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A few days ago I picked up a game called **Dredge** by [scyllallycs](https://scyllallycs.itch.io/dredge) on itch.io as part of a bundle that just ended.
Dredge is an exploration-based journaling RPG and was something I immediately thought would be a neat aid to my own worldbuilding - as I could use the game as prompts to create a story for a character that could be part of my world.
One of the locations in my setting is known as the Sea of Angels, and I thought this game would be a great way to actually do something with that setting beyond just saying it's a spooky location full of mysterious monsters. By putting the character and the ship he's on directly into my setting, Dredge made for a perfect way to play a game and give me new ideas to think about.
Lately, I haven't had a lot of time for HIVE and blogging. My wife and I have been busy with house-hunting, and recently put in an offer on a place that was accepted. It's all very exciting, but it has meant that I have very little time that isn't consumed with preparing to get the house and preparing to move. As such, I thought I would maybe use the bite-sized journal entries prompted by Dredge to give me a little content to keep my page from being totally dead.
So, over the course of the next 22-ish days, I'm going to try and do small Dredge-based entries. After I've completed the journaling for the game, we'll go back and do a post-game recap. Today will be Day 0. The start of the game, and the first journal entry.
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*Day ....*
I... I don't remember how long I've been out here on the water. I don't remember much at all, honestly.
My name escapes me. I don't know where I'm from, how old I am, if I have friends and family... nothing. It's all just fog. Sometimes I think I get the half-memory of a face, or a familiar smell, but before I can focus on it, it disappears.
When I try and focus on any of that, I inevitably end up thinking of the only three things I *really* know anymore.
Three truths:
*I must find the docks*
*I must cast my net*
*Something hunts me*
These waters are dangerous. I know that much, but I don't know what hunts me or what other dangers I need to be aware of. I also don't know why I feel compelled to cast my net at various times. I don't remember being hungry or thirsty, and I've never noticed anything during the times I'm aware that would tell me I've been eating or drinking. The docks, I think, are my way home. An end to all this... That... that's my hope, anyhow.
Time is weird out here, and I find myself losing large chunks of time - zoning out for what must be hours at a time. Without land or landmarks, the passing of time is harder to track... but now that I've found this journal I seem to have more moments of true awareness than previously. I hope that by using this, I can keep track of my time out here and maybe keep myself on a path towards an ending.
I'll try to write more tomorrow. For now, I should sleep. Tiredness, for whatever reason, remains a need I have to address.
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