Playing With Spines (GUMSHOE)

 

original source Randy Writes a Novel

If you're new to this whole GM/Director/Master of Minds malarkey, you'll probably look at the section on Clues and Spines in the main book and say 'crikey!' Possibly also 'foozle!' and 'pob!' because you have a full vocabulary.

A straightforward investigation can be seen as a series of scenes arranged in a straight line, with multiple ways to move from each scene to the one following it. Improvisation consists of reacting to the players by switching the order of scenes around or interpolating new scenes in this order. This is simple to write and run, but difficult to hide.

A looser structure will still consist of an investigative line, in which the Investigators pursue a series of core clues until they achieve a resolution of some sort. This is called the spine.

 Trail of Cthulhu p192

Let's play amateur chiropractor. 

The main setting for this example is Night's Black Agents, a modern-day spies v. vampires game.  Characters for this example are Fibber McGee, a bang-and-burner; Molly, the black-bagger, Gildersneeve, the former crime scene investigator turned Cleaner, and Belulah, the wetworker. The setting is London.

Someone's blown a hole in it.

A very small hole, but a hole nonetheless. An apartment in a Wandsworth council house exploded thanks to a mistimed suicide vest, which the powers that be are covering up under DORA as a gas leak. There's an official investigation; the agents are parachuted in as 'experts' by whichever agency sponsors them. Edom, why not.

That's the Hook, and since I like to start with action the scenario will open at that point, with the agents and the official investigators poking through the crime scene in an uneasy, mistrustful partnership. This is the inciting incident and also the first point on the Spine.

Let's take a step back.

As Director, you already know a few things. For instance:

• You know who the OPFOR are;
• You know what they want;
• You know where this is going to end.

You probably also know your players' characters well enough to be able to plan around their MOS and investigative pools. That's not a given, though; this might be a one-off for a completely fresh group. However, if you do know that, say, Molly is a fan of Electronic Surveillance and Architecture, then you can plan for a few clues that allow her to make use of those pools.

You also know one other thing.

You know the type of scene that makes up the Hook.

Some scenes are action scenes, with all the explosions and broken bones that an action scene implies. Some are investigative. Some are interstitial; that is, it transitions from one moment to another. Whichever kind of scene it is will determine, to an extent, the kind of clues the characters might find, which in turn determines how they get from point A to point B. 

This is an Investigative scene, which means agents will be drawing primarily on Technical and Academic pools. It's reasonable to assume that every group has at least some Technical and Academic expertise. Each character had the option to buy all sorts of pools at creation. 

Fibber, being a bang-and-burner, is likely to be bringing his Forensic brain to bear on the equipment and debris found at the scene. Molly will want to use Electronic Surveillance, finding security camera footage from nearby businesses and combing through it. Belulah might use Streetwise or Urban Survival to find out if any local criminal groups supplied the bomber. Gildersneeve will be drawing on his Human Terrain abilities to track the bomber's social media posts and see if there's a connection to known extremist organizations. 

All these are means by which each agent can find a clue that leads to the next Core scene. Possibly it will be a direct jump. There may be an interstitial moment, or an antagonist reaction, but ultimately clue A leads to scene B.  You, as Director, know that the agents will do this; that's how it's supposed to work. Each point in the Spine is riddled with clues that are designed specifically for this purpose. 

But.

Suppose we don't want this to be straightforward? Suppose we want a parallel spine?

In this example let's say that the OPFOR, being an extremist group puppeted by the Satanic Cult of Dracula, are meant to be detonating suicide jackets on the London Underground, spreading not just terror but also a vampire-spiced bioweapon that will create quasi-Renfields among those exposed, civilians and crime scene investigators alike. The intent being to create a subgroup of people desperate to join the Satanic Cult so they can get relief from their symptoms, while at the same time spreading terror and distrust of the bumbling authorities who let this happen.

Fine. That's what they want. 

But they're not the only people in the game. 

Which creates a second spine.

The first spine is about finding out who the bombers are, what their target is, and what their timetable is. If the agents are successful, they prevent the attacks. If they're only partly successful, or if they fail, then the bombs go off. That means conclusion of that spine comes when either there is a scene where the bombers are captured, or a scene in which the bombs go off.

Let's go a step further and say that there is a faction within Edom led by, Nails, why not, which wants those bombs to go off. If they do then it furthers his scheme, which is [whatever it may be]. Fort, who is the agents' sponsor, doesn't know which of the Princes is playing with fire and suspects this faction exists but has no proof. 

This spine is completely separate from the main event. Since the opening scene of the main event relied heavily on Technical and Academic pools, it seems reasonable that this parallel spine relies on Interpersonal pools. Which, in this example, Belulah happens to be good at. 

That gives the characters who didn't invest heavily in the other two pools a chance to shine on this parallel spine. While Fibber and the gang chase up Technical or Academic leads, Belulah breaks bones and blandishes informants in her Interpersonal search for the parallel truth at the end of the second spine. 

Which ends when the agents either expose Nails' shenanigans or fail to do so, which pleases or embarrasses their sponsor Fort. 

If I were to represent this with a diagram (I'm bad at drawing) it would look as if each spine started from the same point and then diverged. There might be occasional points where they intersect again. There might not. Both spines can be completed, or one might be completed and the other not, or the agents may fail to complete both.

Why do this? 

First, because complication and conflict drive plot and plot is the objective in every investigative game, whether it's Night's Black Agents or Mutant City Blues. You want plot. You want the players to bathe in plot. 

