November Madness!

OK, I fly off to the Brighton UK World Fantasy thingummygig tomorrow and will be incommunicado for two weeks! If anyone needs to keep in touch for that period best bet is Bluesky, and if you're not already aware you can get me at @karloff0734.bsky.social. I will try to post a couple Skies while there but otherwise will be enjoying the time off and dealing with family stuff.

I'll drop by what used to be Raining Books, my uncle's Brighton bookshop, but only to say farewell. I know a couple of you used to visit the shop and by now you'll be aware he died earlier this year. I'm not sure what state the building's in; I expect it will be passing into new hands by now, if it hasn't already.

Question for the hivemind! If someone like me were to dip their toes into online, what virtual tabletop best suits Cthulhu or modern gaming? Roll20 is the obvious one. It does pretty much everything, and Kickstarter promises all kinds of other virtual TT experiences. Which, in your opinion, is the best of the bunch? Looking at user friendly as much as options available; I want to use my time wisely. 

Now, let's dabble in travel and suppose that your Bookhounds are travelling from London to Brighton in search of whatever they may find. They may have a definite object or they may just be on the knock, trying to source some rarities by knocking on doors to see what can be had.

One route to Brighton, as The Brighton Road (Charles G Harper) helpfully illustrates, takes the Hounds through Horley, where they might find the Six Bells Inn:

The nearest neighbour to the church is the almost equally ancient “Six Bells” inn, which took its title from the ring of bells in the church tower. Since 1839, however, when two bells were added, there have been eight in the belfry.

The stranger, foregathering with the rustics at the “Six Bells,” and missing the old houses that once stood near the church and have been replaced by new, very quickly has his regrets for them cut short by those matter-of-fact villagers, who declare that “ye wooden tark so ef ye had to live in un.” A typical rustic had “comic brown-titus” acquired in one of those damp old cottages, and has “felt funny” ever since. One with difficulty resisted the suggestion that, if he could be as funny as he felt, he should set up for a humorist, and oust some of the dull dogs who pose as jesters.

The Six Bells still exists today. Judging by the image, its exterior has barely changed in a hundred years. If it was called Six Bells in 1839 the suggestion is that it's been on that spot for many years prior. From the Hounds' POV, the Six Bells is at least a hundred years old and probably older. The rumor of a passage underneath the inn that leads to the church is an old tale; there isn't an inn pub in existence that hasn't had that story told about it.

Church Inns aren't uncommon, particularly in the UK. 

This is the third edition of Brighton Road, published 1922, so most of the facts (or purported facts at least) will be relevant to 1930s Hounds. Though the book doesn't say, I'm guessing those houses close to the Church were owned by the Church. If the author misses them in 1922 then presumably they existed in 1892, when the book was first published.

In any case, fiction can do as it pleases.

Brown-Titus

The Hounds are on their way to Brighton for reasons of their own and have stopped in Horley for a bit to have a pint and pie at the Six Bells before pressing on. 

While there, one of the locals presents them with a scrap of a larger manuscript hoping to sell it to them. The man, John Henry Bristow, is an old resident who lives on charity and a small pension. The Hounds don't know if he realizes what he has, or whether there's more out there.

Four things about the manuscript:

1. It dates to the 1830s and tells a story about something that happened in the 1750s.
2. It's not clear what the something is, but it might be a witch trial that took place locally. There's not enough of it here to be certain about it.
3. The paper and printing are genuine enough. There are peculiar brown stains on the paper which might be mold.
4. ROME. Whatever that may mean in your narrative.

Four things about John Henry:

1. He says he's more than four score and ten and judging by appearances he's in his eighties.
2. There's something hypnotic about his eyes.
3. Nobody at the Six Bells likes him much. If anything, they're scared of him.
4. For someone his age, he moves well and has an iron grip handshake.

John Henry says the rest of the manuscript is at his cottage and will take the Hounds to see it, if they are interested. His cottage isn't far from the Six Bells, but he won't take them there till after dark. He'll want a few pints at the pub first.

