Well, that last post on wandering encounters did some pretty decent numbers.
Looks like you folks enjoy campaign design. Fine, okay, and righty-o.
With that in mind, the next few posts will have me writing campaign design for a setting of your choice. If only this thing let me post polls! Alas, it does not.
So!
If you could choose, which system/setting would you rather?
Dungeons and Dragons (Ravenloft)
Dungeons and Dragons (Radiant Citadel)
Serpentine (within the City)
Serpentine (outside the City)
Gumshoe: Tombhounds
Gumshoe: Night's Black Agents
Cyberpunk: RED
??
I deliberately put systems I want to write for on the list because, contrary to appearances, I'm not a complete idiot. Yes, I know Dreamhounds and King In Yellow exist. I'm not in a hurry to write anything for either setting. Ditto Wraith and Vampire, for much the same reason: I don't feel comfortable enough with the setting/rules to go into detail.
Setting to include the first campaign arc, on the assumption that there are three arcs total leading to some kind of Rome. What kind? Well, that will depend, really. Let's see what transpires.
The last time I did something along these lines I was talking about Blair's UK. This time I'd like to do something a bit different, but as to what ... well ...
Happy long weekend, to those of you enjoying a long weekend right about now!
One thing Dungeons and Dragons does well is filling in downtime and travel time, often with wandering encounters.
Your group penetrates the dim, lightless reaches of the haunted forest on their way to [insert dungeon here] and, quite by chance, discovers [roll dice] a dozen zombies. These zombies are former villagers from [insert village here] and if proof of their deaths is returned to that place, the heroes will be rewarded with [reward].
Or, your group penetrates the dim, lightless reaches of the haunted forest on their way to [insert dungeon here] and, quite by chance, discovers [roll dice] a dolmen, under which rests the remains of sacrificial victims. It’s not immediately clear who sacrificed them or to what end (religion rolls may be helpful here) but among the belongings is a magical sword ... possibly cursed ...
It’s rare that Cthulhu or its iterations has random encounters. Partly this is because the whole random encounter system depends on what can only be described as Ye Ancient Ways. Gygax did it therefore we do it. The only reason Ye Ancient Ways survive is because Dungeons and Dragons survives; had it dropped off the twig, as might have occurred at several points in its career, wandering monsters would vanish like a magician’s assistant in a colorful, coffin-shaped box.
I can’t think of many other systems that use random tables, and this is because the ones that do are about as old as Dungeons and Dragons or are stealing their design philosophy directly from that system. Cyberpunk, for instance, has random tables, but then Mike Pondsmith is as old as dirt. (Sorry, Mike, but you know it’s true.)
I wouldn’t be at all surprised if, in some of the earliest iterations of the game, Call of Cthulhu had them too, since CoC (and BRP for that matter) are also old as dirt. It doesn’t have them now.
Partly this lack of random tables is because random encounters assume travel from A to B and Cthulhu and its variants really don’t do travel. At all.
There are whole scenarios based around travel. Pelgrane has its Mythos Expeditions and CoC has Fearful Expeditions, but those stories aren’t about travel, really. They’re about what might happen to the group if they decide to catch a Tabor aircraft to Constantinople. The encounters aren’t random. They’re preplanned.
Similarly with long campaigns about going from A to B, like Horror on the Orient Express or Masks of Nyarlathotep. There are travel segments, and things might happen. However, almost none of the encounters are random. There are no dice rolls to see if there are orcs, or the equivalent, round the next bend. It’s all Keeper’s Choice.
In most cases, in Cthulhu and horror games generally, the action is broken up, not by journeys, but by scenes. The players want to go to the British Library. Boom. Next scene, at the Library. Have the players finished at the Library? Boom, next scene, at the pub. There’s no question of travel from [wherever] to [wherever next]. If there is any hint of travel, say, from the town to the haunted house, then it takes less than a day. It isn’t a ten-day hike across wooded terrain, in which anything might happen.
That said, going back into the misty recesses of time, space and RPG history, there was a game that used random encounters which also divided action up by scenes.
The James Bond RPG (Victory Games) had two encounter tables, one Hot, one Cold. Director’s choice as to which was used at any given time, point being one was for an active encounter area and the other for a more peaceful zone.
Roll a d6 and then a d6. Did you roll 2 and 2? Is this a Hot zone? Then the agent found a dead body. Is it a Cold zone? Then the agent finds James Bond his own self. On vacation, presumably. A brief description came with each. The dead body might have a clue on it to the villain’s location. James Bond might be willing to help for a scene.
