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Showing posts with label Renaissance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Renaissance. Show all posts

Thursday, December 27

2018 Clockwork & Cthulhu Campaign in Review


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Aww, The Vanishing Tower now has a holiday tradition! Reviewing the past year's blood-soaked saga of Clockwork & Cthulhu!

What were the top 5 hits of this past year for the longest running roleplaying game I've ever tried? There is so much to choose from, so much ground covered, consequences consummated and reckless adventure pursued... I'm just having a hard time deciding!

#5 You Tube! I know I am real late to the party here and this sure is some low-hanging fruit, but this is a recent development for my group and it has had an immediate impact on my enjoyment of our play. The live streaming and the resultant upload of the video for later review lets me remember important events, catch witty things my players are saying I otherwise miss and appreciate the effect of pacing on everyone's enjoyment of any given session. How else will I never forget -6 Hit Points is not considered being "softened-up" by the players?


#4 PC Death! Not once, but twice! The Scottish outlaw Creigh disappeared through a hole in the wall and Cousin Ralph Norton, a beast of a man, went down during a whirling knife and pistol fight. Player Characters can take more of a beating than the NPC's in my Renaissancegame but I am truly surprised this was the limit of the PC body count for 2018. Dice favored the players more than naught when life and success held in the balance. This puts two regular players on their third character each while everyone else is still on their original. In a long running campaign PC death changes the dynamic of the PC group. Comfortable niches are all but upturned and Players have to reinvent a game personality. I believe it is just enough work to make a player want to keep their existing character. I know as the Keeper I have to make not inconsequential choices on the fly for the introduction of a new character. It is important to not restrain from killing a PC when the dice roll against them just because I got invested in some story elements involving the stand out character. No plot armor allowed!

#3 Splitting the Party! One player went one way, one another, and still others clutched their wounds and looked for a place to lie low. The old OSR maxum of keeping your player group all together during the session must surely be tossed on the junk-heap of gaming history by now. 2018 saw the campaign enlivened with the players finding themselves making split-second decisions and getting cut off from one another. This spawned a couple of bonus sessions and overall made a greater campaign world. This doesn't mean a Keeper does not need to work extra hard on pacing and keeping everyone involved. I did have to schedule seperate sessions and find time for them, but it shouldn't be shied away from in session either. Zak's Frostbitten & Mutilated has a nifty adventure which gives any Game Master an example on how tension and interest can be maintained while splitting the party.

#2 The Birth of the Side Quest into a major Campaign Event! The PC's have gotten up in all manner of conflict with cosmic and local forces that the adventure ground literally squirms with the snakes of complications. Whether or not the PC's pursue their enemies, trouble with an agenda is sure to find them. The Keeper's most useful tool for handling PC's going in unknown directions are random encounter tables customized for the current adventure location. The running and gunning the players did in the streets of Old Yarmouth against alien antagonists and political rivals was all spawned from the fallout from a previous mission. The proper mix of success and setback with random encounters and prepared site locations gave the players complete agency against a backdrop of a responding campaign world. Did I say random encounter tables are essential? You know what fuels great tables? Great adventure content. Involved side quests come across better when you have interesting third party content to use. It is hard to constantly foster entertaining encounters so a smart Keeper will use quality content from others as solid footing to riff off of during live play.



And #1 is the Consummation of the Picaresque.  Sailing to the New World in pursuit of their ever-elusive initial adversary is kind of a big deal. Because it fit for the time period the voyage and the destination continued the campaign world-building. How the PC's arranged passage to the New World was an engaging adventure arc in its own right! The PC's jumped from Yarmouth, Norfolk, on to King's Lynn and then Africa. Each stop gave the PC's a chance to interact with the NPC's and they worked with their environment as they saw fit. Unique outcomes along the way, a hallmark of the picaresque,  will then plant the seeds for future, new adventures.



And that is what has stuck with me for this past year's play. There is one more session of 2018, this Sunday morning. No matter what occurs on the last day of this year 2019 feels like a year of reckoning. For the PC's, for the campaign long unanswered threads- some will be answered. This is right an just and the group has made it so. I wonder what this will bring the body count to?

Wednesday, October 31

Live Session Stream #2 Clockwork & Cthulhu


[EDIT] Corrected the embed settings so the video plays from the blog post.

Enjoying the ability to live-stream my regular game and I'm finding a replay of the session a boon to memory and campaign consistency. This is only the second session recorded, but I've already received fruits from our labors. Specifically in today's session the players found themselves at odds with each other and it was great to go back to the "tape" and figure out where the group cohesion fell apart and the PC's went at each other's throats. So that goes down two thirds in of this nigh on three hour session, about 1:50:00 mark. This is really interesting to me as a referee. For the players it all seemed the frustration with each other was mounting as no easy answer, no easy out, was forthcoming. When another player retorted they didn't trust the other player either I wanted to hold up a placard stating "Roleplaying gold being mined here!" This was awesome sauce.



