The Book of Worlds

How archery should be done

2012-02-15T11:13:00.001-05:00

So, say a combat round lasts 10 seconds. I counted seven arrows, and judging by the footage at the end, her grouping is flawless.

Iron Sky Trailer

2012-02-14T18:42:00.000-05:00

I've mentioned this movie before, but it bears repeating. It premiers on March 4, 2012, but it's already received outstanding reviews at the Berlinale. To quote one critic, "it's like a heavy metal band just arrived at the Berlin Philharmonic in the middle of Verdi's Requiem and stole all the applause."

You should also read this article on The Daily Mail. It talks about both Iron Sky as well as WWII UFO conspiracies. Oh, and Bradgelina.

LL s.2: The Ettin of the Arrandmoors

2012-02-12T15:30:00.001-05:00

Our party:
Jiminy Trinkets, lvl. 1 Gnome Illusioninst
Kael, lvl. 1 Human Fighter
Josiah, lvl 1 Half-elf Ranger
Kong, Pookie, and Apollo, 2 HD war dogs
Rufus, 1HD guard dog

When Kael and Jiminy returned to Barrelhead, the villagers gave them a hero's welcome. During the feast thrown in their honour, they met Josiah, a half-elven ranger who'd heard about the goblins, but arrived too late to be join the raid. That evening the the three decided to join forces, and that they would follow up on a story they heard from a travelling merchant.

Farms and wanderers have vanished in great numbers in the Arrandmoors. The rumours said there was a giant on the lose, and that it'd eaten least one hundred and fifty people. The heroes figured this had to make for some thrilling heroics, and besides, the giant could hardly be as terrible as the stories would have it. If indeed there was a giant at all.

The moors lay about six days travel days west, across the Kaiserfjord, and as the companions drew closer to their goal the tales grew taller. Some said the monster had taken at least three hundred people, and that it wasn't a giant at all, but a fierce troll. Others again that it was a two headed ettin.

They reached the Arrandmoors close to sundown, and camped in the ruins of a farmhouse. It looked like something big had grabbed the windowsills on the second floor and ripped the whole wall out. As they found deep furrows in the floor planks, as if someone had been dragged out of the house, the adventurers quietly started to doubt the merits of their mission.

That night, while Kael sat watch, a throaty roar carried across the moors. Jonah climbed the roof of the building, and as more roars ripped the night, he spotted a small cluster of lights on the slopes a ways off. The lights were moving as if in formation, then suddenly a large black shape moved across them. The lights scattered momentarily, and when they gathered again, a few had gone out. This ominous dance repeated a few times, and all the while the three spectators could hear the frightful roars. At last the lights were gone, and the moors went quiet again.

In the morning, when the heroes found the site of the nocturnal debacle, they came across the corpses of eight legionnaires, their bodies battered, crushed, and thrown about as if by a terrible force. The ranger easily picked up the trail of the monster - with its feet being more than a yard long, even the Gnome could have tracked it - and before noon they had located the it's lair.

After a short council, Josiah volunteered to sneak into the ferociously rank cave to see what they were up against. As he peaked around a bend, he saw the two-headed brute leaned against the cave wall. His left head snored loudly, while the right head was busy exploring the contents of it's massive nose. Not wanting to face the monster alone in the dark, the ranger stealthily retreated into the daylight again.

Another council - the merits of seeking out a comfortable inn was explored briefly - resulted in a battle plan, and Josiah snuck back into the cave again. This time he took carefully aim, and placed a shaft square right above the right ear of the head that was awake. Immediately after, he ran as fast as his boots would hold. Outside, they had strung a rope across the mouth of the cave.

When the ettin emerged into the sunlight, he tripped on the rope and fell on his faces. Jiminy cast a spell, hypnotising it to count to a thousand, and though the left head struggled to follow the magical instructions, the right head, unaffected by the spell, tried to get up. The dogs attacked, barking and biting, Jiminy pelted the monster with rocks, and Josiah shot arrow after arrow into its flesh.

As soon as the beast emerged, Kael quaffed a Potion of Heroism, and fueled by it he charged. He hit the ettin hard once, twice, before the ettin struck him a blow that would have killed the man where he stood, had it not been for the potion's power. By now the monster was gravely wounded, and when Kong leapt up on it's chest and ripped it's right throat out, it fell to the ground dead.

That night the three slept soundly in the ruined farmhouse, well pleased by their efforts, and laden with treasure from it ettin's lair.

Game Master's notes: Three 1st lvl. characters should be no match for a 10 HD monster, but it had already been in a fight with a legionnaire patrol. The players also played it smart, luring the ettin into a daylight ambush. Still, had it not been for the potion they reclaimed from the goblins in the last episode, Kael would not have made it back from the moors.

Also, the ettin now graces my screen. I'm quite pleased with how it's turning out.

Legion's Rest

2012-02-09T13:17:00.000-05:00

The largest city in the Dominion of Langrim is Legion's Rest. It is also the oldest, and some of it's structures date back to the century before the Isolation. In those days it had a population of about 2,500, but these days more than 4,000 people live within the crumbling walls. The crowded streets are lined with rickety buildings and ruins from the days of the Empire. Farmers, beggars, tradesmen and merchants all mill through the narrow alleys and muddy streets.

I had hoped to have a more detailed post up by the game on Friday, but as I've now just gotten a puppy, I find myself a little preoccupied.

Dungeoneering 101: Torches

2012-02-08T10:00:00.002-05:00

Torches and lanterns are standard equipment in any adventurer's pack, and most delvers'll light 'em up as soon as they enter a dungeon. Picture this: Paul the Paladin and his pals enter the Caves of Chaos. It is a dark and dangerous environment, and so they do the natural thing. They light their torches. Now able to see where they put their feet, they head into the tunnels, careful not to set off any traps or miss any treasure. Further down the same tunnel, Stinky the Goblin sits on guard. He is placed so that he has the longest line of sight practicable, and all off a sudden he sees torches coming towards him. Stinky does as he's been told, and runs off to tell his boss. Ambush is now in progress.

The thing to remember about a light-source is that it can be seen infinitely longer than it'll let you see, and you don't need infravision to spot a flame in the dark.

Carrying torches into the tunnels is a two edged sword on the best of days.

[Picture source: Allen Douglas]

Got mail

2012-02-07T17:06:00.000-05:00

Obi Wan approves.

Today I received my copy of Trey's Weird Adventures. To sum up my first impression in a word: goddammitawesomesauce! My second thought was, "how can I use this in a game?" I haven't done more than leaf through it a couple of times yet, reading the odd snippet of cool, so I haven't quite answered that question yet. Thoughts of an interdimensional gate between my ongoing setting, or somesuch, have crossed my mind, but we'll see where I end up.

That's all for now, but I expect I'll be posting on Weird Adventures again before long.

Well, done, sir!

*tips hat

Good, Evil, and shades of grey

2012-02-06T21:29:00.000-05:00

As an old AD&D 2nd Ed player, in my mind alignments have always meant a combination of the Good/Evil, and the Law/Chaos axis. When I picked up LL, I automatically referenced the alignment-system I was used to during the character generation process. Now, having had some time to think it through, I'm having second thoughts.

I happen to enjoy morally ambiguous characters and challenges in my games, and I think the "newer system" can leave too little room for grey, and thus it tends to box the players in. The conflict of Law and Chaos, on the other hand, offers plenty of space. As such I have decided to omit the Good/Evil part of a character's alignment, and thus let the dice fall where they must.

There is another use for this though. Fans of TSR's Birthright setting will remember that there realms were given alignments. I think this may be a good place to insert Good and Evil into the mix. A chaotic realm will rarely have a stable government - it may be a confederation of noble houses, a lose tribal confederation, or a clan-based society ruled by strongmen. A lawful nation on the other hand, will have established rules and dogmas that will bind even the ruler. In a good kingdom, the powers that be will generally strive to make sure every inhabitant is cared for as well as can be, and that what laws there are are not abused. An evil realm will use oppression and violence to force it's subjects to conform with whatever custom or decree may dictate.

In my LL game I will apply alignments to realms and organisations. To give an example of how this will work: A realm's alignment will be influenced by it's ruler's actions, but also by the, to use a cliché, collective soul of it's people. Still, a Lawful, but ruthless and sadistic ruler may rule a Lawful Good kingdom for a generation. There may be rebellions, but many will follow their king because the law demands it. Eventually one of two things will happen, either the evil king will be replaced by a benevolent ruler, or the realm's alignment will change.

The main reason for why I will use this system is to give me a tool to help me define a larger entity, and to provide more detailed guidelines by which I can judge these organisations' actions and reactions as the story progresses.

As always, if you have any questions or reflections, I'd love to hear them.

[Picture source: Heroes of Might and Magic V wallpaper]

Featured Artist: Matthias Grünewald

2012-02-05T19:37:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since the last one of these, and this time I have something truly twisted for you. Matthias Grünewald (1470- 1526) is a bit special, in that he bridges the Renaissance realism that was all the rage back then, and the balls-to-the-wall, scaring-the-shit-out-of-you-to-make-you-pray mentality of the Medieval painters[1].

As has become the form of these posts, I'll skip any further pontification on the topic and show you some of the artist's work. Note that all of these images are sections of altar-pieces, not named or linked to due to good old laziness.

This portrays St. Sebastian, but it is believed
that it is actually a self portrait

Lastly I've got a piece of Grünewald curiosa with a possible RPG application (if you're into little metal dudes on your table).

This little bugger can be seen in
panels 1 and 2

This mini may be a tad on the large side (5 inches), and a bit on the expensive side (USD 124.99), but one can't have everything. The vendor also has a couple of other Grünewald figures available if you should be interested.

Langrim Island - Encounter Tables

2012-02-02T15:16:00.000-05:00

While travelling through, or exploring an area, each hex has a 30% chance per day of generating an encounter.

Table 2.2: Southern Lowlands

d20
1-7	Small game (30%)
8-9	Wild dogs (2d4)
10-11	Boar (d6 = 1-4: one, 5-6: 1d3+1)
12-13	Goblins (2d4)
14-15	Merchant w/ 1d4 guards
16-17	Legion patrol (d6 = 1-2: ten infantry, 3-4: twenty infantry: 5-6: six cavalry)
18	Bulette (1)
19	Shadow (1)
20	Wyvern (1)

Table 2.3: Northern Lowlands

d20
1-7	Small game (50%)
8-9	Wolf (1d3+1)
10-11	Boar (d6 = 1-4: one, 5-6: 1d3+1)
12-13	Goblins (d6 = 1-4: 1d3+1, 5-6: 2d6)
14-15	Hunters (1d4)
16-17	Greenvale patrol (d6 = 1-4: 1 knight + 3 men-at-arms, 5-6: 4 knights + 12 men-at-arms)
18	Boar, giant (1d2)
19	Bulette (1)
20	Wyvern (1)

Table 2.3: Hills

d20
1-10	Small game (25%)
11-12	Wolf (2d4)
13-14	Ghast (2d6-1)
15-16	Goblins (d6 = 1-4: 1d4+2, 5-6 = 2d6+3)
17	Bulette (1)
18	Ettin (1)
19	Giant, Hill (1)
20	Wyvern (1)

Table 2.4 Forest

d20
1-10	Small game (40%)
11-12	Kobold (2d8)
13-14	Goblins (d6 = 1-4: 1d4+2, 5-6 = 2d6+3)
15-16	Slug, Giant (1)
17	Slithering tracker (1)
18	Leprechaun (1)
19	Brownie (1)
20	Banshee (1)

Table 2.5 Mountain

d20
1-10	Nothing
11-12	Kobold (3d10)
13-14	Gargoyle (1d4)
15-16	Goblins (d6 = 1-4: 1d4+2, 5-6 = 2d6+3)
17	Harpy (1)
18	Eagle, Giant (1)
19	Giant, Hill (1)
20	Wyvern (1)

Storyteller's note: This is my first attempt at creating random encounter tables, and I guess we'll see how it works in game.

[Picture source: Muddy Colors]

Technical issues

2012-02-01T17:34:00.001-05:00

I'm experiencing the following technical issues at the moment:

I cannot add new blogs to my blogroll - when I open the dialogue box, everything works as it should, except it will not save. I have found a few new blogs over the last week and a bit, but unfortunately I have been unable to share these on the 'roll.
~~I cannot comment on my own or any other blog - blogger does not allow me to chose a profile under which I can publish a comment.~~

I can only hope that these issues will be resolved and amended by the Lords of Google as soon as possible.

The scheduled program will resume after this message.

Hex: The Ruins of Dwergard

2012-02-01T11:37:00.002-05:00

Christian was nice enough to send me some hexmap templates, and last night I had to take this one out for a spin. This is hex 14-t of the Langrim map, and it shows the area surrounding the Ruins of Dwergard. The map is 25 miles across, with each hex measuring 2.5 miles. The biggest problem I ran into was how to list my coordinates, and the way I ended up doing it doesn't strike me as ideal, but it'll work for now.

The following is the background information on the Ruins of Dwergard:

The dwarves of the Järnafíorin clan came to Langrim from their distant homeland, some time before the Isolation. They had charters from the Emperor giving them exclusive rights to mine the mountains on the main island. A cold winter, some one hundred years after the last ship, a goblin surge washed over the land, leaving farms and villages in ruins. The people fled behind the walls of the larger towns, and after a hard winter with many battles fought, the remaining goblins withdrew from the surface.

No one ever saw the dwarves of Järnafíorin again after the Goblinwinter of 107. Their last stand has become a fixture in the island's folklore, and the ruins of their stronghold the target of many an adventure. Some of those who seek it out return with pieces of the fabled Hoard of the Dwarves, but many others never come back. The hills and mountains around Dwergard is infested with goblins and monsters, and the dwarven keep and mines are said to be littered with traps and ancient war machines, and haunted by the ghosts of the dwarves who fell there.

The GM's map, as well as some dungeons and encounter tables, are in the works. These will be posted at a later date, dependant on campaign progression.

LL s. 1: Cleaning out Ogre Hill

2012-01-31T12:47:00.002-05:00

Wherein two young adventurers return home from their first paying job to find that their hamlet has been raided repeatedly over the last days.

Returning readers will remember the Chapter-posts from the Pius Chronicles, and I would just like to mention that I will be playing with the format a bit in the LL-reports.

After having guarded a merchant's wagon to the market in Swordfall, Jiminy and Kael discover that villagers have barricaded the hamlet of Barrelhead. They're quickly told the story behind the recent troubles - a week ago the village was raided by goblins. Since then it and the surrounding farms have been hit almost every night. So far, one of the villagers have been killed and one seriously wounded, and the two Miller girls have been abducted. Goods and livestock has also been stolen. As both our two heroes have chosen adventuring as careers, they decide to seek out the little bastards and put an end to their misdeeds.

The villagers believe the goblins must be holed up in Ogre Hill, some half dozen miles north east of Barrelhead. There should only be one cave up there big enough to shelter a band, although it was closed down six years ago when the Legion cleared out the goblins from these parts. As both grew up in the area, they make good time when they set out. When they close in on the hill, they find sign indicative of recent traffic.

It being noon on a clear summer's day, they do not expect a challenge in the open, but still they proceed with caution. Even so, Kael steps in a punji pit, not once, but twice. Not to be daunted by such shenanigans, the heroes press on. What gave them pause was the small humanoid skull, fresh enough that it still attracted flies, at the cave entrance. It made them think of the missing girls, and hardened their hearts before they delved into the darkness.

This being my first session ever with LL/AEC, I used it to get a feel for how the system runs and for the balance. Yes, I know game balance is a four letter word in certain parts of the OSR, but I happen to think unnecessary deaths are unnecessary. And I certainly don't want to kill off a character just because I don't know the strength of my monsters.

