Category: Gaming

In a futile effort to save Chris, show off for Brant, and feed my own ego:

Texcatlipoca Has Come From The North: a companion game to Huey Long’s Men of Action, set in AD 1000 or so in the Yucatan. Brave Byzantine warriors and their Viking allies battle the hordes of the god-king Quetzalcoatl. It uses D20 psionics rules, either Mindshadows or the WotC offering, depending on which is better. No magic. Plenty of Cathars.

The Seven Familes: there are seven great familes in the shadows of the world, struggling for dominance. Mystic flavor — perhaps stealing a little from GURPS Cabal. Ritual actions have subtle effects, so that getting married at the proper time with the proper flowers could provide luck for the family in certain endeavors for the next year, but there are no fireballs. One could think of this as roleplaying humans in the world of Nobilis, if one liked. Maybe use the Window system.

St. Cuthbert’s Men of Action: full-blown pulp adventure in a fantasy world. Despite the title, I wouldn’t actually want to use D&D. I don’t have a preferred pulp system yet… but I digress. The setting is Victorian in the cities and pulp as heck out in the jungles. Think Tarzan here. Humans and dwarves and elves are picking themselves back up again after a lengthy Dark Age; researchers are rediscovering old principles of magic, and the remnants of the First Age lie in the center of the forgotten cities, where mystical defense grids still wait for intruders. Good fun. At least one NPC named Hector.

The Legion: Trinity imagined as space opera. Described in detail here. Takes place in the Aeon Universe, but tilted somewhat to get the classic Jack Williamson space opera feel — not as grandiose as E. E. Smith’s books, but very steel-jawed. This is almost heresy, but since Trinity D20 makes it more attractive to play non-psions, I might use that over the original.

Ki-ki-ki-ki-ki: There is no magic in the world because the dolphins took it all to fight the good fight against the horrendous Cthulhoid creatures that live beneath the sea. As countless Call of Cthulhu scenarios prove, humans cannot be trusted with esoterica. There are two components to this game. In one, a small cadre of trusted human librarians retrieves copies of the Necronomicon and other such tomes from surface libraries. In the other, elite dolphin magickal squads combat Rl’yeh’s minons and the Mi-Go (who have long since eradicated and/or enslaved the native denizens of the Hollow Earth). The players take on one PC on each side of the water. Uses Call of Cthulhu mechanics.

Yeah, every now and then we like to dump out campaign ideas we won’t run.

1. Aztlan Chrome — near-future cyberpunk set in the El Paso/Ciudad Juarez metroplex. Assume a de facto independent state in that region, extending all the way to San Diego/Tijuana, with very little federal control on the part of either Mexico or the United States. The tech is sufficient for wired reflexes; i.e., money can provide you with a definite advantage in a fight (which is really the core ethos of cyberpunk gaming, right?). The Ciudad Juarez serial killer is on my mind as I think about this setting. So is the five solid hours of Los Lobos I listened to last night. So is The Shield, but I’m not sure if that’s for antagonists or protagonists. Could be either, really.

2. Bathsheba Smiles — an A/State game that kicks off with the death of a Nakamura-Yebisu noblewoman. Her will has an immediate and world-shaking effect on the lives of four people living in Mire End, one of the worst slums in the City. A/State is one of those keen grim Scottish SF horror games; everyone lives in one big City which is drenched in politics and bitterness and mystery and run-down Dickensian slums. The macrocorporates have nanotech, but you have maybe some fried dog for dinner if you’re lucky. Think China Mieville’s New Crobuzon, but no magic and more technology.

3. Big Fangs, Skinny Ties — this was a mashup I did some time ago. Still one of my favorites. It’s a fairly standard Sabbat Vampire game centering around a Sabbat pack that’s basically the Banzai Irregulars with fangs. I’d play up the whole “Sabbat save the world from Antedeluvians” aspect of the Sabbat, since it’s my favorite aspect of the sect. Remember: the Sabbat are completely and utterly good guys, once you accept the concept that humans are cattle.

4. Rats in the Cellar — Angel meets Whitey Bulger. You know this one. The big problem I have here is that everyone who’s expressed interest doesn’t want to play a hard-nosed Irish guy from Southie. One or two outsiders is OK but it loses the feel if it’s all errant Harvard professors and the like. Since I’ll never get around to running it, that’s probably OK. Under the Eaves is the sister game to this. I can never decide if it’s lighter or darker.