Second, because it gives the characters two chances to win. 

Think about it. If the bombs go off then the characters lose entirely, if there's only one spine. However, if there's two spines then there are two chances to win. OK, one win - bombs go off but Nails is exposed - is at best a Pyrrhic victory. However, every victory is a victory if you're fighting an unholy war in the blood-soaked shadows of London. 

The two spines can touch, in certain Core scenes. Let's say that the NPC investigative team is being led by someone who's indebted to Nails, for whatever reason, and tries to sabotage it so Nails' plan can succeed. The agents might use Interpersonal abilities like Cop Talk to find this out, or even to trace the team leader to a clandestine meeting with Nails. 

However, for the most part it's a completely separate chase. Will the agents uncover Nails' involvement? Will they chase up the bombing angle without ever realizing that they're making an enemy within Edom, whether they foil Nails or embarrass Fort?

One last thing. I said at the start that knowing where this is going to end is one of the three definite things in every scenario. Well, there's one more thing.

You also know that there will be consequences, no matter which outcome occurs.

If the agents foil the bombing and expose Nails, then the consequence is the Satanic Cult lashes out, Nails may be removed and replaced, and Fort's star rises. All of which gives rise to future plot. 

If the agents foil or partly foil the bombing and do not expose Nails, then Nails stays but is angry, Fort may also be embarrassed and angry, and the agents will catch hell. All of which gives rise to future plot. 

If the agents do not foil the bombing and do not expose Nails, then there's a bunch of people out there - including them, perhaps - desperate for the cure that the Satanic Cult offers. Meanwhile Fort is off to Edom's equivalent of Slough House and Nails is reaping the rewards of service to Dracula.  All of which gives rise to (sing along with me now, folks) future plot.

No matter which is the case, those consequences create more spines. Which creates complication and conflict. Which drives plot. 

Goodness. Did I just mention Slough House? That's because this is exactly what Mick Herron does. There is an A plot, the supposed main plot, the bit that the blurb on the back of the book talks about. Then there is the B plot, the actual plot, the one you really ought to be paying attention to. The great advantage for Herron is that, as he has so many characters, he can split them along the different plotlines. That is exactly what I'm suggesting you do.

Enjoy!

Bertie's Dross & Cast-Offs (Night's Black Agents)

 

Sourced from The Guardian

The heirs of Silvio Berlusconi inherited billions from his empire but now they are faced with a dilemma: what to do with his vast collection of mostly worthless artwork, including paintings of nude women and the Madonna, stored in a warehouse opposite his home near Milan.

The former prime minister, who died in June at the age of 86, reportedly amassed the 25,000 works during the final years of his life, buying the majority from late-night shopping channels in his quest to become a top collector.

Vittorio Sgarbi, an undersecretary at the culture ministry, art critic and close friend of Berlusconi, said the compulsion for buying art sold through TV auctions began in earnest in 2018 as a result of “sleepless nights”.

He told Report, the investigative series broadcast on Rai, that Berlusconi spent an estimated €20m on what Sgarbi described as a collection of “crusts”, and the focus appeared to be on quantity rather than quality.

Oh dear. 

Well, billionaires have their little quirks. Berlusconi's heirs will probably burn or otherwise get rid of the vast majority - they'll go to 'the most appropriate destination' according to the latest from the heirs - as it costs close to a million Euro to fund the warehouse where his collection's stored. Given than the average piece probably isn't worth $2, with frame, that cost must be eating away at their souls as well as their wallets. 

After all, a billion - one measly billion - would only fund about a hundred year's worth of storage. 

However, let's step back from the schadenfreude and gamify this. 

Let's say that there's a deceased billionaire. Accidents happen. Let's further say that they have an extensive collection of 'art' hidden away in ... oh, their mansion on the Côte d'Azur and a warehouse near Nice, why not. The news caught the silly season and there are some amusing TikToks and YouTube diatribes, but there the matter rests. 

Or does it?

The agents' Network hints at other developments. Someone connected with the Conspiracy is taking an interest. Who is this mysterious art speculator and why are they interested in Bertie's soon-to-be bonfire material? 

A point's worth of investigative pools finds out the identity of the buyer, but perhaps the real question is, who's put them up to it?

The Buyer

Options: 

• The Art Forecaster (p103 DD), and rumor has it that they're after a particular piece but don't want to say which of the many, many bits of tat they're after.
• The Online Mystic (p126), who claims that forces beyond the veil have directed them to make the buy.
• Van Sloan (p87) and not even his closest friends know why, but his catspaws are already on their way to the Riviera. 

But why do this?

The Art Forecaster wants to cover up two unfortunate facts. One is that the Forecaster was the billionaire's art expert who curated the collection; it's time to burn the receipts. The other is that some of the collection was actually an esoteric effort at mind control; it's not the bad art but the sigils on the canvases, obscured by the art, which are the key. Sure, if they're burned that solves a problem, but only if all the affected canvases are destroyed and the Forecaster wants to make sure of that. The billionaire was supposed to live for at least another decade to further the Conspiracy's goals, but cocaine and sex parties wore him out before his time.

The Online Mystic really has been directed by forces beyond the veil, but those forces are actually trying to lure the agents into a trap. The warehouse near Nice is the real target; the intent is to draw the agents into a killing zone and burn the place down, with them in it. If the agents dig a little deeper into the Mystic's social media posts they may discover clues that suggest the Mystic's talking to the Human Trafficker (p119) with the goal of hiring fascist thugs to carry out the ambush.