The dungeon crawl went well, and we got to try out the challenge resolution. With the lack of skills, we did what so many groups have done before us -- the heroes prodded, brushed dust aside, and pried apart planks to find secret doors and traps. As I've said before, OD&D and retro-clones can have a lot in common with Storytelling games.

The party consisted of Jiminy Trinkets, a 1st lvl. Gnome Illusioninst, and Kael the 1st lvl. Human Fighter. Kael's player had the brilliant idea of buying some dogs to bolster their ranks. He didn't have the cash for a trained war dog though, so as it turned out, Jiminy bought two war dogs, and Kael settled for a guard dog. This proved fortuitous, as a couple of 1st lvl. characters without a cleric or even a measly potion of healing are somewhat easy to break.

The dogs also provided a lot of comic relief, as we used their Morale rating and rolls vs. the character's Charisma to determine their actions. One of Jiminy's mutts turned out to be a bit of a wimp, while the other would charge through darkness just to rip a goblin's throat out.

Oh, yeah, and infravision rocks! On toast!

---

The desperate fight on the far side of the underground river left the goblin boss and his warriors dead. Despite his wounds, Kael managed to repair the rope bridge and get Jiminy and the remaining dogs across. The dogs now lead the two adventurers towards the goblin lair, but at a fork in the tunnel, Kong became very agitated. He seemed to want them to chose the left path, while Pookie, her fur matted with goblin blood, clearly wanted the right path.

They ended up following Kong at this junction, and within minutes they found a chamber with a crude cage at the back. The sun be thanked, the two girls were alive and relatively sound. The naked and heavily bruised elf they shared the cell with was another matter. Even so, relieved that the children were safe, Jiminy and Kael now turned to clearing the rest of the cave.

In the next chamber, the gnome's infravision revealed a handful of shapes, all smaller than the warriors they fought so far. These creatures appeared to disappear into the cave's ceiling one by one. Pookie didn't need any encouraging, and as the massive dog bore down on one of the shapes, there were screams of panic as the rest scurried frantically upwards. Jiminy rushed forwards, just in time to stop her beast from tearing the life out of the young goblin.

Interrogating the critter proved to be easy, and in no small way aided by the large, bloody, snarling dog that refused to back away from the whimpering youth. He stuttered and cried, but answered all questions as if his life depended on it. It didn't take them long to find out that when the boss got killed, the females and the younglings, as well as the last remaining warrior, dropped everything and fled up the chute. in the end, compassion trumped thoroughness, and the terrified youngling was sent after his kin.

A while later, our heroes emerged into the evening sun with the rescued prisoners, their bags filled with the goblin hoard. All in a day's work.

[Picture source: 1: Beast of War, 2: own]

Screening process

2012-01-30T11:38:00.002-05:00

Its been years and years since I've had a screen at the table, but now that I'm running LL, it only seems proper to erect a barrier between me and "them." Also, there are some practical considerations to take into account *cough/tables/cough*. Since my old, and highly customised, AD&D 2E screen is in Norway still, I had to start a new one from scratch.

As you are all well aware, there are two sides to every screen. I got my own side - three sheets with all the nice tables on it - from Swords Against the Outer Dark, but it would appear that Shane Mangus has removed those particular files from his blog since then [EDIT: Shane's screen can be found here]. I then glued these to corrugated cardboard and cut them out.

Being as players are notoriously shifty by nature, the side facing them also needs some attention. First I glued one of Shane Mangus' Labyrinth Lord sheets to the central section, I then peeled off about 4-5 cm of the outer layer of the top of the two flanking sections. Next I cut between the ridges to make the players think they're faced with a scaling-proof log palisade. To further unsettle them, I decided I'd decorate the panels with pictures of terrible monsters and other gruesome scenes. To maximise this effect, I'll add one image after each session. That way, I figure, instead of allowing them to become accustomed to it, and thus jaded, it'll only grow more and more terrifying as the game progresses.

The last step was to pierce the conjoining sides of the panels, and connect them with knotted string.

I can now sleep soundly, confident that all my secrets are safe from the sneaky little buggers and their wee, beady, prying eyes.

A few myths busted...

2012-01-29T11:36:00.000-05:00

Matt from . . lapsus calumni . . posted a link to a quite brilliant piece on RetroRoleplaying: The Blog setting the myths of old-school gaming straight. Reading this article, I finally figured out what it was that I wanted from the OSR: a level-based storytelling system.

Having now run one session with Labyrinth Lord/AEC, I've realised that in returning to the roots of the hobby I may have found just that. It has intuitive and simple character mechanics, not unlike the WW games, but it uses a level based advancement model. The result is a game that supports both cut-throat dungeon crawls, seat-of-pants style challenge resolution, and free-form roleplaying.

I still don't know if the consensus will support continued LL play, but I think at least one of my players may have gone old school already. The alternative is to convert the Langrim game to 3.5 and just be done with it.

[Picture source: Tony DiTerlizzi]

The Dominion of Langrim

2012-01-28T16:00:00.000-05:00

Storyteller's note: This is the basic information available about the sandbox as of now. If the game flows, more material will follow.

The six islands that form the Dominion of Langrim lies somewhere North-West of the world, surrounded by seemingly endless watery wastes. The climate is cold and humid, with snowy winters and wet summers. The human and demi-human population, all but a few living on Langrim, the largest of the islands, are sustained by farming the rich soil, and by fishing in the bountiful waters off the coast.

The islands lie isolated and forgotten, separated from the rest of the world by a vast and hostile ocean. No ship has come from the Imperium for more than seven centuries, and not even the wizards of Mercere has been able to reach their brothers and sisters on the mainland. There are those who believe that the rest of the world has vanished, others say that there is some ancient magic at work, barring anyone from travelling between here and there. Yet others call upon ancient prophesies to explain the Isolation.

Whatever the cause, the people of Langrim have managed to maintain a semblance of order and structure, despite the many feuds and rivalries that has taken root in the ruling classes. They are all painfully aware of the cost of open warfare, and of the constant threat posed by goblins and the other fell creatures of the dark that haunt the many tunnels and caves. To this end, a system of checks and balances has developed, to guard the precarious civil peace in the Dominion, to keep the ever present threat of the creatures of Chaos and Evil at bay, and to secure the prestige and prosperity of those who guard the society.

Factions

IMPERIAL TEMPLE OF MIRA

Type: Religious Order

Alignment: LG

The goddess of life and the sun was a prominent figure in the Empire. In the Dominion her temple has survived the centuries of isolation through jealously guarding it's doctrines against dilution and heresy. To this end it practices strict orthodoxy in any interpretation of the scriptures, nor does it allow depiction of the goddess in any form, it also does not allow it's clergy to marry – so as to avoid any dynastic ambitions.

The Miranites are led by the priestess Mother Iepsia, an elderly human. Though in practice the order's spiritual leader, she claims to be nothing but a lowly servant of the Divine Order of Things. Although Miranite temples can be found in all cities and towns in the Dominion, it's spiritual centre is located in Castlefaust.

KNIGHTS OF THE VALE

Type: Feudal confederacy

Alignment: CG

The Knights of the Vale consists of about a dozen families of major human landowners, based in the fertile Valley of Tyrin. The Knights does not recognise Imperial Law as valid, and this has led to a long standing conflict, of varying degrees of intensity, with the Legion. Over the centuries, the two factions have found themselves at war with each other on several occasions, but they do share a common enemy in the marauders of the Underdark.

Across the island of Langrim, the steel clad riders under their green banner has become a welcome sight for those farmers and travellers when the goblin war-drums are booming in the dark.

The nobles of the Vale have little in common except their common disdain for the Imperial Remnant, and their hatred for the monsters. The current Princeps is Lady Severa, matron of the old noble house of Alarix. All major decisions are made in the Counsil of the Patrons, and here the Iron Lady sits at the head of the table. She also rules the Vale on a day-to-day basis with her two sons, Sir Elsar and Sir Marrion.

THE LEGION

Type: Militocracy

Alignment: LE

In the days of the Empire, the XVII Legion, the Gray Wolves, counted three thousand legionnaires, with auxiliary corps of archers, wizards, and healers. Despite centuries without any word from the Emperor, the Legion has managed to survive. Today's remnant consists of about three hundred professionals, and about thrice that number of part timers. Over the years, it has changed from being a purely military organization, to becoming a political entity. It's base is Legion's Rest, the largest city in the Dominion, where it controls every aspect of civil life.

The influence of the Legion can be felt outside the city walls as well; it taxes and maintains the paved roads between Legion's Rest, Port Shieldwall, and Castlefaust, and it's three galleys patrol the waters around the islands. Lastly, whenever raiding monsters are sighted south of the mountains, the legionnaires will march out to counter the threat.

The Legion is led by a Dux, and three Tribunes. The Dux of the last hundred and seventy years is the Elf Haladar Silvermoon, a ruthless but fair leader. His Tribunes are the Dwarf Trom Broadblade, Tribune of the Castle, the human Lyra Deserra, Tribune of the Sea, and the Half-Orc Garthor Blackfang, Tribune of the Field.

THE WIZARDS OF MERCERE

Type: Magical Order

Alignment: N

The order of Mercere was founded by Mercer Bladestaff, two decades after the Last Ship. Mercer was one of the Legion's wizards, and in those first tumultuous years he won great renown in the Darkslayer War. Many of his fellow magicians perished in the war, and as it became clear that the Legion stood alone, Mercer resolved to desert his post. Here the story differs. The Legion claims that since Mercer left his post, the order he founded is technically illegal. This has caused some tension over the years, but today this is rarely brought up in polite company. The Wizards themselves rarely comment on any of this.

Over the centuries, the order has become one of the pillars of the Langrim society. They practically have monopoly on Arcane magic, and though they certainly have agendas of their own – of which they do not speak – they will hire out their services to any faction or individual who can afford it. There however are things they will not do, and the most known of their rules is that they will never engage in any action that will bring down the Dominion. They are also sworn enemies of Goblins and the creatures of the Underdark.

Companion to the Map

Table 1.1: Islands

Location	Square
Langrim	2/4-A/E
Magehold	1-B
False Respite	1-E
Ragnor's Island	2-A
Stormspire	2-A/B
Keelbreaker	4-E

Table 1.2: Cities and Towns

Location	Hex
Castlefaust	9-p
Covenant of Mercere	4/5-k
Ruins of Dwergard	14/15-t
Eisenhart	15/16-g
Geenvale	16-r
Grimport	18-x
Hogan's Stand	15-n
Legion's Rest	13-l
Manheim	19-n
Port Shieldwall	12-r
Swordfall	11/12-i
Windgard	17-p

Monsters

The peoples of Langrim are not the only ones to call the islands their home. Long before man, elf, dwarf and halfling came in their ships from the mainland, goblin tribes ruled the region. Despite the viscous wars fought during the first generations of the Dominion, the humanoids still pose a threat. Other monsters also stalk the islands, preying on the weak or careless. In the ocean depths, aquatic creatures of chaos and evil rule, and few captains will leave port without protection.

Table 2.1: Monsters of Langrim

Ankheg [2]	Lich [2]
Boar [2]	Loacthah [2, A]
Brownie [2]	Lychanthrope [1]
Bulette [2]	Mimic [2]
Dog [2]	Night Hag [2]
Eagle, Giant [2]	Nightmare [2]
Ettin [1]	Ochre Jelly [1, S]
Fungi, Violet [2]	Piercer [2]
Gargoyle [1]	Pseudodragon [2]
Gelatinous Cube [1, S]	Roper [2, S]
Ghast [2]	Rot Grub [1]
Ghoul, [1]	Sahuagin [2, A]
Giant, Hill [1]	Sea Hag [2, A]
Goblin [1, S]	Sea Serpent [1, A]
Golem [2]	Shadow [1]
Gray Ooze [1, S]	Shrieker [1]
Green Slime [1, S]	Skeleton [1]
Groaning Spirit (Banshee) [2]	Slithering Tracker [2]
Harpy [1]	Squid, Giant [1, A]
Hobgoblin [1, S]	Will-O-Wisp [2]
Homunculus [2]	Wyvern [1]
Kobold [1, S]
Leperchaun [2]

1: Labyrinth Lord, 2: Advanced Edition Companion, A: Aquatic, S: Subterranean

Selling the Old School to the New Guard

2012-01-27T07:00:00.000-05:00

"I need feats!"

~Dave

Last night one of my players came over for dinner, and we started talking about my plans for Saturday. As it turns out, neither my wife or the other guy are completely convinced about this old school thingy. You may say a minor battle in the Edition Wars was fought at that table. I was outnumbered two to one, and the opposing side even had The Punk cheering from the sidelines.

Perhaps this shouldn't have come as a surprise, given that both of them have done most of their killing and looting in 3.X territories, and both of them view skills and feats as being vital elements in their character building.

As we talked, it became clear that my plans for a semester of hexcrawling may have been hastily laid. As the wife said, "this system seems to have all the things I don't like about 3.5, and none of the things I do like." I tried my best to explain why I think this is a good idea, and while they certainly didn't walk away as glassy eyed OSR converts, they did agree to give it a whirl.

Who knows, my OSR days may already have come to their middle.

[Picture source: Nick Harris]

Building a sandbox

2012-01-26T07:00:00.000-05:00

As a part of my renaissance, I realised that I needed more than just a new system. After all, the crunch is only a small part of the game. For years, my style has been that of an emulated linear narrative game structure (not to be confused with railroading), so I decided I'd follow the OSR trail all the way.

Above is the first hexmap I've ever drawn, and I have to say I enjoyed the exercise. There is a freedom in finding the terrain hidden in the graph paper. It was very different from the maps I've drawn before, and a lot easier. Good thing too, because once the map is done the work begins.

As I drew in the shoreline, smaller islands, rivers, mountains, and towns, the Dominion of Langrim began to take shape in my imagination. And so did the process necessary to build a sandbox. Whereas my normal settings develop around the PC's, this one needs to be ready for them to move around in from roll one. Now I do not intend to micro-plan every hex, but I want to have the important locations, monsters, and NPC's committed to text and table. One thing I can say for sure is that the pre-campaign prep work is a lot heavier using this model.

The map template I found on The Welsh Piper proved to be just what I needed. I'm not quite sure whether I'll keep the 1 hex/25 miles or not, but the combination of square and hex grid, and the notes/legend field on the right, makes for a user friendly map. I also find I have to keep my imagination in check while writing the background material for this setting, as I do have a tendency to spin intrigues around every NPC I come up with. This is, I believe, important in a game like this, but the nature of the game is not one of politics and scheming - unless the players make it so. Rather, what I hope to end up with is a sandbox where the NPC's do their thing, and the PC's are free to interfere as they please.

If you have any advice on sandbox construction to impart, I would greatly appreciate it.

I hope to have the map finalised, with description, background text, and some tables, in time for Saturday's play-date. You'll be the first to know.

Renaissance - (n) a rebirth or revival

2012-01-24T15:46:00.001-05:00

Around the tubes I've seen OSR explained as both Old Shool Renaissance and -Revival. I've always liked the former better, but I never had any need to actually develop a relationship with the term.

Not so any more. Those of you who've been reading this blog for a while will know that I've counted myself as firmly lodged in the New School, and that I've been a member of the White Wolf pack for years. You will also know that last summer I ended one hell of a campaign. Since then I've left my old group in favour of a new continent, and bought a house with my, as of a few weeks ago, wife. You may say that my life as a gamer has changed somewhat since I started this blog in '09.