Option One: Hideous Cravings.  John Henry found this manuscript stuffed under the floorboards of his cottage. It tells the story of a 17th century trial in which the accused claimed to be a werewolf, and to have suffered this curse after meeting a mysterious dark figure at a nearby crossroads. Anyone with Mythos realizes that this is actually an account of someone becoming a ghoul after encountering another ghoul. While John Henry isn't a ghoul, he's becoming very interested in some ghoulish practices after reading the manuscript and is hoping for a taste of Hound flesh.

Option Two: Hideous Hijinks. John Henry isn't local. He's a plant. One of the Hounds' rivals knew they were on their way to Brighton and is hoping to hold them up long enough so the rival can get to Brighton before they do and scoop the prize, whatever that is. John Henry is a minor Magick user with hypnotic abilities, who will use those abilities to keep the Hounds busy for as long as he can manage it. The manuscript doesn't exist and never did. John Henry Bristow is an assumed name; the Hounds might recognize him as Lewis Ackerman, a Book Scout with some acting talent.

Option Three: Hideous Mold. There is no John Henry Bristow. What passes as him is actually a mold colony that grows in one of the last remaining old cottages clustered near the Church. The Colony uses the John Henry illusion to collect new building material - like the Hounds. Think of it like a vampire but made of fungi. It knows better than to attack the locals, who might decide to destroy it; but outsiders are fair game. The mold keeps Horley people in check by clouding their minds with its spores; the Hounds may realize the locals are under what amounts to mass hypnosis, which may be their only warning that John Henry is not what he appears to be.

That's it for this week! Enjoy!

Designing The Dungeon (RPG All)

NB: One week to go before the flight. 

This week's post is inspired by The Game Master's Handbook of Proactive Roleplaying (Jonah & Tristan Fishel) p137: 

Remember that the encounter, not the adventure, is the fundamental unit of play. If you design your whole dungeon expecting characters to follow a certain path or explore it in a certain way, you will always be let down. Consider your dungeon a collection of encounters, not a story in itself. The story will emerge organically, as characters pursue their goals and adapt to overcome the encounters you've designed.

You can tell the Fishels came from a Dungeons and Dragons background, and that's not just because they use the word dungeon. It's because they see encounters as things to be overcome. That follows the basic D&D principle that even live action play follows, to an extent: the things you find in front of you are obstacles, not parts of the narrative, and they are to be beaten, not navigated past, negotiated or otherwise engaged with. When you are in a 10 by 10 room, everything looks like an orc guarding a chest.  

However, the advice is sound. You can't expect players to navigate the space the way it's drawn. One of the reasons why I've never liked drawing maps isn't my lack of artistic ability - though that definitely helps - it's the realization that the map does the players no good. They don't want to tap-tap-tap their way down the corridor checking for traps with their 10ft pole. Or chickens.

Zee Bashew

But if you present the characters with an elaborate map, they explore the map. Or try to. Before they get bored and start to make their own fun. 

In my experience the best maps are the ones like the train in Orient Express: not a dungeon so much as a convenient way of illustrating the surroundings, so the characters can say 'while such-and-such is in the dining car, being distracted by Charlie's scintillating conversation, I shall be in the baggage car, going through their trunk and belongings.' 

Still! A series of encounters. OK. Let's game that out.

Assume this is a Facility. The characters have discovered it and want to investigate it. It doesn't really matter which setting this is, but for the purpose of example I'm going to assume it's Night's Black Agents. Modern day spycraft, in other words, and this is a Manufacturing Facility with Medium Security and Medium Monitoring. That means Difficulty 4 for most tests, and any investigative point spends to find out information start at 1 point for the basics. Medium Monitoring suggests that any enemy response will be relatively quick, something like 5-10 minutes armed response for any blatant oopsie, and Medium Security suggests that there are guards and cameras on-site as this is a reasonably important installation. 

OK, fine. There are locks on the doors and people paying attention to what's going on. It doesn't matter, in this example, what the Facility is manufacturing. Assume it's narrative-important. It makes MacGuffins.

So if this is a series of encounters, not a set of rooms to explore, what are those encounters?

