Book Thieves (Bookhounds of London)

FACILIS descensus Averni' might well be the motto for any article or chapter dealing with the above comprehensive 'avocations.' Once started on his career, the book-thief may be regarded as entirely lost. At the Middlesex Sessions a few years ago a genius of the name of Terry was sentenced to six years' imprisonment for stealing books. On inquiry it was found that this same person had already been in prison six times, two terms of eighteen months each, one term of five years' penal servitude, and another of seven years, all for stealing books.

Each thief has his own special modus operandi, which he varies according to circumstances. There are those who do it without any adventitious aid, and those who cover their sin with various accessories. First, the ordinary book-thief, who watches his opportunity when the shopkeeper is not looking, and simply slips the book quickly under his coat and departs. This method is plain and simple in execution, but sometimes dangerous in practice. Then there is the man who wears an overcoat, the lining of the pocket of which he has previously removed, so that he can pass his hand right through while apparently only standing still looking on, with his hands quietly in his pocket, possibly with one hand openly touching something, whilst the other is earning his dinner.

An amusing incident was once the experience of a London bookseller. While sitting behind his counter inside the shop, he was amazed one day at seeing a man running at a tremendous rate, and, momentarily slackening his speed to seize a book off the stall, he had disappeared before the astounded bookseller was able to get to the door. And it is remarkable that, though many people were about, no one seems to have noticed the thief take the book, though they saw him running. Another favourite device is to carry a newspaper in the hand, and when no one is looking deposit the paper on a carefully-selected book within the folds; or having an overcoat carried on the arm to quickly hide something under cover of it. This latter method requires, of course, a well-to-do-looking man, and obviously is chiefly confined to the stealers of the higher class of valuable books. It also requires, like every well-managed business, a certain amount of capital, for it is absolutely necessary—in order to lull suspicion—that small purchases should be made from time to time in the hunting-ground that has been chosen for the season.  

THE BOOK-HUNTER IN LONDON, W. Roberts

If a thing has value, someone will want to steal it. 

The Shop has plenty of things it keeps under lock & key. If it has a copy of a Mythos text, whatever that text may be, it's probably not up front with the Agatha Christies. It'll be in some locked glass-fronted cabinet, some secure-yet-public location. After all, if the public don't know it exists they won't try to buy it, so it's got to be somewhere visible (ish). 

But most of its stock will be out. Where people can touch it. 

That exposes it to risk. 

The thief is also exposed to risk. Arrest. Prison time. Roberts casually mentions a four-month bit for one unlucky book thief, which seems remarkable. It's difficult to imagine a shoplifter getting that kind of sentence, but then we're talking about valuable merchandise. But there's also the public shame, the damage to reputation. After all, when we're talking about book collectors we're talking about a small group of people whose identities are well-known. If it's public knowledge that they steal, then they'll have difficulty getting into shops, or buying on credit, or buying at all. That can be a fate worse than death for a bibliophile. 

But the chief thing to bear in mind is, this risk means everyone involved is going to be careful about what they do and how they do it. The simple quick-grab described above works for the stuff kept in an outside stall, but how many truly valuable items are going to be out there?

I've mentioned Book Row before. That New York institution demonstrates just how dangerous an organized book gang can be. Harry Gold and his confederates robbed libraries and Book Row blind and, at the same time, profited from Book Row by selling on his trophies. They developed book theft as a kind of organized network. There would be someone at the center - the Gold character - organizing the mob, giving it targets, giving it direction. There would be operatives who would go out and identify the most valuable items. Then, on the heels of those operatives, someone would actually do the stealing. They'd seem polite, knowledgeable, not suspicious at all. But when they left your shop or library your collection would be lighter.

From the Hounds' perspective an organized book theft ring is both a threat and an opportunity, assuming they're not the ones organizing the ring. Their collection is at risk. However, their collection can be expanded, if they're willing to buy stolen goods.

In game terms, the presence of book thieves can represent a Reverse. Someone's been targeting the shop's stock, so it could also be represented by reducing the Stock pool in some way. It could also be considered a ding to Credit Rating, which can affect the shop's ability to do business. In role play, this could be represented by an uncomfortable moment with a disappointed client, or an impervious bobby taking a statement. 

