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Author: Bryant

Drunken Magistrate

The Drunken Magistrate is one of many taverns in Vain’s Rest. There is nothing unusual about it. There’s a common room where people drink and eat, and perhaps six bedrooms up above. One can sleep in the common room, too, but one’d best count on being woken up early. The stable is not particularly good, and there is no dedicated stable boy. There’s a musician or two most nights.

Ba Juerun owns the place; his daughter Nuru waits tables, and his wife Audu cooks. His son, Chanc, does whatever needs doing.

Every neighborhood tavern has regulars, and one would expect a subgroup of those regulars to become the unofficial arbiters of the tavern: those looked to in a bar fight, for example. You (yes, you) are the people who use the Drunken Magistrate as a place of business, a place to pass judgment, and a home away from home.

Banegard Tower

The Banegard was founded by Jacob Sloth, some two generations after the Maiden Broke. His purpose was to provide a bulwark against evil in the world, one not dependent on the politics of Oratain or the religious strictures of any church. His departure from the Army of the West was not entirely amicable, but since he was perhaps the best general of the age and since he brought much of his support staff with him, Oratain chose not to obstruct his passage.

Banegard Tower was shaped as an educational institution as much as it was as a fortress. Marcus Greary, Jacob Sloth’s academician, designed the Tower as a source of knowledge. He believed that by giving freely to the nations and states of the North, Sloth’s new army would gain the gifts of manpower and support in return. As such, he spared no expense in hiring academicians and military experts, and opened the Military School at no cost other than five years of post-education service or the equivalent.

The cost to Sloth’s personal fortune was immense for several years. However, after the youthful Banegard defeated a significant force of otherkin at Travin’s Gulch, mere hours from the borders of Main Gauvin, Queen Pomfray of Oratain made peace between her reign and Jacob Sloth. From then on, despite occasional grumbles from some noble families, Banegard Tower has been a fixture of the North and well-regarded for its efforts both public and private to maintain the safety of the entire region.

Currently, Banegard Tower is a recognized ally of every significant entity in the North excepting the Warlock Cities. While the Cities are not, of course, overrun by inimical forces, many assume that their safety is due to dark pacts; the Banegard might well otherwise be necessary. The Tower is governed by Arren Sloth, a direct descendant of Jacob. Jacob’s line has remained strong.

Vain's Rest

Vain’s Rest is located at the border between the North and the South; it’s a border delineated by nature, not by man. To the north, green hills and white mountains rise to the horizon, and farmers trade stories of children stolen by the southern barbarians. To the south, the desert rolls in dunes as far as the eye can see, and the cultured gentlemen of the jeweled cities discuss the ways in which the northern barbarians can be cozened.

Vain’s Rest is a city of exiles. The Broken Maiden lies too close, and if nothing else cemented Vain’s Rest as a place where few live by choice, that would. But even before the Maiden Broke, Geoffery Vain’s last resting place was a dangerous town full of those who respect no borders, not even those laid down by the gods. It is where you come to do business with the other realm that cannot be conducted by embassy or official means. It is a place where law does not stretch, just as Vain intended centuries ago.

There are several powers and perhaps Powers in Vain’s Rest. The office of Mayor has been passed from competent man to competent man for some time, and until the Mayoral Secret is lost, that seems likely to continue. The Vainites know Geoffery Vain’s resting place, which may or may not hold power, but their temporal power alone is significant in any case. There are other cults and religions, more by the year. A recruiting officer for the Banegard lives in the center of town, and does not interfere with anyone often. There are always rumors of Kingsmen and perhaps Calanian envoys, but that’s true of almost every town in the world.

Ten thousand people. Regrettably, too many of them are exceptional for comfort.

