Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I decided to run Mysteria Matris Oblitae, an adventure available in Pagan Publishing’s collection Mortal Coils. The session had all the makings of a disaster: we started character creation way too late into the night, I expected 4 players but 7 showed up, the group didn’t know the system too well, and people had to leave early.
Luckily, character creation took about an hour and a half because my players understood most nuts & bolts of Cthulhu’s simple character creation system after my first explanation.
Mysteria Matris Oblitae is a hell of an adventure; I’ll provide the basic premise while avoiding spoilers for those of you destined to play it in the future. A picture made it’s way to the University of Mexico City. In it a group of Indians and Mexicans are standing around what looks to be the carcass of an unknown creature. The Investigators, who are all related to the departments of Zoology or Botany, are sent to a rural Mexican town to investigate. As always, madness and horror ensue.
I picked this adventure because of its open ended nature. There is little to no railroading, instead the players get to explore the countryside sandbox style.
My group consisted of 2 professors, 1 driver/bodyguard, 1 secretary, 1 lab tech, 1 student assistant, and 1 dilettante. They asked around just enough to be pointed to the direction of the nastiness. Without any preparation, they went straight to a creature lurking in the Mexican countryside. In typical Call of Cthulhu fashion, this spelled doom for the party. Three investigators died at the hands of the mythos creature. The other four ran out into the country side screaming in terror. Of those four, three died of exhaustion and bandit attacks. One made it to civilization where he was institutionalized and electro shocked to oblivion.
The group enjoyed the adventure. It is impossible to create any sort of atmosphere with seven players, but we made up by keeping the table lively with friendly banter and laughs. I had the honor of popping an RPG cherry that night. Mysteria Matris Oblitae was Punkylady’s (@punkylady, twitter) first RPG session. She was the first person to jump into my next session this week; so I take it that she enjoyed herself.
I’m planning on running another Cthulhu adventure this week. Mysteria Matris Oblitae is a pretty deadly and investigation based aventure. This time around I’m running something a bit more pulpy and flashy.
Call of Cthulhu has provided ample opportunity for me to take my mind off the rather serious and sad events taking place in my life right now. Ironically, a game about losing one’s sanity has help me keep mine.
Role Playing Games truly are much more than just games.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Deluxe Revised Recon is Palladium Book’s percentile based game of counter-insurgency warfare during the Vietnam war. It has long been a favorite of our group because of it’s simple system ( not Palladium’s infamous Megaversal system) which allows for fast, brutal and deadly combats encounters. We had been playing Recon on and off for more than 3 years. It is the game we played when we needed a break from longer, more involved campaigns. These one shots often ended in gruesome total party kills at the hands of booby traps and the enemy; all of which still draw laughs during over Medallas.
We managed to get a 5 guys to show up to Juan’s house for one more mission. Juan picked a scenario titled Radio Wars from the Advanced Recon section of the book. The adventure started with the unit stationed in a village, deep in the jungle. A radio play that demonized American forces came on the villages only radio. Villagers, who had been friendly up to that point, started distancing themselves from the team. Shortly after, word came in from Headquarters that our unit was to locate the radio station from where the signals were being transmitted, kill all enemy units, and capture the mastermind behind the propaganda.
The unit headed deeper into the jungle to find the guerilla radio station. We easily handled a tiger attack and a booby trap. We arrived at a valley from where we overlooked an enemy contingent that was repairing a radio antenna in a clearing. We had arrived at our objective. The sergeant ordered the team to descend down the valley and hide in the bushes, in preparation for a raid. The sergeant stayed behind to provide sniper support.
Half an hour after the team departed, two VC soldier sneaked up on the sergeant. They overpowered him with a rifle but strike to the back of the head.
Down on the valley, the rest of the team waited for the Sergeant’s signal to attack. A captured worker revealed that the mastermind behind the radio broadcast was staying on a cave the enemy used for storage. The team’s token psychopath killed the prisoner when he ran out of information to share.
