The brave solider poses with his gorgeous wife before heading off to war
Short of the amazing props made by people like the HP Lovecraft Historical Society and the contributors to the fabulous Propnomicon blog, old photographs are among the best tools to add an air of verisimilitude to role-playing games set sometime during the last century or so.
However, not everyone has a family history full of explorers, gunfighters and soldiers and this is where those rare photographic studios that offer 'olde time' pictures come in handy.
With a range of period props and costumes, you can create a slice of history - in sepia - that your family never knew it had... and then use the pictures as the basis for role-playing characters!
Timmy The Flea
Whenever I come across one of these studios, I like to take the opportunity to get dressed up and pose for an old time picture. Not only do these make for interesting 'conversation' pieces when displayed around the home (I'm beginning to sound like an advert!), but they are unique role-playing props.
It's not cheap (the last one Rachel and I had done cost £32 at the National History Museum of Walesaround 20 years ago), but then again you don't find these specialist studios in every High Street or on street corners.
We're not talking about those online apps where your head gets badly Photoshopped into a fake film poster; this is the full works, as you can see from my examples above, and each one conjures up a string of stories and possible scenarios.
And I know these days you can do this via AI, but that can be very hit and miss - as well as being ethically dubious.
There used to be a photographic studio in the Trocadero Centre in London, which was stocked with Wild West and gangster costumes (Pete has a picture of him and some friends as 1920's Chicago gangsters in his stairwell), but that closed many years ago.
If you happen to stumble upon one of these places, and are looking for that special prop for your role-playing game, an 'old time' picture is a worthy investment of cash (obviously it doubles as an actual souvenir as well!)... and who doesn't like dressing up every now and again?
Andrew 'Gublin' Patterson with Matt at Adrian's wedding about 35 years ago
As I reflect on the early days of my gaming life in the occasional Throwback Thursday piece, the name Gublin will pop up every so often.
I guess my old Pembury pal Andrew "Gublin" Patterson represents all the people I played RPGs in my youth that I no longer have any contact with.
When I was at Pembury Primary School I - and another kid - won a scholarship to the prestigious Tonbridge School(the local equivalent of Hogwarts), although first we would have to attend prep school.
It turned out that this 'other kid' was Andy and he lived five doors down the road from me and was born a week before me.
Although we both went to different prep schools, Andy (who acquired the nickname Gublin at Holmewood House Schoolbecause of his alleged similarity to the puppet creatures of that name!) and I became fast friends and soon developed a mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons.
We used to play epic games of D&D, almost all centring around his character, Egghead Aramioc, and mine, Staghind Starlight, and all pretty much of the "kick down door, kill monster, take treasure" school of hack'n'slash.
Deep characterisation was not our thing - although I do remember a particularly heated in-character argument about Staghind's plans to change her hairstyle! A misunderstanding had led Egghead to think she was going for the Princess Leia-style buns on the side of the head ... when she just wanted pigtails!
To be fair, we did take the games out of the dungeon, exploring (and conquering) whole worlds on massive sheets of paper that were like rolls of wallpaper spread across the floor of his parents' house.
But Egghead and Staghind eventually grew apart and began to adventure with other people...
After prep school, we both went to Skinners' in Tunbridge Wells - instead of Tonbridge School - and soon met Matt and Nick and became a 'gang of four'.
Eventually, especially when he went off to university, we drifted apart - as young friends do - because he was of the more "work hard, play hard" ethos and I was just plain lazy.
He also tried to shake the 'Gublin' nickname and return to the more 'mature' Andy... which, of course, we ignored.
Time moved on and the last we saw of Gublin was about 35 years ago. It was Matt and Nick's brother Adrian's wedding reception and Andy announced that he was going next door to check out the other reception going on in the hotel!
Over the years I heard tales from my parents - who met his mum in the village occasionally - that he got married, had a kid, worked for a big City bank, had given it all up, bought a yacht and sailed round the world.
I seem to remember, although it's all a bit of a blur these days, that he sent me a get well card when I was in hospital, but I haven't heard anything since dad passed away. Mum moved out of Pembury and so didn't see Andy's mum anymore.
Gublin is just one of many gamers who have come and gone out of my life; for instance, whatever happened to Tom Edwards, who introduced me to the Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy radio series and then ran a wild D&D game based on it? Or Guy Huckle and his coterie of gaming buddies that I befriended at Skinners?
"This is turning into an obsession now, isn't it?" joked my old pal Nick when I shared my purchase of the (controversial) new autobiography of former Lioness goalkeeper Mary Earps, signed by the legend herself.
Nick was referring to the recent surge in my fandom for women's football (which has resulted in Rachel telling her friends - with tongue-in-cheek - that she has become a "football widow").
The thing is, I'm never really been a football guy. I'm not even a sport guy. I'll watch baseball when I can (I'm British though, so it's a rare treat when a game comes on that's available for me) and, for some reason, I absolutely love international football, especially when England are playing.
I guess it's like my passion for the Olympics, I enjoy seeing athletes at the peak of their game - competing on a broader arena than just the weekly slog of domestic league tournaments.
I simply had no interest in the sport at club level.