5. Squared Circle — the indie wrestling federation Unknown Armies game that I’ve wanted to run forever. Indie wrestling is a perfect environment for quite a few UA character types; wrestlers cut themselves all the time and they take stupid risks and it ought to be obvious how great the ring is for many Avatars. The ring itself has been soaking up magickal energy all this time until it’s a super-potent artifact. The owner of the fed is one of the last Cryptomancers, because what’s pro wrestling but an extended lie? To get into the mindset for this, remember that a wrestling federation is pretty much just an old-time touring carnival and watch that HBO series again. Yeah, like that.

Note to self: the Miike RPG has six stats, arranged in three pairs. Love/Obsession, Violence/Brutality, and Sex/Possession. I suspect that when I write the game and stick it behind a content warning, that last pair will become something more explicit and raw; “Possession” is a muted form of what I have in mind. I think the rating in each pair remains constant — so you could have 3 dots in Love/Obsession. The question is how you manifest it.

I have this unformed mechanic in which character creation involves each player telling stories about their character until someone says “OK, that squicks me.”

I am not sure that I would actually want to play this game, but I kind of want to write it.

This is a short-short piece meant to illustrate some things about my character in Jeff’s excellent Queen Abby’s Mob game.

Lifted from The 20’ by 20’ Room:

1. What is the first RPG you ever played?

Tunnels and Trolls, solo. I loved it. I still love it, actually.

2. What RPG do you currently play most often?

If you count D20 as one RPG, it’s D20. Otherwise it’s a split between D&D 3.5 and Adventure D20, both of which I play once every couple of weeks.

3. What is the best system you’ve played?

Hard to answer. Most fun? I think this remains Feng Shui. Best system? I am hard-pressed to choose anything other than Hero. Certainly Hero is the most impressive accomplishment in system design.

4. What is the best system you’ve run?

Feng Shui, insofar as it’s the best system for me to run. I’ve run other systems I consider better (see above) but haven’t run them as well.

5. Would you consider yourself an: Elitist/Min-Maxer/Rules Lawyer?

How are these defined? I’m an elitist, definitely, in that I like roleplaying with smart people. Min-maxer? Yeah, I can milk a ruleset for all it’s worth. Rules lawyer? I care about the rules of the game, but I don’t argue with the GM as a matter of course.

6. If you could recommend a new RPG which would you recommend? Why?

Depends on who I’m recommending it for. West End’s Star Wars is actually a really good choice — everyone knows the world and the system is pretty easy for a newcomer to pick up.

7. How often do you play?

Alll the time. Couple of nights a week, generally.

8. What sort of characters do you play? Leader? Follower? Comic Relief? Roll-Player/ Role-Player?

Interesting ones. Leaders as necessary. Usually I play characters who are capable of being impulsive because I don’t like too much fluttering around when it’s not in service of anything.

9. What is your favorite genre for RPGs?

Action! Heh. I wouldn’t say I have a favorite. If pushed, I’d say pulp.

10. What Genres have you played in?

SF, horror, fantasy (modern, historical, futuristic, and otherwise), pulp, superheroes (teen, dark, etc.), multi-planar. Ones I’m forgetting, too, I expect.

11. Do you prefer to play or GM? Do you do both?

I’d rather play than GM. I do both, however.

12. Do you like religion in your games?

It’s part of human nature, no? I played a character once who fell in love with an angel.

13. Do you have taboo subjects in your games or is everything “fair game”?

I’m OK with whatever.

14. Have you developed your own RPG before?

Yes.

15. Have you ever been published in the gaming industry? If so…what?

Yep. I’ve done work for White Wolf (mostly on Trinity), Atlas Games, Eden… I think that’s it. I’m not a frequent freelancer by any means.

MUSIC: “3 AM, I’m awakened by a sweet summer rain
Distant howling of a passing southbound coal train…”

OPEN on ROGER PARKER FOR NEW JERSEY STATE SENATE HEADQUARTERS. MUSIC continues.