The team had agreed on throwing grenades at the workforce and running in to finish off whoever hadn’t been blown to pieces. While we waited for the signal, we saw two enemy soldiers carrying the team’s sergeant.
We decided to begin the raid at once.
The team hurled their frag grenades at the enemy troops. One grenade found it’s mark among the workers, blowing up a some and stunning the rest. Another grenade landed a foot away from the still unconscious sergeant. It exploded, blowing up both our comrade and his captors. The team ran into the clearing to finish off the wounded workers. My character, the team’s medic, confirmed that the grenade had killed the sergeant. After rendering the antenna unusable, we walked into the caves to look for whoever was responsible for the broadcast.
There were various tunnels within the cave that veered off to different directions. We began trying set up a defensive perimeter at the mouth of the cave when the first grenade flew in, landing next to one of the heavy weapons specialist. The grenade went off, almost killing him. It took a very lucky medicine roll (my medic isn’t that good of a medic) to stabilize him. The guy that guarded the cave’s mouth ran out, full speed, to find safety somewhere in the jungle. My medic tried to carry the wounded weapon specialist out of the cave when two bullets hit killed him. The last guy in the cave was blown to pieces by one of his own grenades when he tried to hurl it down one of the tunnels, but it bounced back at him.
The last survivor, the soldier who had managed to run out of the cave, eventually made it back to the village where the unit began the adventure. He walked in to find the village had turned to the VC. He fired blindly at everything that walked before he was struck down by enemy bullets. On the ground, he put one of his grenades in his mouth and pulled the pin.
That was a very condensed log of the first RPG session my original group has had in 3 years. This session marked the first time extensive twitting took place in the table during the game. At first I was upset about this, but the more I think about it, the more fond I’ve come to be about it. Rafa’s, @rafamejia on twitter, kept the world informed about out progress through his updates. He shared with every the experiences his character, Lou B. Riel, had during the suicide mission. Through his updates, he may had gotten someone, somewhere, to ask himself, “what’s Recon” or “What’s an RPG.” Unknowingly he may have turned on someone to this hobby of ours. Too much brain power isn’t required to enjoy Recon, so I think his twitting didn’t get in the way of his involvement as a player. I think it added to the laidback, pickup game feel our group has attached to Recon.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Since I have absolutely nothing to say, I'll re-post and old entry from a Blog a kept a few years ago. Back then I was getting into the old Chill RPG. The interest quickly faded when I never found a group to game with. I did point out some of the games merits, but I ignored its clunky and over complicated system. Rules aside, Chill is a solid game that be a lot of fun to a group that is tired of Call of Cthulhu, but doesn't really want to give Hunter a spin.
I have always been a sucker for cult culture. I feed off the energy of the fanatics that keep obscure art and games going years after it’s shelf life. My latest obsession is a 90’s horror role playing game called Chill. The game, originally designed in the 80s, deals with an organization called SAVE which combats the evil forces of the Unknown. Unlike other horror rpgs, like Kult and Call of Cthulhu, SAVE pays homage to the universal horror, the hammer movies, and the horror camp of the 90s while keeping psychological horror elements present. These disperate elements attract me to the game. I look forward to creating stories that embrace the camp of the 80s: Bela Lugosi-esque Vampires, Werewolfs, and ghosts with splatterpunkish sensibilities. I see Chill as a platform for me to tell stories about the 80s schlock movies as well as the fortean stuff I’ve spent most of the past two years reading about. My Chill game will deal with a Transylvanian vampire one week and with Mothman on the next. The character’s antagonists are creatures of The Unknown. The unknown manifests as creatures from 80s horror movies. I figure the complicated parapsychological stuff that Jacques Valle and John A. Keel wrote about can also be applied to the Unknown. (Wikipedia Jacques Valle and John A. Keel if you don’t know who they are.)
There are still a few angelfire looking Chill website around. They all host the journals of Chill campaigns that lasted for years, created by people who think Chill is Christ made into an RPG.