It’s not as if I haven't tried.
As a youngster I read football magazines and comics (I was a big Roy of The Rovers fan and even converted one of my Subbuteo teams to his Melchester Rovers).
When I was working Matt and Nick would take me to the occasional Plymouth Argyle (their team) match and once I went to uni I even attended a couple of Bournemouth matches on my own, as my first residence was just round the corner from their ground.
I even used to watch Fantasy Football League with David Baddiel and Frank Skinner, but I suspect this was more for the fact that the hosts were two of my all-time favourite comedians than the subject matter.
But none of this actual football made any lasting impact on me.
That is, except when it comes to the national squad playing in a major tournament - the men's or the women's teams - and I find myself invariably glued to the TV.
For those couple of hours I'm a veritable football pundit.
This was taken in Rachel's old flat about 20 years ago!
I'm not even sure how (or why) I acquired an official England Umbro top in the first place, but I now dutifully wear it whenever it feels appropriate to throw my weight behind our country.
However, one of the 'problems' I've always had generating any enthusiasm for watching team sports is, even pre-brain damage, I have no capacity for retaining the details of what I've just watched.
Give me a superhero movie and I can tell you the minutiae of the plot a year later, but the moment I step away from a sport's match, either on TV or at a sports ground, I couldn't even tell you what the final score was... let alone who scored, or any fancy passing combinations.
That was always Matt and Nick's ability: they could regale you with trivia from football matches several decades or more earlier, with encyclopaedic accuracy.
I have to say I always envied them that. Not the specific facts that they were recounting, but simply their ability to know with such confidence the details of an event from such a long time ago.
However, now, in the wake of the women's second, back-to-back, victory at the Euros, and the increasing coverage of women's football my interest has skyrocketed.
My treasured Euros prize!
Strangely coinciding with my recent decline in physical health (which has also contributed to a rapid decline in interest for one of my oldest passions, roleplaying games) and my adoration for key stalwarts in England's line-up, such as goalkeeper Mary Earps, and, most particularly, the amazing Lucy Bronze (who played through our recent, triumphant Euros campaign with a broken leg), I now find myself actually drawn to weekly, club football as well.
I don't know if it felt like discovering a whole new sport to me or that I was getting in on the ground floor (neither of which, of course, are actually true), but I can now be found watching regular games, reading match reports, catching up on YouTube clips of thrilling game moments etc.
Because of my massive fanboying over Lucy Bronze - and knowing nothing about the state of the teams in the Women's Super League - I elected to follow Chelsea (Lucy's team) and see how that went.
It turns out Chelsea are, probably, the strongest team in the league (which was a bonus for me, I guess), with a squad that features a large number of Lionesses.
So, now, I watch - when accessible through our Sky TV package - weekly Chelsea league games and the occasional UEFA Women's Champions League match (when Chelsea are playing, that is) on Disney Plus.
I've been pestering my family for an official Lucy Bronze England jersey for my birthday or Christmas - but they are ridiculously expensive (£99 plus shipping), so I'll be sticking to my increasingly tight Umbro shirt for the moment.
Meanwhile, there’s definite irony in the fact that, given my current state of disability, I won an “official Adidas match ball” in a Women’s Euros sweepstakes, via Amazon, back in late July (see picture above).
I had been entering a ton of competitions in the hope of winning myself the Lucy Bronze England football shirt (so I didn't have to employ puppy dog eyes and quivering lip on Rachel).
Something a bit different this week for Throwback Thursday, a slice of local history.
The Pantiles, in Tunbridge Wells, is probably the most famous part of the town.
Wikipedia will tell you: "The Pantilesis a Georgian colonnade in the town of Royal Tunbridge Wells, Kent, England. Formerly known as The Walks and the (Royal) Parade, it leads from the well that gave the town its name. The area was created following the discovery of a chalybeate spring in the early 17th century and is now a popular tourist attraction."
It is called The Pantiles simply because the Upper Walk was originally paved with pantiles in 1700, until these were replaced with stone flagging in 1793 and the area became known as The Parade.
Its original name came back into use in 1887 and it has remained The Pantiles ever since.
There are a number of pubs along there and these used to be a favourite haunt for Matt, Nick and I before we went to see live bands at The Forum, over on The Common.
TUNBRIDGE OR TONBRIDGE?
I currently live in Tonbridge (Tunbridge Wells' neighbouring older brother), but grew up in Pembury (a village just outside Tunbridge Wells).
I then lived for many years in and around Tunbridge Wells (with a break for university in Bournemouth and a spell in Sevenoaks) - until I moved in with Rachel in Tonbridge.
Until 1870, Tonbridge was actually spelt 'Tunbridge', but it was changed to 'Tonbridge' by the General Post Office due to confusion with nearby Tunbridge Wells... despite Tonbridge being a much older settlement!
The "wells" in Tunbridge Wells refers to the aforementioned chalybeate spring, which sits at one end of The Pantiles.
My pop culture Odyssey: a slice of super-powered geek life with heavy emphasis on pulp adventure, superheroes, comic books, westerns, horror, sci-fi, giant monsters, zombies etc
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