Well, let's take a step back and talk a little bit about the Building. 

This is, after all, a mini-Building. It's the narrative space in which you expect players to meet people, creating plot. We already know it's a Manufacturing Facility. That suggests semi-industrial at least, possibly biological or chemical depending on the nature of the MacGuffin. A Supernatural setting might be different; a funeral home could be a Manufacturing Facility, if you assume they're making zombies or torturing souls. However, let's keep it simple and assume that it's semi-industrial. 

That implies there's not much in the way of residential or commercial nearby. There might be a caff for local trade, somewhere that sells fish and chips, say. There won't be a high street stuffed full of shoppers. The traffic on the roads is more likely to be trucks than Ferraris. Not many tourists, if any at all. The people here have a purpose for being here; they're transporting, lifting, carrying, on their way to A from B, not noodling around looking for entertainment. If there are thieves or neer-do-wells lurking about, they're not muggers or pickpockets. There's slim pickings for that type. Car thieves or burglars might do well here. 

Most important to note, unless the enemy have a good relationship with the local law, there probably aren't any police nearby. After all, what they're doing is illegal, or at best borderline-legal. They don't want straight law enforcement breathing down their necks. Thus, if there are coppers nearby, they're working hand-in-hand with the folks running the Facility. 

OK, that's a decent thumbnail. Encounters?

Well, there are several points to consider. Let's start outside and work our way in. 

Assume the characters are standing outside the Facility looking for a way in. They're looking at a semi-industrial area. If this is London, or most places in Europe that haven't been bombed flat in wartime, then the area is a mix of 1900s red brick, 1960s concrete and 2000s cheap industrial, all glass and metal. The first encounter area is external security. Locked doors and cameras. There might be a bloke on the main door, or if there is a loading dock area then there may be security there, and workers loading/unloading lorries as well. 

There is the Direct and the Indirect approach. 

The Direct approach is obvious, and it's the one a lot of players opt for: smash your way in. Tackle the bloke on the main door, or the ones at the loading dock. That means you need combat stats for them and anyone else in the immediate area. You also need response times for backup, since unless the characters are very quick and clever someone's going to ring the alarm right about now. 

The Indirect approach involves going round the back, looking for covert ways in. Or going over the roof of a nearby building to see if you can sneak in. If you have a hacker on the payroll, they might be using this time to take over the enemy's cameras. If you know there's an underground passage or sewer, now's the time to crawl up from below, that sort of thing. This part might not involve a physical challenge but it will want a technical one. Disguises or covert identities may come into play at this point. Remember, you already know that the base Difficulty for most tests is 4. That should help you decide how difficult any particular encounter is. 

OK, now they're in. The question now becomes, what Encounters do they find inside?

Well, let's stick with the Rule of 4. This is a relatively simple Facility, after all. It's not one you designed specifically for this campaign. It's one you had to come up with on the fly.  That means you have four potential encounters in this Facility, one of which must be Rome. That translates to three ordinary encounter types and one special. The Boss.

Thus:

• Flunkies. Low level civilian types, admin, people doing data entry or monitoring cameras. Unarmed, with no combat rating. If the entry was Indirect and no alarm has been triggered then they go about their jobs assuming all is as it should be. Any who encounter the characters assume they have a right to be there, unless they obviously pose a threat. After all, if they didn't have a right to be there, why would they be there? Possible clue to the nature of the Facility found by interrogating the flunky or looking at whatever it is the flunky is doing.     
• Self-Aware Flunky. Civilian types, but with seniority. They may have combat skills. More importantly, they know the characters aren't supposed to be there and will raise the alarm if given the chance. They definitely possess clues to the nature of the Facility and might have a MacGuffin on them, assuming the MacGuffin is transportable and not unique. There is a chance that one of the self-aware flunkies is actually someone important to the Conspiracy as a whole, eg. a top scientist, necromancer or named NPC of some kind. 
• Security. These may or may not be armed. If armed, they will use lethal force. If unarmed, they use nonlethal (tasers, pepper spray) and attempt to capture.  If armed, well ... If the alarm has not been raised then security does not automatically assume everyone they encounter is a threat. If the alarm has been raised, then security treats everyone they meet as a threat, unless there's reason to behave otherwise. So, eg, if the characters disguise themselves as flunkies, they might not automatically trigger an armed response. 
• Rome. This might be a thing, rather than a person. In Carpenter's Prince of Darkness, for instance, the strange canister at the heart of the church crypt is Rome. I'm not going to go into great detail here since your Rome may be very different, but the point is, this is the heart of the Facility. Whether it's a vampire on the prowl, a portal to another dimension, a smelting pot for souls or something else altogether, is up to you. The broader point is this: whatever Rome is, it is dangerous, and it is the reason why the Facility exists/functions. 

