Mental constipation is a bitch.
Fighting Fantasy is not a setting. It is a series of unrelated stories forced to live together, the act creates tension. The tension is where the game is. Bespoke settings lack this, replacing it with accidental or deliberate synergy. Tension resolved, game less fun.
Mechanics in games should be be tidy. Individually beautiful. One should be able to look at the interlocking system and appreciate how pretty it is but also how to take it apart.
Copyright is very complicated. Handle professional advice or discussions of morality by ignoring it when it gets in the way of a good idea.
Settings should leave gaps. The space between places is magic. Maps are inimical to exploration.
Ignorance is fun. Game from the position of an outsider. Create a setting from the perspective of unravelling a strange and dangerous world. Give them Sigil, the literal hub of the wheel, and let the centrifugal action of curiosity take them outwards. Make the experience magical by being ignorant of the truth. Create as you go, focus down to the ground and ignore the big picture. As you explore more elements are added that do not fit. Tension is created.
Point buy systems are terrible.
Death is less fun than an ignoble retirement.
The best dungeon is a room with a box that says "Do Not Touch"
An atmosphere of lightness is lubricant for running your mouth to interesting places. Jokes are often genius creations. The desire to create laughter in others makes us create harder. Horror is funny. Transgression is funny. Horror games aren't real.
Jokes live or die by much harsher standards than precious dour creation. They are therefore stronger.
Have a healthy disinterest in tempo. Genius appears in the gaps.
Don't publish a setting. Publish how you arrived at the setting you didn't publish.
Any novel is better and more useful than a setting book.
Separation of player and GM is desirable. Either side of the wall tends its own garden.
Selling RPG literature is hard. It is much easier if you don't count and pay more. Marketing is a colonial invention.
Is wearing armour a skill?
Blaaaark. Ok, I'm done.
Showing posts with label sorry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorry. Show all posts
A Ramble and a Fumble
The thing about blogs is that they're the third tier of mental effluence, some way down after respectable book worthy things and shorter zine-flavoured items. Third tier. Still a good tier though. Still better than screaming at pigeons from a park bench or social media. I'm not saying you should thank me, but you might want to consider it next time.
So today's work is more MECHANICS*. Specifically a response to my earlier work on being stabbed.
Originally I had split armours into three categories, each absorbing damage according to the roll of the dice. 1d6 2d6 3d6. I have since gone back and changed it to 1d6 1d8 1d10, since the original numbers were imitating the effects of the old AC system too well, being almost as slow. Combine this slow decline of HP with how I'm managing that kind of thing and it leads to slow fights.
So, the related changes and amendments in my home games as they stand:
*On a number of occasion people have told me that it's properly called mechanisms. Feels ugly in the mouth.
So today's work is more MECHANICS*. Specifically a response to my earlier work on being stabbed.
Originally I had split armours into three categories, each absorbing damage according to the roll of the dice. 1d6 2d6 3d6. I have since gone back and changed it to 1d6 1d8 1d10, since the original numbers were imitating the effects of the old AC system too well, being almost as slow. Combine this slow decline of HP with how I'm managing that kind of thing and it leads to slow fights.
So, the related changes and amendments in my home games as they stand:
- Armour comes in three types — light, medium and heavy —and absorb 1d6, 1d8 or 1d10 damage.
- Shields bump the die size up one. d6 on their own, d12 with heavy armour.
- HP are equal to Con, unless you are a fighter. In which case double it. These can only be raised/lowered by a shift in Con score.
- Criticals and fumbles are a thing (1s and 20s)
- You heal fully — excluding any permanent injuries — with 8 hours rest (or whatever a magic user needs to get their spells back. Symmetry!)
The only significantly interesting change is fumbles and criticals. These are both enjoyable little things that have been missed, taking with them the little dramas that play out when the dice clatter about.
20s always hit, always ignore armour (stab 'um in the eye), and get a roll on the Serious Injury Table regardless of actual HP loss
1s always miss, and must roll on the Fumble table below.
