KGB Museum Kaput (NYC, Night's Black Agents)

Once upon the Before Times I went to NYC and visited a charming little KGB Museum down on 14th Street. I gave it a moderately glowing review. 

I’m going back to NYC after a longish hiatus and have been planning out my day-to-day schedule. Go here, buy books there, maybe find time to see Dementia 13 at the Film Forum, so on and so forth. It suddenly occurred to me: did the KGB Museum survive COVID? 

Alas, Babylon! No, it did not. 

The NY Times recorded its demise back in October of 2020. The originator of the collection, Lithuanian enthusiast Julius Urbaitis, said he was closing up shop due to, well, the world in general, alack the day, and the collection would be put up for auction. Artnet goes on to give a date for that auction: Feb 13, 2021. 

So much for a kitschy bit of New York. Mind you, it does mean that the hokey gift cup I bought for my brother that Christmas is a valuable collector’s item, being as they can’t have sold many before the business went belly-up.  

Urbaitis claims, in the Times article, that the museum “was “very successful” in attracting visitors who paid $25 to enter.” I mean, anything’s possible, but when I was there it was me and two other people. Admittedly that was early hours on a Friday. Here’s hoping it was busier on other days. 

The collection was liquidated by Julien’s Auctions out in Beverly Hills, California, which has in its time dealt with everything from Elvis to Betty White. According to the auction results most of the items went for reasonable sums – nothing earth-shaking, often in the hundreds and sometimes in the thousands.

All of which brings me to two things. 

First, this is the last post this month. Next weekend I shall be enjoying the COVID-riddled fun times of NYC and will bring back exotic grimoires from long-forgotten dens of iniquity, like the Argosy and the Mysterious Bookstore. With luck I’ll find time for Hex & Co, which is a new one on me.  

Second, with all of the above in mind let’s have a Dracula Dossier scenario seed based on the all-too-short career of the KGB Museum. 

Babylon The Great Is Fallen. 

A notorious and unlucky collector of spy ephemera, mostly World War Two vintage stuff with a bit of early Cold War thrown in for fun, has been forced to liquidate his collection. The job of turning tat into cash has been given to a Californian auction house, and all signs indicate the Californians have their work cut out for them. 

However, you’ve discovered (either through your contacts or some other means) that someone closely connected with the Conspiracy shall attend the auction in person. You’re not sure why. You don’t know what they want to bid on. It’s very rare for this person to even leave Europe, never mind go to California.  

What can they be up to? Is there something genuinely valuable amongst the dross? 

• Option One: the Conspiracy bigwig is genuinely interested in one of the items, a World War Two era assassination tool that, Vampirology confirms, would actually be very useful against vampires and might have been used to kill a Conspiracy member, back in the day. It’s not clear whether the bigwig wants this killing tool for their own reasons or because the Conspiracy wants it. 
• Option Two: the Conspiracy bigwig is attempting a Yojimbo Option swindle. The bigwig is on the outs with another bigwig and is trying to make it seem as if B1 is after a genuine relic. This, B1 hopes, will lure in B2, at which point B1 will finagle it so B2 buys a fraud at eye-watering prices. This will reduce B2’s standing within the Conspiracy, which will make B1 very, very happy. Of course, if the agents were to intervene … 
• Option Three: the Conspiracy bigwig has been lured in by an Edom artefact which, by some happenstance, managed to find its way into the collection. Or so the bigwig thinks; in fact the artefact was deliberately placed there by Edom as a lure. Edom wants to flip the bigwig, and this is all part of a scheme to lure them to California, out of their comfort zone, where they can be fooled into doing something stupid/compromising. With that handy blackmail material, Edom will have enough to flip the bigwig. Enter the agents. Are they working for Edom? Are they free agents? Are they about to do something remarkably foolish and/or dangerous in Beverly Hills? 

That’s it for this week! Enjoy.   

The Knocking (Bookhounds of London)

It was hard to believe that Mr. Francis, along with Mr. Joell and Corky, had pushed a barrow of books, sometimes to the Old Caledonian market, sometimes as far as Epping market, and that they had got their supplies by ‘knocking’ – calling at houses in the hope of getting something good. 