Van Sloan wants closure. The billionaire isn't just any old billionaire; he's the son of one of Van Sloan's wartime contacts in Italy. Van Sloan is the boy's godfather. Van Sloan left an artefact in his safekeeping: the Portrait of Dracula. It's this portrait (whether major artefact, minor, or fake) that started the billionaire on his art buying spree; he wanted to get the Portrait out of his head and tried to do that by drowning it in bad art. Van Sloan feels guilty. He feels he poisoned the boy's life. He wants the portrait back or proof of its destruction.

That's it for this week! Enjoy. 

Flipping The Personal Mystic (Night's Black Agents)

Servants seem out of touch. Enter the billionaire’s battalion of experts (Washington Post Christopher Cameron)

“There are areas I want to work on,” says Gill, who would prefer not to name the monk she met while at Tibet House US in New York, a cultural center established at the behest of the Dalai Lama. “There’s professional growth, being a better CEO and a better founder. So he helps me by organizing meditations, where we just sit in noble silence, or we may talk about things.”

To deal with stress and practice mindfulness, she joined a holotropic breathwork community with Angell Deer, a shamanic healer, mystic, medicine man, teacher, permaculturist, beekeeper and international speaker, according to his website.

In July, she traveled to Esalen, the storied Big Sur retreat known for its connections to the Human Potential Movement of the 1960s.

“I’m there exploring breath work and these new modalities, but it’s all very steeped in Silicon Valley tech culture. There’s a guy from Google there,” she says. Ben Tauber, a former Google product manager, was CEO at Esalen until 2019 ...

... Personal chemists now help CEOs hack their psyches with psilocybin chocolates, ayahuasca retreats, microdoses of LSD and IV drips of ketamine (Elon Musk is one alleged user). Teams of private doctors, dietitians, scientists, wellness practitioners and trainers help aging executives search for the Fountain of Youth — with occasionally gruesome techniques (like tech mogul Bryan Johnson’s “blood boy”). Shamans guide board room bosses through difficult decisions. Mixed martial artist Khai “The Shadow” Wu trains Mark Zuckerberg. “Pro-natalists” tap matchmakers to secure high IQ partners to produce elite super children for a world they agree is doomed to societal and environmental collapse ...

...  “I placed a full-time, permanent gaming expert,” says a person working for an UHNW family, who could not be identified due to a nondisclosure agreement. “My client wanted someone who was the best at all of the best games.”

Gosh, isn't it just appalling to have lots of money. 

Jeeves & Wooster, P.G. Wodehouse (Fry & Laurie)

We all knew the rich have peculiar tastes and the idea of a personal beekeeper is neither here nor there, especially if they happen to be a shaman on the side. A personal gamer, though? Someone whose sole job is to make psychedelic chocolates? That's a new one on me. No doubt I'm appallingly naive. 

However, it does suggest intriguing possibilities, particularly for Night's Black Agents.

The obvious is that handy-dandy narrative placeholder, the Strange Psychiatric Facility. The place way off in the never-know-where, or it might be Big Sur, that specializes in recovering your peace of mind, for a fee. The owner (or are they a cover for the real owner?) has all sorts of mystic credentials. Anywhere else, if you happened upon an impressive shrine dedicated to hideous beings from beyond the veil, you'd suspect foul doings; but here, that shrine's just part of the treatment. Meditate upon the swirling colors in that portal to another dimension. All will be well. All will be well.

The agent's task in this situation is to infiltrate the Psychiatric Facility to get closer to the billionaire and do whatever it is they've gone there to do. Warn them, remove their handler, extract the McGuffin before the Conspiracy before they get their greasy hands on it, whatever works for the narrative.

I want to go in a different direction.

Let's say that the Billionaire (civilian stats, bodyguards, martial arts trainers, the lot) is someone of importance to the Conspiracy but they're not yet part of the family. Maybe the billionaire has valuable documents they want to steal, or has connections within a particular industry, or valuable proprietary technology, or just lots of money. For all these reasons the Conspiracy might want to infiltrate the billionaire's luxury compound and gain control of the billionaire and their McGuffin. They might promise the billionaire something they really want, like a super-baby, extended life, or just pleasant dreams. 

For purposes of infiltration the mansion is Monitoring 5 Security 5. There's cameras everywhere, a small army of staff, any number of ways a snooper might get caught on the way in. 

The agent's job is to get in, identify the Conspiracy asset, neutralize that asset without killing them as a murder investigation will only complicate matters, and then get out.

The trouble is, which of the many, many possible subjects is the asset? Is it the chocolate maker with their peculiar candies? The Feng Shui expert (a possible Chinese spy, perhaps)? Their personal religious studies tutor, a high-ranking member of the Catholic church? Someone else?

For purposes of gameplay whoever it is has no supernatural background but does have sufficient Aberrance to power their magical/satanic/psychic abilities. Assume Aberrance 6 and the ability of the Director's choice, chosen from the Vampire list. Also assume that the enemy operative can regain Aberrance in some way, eg. by causing Stability loss which refreshes Aberrance on a 1 to 1 basis, blood sacrifice, use of magical/psychic artefacts or some other means.

But who is it?

Is it the Mysterious Monseigneur (p144 DD), providing spiritual guidance (and connections with the Vatican)?