A young company tried to revive Chill but they have been unsuccessful. The game seems to be down for the long sleep. All the better as far as I’m concerned.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Bored out of my mind some time yesterday afternoon I popped Dungeons and Dragons: Heroes into my xbox 360. It's 8:30 am right now. I spent all night playing the son of a bitch. Heroes is a simple dungeoncrawler in the vein of Champions of Norrath (the best of it's kind) and Diablo. The game oozes old school D&D: gods-awful clitched storyline, endless dungeons populated with random monsters, and clitched characters.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
My Girlfriend hates gaming and everything related to it. She's only played once. It was a Dark Heresy one-shot I ran a while back. She played a Psyker named Novia. (That's spanish for girlfriend) It was a straight forward action adventure where the players followed the trail of a cult that fronted as a worker's union. It was a fast paced investigation that concluded in a deadly shootout.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Dubious Shards, written by Ken Hite, is a collection of essays on different aspects of the Cthulhu Mythos. Hite covered a very wide spectrum of topics relating to H.P. Lovecraft's literary work from Dagon to vampirism with an unreleased Delta Green scenario included for good measure.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
If I was a millionare playboy in charge of a huge RPG club, I would play the following games (in no particular order)
- Twilight 2013
- Dying Earth
- Shadows of Cthulhu
- Chill RPG
- Dark Heresy
- SLA Industies (Savage Worlds conversion)
- Witch Hunter
- Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay
- King Arthur Pendragon: 4th Edition
- Unknown Armies
- Masques of the Red Death (2nd Edition "Box Set" Ravenloft)
- Dragon Warriors
- Spirit of the Century
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
It was raining when I arrived at Warwick.
Even though the welcome sign said there are 11 thousand or so people living here, the streets are empty.
At 2 p.m. I went to the Sheriff’s office (they still call it Constabulary in this town) to see how much they know of the Aimric deal. I also wanted to confirm Mrs. Aimric’s suspicions that the towns people were hiding something.
I started a friendly conversation with a reuben cop working the front desk. He remembered the Aimric cousins quite fondly. I almost felt like buying cousin Edward some flowers after my talk with the cop. The motive to kill his wife still eludes Warwick police. He also said that the police beliefs that James Willis is out of town on vacation.
I’ve been talking to people long enough to know this reuben is lying through his teeth. But why?
My next stop was the small liberal-artsy-fartsy school, Warwaqua College. This is where James Willis Aimric worked as a Professor of Medieval Literature. I came up with this croc story about a young nephew from Arkham who wanted to study Medieval Literature.
Everybody was off for winter break. A kid working a desk in the Literature department told me to talk to Prof. Jones. He didn’t have a bad thing to say about Aimric; he also told me that the man was gone on vacation. I bamboozled him into letting me take a look at the department “to get a feel for the place.” I went to the Literature department and let my self into Aimric’s office. The place was in a state of controlled chaos, with books piled up everywhere. There was a picture of Mrs. Aimric behind a tower of books in the desk. This lets me know it wasn’t adultery. I just know…
I found Professor Jones in the town library. His an old man who dresses like were still in the past century. He knows everything there is to know about history, but doesn’t know what happened to James Willis Aimric.
I can tell his not on the level with me. I don’t know enough to call him on his bluff…yet.
Next stop: the Aimric Ancestral Home.
The drive to the place was quite relaxing. I passed empty, decaying shore houses all over the coast. The Pacific Ocean, infinitively bigger and meaner than me, extended to the horizon. There’s a Civil War memorial on the way. It’s an strange obelisk that I guess symbolizes some struggle or the other.
It is late afternoon when I get to the house is on the outskirts of town. It is an attractive house with a modern style. Slightly decayed paint ran all across its two storeys. I could see a golden dome on the side of the house that was facing the other direction. The flowers meant to adorn the front of the house had long died, now they just add to the house's depressed look.