"What went missing, sir? I see. [scribbles in notebook]. A valuable item, would you say? I see. [scribbles]."

The professional thief is relatively well equipped and will have a decent Filch score as well as a means of hiding the goods, perhaps in a capacious overcoat specially equipped with hidden pockets. Or they may have a confederate waiting in the wings for a hand-off, but judging by what's written about book thieves they seem to work as lone operators most of the time. It's not like shoplifting, where a team might work the shop. 

Also worth bearing in mind is that thieves work for money. Seldom do they steal to enrich their own collections, if they have a collection. That being so, they're not going to steal anything which doesn't have a definite worth but they will steal to order, if asked to do so. Which suggests that they know a little about what they're stealing, but just enough to know valuable from tat. Not any real Magick, or any understanding of the Mythos.

Sounds like plot hook material to me.

With all that in mind:

Sticky Fingers

Rumor has it that someone's been targeting book shops.

That's nothing new. Thieves have always been a problem in the trade. The Three Blind Mice are a known quantity. But whoever this new chap is, they have a very specific type. They like occult grimoires, and particularly Mythos texts. You know for a certainty that several libraries have been pilfered, and that the British Library takes the threat so seriously it's taken special precautions over its copy of the Necronomicon. 

But who is this thief, and who are they trying to impress? There must be a well-heeled collector out there somewhere who's funding the show. Is this purely for someone's collection, or does the collector have a particular goal in mind?

Perhaps more pressing, how to stop this fellow from getting at the shop's stock?

Option One: The Amateur. The collector is Jacob D'Aster the ghost hunter and vampire enthusiast. Jacob has decided to create the world's foremost collection of material related to hauntings and bloodsuckers and has brought someone over from the Continent to get this done. The Frenchman goes by the nom de guerre Flambeau, possibly borrowed from a popular novel. Flambeau, ironically, knows a bit more about the topic than his employer and is stealing things that D'Aster wouldn't know what to do with, but these are the genuine articles and D'Aster doesn't want to look a fool, so he keeps paying for them.  Problems will arise when some of the owners band together to get their mythos grimoires back.

Option Two: The Professional. The collector is a member in good standing of one of the cults of London - it might be the Keirecheires, or the Witch-Cult - and seeks promotion into the inner circle. For that to happen the collector needs a specific text but they don't know exactly what it is. Or where it is, for that matter. Their seniors guard that secret closely. However, not to be denied, they have embarked on this enterprise hoping that, as the thefts progress, they will find out what it is they want when their superiors start getting nervous and hiding the good stuff. The thieves are a small pack of shape-changing ghouls who are in the collector's service to pay off a debt. Once paid, they want nothing more to do with the collector.

Option Three: The Gifted Amateur. The collector is someone with a God's blood in their veins. If ever anyone had the In The Blood Drive, this poor soul does. They are convinced their time draws near and that they will be drawn up into the stars to face their destiny but, before that happens, they feel compelled to finish a particular ritual. This will ensure that they please their ancient fathers, when they ascend. But they don't know, exactly, what that ritual entails, so they're raiding the libraries of the occult to find out. They have brought on board the brood of Eihort; in fact, the brood may be the reason why the collector thinks they're on the verge of ascendance. The homunculi wanders from shop to shop, library to library. No ordinary lock or door can stop a flood of spidery creatures from getting where they want to go ...

That's it for this week. Enjoy!

 

Did Someone Say Murder? (CP RED, Gumshoe)

 

Writing and Design by Linda Evans and N Joll Art Direction by Winterjaye Kovach

Cyberpunk, as a system and setting, is something I've loved for a while. Mysteries are my bread and butter. When I saw this free RPG product offering from Talsorian, I was intrigued. Now I've read it, I'm still intrigued, but I wonder ...

OK, the very basics. CP RED is a combat game, with attitude. Its core mechanics revolve around the base concept of reducing something's Hit Points to 0, in creative and interesting ways. First, you have to hit it, which is a skill check. Then you do damage. 