The reason for my search for an old-school system was originally that I wanted to expand my toolbox to include something I could use to run one-shots without too much crunch if the need arose. Now I've realised that there is another reason as well. Please bear with me while I go off on a tangent. When a long term relationship ends, a period of grief and contemplation usually follows. It is also normal to experience a longing for what was. However, over the years I have learned that if you jump into a new relationship too quickly it will not work. You cannot go out looking for a replacement for what you have lost. Anything new must be built on it's own merits if it is to stand a chance.

The metaphor may be obvious, but I'll explain it quickly nonetheless. After moving to Canada I made a few attempts to start a new game on Argos, but since I hadn't yet gotten enough distance to the Pius Chronicles, I just couldn't get my mind into it.

I also tried to get a World of Darkness game off the ground, but I think I may have filled my modern horror quota in the years around the Millennium (never say never, though). The Pathfinder session a couple of weeks ago set my mind in motion. For once I managed to keep the game free of cosmic plots, and there was a great sense of freedom in not worrying about killing a PC. But as I have said before, there was simply too much crunch. Don't get me wrong, I think feats and skill points are heaps of fun, but the effort put in to char-gen rises the narrative death threshold.

Today it struck me. Instead of looking for a new long term relationship, what I need is a proper rebound.

I need a renaissance. To this end I will enter the murky waters of the OSR: Labyrinth Lord will be the system, and I've pretty much decided that I will put together a little sandbox. I've also decided that I want to put a limit on the game's duration, and the the summer vacation seems the obvious choice. Over the next week I hope to put up a few posts on my sandbox construction, and on my reflections on the OSR in general, and on LL in particular.

Great effort is required to arrest decay and restore vigor. One must exercise proper deliberation, plan carefully before making a move, and be alert in guarding against relapse following a renaissance. [1]

~Horace

[Picture source: Wikipedia]

OSR research notes

2012-01-22T13:15:00.000-05:00

The crowdsourcing gave me a good starting point for my quest for a quick and dirty fantasy system. After having followed some of the leads I was given, I have dismissed a few, and marked a couple for further research.

The first system I checked out was Microlite20. The pros here were that it was free, and that it offered compatibility with the slew of 3.X material in the house. The con, and what made me dismiss it after about ten minutes with the PDF, is that the writing is a bit heavy, and the editing is poor. The PDF clocked in at well above 600 pages, and while it contained a bakers dozen of individual supplements, it just made the process of getting under the skin of the system too inconvenient. While this may be construed as judging the book by it's formatting, it was enough for me.

The reviews I read about Green Ronin's Dragon Age tickled me, but I'm not ready to purchase another system just yet - there are cheaper options that must be explored first. Among these is Barbarians of Lemuria. I can't really say why, but after having skimmed the PDF there was nothing there that made me want to penetrate deeper into that particular subject matter.

The next system I checked out was Labyrinth Lord. As with the rest of the them, I first googled it, and where possible I would read the Wiki before looking at websites, reviews and blogs. The LL Wiki-entry had the following quote from The Escapist:

"Labyrinth Lord feels like a Vietnam War movie, where the dungeons are dark, wet, and terrifying goblins murder all your friends with spiked-pit traps and crossbow bolts from the shadows, and you start to develop a thousand yard infravision stare from the spell shock.[1]"

This had me hooked. As I went deeper into the search I became even more convinced, and having skimmed the PDF I am ready to prep for play test. First I will have to actually read the system though, and I haven't taught myself a new system in a decade now.

Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more.

[Picture source: A Characther for Every Game]

I need me some OSR

2012-01-20T13:43:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I ran a one shot dungeon crawl, and I realised that my tool-box is insufficiently stacked. So, on the off chance that I still have some readers, I'll try my hand at a little crowdsourcing.

I went with Pathfinder, and while it worked, the system is far too labour intensive for something like that. To save time at the table, my wife, a friend of mine and myself did (most of) the char-gen before the dinner, but since two of the four players had never played any D&D derivation there was too much crap on their sheets for a one-nighter. The other two weren't too familiar with 3.5/Pathfinder either, and while we all had fun, it left me thinking there has to be an easier way.

While I've been lurking on the fringes of the OSR for a few years, I do not know the difference between Labyrinth Lord and OD&D. Hell, I've never even played 1st Ed. What I would like is to get a system that allow my players to create their characters in no more than 20-30 minutes, and that will support more than just hack'n slash. I have no interest in minis, but I do have a love for skills and roleplaying. So my question to you is: Which system should I go for?

Wizards to give 1st Ed some love

2012-01-19T10:46:00.000-05:00

In case you haven't heard yet, on April 17 this year, WotC is planning to release a reprint of the 1st Edition Dungeons & Dragons DMG, PHB and MM. This Premium Edition will, according to the WotC website, be "lovingly reprinted with the original art and content, but feature an attractive new cover design commemorating this re-release." Furthermore, parts of the proceeds will go to the Gary Gygax Memorial Fund. It also looks like these books will only be released through selected game stores across North America.

Now, if I was a cynic, or engaging in the Edition Wars, I'd say this is part of a plot to win back some of the respect they lost during the days of the ignominious 4E. I'm neither, so I wont. I do think it is an attempt to get in on the OSR action, though.

The original Wizards article.

Zak's questions, with answers

2012-01-18T11:09:00.001-05:00

1. If you had to pick a single invention in a game you were most proud of what would it be?
The setting of my best game to date - the one this blog was created for.

2. When was the last time you GMed?
Last Saturday.

3. When was the last time you played?
What, four months ago...?

4. Give us a one-sentence pitch for an adventure you haven't run but would like to.
In 1812 the USA declares war on England - your farms and families are near the border, and rumours about an American army marching north has reached you.

5. What do you do while you wait for players to do things?
Engage one of them in game-related conversation/one-on-one roleplaying, or contemplate what's going on behind the scenes.

6. What, if anything, do you eat while you play?
I'm not much of a snacker while playing, but I may have a nibble if something strikes my fancy.

7. Do you find GMing physically exhausting?
No, I usually walk away from the table invigorated (sometimes also intoxicated).

8. What was the last interesting (to you, anyway) thing you remember a PC you were running doing?
When the clone Agent Cordac plotted a clone rebellion within the NWO.

9. Do your players take your serious setting and make it unserious? Vice versa? Neither?
My games are mostly serious, but pretty much every session has it's moments of, often slapstick, comedy.

10. What do you do with goblins?
I try to give them some love. I try to make the band/horde/kingdom distinct and believable.

11. What was the last non-RPG thing you saw that you converted into game material (background, setting, trap, etc.)?
It's been a while since my last regular game, so I'll go with a big one from last year and a smaller one that's still on the drawing board: The former was the Siege of Malta, the latter the War of 1812.

12. What's the funniest table moment you can remember right now?
When the 5th level paladin boldly, and without hesitation, charged the hydra on the bridge. When I ask the player to roll initiative, he asks, "how many heads did you say it had again?" "Nine," I say calmly. The light going out of his eyes was priceless.

13. What was the last game book you looked at--aside from things you referenced in a game--why were you looking at it?
Geist: The Sineaters. I was looking into implementing them as a template in the Argos setting.

14. Who's your idea of the perfect RPG illustrator?
Tough call, but the first one that comes to mind is Jamie Jones.

15. Does your game ever make your players genuinely afraid?
Nah. The people I play with are too jaded by now, and I don't really focus on scaring the crap out of them anymore.

16. What was the best time you ever had running an adventure you didn't write? (If ever)
I haven't run something out of a box/book since I was seventeen.

17. What would be the ideal physical set up to run a game in?
A room no one else needs to walk through or be in while the game is running, that has enough room for a good sized table, shelves for game books, and a music system. A fridge is nice too.

18. If you had to think of the two most disparate games or game products that you like what would they be?
Ars Magica and the old Swedish game Western.

19. If you had to think of the most disparate influences overall on your game, what would they be?
Factual history and anything that looks interesting in modern fiction.

20. As a GM, what kind of player do you want at your table?
Someone able to contribute constructively to the group.

21. What's a real life experience you've translated into game terms?
Training with a medieval re-enactment group when I was younger permanently changed how I run combat sequences.

22. Is there an RPG product that you wish existed but doesn't?
The Perfect System.

23. Is there anyone you know who you talk about RPGs with who doesn't play? How do those conversations go?
I had some brilliant talks with my dad on the subject last time he visited.

Zak's original questionnaire here: [LINK]

[Picture source: Examiner]

Snow White

2011-11-16T10:19:00.001-05:00

Ok, I am officially speachless. It's been compared to The Lord of the Rings, for crying out loud.

IMDb

[Picture source: NRK.no]

One of the really big questions

2011-11-01T19:41:00.002-04:00

The Ylvis Brothers put the focus on one of the greatest enigmas of Western culture.

How to bury a witch

2011-10-20T21:59:00.002-04:00

So, you've got a certified witch on your hands, and after you've hung her, you start to worry she'll come back from the dead and wreak havoc on you and yours. Fear not, the guys who did this professionally back when there was still a business in witch hunting came up with a safe way to bury one of Satan's chosen. Here's what you do: You drive 7 nails through her jaw-bone, and place 17 dice in her grave.

As it happens, that's exactly what someone did in Piombino, Italy, some 800 years ago. A corpse found with nails in it's skull, with dice surrounding it has led experts on the field believe this to come to this very conclusion. Most often witches were not buried in hallowed ground, and hence their graves will often have been destroyed by construction, or simply lost and forgotten. This particular woman most likely came from a wealthy family, and her folks probably donated liberally to the church to give her a chance of getting into Heaven.

Source

Disclaimer: This blog does not advocate torture, burning, hanging, or any other form of witch-abuse. If you are in need of a non-harmful way of verifying your suspicions of witchcraft, you should compare your suspect's weight to that of a duck. If you happen to be right, their weight will match, and you should take care not to injure her in any way. Remember that witches have been all but hunted to extinction by past generations. You wouldn't burn a giant panda, would you?

[Picture source: National Geographic]

NPC: The Black Cantor

2011-10-19T22:29:00.001-04:00

Years ago, back when the Redlands were still called the Duchy of Diem, the Monastic Order St. Euridicius owned several large wineries in the region, all run from the Abbey of Wolfgarten. The order's vows of poverty had long since become an empty formality, and the Abbey's luxury was said to rival that of the Ducal Palace in Zalburg.

Brother Aramath of Liesse was the third son of a Narbonnian grain merchant, and at an early age he was brought to the monks of St. Euridicius for his education and future career. He never showed any great affinity for numbers or theology, and one may even say he was a more than a little lazy. Still, his father's donations and his singing voice made sure he got to say his vows when he came of age.

Once he became a brother of the cloth, he was sent to the Abbey of Wolfgarten where he served in the obscurity of utter mediocrity for almost ten years. As with many of his brothers, the monastic life led to a steadily increasing gut, and a deteriorating health. In the summer of 1022 YE his heart all but gave in to the weight of his corpus, and he fell down a flight of stairs. The fall broke his left ankle, and he was taken to the infirmary.

At the same time, outside the walls of the monastery, the Red Death washed over the land, turning layman, noble and clergy alike into mindless, walking dead, hungry for the flesh of the living. A monk returning from a tour of a nearby wine-yard was attacked by one of the afflicted and bit in the arm. Fright kept him from informing his betters, and within days he suffered the Red Death. With the curse now loose inside the walls, some of the monks fled, others turned to prayer -- none survived.

As madness gripped the Abbey, the Infirmarian locked the infirmary doors from the outside, hoping to save some of the sick, injured or elderly monks lying inside. In the summer heat, and without access to food or water, death came quick or slow to those poor souls, but it came to all. Brother Aramath's broken leg turned gangrenous, and without aid from the physicians, his body and mind was racked by a savage fever. For days he hung on, while his brothers died around him in the hot room, smelling of piss, desperation, vomit and death. At last his body could not take it any more, and he could feel the last fibres of his life-thread snapping.

It was in that very moment, as the cold darkness closed in around him, that the thing from the crypt appeared before him. It offered him life, and he took it without a second thought.

When Aramath broke through the doors and emerged into the world again, he found it to no less hellish than the nightmare he left behind him in the infirmary. Partially devoured corpses lay in blood-smeared hallways, corpses shambled aimlessly around in the courtyard, and something cold and dead had merged with his soul.

In the decades following his brush with death, Aramath has become known in the Redlands as the Black Cantor. He spends most of his days walking the roads, paths and trails running through the once prosperous, now mostly deserted and infested with evil, region. Constantly singing psalms as he patrols his parish, he brings death to those who deserve it, be they living, undead, or supernatural. He even sometimes aid those he deems worthy of life. He was always large, but the black-clad, grey-bearded giant he is today bears little resemblance to the wobbling mountain that fell down those stairs so long ago. The radical paradigmatic change of his life also revealed his faith to him, and he will offer spiritual guidance where he deems it appropriate, which is to say almost everywhere. When stronger medicine is required, he uses a heavy oaken staff on which he has mounted the bronze tutelary from the Abbey's funeral shrine.

Father Aramath

A.k.a. The Black Cantor

Geist: The Crypt Thing

Virtue: Charity

Vice: Pride

Archetype: Gatekeeper

Threshold: The Stricken

Attributes

Intelligence: 3, Wits: 2, Resolve: 3

Strength: 4, Dexterity: 2, Stamina: 3

Presence: 3, Manipulation: 2, Composure: 3

Skills

Academics 2, Medicine 3, Occult (undead) 4, Politics 1, Science 2

Brawl 2, Survival (ruins) 3, Weaponry (heavy club) 4

Animal Ken 1, Empathy 1, Expression (song) 3, Intimidation 1, Subterfuge 1

Merits

Haunt utility 3

Haunt fluidity 3

Haunt residue 2

Ceremonies 2

Memento 5

Size 5

Speed 11

Defense 1

Armour 4/1

Initiative Mod 5

Health 8

Willpower 6

Psyche 3

Synergy 6

Plasm (22/3) 19

Keystone Memento

Skull of the Crypt Thing - Keys: Grave-Dirt, Stillness

Keys

Phantasm

Grave-Dirt

Pyre-Flame

Manifestations

The Boneyard 3

The Caul 3

The Rage 4

Equipment

Tattered monastic robes, black leather coat, breast plate, heavy boots, Hominus Sancti, maps, haversack, oaken staff with mounted bronze tutelary, Hand of the Forgotten King.

Storyteller's note: Two posts in as many days! Hopefully I'll be able to make it three for three... This character was created as a system learning exercise, but he will most likely make an appearance in my games as well.

[Picture source: Art Experts Inc.]

Hello again, and some thoughts on Geist

2011-10-18T16:04:00.001-04:00

It's been a while. After the move I still have to successfully adjust my blogging habits to my new life. There have been great changes so far, and there are more to come, but I have not given up on this here thing. If you would like to to keep in touch with me outside this channel, please feel free to look me up on Facebook. If you have written an email to me, and gotten a response, you have my name. If not, feel free to poke me about it.

Though I have not posted much, I've been playing. Not as much as before, but still with relative stability. The latest, and most notable development, has been the addition of a new playable template.

A while ago I mentioned that I was really keen on getting my claws into a copy of the out-of-print Geist: The Sin-Eaters core book. The marvellous Loquacious, who owns my very Friendly, but not even remotely close to Local Game Store with her husband Dave, offered to help me out. Thus it was that a week ago I got mail. After having danced around like an absolute fool for a little, clutching the book to my breast, I sat down and started reading.

I. Love. It.

As is my way, I transplant the WoD templates into my own world, which means I usually have to do more than just file off the serial numbers. Mage: The Awakening, until now my main focus in this world, needed a lot of work, and still does. Nothing of the Atlantian fluff can be used, and since every thing else is built upon that hogwash, pretty much nothing but the raw rules have made it into my games. Not so with Geist.