I decided to get inside of the house before the lightning that illuminated the sky gave way to rain.
The house looked as abandoned inside as it did outside. The air was heavy with musk and everything covered in shadows as heavy as the secrets the house kept.
The first of which were two paintings I found on the room adjacent to the kitchen. The first is a flat earth ( like old Europeans saw the earth, I guess). There was an object floating above Earth. It could have been made out of fire, decaying bodies or worms, I couldn’t tell. I had take a step back and calm my self down. Something about that horrible painting unnerved me. I couldn’t keep my cool while I looked at the painting. I know how stupid it sounds, but the thing had a primordial horror to it.
The other painting had some people in colonial garbs sitting on a table. They had penetrating red-rimmed eyes. There were very strange looking naked people sitting on the other side of the table. They were humans… of sorts. Their noses and fore heads were flat and their hands were…scaly. They seem to be striking a bargain of some sorts. Behind them stands a man doing what looks like a high energy speech. Further in the background is a paper mill engulfed in flash. Flat nosed people are being lead in chains to the flames.
I walked away from the dreadful paints and went to the backyard. There were gravestones there. They seem to belong to faithful servants whose loyalty went well beyond life. The family crypt was closer to the woods. Small Hebrew letters were carved in between the bigger letters of the Aimric name. I can’t read Hebrew. The grandiose tomb was sealed with a stranger lock mechanism.
Back inside the house I found a door that lead to the cellar. I think I can hear Eddie’s words in my head, “CANNOT DISCOVER THE ENTRANCE IN THE CELLAR!!!” even though I’ve never met the man or heard the sound of his voice. I descend some rickety stairs, flash light in hand. I end up in the House’s impressive wine cellar. A deeper look at one of the wine racks reveals that it’s a fake. I noticed a mechanism of sorts upon further inspection. The wine were part of the rack. It was impossible to remove them, but I was able to rotate them. The were letters inscribed in the bottles. I remembered Edward's journal, " The clue is in their names, that pestilential procession of names." Damn it, I feel like I've stared at the answer, but I'm not intelligent enough to know it.
I opened another door, it was a storage room. I found some newspaper clippings in a box. They were all related to the family. An August 1886 story had the headline, Church closed, preacher suspect in anarchist crackdown. The preacher's name, Mordecai Aimric. Another story chronicles the death of a policeman that was involved in the closing of the church. There was also a 1903 story about the discovery of a kid's carcass nearby. The poor kid appeared to be eaten. there was another piece about the resignation of a Dr.Rebis due to mental distress. An 1845 story chronicled Mordecai's victory on a civil case against a Folklorist who attempted to search for some relics in Warwick. Finally, there was a story about a fire that consumed a paper mill owned by the Aimrics on July 17, 1908. This the second time the building was consumed by flames.
I had enough of this damn cellar. I went up the stairs to the house's second storey.
There were three rooms. The first room is a study. The walls were full of books of all kinds. I was bored just looking at them. I found a book on poetry that just seemed out of place. I heard a "click" when I tried to pull it out and that whole section of the bookcase opened like a door. Inside was a safe. The very same safe Edward frantically looked for in his journal entry. I got the combination right on the first try. The two items guarded by the safe seemed equally out of place. The first was a big magnifying glass lens. On top of it what appeared as an instrument but was unlike anything i've seen. It looked like a sea shell on the outside. It had some keys along it's outer shell. The insides of the item spiraled inward. The thing's geometry seemed impossible: like it was way bigger inside than what it was outside. I put the two things back in the safe and kept on investigating.
The next room was the one that got to me.
It was a girl's room. Well, the nightmarish parody of one. I could tell that the atmosphere here was heavy with fear and dread that has been bottled up here for way too long. I was able to spot some boards that covered a hole in the wall behind the bed. I went back to my car to get the crow bar and noticed, for the first time, that night had fallen. After climbing up the stairs I spotted a attic door that I missed the first time around. I found a small diary, a small girl's diary, behind the boards.