Death of a Bookseller, Bernard J. Farmer 

Until relatively recently the Caledonian Market laboured under an infamous reputation as a place where stolen goods might legally change hands, owing to an obscure medieval law known as market overt (or marché ouvert), which guaranteed a buyer title of ownership if an item was bought in good faith here between sunrise and sunset, whatever its provenance. The law was abolished in 1994, after which the market was said to have suffered a damaging drop in trade. (Hidden London)

A brief stop at the Bookhounds of London this week, with some knocking on offer. 

I highly recommend Death of a Bookseller to any lovers of books, the book trade, and Bookhounds. I may well do a Bookshelf on it, but for now I just want to borrow the paragraph quoted for a bit of fun. 

Let’s say this is close to the opening of a Bookhounds campaign and you’d like to do a quick one-off in which the characters find enough cash to open their own shop. That implies a coup of legendary proportions, the kind of thing that makes reputations – and probably ruins someone else’s reputation.  

If this is taking place prior to a proper Bookhounds game that suggests it might be set prior to the 1930s. Not, perhaps, by much; late 20s, let’s say. The characters are younger, still have their health, full head of hair, that sort of thing. They don’t have a store, yet. They have a barrow which they push themselves, not having any other means of locomotion. 

Let’s further suggest that they’re on their way to the Caledonian Market which, at this point in its history, is actually close to the Caledonian Road. That means it’s cheek-by-jowl with the cattle market, with all the stink and blood that implies. It also means the characters can take advantage of the marché ouvert; they can sell whatever they like to whomever they like and suffer no penalty, so long as they get it done quickly and can get the hell out before someone decides to point the finger at them. No crime if you sell between sunrise and sunset, after all, and the buyer’s hardly likely to squawk. 

All of which leads to: 

The Knocking. 

You and your motley crew have, in a fit of daring, tried a knocking at a rather fancy manor house not that far from the Caledonian Road. This neighborhood would have been fashionable, once; times change, neighborhoods decay, and nowadays what looks as though it ought to have a well-dressed family and pots of servants only has the mister at home. 

Except he’s not at home. He’s dead. You find him stabbed through the heart in his library, surrounded by what you can tell at a glance is a book-hoarders paradise. You could live like kings if you could liquidate the lot, but there’s no chance you could carry it all away.  

Clues to be had:  

Sense Trouble tells you it’s only a matter of time before someone turns up. There’s every reason to think this fellow had a servant; at any rate, someone will miss him. The police could be here at any moment. 

Occult tells you that the dead man was a devotee of occult incunabula. Some of these books are incredibly rare mystic texts, Satanic compendiums, rich both with the stink of history and the stench of sulfur. In fact there’s every reason to think that he was conducting some kind of occult experiment when whoever-it-was did him in. A 2-point spend tells you that yes, he was conducting an occult experiment; a summoning. There’s no indication that whatever-it-was is still here, but then if it is a spirit it could be … well … anywhere. The Keeper might allow a 2-point spender to identify the creature being summoned: options include a Star Vampire, Rat Thing, Dimensional Shambler, Nightgaunt - anything that might be invisible, too small to notice, or fly away. How hideous you make it will determine how frightened the players are of it.

Forensics tells you that the dead man was killed by one swift strike from a bladed weapon of some kind. No hesitation, and no indication that he tried to defend himself. That suggests surprise. It also suggests the victim knew the killer and didn’t see them as a threat. There’s no sign of the weapon nor is there a lot of blood, except directly in front of the victim. There’s a pool of blood on the table over which the dead man is slumped. This blood has soaked the book he was consulting, making it almost unreadable and definitely unsellable. Pity; it would have been very valuable otherwise. 