The Medievalist (p122), who's advising the billionaire on his many, many trips to auction houses to refurnish that baronial castle he just bought?

The Retired MI6 Boffin, now a freelance cybersecurity expert for hire? Or possibly an adviser on that elaborate bitcoin mine the Billionaire's setting up in, oh, Alaska, why not?

Or one of the many, many, many flimflam artists, conmen and grifters who've sneaked into the billionaire's inner circle, to plan a party perhaps, or give them advice on the inner workings of the Bildeberg Group?  

Choices, choices ...

For an added bonus, what about flipping the Mystic?

In this version the job isn't to eliminate the Conspiracy asset. The job is to get in there and turn the asset to good use. Persuade them that the Conspiracy doesn't have their best interest at heart, that Dracula killed their Solace, or that the reward they were promised will never materialize. That way the asset will do the agents' bidding rather than Dracula's. Probably not for very long (Dracula will eventually eliminate them), but hopefully long enough. 

Where is this happening?

Well, the billionaire's mansion (one of several) is the obvious choice, as is their superyacht. But it could as easily be somewhere like Monaco or Macau, the Orient Express (or a facsimile thereof), their favorite ski resort, or some debauched party paradise. Anything's possible. Anything goes. 

Anything.

Enjoy!

Another Mask Behind You

I've seen it in his eyes. Screaming mad. Starkers! And dishonest! Hiding his face behind a fright mask. Well, no masks for me! I have nothing to hide! Joker, Batman: Arkham Asylum (Rocksteady)

Opening scene, Halloween, John Carpenter

“Who dares,”—he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him—“who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him—that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the battlements!” Edgar Allen Poe, The Masque of the Red Death.

Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.

Stranger: Indeed?

Cassilda: Indeed, it's time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.

Stranger: I wear no mask.

Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) No mask? No mask! Robert W. Chambers, The Mask

Masks are odd things. 

You don't often see them outside of carnival, traditional dance and ancient theatre. The Greeks and Romans were fond of masked actors taking on archetypes - the drunk, the old man, the soldier, the wife, the cuckold, the prostitute or wanton. Sock and Buskin, aka Comedy and Tragedy, come from this tradition, as does Commedia dell'arte

In mythology you often hear about masks allowing the wearer to take on archetypes, whether heroic or tragic, but the difficulty with mythology is that it's impossible to check your data. All the people who actually knew what it was supposed to mean are long since dead. Dead, dead, deadski. Almost no written records survive, which means you can make things up as you go and there's nobody to tell you different. 

Then, of course, there is Halloween. Where masks are the only thing separating us from the normal people. Originally a time to honor the dead, it has become a Saturnalia of booze and chocolate, fun as much for the adults as the kids. The original Myers Halloween mask, the iconic one in the film, is actually a William Shatner mask suitably modified - $1.98 at a costume shop, they were on a budget - but now it's so iconic that, if you mention Halloween to people, odds are one of the first images that springs to mind is that blank, hideous non-face worn by the most evil kid who ever lived. 

You don't often find them in ghost stories, funnily enough. Sometimes they float to the surface along with the other mental flotsam and jetsam lurking in the deeper waters of the psyche, but usually they don't appear except in the old-time tales of the likes of Poe. 

Onibaba Trailer (1964)

In film, masks work best when establishing mood, or defining a character. Everyone remembers Jason; everyone remembers Scream. Even if they didn't watch any of the films, they know just by looking at them exactly what kind of character they are. As cinematic shorthand, they work wonders. Even a mediocre film - and God knows there are plenty of those in both franchises - becomes just a little bit memorable when those masks appear on screen.

Why wear a mask?

• Performance
• Ritual
• Protection

You want it to enhance your performance (which can include performance in combat), provide magical assistance or evocation in a ritual, or to protect you against some form of attack whether natural or supernatural.

In the superhero genre - and possibly only in that genre - masks are used to protect identity. Which is ludicrous, but there we are. I've lost track of the number of people who know who Batman is (there must be a list somewhere), but it never makes any difference to the ongoing plot. It sometimes feels as if the 'protect identity' bit is an excuse for ever more elaborate costume concepts, each more evocative than the last. 

In our world 'protect identity' becomes 'play a part.' At Halloween the part is pretty simple - sexy nurse or sexy pirate? - but there are more elaborate versions. Carnival, a masquerade, a pantomime - all these involve ritualistic behavior of one kind or another, played by actors whose job it is to impersonate the characters that everyone knows and loves. Harlequin plays an important role in early pantomime, St George and the Dragon are traditional characters in a Mummer's Play. The modern version is the Pantomime Dame, the comic mother figure, and a host of others - but the Dame is the most recognizable. 

The old May Day traditions follow in this train. You abandon your identity to play another and your role is preordained - the fool with his bladder, for instance. 

Wicker Man

The chief benefit - or problem - in all three cases is that masks are impersonal, therefore unsettling even at the best of times. A gas mask protects against inhaling poisonous or dangerous gases, but there's no denying that the odd inhumanity of them frightens those who see them. The Samurai mask in Onibaba was meant to be unsettling. Jason's blank fright mask empowers Jason and terrifies his victims. All of which is to say that they work just as well on your friends as your enemies; it's terrifying either way.

Yet often - as with Onibaba - the true horror comes when the mask comes off. When Michael Myers removes his mask he stops being the Killer; he's just a little boy. When the Scream mask comes off, the killer, a friend, is revealed.