Those are the basic encounters. Do you need more?

Sure, you can have more. Whether you need them or not is up to you. However, for the sake of this example let's assume that there are other factions out there interested in what the enemy is up to. Let's assume the Mysterious Monseigneur and his Vatican friends take an interest in the Facility. They may be watching it from afar. They haven't decided to take action against it, not yet. They want to know more about where the Facility fits into the overall network, so they're just monitoring it for now. 

However, now the players decide to move in, and the MM needs to decide what to do about that. 

The MM isn't necessarily opposed to the characters. The Vatican's involvement might be simply to watch what happens when the characters poke the hornet's nest. Or it might be to swoop in like the cavalry should the characters want a rescue. Or the characters might notice the MM's people hanging around the Facility and decide to strike up a short-term alliance. Any of these options are on the table, which means the Director needs a rough idea what the MM has to play with. Are his people armed special ops types? Researchers? Occultists? Something else? 

Let's further assume that the local authorities are not in the enemy's pocket. That means if the police, firefighters, emergency response or what-have-you show up, their arrival might stop whatever armed response the enemy had in mind. Time for a chase scene, perhaps?

Finally, let's assume some non-aligned media types are lurking nearby. It might be actual media from an honest-to-God news outlet, or it might be random bloggers with drones and cameras. They're here for other reasons, but they might be attracted to the Facility if something eye-catching happens. Like an explosion. Or the beginnings of a chase scene. Again, not a combat encounter, but it is something which complicates the narrative. Sometimes the narrative needs a good complication now and again. 

The great thing about encounters like these is that you don't need them for just this moment. You need yes-and contingencies for all kinds of moments. That means you can re-use, say, the police encounter you designed, or the media encounter, in other scenes. 

So there you have it. A series of encounters, rather than a set of dungeon tiles. A Facility with a little flesh on its bones.

Enjoy!

Forgotten London: Amen Court (Bookhounds)

Amen Court is entered from the junction of Warwick Lane and Paternoster Row ... Of the old houses NOs 1-3, No 1 is interesting as R.H. Barham, then a minor canon, lived here from 1839 - 1845 and wrote The Ingoldsby Legends during his occupation.  ... [the pre-Reformation processions allegedly] began with the Lord's Prayer in Paternoster Row and got in their Amen at Amen Corner. They said their Hail Mary in Ava Maria Lane, then their Credo in Creed Lane, and heard their exhortation in Sermon Lane ...  

London Cameos by A.H. Blake, 1930

I have a copy of Legends, picked up on a whim in Guernsey. Well worth your time. When I posted about them before I said:

The Ingoldsby Legends. Picked up at Curiosities, an antiquarian shop in Guernsey. It’s often worth your while poking your nose in that sort of place, particularly in somewhere not often frequented like Guernsey. You never know what might be hanging around. This is the 1898 Richard Bentley edition, with illustrations, and is a collection of all three books. The originals would have been published in the 1840s as single volumes. Comic ghost stories and verse. I'm not a huge fan of comic verse - it goes on a little long and I find it wearisome - but the stories are entertaining Gothic and might give you inspiration for your own tales.

One other landmark that would have been close by is Newgate Prison. A portion of the old prison wall still exists at Amen Court. It's slightly surprising Blake didn't mention it; the prison was still there well up until his period, finally being demolished in the early 1900s. In its day it was notorious both as a prison and as a place of execution; the Newgate Hornpipe, ie. hanging, is immortalized in song. 