I suppose it makes sense that this supplement says you should give a Mystery Hit Points and represent the investigative process by reducing those Hit Points to 0 in creative and interesting ways.  The system doesn't have Pool Points for investigative abilities, so it has to invent them by giving a number of clue types (Gossip, eg) and assigning those clue types existing skills within the game to provide the skill check. There's no such thing as a Core or 0-point clue and there's an argument that it's not very player facing, since the system relies heavily on a series of challenges set up like a shooting gallery by the GM. 

Or, as the text puts it, It is up to the GM to decide on the best course of action for their table.

Short version: I like it, but I wonder if I like it because I'm wired that way. I acknowledge that the groups which like playing CP RED aren't wired the same way as I. This is the sort of thing that has me enthusiastic, but if the rest of the table isn't, it's going to be a problem.

Also that It is up to the GM bit kinda grates on me. The GM is not and should not be the chef de partie. 

But!

There's an interesting concept buried in the text. Long Term Investigations.

An Edgerunner looking for someone who killed her lover five years ago may make a single Evidence Check per week as a side project when not focusing on other jobs. 

There are two ideas in there and I want to talk about both, in Gumshoe terms. 

First, it suggests that players may have individual, character-backstory mysteries to solve. This isn't something I've seen any Gumshoe setting do. I suppose that's to be expected. When the central mystery of the Campaign is whether or not the Dracula Dossier can lead the players to a final resolution of a tussle that's been consuming the brainpower and manpower of generations of spies through, among other things, two world wars and the Cold War, there's not much time for the less dramatic mystery of what happened to Uncle Bob two decades ago.

Second, it indicates that a mystery can go beyond the scenario. That it might take several scenarios to work out. Even, potentially, an entire campaign arc. 

In part, this is what Rome is all about. The central mystery that underlies all the other mysteries. The Truth. The Man Behind the Curtain.

The Wizard of Oz

But not entirely. After all, Uncle Bob isn't Rome. Also, Uncle Bob isn't a priority that the GM chose. It's a priority the player chose. 

It probably won't happen often, but there will be times when a player chooses a project to work on that's outside the campaign structure but which does require a certain level of mechanical input to close out. The closest I can think of in GUMSHOE is the Dreamhounds General Abilities Art-Making and Dreamscaping, both of which imply that something can be created or developed after passing a test. However, in neither case is the long-term nature of the project explored. It's just assumed that Player States X, a die is cast, and X either goes ahead as planned or it doesn't. 

However, there's something we can work with here.

Let's say for the sake of this example that the player has expressed an interest in a long-term goal. It doesn't matter what that goal is. Simply that, at the end of the project, the player expects to get a result of some kind which can be clearly expressed. Nothing nebulous, nothing Deeper Into The Mystery. An actual result.

Example: the player, whose character has the Revenge drive, wants to engineer a final confrontation between themselves and the vampire who killed their squad, back when they were still a trooper with the Black Watch. 

Fine. From the Keeper's perspective, this is an achievable result. Getting that confrontation doesn't have to be a campaign-ending event, not unless that vampire was Dracula. A fight to the death with one of Dracula's minions is what this kind of game is all about. 

But! The player doesn't know, at the start of the project, who that vampire is or where they are right now. Just that a vampire did it. 

When the project is announced, the Player and Keeper should get together to brainstorm. The goal here is to identify how many milestones this project has. Two? Four? Six? After all, from the Keeper's perspective this confrontation might be a relatively minor event. or a major one, or a campaign-shaking one. The bigger the bang, the greater the leadup to that bang.

From the Player's perspective, this long-term goal may be the biggest thing they've ever done. Regardless of its impact on long-term plot. The Keeper should bear that in mind. The Player expects big things, even if that doesn't impact long-term plot.

Each milestone should represent a clue along the way, perhaps even a physical artefact. Milestone one might be getting hold of the Top Secret after-action report on the encounter between the Black Watch and whatever-it-was. Milestone two might be a tense, secretive encounter between the player and the secret agent who set the encounter up to see what would happen. Milestone three might be interrogating a Conspiracy goon or technician who has the complete scoop, from the Conspiracy's POV. And so on, but the point is this: whatever the milestone, it has a concrete result which is specified in advance. The Player doesn't know what's in that after-action report, but the Player does know there's an after-action report out there to be had.   