I feel the need to write down what this girl lived with. I feel the need to share with her her pain; I just hope I can be as strong as her.
...father came again to my bed last night...mother doesn't...tells me I can't...to be a good daughter. Sometime it hurts, but Father always tells me I shouldn't cry, Father says a daughter must do her duty if she wants to get into Heaven. And I do want to get into Heaven...
[Entry dated 1887]... my poor little William. Father calls him an aberration, child of the devil, but I don't believe... locked in the attic. I go to see him whenever Father is away. I sing to him, sometimes, through the keyhole, and slip him sweets through the crack under the door... my baby is beautiful...can't let him hurt my dear baby William... to the doctor, and he has a plan... I can never... this locket, William, and I will always keep yours... to always remember my face...
[ February 27, 1891]...dead, but not dead yet...will not allow him to do to Edward what he wanted to do to William.. have learned...given him the charm against the...never take it off, dear Edward... [page has been torn away]...fear to sleep... mist at the window.
There's nothing I can do to safe her.
There was a locklet with the diary. One side had a picture of the girl the other had a deformed boy. William...
I turned around to start walking to the attic door. For the first time in years my gun was in my hand.
There were too doors in the attic one that was locked and the other wasn't. The unlocked door lead to the copula I saw from the front of the house. A huge telescope was aimed at the sky. I placed the lens I found in the study and looked. The view was a mixture of grey and other weird colors.
I had enough. I need a clean mind to sort out the generations dark secrets of this family. I went back to the car and drove to the hotel to meet Mrs. Aimric. She wasn't there.
I now sit in a bed I payed for with the money Mrs.Aimric gave me. Notes all around me. The strange instrument sits next to me. Something tells me it was built to make a noise. I feel compelled to hear that noise.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Entry 1. Prelude-part 1.
It’s been pouring for weeks. I have been counting the rain drops from my luxurious second-storey, one room, one cot office/apartment.
As grey and ugly as it seemed, Veronica Styles Aimrec brought it to a whole new level of grey and ugly when she stepped into the office.
She had all the vestiges of the imposing dame, but she came to me shrunken and frail. We formally introduced ourselves, and she told me that Manny Maxwell had sent her my way. It figures, this time of dame wouldn’t be caught dead this side of the
I asked the same tired old questions every P.I. makes in a missing persons case: Did he have any enemies? Did he owe money to anybody? Did he hang out with a rough crowd?
All of which she answered with unadorned NOs.
There were no “other lady” questions. This woman doesn’t need me to cut open a new wound to pour salt on. That’s not my style. I could figure that out without rubbing it in her face. Besides, squirrel fever doesn’t control every single man that walks God’s green Earth. Some of us are able to stay with the same doll for the long run. Well, I sure I will when I find the right one.
After a bunch of time when she didn’t say nothing, she starts speaking about how their marriage has changed since they moved to sleepy
The dame told me that after her husband’s disappearance, the demeanor of the town’s people changed from untrusting to ominous.
Not only did Warwickians deny any knowledge of the Professors’ where abouts, they also dismissed the whole episode, claiming that he was probably on vacation.
Great, either this fine dame was a cuckoo, or there is a large group of inmates running a town-sized sanitorium somewhere in
The case went from interesting to weird when the name Edward Aimric came up again.
The dame came clean with some of the details of the inheritance.
Edward Aimric killed his wife and then hung himself.
Not only was he a savage animal; he was also a damned coward. Just like the good reverend. A family of the damned: degenerates that feed off of each other’s evil.
This man’s last name has to be at the center of all of this.
Then, she produces a slim imitation leather book. It was obvious that mice have feasted on some of the pages. Some one wrote:
Desperate. Went back to the old twisting lane and found only a blank wall.
Without the amulet, how can I resist—
Getting worse. People I have never met smile knowingly at me in the street. The police believe I am a child molester, but have brought no charges against me as yet. Why? Head hurts all the time. I have turned the cellar upside-down…damn it, where is it?
