I’ve seen a lot of videos, blog posts and articles about streaming. When I first started and even now from time to time I will go hunting to devour some advice on areas that I feel my stream needs work. However, some of the most important advice I think is concerning your emotional and mental state. I don’t know any streamer, not a single one, who hasn’t been affected mentally or emotionally by streaming. And I’m not immune either. A few weeks ago I read this amazing post here which describes streaming as a high and I have to agree. Once you reach the highest numbers you’ve ever had, it’s hard to watch them go back down. I remember seeing my viewer count boost after a host and it’s never reached that high before, nor have I ever got that back. Which brings me to my first point:
You’re not a bad streamer. It’s really not you.
Well, sometimes it is you. But most of the time it’s not. You can have the best quality, audio, overlays and shiny things in the world, but if someone’s gotta go pick up their kid from school or leave for work there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s hard to see when all you’re looking at is a number. And this might sound obvious, but each number is a person and each person might not be able to sit around watching twitch all day. It might be 3am where they are or they might have to do their homework. It’s impossible to know unless they tell you, which most of the time they won’t do as a lurker.
Continue reading “Streaming: Look after yourself!”
This review will be VERY SPOILER HEAVY. Read at your own risk!
I don’t remember when I first found out about Lara Croft. Perhaps I have vaguely known about the games ever since they were around. I remember my friends telling me about them and knowing about some badass puzzle action games on the PS1. I had seen the Angelina Jolie films as a teenager and enjoyed them. And I remember for the first time playing it – a reboot on my friend’s dad’s computer. The graphics blew me away, but more than anything the story completely absorbed me. For a few hours I was there – I was at Yamatai and I was the strong and intelligent and brave archaeologist. Every gun shot, every scream, every puzzle, I was there. My pulse racing to continue onwards to unravel the mystery of Himiko.
Continue reading “Tomb Raider (2018) Review SPOILERS AHEAD”
This story will be from the point of view of Faelyne, an apprentice of Nelnardis during the Warband of Imladris days.
“Are you ready to go?”
Nelnardis stood near the water, casting a shadow and blocking out the sun with the end of her bow. The tip of the silver-white wood glinted as she stepped closer, looking down at Faelyne who was filling her waterskin. Her light blonde hair was tightly bound in a braid, cascading down one shoulder. Behind her was her black Rivendell horse, armoured in the green, blue, black and white colours of the Warband.
Continue reading “[Faelyne’s Story] A Hunter’s Apprentice”
Nelnardis tried not to look at the two boys rattling the door of her cell. They kept speaking in Rohirric, seemingly trying to get her attention.
“Maybe she only understands Westron,” one finally said in the common tongue.
Nelnardis glanced at them. They weren’t wearing any armour, so they couldn’t be guards.
“She does speak Westron!” he continued, grinning, “She just looked at me.”
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] Tell Elrohir”
Nelnardis didn’t go back to sleep. She couldn’t. Not while Thendryt was still out there on his own. She stared across the empty fields around the farm where Bovad and rider had disappeared into the distance. He must have known they wouldn’t go after him until dawn. He knew he would have the entire night for his personal errands.
She clenched her fists. How could one man get under her skin so? At first she had thought she was being too harsh in her letter to Elrohir detailing how Thendryt was so secretive there may not be a place for him in Maethelyn. But now she was certain she had been completely reasonable. Elrohir would be sure to understand that.
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] The Swift Arrow”
Eirallyn was eating breakfast when Nelnardis returned from her early morning walk around Mirobel. There was nothing out of the ordinary, though she noted the clear skies and forgotten beauty of the view.
“Good morning, Eira,”
Eirallyn beamed, “Good morning, Nelnardis! They have eggs! And some really good cake things.”
Nelnardis smiled, having enjoyed one or two before she left, “They are delicious.”
Eirallyn peered over her shoulder, “Thendryt! Have you eaten yet?”
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] Wild Horses”
As soon as Nelnardis stirred, she willed herself to her feet and reached for her pack. It was just about dawn, but she searched for a piece of parchment and something to write with. Thendryt was already sitting by the fire when she walked into the main room of the beorning’s house.
She said nothing, making her way straight to one of the tables to begin writing a letter for Elrohir. Every now and then she glanced at Thendryt, as if he knew what she was writing about, as if he could see through the back of his head and read the Sindarin on the page.
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] A Temporary Thorn”
“I would like to reconsider,” she found herself saying to Elrohir.
He glanced up at her from the piece of parchment he was writing on, lowering the quill in his hand. Elrohir sat back in the simple wooden chair, waiting for her to speak.
Nelnardis swallowed. Unable to look at him, she glanced at a spider climbing the broken bricks of Thorenhad. It stumbled over its own legs, clinging to the stone, falling, catching itself in the web. “Forgive me for my sudden departure.” Finally, she drew her eyes back to him.
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] The Choice”
It is only a short ride from the stables to the Gates of Imladris. Nelnardis urges Beren to a canter, listening to the steady rhythm of hooves upon the road, trying to calm herself. However her heart inevitably beats faster as she nears the watchers.
One of them sees her approach and they sigh as Beren slows to a halt. Before Nelnardis can even ask the question the watcher shakes their head. Nothing. She nods, sadly, turning back to the road to the stables.
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] Breathe”
These are some pages of Nelnardis’ Journal before the Warband of Imadris disbanded.
I cannot sleep. It has been four days since Forostel and I parted ways at Thorenhad, and four days since I discovered there was no hope of seeing Ebbephant in Middle-Earth once more. At first a note may seem terrible – insulting, even. However, I can understand now. A note would feel the best way to say farewell.
Continue reading “[Nelnardis’ Journal] Looking Back – Venturing South & A Task”