They have a natural role in the world of Argos, especially following the death of the god of death, and the following Cthonic corruption of the Underworld, that occurred in the previous Chronicle. There are some minor changes that has to be made, but my new tome is essentially game-ready.

I still have a couple of questions regarding the crunch I need to deal with before I start running Geists. The most crucial concerns how the ten Keys and the seven Manifestations work. If a character has two of the former and three of the latter, can she use any Key with any Manifestation? This is the main magical ability of the Geist, so it is something I need to figure out quite quickly. Since I cannot seem to find a passage in the book that clears this up, I'll ask the White Wolf forum-community.

Apart from that little problem, I think I'm ready. At the moment, I'm working on a Geist NPC, and I intend to get that one posted shortly. Once I've run a session or two, I also hope to get a post out on my thoughts and reflections on the matter. And I have two or three other partially completed posts in my back-log as well. We'll see how fast I can get them up...

For now, live long, friends.

[Artist: John Wigley]

Chapter: A journey into the unknown, part I

2011-09-10T17:49:00.002-04:00

Wherein a young woman sets out on a quest to find her long lost mother, hires a mercenary, meets several unsavoury types, and is forced to agree to a deal that may cost more than she bargained for.

Cast: Sonia van Reuter and Marcus D'Nough. As NPC's: A devious ogre named Shensal, a prudent mercenary named Freddick, a Wezellian spy calling himself Möller, Punch the puppet, and Lord Velimir of Geistwald.

The following takes place between 3 and 12 Novium, YE 1045.

The town of Werk lies in the North-Western foothills of the Elfswall Mountains, and ever since the Red Death scoured the lands east of the town it has become a haven for adventurers, heretics, mercenaries, and refugees. It is a place to hide from the law, and to spend one's ill-, or legally begotten, silver. Surrounding the walled town lies several farms, all built to withstand both brigands and the occasional roaming dead that still wander out of the Redlands. Sonia grew up on one of these farms, where her grand-uncle is breeding horses.

Fourteen years ago, Helena van Reuter left her daughter with her father's brother, a lapsed Evansianite monk. She was never seen again. Sonia vowed to find out what happened to her mother, and has been training hard to prepare herself for her quest for as long as she's been able to hold a sword. At long last, her guardian has deemed her ready to begin her search, and he informs her that the last time he saw her mother, she was heading for the town of Fork. And so this tale begins.

Marcus D'onough is a veteran of a handful of campaigns, at least two of which can be called proper wars. The last months he's been living the life of Riley, squandering his profits on whores, wines and wagers in the many dens in Werk who specialise in providing just such pastimes to gentlemen of fortune. Lately he's been informed that his credit is wearing thin, and that he'd do wisely in not outstaying his welcome. Unfortunately, winter is drawing nearer, and that is not the best season for a sellsword in the best of times. This year seems to be even worse, as peace appears to have gripped Eria after the Emperor's victory against the Flood in Corinth this summer.

These coincidences conspire to bring these two together, as the young adventuress hires the mercenary to accompany her on an overland journey across the Redlands. The goal is the town of Fork, where an ogre sits as lord.

The two set out from Werk on a bright and cold autumn morning, and around noon that day, they are ferried across the river Traen. Ahead of them lies the Redlands -- three days of uninhabited terrain, where brigands, walking dead, and other unknown terrors prowl. Taking the advice of the ferrymen, the two set their first camp in the ruins of an abandoned monastery, North-East of the Jötunwall. The chapel seems to have been maintained somewhat, and though it lacks a roof, it makes a fortified camp-site for those who travel these lands.

As they chop firewood, the sound of their axes attracts a small pack of walking dead. The four corpses shamble towards the ruins, and our heroes withdraw to the safety of the ruined chapel. It's doors are made of roughly hewn timber, and a solid beam bars them from inside. Thus, as the sun sets and darkness falls, the two entertain themselves with taking pot-shots at their pungent and single-minded attackers.

Once the last of them fall lifeless to the ground with a slit skull, the rest of the night is uneventful. The next day they continue North, and though they spot some movement in the distance a couple of times -- the companions decided on discretion as being the better part of valour -- both the ride and the following night passes without any complications. They make their camp in the ruins of a mill, and the following afternoon they are ferried across the Trän to the city of Fork.

The narrow, cluttered streets of the city seem to lay in a smoky twilight, and more unsettling, the inhabitants appear to be uglier and fouler than those of other towns. A request for directions to the Lord of Fork results in a bewildering half-rhyme of countless left and right turns that will lead them to the Donjon. When they enter what appears to be a main street, and D'Nough spot a Skythian mercenary who's scarred and homely, yet normal face he recognises, both are relieved. They immediately adopt him as their liaison to the mundane in this strange place, and ask him all the questions their short time in Fork has spawned. Freddick answers to the best of his ability, but, being of a prudent disposition, he has carefully avoided any close familiarity with any of the more esoteric denizens of the city. What advice he can give them is not to eat anything unless they have paid for it first, and further, that if offered anything from anyone, to remember to ask whether or not it is freely given. Of Schensal, the ogre who sits as Baron of Fork, he knows little. He does however know how to get to the Donjon.

The ogre holds court in an ancient, squat and ugly keep that lies behind a nauseatingly busy marketplace -- located in and around the long abandoned Temple. The Donjon's dark, square shape rises above the surrounding buildings, gaudy banners flapping lazily from a myriad of spears along it's battlements. A couple of inordinately ugly brutes, leaning heavily on rusty polearms, serve as guards.

Thanks to some smooth talking, the dauntless heroes are let through the gates, and soon after they find themselves in the gloomily lit hall where the Count receives his supplicants. The courtiers include both humans and not -- a couple of Wezellian merchant representatives are having a muted conversation with a small man with a pig's snout, a tall thistle-haired fellow is playing a tune on a reed flute while a cat dances with a small child with old eyes, and other such unsettling characters. The lord of the land himself sits on a solid oaken chair, huge and intimidating. The latter is only enhanced by the impossibly fragile-looking Cathayan porcelain tea cup in his enormous hand.

Led by Sonia, the two present themselves with the utmost deference, bowing and courtesying before the ogre. "My Lord Schensal," she says, "I have come to beseech you to tell me what you know of my mother."

"It's been so long since I smelled pretty," says the ogre, bending forward.

Flinching from the sheer unnaturalness of it, the girl manages to press on. The deal agreed upon in the end is that for the price of two coins from the Land of the Dead, Schensal will tell her where her lost mother went when she was last seen leaving fork, fourteen years ago. For a small additional favour, he will also tell her whether or not her mother still lives. The favour in question is to deliver a small leather tube to a certain den located in a street named Crescent Alley. Eager both to get out of the bizarre court, and to get some straight answers, the companions take their leave. Marcus badly wants to know what's inside the little tube, but his employer is quite set on simply carrying out the deal as agreed upon, and not to let curiosity cause any feline casualties.

They decide to follow Freddick the mercenary's advice and rent rooms at the Broken Halberd Inn. Here they also meet up with the only friendly face they have met in Fork thus far. They quiz him further about the ogre, and about the nature of the locals. Freddick cannot tell them much, but he calls for another of the patrons, one Hob, who can reveal how one gets to Crescent Alley. Once Hob informs them that it is always night-time in that alley, Sonia and Marcus decide to set out post haste. They keep pressing Freddick until he finally, if reluctantly, agrees to accompany them on their errand.

A while later the three squeeze through an alley so narrow that one has no room to change one's mind. They find the den in question, and warily they enter the smoky, low-rafted cellar-room. A few handfuls of people sit huddled around greasy oil-lamps, playing dice. None look up as the three armed humans file in. In the back of the chamber stands a puppeteer's screen, and as Marcus clears his throat, the curtains part. A hideous little Punch-figure takes the stage and starts a little skit. Sonia steps forward and interrupts while holding up the leather tube.

"Where do I deliver this?" she asks.

The puppet makes a mocking bow. "Have you come to play?" it asks in return.

The following exchange results in Sonia's penniless mercenary companion ripping the cap off the tube and throwing down. He gambles his horse for a question about Sonia's mother, rolls the bone dice, and wins. The vague answer result in the poor animal being put on the line once more, and again Mr. D'Nough rolls the higher sum. Also this answer is vague, but the gentleman of fortune decides to quit while he's still ahead, and within minutes the three can draw breaths of relief in the damp air outside.

Though tired, Sonia and Marcus head back to the Count. Both are anxious not to spend more time in Fork than they need -- they have heard a rumour saying it is the ogre's echo that causes those who reside within the walls to become hideous and sullen.

Schensal honours his side of the deal, and can reveal that, yes, Helena von Reuter is indeed, to the best of his knowledge, still alive.

Returning to their inn, the pair's hopes of an uneventful night's rest is shattered by Freddick, who tells them that he has mentioned them and their errand to his employer. Now he's brought an invitation from one of his benefactor's associates. They can meet this fellow in The Hooded Lantern Inn across the street. Somewhat disparaged by the constant press for their attention since they've entered this godsforsaken town, not to mention the unsettling nature of those applying said pressure, they abandon hope of an early night and set out to face this new mystery.

In a small second story room, lit by a trio of candles, Herr Möller, a black-clad and well groomed man receives our heroes. Even seated, the soft-spoken Wezellian bear evidence of being more than capable of holding his own in a brawl. In the conversation that follows, its made clear that he represents certain parties, and that these are to remain unnamed. Said parties, he can tell, also know of, and are perhaps even affiliated with, Sonia's lost mother. Herr Möller also refers to her as Adeptus von Reuter, an Arcane title, and hints strongly towards the Congress having an interest in Sonia's quest. The Congress, he explains, is a cabal of the most powerful magicians in Eria, deciding on policy in the Northern Alliance and beyond. On the question of how one may find this Congress, the answer he gives is, "they cannot be found -- they find you."

Though, as he says, Death is not within his field of expertise, Herr Möller can provide some information on how to get hold of such coins as Schensal has asked for.

"Some seven miles inside Geistwald, by the South-Eastern edge of the forest, close to the river Trän, there lies the village Mörkhogg. Here the people have been delivering their dead into the care of Ferrymen for decades, and it is the centre of one of the largest death-cults in the region."

When they part, it is after midnight, and with Herr Möller's best wishes, and his reassurance that if they meet again, it will be as friends.

The three day's ride from Fork to Mörkhogg is cold and rainy, but blissfully uneventful. The last half-mile of road before they reach the village is flanked on both sides of hundreds and hundreds of effigies, mementoes, and death masks, some elaborate and mounted in small shrines, others simple wood carvings. The village itself is beautiful and quiet, with an inordinately heavy concentration of temples. Most gods worshipped in Eria is represented, and several philosophies as well. There are simple chapels as well as larger temples, none more resplendent than the cathedral devoted to the Cult of the Ferrymen. Though not on par with the temples to the greater gods in the large cities, it is still an impressive sight where it lies, dwarfing the romantic wooden houses surrounding it.

The two adventurers have been debating how to proceed. Neither wish to actually enter the Underworld, and neither feels comfortable with stealing the coins from a dead man's eyes. They talk to a young priest of the afterlife about the metaphysical aspects of their problem -- naturally without bringing up any of the specifics -- and are informed that there is one person in Geistwald who walks between the worlds of the living and that of the dead. This person, Lord Velimir, is said to have brought the first Ferryman to Mörkhogg a generation ago, and it is said that he is neither alive nor is he dead. He resides somewhere inside the woods, and if you seek him, he will find you if that is his wish.

That evening our heroes set off into the woods in search of Velimir the Deathwalker, Lord of Geistwald. As the sun sets, they come into a part of the forest where it seems no man has carried an axe against the trees for a long, long time. The path takes them deeper, and as it gets dark, they have to rely on the instincts of their steeds not to stray into the unknown. As midnight approaches, they come to a stream where they stop to water their horses and stretch their legs. As Sonia raises her eyes after having filled her cup, she finds herself right before a dark, cloaked figure of a man, his face shaded by the brim of his hat, and the hilt of a great sword protruding from his hip. Feline eyes glare from the darkness of his face, seemingly looking directly into her soul.

Both Sonia and Marcus fall to their knees, asking if they have met Lord Velimir. The stranger confirms this, and asks, "what is your errand in these woods?"

"I seek coins from the Underworld to pay the Ogre of Fork for information about my mother," says Sonia.

A short exchange follows, where it becomes clear that any attempt at stealing coins from the dead would have had severe consequences. In the end, Lord Velimir presents two heavy, cold copper coins and wishes Sonia the best of luck in her quest.

A few days later, the two are back in Fork, before the ogre again, and the deal is carried through. The monster gets his coins, and the girl is told that her mother left Fork for the city of Zalburg.

Storytellers note: We're back on Argos again, and tonight we play again. This chapter was played out a week ago, and I've been writing on it since. I find that blogging now, with working during the day, and with kids involved, and also the whole relationship thing to consider, is a whole hell of a lot different than back in Bergen, working nights and pretty much doing what the hell I wanted. I have less time to blog, would you believe it. The kids have started school last week, and normalcy is starting to descend upon us. I hope I can fit blogging into this new schedule, but to be honest, I am pretty much navigating without a chart here. Time will tell.

To those of you with blogs of your own, I have been neglecting that for the last months. I really want to get back to reading and commenting on your stuff as well, and I am trying to work that into my days.

Live long and prosper, friends, and the Force be with you all.

[Picture source: Archives of Khazad-Dum]

Wow! Is that the time already?

2011-09-04T20:39:00.001-04:00

August has come and gone, and I've been neglecting my blog something horribly. I've moved, and with that has come a whole new life I've had to get used to. In that whole mess, the days have passed frighteningly fast. And its not like I've been slacking. I hope to have a few posts up over the next week -- it's not like I haven't been playing. In fact, I'm hosting a game tonight. On Argos, no less.

I hope you all are doing well, and I will try to get back to reading your ramblings too. I promise.

One more thing for now. The Bergen-group is still playing, and you can read about their adventures on Bjoernar's new blog.

[Picture source: walcoo.net]

Historical References: Shield-wall

2011-08-17T12:19:00.003-04:00

From antiquity to modern days, the shield-wall has allowed a small number of trained fighters to control or defeat a horde of rabble. The concept is quite simple: The men stand in formation, shoulder to shoulder so that their shields overlap. This way an enemy is denied the ability to flank the fighters one by one. Throughout history this tactic has been used by amongst others the Persians, Spartans, Romans, Vikings, Saxons, Normans, and in our own age, riot police.

Lend an ear and an eye to this burly gentleman and his friends as they demonstrate the basics of the Saxon shield wall. The concept is pretty much the same for a Roman, a Viking, or a SWAT formation. The weapons may differ though.

This South Koreans riot police drill utilises the shield wall to advance, surround the opposition, neutralize the threat, and secure the area. I don't think the Romans could have done it better.

Most RPG systems have rules for shields, although I have yet to see something that fully utilizes this piece of equipment*. Most rules only offer the shield-bearer individual protection-bonuses, and while some have feats et al. that can include added protection for the side-man, these tend to be overly complicated or not efficient enough to justify the purchase. This really is too bad, as you don't need more than a handful of guys to pull off a proper wall.

Think dungeons. Three guys in front with overlapping shields can block the passage, and provide cover for magic users and spearmen in the back. Woe to the goblins who try to storm that party. In a modern setting, riot shields could be used to fend off vampires or slithering horrors from the stars while other investigators weave spells, fire handguns, or toss molotov-cocktails at the nasties.

*I seem to remember Pendragon having a good system for the shield wall, but as I haven't read that system in a decade I may be wrong here.