- You dropped your weapon you nelly. Go fetch it.
- What cowboy made this weapon? The damn thing just snapped!
- There was a tussle, limbs and moves getting thrown about, and your enemy somehow ended up in possession of your weapon. Nice going Errol.
- You were over enthusiastic and managed to twat one of your allies with your misplaced attack. Deal damage as normal to them, they may roll armour. If you try to weasel out of it by claiming no one is near enough, assume it flew out of your hand and across the room. If there is still any doubt feel free to brutally stab yourself in the gut, you clumsy sausage.
- Shoddy footwork. Save vs. paralyse or fall prone and feel rather embarrassed and possibly dead.
- An energetic lunge causes you to rip your trousers, distracting you at the last minute. Miss your attack but otherwise suffer no more than needing to find a needle and thread.
- There's something in your eye. You miss and get -1 on all attacks until you take a turn to dig it out.
- A serious case of deja vu sets in and discombobulates you. Miss and everyone gets +1 to hit you until your next turn.
- You bowl into your opponent, forming a complicated tangle of limbs. You're now wrestling and they count as having pinned you already. Tap out!
- You turn what was looking to be a comical pratfall into a devastating blow, just as if you meant it all along. Roll for a serious wound on your opponent, but get showered in their blood or equivalent vital fluids. -1d6 to hit for the remainder of the fight as it gets in your eyes and ears and nose and eeuw.
- OH SHIT HE STABBED YOU. Free hit, no armour. Ouch.
- OH GODDAMNIT, NOT AGAIN. Your opponent takes this opportunity to stab you good and proper, plus you should probably roll on here again.
*On a number of occasion people have told me that it's properly called mechanisms. Feels ugly in the mouth.
Complements Do Not Help
Weird is easy. Art is easy. Horror and comedy are easy. All the same.
When a thing stops being alive it falls prey to ridicule.
The mechanical encrusted upon the living.
He falls over, laugh.
He kills, fear him.
He is rendered, nod.
He hides the gills with high collars, how odd.
Repetition:
Iterate.
Oscillating humour. It comes and goes with time.
Kill once and you're a murderer, kill many and you're exciting.
Paint him again, capture him.
Erode the security of knowledge.
And if it fails, if you cannot manage that, dazzle them with finely wrought chaff.
When a thing stops being alive it falls prey to ridicule.
The mechanical encrusted upon the living.
He falls over, laugh.
He kills, fear him.
He is rendered, nod.
He hides the gills with high collars, how odd.
Repetition:
Iterate.
Oscillating humour. It comes and goes with time.
Kill once and you're a murderer, kill many and you're exciting.
Paint him again, capture him.
Erode the security of knowledge.
And if it fails, if you cannot manage that, dazzle them with finely wrought chaff.
Books as remembered (poorly) by me, Part 1
I like talking about books, so I'm going to do that for a while. You could call what I'm about to do an Appendix N, but let's not. That term holds no meaning to me, I never saw the Appendix N when it came out and only learnt about it from other people whispering about it in corners. Spurred on by their hushed tones I found a digital copy of it and was shocked at how tiny and narrow it was. It's called a bibliography.
So here's part 1 of my annotated bibliography. I'll spare the waffle and just serve the meat.
Gene Wolfe looms large in my lizard brain. Where there should be fight or flight responses and the urge to feed and fuck, I have the need to be Gene Wolfe.
Latro in the Mist
Wizard Knight
All of these books are written as artefacts, two diaries and one long letter. All have unreliable narrators. Severian in Book of the New Sun is moving through a world that is as weird as anything on Dying Earth, yet we aren't given a proper look at it because that's just how it is for Severian. Everything is filtered through someone to whom this is normal or only slightly odd, leaving us wondering what's really happening. On top of this we also have the "translation" performed by Gene Wolfe, who claims the book is a found text which has to be very generously translated because of a lack of better words for such alien things. Many of these approximations are very weighted classical Greek references that reward knowledge of them.