All that said, how best to use them in, say, Night's Black Agents?

OK, you could adapt one of the ideas like Pantomime or Carnival and stick them in a scene. The major event in the scenario takes place at Whitby during May Day, that kind of thing. It could also work well in a dream sequence - your nightmares are masked and you're being chased through, oh, your old high school, why not. 

But. 

What if the vampires are the masks?

Works best in a Supernatural or Damned setting, but picture this: ancient vampire spirits bonded with the masks they used to wear in Saturnalia or the Bacchanal - too many crimes made the man less than a man, the mask more than a mask. Now the only way the masks can survive is to bond to another human, effectively superimposing its vampire spirit onto the host. Every time the host dies, a small part of it becomes part of the vampire mask. The first few times this happened it was accidental, but they've spent their centuries perfecting the technique so that now, for instance, the traditional mask makers of Venice are one of their many Nodes, manufacturing new vampire masks to join the cult. 

The masks can extend the lifespan of the host and give them powers beyond comprehension, but only while wearing the mask. Even an extended lifespan eventually ends, but before that happens the host has to make sure the mask is passed on to someone else.

As the host ages, the signs that they're tainted by the mask becomes more obvious. The masks have developed special techniques to disguise these marks but they become less effective the older the host becomes. Which is why that renowned actress, for example, retired early from film and spent the rest of her days in her mansion, refusing all calls for an interview. Or why that industrialist is so reclusive, never leaving their yacht. 

You could, if you choose, go for a classic mythology route. One interpretation of the Medusa myth is an ancient cult used Gorgon masks to frighten the profane. When their shrines were overrun, the masks stolen, mythology interpreted the event as the beheading of Medusa. Suppose Medusa didn't die, and her cult lived on through one mask that survived the event? That the cult rebuilt using that mask as a prototype? Then your characters have the opportunity to literally behead Medusa; if they destroy that one ancient mask, the others lose their power and the cult is broken for good. Dracula Dossier for the ancient Greek history enthusiasts.

Why go this route?

First, it works in any setting. I mentioned Night's Black Agents but you could as easily use this in Trail, Fear Itself, Esoterrorists, D&D - whichever you fancy, really. Details change, the concept remains the same. The mask is the monster; the monster wears the mask.

Second, it becomes a means of setting friend against friend. Your Network Contact, your friendly NPC at the tavern, whoever, whenever, can fall under the spell of the mask. You can never be sure who's on who's side. Think of it like an addiction mixed with Possession; the person wearing the mask can't bear to be without it, but at the same time you never know what will happen if they put the mask on.

Third, it sets up an enemy that is both iconic and undying. Sure, you can burn the mask, drop it in acid, whatever you fancy - but there will be another mask. Someone's making them. Who? To what end? If the enemy wears a Michael Myers mask does that mean they become Myers? Share his abilities, obsessions?

Finally, it might just set up a moment like this:

Twilight Zone 'You're caricatures! All of you!'

Which, as the ending of a one-shot, is priceless.

Enjoy!

 

Nodes, Glorious Nodes, Even More Glorious (Night's Black Agents)

The last time I touched on this topic I said:

a Node should be treated no differently from a Villain, for the purposes of campaign design. A Node should have power to affect the plot. A Node has things it wants, things it's in charge of, things it's prepared to kill for. A Node has personality, and it's up to the Director what that personality ought to be.

When discussing Facilities I went on to say:

They:

• Manufacture,
• Collect,
• Distribute, or
• Analyze.

A manufacturing facility makes something, a collection facility stores it, a distribution hub delivers it, and an analyzing facility investigates.

What do all these facilities have in common? They need:

•  Security, and,
•  Monitoring.

Someone has to keep the facility maintained and safe from prying eyes. This may mean a simple padlock on an important door, or a full-fledged electronic surveillance system. Also, someone has to monitor what's going on, whether the facility is doing as it should.

How do these concepts work together? 

In Night's Black Agents a Node is an enemy power center. It can work on the local level, affecting only a small area. It can control a city, a country, a continent.

It can control more than one facility, or only one. As a general rule it's a good idea if all facilities controlled by one Node have the same Security and Monitoring statistics, so you as Director don't have to keep track of too many numbers. It also makes sense from a worldbuilding POV. The Node will want to maintain a standard. 

It may even have the same security firm for each Facility, providing you a chance to drop some handy clues. 'Cerebrus Security? Again? You know what that means ...' Or 'the cybersecurity protocols here are exactly the same as those we encountered at that corporate headquarters, and you remember who was in charge of that ...' As for Monitoring, 'didn't we see that middle manager before? Don't tell me ...'

However, it's reasonable to suppose that one Node might have several different facility types. It might have Manufacture and Distribution facilities working together, or Collect and Analyze. 

Let's go a step further and ask four questions:

1. What is this Node supposed to do?
2. What does it actually do?
3. What are its resources?
4. What are its methods?

I want to talk a little bit about 1 and 2, which seem contradictory. However, if you think about it, just because the bosses up top said 'do this' doesn't mean the Node is only doing this. It has personality, goals and the means to achieve them. If the bosses aren't paying close attention to the Node it might drift from its stated goals.

Think of this as a long-term project. If ever you've worked with a team you know from personal experience that, just because Bob is assigned to X within the overall project structure, does not mean that Bob is actually doing X. Bob might be ambitious and is plotting for his own advancement. Bob might be lazy. Bob might have misunderstood his role in the team, or be quiet quitting, or be doing any number of things that are not X.