[Picture source: 1 unknown; 2 BBC News]

I-CROP

2011-08-10T23:00:00.003-04:00

In 2001 the world changed. A complicated and well coordinated terrorist attack was pulled off right under the noses of the global intelligence community. As a direct result, billions of dollars were pumped into new programs, laws were passed, and agencies and organizations were restructured or created to deal with the new reality. Of course, in this climate of fear and secrecy, every single dollar was not accounted for. More than one agenda thrived in this new world of darkness.

I-CROP is only one of many intelligence contractors funded by the U.S. Government. As is often the case, few know of it's existence, and even fewer know what it is exactly that it does. It is listed as a think-tank, with offices in New York, Toronto, and London. Where it appears in official files, the group is described as doing "studies and analyses of extremist groups and counter-paradigmatic organizations."

The Toronto office is located on King Street, in the 17th floor of a modern glass-and-steel high rise. It is led by Dr. Christopher P. Hunter, a stern, pin-striped, middle-aged gentleman who divides his time between the office and various public functions. He has published several titles on counter insurgency, religious symbolism, and occult orders, both historical and contemporary. Apart from a number of analysts, the I-CROP employs a small number of field-agents -- usually independent contractors recruited from a wide variety of fields.

Storyteller's note: This is a preliminary draft for the friendly local conspiracy for Friday's game. I-CROP stands for International Committee for Research of Occult Phenomenons, and is a front for an as of yet undefined group of Mages and/or other supernaturals. I have a few thoughts on that, but for now I see no point in muddying the water with too many red herrings. Ladies, these are the guys who sign your pay-checks. Also, I am in need of a name for this game so that I can assign it a goddam tag.

[Picture source: Daily Dose of Imagery]

WoD: Marinating on a game

2011-08-09T22:38:00.002-04:00

Friday will see a game of more or less vanilla Mage with the lady friend and a friend of her's. They've expressed a wish for some modern day spell-slingin' action, and I've not hosted a contemporary game in, oh, about three or four years now. I've also yet to run Mage-as-written. My lady's friend is a n00b as far as Pn'P RPG's are concerned, though she's done a bit of MMO-roleplaying. All in all, I expect this'll be a very refreshing change of pace. Hopefully for the lot of us.

In this post I'll put down some of my ideas, mostly so that I can see how it fits together, and so that the girls can look it over. And who knows, some blog-sourcing may come out of it as well.

My first thought was to have the PC's be part of some occult organization. I'm debating whether or not to use one of the factions from the Mage-book for this, or if should create some other group, akin to U.N.C.L.E. or S.H.I.E.L.D or the Inconnu or some such. The reasons for doing this are many, but guidance and support rank high on the list. Getting the characters together for the story without any awkward finagling also counts here. Tomorrow I'll reread the section about orders in the core-book, and decide on which way to go here.

The next thing I need to decide is where to begin. With this I'm thinking location. I'm not all too keen on tying the game to a city. If I'm going WoD, I'd like to be able to use the entire map. The above mentioned conspiracy-issue will also facilitate this. Besides, there are so many neat locations I'd like to be able to visit. So far I have two ideas. One is to send them to Egypt on a relic-hunt, the other is to set the first story in northern Mexico. Both regions are ripe with chaos and action, and I can see the supernaturals being drawn to them like flies to fresh manure. I've done a bit of digging in old news already, but there's still a ways to go before I commit.

Lastly, I need to skim through the rule-book once more before the game to review the rules. The astute reader will know that the rules I've been using in my Pius-game have been trimmed of all fluff, and that I've house-ruled a lot of other stuff as well. I'd like to try to stay closer to the base-line for this one. Only problem is that I've never done that with nMage.

So, there you have it, my gaming chores for the next couple of days. It should be enough to keep me busy, I'd think.

[Picture source: Lee Bermejo]

My old notebooks, part II

2011-08-08T12:44:00.000-04:00

When I posted the first part of this series, I was about to leave Bergen, now I've arrived in Ajax. There will most likely be some changes made as to how much I blog, and about what. The specifics are yet unclear though. I have begun writing what may become a novel, and that will take up most of my writing-time. Still, I will be playing, and posts on that will most definitely be forthcoming. The world of Argos will still turn, but for now, mostly in my head. This coming Friday will see a session of WoD, and some thoughts on that should be on the interwebs over the next few days.

For now, here's a few pages from another of my old notebooks. The chronology is a little messed up, as I used a few books in this period.

All pics have clickability

This is the background I wrote for my first ever Mage character back in 1999. I had recently moved to Bergen, and while working as a security guard at the student centre I stopped a guy while entering. He had the Virtual Adept symbol tattooed on his arm, and we struck up a conversation that led to me hooking up with a group. Not many days later, I sat down to play in a game run by Håvard.

Jonathan Valen was a Swedish Odrer of Hermes Adeptus of the House Thig. He carried his staff in an oboe gig-bag, and used a laptop as his spellbook. I think I played him for a few months before we moved on to a different chronicle.

Here we have the first draft of the Forandor Sector from the Star Wars d20 game I ran between 2003 and 2005, if my memory serves me. It was a damn good game, if I say so myself.

This is the first map-draft of Argos. I must have drawn it sometime in -02 or -03. I know the first game was in -03, but at that time I had drawn a more detailed map. The outline is still the same, but that island in the Inner Sea has vanished. Perhaps it should reappear?

Another page from the early days of Argos, before it was called Argos. I threw together these temples for the first game, and none of these survived into the world as it is today. The Cult of the Book is interesting however, as it is a kind of proto-religion in the context of the Cabal of Pure Thought and the Temple of Man Supreme. As with the two latter, the former is a philosophy, not a deity-centred system of belief.

[Picture source: own]

Norway, a nation of naïve hippies?

2011-07-25T19:16:00.002-04:00

Tonight I was in Oslo for the first time after the bomb. The first thing that struck me was the number of people in the streets. Most of them had come to partake in the grassrot-organized memorial, but I couldn't help thinking about the safety-aspect -- after all, only four days ago, Norway was hit by a gruesome act of terror. It didn't take me long before I abandoned my anxieties. It felt safe, or rather, I chose to feel safe.

Does that make me naïve? No one else looked afraid either, does that make all of us naïve?

I spoke to a police-man -- four days after the worst attacks on Norway in peace-time, he was unarmed -- and he told me that in his thirty years on the job, he'd never seen as many people in the streets. He was calm, and he took the time to talk to anyone who came up to him. Later I saw more police around the city, and although there were a lot of them in the streets, few of them carried guns.

The memorial was supposed to be a march, but so many had met up that we couldn't walk. In a city of about 600.000, 150.000 had come to pay their respects, and to let the world know that we refuse to let terrorists dictate how we lead our lives. We are not naïve, we are stubborn. The mass-murderer has stated that he wanted to force us to wake up. He wanted us to be afraid. He failed. Instead of pushing us towards his own twisted world-view, he pushed us further away from it. Those in Norway who share some of his thoughts, even if they would never commit such terrible deeds, will find it hard to find accept in the weeks and months to come.

While I stood there, in the sea of people, each carrying a rose, I kept thinking about the first speeches George W. Bush made in the days after 9/11, and about our own Prime Minister, Jens Stoltenberg. The difference between their rhetorics could hardly have been greater. I kept thinking about the spiral of hatred the world has been trapped in since that gruesome day in 2001. There are enough people in the world who believe that we cannot live together, on both sides. I struck me how different my own nation may have been had the terrorist been a Muslim, not a blond Christian from Østlandet. But it wasn't. I believe that should we become a target again, 22 July will have made us uniquely capable of dealing with it without hatred and intolerance. We have now become painfully aware that race, colour, and creed does not matter to the victims.

No, we are not naïve, we are stubborn. Historically we've seen that though we are a small nation, we will not let fear dictate our lives. Those who try will be met with fierce resistance. Growth comes from adversity, and I believe that not only did the terrorist not achieve his goals, he failed spectacularly. He will spend the rest of his life alone, and outside the walls of his cell we have been brought closer together.

I hope we can all avoid hating him, for hatred is just as strong an emotion as love. Do not waste such energy on him. Instead he is to be pitied, for his life is dictated by fear. He is alone, and he will remain alone for the rest of his life. I also hope that we will all have the courage to confront our colleagues, our neighbours, our friends, when they express such opinions, whether it be anti-Semitism, racism, or Islamophobia. Do not stand idly by while ignorance and intolerance is spread, but let them know that we have seen the fruits of such thought, and we do not accept it.

See also:
Norway is Passing the Test of Terror

P.S.: I have been using my Facebook, G+, and my blog as my soapboxes for a few days now. I have felt a burning need to raise my voice, and these platforms have enabled me to reach as many as possible. For that matter, if you have any Norwegians in your feed, odds are you've noticed our outrage and grief. We will all return to normal soon. My next post will be on a game-related topic, I promise.

[Picture source: own]

The attacks

2011-07-24T09:02:00.007-04:00

"Our answer is more democracy, more openness, more humanity, but without naivety."

-Jens Stoltenberg, Norwegian PM

Norway is a small country, and Friday's atrocities touched us all. We all know someone who were touched by this attack on the basic values of our society.

The terrorist claims to be part of an international group, unified in their hatred against Islam and socialism. His goal was to force the hand of our government to take actions against what he sees as a threat against the Western Christian civilization. He failed. Norway of today is a nation without dividing lines; religion, politics and colour does not define us. Solidarity and humanity does.

Instead of seeding his own hatred in our souls, the terrorist has brought us all together. When I heard that he was of Norwegian ethnicity, and a Christian, I was relieved. How would Norway have looked today had he been a Muslim? It also made me realise that Christian terrorism hurts just as much as Muslim terrorism. We cannot fight intolerance with more intolerance.

I have been reminded of one of our poets, Nordahl Grieg:

Here is your battle plan,
Here is your shield
Faith in this life of ours,
The common weal

For all our children’s sake,
Save it, defend it,
Pay any price you must,
They shall not end it

Please read the whole poem on Wikipedia.

I have never been as proud of my country as I am now.

[Picture source: NRK]

The day after 22 July

2011-07-23T06:43:00.001-04:00

Boldly going...

2011-07-21T04:29:00.006-04:00

I've now packed all my earthly belongings. Today'll be all about cleaning the gaff, plus readying my stuff for transport. Tomorrow I leave for a week with my folks, and when we hit August, I'll be crossing the ocean. Blogwise this means I may or may not be posting for the next few weeks. It all depends on factors I do not necessarily control, or am able to see at the moment.

I'll also take this opportunity to let you know that I've made a few adjustments on this here ol' blog o'mine. If you scroll down, you'll now find two new sections on the right-hand bar. One is called Featured blog, and I plan on changing that one semi-regularly. What ends up there will be blogs I think you aught to read. The other is called Podcasts, and... yeah, exactly. If you have any suggestions regarding 'casts, please let me know in the comment field. Oh, and it looks like the crowd likes the partial post-view, so that's staying.

Before I get crackin', here are a few posts on a game-relevant topic:

Rather Gamey
["Cold Steel's Great Sword"]

the only successful one
["Science explains why running around in plate mail all day was not a good idea"]

Realm of Zhu
["Animal Armour"]

Curse of the GM
["The spear is king."]

I'd Rather Be Killing Monsters
["This Is What I'm Talking About..."]

CoastConFan Blog
["APACHES... IN PARIS?"]

Lastly, courtesy of Monte Cook's G+ feed, the Internet Movie Firearms Database.

For now, enjoy your summer (if applicable), and for the love of dice, get some gaming done.

My old notebooks, part I

2011-07-20T06:07:00.006-04:00

I'm almost done packing, and tomorrow I'm leaving Bergen. While I was going through my stuff, deciding what to keep, what to put in storage, and what to get rid of, I started leafing through some of my old note-books. I've been using them to plan my games for about a dozen years -- that is, until I started blogging, as now most of my writing ends up here. This time I've decided that I wont bring these tomes with me, but rather store them safely at my mum's.

However, there are a few pages in these books I'd like to preserve for posterity and easy reference. And I know a couple of my players will appreciate seeing some of these things again. Hence this post, the first of at least two, if not three. And since chronology is as good a system as any, I'll start with the oldest two. They measure 14 x 9 cm, and are the smallest of my books. They were in use between 1999 and 2002.

all pics have clickability

This map is from a homebrew I ran for my girlfriend at the time, Bjørnar (of Toadface fame), his girfriend, and a colleague of my GF. We were using the Storyteller system back them as well, and I think the game ran for a few months before it ended. I can't remember exactly what the plot was, but there was a goblin-invasion, that I'm certain of.

This is the main fortress from the city above. The two dots in the inner courtyard mark a couple of poles set up by some evil magician or some such. I may be wrong, but I think he was using them as a portal to get more monsters into the city.

Here we have one of the poles. I seem to remember they were crowned with the scalps of many humans, and engraved with dark glyphs, as these things often are.

And here's a cross-section of the main keep. I have no idea why I drew this, but I think we had a dramatic confrontation in the great hall.

Lastly, a few sketches of people from Mürbruis, as this particular world was called. I think I also had some larger maps, but I have no idea where they've gone. I did run a few other games in this world as well, before it passed into the darkness of old campaigns and half-forgotten myths.

One thing I noticed while going through these old notes is that I drew more back then. I think I should make an effort to pick that up again, as it's heaps of fun looking at old drawings of places that never existed.

Hero: Toadface

2011-07-19T04:59:00.002-04:00

AARGH, feel the might of my fist, puny human!!

Storyteller's note: This is the third of the hero-biographies from the Pius Chronicles. It is written by Bjørnar, this character's player.

Toadface is something of an enigma and little is known about his life before he joined the adventures of the Pius Cabal.

What is known is that he was raised by his grandmother, both living alone in a cabin located somewhere in what is called The Wild. His mother died giving birth to him, and his father is unknown. The only things he inherited from his parents was his grim-looking face and his considerable bulk, though there is a possibility that the magical artifact called Thunderer's Gauntlet once belonged to his father.

It seems that magic has been a natural part of all his life, at least he can not pinpoint a specific moment when he awakened to magic. It might be that the circumstances around his birth made him an enlightened already at that moment. It is very rare to be born with the Gift, but it is not unheard of. It is also possible that his grandmother may have stirred the cauldron of fate a bit even before he was born. From the stories Toadface tells about his Grandmother, it is safe to presume that she was a Master of the Arcanum of Life and perhaps even other spheres of magick. It might be that she made sure that her grandson would one day take over her legacy.

Some parts of the arcane education Toadface recieved from his grandmother seems almost hermetic in nature. He has on several occasions proven a deep understanding of magical theory, even able to discuss the subject on a high level with both Van Zaar and several hermetic mages. On the other hand Toadface do not approach magick in a hermetic way, but instead uses old and primordial tools. Usually it involves trollsongs and potions made of different herbs, but he have also used self-mutilations and sex to focus his Arcane crafts. His magick seems often strange to the other members of the Pius Cabal, and because of this and his looks some of them even thinks he is not human. Instead they believe he is some kind of Cro-magnon, an early protoype of man capable of tremendous feats of strength. There is some truth to this theory, after all legends of the North tells us about Giants roaming around making trouble for the gods.

His life changed when William Blackstaff turned up on his doorstep, seriously wounded and hunted by some kind of demon sent by the Queen of Stars. After healing Blackstaff's injuries it was clear that it was not safe staying in the cabin. It is unclear at this point what become of his grandmother, but it seems that she already had been missing for a while leaving Toadface alone. He have never told anyone what happened to her, contributing only more to the mystery. The theories are many, but the most likely one is that she suffered a vicious paradox backlash, becoming a tree or some strange form of wildlife.

Blackstaff quickly decided to bring the young mage to the Pius Cabal, asking them to take care of him. Toadface have ever after had an ambivalent relationship with the young god. He do not trust him, nor any other god, taking their games with humans as an insulent. In the end the Hand of Fate promised to leave him alone, freeing Toadface to earn his own destiny.