Dreamed of father again. Dreamed of Grandfather. Those horrible, red-rimmed eyes…
…into the safe, finally. 51-2-16. Won’t forget that soon. Ha!
CONNOT DISCOVER ENTRANCE IN THE CELLAR!!! Secret eludes me still but I will find it!!! The clue is in their names, that pestilential procession of names!
If I could only—
-- will fail. There is no recourse left. I know now what I must do.
My god! Pederasty, murder, incest, does the Aimric wickedness know any bounds?
I looked at Mrs. Aimric straight in those sad eyes.
“Ma’am, I’ll do everything in my power to find your husband.”I insisted on talking about the money latter. This woman is in need; business can wait. She insisted on giving me an advance: 200 Cs divided up into 4 $20 bills. She also provided a card with the room where she staying in the Monpelier Inn, where she’s staying with her sister while all of this blows over.
After some formalities I walked her out.
Tomorrow I’m driving out to strange
This reawakening began after my college graduation this past december. Job searching in this post-apocalyptic economy feels down right nihilistic. I figured it was the perfect time to get re-acquainted with the works of Mr. Lovecraft.
I bought the Trail of Cthulhu rulebook for use in the Masks campaign. I figure it's always good to have a couple of rulebooks in the table for easy reference. That should be coming in the mail at any moment now.
Participating in a campaign with a different group of players awakened my curiosity about the way other's percive and play Call of Cthulhu. Published scenarios were considered heretical by my previous gaming group. We always figured that they were "cheap;" a last resort for an unimaginative gamemaster. My outlook on published stuff totally changed after reading a Death in Luxor review. The details mentioned by the reviewer, the evocative cover art, and the 7 buck price tag got me interested enough to give it a chance. Long story short: Death in Luxor is a marvelous adventure. It shreds in light on the "classic" Call of Cthulhu gaming era of the 1920s. I got The Doom Below and Murder of Crows, both my Super Genius Games, shortly there after. While neither breaks new gaming ground, they are both very enjoyable and fun little explorations of the Cthulhu Mythos.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I'm playing Gerald "Gerry" Cohen in a Masks of Nyarlathotep campaign under the Trail of Cthulhu rules set. I asked my gamemaster what type of character would better fit in his game; he told me a reporter or private detective would do the trick. I went as far as asking if the group needs brains or muscle. "Muscles" he answer. From there I came up with the idea for Gerry.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
I'm joining a Trail of Cthulhu game shortly ran by a pretty good guy I met through the Yog-Sothoth-dot-com. He's running the epic Masks of Nyarlathotep using Trail of Cthulhu, which he holds to very high esteem. I'm set to meet up with the guys sometime this week to discuss character creation and other stuff. Got to admit: I'm pretty excited to be play again; I need the distraction from the post-apocalyptic economy and my own job searching.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
I've been forcing the original idea for a oneshot to mature all of today. The overall framework the story will follow is clear enough, the details are being elusive though. In "Strange Going-ons," the players are going to be night watchmen for a horribly neglected sanatorium in Middlenheim a few months after the Storm of Chaos. The adventure is meant to be different to the typical fantasy session where the PCs go to a town and are hired or volunteer to vanquish a threat. It is mostly an investigative scenario where the players are given the opportunity to acquire information which could prove more valuable than martial force. If the players follow the trail of clues, they will be given the option of manipulating their imidiate environment greatly. NPC motivations play an integral part of this scenario. I'm working towards figuring out why the cast of secondary characters do the things they will do.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
It seems like I'm gonna get my one-shot sooner than expected. Last week I facedbook a bunch of guys to see if any were interested in playing an rpg game:
I'm probably moving away to Atlanta in a few weeks. I've had the desire to play a one-shot ( that's a full story in on sitting) of the Warhammer Fantasy Role Play. The general story is that the characters get hired by a old man to be night watchmen for his sanatorium in the formerly besieged city of Middenheim. The characters are all poor fucks who usually use the carcass of a dead rat or cat as a pillow at night, so this job offer seems like a godsend. But as you already know, madness, chaos and shit are sure to ensure.