What I like about that idea isn’t so much the table itself. It’s the dividing up of possibilities. Hot, or Cold?
Dracula Dossier does something similar. Whether it’s Whitby or Varna or some forgotten castle in the piney woods, the location can be Cool or Warm. A former bastion of wickedness long gone to seed, or a germinating pustule about to burst. This duality fits horror nicely. Maybe the investigators are somewhere relatively safe, where they might get information. Maybe they’re somewhere dangerous, where they might get killed – or get someone else killed.
Let’s take this a step further. I’m going to presume Gumshoe rules, and for purposes of this example it doesn’t matter whether the game’s Trail, Bookhounds, Tombhounds or something else. Let’s keep this as generic as possible and assume it’s a Horror Game of Some Description.
Let’s further assume two possibilities: Hot, or Cold. Dangerous, or (relatively) safe.
Starting with:
Cold
1. Helpful civilian, who works with an agency or entity that the protagonists want to get closer to. It might be the police, or the local museum, or the state intelligence agency, or something else. Point spends turn this civilian into a Network Contact.
2. Lucky break. The protagonists get a bit of luck, for once, and can either refresh 1 point in an Investigative pool of their choice, or 2 points Stability. Perhaps they find a helpful source of information, or perhaps they just have a quiet, Stability-refreshing moment in a safe location.
3. Minor Threat. This threat (it might be a small cult, or a supernatural threat) has been left over from a time when this area was more important than it was. Though its information is outdated, if defeated the threat does have information on nearby threats that can be traced to more important assets.
4. Minor Location. This was once of importance and now very much is not. However, a thorough search may uncover an item which can be recovered and used against the enemy.
5. Minor Brush with the local law. This may mean a temporary halt to investigations while the protagonists untangle their messy legal situation.
6. A chance meeting with a hunter, or an agent from a supernatural-curious agency. The agency can be anything from a state actor to an academic or religious institution. This agent is willing to exchange ideas and information, if the protagonist offers to do the agent a small favour ...
Hot
1. Unhelpful civilian. This person works with an agency or entity that the protagonists are trying to get close to and is blocking their efforts. Is this because they're being bribed by the enemy? Or are their motives purely personal?
2. Bad Omen. The protagonists encounter a particularly significant supernatural event, a 2-point Stability check. Clearly they're getting close to their prey, but at what cost?
3. A brush with a cult or cult-equivalent. The protagonists discover unmistakable evidence that a cult is operating in their current location. This seems too easy; is it a trap?
4. A significant location. It might be a pawnshop or antique dealer selling items that look remarkably like supernatural items, or it might be a church or similar with a very significant history. Either way, there could be all sorts of things down in the basement ...
5. Significant brush with the state intelligence agency. This agency is keeping a close watch on the protagonists, perhaps because of things they got up to in the past or because they look remarkably like terrorists/bad actors. Either way, until they shake this tail any significant or violent action taken by the protagonists provokes a response. Possibly an armed response, depending on how badly the protagonists have behaved before. Were they careless with matches?
6. A chance meeting with a significant supernatural threat. This entity isn't looking for a fight but will oblige if provoked. However, this entity also isn't on good terms with the major threat of the scenario/campaign and can, if appropriately rewarded, dish all kinds of dirt on the real enemy.
That's it for this week!
Yes, I know there still seems to be problems with Many Mansions. Honestly, that Beta program is far more trouble than it's worth. I'm trying to fix. Watch this space!
[Technically this should have come out last week. I had internet issues.]
It's here at last! Or it will be once I sort out DriveThru.
See, I trusted that Beta system DriveThru has in place. I used the Old Ways for the initial post, the Main Book. That's why you saw that on DTRPG but nothing else; the old ways work. Then I figured I'd use the Beta for the other three in the series.
Well, gosh. Also, darn.
Won't be doing that again.
What I will do is re-post using the Old Ways, so you should be able to see all four books soon.
However! Far be it for me to witter when I could Witter. It's out! It's here at last!
For those of you wondering, the Main Book covers everything you need to know about the main campaign concepts, the setting, important recurring locations, Read House, and so on. That's why that one is set as Pay What You Want. I was in two minds about this. I could have set the price at $4, same as the rest, since in terms of word count the Main Book is about the same count. Longer, if anything. But that didn't seem right, so I went with PWYW.
An Extract!
Rome's Four Things
You know what Rome is, for Many Mansions: Cthulhu in its Chorazin avatar. What does this mean in practice?