Odd side note. The iron gallows door that led to the place of execution allegedly found its way to Buffalo New York and is now at Canisius University. At least, so says Wikipedia and the internet is never wrong. Not sure how it got across the water, or why; it sounds like the sort of thing that ought to have been put up outside a speakeasy. There was a Newgate Prison in Buffalo, but it was contemporaneous with the existing one in London.

The Legends first appeared in Bentley's Miscalleny, a monthly that boasts Charles Dickens among others as its editor, though Dickens soon fell out with Bentley over editorial control concerns.   

With that we get:

Legendary Correspondence

A book scout, Elliott Parker, claims to have discovered some as-yet unknown correspondence written by Dickens to Bentley and approaches the Hounds hoping for a quick sale. The two pages Parker proffers are clearly part of a larger collection, written to Bentley while Dickens was still associated with Bentley's Miscalleny. Parker claims to be acting on behalf of an unnamed seller, and further investigation (eg. tracking Parker's movements) discovers that this seller lives at Amen Court, though it's not clear who the seller is or where, exactly, on Amen Court they live.

The Hounds can determine that the papers are genuine and, if there are more of them, could be sold for a tidy sum. 

At one point in the small portion the Hounds have in their possession, Dickens talks about a draft of 'a horrible, gothic little tale' he's working on. It seems to be an early version of his tale, The Haunted House, but if so then it's a version that never saw print. Finding that could be a real boost to the shop. 

Spending 1 point of any relevant investigative pool discovers that Parker, when he visits his unnamed seller, always goes to that part of Amen Court closest to the old Newgate Prison.

Option One: Liar. Parker has discovered some Dickens but it's incomplete and has faked up the rest to encourage gullible buyers. He used the good stuff as bait and is relying on the fakes to seal the deal. He's using a false front at Amen Court to sell the story, relying on Rough Magick to get him from his Amen Court false front to his actual hideaway, not far from there, traveling by shadow and subterfuge. However, this repeated use of Magick is making for some very peculiar side effects at Amen Court, and the canons who live there are starting to get worried.

Option Two: The Real Deal. Parker has a genuine seller at Amen Court. The seller discovered these papers during a home refurbishment and thought they would be able to sell these for a small amount. Parker knows their true value and is hoping to fleece the seller. What neither the seller nor Parker appreciate is that the papers are part of a larger stash of lost and found items, hoarded by a supernatural collector. The collector is very unhappy that their stash was found, and is attempting to reclaim the papers.

Option Three: The Newgate Hornpipe. Parker didn't get those papers from Amen Court. He got them from the shadowy remnants of Newgate, gone these many years, which Parker gets to via a magickal door in the wall of Newgate Prison located at Amen Court. Once there he steals the items from the Newgate Hangman, who still exists in that death-touched world beyond. Theoretically the Hounds could copy Parker's technique, get into Newgate and take the papers from their keeper. So long as they're willing to risk a grisly end in the execution cell ...

That's it for this week. Enjoy!

Cyberpunk RED - I Listen

When I first asked for your input back in the Before Times there was a lone voice calling out for Cyberpunk content. I listen to lone voices, occasionally. 

Let's talk RED. 

Akira trailer 

What attracts me to Cyberpunk? Nostalgia, partly. I have a strong sentimental attachment to those 1980 sci-fi classics. Blade Runner. Tron. Escape From New York! Dead Zone. Le Dernier Combat. Last Starfighter. Night of the Comet! God, that one is fun. Terminator. RoboCop. Alien Nation! Akira, obviously. Lots of memories wrapped up in those hours. 

Then there's the hours, days, weeks playing the tabletop back in uni. You never really escape those early experiences. It's probably why Dungeons and Dragons still appeals, in spite of everything. I collected most of the books over the years. It's not difficult to whip up some old favorites with that kind of bait.

But mostly, it's the simplicity of it. Skill plus stat plus D10 randomizer. Sorted. Not like other games where there might be a dozen dice or more, rules for every possible contingency, and extra books with extra rules for all the other contingencies. It's probably the same thing that lures me into Gumshoe, honestly. D6 randomizer plus pool points, and you're off to the races. 