It is very late at night. It is raining, mildly, not enough to make a statement. The headquarters is in a strip mall plaza, with a big plate glass window opening onto the nearly empty parking lot. Inside, lights are going out one by one.

MUSIC: “Was I dreaming or was there someone just lying here beside me in this bed?
Am I hearing things? Or in the next room, did a long forgotten music box just start playing?”

The camera starts high and swoops down gracefully, focusing in on a television set through the front window. A perky newscaster is giving us the election results for the benefit of those who can’t read them as they scroll up the right side of the screen. Roger Parker lost.

Alvin Wassermann (William Macy) turns away from the screen. One of his co-workers mouths inaudible words of sympathy, gestures that next time it’ll be different. Alvin shrugs and leaves by the front door, gets into his Honda Civic, sits for a moment before driving off.

MUSIC: “And I know it’s a sin putting words in the mouths of the dead.
And I know it’s a crime to weave your wishes into what they said.”

Flashback to a montage of political advertisements for candidates we’ve never heard of. Voiceovers from the advertisements: “In the tradition of John F. Kennedy…” “As the great Franklin Delano Roosevelt said…” “If we do not recall the course charted by Jimmy Carter…”

MUSIC: “And I know only fools venture where them spirits tread.
‘Cause I know every word, every sound bouncing ‘round my head.
Is just static on the radio.
Everything I think I know is just static on the radio.”

Alvin arrives at his apartment: small, cramped, suburban. The walls are papered with political signs and flyers. He settles down at his kitchen table and opens his briefcase: pulls out his folders and starts trying to figure out where it all went wrong this time. There’s no answer there.

MUSIC: “Everything I think I know is just static on the radio.”

At the bottom of the briefcase is a dice bag. He hefts it in his hand once, then sighs, and picks up the phone.

ALVIN: “Hey… no. No, it’s Alvin. No, I know, it’s late… you were up watching? That’s really kind of you. Well, thank you… no, no. Just — well, if I’d paid more attention to the game. It’s all in there.”

MUSIC: “Just static on the radio…”

ALVIN: “So we’re playing this week, right?”

MUSIC: “Static on the radio.”

BLACK. Dungeon Majesty logo fades in.

The ugliest dwarf in Sigil is practicing his tai chi in the center of the room. He moves without any real grace; his precision is the certainty of stone, rocks sliding against rocks, limbs held in place by muscle alone. His hands are enormous: strangler’s hands, with knuckles like pebbles thrusting up out of his weathered grey skin.

He turns, and turns again, balanced on the balls of his feet. His brows jut out over his eyes. He stares, angry, at the world.

In one hand he has a piece of dark heartwood, carved to fit a dwarven hand. He clenches it tight. There are grooves in the wood where his fingers rest, as if they have rested there for years. The wood has no give to it, not anymore. He brings his arm around in a great slow punch, fingers still wrapped around the piece of wood, giving his fist enough heft to strike a blow at the heart of the world.

A long time later, he completes his practice. It is at this moment that he is at the peak of his spiritual development. Tomorrow he will go out and hurt people who owe his superiors money, and this will inevitably result in backsliding. He knows this. But he enjoys both portions of the cycle.

And the following day, he will practice again.

So here’s the campaign. This is Mike’s fault.

It’s a little known fact, but once you’ve been President of the United States, you don’t get to die. You live on in eternal unlife after your death; sure, you leave a corpse, because everyone likes funerals, but your Ka goes on.

Yes, Ka. Just like in Egypt. Look at the dollar bill; you think the pyramid isn’t there for a reason?

You are bound to the country. You can speak to the current President, but each sentence you speak takes a year of his life. That’s the real reason why Presidents age in office. Once a President leaves office you lose your connection to them, but you’ll be there to welcome them to the afterlife, oh yes. It’s the only excuse you have for a party.

You are as you were when you died. Everyone takes turns caring for Reagan. It’s nervewracking; if he wanders off and finds his way to the White House, he could age any sitting President to death in one night of conversation.

Hoover and Nixon could hear the Dead Presidents, but did not join them in the afterlife. Ford never could hear them. Nobody tried talking to David Rice Atchison; everyone was very surprised when he arrived to join the rest of his comrades.

The ghosts of every Treasurer of the United States who ever lived serve the Dead Presidents in the afterlife.