Playing the session back I got a chance to see the arguments, opinions and stratagems used by the PC's to try and resolve the situation. One of the PC's used influence on NPC's (rather successfully) to try and prevent bloodshed. Another PC wanted to try influence on a fellow PC. Here I said no, no. Between PC's you need to not really on rolls to work things out you have to, you know, role play it. And by no means has the issue been resolved. The repercussions and outcomes from everyone's actions will linger until next game session! Aaand the players didn't take any course of action I anticipated so I was painfully scrambling to put together adventure material as they zigged against my zag. Not to give any spoilers here for my players, but I had an awesome referee moment when I said to myself, "Fuck it, this is where the game is heading!" so I strapped in let the trans-arcana clock tick ever closer to midnight, because this is the OSR baby. We did it all wrong it was so right; split party, threatening and violancing on each other's PC's, the pleading, arguing and fuming. A great way to enjoy morning coffee and get more mileage out of my game material. The game literally runs itself when the PC's are all doing the talking.


Friday, June 15

Homegrown Horror from Clockwork & Cthulhu - a session report


Pardon me, your cruel Keeper, as I add a session report to the tapestry which the good Dr. Norton has been so diligently provided to date. See he is awash in the absolute tumulent of events which have been engulfing the party so I feel it is incumbent upon your host to lend a horror stained hand. 


The following narrative gives only a glimpse of what a portion of the party experienced under Saracenic Hall. There will be more added to this tale. And it may seem a bit disjointed, but before our brave heroes are swept from the board it is appropriate their trials and tribulations should be accounted for;


We're taking the girl?” Tomas nodded to the bound redhead in hand, catching Ralph out of his reverie. Ralph looks around, grabs his lantern from the floor.

Yes.” The house servant resists a bit as the Frenchman pulls her along. She bites her lip as if afraid to raise her voice in protest within the dark subterranean hall. Ralph strides forward down the hall, lantern held aloft, in search of the grinding and piping noise issuing deep within the dark. The passageway is narrow, barely six feet in height so the party must watch their head. Ralph's light reveals the walls are riddled with small holes. The horrid grinding and piping sounds come from these holes, weirdly amplified and the group quickly pushes on.

Ralph is stopped short at the entrance to the next chamber. Their appears to be no floor. Open cells, square pits really, drop into the dark leaving a thin walk of stone, a mere six inch span, to provide a pathway to the outlet on the other side. Holding the lantern high Ralph is able to illuminate the pit before him. Ten feet across and fifteen feet deep, smooth fitted stone walls. Skeletal remains huddled pitifully at the bottom. There are seven in all. The narrow lip proves to be sturdy under Ralph's searching feet.

We walk across, to that exit.” He informs the hostage and the Frenchman.

The corpses, they have been mutilated,” mentions Tomas. In the middle of the room the exiled noble is able to survey four of the pits at once. “They all are missing a foot and a hand. What do you suppose that was for?” 

Ralph, silent and noncommittal as per his way, shrugs. The two warriors instantly come alert at the sound of a grotesque skittering. A clicking of legs and cold chitin as two monstrous ticks descend from the black ceiling, down along the far walls, and gingerly make their way towards the group along the narrow cell rims.

Both Ralph and Tomas give oaths under their breath, each recognizing their precarious footing on such narrow ground. These blasphemous, these ugly, overlarge insects suffer no disadvantage with a multitude of legs. Instinctively they place their female hostage between them. Her bound hands making her defenseless they debated not on protecting her from the gruesome onslaught which was about to spring.

The giant ticks leapt at the pair, savage mandibles spread wide intent on gorging on blood. Tomas struck with his long thin rapier while Ralph made a windmill swipe of his ax. Both warriors were able to land telling blows against the thoughtless insects, large as they may be, but it was Tomas who lost his balance. He tumbled roughly onto the moldering bones at the bottom of one of the pits only to stir up more foul-smelling outsized insects. Tomas desperately clutched at the ear-wig like insect who writhed and strove to snip his head from his neck. The close grapple preventing him from wielding his deadly rapier effectively. Ralph saw nothing for it. He leaped into the pit bringing his booted heels square on the giant insect's back. There was a sickly crunch and the beast lay inert.

I thank you my friend.” That was a tight one.” Tomas tipped his hat to the burly Puritan.

We should leave this chamber”, Ralph replied.

The red haired hostage had an opportunity to escape her captors while they battled in the pit, but she had not. The dark nightmare tunnels had kept her fast to her captures better then any iron cage or chain. Outside the insect infested pit room the tunnel walls turned from stone to natural cavern. A noxious stink was now readily apparent. Like pigs, like a pig sty which had never been cleaned. When the stink came to be almost a physical cloud making the trio's eyes water the tunnel gave way into a cavern. Mewling sounds came from below. They stood on a ledge overlooking rough, rocky ground below. It was packed with moaning, pig-like beasts where the awful stench emanated from. The beasts were revealed in the lantern light as flabby, loose fleshed swine on unnaturally long legs sprouting a gnarled horn from their white skinned faces. Hairless, their long stay in this subterranean sty left the pungent beasts albino white. The ledge the adventurers stood on gave access to the lower cavern via time worn stone steps while an additional tunnel continued on from this horrid stockyard. For stockyard it surely must be. A smooth granite stump projected from the floor of the ledge. Upon it laid boning and skinning knives. Discarded hooves and snouts nearby added to the feted smell. Rats squabbled over bits in the gloom. Hanging on nails banged into the cavern wall dried, pale skins hung drying. 

So the promised pig skins by Mr. Carter. I believe this is where they would come from.” Ralph comments soberly. Tomas wrinkles his brow in confusion. 