Tell you what I don't like. Save the World narratives. They're attractive, sure. But they keep coming back again, and again. Sometimes I just want the world to stay saved, you know? For ten minutes? I feel like the maid ...

With that in mind, let's talk about some campaign ideas. If you like the look of one, give me a shout. We can talk about expanding it.

To start with: 

Long Live The King 

Partially inspired by this recent article concerning gang crime in Canada. Briefly: the removal of senior leadership within the Quebec mafia results in increased gang crime, as control over the smaller groups disintegrates. 

Rome: the recent (and explosive) removal/retirement of senior crime figures causes a shift in power in the district. All the gangs come out to vie for control over the district’s lucrative enterprises. Everything from protection rackets to numbers running to narcotics is in flux, as younger gangs surge to prominence in a wave of shootouts and rumbles. Nobody knows who’ll come out on top; today’s Little Caesar is tomorrow's statistic. Meanwhile, nobody can get anything done and the cops are no help at all; they’re drowning in wave after wave of violence, unable to respond proactively to any of this. 

Our protagonists: a local security firm which has contracts for three conapts and, until recently, was trying to become a player in the market. They had a business relationship with the former mafia bosses and now must deal with the coming storm. Do they play kingmaker? Do they go bust in spectacular fashion? 

Main activities: diplomacy both corporate and street, fistfights and firefights.  

The Bloody Red Baron 

Royal Guardsmen

I have a soft spot for this tune. Blame a misspent youth.

Rome: The medical market is sewn up tight, but there’s always room for an independent in those districts where the corps fear to go. Rippers and medicos need someone with more guts than sense to get in and out of the combat zone. Sometimes it’s a body run, collecting spare parts. Other times it’s an extraction under fire. Runners need a proxy to get their wounded out of a tight spot, or some corporate finds themselves on the wrong side of the line. Meanwhile the poor and the desperate just want medical aid, and they don’t care much who provides it. 

Our protagonists: owner/operators of the Red Baron, a ramshackle meatwagon which has seen more firefights than anyone cares to think about. Their mission: to bring mobile healthcare to the desperate and those willing to pay. It’s up to the Baron whether they provide Robin Hood medical aid to the poor for free or at cost, or whether they seek to extract every penny from every customer. Whichever it may be, medical supplies and bodybags are best-sellers in today’s market. 

Main activities: thrilling chases and MASH-style medical action. 

Tournament of Champions 

Rome: People need entertainment. People crave nostalgia. Yes, there’s the Net; yes, there’s Elflines Online. But for the hardcore, the truly grok, there’s only one drug that works: collectible card games. Nobody’s been making those cards for decades. Many of them were destroyed, either in the big bang or what came after. But some survived. For the elite, the best of the best, the geek beyond geek, a Black Lotus is worth more than a mint condition Action Comics #1. Up until now, card collectors have battled in private matches, the backrooms of brick-and-mortar stores, but the dream’s always been to recreate the grand tournaments of old. 

Our protagonists: fixers, dealers, schemers, fakers, artists both bullshit and realshit. Sometimes they go out and Indiana Jones their way to a lost CCG collection buried deep in some forgotten pit. Or perhaps they liberate cards from those too gauche to own them. They might fake up whatever they need to make up. Whatever the case may be, they’re now in the enviable (well …) position of being the only ones in Night City with enough nerd clout to be able to organize a city-wide tournament. But how? Where? Who’ll be the judge? In a world without heroes, do these sad sacks have it in them to fake it till they make it? 

Main activities: treasure hunting, heists, wheeling-dealing. 

Big Fat Fraud (?) 

Mr Vampire

With apologies to KPop Demon Hunters, Encounters of the Spooky Kind and the Mr. Vampire series. 