I was thinking about creating the characters myself and randomly assigning them before play starts.
The game should take no more than 3 to 4 hours. PM me if you are interested. Fuck you very much, if you are not
I knew that the idea of a campaign was pretty far-fetched because of distance and real-life stuff, so I proposed a Warhammer Fantasy one-shot. Most of my friends are already acquainted to the Old World and/or the WHFR, so I figured that it's the best bet to catch their attention.
The ploy seems to have work. Tonight, for the first time in 2 years, I'm sitting to write an RPG adventure. Most of the thing is floating around in my head in need of fleshing out. I'm aiming at having an adventure ready in two days.
I'll keep you posted.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Currently the only players I have available to me are a bunch of fucking assholes (and I love them all) that don't care anything about RPGs, miniature gaming, or good storytelling. They are the type of guys that are willing to play RPGs when they don't have absolutely anything else to do. A long term multigenerational story set in a detailed world seems more fantastical than Tolkieen's Middle Earth itself.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Black Company Campaign Setting
I had two big problems with the setting. First, it was a tough sell to my group. None of my players have even heard about the Black Company. To them it's just another hacked fantasy setting. I could never sell them on the "thing" with the names ( Goblin, One-Eye, Tom-Tom, Croacker, ect); or why is the world better than the Forgotten Realms or Ravenloft; and most importantly, why use use the tired-old D20 System when we could use the awesome Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay.
On my end, I could never get around how to portray the story that's faithful to the source material. I felt that just having the characters walking around as adventurers was a disservice to the campaign world because it ignores the soul of the setting: the company. I was afraid the storyline could degenerate into a railroaded, series of missions if the players were just footsoldiers in the company.
The best way to play the game, in my opinion, was to run a 17+ player group. The novels are about a mercenary army, so why not get an army of players to fill up it's rank. Ok, just ignore the organizational pandemonium that would be scheduling a game with 17 people with different schedules. Furthermore, lets also assume that those 17 players don't mind waiting for their turn in 3 hour long combat encounters. A huge group will simulate the platoon experience perfectly: friendships are forged, reputations are made, and "good guys" are lost. One of the players is made commanding officer: it's up to him to send the others into combat and maybe certain death. What would he do if the other characters lost faith in him? How do the other characters deal with a bad commanding officer?
A big part of each session will go towards inter-character relationship building. Running this type of game would be similar to running a Minds Eye Theater Live action game. The GM would just lurk in the background while the players go around the table politicking. Then, every once in a while, a mission will pop up for a group of players to head out and eliminate those that stand against the company.
It would be kind of hard to find 17 people to game with, so the idea was scratched.
Yesterday I stumbled into a post about Entourage gaming in Sham's Grog 'n Blog ( a much better blog than this one!). It got me thinking about my aborted Black Company game. The basic idea behind entourage gaming could easily be applied to a BC campaign. Entourage gaming calls the creation of a stable of characters for a player to develop during the campaign. A player could create three different characters ( Joker, Deafblind, and Stray Cat if he was to follow BC naming conversions). If five players joined, the campaign would have a pool of 15 characters. The gamemaster then divides the group into three different groups involved with different misadventures. This way the characters could explore the company from different perspectives. It would also give the story a grander scale as the different characters developed individual stories within the game world.
I would use Paizo's Pathfinder, because, to be quite frank, that's the only way to experience Dungeons and Dragons.
To run a Black Company D20 Game I only need:
1.Pathfinder Core Rules
2.A shitload of dice.
3. The Black Company Campaign Setting.
4.17 + players that are patient, do not desire to be in the spot light at all, and prefer to roleplay in MET fashion in a tabletop game rather than engaging in fast paced combat.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
This will hopefully be a blog about my return to the RPG hobby.