Why? Because Players react positively when they're invested in what's happening at the table. It's why this game is player-facing to begin with. The Player will be interested in the result of their long-term goal first, if they chose the goal, and second, if they have at least a rough idea of what they're getting out of it. The shiny loot. The clue. Remember that brain-storming session. They helped you decide what each Milestone was going to be. Let's not cheat and say that the Milestone you thought was X was Y all along. Red herrings can be entertaining; bullshit seldom is. 

OK, you've brainstormed, you have the milestones. Now what?

Now the Player needs to build up a pool to get those milestones. That pool can be made up of XP, gained at the end of every mission, or Clues gained during a mission. X number of pool points = 1 milestone. The Keeper and Player should agree between them as to whether a particular Clue counts towards the pool. The number of points needed to get a milestone should be agreed in advance and may vary, depending on the campaign importance of the end goal. 

In DD terms, an end goal that involves Dracula in some way, or some other campaign-ending result, should be more expensive than an end goal which does not touch on such a sensitive subject.

Now, XP is valuable stuff. It can be exchanged for permanent character boosts. If you're going to exchange XP for milestones, that milestone ought to be some kind of permanent thing. The after-action report, eg, counts as 1 pool point Research for campaign purposes, that sort of thing. The player can always use it for their stated goal without drawing on that Research point, but if they want to use it for anything else (divining a vampiric Bane, eg) then that Research point must be spent. 

As with all of this, the actual value of any given Milestone should be agreed between Director and Player. 

What happens when all Milestones are met?

The final result is achieved. There is a combat scene between the Player and the Vampire, on the Players' stated terms. Or they finally find out what really happened to Uncle Bob. Whatever the stated end goal is, that's what's achieved. 

I doubt this will come up often. Most players are happy with the campaign as is. But some of them are going to be invested enough to come up with special projects, now and again. Some end result that is outside the campaign framework.

Did Someone Say Murder points to a means by which that need can be met.

Enjoy!

Bone Ash - RPG All

This week's post is inspired by this Guardian article:

[Chinese] Practice of using apartments to store relatives’ ashes has risen as rapid urbanisation and ageing population increases competition for cemetery plots

It is difficult to picture a world in which space in cemeteries costs more than space in apartment buildings. Or that you can rent an apartment for more than three times longer than you can space in the grave. I have to wonder what happens to cemetery remains when your time runs out and there's no more money. Presumably the grave is emptied but I have a hard time believing the remains are just flung into a midden. Yet ... what else could happen?

Picture being the person who lives in the same building as one of these Bone Ash Apartments. You know what that quiet door on the same corridor as you hides. You recognize some of those who come and go. You can smell the incense. There may be peculiar deliveries. Perhaps priests come to visit. Or you hear ceremonies. But you can't intrude, you can't comment. That is their grief. One day it may be yours. 

There must be someone from the family who comes round on a regular basis. Someone has to make sure the proper observances are made, that the apartment is kept in good order. That person has to take time off work to do it, or perhaps they don't work, or perhaps they come round after work. They would be the public face of the family, the one the neighbors see. But there would be a family, perhaps dozens of people scattered all over, all of whom have an interest in what goes on in that apartment.

I wonder what effect this has on a person's social credit. It can't be misconduct, not precisely, and yet ... like any system there must be grey areas, the neither-this-nor-that, and operating a bone ash apartment feels very much a neither-this-nor-that. Someone's name has to be on the lease. Someone pays utilities. Whoever that person is, they're removing an apartment from the pool that might otherwise be occupied by the living. Does this count as 'other non-life and non-work essential consumption behavior'? If that person passes on the lease to someone else in the family - which presumably they must do at some point, since nobody lives forever and a seventy-year lease could easily go through multiple owners - what impact will that have on the inheritor? 

All that said, let's consider the RPG impact. 

Systems like D&D don't go much into religion or funerary behavior. Despite the number of scenarios taking place in crypts or graveyards. The role of the Gods is to grant spells to player characters and occasionally Smite things, not to actually have Views and Opinions as to what mortals should be doing with their time. When funerals come up, if they come up at all, there's the general (rather confused) view that funerals are a bit like the Judeo-Christian-but-not-really plop 'em in the ground and call it a day. Assuming there is a ground. Finding space for cemeteries is a problem that fantasy cities don't seem to have, in contrast to real-life London or Paris for whom cemetery space has been a constant headache. It's just assumed there's a nice spot round here somewhere to plonk your most recent player character, who tragically fell in the fight against Monster-of-the-Week syndrome.