Mythos immediately spots one book in particular that will fetch a remarkable price: De Vermis Mysteriis, the 1587 German black-letter edition. Leather binding, original parchment label pasted to front cover with printer's silver seal. Additional color plates tipped in at some point between 1620 and 1650 by an unknown artist. The Hounds can think of several collectors who might give two hundred pounds or more for it. It’s up on one of the shelves, easily taken. Of course, if you take it there will be a gap on the shelf, which might indicate to someone that something was taken. That may or may not be a concern for you. 

There's obviously a significant quantity of rarities but Document Analysis can tell the actual stuff from the tosh, allowing the Hounds to scoop another two hundred pounds in other works if they want to clean the place out. However, this takes time. Those who spend 2 points do the job quickly enough avoid being caught in the act. Those who don't hear feet tramping down the corridor ...

Once the characters decide what they want to do with the fortune that lies in front of them, or if they take too long blithering among themselves, the house servant comes back with a constable in tow. They’re in a frightful state; the mister’s upstairs, murdered! At which point the characters have to get out of the house with their loot without getting arrested or, worse yet, charged with murder. This may immediately move to a Fleeing moment should they have taken too long to gather the loot.

Next step: disposal of the loot and counting the proceeds. Easier said than done. They can take it all to the Caledonian if they wish, but such obviously pilfered stuff will take some clever moving. Otherwise, the Hounds are likely to see their profits cut considerably to mere pennies on the pound. All very well to rely on marché ouvert, but the people most likely to buy hooky goods are the ones least likely to pay a good price for it.  

The Hounds now have the following problems to solve:

• Avoid suspicion. They may have been seen. They may have left evidence behind. They may still have the most valuable items, if they didn't immediately offload them at the Caledonian. The coppers will be sniffing round their usual haunts. Time to make yourselves scarce ...
• Avoid Retaliation. If that fellow really was murdered then there's a murderer out there somewhere who may think that the best way of avoiding the hangman is making sure the Hounds swing instead. Who put the knife in that poor unfortunate occultist?
• It was one swift stab, and all indications are the killer was either very lucky or knew his victim well enough to avoid arousing the victim's suspicion. That suggests someone in the victim's immediate circle did it and judging by his bookish interests the victim knew a lot of occult and Mythos minded folks ...
• Avoid Occult Retaliation. If that fellow summoned something up, where is it? Shall it follow the Hounds home? Will they jump at every least shadow? Perhaps it wasn't a human murderer after all; perhaps this strange spirit did him in. If so, will it come back for more?
• De Vermis Mysteriis. That one book could make their fortune. It's worth at least as much as everything else they stole. The question is, what shall the Hounds do with it now? What about those mysterious tipped-in color plates; is there something more to this book than meets the eye?

That's it for this week. Enjoy!

The Clue Trail (GUMSHOE All)

GUMSHOE is a player-facing RPG that uses a clue-gathering system as its main mechanic. Find a core clue, and you uncover part of the mystery. Find a non-core clue, perhaps by spending points, and not only do you uncover part of the mystery you also gain some other advantage. The exact nature of this advantage will depend on the situation and the needs of both the player and Game Master. The player may want a specific advantage; the Game Master may find it prudent to slip the player an advantage that they don’t yet know they need. 

All of which begs the question: how many clues make a clue trail? 

As a very broad-brush approach I recommend the Rule of Four, spread across the various disciplines each system uses.  

Naturally you’re going to want to adapt this depending on the needs of your narrative and the situation you find yourself dealing with. However, GUMSHOE, unlike crunch-heavy systems, relies on an improvisational style. If this were Dungeons and Dragons you’d be doing a lot of advance planning, literally populating every room in the dungeon and giving a call-out box for descriptions. A system like, say, Night’s Black Agents is a little more fluid. The agents may decide to go to Paris to talk to the mysterious socialite, or to Berlin to track down the drug smuggling network, or to Rome to confront the crypto-terrorists. It’s not quite the same thing. No ten by ten, orc, chest, initiative, death saves, new PCs please, is what I’m getting at.  

As a reminder, the Rule of Four works like this: 

Whenever designing OPFOR - or for that matter anything else, whether it's the town the adventurers start in, the organization they work for, or the theatre which they notice as a potential adventure location, design four highlight points and no more than four. 