These are all interesting things.
Both Latro and Wizard Knight are probably better written works, tighter and more disciplined. Each experiments with form in interesting ways, Latro is writing the diary because he forgets everything each morning. He is the opposite of Severian, being pure eyes for us to see through. The reader is more informed of what is happening than that poor fellow is, we having the ability to contextualise what he is writing.
Wizard Knight has the least experimental form: a letter written to his family back in the mundane world explaining why he isn't coming home. A portal fantasy, which is rare nowadays in adult fiction. This book is subtle and doesn't lean so heavily on classical references, instead creating an internal folk lore that requires extreme attention to unravel.
Of the three, Book of the New Sun is the undoubted king of influence. I read it at a formative time, way back when I started writing properly, and it has embedded itself. Every bit of literature, poetry or RPG thing that I do is held up against this book and judged. There are other books (as we might see later) that have had a more profound impact on a fundamental creative level, none have come close to the consciously chosen influence this has.
So here's part 1 of my annotated bibliography. I'll spare the waffle and just serve the meat.
Gene Wolfe
Recommended reading:
Book of the New SunLatro in the Mist
Wizard Knight
All of these books are written as artefacts, two diaries and one long letter. All have unreliable narrators. Severian in Book of the New Sun is moving through a world that is as weird as anything on Dying Earth, yet we aren't given a proper look at it because that's just how it is for Severian. Everything is filtered through someone to whom this is normal or only slightly odd, leaving us wondering what's really happening. On top of this we also have the "translation" performed by Gene Wolfe, who claims the book is a found text which has to be very generously translated because of a lack of better words for such alien things. Many of these approximations are very weighted classical Greek references that reward knowledge of them.
These are all interesting things.
Both Latro and Wizard Knight are probably better written works, tighter and more disciplined. Each experiments with form in interesting ways, Latro is writing the diary because he forgets everything each morning. He is the opposite of Severian, being pure eyes for us to see through. The reader is more informed of what is happening than that poor fellow is, we having the ability to contextualise what he is writing.
Wizard Knight has the least experimental form: a letter written to his family back in the mundane world explaining why he isn't coming home. A portal fantasy, which is rare nowadays in adult fiction. This book is subtle and doesn't lean so heavily on classical references, instead creating an internal folk lore that requires extreme attention to unravel.
Of the three, Book of the New Sun is the undoubted king of influence. I read it at a formative time, way back when I started writing properly, and it has embedded itself. Every bit of literature, poetry or RPG thing that I do is held up against this book and judged. There are other books (as we might see later) that have had a more profound impact on a fundamental creative level, none have come close to the consciously chosen influence this has.
What did I learn?
- It is okay to not make sense, to be obscure and referential. You don't need to lead the reader by the nose or particularly help them in any way.
- Experimental forms can work if you throw everything in to them. We are not just making lists of facts to be absorbed, we can make things that tickle at an obtuse angle.
- Narrators matter. Even in RPG books, a narrator is a choice that we make.
- Create the weird as though it is part of the furniture. Do not point.
- It is okay to have a full three act play in the middle of your work.
- Be weird, but have a logic to it. Even if only you know how it connects, it should connect.
- Be unapologetically literate.
- Anti-intellectualism and pop-cultural absorption is a choice, so make it or don't. Don't allow yourself to be washed along because that's how it's done.
- Foreshadowing and slow realisation is the greatest thing. When weeks later a player goes "Oh my shit..." and links everything together in a montage of paranoia, then you have Gene Wolfed them.
Shake it off
Priests who took vows of pacifism. They are all issued apostate bodyguards to inflict and deflect harm on their behalf.
The princess in the tower was the worst monster of all and contained all life, the only way to stop her was a physical and metaphorical rape, sullying the universe forming inside her. Even the king of the dead refused to do this.