“A local leather worker was grousing about Thomas Carter not showing up. Wasting his time and all that. He was hoping to purchase a bundle of pig skins. I think this is what Carter intended to sell.” finished Ralph. The hulking Puritan turned to the Frenchman and handed over his lantern. "I'm going to look for an exit out of here. Maybe there is one in the sty.” 

Both Tomas and Ralph had clocked two exits leading out from the ledge they now stood on. One reintroduced the worked and finished walls they had already encountered while past the skinning block another natural tunnel plunged downwards. Before Tomas could comment Ralph gingerly navigated the worn steps into the sty. The ungainly beasts moaned and bleated but caused not a stir as Ralph pushed down into the far corner of the pit. There was a drainage grate at the lowest point. Wholly inadequate for the amount of filth it needed to filter and the smell at this point made Ralph wretch.

Which way then?” Tomas hollard out. Ralph tugged his chin than strode back up the worn causeway directly to the girl.

Which way out! What is down here? Speak, and be quick.”

Truly I never come here.” gasped the red haired hostage, trembling at the terrible visage and rough handling. “It is forbidden. Our Lord makes requests, but we set table in the manor house and he joins us. Joseph, the groundskeeper, he speaks with Edgar directly. I just see to the house.” Ralph looks to Tomas. 

I suggest the finished passage. A terrible stench comes up from that other tunnel.” Proffers the Frenchman.

I think we should return to my cousin. Tell him what we have found.” Answers Ralph.

Ralph routinely turns to the educated Dr. for direction when events befuddle him. Now deep in the bowels of Saracenic Hall the Puritan soldier starts to feel he is a bit at a loss.

Back we go!” smiles the rakish noble and returns the girls gag, pushing her ahead as the group retraces their steps.

It is not until they recross the pit laden room that they hear a tittering and clattering in a great cacophony. Lantern held out Ralph and Tomas witness a cascade of oily black haired rats boiling out of the holes in the corridor. A horde unimaginable must courses through the underground confines to disgorge such an endless stream of rats. The whistling and grinding were nothing but the echoes of the beasts which scurried through the cracks and sludge deep beneath the wash! A literal tide of rats advanced on them as more and more poured forth from the walls.

Quickly back!” urged Tomas. Ralph hurled his lantern in anger at the swarm. A conflagration erupted amongst the bodies. A foul stench and smoke erupted. The lantern oil spread and squeals of roasting fat of the rats drowns out the terror which engulfs the trio. It was only the hasting flames feasting on the packed horde of vermin which provided the orange light which guided them back to the sty.

Perhaps the finished hall will bring us back around to the others? Tomas proffered. “I don't like the looks of the other.”

Makes no difference I guess. “ Ralph replied. "Retrieve that old torch in the sconce and get it lit. I have no desire to blunder through these halls in the dark."

The passageway here was marked by large rectangle blocks stacked for the walls and ceiling. Archways were trimmed out with thick neo-classical cornice sculpted molding giving the hallway a squat, oppressive and heavy feel. The passageway made several turns to the left and right with no branching halls or doors. Soon though they entered a larger chamber distinct in that it was a room of many archways and alcoves. The thick sculpted trim work was on display around the archways and base molding. Each of the various rooms and alcoves were stacked by dusty, but well made furniture. Tables, chairs, mirrors, candlesticks, bureaus, suits of armor, goblets and flatware. All were piled thick upon each other so that many of the alcoves were nigh impassible. A zig zag course could be made through the middle of the chamber and the men, with hostage in tow, pushed into the cluttered chamber. It was near a small circular end table they notice a light. A pale, cold white light flared from a smooth clear stone. Cards and other parlor games were also stacked on the table and moldering carpeted chairs. The cobwebs were noticeably absent in this spot as if it was regularly used. The house girl in tow rolled her eyes wildly and appeared frighten. Before Ralph could interrogate her further another woman appeared as out of air. Tomas could swear, later, she definitely drifted into the room, but truth be told the rooms felt totally empty, and then she was there. A mature woman, not terrible to look at, very pale and blond. Her hair seemed so fragile and light that it floated on an unfelt breeze. Her dress was horribly out of date, the obtuse Norton could even see this. The fashion-conscious Frenchman was appalled at the dried, crusty brown stain on her bodice.

Have you brought food?” she questions the group. “Food would be nice...” her nails drag across one of many stacked end tables. She looks through each of party members if they were nothing but so much gossamer. When her gaze lands on the house maid they come alive and joyfully exclaims, 

“Rebecca, is that you? It has been so long. I last saw you but as a child. We could play a game. You remember Dame Fortune's Folly? We must play, I have the cards right here.” The haughty lady literally trilled she seemed so pleased.

Of course m'lady as you wish.” the house maid answered, visibly shaken and despairing.

Your friends must play as well, you will join us won't you? The game plays best with four.” She whirls in speech drilling down on Tomas and Ralph.

Sure.” They agreed.

The group sits upon dusty chairs and the woman moves aside an antique chess set and some silver forks. She asks Rebecca to fetch the pale crystals which offered a clear white illumination to the immediate surroundings, leaving much outside the circle of the table in darkness. While there were many candle sticks and lanterns available in the clutter none seemed to have been used, no wax candles or oil was to be seen.