Or Bob might actually be doing X but you, as project lead or fellow team member, misunderstood the true nature of X. Oops. Maybe Bob should have your job.

OK, so how does all this work in practice?

Let's take an example from Dracula Dossier: Billington & Sons, Solicitors, Whitby.

A small law firm, mostly handling wills and other property deals for local clients. The firm’s musty offices occupies the bottom two floors of a house on Flowergate Street in the heart of Whitby; their archives, dating back to old Samuel F.’s era in the 1890s, are crammed into the attic on the top floor. Dracula employed them as his local agents to receive and convey his fifty boxes of earth to Carfax.

I'm assuming for the sake of this example that Billington is a Level One node, with assets local to Whitby. It doesn't matter what kind of Conspiracy this is. 

Its function is to Collect. Dracula picks up all kinds of odd things, documents, grimoires, title deeds - you name it, Dracula keeps it. However, often what happens is, Dracula picks up, say, an occult tome and has no need of it right away, so he shoves it at Billington for safe keeping until such time as he remembers to take it back. 

The Collection process is handled by outside forces, couriers (a different, Distribution Node), who deliver the items to Billington. The job of the firm is to make sure they're securely held.

However, old Tom Billington, the traditionalist head of the firm, is the only one who believes in the mission. His sons John and Michael are taking it on themselves to Analyze what they have. The sons have noticed that nobody ever comes to get any of the many, many documents in their keeping. Nobody would ever know if they studied some. Not take - they're too cautious. But if they follow the rituals or chase up on some of the clues, they could get themselves some real power. 

If Tom found out, he'd be devastated. The kids have managed to keep him out of the loop - so far.

I'm assigning Low Security and Medium Monitoring, which applies to all Facilities held by this Node. So, what Facilities does it have?

Billington & Sons, of course, which is where the critical documents are kept. What else?

• A lock-up garage (for immediate storage or low-priority items).
• A couple of bribed cops whose job is to provide extra security.
• A ritual chamber under the Star Inn. It used to be a smuggler's haven; now it hosts darker rituals.
• A safe in the storage area of the Whitby Museum, and a curator who's been persuaded to keep an eye on it. (this is for the valuable stuff).
• A special grave in the Church of Saint Mary, for visiting dignitaries.
• Robin Hood's Bay Books & Curiosities. This one's for John and Michael. This is where they conduct their studies. They don't want to be caught by dear old dad looking at the company books. The owner, Sam Carmichael, has a private arrangement with the Billingtons; they pay a high rent and get the back room, undisturbed. The Billingtons don't realize Sam is also studying the papers they bring here.

That should be enough. You could make it more complicated, of course. This is a level one, and I chose it specifically because level ones aren't usually that complex. A National level Node will probably have dozens of Facilities. 

Point being that a Node, like a Villain, has power to affect the plot, personality, goals. Its Facilities will reflect those aspects of the Node. This is a low-level Collection Node; it's not going to have elaborate safes or many assets. It's going to have a few Network Contacts (eg. the local council members, members of Tom's Masonic Lodge, criminals that owe Tom a favor) but none of them are going to be Special Forces or talented necromancers. 

Of course, if you as Director discover that the agents are making a bee-line for the Museum, no problem. You already know that it's Low (difficulty 3) security and Medum (difficulty 4) monitoring. The agents should be able to break in without too much effort but will have to keep an eye out for that meddling curator. The meddling curator in turn can call up those cops on the Billington payroll if things get complicated. Or as a conspiramid reaction Tom Billington can call in a Network favor from some of his low-level criminal clients. 

As for Resources and Methods, Billington probably doesn't have too many Resources and its Methods aren't going to be gung-ho, release the hounds sort of thing. They can't afford hit men. They can afford to have someone Intimidated or rough someone up.

This is the sort of place Dracula would never visit, except out of a sense of nostalgia. However, the auditors - or what passes for Conspiracy auditors - may drop in at any time to look at the Node's policies and practices. Which could cause all kinds of complications ...

Why go through all this trouble?

Because you want to scatter clues. Any Node has to be a clue-rich environment, to give the agents a direction to follow. Remember, all clues lead to Rome and you want them to get to Rome at some point. The vampire temporarily staying in that grave at Saint Mary, the documents in Books & Curiosities, the contents of the safe at the Whitby Museum, they all contain clues and those clues lead further into the narrative. That way if the agents miss out on the actual clue that you intended they find at (wherever it may be) there's no reason to panic; they can find it again at (wherever they actually go).

That's it for this week. Enjoy!

The Collector (Trail)

Sourced from Wikipedia

This piece is loosely based on a project I'm working on.

A bit of background about toys circa 1900.

The best toymakers by far could be found in Nuremburg. The firms Marklin and Gerbruder Bing were renowned, and every boy wanted one of their magnificent liners. Other countries attempted to capture a portion of the market – Ives of Connecticut, Radiguet the French manufacturer, to name two – but the Germans reigned supreme. Of course, such workmanship cost money. Marklin’s 98 cm ocean liner for example, produced in 1900, with a choice of clockwork motor (twenty minutes propulsion), steam engine (one hour) or electric (six hour) with all the accessories, cost 200 gold francs.