Toadface was a valued member of the Pius crew giving them some much needed staying power in fights, both with his healing powers and his immense physical presence. His deeds where many but the greatest of them all was the healing of the dragon, making him one of few humans riding the ancient creature.

Toadface of the Forest of the Northern Wild
Also called "He who eats berries" and Toadchief
Master of first Degree, of the Arcana of Life.
Knight Proxima, strongest man on Argos and Dragon Rider

Concept
Troll, Ogre, Primordial Mage, Healer and Brawler

Virtue: Hope
Vice: Wrath
Path: Primordial

Attributes
Intelligence 2, Wits 2, Resolve 2
Strength 4, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3 (Originally 4, but sacrificed one to the dragon)
Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Skills
Mental: Crafts (tattoo) 2, Medicine (Herbalism) 4, Occult (Fetishes) 2
Physical: Athletics 2 (flight), Brawl (punch) 3, Stealth 2, Survival (Forest) 4, Weaponry 2
Social: Animal Ken 2, Empathy 2, Intimidation 1

Merits
Holistic Awareness 3, Giant 4, Iron Stamina 1, Strong Back 1, Natural Immunity 1, Status (Northern Army) 3

Gifts&Edges
Totem (Runungar) 3, Primordial 2, Dream 1
Flaws:Disfigured 1 (a small mushroom growing on his nose, a result of failing a paradox dice throw)

Arcana
Fate 3, Forces 2, Life 5, Mind 1, Spirit 3

Defense 2
Armour 0/5 (arcane 5 from the spell; organic resilience)
Initiative Mod 5
Speed
Health 9/10 (max 10 from the spell; supreme honing of the Giant form*)

Willpower 5
Humanity 7
Gnosis 5

Weapons
Thunderer's Gauntlet, Magical artifact – dice pool 11/16 (max 5 from the spell; supreme honing of the giant form).

Maintained spells: Body Control, Organic Resilience, Body Mastery and Superlative Luck.
Invented spells:Supreme honing of the Giant Form, Curse of the Gøthic machine

[Picture source: Michael Gullbrandson]

A Thief and Thirteen Fighters

2011-07-18T11:51:00.004-04:00

Bilbo Baggins

These are the lead characters of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, all put together in one post, for consistency and your viewing pleasure. Instead of editorialising, I'll just say that I'm looking forward to seeing what Jackson can come up with this time.

Fili and Kili

Dori, Nori, and Ori

Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur

Gloin and Oin

Balin and Dwalin

...and Thorin Oakenshield

Historical References: The Lost Expedition

2011-07-17T19:49:00.005-04:00

Relics from the lost expedition, published in the
Illustrated London News, 1854

Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~Dylan Thomas

It is 19 May 1845, and the two ships HMS Terror and HMS Erebus are setting out on an expedition to find the near-mythical North-West Passage. Aboard are 129 men. The vessels are outfitted with the most sophisticated and modern inventions — no expenses have been spared. Both have modern steam-engines and screw propellers, making them capable of travelling at a speed of 4 knots under their own power. They have reinforced hulls, and steam-powered heating for the crew-quarters. They have supplies to sustain the members of the expedition for five years. The commander of the mission is Sir John Franklin.

The two ships were last seen in the end of July that year by a couple of whaling vessels in Baffin Bay. Not until 1854 did any news about the expedition's fate reach England. A search-party sent out by the Hudson Bay Company could deliver the following chocking account. "From the mutilated state of many of the bodies and the contents of the kettles, it is evident that our wretched Countrymen had been driven to the last dread alternative — cannibalism — as a means of prolonging existence."[1] This of course sparked quite a controversy back in London.

We now know that the expedition wintered off Beechey Island, not far from Nunavut, between 1845 and 1846. Here three men died. The following winter, both ships became locked in the ice off King William Island, and neither sailed again. Franklin himself died there on 11 June 1847. The crew wintered here one more year, and the survivors finally set out on foot in late April 1848. They would all die, never coming closer than several hundred miles from the nearest outpost of Western civilization.

What went wrong? There were a number of factors that played a part in the gruesome demise of the 129 sailors and officers. First off, seriously, you know you're in a horror-story when the plan is to take two ships named Terror and Erebus, into uncharted Arctic waters. Then there is the commanding officer, Sir John Franklin. He wasn't the first, or even the fourth choice. Franklin got the job because the rest either said no, or lacked the necessary social prerequisites for such a high profile position. I'm not saying he was a poor choice, but it fits the picture of a doomed journey quite nicely so far.

Another reason was the choice of course. Apparently, the passage on King William Island's western side took them into "a ploughing train of ice [that] does not always clear during the short summers."[2] The eastern passage was later used by Roald Amundsen when he, as the first to do so, successfully navigated the North-West Passage in his 1903-1906 expedition [Edit: See Robert McLure]. The Franklin-crew was also beset by illness:

"[Results of a study of] King William Island and Beechey Island artifacts and human remains showed that the Beechey Island crew had most likely died of pneumonia and perhaps tuberculosis [...] Toxicological reports pointed to lead poisoning as a likely contributing factor. Blade cut marks found on bones from some of the crew were seen as signs of cannibalism. Evidence suggested that a combination of cold, starvation and disease including scurvy, pneumonia and tuberculosis, all made worse by lead poisoning, killed everyone in the Franklin party.

Quote

The lead poisoning came from the 8.000 tins of conserved food the expedition brought. As it happened, these were made by the lowest bidder, one Stephen Goldner, who got the contract on 1 April 1845, just seven weeks before the ships sailed. The tins were sealed with "lead soldering that was "thick and sloppily done, and dripped like melted candle wax down the inside surface." [3]

Over the years, many expeditions set out to find the remains of the lost crew, and steadily the pieces of this macabre puzzle was unearthed. Yet I am certain that there is more to this than meets the eye. "That is not dead which can eternal lie. / And with strange aeons even death may die."

See also:
The Franklin Expedition: 1845-1859 on The Victorian Web
Franklin's lost expedition on Wikipedia

[Picture source: Wikipedia]

Fragments of Truth and Fiction: Lethal Ladies

2011-07-17T13:23:00.005-04:00

Elyn von Sturm, one of the best Panzerzeppelin-commanders of the OUT, is a first generation Argonian. It is said that she is more at home in the air than on the ground. She often volunteers her dirigible, the Himmelwulf, for long-range scouting missions. She is known to be particularly interested in arcane phenomena, and lately it has been commented that perhaps her methods are a little too dynamic for the Thulist establishment.

Among those who pay heed to such things, the woman called Wraithblade is a matter of some debate. Some call her a hero, others a villain, a murderess, even. There are many stories about her origin, but they all tell of loss and grief at the hands of reckless magicians. According to the tales, she hunts those Enlightened who forget that their mandate is to serve and protect mankind. There are also those who believe she is nothing but a story invented to scare young apprentices.

Esmeralda Corvinus lost her family to the Red Death when she was a small child. She was found by a group of gypsies, and raised as one of them. When she was nine, she discovered that she could talk to birds. When her foster-parents became aware of this, they presented her to the Raven King. Since then, Esmeralda has been trained as a spy and a thief, and she now acts as one of the King's many human agents in the Redlands and beyond.

Beatrice da Anterra is a renowned Corinthian heroine, brigand, and rebel. She commands a band of fighters with similar convictions in the southern Corinthian highlands. They are fierce opponents of the Temple of Man Supreme, and stories of her deeds are told all over the peninsula. The Templars, of course, see this differently, and a price of 1.000 Escudi has been placed on her head.

Mermaids are among the most feared of the minions of the Exarch. These terrible creatures will stalk a ship for days, attempting to lure sailors to their doom with dark secrets and temptations of power. They lurk around hidden reefs, waiting to prey on the crews of those ships who run aground, and sometimes they will come ashore during the nigh, to snatch the unwary away to the cold deep.

[Picture source: 1 Aly Fell; 2 Cinar; 3 J Fredrickson; 4 QJ.net 5 GraySapphire]

Non-magical loot: Singing Bird Pistols

2011-07-16T18:57:00.004-04:00

These should be worth a hefty sum in just about any setting, and probably well worth a little crime. This particular pair was sold for $5.8 million in May this year, after "[...] an epic bidding war between two of the world’s most connoisseur collectors who fought fiercely for more than 10 minutes." [source] Now if that isn't enough to make you hum the theme from Mission Impossible, you're in the wrong hobby.

Thanks to Kevin Mowrer for the video.

The Voyage of RAS Talôn

2011-07-16T16:25:00.005-04:00

Storyteller's note: The following article was published in the The Correspondent, No. 47, in YE 1042.

Correspondents,The following letter was submitted by The Hon'ble Rev. Dr. Thaddeus Potley COGD, Gardener to His Majesty King Rowar II of Pendrell, regarding his service on the gun-sloop RAS Talôn's journey to Thule. As you are no doubt aware, in Tertius YE 1041, Commodore Sir Jonah A. P. Peregrine CA KCOGD was gazetted by the Council to find a passable passage to Øksfjord in Thule, and was considered lost until recently. You are no doubt also now aware that the northern OUT colony is powerful enough to claim the troposphere.

Cor~
I wish to tell you about what we learned about the Enemy on our journey. I did, of course, also make several natural-philosophical discoveries I am sure you also would like to know about, but I'm afraid that must go through my publisher, the Marcks Brothers, of Shepherd's Court, Crondor. Contact also same with requests for my papers and pamphlets.

On 17 Quintus YE 1041, we set out from Kriefall in the realm of the Terema, after having taken aboard provisions. Two of the Queen's Rangers had come aboard as well. These knew the waters to the east better than anyone, it was claimed. Apart from Yours Truly, the amalgam now consisted of Commodore Sir Jonah, Adeptus Ritmar Arbalestus bani Septimus, Cpt. Sir Oliver Halcyon, The Second Of Three, as well as the oldest Ranger.

Now, you must understand that Thule has not so far been reached by land or by sea. The only time of year the waters are free in that part of the world is around midsummer. Among the difficulties can be mentioned that the sun practically doesn't set between St. Servin's Day and Harbinger in that unreasonable region, and so we had to take all available precautions so as not to jeopardise the mission.

We sailed eastwards for three weeks, and not even in the midst of summer did the barren coast see much vegetation -- shrubs and stubborn conifers passed for forest in the most fertile valley. There were also many ice floes providing additional challenge to the seamen. We passed the Saw-backed Mountains (the farthest the Rangers had been until then) and found a way through the deadly grind of small islands and drifting ice of the Maw. It took us almost a month to reach the Hollow Sea, as the first Aragonians in history. By that time, the we had no choice but to prepare for wintering.

This was our Capon's decision, and the amalgam and crew built a blockhouse on an island (who's name I cannot reveal in this letter), and hid the ship. From there we could observe the enemy's aerial patrols, and by the end of Octavium we had established a map. No further than 10 leagues to the north of our island, on a low mountain rising from the permanent ice, there was a Reaver-base (six permanent vessels) with a medium Ward Mast. Further north and north-east there were three more of these bases, and about 50 leagues from us we found a major fortress. Thule had been placed on an Aragonian map.

The land we found was unlike any we had imagined. The fjord itself is shielded from the ice on it's sides by dark and heavy mountains, and between these a long, wide valley cut north, into the massive, eternal ice that covers this entire continent. Before winter came upon us, we had found the locations for five larger settlements, as well as several farms and factories. The daylight became scarcer by the day, and we realized that we would not see the sun for many months.

We were well supplied, and had stocked up on seal-meat (caught aplenty, no more than 200 paces from the blockhouse), and I do not think many among us felt any doubt or fear those days. By mid Novium, the ice floes were cluttering the entire Hollow Sea, and snow was in the air. A month later the entire world had been gripped in a monumentous, breathtaking, dark and utterly cold winter. No sooner had the sea frozen, than Cpt. Sir Oliver Halcyon, Second of Three, Yours Truly, and both Rangers set out on foot to reach the Øksfjord Valley.

I will not deny that being on that vast and icy plain stirred a deep despair in my soul, but I drew solace from the words of St. Revan: "Sing prayers unto the Creator and be mighty amongst us. For to this remembrance is given power and our strength waxeth strong in our Comforter." My companions sought similar refuge in their own enlightenment, and so we made it across the frozen sea. Here we followed the wall of ice that rose like the steepest cliffs from the southern shores of Thule. Had it not been for our Connection with the blockhouse, I am sure we would have turned around long before we made it thus far, for we were under constant assault from the hateful nature. The very terrain seemed to listen, and the ice was ever speaking to us of things we could not fathom.

Forgive me for my melodrama, but all of us who sailed aboard the RAS Talôn saw more of the world that winter. I will now restrain myself from sentimentalities, and instead delve to the core of the matter.

It took us three weeks to reach Øksfjord, and as we had suspected, it lay shielded from the tectonic onslaught of the ice by her mountains, and the fjord itself remains unfrozen except for midwinter (caused, according to the oldest Ranger, by ancient warm oceanic entities following a primordial connection from warmer lands). Further, as I had myself suspected, we also found the coastal hills sown with age-old ruins.

Though the landscape lay shrouded in heavy snow, we located a suitable barrow, and excavated the site. The snow quickly covered us, and we were able to camp comfortably under the hill for a month. Second of Three managed to reach these Dead, and through her we could verify the theory of Pax Thule. For the sake of thoroughness, I'll sum it up here: In the First Age, the people of Thule were the proudest of all the peoples. The ice-wall was days inland, and they were enlightened, wealthy and prosperous. Their greatest knowledge was the binding of spirits, and in their age there were many, and so forth.

More interesting was the verification of my Sundering Theory. The Sundering was indeed caused by a meteor-shower, not one single phenomenon. I pray that now we can finally lay to rest the myth of the Deep as a quantifiable entity. The Legends of the Exalted tell us of the Black Stone, and we know that one hit the moon. There are no doubt many such legends no one could tell us, of proud civilizations, eradicated and forgotten, but the truth stands before us all: There is no such thing as a Supreme Abyssal Being, there are abyssal entities, and there are Things That Must Not Be. This is not the channel for a discussion on the ramifications of that reality, so I will stay my pen.

I can now prove that when Optimus Pantocrator created Argos, our world was a perfect round sphere, floating in the multiverse. When the Sundering occurred, that equilibrium was broken. The delicate balance of creation was torn asunder as The Things That Must Not Be rained over the Western Hemisphere of Úr-Argos. In the First Great War this was halted, and a balance was restored, but not before our world had become damaged and warped. Not only were lands shattered and mountains appeared where there had been none, but Primordial Connections were severed or moved. Argos became a hyperspherical world, and as such not entirely quantifiable by linear science.

For the people of Thule, the Sundering preceded a time of hopeless doom. Among other things, the meteors caused Argos to lean off it's axis. In Thule, this led to the winters becoming longer and colder, and the ice started advancing. Of the once great civilization, only the ruins of Øksfjord, behind it's mountainous shield remained. Everything else has been ground into oblivion by the ice that now covers all. The Thulists of today are descendants of those who left what they believed to be a dying world, setting out into the multiverse in search of a new home. This is a topic I have already covered at length in my earlier writing, and so I will refrain from a digression along that line.

Sir Oliver and the Rangers were also able to learn much of the colony before we turned back to our island, and that report has been sent to those who are so entitled. I will however recap a few of the broader points for your edification.

Only the advanced science and technology of the OUT makes them able to live there, but given their history, one should not be surprised that they seem to thrive. Though the colony covers a relatively small area, it is densely populated -- we estimate that somewhere around 30.000 people, all told, now call Øksfjord their home. There seems to be a considerable mining activity, and deep tunnels have been dug into the mountains. From what we could tell, they were digging for a porous black rock; these stones has a distinct oily quality, and will leave a black mark on anything they touch.