You will be dealt two cards face up. You will then have a choice to wager on the chance of the next card landing between the two face up cards value. If your cards are say a 2 and a 6 you will require a 3,4, or 5 to collect on your wager. If you pass on the wager you will face the Dame’s fortune or folly, which is decided by this third card which your wager would have been decided on. The fall of the cards will also tell a story, some even say the sensitive are able to hear their future predicted in the story played. Oh, and of course, if you wager it must be something of value. I don’t want your dusty hat or stained wine skin.” The women explained all this breathlessly, shuffling the cards rapidly and fussing with the playing surface. Looking directly at Ralph she played two cards in front of him. A four of clubs and a nine of diamonds.

A warrior continuing a battle, one which calls on all your strength and endurance. Will the goal be accomplished? Will there be a rest from action?” The strange lady in the stained dress pours over the upturned cards. “Much like the legend of Sir Galhalt and the Iron Siege. Shall you wager, or tempt the Dame’s fortune?” she asks Ralph.

I will wager.”

What do you have to offer?”

Ralph pulls out his hatchet and pries several gems embedded on the handle. They click onto the table and roll across the cards. The lady circles the brilliant stones with a long finger.

Very well young knight, I accept your wager,” she coos.

A five of hearts is turned and the lady tells the tale of Sir Galhalt and his tragic end. Both Ralph and Tomas fall adrift in her oratory. While her tale ends with the turning of the card both men feel as if they have traveled on an epic journey and endured the hardships Galhalt suffered. Ralph feels as if the blood in his veins has been leeched out and replaced with ice water. He comes out of his fugue with the lady congratulating him on his win. She rummages about the stacked ornaments and books next to her and pulls forth a golden buckle trimmed with small diamond-like crystals. She presents it to Ralph.

To the victor.” She hands Ralph the buckle, wipes her chin and presents two new cards to Tomas. “Jack of Spades and Eight of Hearts. The rebel, playing naught for love but a cause. Long discarded emotional attachment it seems you now must make a hard choice.” She looks at the Frenchman expectantly.

Dame fortune's folly,” he answers without hesitation.

The Candle.” she smiles. “A flickering light in the darkness...” 

Once again the turning of the third card takes but an instance but the men feel transfixed within an ancient ballad of heroes, dark forests, and lost love. Coming out of their revere Ralph is first to notice the change. With a horrified gasp he yells “Tomas!” pointing. 

Sprouted like a mushroom in the rain a thick, short-haired tail curls from Tomas' backside, to the floor and back up twitching near his head.

By the three beards of the drunken lady I have a tail!” gasps Tomas.

The lady claps her hand in obvious delight. Ralph explodes into action.

Sorcerous!” he yells, grasping his axe, he rears back to split her skull.

A look of rage consumes the lady's face, her eyes go black, and she hisses like a scalded cat. Before Ralph's arm can come down she moves with blinding speed. In a blink she is behind Ralph lifting him out of his chair. Shirt and flesh split open as long yellow claws splash Ralph's blood in a spray to the ceiling.

Ralph groans from the gruesome blow and falls to the floor. The lady, panting, looks to drive both long nailed hands deep into his body, but Tomas leaps to his fallen comrades aid.

Stand back hell spawn!” he screams. His rapier darting and slicing at the demon witche's face she steps back, then backhands the Frenchman and sends him sprawling into a pile of chairs like he was a paper doll. She looks down, drooling in her blood lust intent of scooping out Ralph's guts. But the Frenchman's desperate attack gave the grievously wounded Puritan soldier time to roll under the table to the other side. Laying on his back bubbling gore he deftly lights a grenado, the wick cut short by his gritted teeth, and tosses it at her chest over the table. There is a stunning blast which leaves the men concussed.

Eventually they come to their feet from under the blasted furniture and gimjacks. Surely there must be something left of the she beast, but lo, there is nothing to be seen except the sturdy groined walls and archways and the destruction of housewares from the blast.

The girl Rebecca was clearly dead. Her broken body lay over a crumpled armorie. Splintered shards of wood protruded from her chest, neck and face. She must have been standing when the grenado detonated. But no trace of the demon whore could be found. There were some scraps of cloth that may have been from the dress she wore, but there was no flesh, no blasted body parts.

It was a deft toss Ralph,” the Frenchman acknowledged. “It was like she cared little for your bauble and then whoosh!” Tomas flutters his hands in the air simulating the blast.

We must find my cousin. He needs to know the dangers we face here.” Ralph winces as he makes his way back from which they came.
Perhaps, being a doctor, he can tend your wounds?” Tomas adds looking at Ralph's exposed back. The man's flesh hangs in ribbons, dripping blood with each step. Tomas grabs up one of the light radiating stones and follows after the bloodied puritan warrior.

Back at the subterranean sty Ralph muses. “Nothing but to take the last remaining passage, foul smell and all. Perhaps it will lead back to the passages the others took.”

The pair picked their way carefully down the natural cavern away from the sunken sty packed with the pale pig-like creatures. The passage was slick with moisture and a few squabbling rats. Fortunately the horde they encountered by the room of square pits had not come all this way otherwise all would have been lost. The further they traveled through the more foul, wet and steep the way became. 