Motivating power could be had in many ways. Bing favoured clockwork engines, but electric motors and steam engines were also available. The clockwork toys were wound with keys, which sometimes doubled as ‘clouds’, so the key appeared to be steam coming from the ship’s funnel.  The steam engines were delicate; if they overheated the engine could blow, perhaps damaging the model. Many models came with interchangeable parts; separate engines and accessories could be bought, as desired. In those models the superstructure could be lifted right off, to allow clear access to the working parts.

Founder of the company Theodor Friedrich Wilhelm Märklin released Märklin's first wind-up train with carriages that ran on standardised track in 1891, noting that railway toys had the potential to follow the common practice of doll's houses, in which the initial purchase would be enhanced and expanded with more accessories for years after the initial purchase. To this end, Märklin offered additional rolling stock and track with which to expand its boxed sets. 

With all that in mind:

The Collector

The investigators are asked to inventory the library of bibliophile and Golden Dawn affiliate Edward St. John Dandridge, Sinjun to his friends. The library contains many lesser (but valuable) occult tomes, and it's their expertise as occultists that got them the job.

The investigators may think they're working for relatives of Sinjun Dandridge, but his only surviving relative, a widowed sister who lives in Brighton, has no money and won't see any until the estate is settled, which is complicated as Sinjun had no will. Probate will take months, possibly more than a year. In fact (1 point Interpersonal spend) the investigators were hired by members of the Golden Dawn acting through the widow and providing her the cash. They think that Sinjun was hiding valuable stuff in his library and want first dibs.

Sinjun's house, not far from fashionable Chelsea Park, is remarkable for two things. First, the library, which doubled as Sinjun's ritual chamber. It is very well stocked but missing a few key texts. Sinjun's notebooks, where he kept records of all his purchases, show he bought [insert mythos text here] about six months before he died. His notes of his magical experiments also show he used that same book intensively right up to the day of his death. 

The other is Sinjun's collection of clockwork toys, particularly trains and ships. Almost every room in the house is occupied by cleverly designed model landscapes through which his trains and ships travel. One room is devoted to ships in particular and Sinjun built what amounts to an indoor pool in one of the extra bedrooms, complete with a little port and an island in the middle. Most of them are quality German make and the investigators can (0 point) tell that it must have cost him several fortunes to buy all this stuff, not counting the items Sinjun must have made himself. A further 1 point (Appraise or similar) sees that even some of the model ships and trains are self-built. 

Checking into Sinjun's death shows that (0 point) he died of a heart attack which (1 point) is very unusual in a man of his age and health. However, his heart was overtaxed by some kind of repetitive strain. Occult (1 point) or Mythos (0 point) shows that his magical experiments might have caused the strain. 

Options:

• The Secret Room. What Sinjun was trying to do was establish a little Utopia, a magical secret room. The island holds the key; the model house on the middle of the island is where Sinjun spent a lot of his time, miniaturized. He could play with his toys as if they were real-sized. That's where the missing books are. However, his magical alterations proved too much for his heart. If the investigators minaturize themselves following Sinjun's experiments they may discover what was chasing him, down there amongst the clockwork toys.
• The Model Catastrophe. Sinjun was following in the footsteps of Koschei the Deathless and wanted to hide his soul away in a model train. It exploded, and his heart exploded at the same time. Why? Because one of his magical rivals planned it that way. This same rival is bankrolling the investigators because the most valuable books aren't in the collection, and he wants to know where they are. He doesn't realize that Sinjun hid them away in a special bookshelf in his library, built into one of the overstuffed leather chairs.
• The Self-Built Assassin. Sinjun used some of his creations as killer toys. He'd build, say, a car or a train and use that model, together with other magical ingredients, to kill off his enemies. The model car served as a totem; the victim would die in a car crash. However, what Sinjun didn't realize was that each time he did that the essence of the dead person would become part of the model car. Do that enough times, and you have a collection of ghostly killers with one thought in mind: kill their creator. Except, with Sinjun dead, the killer toys are trapped in his house. Waiting for someone to play with them ...

That's it for this week. Enjoy!

Not Quite Review Corner: Never Going Home (Wet Ink)

The setting is the real Earth and the characters are all humans. A terrible new element has been added to the war, but the true horrors of the real war are part of the story as well. The game is set in the years between when the Veil was torn in 1916 and when the war really ended in 1918. The focus is on the front-line soldiers who are fighting and experiencing the worst of the magic and monsters. There is some mention made of, but little exploration of, the “home fronts” of any of the belligerents and civilians only appear in passing …

Wet Ink Games

First published via Kickstarter this has since become a multi-volume horror RPG setting. I never knew about the KS; I picked up some (but not all) of the books via DTRPG.

This is a folk horror setting that presumes the belligerents all discover – whether by accident or design – occult powers which they instantly weaponize, shortly after (during?) the battle of the Somme. Their continuing abuse of those powers causes catastrophe, as those occult powers start taking over the armies of the world. Your allies become your enemies. Your officers are now leading the forces of the abyss. There’s still a war on; you’re just not sure who you’re fighting for.

The only thing you know for certain is you’re never going home …

The idea intrigued the hell out of me when I saw it on a friend’s bookshelf but I wasn’t that keen on picking up physical when .pdf would do nicely, please and thank you. Having read, I’m still intrigued, but a little more puzzled than intrigued.

It’s a strong idea. It just doesn’t seem to go anywhere.

The main book lays out the basic premise and then gives you three scenarios, presumably meant to be an introduction to the setting: the Belly of the Beast, the Lamps, and Sword Quest.