The average player's attention span is short, and yours is not any better. You could go deep in the weeds and design twenty different things about the OPFOR, but who apart from you will ever know it? Even you won't, not really; in the heat of play you'll forget half your notes and curse yourself later when you realize you could have used the Thing, dammit, the THING, and never did. 

As luck would have it in GUMSHOE there are generally four different sets of Abilities, representing four different ways into the problem: Academic, Technical, Interpersonal, and General. General is a little different from the others in that it represents those moments when you do a whatsis and might suck at doing the whatsis, so you roll dice. However, General can also be used for clue-gathering, and when that happens it works in much the same way as other Abilities. Spend 1 point, get a reward. Spend 2 points, either get 2 rewards or 1 really good reward. 

How do you layer the clue trail to make it seem as if the agents are following an actual line of breadcrumbs to Granny’s gingerbread house? 

Rule of Four. There are Four ways in: Academic, Technical, Interpersonal, General. What you need is one clue for each of the ways in, so one Academic, one Technical, one Interpersonal, one General. 

Why do it this way? Well, apart from the usual benefits that come with the Rule of Four, you get one extra: split four ways among the four Ability lists, someone in the group will have at least one of those Abilities with points to spend. That means no matter how Scooby Doo it gets one of your dream team will find their way to the mystery. 

It might even give the spotlight to someone who usually doesn’t get a spotlight moment. The Bang-and-Burner, happy little pyromaniac that she is, might finally have a moment to use her Flattery skills. Or whoever use their whatever – point being someone is going to get the spotlight moment, and it might not be the usual spotlight-hogger. 

Let’s put this into practice.  

Let’s say the players went to Berlin and you want them to find their way to Teufelsberg. You weren’t expecting them to be in Berlin this week, but what the heck, they’re there, and that’s what matters. Now the agents are looking for adventure in all the unexpected places. You already have Teufelsberg prepped (or at least semi-prepped) as an adventure location. The question is, what clues will lead to Teufelsberg?    

Rule of Four: no more than four clues, of which one must be Academic, one Technical, one Interpersonal, one General, and no matter what each one has to lead to Teufelsberg. What’s more, because the agents might spend 2 points in their pool, you have to have at least some idea of what might happen if they spend that extra point.  

Academic – History. One point gets the agent a general history of Teufelsberg plus the idea that the NSA left behind some interesting artefacts, buried in the rubble. Two points gets that plus some background information on Operation TOADSTOOL, the dumping-ground for potentially dangerous Nazi artefacts back in the before times. Maybe there's a specific Nazi artefact you want to drop hints about - now's the moment.

Interpersonal – Tradecraft. One point gets the agent a general history of Teufelsberg plus some old NSA files, slipped to the agent by a friendly at the local CIA station. Two points gets all that plus a free Contact, an ex-Stasi agent from the Cold War days who’s now more of a free-thinking hippie type who likes to graffiti tag Teufelsberg. 

Technical – Urban Survival. One point gets the agent a general history of Teufelsberg plus some maps and design schematics from back in the day, giving the agent a free Architecture bonus should they want it. Two points gets all that plus a guaranteed location at Teufelsberg where they will find more stuff – if they’re brave enough to go get it. 

General – Sense Trouble. One point gets the agent a general recent history of Teufelsberg plus some spooky extras (unexplained deaths, criminal activity, ghost activity, whatever suits best). Two points gets the agent all that plus one very specific clue about the type of OPFOR they will find at Teufelsberg. 

See the process? The first clue is always a general history of the encounter location, which in this case is Teufelsberg. It could have been anything really, but the larger point is this: one point gets the agent enough information to go from point A to point B, with just enough extra juice (old NSA files, hints of ghost activity) to make spending a point become an exciting option for the player.  The only slight difference is General, which gives recent history as opposed to ancient history. General tests tend to be more active in-the-moment tests, so it makes sense that a General ability used as a clue-gatherer gets up-to-date intel. 