Tomas was in the lead holding the illuminating stone aloft when Ralph, weakening from his wounds, lost his footing and slid rapidly down the incline colliding with the surprised Frenchman. They tumbled roughly gathering speed and landed with a lurid splash in a mud and fecal laden pool. It was a separate tunnel they had fallen into. The opening of the tunnel in which they were traveling was at shoulder level returning upwards in such a sharp angle Ralph just shook his head when Tomas suggested he could boost his companion back up the way they had fallen. This new tunnel ran straight and apparently level. A stream of foul, stinking water flowed in one direction, so there was at least a slight incline to the passage. Ralph groaned under the pain of his wounds. Tomas hollered as a pale, grotesque worm rises from the foul pool, wrapping around his leg and climbing up his chest. 

It was a horridly large maggot, grown fat off the refuse of rat, pig, and offal. Its eyeless head ended in a sucking maw ringed with small, saw-like teeth. Tomas grasped the thing with both hands desperately trying to keep the carrion beast from latching onto his face. Ralph swung quickly, reopening his coagulating cuts. The sharp hatchet sliced through the beast's neck, the decapitated head flying off the cavern wall and into the muck. Tomas dropped the now dead maggot in time to pull his pistol. Another giant horror had risen from the pool and looked to bury its snapping maw into Ralph's raw back. The report of the wheelock echoes down the fetid tunnel. The Frenchman's aim was true, and the pistol's lead round obliterated the head of the maggot. It's convulsing body flops back and is submerged into the muck.

Enough of this hell Ralph. Lean on me and I will lead us out.” Tomas' agitation and worry was magnified by his thick animal tail swishing back and forth behind him.

But which way? I despair of ever leaving this horrid place.”

We'll trust to the lord, and our resolve,” answered Tomas. “I say we follow the stream as opposed going up. Methinks this is the drain for the sty above.” 

Ralph shrugs. On the edge of blacking out from blood loss he had little strength left to argue or think.

It seemed like an eternity, but the pair emerged eventually from the tunnel into a sharp sided hillock. A marshy stream crossed the opening carrying the effluvia further into the thick reeded meadow. Trees on firmer ground gave the gully deep shadow in the late afternoon sun.

We must return to the manor.” Ralph rasped. “We must hope our companions find a way out as well. We will need to assist them if the Irish mob still prowls the grounds.”

Very well. The ground is difficult, but I will continue to aid thee.”

An hour later the sweaty, shit stained heroes collapsed among the tall, unkempt grass at the rear of the manor. It was obvious the fire the good doctor had started within the hall had not taken for Saraceninc Hall still stood with no sign of damage or smoke. It was also obvious the house staff and laborers were still on their guard. Stirred like a swarm of angry bees they moved about between the house and the cottages farther back.

What do we do now?” asked Tomas.

We wait.”

Tuesday, May 29

A PC is Killed and I Find it Refreshing

The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. - Thomas Jefferson


The PC's had chosen their fate. Three paths of adventure I layed before them and they argued, debated and settled on a course of action. I had lightly prepped each course of action ahead of time so I would have baked-in player agency. Mostly being; if I am using one cool idea on this track, and different ideas on the other the player's choice actually makes a difference. It forces me to stretch my imagination to come up with different themes, locations and adversaries. One way to overcome the face-melting monster is not encounter the face-melting monster. It is also fun to come up with choices which have subtle and not-so-subtle possibilities and opportunities. The game is Clockwork & Cthulhu so the choices are not as easy as deciding which will net the greatest haul of treasure. The PC's have cultivated relations within the campaign and I like to think their choices are being made upon in-game motivation originally instigated by themselves. I only have to serve up grim opportunities of death and terror, the PC's take care of the rest.


It also makes the death of a Player Character "easier" on myself. I want my players to enjoy themselves and I want the "good" guys to win, but I don't want it easy and I want misfortune to befall them because the trail is hard and the dice impartial. By gosh if a PC is laid low, takes that last earthly breath choking on a confluence of their own blood I want the blame to be laid at the feet of the adventure, not a rail-roady GM gloating over getting one over on their players.

PC's built on the Renaissance system look pretty robust on paper. This is tempered actually by the fact the NPC's end up just as tough. I'm using one of the optional NPC rules to give the PC's better chance surviving combat damage than their adversaries. Basically if they damage an NPC who is in negative Hits it is a kill. If they cause a Major Wound which takes an NPC into negative Hits I roll a Grave Wound instead of Severe. 

In this last episode which resulted in a character death the party had survived their encounters with the big bads and through their judicious use of guts and wit achieved their goal and were set to move on to the next horrible situation complete with concerns and loose ends. The group was worse for wear, and feeling the pinch of time pressure lets just say getting stuck on a boat for three weeks, even if financed by a satanic sorcerer, seemed like a welcome break. But they got into a fight. This was going to happen. Maybe if they pushed on through the night, no I would have had the encounter. Sometimes you just need to have a guy with a gun come in the room. Granted this "guy" stepped into a bear trap the PC's had laid out so there was one NPC buggered from the start. Pistols, axes and clubs, Cut-throats and oaths! It was four on three, the enemy had numbers as well as higher Close Combat skill than any of their opponents they have crossed yet. The NPC's gun combat was kind of shitty, but the dice are cruel. One of the NPC's did miss with hand to hand attacks, three 99's in a row, but still a PC went down with a knife to the heart.