Fragmentary

  • Vain’s Rest
    • Vainites
    • Geoffery Vain
    • Drunken Magistrate
  • Broken Maiden
    • Untamed Lands
    • The Untamed
  • The North
    • Order of Hermetics
    • Banegard Tower
    • Oratain
      • Kingsmen
  • The South
    • Trader’s League
    • The Yuanya Emirate
    • The Camel Tribes
    • Free City of Calain

Bits of bits

The MacHeist thingiemabob is coming to an end. In this case, thingiemabob is defined as “a big publicity/marketing event for small Mac developers.” The salient information is that you can get a bundle of nine applications for $49.

Of the apps in the bundle, I find Delicious Library and Newsfire to be fairly significant; that’s DVD/book/game cataloging and a very good RSS newsreader. There’s also a personal information manager, an OS level skinning application, a game of your choice, an HTML authoring program, etc. Check out the list for yourself.

I am being fairly self-interested about this; if they raise $100K for charity, TextMate will be unlocked, and I like text editors. 25% of the purchase price is going to charity, and they’re just over $50K right now, so another four thousand purchases would do the trick.

Stylistic rediscoveries

I’m gonna count Orlando Trash as a successful campaign at this point, which means I’ve run two successful campaigns. Maybe three if we count the Iowa City Vampire campaign; it’s vanished in the mists of time for me, but I think we didn’t go more than five or so sessions. Regardless, everyone’s enjoying Orlando Trash and I still get compliments on Huey Long’s Men of Action, so definitely successes.

Okay. Two is not enough for a trend analysis if I was being a scientist, but I’m being a GM.

I get into running games with larger than life PCs. I like running for PCs who can affect the world; I tend to want them to be close to very important NPCs, without a lot of layers of bureaucracy between them and the authorities.

In both games, the PCs have wound up as operatives of the ruling powers, while still maintaining a strong degree of independence. I’m not sure if this is an inherent tendency or if it’s just a convenient frame. That’s something I’d like to play around with in my next game. Hm; if I’d ever done Whitey Bulger’s Men of Action, it would have fit that formula. Of course, Men of Action games kinda fit that by definition, don’t they?

I tend to mix action and talk. I’ll happily run a session that’s almost purely action, but I won’t run two of them in a row.

I like dumping problems on PCs. I do it for the emotional rush that I believe the players get when they resolve the problems. My goal — this is pretty much stolen from Carl Rigney — is to ratchet up the pressure on the PCs to the maximum possible before they shatter into a million pieces.

Sometimes those problems come in the form of mysteries or puzzles or conspiracies. My players seem to enjoy getting to the bottom of those. Discovery is a big emotional payoff, in my experience.

I like strong, broad archetypes. I don’t reuse ‘em over and over again; Prince Sabado is pretty much completely unlike Huey Long. There was no Sheriff Steel equivalent in Men of Action.

Some of my players read this. What else do I do a lot?

Once I chew on all this some more I’ll talk about my next game, which’ll be fantasy, and which is preliminarily named Tarnished Brass. I think.

Old time

Pandas don’t have just one religion, but probably their most popular religion is this:

There are many gods. The goal of all the gods, except for maybe a few twisted ones, is to create the most perfect object possible in our universe. In fact, this is the sole reason our universe was created; any object created in the palaces of the gods, which lie beyond, is perfect by definition. The universe we live in was fabricated as a testing ground of sorts.

It is self-evident that the perfect object is a stalk of bamboo. The gods compete, each in their own ways, to make the best bamboo that can be made.

Pandas are arbiters. One cannot properly determine the worth of a stalk of bamboo without a panda to pass judgement. This is why pandas exist; they were added to our world in order to help the gods decide if their bamboo efforts had reached fruition. Before there were pandas, the arguments between the gods had consequences not to be desired.

This is why pandas must eat bamboo. It is a holy duty. It is not, as some might think, laziness or gluttony. By eating bamboo, pandas hasten the day when the goal of all the gods will be reached; and all will celebrate.

Some might ask if this goal should be reached, since — if the purpose of the universe is to test bamboo — the universe will be purposeless once the perfect bamboo is accomplished. Purposelessness is another word for “disposable.” Pandas, however, are not inclined towards long-term thinking. They simply enjoy bamboo.

With thanks, as always, to S.