Without the extra juice the clue becomes a core clue, or a zero-point clue. It costs nothing and gets no extra benefit.

Two points gets all the value of the first point spend, plus something special on top. A free Contact, a guaranteed reward, valuable information about the OPFOR, what-have-you. Point being, that extra spend gives the agents something of definite benefit. It might be anything but whatever it is, it’s something the player will definitely want and therefore definitely want to pay extra for. Kinda like Kickstarter, but without that pesky shipping delay. 

By keeping to a standard you can allow yourself several options. It didn’t have to be Academic – History. It might have been Academic – Research, or Occult Studies. But if you know what you need the agent to find in the first instance then it doesn’t matter which way they choose to go in. What matters is what they find when they get there.  

So if they foozle you by going in a path you hadn’t anticipated, you can still make it look good. Plaster on your blandest Cheshire Cat smile and say, ‘Vampirology? Well, as it happens you do discover …’ 

Clue planted.  

Enjoy! 

Start At The End (RPG All)

It's no good starting out by thinking one is a heaven-born genius - some people are, but very few. No, one is a tradesman - a tradesman in a good honest trade. You must learn the technical skills, and then, within that trade, you can apply your own creative ideas; but you must submit to the discipline of form. Agatha Christie

I find it useful, when designing an RPG scenario, to follow Agatha Christie's advice. She was asked many times for writing advice over the years, and as with all advice your milage may vary. However, there's one bit I think is evergreen: start at the end, and work back.

Christie, when writing her murder mysteries, would start with the corpse. She'd plot out the murder from the moment poison met lip, or knife, back. Then she'd unravel the whole narrative from that point, and with that as a blueprint would find time to sit down and write the thing. She knew, from the first moment, where the story ended. What she needed to discover was where the story began, and how the detective - be it Poirot, Miss. Marple, Tommy and Tuppence or whoever it might be - enters the narrative and finds out what happened. 

In an RPG scenario your players might not be trying to unravel a murder but they are trying to unravel something. What that something is doesn't really matter. The essential point is this: whether it's a fantasy swords and sorcery smackfest or that chilling moment when Illithid meets brain, you know from the start where you want the story to go.

All you need to do is get there.

Let's say this is a Night's Black Agents story. We already know from the main book that there are, broadly speaking, nine kinds of story:

• Destroy. The agents must destroy the local conspiracy apparat.
• Flip. The agents must flip an asset to their side.
• Heist. The agents must steal something
• Hit. The agents must kill someone
• Hunt. The agents must find someone.
• Rescue. The agents must rescue someone.
• Sneak. The agents must infiltrate a secure location.
• Trace. The agents must find something, possibly something that went missing long ago.
• Uncover. The agents must uncover a mystery.

We also know that any of those stories can be turned on their head, so for example a Reverse Hunt might be hiding someone from the Conspiracy.

For the sake of this example it doesn't really matter which of these narratives we use. One quick RNG generation later ... 9. The agents must uncover a mystery.

It goes without saying that in order for the agents to uncover a mystery the Director has to know what the mystery is. That's not what we're trying to accomplish. What we want to know is, how does this story end?

You see the same dynamic play out in film. Say this were a heist movie: Le Circle Rouge, for example.

Without giving away the plot, the story revolves around a heist but does not end with a heist scene. Few heist movies do. The heist is often a midway point, something that the characters have been working towards but not, ultimately, the point of the story. 

No, the point of the story is (not a spoiler) an imagined quote from the Buddha, presented as fact within the story's narrative:

Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, drew a circle with a piece of red chalk and said: "When men, even unknowingly, are to meet one day, whatever may befall each, whatever the diverging paths, on the said day, they will inevitably come together in the red circle."

That moment of confrontation is the point of the narrative. That is what the story strives towards.

So if you intend, say, a moment of confrontation at the end point of your narrative, then that moment of confrontation is what you must start with when plotting out your narrative. 