What is refreshing is the game turns on the play of the PC's and now relationships and dynamics are in flux. I like to think a PC has meaning in the game when their special light can be snuffed out at the turn of a die. From my end of the table I see players going from ah shit I need to make a new character to cool I can try something else. Then comes the work of slotting the FNG into the existing group, the current band of brothers, which have soldiered together for years. Doesn't matter they all have been playing together for years, their new PC is still the FNG. 

Sunday, March 4

Turning a page in Clockwork & Cthulhu

The PC's settled their affairs with the Pale Lady's Trans-Arcana penetration into the material plane off the coast of Great Yarmouth this morning. Hero and Improvement points were awarded and they returned to Norton Manor, the now defacto headquarters of these secret agents of Parliament known as C.l U. B., the Clockwork Underground Bureau. One PC death was incurred during this four week (game time) adventure arc and one PC was ordained into the order of Righteous Soldiers, a recognition of his single-minded willingness to deliver death to enemies of the Parliamentary cause. 

For some reason I feel wiped out. Drained. Not that any of the sessions were any "harder" than the rest to run. More that it feels like I have wrung much imaginative juice from this mortal frame to fuel the campaign world. This is with using published adventure material as well. It certainly helped with the heavy lifting of world building. This is also a gaming first for me; a long running campaign. It is deeply satisfying and my belief that under all the entertainment value easily recognizable with TTRP'ing is a legitimate art form is validated.

As the game moves on to another chapter the challenge is clear; continue doing what I am doing, but make it BETTER. What does better mean? Now is not the time for me to come up with the answer. I need to reflect, drift and daydream now. Running a campaign is both a marathon and a sprint. Twenty four miles of fascinating road, some of it has to be run fast, uphill, both ways. On the surface TTRPG's are simple. It taps into the incredible enjoyment from oral storytelling and group collaboration. One thing leads to another, la-de-da la-de-da.

I've learned custom random tables for your world and setting are a godsend for the flagging mind during a session. Hacking published materials with your own ideas relieves the burden of coming up with the endless stream of NPC's needed in your world. I've also discarded the idea that the system really matters. I think when folks are having lovely flame wars over different systems and different editions it is a deflection from how demanding being a game referee is if you want to do it well. Most people don't want to face up that they may suck and they need to make changes. It is sooo much easier to say the system is broken, or it doesn't do this or that well. Rubbish. Here is my analogy to try and make my point; the fine art known as painting has three components. Color, texture and shape. Pigment on the end of a stick is applied to a flat surface. That is it. But from simple ingredients the bottom of this form has never been reached. Some who really want to be a painter won't make it because they will suck. "It wasn't for me." "I like photography better." folks may say as they flit through mediums looking for recognition. I've found it is better to soberly recognize your ability, and figure out for yourself what success looks like. For me it is to challenge myself to do better. Don't get hung up on results. Pursue with dogged determination and be open to the surprise of invention. You are conquering fear, nothing more, nothing less.  

So after this little stream of blathering thought here is my ask; when you feel drained from the work and fear you can do no better what do you do to get geared up to viciously attack your old way of doing things and blow your mind with the next discovery with your long running campaign?



Sunday, January 28

Norton & Goodman together again…

One of my regular players could not make last weeks regularly scheduled game. Going on over two years of online play he has never missed a session so he is involved in like everything which has happened to date. During the previous session when the good Dr. Thomas Norton last played he ended up getting separated from the party so being absent didn't force any hand-waving to explain his absence. Still, with vacation coming up here at the end of the week another regularly scheduled session was going to be scratched leaving the next live session not until February 18. Damn, just too darn long for my tastes. What to do, what to do…


I decided on an off week bonus game session. It would focus on the activities of the Dr. until he was able to rejoin the party proper. This would also give me a chance to let a previous regular player jump in for a session since, no fault of his own, he had to change his schedule like last year and could no longer make the live sessions.

Without going into a detailed session report, okay, a mildly detailed session report, I have to say I really like splitting the party and having action happen “off-screen” to the rest of the party. Time commitments are the only thing holding me back from doing this ongoing, but getting in another session covering mushrooming campaign action was a blast. First, I get a bigger game world with multiple courses of action occurring. Second, it gives me practice towards accomplishing my ultimate role-playing goal. I'm sure this has been done before, but I would like to have different campaigns with different players meet up in special cross-over sessions much like Elric would run into manifestations of himself in the multiverse. This means I would have tangential relations to the major world changing effects/enemies in each of the different campaign worlds and players who previously didn't know anything about the other game would find themselves face to face with PC's they've never encountered before, even possibly playing a completely different game system then the other party. Something uniquely doable with online play.

But on this night of January 19, 1646 in Great Yarmouth the gasping, spent Dr. is urged on by his old Puritan soldiering grognard companion Saul Goodman coming out of the gloom. Recently returned from a secret mission on Zeal's behalf he immediately searched for Dr. Thomas Norton when finished debriefing. Norton had split from his badly wounded companions in the hopes of keeping the escaping Xaxus/Martyn, the current villainous threat, and his loaded wagon in sight.

Random rolls established how long before the pair located the now abandoned wagon and we got underway. This is where I hoped to channel some of those great city pursuit adventures. A bit of Carlito's Way, The Matrix Reloaded, Collateral, Bourne Identity, etc. was what I had in mind for the session, but this is 1646. What kind of sexy, neo-noir, dangerous urban challenges does a cold night in the golden age of dysentery have to offer our ruthless duo? What would actually be interesting to encounter but not seem like utter rubbish? Going to the historical record has been really useful for my game prep. One, I know “bollocks” about this period of time, and two, +James Raggi has built his successful line of game adventures on this time period so this tells me there are plenty of real horrible tales to be told from such a record. Still the question stands, what is their to do in a town like Great Yarmouth when street lights haven't even been invented yet?