1.Dream Logic, especially bizarre and disjointed imagery.
2.A Sensation of Drowning or being trapped in a suffocating situation or location.
3.Empty Houses and Shopfronts, places that have been abandoned to time and the elements.
4.Blank-Faced Creatures or People, wiped clean of all features and expressiveness, with nothing left but a vacant mask of flesh.
As Keeper, feel free to invoke Rome whenever it suits you, or suits the plot.
For example: the investigators walk down a busy street on a Saturday morning. Everything seems bright and cheerful. Until they turn around and look back the way they came and see that the houses and storefronts they just walked past are all empty.
For example: the investigators walk into a dust-filled room. At first they choke and cough. Then their lungs begin to fill with liquid – or is it liquid? Can’t breathe! Can’t breathe! Must get out! Must get air!
For example: the investigators step out of their bedroom and straight onto Broome Street. How did that happen? Why did it happen? Why is it nighttime, when only a moment ago it was early morning? Why do all the clouds in the sky look like laughing faces?
For example: the librarian’s face is wiped completely clean, featureless, blank as the surface of an egg!
The other four books are scenarios in the campaign.
In Memoriam - In which the investigators may attend a funeral in a church that does not yet exist.
When Tides Are Right - In which the investigators may find themselves adrift on Pilot Island.
Your Number, Please - In which our protagonists chase up rumors of a fault on the telephone line.
I enjoyed writing these! I have a weakness for Dream or Dream-inspired stories, it's why I have a fondness for Clark Ashton Smith and Lord Dunsany. This let me play with that idea for ... so many words!
One of my weaknesses as a writer is that I have difficulty believing I can finish a novel-length project. I don't think I'm alone in this. Projects like Many Mansions proves to me - and me is the only audience I care about - that I can finish a novel-length project. Between them, the whole thing's about 60,000 words, more or less.
I'm also getting better at Omitting Needless Words.
See? I Omitted a stack of Needless Words just now. You can't tell, because they're Omitted.
Darn, that feels good.
Anyway! The added bonus is that I could slot in more of these without causing trouble for the existing work. None of them are timeline dependent. None of them depend on another scenario for their plot. Two of them introduce characters who could remain in the narrative but don't have to.
So! Want to see more of these? Then buy these. Encourage your friends to buy them. 'Cause the only thing which will get me to write more is sales, buddy, sales. Also, constant praise. But mainly sales.
I hope you enjoy Many Mansions!
Now, since I've had this in every other Many Mansions boost it feels a shame to leave it out:
J.J. Heidegger, Master of the Revels to the first two Georges, lived and died here in 1749. He was the ugliest man of his age and is caricatured by Hogarth in his print 'Heidegger in a Rage.' He was said to be the originator of the masked assembly which had great vogue on account of the license it allowed. People are willing to do things when masked which they would never dare to do when they were recognizable ...
From Wikipedia:
... the functions of Master of the Revels gradually became extended and the office acquired the legal power to censor and control playing across the entire country. This increase in theatrical control coincided with the appearance of permanent adult theatres in London. Every company and traveling troupe had to submit a play manuscript to the Office of the Revels. The master read the manuscript and sometimes even attended rehearsals. Once a play was approved, the master would sign the last page of the manuscript. The licensed manuscript attesting to the Master of the Revels' approval of a play was a treasured item for playing companies. When traveling and taking a play into the country troupes had to carry the licensed copy of the play manuscript. There was a licensing fee charged by the Office of the Revels for the approving of plays. Tylney charged seven shillings per play ...
The Duke of Montague gave a dinner at the 'Devil Tavern' to several of the nobility and gentry, who were all in the plot, and to which Heidegger was invited. As previously arranged, the bottle was passed round with such celerity, that the Swiss became helplessly intoxicated, and was removed to another room, and placed upon a bed, where he soon fell into a pro-found sleep. A modeller, who was in readiness, then took a mould of his face, from which a wax mask was made. An expert mimic and actor, resembling Heidegger in height and figure, was instructed in the part he had to perform, and a suit of clothes, exactly similar to that worn by the master of the revels on public occasions, being procured, everything was in readiness for the next masquerade.
