyes. I told him about von Emmingen's secret. I told him about the connections of the occult mindscape and the city architecture. I begged for him understand me. I know that i'm half mad, but also know that i know the truth of San Sibilia know.
Day 20
I've slept for two days. The priests put me up in the temple. They have been kind to me. Father Litor especially. He has taken care of my notes and been very helpful in organizing my thoughts. Just a litte more work and i'l able to publish something on the theories of von Emmingen. It will shatter the world, but i feel responsible to the people of San Sibilia.
I met with Tuleena aswell. The kind father arranged it. We strolled along the river for over an hour. I explained my thoughs to her, but her demeanor had changed. She was pale and quiet. No enthusiasm. Not like before. She just placed her hand on my arm at the bridge of the sibyl. I wanted to tell her that i had falled in love, but when i met her eyes i could only see darkness. The same darkness as the river water. Like she was a part of this city just like the waters. We passed underneath the bridge. A car, a black car, awaited her on the other side. Two men met her and escorted her to the car. They were smiling. She looked unhappy, but still managed to smile goodbye. I got the feeling i would never see her again. That no one would see her again.
Final entry
I am no longer in San Sibilia. The city is no longer, i think. All that remains is the anxious feeling in the back of my mind. The restlessness of knowing the lies that fuels reality. What von Emmingen found out. His great theory.
I left his diary behind. Father Litor convinced me to. I just kept a cross that he gave me, but i can no longer find it. I must have lost it after coming here. I live in a house in a deep forest now. I'm not alone, but i don't have friends here. It is quiet though. The wind rustling in the trees at night.
I'll never return to the city. I'll never return to a place built on lies and fantasy. I'll prefer to die in the horror of reality. Still i miss it.