Sword Quest?

Sword Quest.

The whole thing’s only about a hundred pages so it can’t cover everything, which is a pity because the war alone could eat up several thousand pages. About 28 pages go on background material – no man’s land, allies, central powers, world at war – and another 30-ish pages go on rules stuff. The rest is adversaries and scenarios. The other books go into more detail (I particularly like Tears in the Sea, which focuses on U-Boat adventures) but in the main book much of the war is sketched in. There isn’t much attention paid to the air war, for instance. Tanks are essentially a McGuffin in one scenario but don’t otherwise affect the narrative. There’s almost no mention of any location other than France; this is all about the Western Front. (the Japanese appear to be missing in action). There are other sourcebooks; I’m focusing on the main book.

Want to shoot something? Roll 1D6 per dot of training in Ranged; two dots, say, equal 2 dice. If you roll 5 or 6 on a die, that’s a success. If your number of successes meets or exceeds the Target Number (the system’s way of designating Difficulty) yay! If not, boo. 

You can adjust your result by manipulating the roll, using a relevant attribute (Guts, Smarts, Brawn). Add extra dice, push a failure to a success, reroll dice. Pray you have sufficient attribute to make a difference when the chips are down.

What will you be shooting at?

Oh, dear. Whatever it is, it can probably tear your face off with consummate ease.

This is where the game really starts to shine: superlative antagonist design. Hideous, nightmarish Silent Hill types which stagger out of the Veil to do harm. Everything from mischievous little trench Gremlins to the shambling Skin Thieves and Cackling Horrors, these long-leggedy beasties will have your players wishing they were anywhere but here.

All of which seems very Purist, to borrow a Trail of Cthulhu term. This isn’t one of those games where your characters turn up, mow down fools with their machine guns, then retire for tea and biscuits. This is a game where even if you win, you probably die. Or become part of the cults and groups of madmen who want to take over the battlefield and, by extension, the world.   

Then there’s the scenarios, and I can feel the wheels beginning to fall off the wagon.

Belly of the Beast is interesting. It introduces the main dilemma of the ongoing narrative – the occult is creeping in, and our superiors are embracing it – and reinforces it when the characters’ officer orders them to do something unspeakable. So far, so in keeping with the central idea.

Then there’s the Lamps, where cultists gather victims to power a ritual to summon a giant bat.

Hm. Giant Bat, eh? It’s certainly .. monstrous … but I can’t help but wonder if we’ve lost focus. The other scenario was tied directly to the war. This one could be taking place anywhere in any system or setting; I can picture it in any standard D&D scenario book, and you wouldn’t need to change much, if anything. Put it in Baldur’s Gate and the only variable would be which character decides to seduce the bat.

Then we have Sword Quest, where Merlyn entices a PC to pull a magic sword from a something-or-other to become the King of all Blah-blah. Which is where the wagon loses its last remaining wheel. 

It looked Purist. Then Ash Williams showed up and Purist went out the window.

Deathwatch

The Bunker

Up to this point I’ve been picturing this as a kind of creepy Deathwatch, Bunker, R-Point, Dog Soldiers kind of setting. Horror with a strong dose of noir. The setting is by definition larger than the characters; if they fail, it’s usually because they were crushed and beaten by the situation. That’s still the case; the characters are going to be crushed and beaten by the situation.

What is the situation? 

This is the first mechanized war, the first modern total war. The flowering of the propaganda machine. Motorized transport brings millions to the lines. This is a war where cruise liners were repainted and armed for conflict; where the German liner Cap Trafalgar engaged the British liner Carmania in a gun battle near Trindade and Martim Vaz archipelago, and the remains of Cap Trafalgar with all its finery, crystal and sun gardens is at the bottom of the ocean even today as a reminder. A war where giant gasbags floated over London and dropped bombs in the heart of the city. Where Paris woke and went to bed with artillery fire ringing in its ears. Where troops from all over the world were brought to a place they’d never heard of, to die. Where the Newfoundland Regiment was wiped out in 15 minutes at the Somme, almost to a man.

It makes perfect sense that all the belligerents would adopt occult methods to attain their war aims if they were proven even somewhat effective. After all, they used flamethrowers and poison gas, trench guns and mortars. They took the Wright Brothers’ gift to mankind and turned it into an engine of death. What difference do a few demons make to that bubbling cauldron?

Sometimes this works. The Disfigured, Trench Gremlins, Blightworms, Carrier Pigeons, Flaming Aces, Hellfighter Tanks – these work with the setting and design intent.  Others … well, they could be in any horror game. 

I’m just not sure were the giant bat fits in. Or the Arthurian quest for Welsh magic swords. (Arthurian? Really? Why? We’re not even in Brittany.) There’s a strong central concept here bursting with horror, but I wonder if everyone involved in the project got the memo. Where’s the war? The grinding, mechanized, bloody-teeth war? Is it hiding under the bed?

It feels at times as if the war is just an excuse for gribbly beasties to slaver a bit so the characters can shoot at them. Not so much horror. A little D&D-ish. The mission design doesn’t help. The characters are given a mission: go here, do this. They go there and do that. As a result there is another mission: go here, do another thing. And so on and on. There’s not much investigation, not much input from the players at all, really; they go there, do that.

All that aside: I do like the idea, and I like the setting. Some of the antagonist design is the best I’ve seen in a horror product. I would definitely run this as a one-shot. 

There’s just not as much there there as I would like.