When we returned to our island, each of us, mage and mundane alike, had to face the darkness and the cold as best we could. It was not the elements in themselves that took the greatest toll (though we lost three men to the cold), but the indifference and the vastness of that frozen land. None of us remained unchanged by our winter in Thule.

---

List of abbreviations:
CA - Captain of the Argonauts
COGD - Companion of the Order of the Golden Dawn
KCOGD - Knight Commander of the Order of the Golden Dawn
OUT - Ordo Ultima Thule
RAS - Royal Argonautical Ship
YE - Year of Enlightenment

[Picture source: National Geographic]

A good place to lurk...

2011-07-13T23:02:00.000-04:00

...these days, is this thread over in the Yog-Sothoth forum.

Tax Instalment: Nightfall

2011-07-13T14:27:00.001-04:00

According to Joesky, I owe some tax, seeing as I'm prone to punch out rather lengthy posts every now and again. To settle that score, I give you the second adventure I've ever written. The first was 19 years ago, and not that big of a success. Hopefully this one isn't as bad.

Nightfall is an adventure for three to six players, using the Storytelling System. It is based on the film Pitch Black, but both scenario and plot has been modified to accommodate the chaos of roleplaying. I wrote it mostly as an exercise, but if you find it useful, I'd love to hear how it went. For that matter, should you have any comments, I'm all ~~ears~~ eyes.

Nightfall

White Wolf: Print on Demand

2011-07-12T09:49:00.002-04:00

This is something I've been thinking about since I found out that White Wolf was going Print on Demand. The hype at the time was that "every book from [their] back-catalogue would become available." Since then I've seen nothing to indicate this is becoming a reality. Until now, that is.

"The PoD catalog currently available on DriveThruRPG is the only stuff they've so far converted to PoD format. Everything which isn't on that list is in the "to do" pile, but depending on the individual book, the availability of original source documents, how easy it is to convert those documents to the proper format, etc., all affect the amount of time it takes to prepare them for PoD. It's a process that takes time, and they've got limited manpower to do it. There's no real way of predicting how long a book will take until they're doing it, so there's no real release schedule. Stuff's ready when it's ready.

Quote by Ian Watson

Looking at what DriveThruRPG has available in print as per today [link], the list is somewhat dismal. As Watson pointed out in the same post: "Older stuff has been out of print longer, so it's probably got a higher priority for conversion." In practice, this seems to mean that at the moment, unless you're looking for an oWoD-book, you're SOL. I don't know, it seems a little half-assed. If they want to keep people playing their newer lines, they probably should prioritise those, but what do I know. I do know that I want Geist, and I'm not paying the 100 bucks Amazon is asking these days.

Disclaimer: As far as I can tell, Watson is not an employee of WW, nor does he quote an official source. Thus this information, though seemingly accurate, may be considered anecdotal -- a rumour, if you will.

[Picture source: Timothy Bradstrreet]

Speaking of Trolling...

2011-07-11T19:24:00.000-04:00

Sorry about that. You can go back to whatever you were doing now.

Pantheon: Gudmund

2011-07-11T14:36:00.004-04:00

Black Staff, Wanderer, Hand of Fate, Second Witness
God of Fate and Magic
Symbol: A black staff or rod

The legends tell us that Gudmund, son of Arkon, betrayed his brother Trond. In punishment for his crime, Arkon sentenced his son to wander the lands until he had made penance. There are many lesser tales of the lonesome Wanderer throughout Eria and the North, but the most important is that of the Second Witness.

Throughout the ages, Gudmund's body has died several times, but each time his soul -- barred entrance to the Underworld -- has been born into a new body. Upon coming of age, these incarnations have all succumbed to the the restless life dictated by Arkon's curse. At the end of the 11th Century of Enlightenment, William Blackstaff of Pendrell, the final incarnation of Gudmund, was officer on a merchant vessel en route to Freeport on the Western Isles. The ship was blown off course in a terrible storm, and it finally foundered off Dragon's Tomb Point on the Forsaken Coast. Among the survivors was also Frank da Cola -- later to ascend to godhood as the Three Dark Men: Morfeus, Lord of Nightmares; Geminon, Lord of the Cross-roads and Shaitani, the Drowned Man.

What follows is from William Blackstaff's testimony before the Pendrellian Admiralty's Shipwreck Committee in Decadum, 997 YE:

"That day we came upon the remnants of some ancient civilization, and at night we sought shelter in a ruined fortress in the foothills. Here we discovered a gate of massive silver, barred with arcane seals form the outside, leading into the very mountain itself. An argument erupted among the survivors, where many wanted to open the gate so as to gain access to the riches that must be hidden behind. It was my distinct understanding that such a barrier would not have been employed to keep anyone out, but rather to keep something in.

[...] it had now become clear that none of the survivors would respect my authority, and that they had all become blinded by greed. On that basis I then decided to set out for the civilized world on foot.

[...]

From my vantage point in the mountain, I could now follow the events after the seals had been broken. From within it's mountainous prison a great dragon came forth [...] killing everyone in short order, until but two stood alive before it. Hereupon Thurn fired his pistol at the great beast, causing it to pause. Immediately after, Mr. da Cola murdered bosun Thurn with a shot from his own pistol, and subsequently knelt before the dragon."

William Blackstaff spent two years crossing the Wild on foot before he reached Livonia, and later Pendrell, and could relate these fateful events to the rulers of man. The dragon's release is that selfsame event now referred to as The Breaking of the Seal, and it was also that which set Gudmund on his path to apotheosis. This path would lead him to travel to worlds beyond Argos. Together with da Cola, he also faced the dragon in battle, and it was him who slew the great wyrm. It was also he who brought Morfeus the heart-stone that allowed the Lord of the Nightmares to rebuild the White Tower after the War of Fate.

The name Blackstaff has two meanings, and here we can indeed see the evidence of Fate. The family-name Blackstaff is one of old Pendrellian origin, and it was into this bloodline Gudmund was reincarnated at the end of the Third Age. He would later come to bear the Staff of Fate, given him by the Living Prophet right before his death -- this great artifact is indeed an ancient black staff.

Gudmund is revered by merchants, magicians, sailors, adventurers and those who are dependent on luck, and he is a staunch enemy of the Servants of the Deep.

See also:
The Legend of Trond
The Pantheon of Argos

[Picture source: Jeffrey Jones]

5.000 gp and an Ice Cream Cone

2011-07-10T14:30:00.003-04:00

The user Jetshield posted this little story in the Wizards Community forums. It's a wonderful tale of imagination, roleplaying, and the next generation.

"So there I am, watching my group bicker (in character) about how to get into the Temple of Akargon to retrieve the Rod of Improbability that's rumored to be there. The little one (she's 7), comes in from the next room, taps on one of my player's shoulder to get his attention, and says "I've got the key I can sell you."

Now, most groups would probably drop out of "game mode" at this point, humor her, and get back to playing. I don't play with most groups.

The player says to her (still in character) "What do you want for it?"

"Five thousand gold" she replies, "and an ice cream cone."

"An ice cream cone?! What's that? More to the point, where do I find one."

"There's an ice cream store over near the school, but they're closed now."

"What if I just give you six thousand gold instead?"

"Okay, six thousand gold...and an ice cream cone."

"No. No. I meant six thousand gold and no ice cream."

"No ice cream, no key." she says with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"I'm not sure it's worth it. We could just kick the door down."

"If you don't have the key, the guards will kill you. They're really tough. You'll never get to the door to kick it."

"According to our sources, there are no guards. Besides, a few soldiers shouldn't be much of a problem."

"They're statues that come to life if you don't have the key." [note: this is news to me]

"We can handle a couple statues if we have to."

"There's a thousand of them."

Another player chimes in (also in character). "If she's even half-right, we're going to need that key. I say we get her her ice cream. We're wasting time."

First player: "Okay, little one, we'll get you some ice cream. How do we find you when we've got it?"

"I live here, silly. I'll be in my room." She says, and heads off. [another note: the characters were having this conversation in a burned out ruin in the middle of a barren wasteland]

The characters head off on a quest for ice cream (minus one player, who went to the store to buy ice cream and cones).

[Picture source unkown]

Re: Your Dungeon Is Suck

2011-07-06T06:09:00.003-04:00

Over a year ago, my blog-surfing led me to a blog named Your Dungeon Is Suck. I scanned a few of the top posts, and quickly dismissed it as immature, anonymous mudslinging of the uninspired type. Then I moved on. Since then I've seen this blog mentioned here and there, and I've also read a post or two. It stays true to form. It sometimes puzzles me that this type of garbage attracts an audience, then I remember that the internets are full of losers, bullies and piss-ants.

Had Your Dungeon Is Suck at least been written by someone with enough integrity to put his own name, and maybe even a picture, to his profile, I might have been inclined to look for nuggets of satire in the steady stream of filth. It is not. It is instead an example of the bad side of the web -- the side where the inadequate feel empowered by their anonymity, and where they use this power to see how much they can hurt other people.

I cannot respect the person hiding behind Your Dungeon Is Suck, nor can I respect the cackling choir that seems to frequent that particular digital dung-heap. He and his followers represent the absolute low of this community.

A job that needed doing

2011-07-05T18:00:00.002-04:00

The Pius had reached the highest reaches of the troposphere. Above was only the darkness of the Void. Below and to her aft, arching north and westwards, lay the unnatural storm-front that blocked the approach to Cora. From this perspective it looked like a fat, black snake on the dark waters of the Straits of Ahriman. Somewhere down there, beneath the waves, the demon of the cauldron was fighting the Kraken. Hidden beneath the tumultuous clouds were also the combined fleets of the Hannumen and the Wolf Lords, as well as the Armada of Forlorn Hope – that would be a great battle. None of these things concerned Commander Spearhawk.

"All magicians below deck!"

Spearhawk knew that this was the defining moment of his life. He was miles above ground, in an oak-built ship, and the Bansl Apparatus, the arcane engine that had allowed the Pius to fly through both air and Void, was about to be dismantled. The magicians, who's craft had facilitated almost all the wonders accredited to the vessel, would leave the ship, and they would take the apparatus with them. Spearhawk's orders were to deliver an OUT-constructed bomb directly into the city of Borgen on Cora. To do this, he would have to get the ship close, and fast unless the demons down there ripped her apart. He also had a mind to save the Pius and her crew.

"Secure all hatches! Free-watch below decks! Check lifelines!"

As the orders were given, a shudder went through the hull. The apparatus had been removed. The Pius was now at the mercy of nature and the crew. The bow dipped downwards, and far below and ahead, the island of Cora came into view. Spearhawk checked his bearings, but before he could relay his instructions to the helmsman, the ship suddenly gained speed. The magicians must have made some final adjustments to the plan. Instead of free-falling, the Pius now shot towards it's target. Flames began licking the bow, the wind screamed, and had it not been for the goggles most of the crew wore, none would have been able to see much at all.

She was a fine ship, and there was no better crew anywhere on Argos. Spearhawk was well aware of this, but how do you defy reality if you have no hard magic? He felt a pang of regret over not having Adeptus Rupertus beside him, but immediately dismissed this as useless sentimentality. Blast all magicians and their hubris!

"Trim the ventral sails, and secure the main balloon."

Crewmen jumped to their tasks without question. They all knew that their chances were slim at best, but to a man they trusted their commander and their ship. In the rigging, men worked frantically, and little by little, some control was established over the tons of timber shooting down towards the rocky island.

The trick, Spearhawk knew, was not how to deliver the bomb, but to somehow avoid crushing the ship to toothpicks in the process. He checked his vector and made some adjustments. His plan was to come in just a little bit short, then pull up. The bomb would be cut loose as the bow rose, and then it was just a simple matter of aeronautics. At least that was the plan. The extra speed had not been part of the plan.

Seconds passed, and with each the island seemed to grow. Now it appeared as nothing less than Argos itself, rising up to punish man's insolence in believing he could escape it's bonds.

"Deploy main cloud-anchor!"

The large sail-like contraption was rolled over the aft railing. It fluttered, then it caught air with a loud clap. The ship shook itself like a whale fighting the harpoon, then it steadied.

"Helm two points starboard, altitude rudders three points down. Deploy forward balloon!"

By the gods, he loved this. The ship reacted to his commands, and he could feel the Pius fightning to stay alive. Like everyone who had been on board for a while, Spearhawk did not doubt that the Pius was somehow alive. Now she was fightning for her survival, just as her crew.

The city of Borgen was now clearly visible ahead. It's once proud temples and towers had been reduced to sharp, broken ruins, half obscured by a dark mist. Things that did not belong in this world could be seen in the air, but for some reason, they did not attack the ship. It was like the defenses had been paralysed by indecision.

"Deploy port and starboard cloud-anchors! Full inflation of forward balloon! Ready the bomb!"

The crew jumped to their tasks, and the speed decreased a little. As the forward balloon filled up, the bow drew up just enough that Spearhawk allowed himself a second of hope. Still, they were falling fast, and whatever measure of control they had over the ship was not at all enough to call this anything but falling with a plan.

On the fore-deck, the lieutenant in charge of the bomb gave his orders. Four sailors swung the net containing the bomb over the railing, and lowered it down so that it hung below the ship.

"Cut main cloud-anchor, altitude rudders twelve points up. Full inflation of all balloons! Drop the bomb!"

As the bomb fell and the balloons filled to capacity, the bow rose, and with the main anchor cut, the Pius gained some speed again. Something slammed into the hull on the starboard side, causing the ship to list to port. The hideous thing tore at the timbers of the hull, and from the gun-ports marines fired their muskets. Calls for men to repel this enemy rose from below decks.

They were now low enough that as they flew above the ruins of Borgen, they were below the few remaining towers. Behind the Pius, the atom-crusher detonated with a blinding white flash that eradicated walls, demons, and men alike. A scorching wind filled the sails, and the starboard cloud-anchor burst into flames.

The blast, and the loss of one anchor, made the Pius list further. She was now almost on her side, and Spearhawk knew that he no longer had any effective control over her. Their only hope was in the deals he'd made, and in Pius' will to survive. The crew all knew this, still they did all they could to save their home. Sails were adjusted in an attempt to catch some air, the every balloon on board was inflated. Despite the demon tearing at the hull, every free hand ran to the starboard side in the hope of righting the all but helpless vessel.

Just yards below, the jagged teeth of the broken city flashed by like hungry reefs in an ocean of nightmares. Scattered musket-fire barked inefficiently towards the ship as it sped above. In front, the western wall of the city came rushing towards it. If only they could gain a few yards of altitude, they might clear it. Then there would only be the dangers of landing in the bay – not without risk in any case, but almost certainly catastrophic if the ship was on it's side.

At that moment, when it seemed certain that the Pius would never sail again, Spearhawk had a moment of clarity.

"Haul port cloud-anchor full to port! Set all sails! Helm full to port!"

The Pius turned reluctantly, and bore down on the squat, scarred, and scorched Castel Vigilus. At that moment the fortress seemed to heave, as if drawing it's breath. Then it erupted. A bright orange flame shot up from the main keep, then something deep inside the dying fort seemed to draw every rock in the structure towards it. The ship was now heading straight towards one of the remaining towers, and only yards below, a fiery vortex ate through the fortifications at an alarming speed. The heat was so intense that those sails without alchemical treatment caught fire.

"Blow, you witch-spawned contraption! Blow, or to the Deep with you!"