Rome: People need to believe. Religion is the opiate of the masses, so they say. But is it bad to spread a little hope, even if you don’t believe in yourself? Those with faith, and those without, struggle with the day-to-day and their personal demons. They cry out. They act out. The faith bunco has kept fraudsters in bucks since time immemorial. What’s one more lie in a world that’s full of them? Except this time maybe it isn’t a lie; there might be a grain of truth in that teeming mass of misinformation. Not that anyone wants to believe that, mind you; the truth is so overrated … 

What happens if a fraudster finds faith? What happens if there really are demons out there? 

Our protagonists: fakers, exorcists for hire, occultists in over their head. Against them: Maybe nothing but guilty consciences. Or perhaps the heirs of MKUltra, Uncle Sam’s mind control program – or maybe there really is a Legion hiding inside that swine after all … 

Main Activities: seances, exorcisms, kung fu.  

Lights! Camera! Action!

Based in part on this amusing little side note in a longer wiki article: 

Founded in 1966, the NYPD Movie/TV Unit was the first of its kind in the country. Because of its relationship with the NYPD, the unit has the greatest knowledge on how to assist productions, particularly with complex shooting situations, in a city that is dense with vehicular and pedestrian traffic.

Whether it conducts filming on bridges, highways, or busy intersections, the unit controls traffic to ensure that companies can get shots that may otherwise be impossible. It also oversees staged "crime scenes" used in the filming of the city's many police-related shows, such as Law & Order and Third Watch. The unit's responsibilities do not end there; the unit also monitors child work permits, stunts, prop firearms, placement of equipment, pedestrian safety, and parking.

While filming on busy New York City streets presents countless challenges, the unit has, over the years, developed a strong working relationship with the film industry. The unit makes an effort to ensure that New York City remains a popular location for filming. Its based in the Sunset Park neighborhood of Brooklyn.

Until the election of Mayor Rudolph Giuliani in 1994, the unit occasionally assisted with pornographic productions. But Giuliani put a stop to this as part of his effort to clean up the streets of New York City. In 1997, porn producer Michael Lucas filed a lawsuit against the Police Department and Giuliani citing discriminating practices used by the Movie/TV Unit against porn productions. The lawsuit was dismissed in September 1998 when a district judge granted a motion to dismiss on behalf of the NYPD.

Rome: Fame, fortune, glitz and glamour. It's a hero's life in the NCPD. All the world knows it. All the world sees the TV shows, the newsreels, the braindances. Someone's got to make sure all those shoots take place with as little drama as possible - well, unplanned drama, at least. Who is that lucky someone? Why, you! Yes, you will have to pull security duty on a porno from time to time (oh, the humanity) and yes, you will have to put up with every would-be Spielberg who happened to convince daddy to bankroll their student project. But the possibilities! You might be a background extra in Manic Slaughterhouse Four! You might get a fleeting appearance on the news! You might find out about the subliminal ... no, better not find out about that, it could be career-ending.

Protagonists: NCPD, medias, rockers - anyone who might look good in a uniform and at least knows the rudiments of cinematography.

Main Activities: security, photoshoots, chases both fake and real, diplomacy both street and corporate.

That's it for this week. Enjoy!

Death Mask 4 - the First Arc

This will be the last in this series. I may come back to it later; we'll see.

OK, we have Rome, we have the Building, we have a reasonable idea of the OPFOR. The next step is to decide on the opening arc of the campaign, on the assumption this is, at minimum, a 3-act structure.

Let's go over the basics.

A CORE CONCEPT tree bears CORE CONCEPT fruit. So, for example, a DAMNED tree always bears DAMNED fruit. This is a little like Rome, in that every road leads to the same terminus, but it's worth bearing in mind that, if you start with X, you always want to finish at X. Tone is critical. It should remain constant. 

Establish the setting, the characters and the overall mood of the game. Always remember that, while you may have a clear idea of what's happening and why, the players do not. Or, they may have an idea that is wholly at odds with yours. The first act is critical in that it nails down expectations and gives everyone notice as to the kind of game this is.

Put in this way. There are worlds of difference between this film:

The Mummy (1932)

This film:

The Mummy (1999)

And this one:

The Mummy (2017)

But they're all basically the same film. I've only seen two of these, incidentally. Guess which two.

