Why the Shudder Mountains?

Because these are our mountains. . .

I grew up in many worlds, but two of them matter here. In my teens (before I had car keys in my pocket), I spent long afternoons with friends exploring the worlds of our imaginations. The game was Dungeons & Dragons, before they started numbering the versions. It was an unpolished but efficient game illustrated with simple pen and ink drawings. It was more than enough to stir young minds yearning for far off fantastical lands to explore.

That world absorbed us, but its roots were the myths and stylized histories of European lands--medieval castles, fire-breathing dragons, plate mail, and swords. These were places far away from the northwestern exurbs of Washington, D.C. Excellent places to hide from teen angst, but they weren't our places. The encounters were fascinating because they were strange and unknown.

Our real world was in the shadow of the Appalachian Mountains. Scout hikes on the Trail, camping in Big Meadows, riding along dirt roads with bare feet sticking out the windows. Later, I spent four of my best years in Blacksburg, Virginia. These were familiar places where we did mundane things: school, work, eat, sleep. No dragons here.

Then there was the Blair Witch Project. Suddenly our hometown wasn't safe. The Sykesville Monster spotted repeatedly in the Maryland wilderness. A grainy photo of a unicorn in the local paper. Friends talking about the lights that flew down from the sky at night leaving scorch marks on the roof of their father's car. The Snallygaster on our own South Mountain.

Since then I've hiked hundreds of miles on the Appalachian Trail through the rocky hills of Pennsylvania, across Maryland multiple times, and through the Shenandoah and the National Forests in the Blue Ridge in Virginia. I've spent quiet nights on South Mountain.

Now I know that dragons aren't scary. Wake up and the dream is over. But, when you encounter a goat-headed man, or an animated scarecrow, or unnatural lights floating over the bog when you are adventuring in familiar towns and valleys, you know them in your bones. They don't go away when you put your dice back in the bag; they follow you home and peer in your window at night. They are imaginary, but tangible.

So, when I found The Chained Coffin in my FLGS, I could tell it would resonate for me because the world of the Shudder Mountains was not far from my world. I already knew some of the spirits that roamed the ancient mountains by name. We've had fun with the game, and for me it was natural to put pen to paper to sketch out O, Death!, play test it, and now publish it.

Whether these mountains are part of your experiences, I hope you will find a home here. Get comfortable. Soon the familiar will be strange again, and the mountains will be yours as well.