Humans from the end of time who seed the past with immense fighting machines, intended to be recovered by enclaves of their people and used to prevent the future they have. Their technology is not accurate so they form communities and pass on the locations as prophecy.
A group of nomads who run from their past. Their past chases them and all their stories are true. Towns they camp near have children stolen by changelings and trolls move in under their bridges.
Magicians travel between worlds regularly, understand actual science, every wizard tower you plunder is a monumental loss to humanity.
The undead siege an unsiegable sea wall. Months and months, bodies on bodies. Eventually they will walk over.
The Friendly Sea leads directly into the Deamon Sea, this is where all drowned sailors go, where all the treasure ships have sunk and also explains why it is so dangerous. The waters pour down a daemonic drain. The shores of the primary sub-realm are littered with these treasures.
The world is infinite, as is each sub-realm and realm above. The daemons worship us as gods but we do not understand their ways. Do we kill our gods as we worship them?
The world is shaped like a trampoline with a bowling ball in the middle. At these points the worlds touch, but they are very steep.
At any one time there are 4 or 5 things that might end the world.
Vornheim is a spaceship, buried face down in the side of a mountain.
Rats have a secret world with overlays our own. They have kings and countries and wars.
Magic-Users aren't real wizards until level 20, whereupon they retreat from the banal and petty world to pursue things we can't appreciate. Up until then they can barely claim to be apprentices or dabblers.
You get yourself pulled in so many directions, sometimes you have to shake it off.
The Jabóbo & the Mystery Cult
Mystery Cults were one of the three flavours of Hellenic religion, and one that hasn't been gamed anywhere near hard enough. Typically RPG religion is a matter of worshipping Angry-Jesus or Pretty-Standard-Nice-Jesus or maybe even Probably-A-Little-Bit-Racist-But-Mostly-Harmless-Shaman-Jesus, and only that. How dreary.
The Hellenes recognised the multiplicity of man and thus offered a rich platter of spirituality in the form of three main branches: the state or local religion (the standard idea of what religion is), mystery cults, and philosophic religions. One person would typically follow the local religion, possibly a mystery cult or two, and rarely a philosophic religion unless they were of the upper classes.
Traits of a Mystery Cult:
- Observance of the seasonal cycles. Death and renewal were central themes.
- A focus on secret ceremonies and initiations. Each layer of mystery unveiled offered the initiate new insight into the cult's god.
- Mystery cults have no interest in doctrine or correct beliefs. It's all about making a strong emotional connection with the initiates with the aim of becoming closer to god.
- Inducing religious ecstasy, usually through theatre, chanting, dancing or drugs. You can see the influence of mystery cults on Christian passion plays.
- The primary goal of a member of the religion was union with god, or whatever it is they worship. Possibly in the form of salvation, spiritual or physical immortality, or redemption.
You can see that the a major difference between this and a state religion is that one is for the masses and one is for the individual. A mystery religion is a very personal experience centred around your journey to unity with the godhead, in whatever way that was appropriate. This system can happily be set alongside traditional cleric classes or my previously explored ideas of killing them off and replacing them with random tables of stuff. You can have a religion and be part of a mystery cult or two (or three) as long as your god doesn't have a problem with it. Even then, it's conceivable that a god would have many mystery cults dedicated to them. Think about all the Christian heresies, look at the passion plays, go read about the cult of Mary. Easy stuff.
Jabóbos flourish in Prior Kairnlaw as they do nowhere else on earth. The beasts are big quasi-bipeds, about twice the size of a man. They are cleanly (they wash themselves in the manner of cats), short-muzzled, small-eared and, except for their thick, stubbish tails and huge thighs, have a rather anthropoid aspect. They are valued for their milk, not their flesh, and no more males than are needed for breeding are ever raised. The females have remarkably pronounced mammary developments which are, if I may so phrase it, directly and immediately exploitable by men. The herdsman’s feeling of communion with such a breed is—imaginably—great. Not to put too fine a point on it, jabóbo cults—originating in various fertility-promoting rituals informally practised by herdsmen—now abound in Prior Kairnlaw. Sacred herds are designated and the rituals centred on them are reported—probably reliably—to have both dionysiac and priapic features. The herds are often called, by local cynics, “sacred seraglios.”