Swords of the Serpentine goes out of its way to mention statues, and hints at an involved funerary practice.

Hundreds of thousands of statues. They’re in canals, on roofs, filling homes and staring out from niches in walls. It’s illegal to destroy a funerary statue, because that could destroy a soul, so families put the statues of their dead anywhere they can find space. A surprising number of crimes in Eversink involve funerary statues ... 

I don't think Cyberpunk RED mentions funerals, funeral homes or cemeteries at all. The impression the main text gives indicates Night City is desperate for space, so there seems to be no room for, say, a Père Lachaise or a Forest Lawn. Maybe a bone ash apartment would have a place in Night City but given how apartments are also at a premium that seems counterintuitive. 

Night's Black Agents mirrors the real world and Dracula Dossier makes time for Asian vampires so it seems reasonable that a scenario set in China, or somewhere influenced by China, would have a Bone Ash apartment. Theoretically they might exist outside China, anywhere there's a significant Chinese diaspora. I wonder, for instance, what the situation is in Macao. Or hell, Puerto Rico, or anywhere else there's been a significant modern Chinese presence. 

Let's establish some baselines.

• This is a public hidden space. It looks like an apartment, a business, a whatever-it-may-be, but it's not.
• It has deep significance for the people who maintain it, who regularly hold rituals here.
• It is owned/operated/maintained by a group of people who may or may not be related by blood but are definitely working towards the same end result.
• If there is a supernatural component, that component is more significant than a single ghost or haunting. In a world where, say, Aberrance pools exist, the site's pools might be higher than expected.

Dungeons & Dragons (or Similar)

The Guildhall

This space is within territory claimed by the Beggar's Guild, who may or may not be closely aligned with the Thieves' Guild. To look at, the building the space is in has been abandoned for years. However, there is a section protected by hidden walls and doors (makeshift, but surprisingly well constructed) where the beggars venerate their dead. Each soul memorialized here is represented by something they valued in life. It might be a cane, a scrap of clothing, a sketch. Whatever this thing is, it is up on a series of shelves put there by the beggars. At first it would have been a few items, nothing much, but over time the space has grown into a small library of the city's forgotten. These are the ones who couldn't afford anything better. Their successors remember them.

Swords of the Serpentine

City Watch Pub

From the outside, this is no different from any one of a dozen other cheap alehouses in the district. However, each of these is marked with Lady Swan somewhere on or near the door. This is where the Constables and Sergeants gather. Technically Inspectors and above are still considered Constables, but they aren't exactly welcome in the Pubs, though they are sometimes seen there. Each of the Pubs has a memorial board of some description. They vary from Pub to Pub, and some are much more elaborate than others. The Boards tell the stories behind the statues, remembering the deeds of Constable such-and-such who fell in the line of duty. The Constable's statue will be somewhere in the Pub. It is tradition for new Constables to 'buy a round for the house' after their first big arrest, and that includes the statues who get alcohol poured over them. It's said that Sorcerers covet the power that gathers in these places, or are afraid of these places, or that Sorcery works differently there. It's not clear whether this is so, or just something the City Watch tells themselves at night, when their fears hang on their shoulders.

Cyberpunk RED

The Wall

Every district has one. The taggers' Wall, covered in signs and graffito. Under all that paint there's a memorial for every joker who thought they'd make a name for themselves in Night City. Under all that paint, because every night there's more jokers adding their tags, making their names. The cops don't even think about touching the Wall. Every so often there's some Corporate who makes a big stink about quality of life, cleaning up the city, who promises big investments if only someone will take care of the Wall. It never happens. What's more likely to happen is that the Corporate in question is run out on a rail, sometimes literally. The last one got out buck naked in a corp limo so liberally covered in tags that, the stories say, the Corporation had to burn it and did their best to wipe the screams clean of all images. The most elaborate Wall, they say, is in Little China, which has a braindance studio attached. There, for a fee, you can jack in and listen to all the messages left behind by the dead. A kind of 'only after my death' message in the metaphorical bottle.  

That's it for this week. Enjoy!