The abandoned wagon provided a rather staid opening for session start. I spiced it up with some hanger-ons drinking and fornicating among the ransacked goods. This gave the PC's their first chance to pick up the trail. Their target left with one of the locals and they got a direction. The next possible encounter was a Puritan mass for some of the destitute locals. While there target was not here I provided another clue from a parishioner. What made it interesting? I poached descriptions from the beginning of Moby Dick. Ishmael's night wanderings in Nantucket can provide great sights, sounds and smells of an active fishing town. Sexy? In the eye of the beholder. But its Melville, the guy can write. You would have to be one of Dr. Norton's patients not to respond somehow to what he is laying down. So this encounter gets the PC's some more concrete location information and they make their move. I couldn't find any “historical” record of my next location, I made it up, but it was time to put out my 1646 disco ball! An illicit “tea” shop serving up the new rage from the New World; coffee and cocaine! Complete with a tuned-up accordion player and upscale clientele. I'm a big fan of random encounters and I rolled a Doctor, a Dr. Howy Brass, as the random NPC the villain would encounter here. I rolled this ahead of time during my session prep. This gives me time to ask myself the usual questions; "Why would Xaxus find this person interesting/useful?", "What would such an encounter lead to?". This would be my plot hook to hang my alien god on so I wanted it to be satisfying, make sense and offer opportunities to kill PC's. Back to historical research. What fucked up things could your average Paracelsan physician get up into? I came away from google with Distillation Furnaces and Boyle's Law. Click, click, click. So we have coked out monied gentleman, one experimenting with purifying the mind of ill-humors and a desperate alien entity looking to convert as many people as possible to his cause as willing slaves, hmm….

I won't bore you with any more details. Suffice to say this provided plenty of activity and action for the PC's to engage with and let the bloody chips fall where they may. And it left me feeling, split the party? Hell yeah!

Sunday, January 21

LotFP off the Shelf, again!

Today's game session had the PC's leaving the city proper hot on the heels of an adversary. I was prepared for the PC's to get bogged down in more street to street action but the random encounter I rolled gave them a slight advantage and they were able to allude the major confrontation which threatened them at session start. With increased freedom of movement the action quickly outstripped any prep I had done. Going on vacation soon so truth is I really did no prep for today's game.

We are playing Renaissance but I include many LotFP adventure modules in which to build my fantasy English Civil War world on. I'm not too worried about spoilers here because I chop up all the published materials I use to obfuscate what will come next. These are all seasoned gamers and have tons of time in CoC adventures so I know I have to work to keep things interesting. Including making encounters mysterious even if the players have read the material.


Saying I did no prep is not actually correct either. Because I like to purchase quality stuff that meant I had just what I needed on my shelf. Scenic Dunnsmouth was about to see its first game in live fire!

Now this adventure module by +Zzarchov Kowolski  is not one to use unread. But I had read through the module when I initially bought it and even used the built-in prep sequence to see what I had. Therefore I had some idea how I was going to use the content. I just didn't remember it all. What I did know was the module was filled with detailed NPC's and locations and should give me enough hooks and seeds to keep the hunt lively. The trick is what to cut away. Not every NPC can be a psychotic nut-job devil worshiping cannibal. Not every location can be fraught with danger, otherwise “suspension of disbelief” gets eroded and the campaign's uniqueness is diluted. This just makes the module the center of attention, not the PC's. The other trick is to deftly incorporate the ongoing game events the players are concerned with seamlessly with the written material in front of me. So the events don't seem forced or the PC's feel shoehorned into situations and their agency has been stripped away.

Scenic Dunnsmouth performed admirably. I was able to scan locations quickly and decide what would be encountered first. Followed by the laundry list of NPC's I could populate encounters with vivid personalities. This gave the PC's buttons and levers to push, get some environmental feedback as they figure out what to do. This also gives me time to make picks. Who is false, what are the dead ends, and where would the big bad go in this situation. I'm not saying walls of text and endless detail are what is found inside. No, just that Kowolski provides people and places which are interesting. With my random name generator I made earlier I was able to use the tried and true technique of changing names. But not always. Because in the rush of gaming I sometimes forget which name was assigned to which NPC. Peoples & Places and Miscellania were the two sections of Scenic Dunnsmouth I relied on the most. PC's got folks to interact with, their suspicious of everything which moves, I got only forty more minutes of game time to fill…

I don't want to make it sound like my whole game is one random table after another, but random tables are an essential tool to keep me from bogging down. Consistently LotFP adventures have given me these essential ingredients; 1. Interesting stuff for PC's to engage, and 2. Interesting stuff for me, the Game Master, to mull over and what it could mean for the PC's future fortunes.

I also don't want to make it sound that whatever comes off the LotFP press is useful to me. If adventure material does not fit my vision I'm not going to use it in the game. My players deserve more than just filler. But as I run more games not in the dungeon, without those reliable thick walls to contain a session's activities, I find this companies output gives me stuff to use immediately which interests me at the table as well as my players. This is also the easy part. Now things are set in motion. Now I need to drill down into my ideas and my originality to tie what was started by the PC's together into horrible climaxes where all hangs in the balance!