1st Mystery
Better to build strong children than repair broken men.
Initiation: The initiate is staked to the ground while a heard of jabóbos are allowed to meander around them. If the herd settles and grooms then they are accepted into the first mystery. (Reaction test adding your wisdom bonus to the roll, needing 6+)
Reward: Your next character's strength and constitution will be at least 13.
2nd Mystery
If your herd is strong you can make the devil plough.
Initiation: The initiates must suckle from the breast of the herd matron. To do so they must wrestle the the young (though still enormous) young away and be accepted by the matron. They must successfully wrestle away D4 STR 14 young and either have a reaction test of 9 (adding your wis bonus) or wrestle her for 2 rounds (the matron is strength 20). If the young pin them or the matron rejects and resists them then they have failed.
Reward: The character has one chance to say no to the GM, and he must accept it. Once it has been used it is gone.
3rd Mystery
We reap as we sow.
Initiation: The initiates are set amongst the herd naked to engage in the jabóbo mating season. Men must secure a strong female for copulation and possibly defend themselves against an enraged bull (strength 18), asserting their authority over him. Women must attract the amorous attention of the bull.
Reward: The character is incredibly fecund. Any sex will result in pregnancy and those children will be strong and healthy. What's more, for each child the character spawns they will receive an additional single use rebuttal as seen in the 2nd mystery.
4th Mystery
What is bred in the bone will not leave the flesh.
Initiation: Initiates attempting the 4th mystery present themselves to a Golden Calf. One will be selected to bear its child and shall enter the final circle of the mystery. Men will bear this child, the details are up to you to decide (caesareans are very advanced in the Kairnlaw since they are a nation of herdsmen).
Reward: The character will produce children with anything they have sex with. Any man, any woman, any animal. Their fertility is boundless. However when copulating with members of other species consult the following tables:
Roll 1D6:
1 - The child is a healthy human blessed by the gods, roll 4d6 and keep the best three for its stats.
2-5 - An animal is born. It is especially fine in every way.
6 - A Golden Calf is born, a chimera of both its parents.
Golden Calf chart:
- It has the head of the animal that spawned it, 1 in 6 chance it can't speak human language. The thick pelt extends down its back to the base of its spine.
- The child matures at an astounding rate. Within a month it will be fully grown.
- Their skin is that of the animal. Their natural armour class is now 13.
- It looks exactly like its animal parent, except it can talk and is incredibly wise from the moment it's born.
- They have ungulate legs where human ones should be. They move twice as fast as normal.
- A tail adorns the base of their spine. It twitches and whirls with a mind of its own but is not altogether unattractive.
- They are barrel chested and thickly muscled. Strength and constitution 18 when they mature.
- It receives unquestioning adoration from all those who view it. Save vs. magic or be positively inclined towards it. Save again to strike it, and each future attempt.
- The child has all the rewards of the highest initiation in the mystery cult.
- They can talk to animals.
- Roll twice (re-roll 11s or 12s)
- Roll three times (re-roll 11s or 12s)
Rumours born of jealousy of those seen as being too successful or too popular are often accused of being golden calves. None in the Kairnlaw would take it as a point of pride to be accused of being the love child of a cultist and a beast.
I think this is all gameable in its current form, but let me know if you think I've left anything out and I'll clear it up. All this stuff has been part of my campaign world for ages so it's easy to forget bits that seem obvious to me.
The Undercroft: Month One
I hope you like statistics and graphs! Inspired by +Tim Shorts's openness with sales figures I thought I'd join in. I know his posts helped me when I was starting, maybe this will help others.