As if on cue, the inferno below erupted. A massive ball of flame spread outwards, covering the remains of Castel Vigilus in the blink of an eye. The Pius, now less than a musket-shot from the ugly tower that promised to rip her open, bow to stern, was caught in the mighty wave of fire. The blast washed over her hull, lifting her just enough to clear the tower. The scorching air made her sails billow for a few vital seconds, before they caught fire. Both the main and the aft balloon ruptured. The cloud-anchor, now almost flying like a kite, shielded from the worst heat of the blast by the listing ship, barely managed to pull her upright as she hurtled out over the Bay of St. Invictus. Behind her, a massive inferno raged.

Without sails, and with little or no lift, but luckily with her keel beneath her, the Pius hit the water hard. The bow cut deep, and a mighty wave washed over her decks, putting out the fires that threatened to take hold. The fore-mast snapped in the impact and took seven men with it into the murky bay. Rising like a drunken whale from the water, the Pius got air under her once more, before she landed hard again. Something broke inside her, and as the speed carried her forward, she started to list. The helm was unresponsive, and Spearhawk could do nothing but watch as the rocks on the western side of the bay came closer. They had no anchors to drop – everything of weight had been stripped before they set out.

"Brace for impact!"

~o~

The ship lay on her side, half-way out of the water. Her masts were broken, and there was a gaping hole in her starboard side. A hundred yards north on the beach, beneath a large rock, a group of men had set up camp. The many wounded were seen to by the ageing surgeon, Dr. Toombs, and a dozen ragged marines stood watch. Commander Spearhawk lay unconscious in a makeshift tent at the back of the group. Toombs had had to take his left leg, five inches above the knee.

On the other side of the bay the flames were still burning, and someone swore they had seen a dragon flying across the island further north. It had been a strange and graceful creature, long and snake-like, seemingly swimming through the air. On it's back there had been what looked like a small boy in bright yellow robes.

Above the stranded ship and her harrowed crew, another flying creature circled watchfully. The cannons on it's back had already deterred a small unit of cavalry that had become too curious.

Storyteller's note: This is on of the wrap-up posts that will follow after the end of the Pius Chronicles, this one focussing on the cabal's ship, and an important NPC. I really didn't know the fate of Spearhawk or the Pius before I started writing this piece. Actually, must confess I doubted their survival. As for the writing, I'm not all impressed with the prose, and it may well have ended up a tad lengthy, but it had to be written. Its all part of the process of tidying up and tying up the loose ends.

As for Gala the space-whale, the crew didn't want her to have to go up against the demons of Cora, so she was kept away from the mad flight. Her and her crew stayed clear until the Pius beached, then they swooped down to watch over the ship and the stranded men.

[Picture source unknown]

From my shelves: Leviathan

2011-07-04T18:10:00.002-04:00

One of the things that naturally follows...er...precedes moving is packing. While boxing my RPG-books yesterday, I had to stop more than once to leaf through a tome I'd half forgotten. I'll readily admit there are books I probably wouldn't ever remember, should I decide to part with them, but there are also some treasures amongst them. One of these is Grendel's Leviathan. This "post-apocalyptic fantasy battle system" was published in -95, and I assume it never made it big.

I picked it up in a discount-bin sometime shortly after Y2K, not because I wanted a mini-game, but because of the artwork by Adrian Smith. Once I'd read through the fluff-section, I came to like the setting as well. The five factions of the game are dwarves, elves, goblins, humans and orcs. While this is far from innovative in and of it self, these five pieces should illustrate some of what's made me remember Leviathan. The goblins have become my standard go-to-goblins for my fantasy games, and the elves became the First Fallen of Argos. As for the steampunk dwarves, they're just too cool for school.

I did some light looking, and Leviathan-minis are still available, for those of you who have such inclinations.

EDIT: Yup, there's also a blog dedicated to this game. I love the internets.

Chapter: The End of an Era

2011-07-03T19:23:00.002-04:00

Cast: Aegir of the Enæidùn, Mandan Bansl, Gryff Galan, Percival O'Conner, Velimir Tito, Yolander van Zaar, and Toadface. Many NPC's also played a part.

The following takes place between 6 and 21 Undecium, YE 1022.

After the Pius Cabal returned from the Void, having killed Dr. Mörbius, they came to realize that unless the schemes of the Queen of Stars were stopped, all they had done would be for naught. No amount of lesser victories would stem the tide. Evil would triumph, and the fate of mankind would be sealed. But how do you go up against an ancient goddess?

The cabal had long debated the possibilities of killing Caracalla, the Dark Prince, demigod and son of the Queen. The most visible problem here was that he was guarded by the dreaded Arch-nefandus known only as the Painted Man. Other factors in need of consideration were that the Prince was surrounded by other guards, both mundane and highly magical, and on Cora, a fortress island recently conquered by his forces. Lastly, the Queen of Stars' powers of seeing the future made any move against her or her son a dangerous proposition at best.

Making matters more complicated was the fact that as soon as Caracalla's forces left Cora, the invasion of Eria would be on, regardless of whether the leader was dead or not. Many of the horrors that would be let loose would need no liege to tear the Corinthian countryside apart, leaving only terror and death in their wakes.

Setting out to find a way to stop the fall of man, the Pius Cabal set course for the Dark Continent, in hope of mustering a force able to kill Caracalla. The allies they sought to enrol in their mission were the Fire People, a line of mythic humanoids, as much kin to fire as the Wolf Lords are kin to the wolfs. Taking the Pius up, into the highest reaches of the troposphere, the cabal sailed above the unnatural storm that blocked the Straits of Ahriman, and thus managed to reach the camp of the Fire People without harm. Here, instead of finding an army ready to strike, they found one of the few groups still left, after more than 25 years of occupation. Still, Nefreti of the Nera'a received them well, and promised his support.

While camped overnight in the Crimson Desert, two men brought an artifact before the Masters. These two had recently captured a massive bronze cauldron in a raid upon an enemy caravan. Now they wanted someone with more knowledge in matters arcane to take the thing off their hands, before they and their people was found by the agents of the enemy.

That same night, van Zaar led Galan, Bansl, and Prince Aegir on a dream-quest. He hoped to reach the Great Library of Dreams, and there to find the True-name of the Painted Man. The journey was hazardous, and not even van Zaar's Letter of Morfeus bore any weight in the tortured nightmares of those ruled by the Court of Stars. After having crossed the deep ocean in a slave-ship, the party reached the library, but did not manage to find the Name. Instead they discovered an old dream, practically giving them the path to the Painted Man's lair.

The following morning the Queen of Stars struck. As the sun rose above the desert, the heroes sensed a disturbance in reality, and only managed to sound the alarm as the enemy came upon them. Rising out of the sand came Forge-demon after Forge-demon. They tore through the camp, killing the Fire People in droves, and only in front of Nefreti's tent, where the cabal made their stand, were they halted. Van Zaar and Galan attempted to reason with the demon inside the cauldron, but as the battle outside turned in favour of the enemy, they realized that the demon was not of the reasonable sort. To make matters worse, two arch-demons had now joined the assault. The battle was lost.

In their retreat, the cabal managed to save only a handful of the Fire People. Nefreti, one of the last great Lords of the Nera'a, fell with the last of his warriors.

Now the heroes decided to anchor in a shade-realm they had found on their first visit to the Dark Continent. Here they licked their wounds and plotted the next move. The dream-map they had found would take them to Gerem Faït, that much was certain, but that great danger awaited them there was also certain. After lengthy deliberation, it was decided that the magicians would all cast powerful spells on Prince Aegir the Exalted, and he would then sneak into the lair of the nefandus, find the child in which his heart was hidden, and kill it. If nothing else, this would lure the Painted Man away from Caracalla's side long enough for the cabal to strike.

The plan, as it emerged, called for destroying enough of the Dark Prince's forces to make an invasion impossible at this stage, then the Masters would confront him, and reveal two parts of his True-name to him. One of these names were given him by his father, Morfeus, and the other by the Bodhisattva of Time. This, the heroes hoped, would cause Caracalla to turn his anger upon his mother, and if they played it just right, perhaps he would even kill her.

Several other forces stood ready to aid in the attack, and now the cabal committed to to field. First the Battlefleet Hermetica sailed out of the Erian Gap, hoping to draw the Black Ships out, so that a fleet of two thousand ships from Draccia and the Hannuman Caliphate could attack Cora directly. To lead the assault, the heroes turned to Master Lucius Septimus Arachnidus of the Ordo Hermetica. With him as their general, they took their place at the head of the assault fleet.

As they came upon the storm, they could scry the Armada of Forlorn Hope leaving Cora to meet them. They also sensed the dreaded Kraken moving towards them, beneath the storm-whipped waves. Now the blasted cauldron became useful, as they rolled it overboard, breaking the bonds upon the demon, the Warlock O'Conner ordered it to kill Kraken. Then the Pius took to the skies. Below a fierce battle erupted beneath the waves, and the two armadas moved towards each other.

A while ago, Bansl had managed to stop the OUT from detonating an atom-crusher in the Hannuman city of Petra. This bomb was now on board the Pius. The plan had been to ram the ship into the city of Borgen on Cora, thus setting off the OUT bomb. Commander Hawkins, First Mate on the ship, had managed to get the Masters to relent, and he had been given permission to try to save the Pius.

When the island came into view, the magicians all went below decks, and Hawkins took the helm. The Bansl Apparatus that had been providing propulsion and energy until now was taken out, and as the ship started falling towards ground, the magicians teleported to Cora. The last thing Bansl did before leaving ship was to increase it's speed, so that it hurtled towards it's doom with fires licking it's hull.

The original plan had called for Bansl, Tito, and Rupertus to be teleported into the central node inside Castel Vigilus. As soon as the chamber was scryed it was discovered that the node was guarded by five guldamoths. It was decided that they should deploy in force instead, and led by Master Septimus, the war-cabal – the Masters of the Pius, as well as twelve Hermetic war-mages, plus Proxima – teleported into the node-chamber. The Hermetics set up a firewall to shield the cabal, while the rest let loose a storm of arcane fire. Within moments, the demons had been scorched out of reality, and the node captured. Adeptus Rupertus now set about rigging the Bansl Apparatus to feed off the node's considerable Mana-flow, firing it up, and removing the safety-valves. In minutes, it would blow, and hopefully destroy the entire castle.

The Nightmare-demon N'garthl was now let off his leash, and the war-cabal advanced behind the mayhem and confusion left in it's wake. Their goal was Caracalla, and now that they were inside the castle, Galan had no problems scrying out his location.

The Prince of Ashes was on a patio, surrounded by courtiers and body-guards, watching the spectacle of the Pius, surrounded by fire, hurtling towards the city from the heavens. As they watched, he was informed that the Pius Cabal had taken the node, and were fighting their way up from the cellars. Cursed with indecision by his father, the Lord of Nightmares, swift action never came natural to the demigod, yet now he screamed for someone to kill the magicians. Two of his demons immediately took off, as did a large number of courtiers who obviously felt their skill-set was better utilized elsewhere. The heroes chose this moment to confront their target.

When the full war-cabal appeared, all hell broke loose. Toadface turned himself to a giant, then he pierced his tongue with the stinger of a bee soaked in the blood of Bolgen, the god of black rage. The company of Blood Legion was unable to mount any significant resistance, and was violently scattered, the other guards fared no better. As the outcome became clear, Caracalla made a run for it. He did not get far before Bansl bore him down. Defeated, captured, surrounded by a cabal of Masters, the Prince wanted only one thing: his mother. Van Zaar saw this narrow window of opportunity, and urged Galan to seize it. They had a way to reach the Queen of Stars.

When the cabal teleported to Her chambers, the first thing Bansl did was to cut the head of Caracalla, and throw it before the Queen's feet. Toadface, still trapped in Bolgen's rage, managed to stave off the guards, while the rest faced the ten thousand years old, fallen elven queen. Percival was the first to feel her power, as she called him by his name – the same he had foolishly given her over a year ago. As he felt himself drowning in love and desire, he fought back with all he had. It all looked like it would end badly, so Tito again sought to become one with his Lynx-totem. He knew that he needed to be close to death for his soul to become part of the ancient spirit; now he turned his sword around, and fell on it's blade.

The Queen then turned to van Zaar, the handsomest of the heroes. Unable to resist, the clever old spy turned to his years of experience in womanising. This took the Succubus by surprise, and bought Percival and Bansl enough time to fall upon Her with their knives.

Here the Pius Chronicles ended.

Storyteller's note: The moment I think many of us has been dreading came to pass, and I think everyone felt that although we could have wished for more time, the end was one we can live with. I know my feelings are mixed. Regret, relief, denial, you name it. I've even been through a period of rationalisation as well. But it is done.

A few words on the last chapter. First off, this is actually three sessions, wrapped up in one chapter. I think the two previous sessions were important for us as a group to reach some common ground, and to accept the inevitable. Some of my thoughts on that process has been dealt with here under separate posts. In the last sessions, we more or less discarded the Rulebook, and focussed on spinning an end to the tale. Then we got shit-faced drunk.

There are quite a few loose ends left, and some I will deal with in due time. Others will be left alone.

[Picture source: Andy Jones]

"Noen fortjener en god død."

2011-06-30T23:19:00.000-04:00

The Chronicle has been closed.

Evolution: Appendix N

2011-06-30T02:38:00.000-04:00

Continuing on the Evolution-project, this time I'll try to compile a list of reference literature. These books all have elements of what I see fitting in the new age of Argos. Again, this is mostly for my own benefit, as a way of gathering my thoughts, but I can recommend each of the titles listed below.

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is set in the Europe of the Napoleonic Wars. It's world is one where magic exists, but plays a minor role. Up until Jonathan Strange is employed as the General Wellesley's war-magician during the Iberian Campaigns. It's been a while since I read this one, so I may try to revisit it. The reason I'm putting this one on the list is because it takes place in an era similar to the one I may try to emulate in the new age.

1632 is the beginning of a series telling the unlikely tale of a North-American town mysteriously transported back in time, to Germany during the Thirty Years War. The relevance here is the impact the knowledge and technology the futurists bring into the world they now must live in. Due to the involvement of the Outsiders, Argos has some similar concerns. I've read a few of these books, and I'll make a point of reading some more over the next months.

The Clockwork Universe: Isaac Newton, the Royal Society & the Birth of the Modern World is not only the finest non-fiction I've read so far this year, it also deals with several of the issues I am contemplating at the moment. Chief of these are how the people who stood at the watershed between the old and the new world thought, and how were the new ideas received by society. I am still reading this one, but I have already gotten several ideas, not to mention that it is providing me with a very interesting view of the birth of science.

The Age of Wonder: The Romantic Generation and the Discovery of the beauty and Terror of Science covers the age after the The Clockwork Universe, and while I found it somewhat drier than Clockwork, it still deals with some of what I am working with. Both addresses the opening of new paradigms, but this one brushes up on the world preceding the Industrial Revolution. I am still not sure how far, and how fast, I will advance the Erian civilizations, but this book covers what I see as the furthest possible point.

A Brief History of the English Civil War is another book that covers an era of relevance. It is perhaps more relevant for the last couple of decades of Aragonian history, but I think there are elements that applies also to the next generation.

The Thirty Years War: Europe's Tragedy covers what may be one of the worst wars in our history. Civilization virtually collapsed in large parts of central Europe, and Argos' War of Enlightenment is inspired by this war. This is a book I intend to read as soon as I can find an opening.

Geist: The Sin-Eaters is on this list because I'm thinking about including these supernaturals in the Fourth Age. With the god of death gone, and with the Underworld razed by war, the dead are more or less left to fend for themselves. I've not yet read this book, but what I've seen so far intrigues me. I definitely see a niche for the Geists, if not as a playable character-type, then as new additions to the metaphysics. Of all these titles, this is the only one I do not own as of yet.

[Picture source unknown]