Sunday, December 24

2017 Lamentations of the Flame Princess Clockwork & Cthulhu Campaign in Review

The shared campaign notes document is four pages long now. Player generated session reports are over 64,000 words. The campaign since it started covers five weeks of activity. This has taken 22 months of gaming with a live session every other week. Sometimes a month can go by without a game happening because of life. Either way the players have covered much ground and there has never been a let up on the action. The group of four core players is down to three with a fourth able to play infrequently. Sometimes we have five. There has been a total of three PC deaths, countless of NPC's of course.

The second year of BRP Cthulhu & Chivalry opened with the PC's trying to unlock the secrets of Constine Mallebench and ended with plans to storm a tavern to apprehend an alien god.

Here are the top five highlights of this year's action from your Keeper's perspective:


#5. Taking Advantage of Norton Manor: With the Senior Norton chasing his fancy back to Keswick and the Dr.'s bedridden mother laying close to catatonic the rest of the PC's did not let the Norton's crumbling fortunes deter them from enjoying the upscale digs. After the trail of gore and horror just endured, and more danger sure to be faced, the PC's counted a quiet evening at home a win. While typical wisecracks of using the “#1 Son” coffee mug, scraping blood and brains off their boots, using the monogrammed robes carried round the table made for memorable levity it was the indicated small release of tension among the Players which was most gratifying. This meant the game wasn't stale and there were still many more good adventures left in the campaign.


#4: To Kill A Mime: I love collateral damage. I like supers roleplaying for the implications of collateral damage at scale. Our Cthulhu & Chivalry world is but a background of literal collateral damage. War, famine, plague terrorize civilians country wide. Chaos and confusion are the order of the day. So it takes something exceptional to happen to make me notice any one death among many. Or just mimes. Are they the gnomes of seventeenth century alt-history gaming? When the PC's survived a street ambush and the smoke cleared we had mimes bleeding out and dying. The PC's promptly ignored their suffering and looked to the well being of other wounded bystanders forever establishing if “Street Entertainers” are rolled up for an encounter and they end up getting shot make them mimes if you want to hurry things along. My point is, what I find important about this bit of gaming goodness was that it was a procedurelly generated event. I enjoy being a game master because I get to world build and constantly pose the question of “What if… ?” to myself in fantastical context. But much of my enjoyment also comes from letting the PC's actions dictate what will be. Taking the great information being shared here in the Google+ OSR I've learned to use random tables for oh just about everything now. Name generators, encounter tables, reaction results. Published and homemade. Injecting random stuff and trusting the PC's will make something of it has been a real big learn for me. It gives me enthusiasm to muster more “stuff” for the PC's to do because I know each session is going to have as much surprise for myself as the players.


#3: Dr. Norton's Yarmouth Chronicles: I know it isn't great literature but the continued writings of the PC's of their trials not only is a fun read, but preserves vital world info I would otherwise forget. The in-game time has only been a month and a half. The voluminous testimony of events as they occurred reveals how chock full of “stuff” we cluttered the campaign with. Items or incidents which were thought of as bits of color now may be the source of entire adventure arcs. I'm sure our group has a better game as a result of these records.


#2: Inky Pete at the Asylum: Another randomly generated encounter which provided much more game than expected. Taking a cue once again from information and tips shared online I have a much better approach to making my own encounter tables. It basically boils down to a simple question; “If I roll it do I want to run it?” There goes all sorts of “normal” encounters I might reflexively generate for a game, or use from a published supplement. When I create a random encounter table for a session I now trust whatever comes up is going to be fun for myself as well as the players. If I don't want the PC's to encounter wolves in the woods don't put them on the random encounter table! And I don't mean every random encounter is pregnant with meaning or significance, but the idea is it is worth talking about and gives players “stuff” to do. This is a good place to point out how often I use Vornheim: The Complete City Kit. I did not know how to run urban adventures, at least to my liking. This book not only has content I find interesting and useful, the whole structure of the book is instructive on how I can make the same. This means Vornheim is probably the first truly “universal” game supplement I've used fulfilling on the promise.


#1: The Badger's Drift Bear Trap: Simple, effective and truly inspired from the roots of my early OSR upbringing. What I enjoyed most about this encounter was how ordinary items produced a harrowing, memorable danger. As any good accident points out it isn't just one thing that gets you. It is the layering of consequences from seemingly minor threats which begin to spell d-o-o-m in player's mind. When you can pull it off it is justly earned referee glory. Fantasy games accent the fantastical. So much so actually frightening your players can seem nigh impossible. The feeling of discomfort and disfunction sometimes has to be mechanically enforced on players because of the distance created by the game's fictional devices. Call of Cthulhu being an obvious, and successful, use of mechanically enforced fear. Therefore with the PC's unbalanced by a simple trap hidden in the snow and simple woodland animals (Yes, now wolves are interesting!) an ordinary skirmish quickly rose to deadly stakes at the same time confounding expectations.

There are many more, but I want to limit myself to just a few events which were a direct result of all the tips learned here on Google+ and the OSR online community. As the group closes out another year of entertainment I promise there is much more to come because there is so much more to come from the DIY OSR creators!