Orcs nest is a FLG, INT is International, +PDF means Print & PDF
Total sold: 48
Net Income: -£58.61
Expenses £115.40
Tools £75.00
Commisions (articles and images) £14.60
Additional Postage Charges £5.00
Undercroft 1 Obligatory Copies £3.80
Advertising (OSRToday) £17
I'm two short of my target with two hours to go. Two (twice)! However it's still 38 more than my initial "I'll be happy if it sells this number" target. A good opening month considering I turned up out of nowhere, zine in hand, and shoved it under your noses.
I was surprised by how slow the uptake in the UK was. I was banking on domestic sales being the core of this chart. But no, Americans and Australians all wanted to pay those nasty postage fees (welcome to my world!). I would have expected them to focus more on the PDF, considering how much cheaper it is.
As for that odd net income up top, I decided early on that I'm going to force this zine to walk on its own two feet. I tallied up every cost I've accrued in the process of making it. Every tool, every page, every staple. As you can see sales have put a nice dent in it and I'm hopeful that the next issue will kill it completely. Possibly somewhat optimistic considering how much more I'll be forking out in commissions (it's a lot), but I'm confident it'll be a solid issue.
So, next month's somewhat unreasonable targets are:
You never know, it could happen
All in all I'm thrilled with the results and indebted to everyone who's helped me out so far. This most certainly includes those who are working with me on issue #2, it's going to be a step up for sure.
Orcs nest is a FLG, INT is International, +PDF means Print & PDF
Total sold: 48
Net Income: -£58.61
Expenses £115.40
Tools £75.00
Commisions (articles and images) £14.60
Additional Postage Charges £5.00
Undercroft 1 Obligatory Copies £3.80
Advertising (OSRToday) £17
 |
| Orcs nest is a FLGs, INT is International, +PDF means Print & PDF |
I'm two short of my target with two hours to go. Two (twice)! However it's still 38 more than my initial "I'll be happy if it sells this number" target. A good opening month considering I turned up out of nowhere, zine in hand, and shoved it under your noses.
I was surprised by how slow the uptake in the UK was. I was banking on domestic sales being the core of this chart. But no, Americans and Australians all wanted to pay those nasty postage fees (welcome to my world!). I would have expected them to focus more on the PDF, considering how much cheaper it is.
As for that odd net income up top, I decided early on that I'm going to force this zine to walk on its own two feet. I tallied up every cost I've accrued in the process of making it. Every tool, every page, every staple. As you can see sales have put a nice dent in it and I'm hopeful that the next issue will kill it completely. Possibly somewhat optimistic considering how much more I'll be forking out in commissions (it's a lot), but I'm confident it'll be a solid issue.
So, next month's somewhat unreasonable targets are:
- Get to 100 copies sold
- Get a review (Good or bad, I'm not picky.)
You never know, it could happen
All in all I'm thrilled with the results and indebted to everyone who's helped me out so far. This most certainly includes those who are working with me on issue #2, it's going to be a step up for sure.
Cellar door
I went to the basement and what did I find?..
- Puss-veined blood lapping against the rafters. Clots and less wholesome things float on its waves like icebergs.
- The chef. The smell of cooking meat and the grinding of a turning spit. A zombie is skewered like a pig over the fire while the chef slices thin portions of meat onto a plate for his guests. It stares back in mad silence.
- A ghoul breeding pen. Females are tightly chained by their necks to the wall while a single male has the liberty of a longer chain pinned to the centre of the room. D3 ghoul babies lay abandoned on the floor awaiting collection.
- Bottles and jars and tubes and racks. In the middle of it all sits a wizened man in a metal chair, pipes coming from every vein and orifice. A number have come loose or been pulled out. It would be a simple matter to put them back in.
- My heart's desire. Your childhood sweetheart, the one you left behind, the one you couldn't save. S/he stands there naked with arms wide open. Only from behind can you see what a thin veneer of humanity they hold, flimsy skin covering crooked hooks and pulsating coils of rotten flesh.
- Nothing. Sweet, merciful nothing.
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