Let's say you've been using the Familiar Foe rules from Double Tap, p. 52:

You have done battle with a particular enemy before. Not a generic mook, not just one class of opposition, no matter how distinctive. A Familiar Foe is a named opponent, be they the “Wizard of Waziristan” or the “second Lieutenant of the Death’s Sword Brigade, Johannes Klonsveldt.”

Let's further say that this Familiar Foe is based on one of the Operatives found in the Resource Guide, p 16:

• Name: Gavin Kroeger
• Description: Mid-30s, sharp suit, sleek, energetic
• Previous Patron: Major law firm or hedge fund (Goldman Sachs or similar)

Kroeger’s a legal troubleshooter for the conspiracy. His usual role is to move money around and engage in high-level corporate and legal machinations – buying politicians, fixing elections, bribing key officials, or using the conspiracy’s resources to forcibly acquire companies and assets useful to the vampires.

Therefore the final scene of this scenario is about a showdown with Kroeger. The agents are about to meet their Familiar Foe in the red circle.

You, as Director, already know about as much as is possible about Kroeger and can add extra details as needed. Perhaps he wasn't a Renfield before but is now, because the Conspiracy are considering him for full membership and want to see whether he can handle the pressure. Perhaps he's on the outs with another highly placed Conspiracy operative and is constantly having to defend himself against attacks from the rear. 

That moment, when the agents uncover the secret, isn't the end of the scenario. It will drive them towards the end. It's a stepping-stone towards that final scene.

But that final scene is where you start with. You want to round off the narrative with a moment where Foe meets Foe, and for that reason you want to know everything you can about that final moment. Once you know that, you can plot backwards from that point and work out, say, how the agents encounter the plot hook, or where the secret is kept, or who's guarding it.

You know who - Gavin Kroeger - and you know what you're striving towards. Now ask yourself some questions about that final scene.

Where is it taking place? Let's say Berlin, why not.

What does Kroeger want? Well, that depends on whether the secret is a good one or a poison pill. Let's say it's a poison pill. Let's say it's the equivalent of a Dracula Dossier Fraudulent Item, because Kroeger wants the agents to accept the item as real and pass it on to their contact. That way Kroeger finds out who or where that contact is, so they can be dealt with.

How does Kroeger get what he wants? Well, he has access to power appropriate to the narrative, along with assets and goals. Given Kroeger is who he is, he probably isn't dancing the Hulk Smash Polka across the city. No, he'll be calling in political favors, working behind the scenes, offering massive bounties to whichever mercenary can ... and so on.

With all that in mind:

The final scenes are an extended Heat/Chase sequence across Berlin, in which Kroeger puts every possible pressure on the agents but ultimately wants them to get away so he can find out who their contact is. It doesn't really matter what the secret is or where it is; however, for the purpose of this example let's say it's something hidden in the depths of Teufelsberg, which I've talked about before.

Already you can see, I hope, the structure being built. The end scene is that extended chase across Berlin, with Kroeger and his catspaws putting as much pressure as possible on the agents as they flee from whatever it is they found at Teufelsberg. However, they don't want to actually catch the agents, which means they'll hesitate at the last moment. That hesitation might be the clue the agents need to realize that the secret they've gone to such lengths to uncover is a poison pill.

At this point you'd want to flesh out the details of that final moment. Some Berlin details, for example, with variations depending on whether this is day or night and whether this is a guns-blazing car chase or a delicate cat-and-mouse Thrilling Infiltration moment. Prepare for either one; let the players choose which one they're going to go for. You'd want to know the resources Kroeger can call on, and if there are third parties in play like that backbiting Conspiracy higher-up then you want to know what that third party can bring to bear.

Once you know all those things then you work back. How did the agents get to Teufelsberg? What do they expect to find there, and what do they actually find there? How did they get clued in that there was something at Teufelsberg worth looking for? Did Bothans die to give them that information, and if so who were those unfortunate Bothans? 

Always remember, though, that you didn't start with Bothans. You started with that face-off between the Familiar Foe and the agents on the streets of Berlin - and then you wrote the scenario.

That's it for this week! Enjoy.