The eventful evening having arrived, George II, who was in the secret, being present, Heidegger, as soon as his majesty was seated, ordered the orchestra to play God Save the King; but his back was no sooner turned, than his counterfeit commanded the musicians to play Over the Water to Charlie. The mask, the dress, the imitation of voice and attitude, were so perfect, that no one suspected a trick, and all the astonished courtiers, not in the plot, were thrown into a state of stupid consternation. Heidegger hearing the change of music, ran to the music-gallery, stamped and raved at the musicians, accusing them of drunkenness, or of a design to ruin him, while the king and royal party laughed immoderately ... The master of the revels, turning round and seeing his counterpart, stared, staggered, turned pale, and nearly swooned from fright. The joke having gone far enough, the king ordered the counterfeit to unmask; and then Heidegger 's fear turning into rage, he retired to his private apartment, and seating himself in an arm-chair, ordered the lights to be extinguished, vowing he would never conduct another masquerade unless the surreptitiously-obtained mask were immediately broken in his presence. The mask was delivered up, and Hogarth's sketch represents Heidegger in his chair, attended by his porter, carpenter, and candle-snuffer, the obnoxious mask lying at his feet.
From this:
The Bogus Hogarth
The Hounds are asked to authenticate a collection of Hogarth prints that one of their regulars wants to buy.
The alleged collection was compiled by Hogarth contemporary George Steevens and was found at Maids of Honour Row during a clear-out of one of the houses. It's part of a general auction of contents of that house, to be held at the house in a week's time.
Steevens. a Shakespearean scholar and an ardent bibliophile, is known to have been a collector of Hogarth and to have compiled his etchings and sketches into one of the most complete bound, annotated volumes known to exist. Steeven's library was sold at auction when he died in 1800, and the sale catalogue of the auction is kept at the British Museum.
Study of the catalogue will want a 1-point spend, to get access to the British Library, and shows that there was a collection of Hogarth prints sold at the auction to one William Alderson, a known member of the Phoenix Club, an offshoot and successor to Dashwood's more famous Hellfire Club.
Alderson is known to have lived at Maids of Honour Row, according to parish records, for a period in the later 1790s. Steevens died in 1800, which is when Alderson is supposed to have acquired his collection. Could Alderson have left his copy at Maids of Honour Row when he decamped to the Americas in 1805, with scandal hot on his heels after an alleged devil-summoning?
The collection itself is a folio-bound collection of prints, annotated by the binder. It is in remarkable condition for its age and seems to have survived the passing centuries without a stain either on its character or pages.
Close study reveals a curious anomaly. There is a print of Hogarth's Heidegger in a Rage. However, the print in the book does not match the known Hogarth version of that print. In this version, the Heidegger seems fearful rather than outraged, and the mask on the floor isn't the vaguely Punchinello version known to exist in other editions. It's an altogether more sinister version, which someone with Mythos will recognize as resembling the Pallid Mask of Yellow King lore. Assuming the collection is a genuine set of Hogarth with this one curious anomaly, how did this come to pass?
Option One: Fakery. The collection is bogus, planted by a shop rival who wants to lure the regular over to their establishment. They think if they can humiliate the Hounds by getting them to authenticate a fake, the regular will quit the Hounds in disgust and take their money with them. The Heidegger is less a Mythos relic and more evidence of the forger's disturbed mind. The forger has gone one step too close to the mysteries and it is showing up in their work. This could cause problems; funny Hogarths aren't the only thing this forger has managed to bring into the world ...
Option Two: Hellfire Fakery. The Hogarths are real and the Heidegger is an artefact of the period. However, it is not a Hogarth. It was made by Hellfire Club enthusiast William Alderson who deliberately tipped it into the Hogarth collection as a clue to a hidden treasure: his personal copy of the King In Yellow. This isn't the traditional version of the play as it is known to Mythos scholars; the French play was published in 1895, and Alderson was dead long before then. This, according to some scholars, is a translation of the Greek which was the inspiration for the French version. This branch of scholarship has long since been discredited; nobody with sense believes there was a Greek version of the King in Yellow, still less that it was penned by Aristophanes. The idea's absurd. But Alderson clearly believed it ... and Alderson was dead long before 1895, so he might have been onto something ,,,
Option Three:King Fakery. Technically this isn't a fake. It's completely genuine. It just doesn't belong in this timeline. Can a thing be real if it shouldn't exist in this reality? How did it get here? Why do its pages shimmer in the moonlight? Why does everyone seem to be wearing masks? Who are those curious dancers fluttering just on the edge of perception, and why do they smile so oddly? The answer may lie with the shop regular, whose pursuit of the King In Yellow has led them to see elements of that forbidden piece of literature everywhere they go. It's becoming a problem for everyone, as the regular's obsessions are bleeding out into mundane reality.