What you, as Keeper, need to do is decide which of these, or some other variant, lives in your Building. Then you need to communicate that to the players. To a certain extent this will happen in session zero, but a lot of this will take place in-game.

The purpose of the first arc is to nail down those expectations so you can explore more complex ideas in the next arc(s). You'll spend a lot of time describing and expanding on starting locations, important NPCs, McGuffins.

The characters don't have to encounter the Mythos, or anything supernatural, in the opening act, so long as the opening act is true to the overall mood. This may seem counter-intuitive but it's actually very important. Your job here is to establish setting and mood. That will be difficult to do if something really flashy and eye-catching gets the players' attention. It's like jangling keys in front of a cat. Useful, if you want the cat to pay attention to the keys. Less useful, if you want anything else to happen.

There's nothing wrong with having things go bump in the night. Bumping is what things do. But if you want the characters to pay attention to the Building and put their own ideas in, that will be difficult if their attention is always being caught by this eye-catching thing over here.

You already know what the Building is, what it consists of. The first arc should include all the important rooms within that Building. If the smuggling route to Cyprus is going to be critical to your game, then there needs to be a mission to Cyprus to establish it as a location. To seed it with important NPCs. Possibly to include a smuggling ship (also an important part of the Building) which will become important in later sessions.

That way, when you return to these parts of the Building for important moments in Act Two, the players already have expectations and will lean on those expectations when they make their own plots.  

Most important of all, the first arc should include the core activities of the setting. If this were Bookhounds, say, then the first arc ought to include at least one important Auction. Buying and selling books is what that setting is all about. You need that moment when player interacts with the core mechanic to achieve plot results, and in Bookhounds that core mechanic is the auction.

What's the core mechanic in Tomb-Hounds?

From the text:

... real opportunities have opened up. Those who know enough Egyptology to know where to dig, and who know enough shady dealers to know how to sell what they dig up, can name their own price for a spectacular item. Of course, there’s always that little matter of a curse – but no true tomb-hound lets the possibility of a curse interfere with the certainty of a profit. Wonderful things await - all you need is a map and a bullwhip.

At its heart, this is a treasure hunt. Core Drives back this up: Adventure, Antiquarianism, Curiosity, Follower, Scholarship, Thirst for Knowledge, In the Blood, Sudden Shock, Greed. These all suggest risk-takers, delvers into the unknown, people who want to find things either for the knowledge they contain, the value that can be put on them, or the fame that comes with being the One Who Found It.

With that in mind, the first arc should start with the players having already found something relatively minor, which hints at something profoundly more interesting.

Let's start at a Dig Site. The players have been working on a site connected with a minor royal or someone connected to royalty - a high priest, say, or an important civil servant like an architect. Through this they have obtained valuables that they need to dispose of, but also through this they have gained clues, or hints, to the much more valuable thing.

Let's further say that the players were minor scholars on this particular dig, that their sponsor or sponsoring agency hoovered up the really good stuff, and what they got away with were the scraps. Again, think of Bookhounds. The Hounds in that setting are motivated by economic drivers. The Tomb-Hounds setting is very similar. The Hounds want that spectacular item which they can bargain away for colossal sums. For that to have spice, it's a good idea to dangle a little bit of that wealth in front of them, then take it away.

Indiana Jones

This has several advantages.

First, it starts with action. The opening scene can be that moment where the archaeologists hover at the door of the tomb, just before they crack it open revealing the treasures hidden inside. They interpret the hieroglyphs: is there a curse? Maybe ... well, nuts to it! Crash, bang, whallop, loot.

Then, it establishes an initial adversary: that scholar or scholarly group which swoops in and takes all the really good stuff for itself. This adversary may or may not have cult links. That's not important right now. What is important is that they have what the players want. They have the shiny valuables. The temporary alliance which existed up till now has been shattered. It's all about the dollars from this point forward, or the academic recognition, or whatever it may be.

Then, it posits the initial question which the characters need to resolve: what is this other dig site that the clues found at this dig site hint at? Is it more important than the dig site they're working on? What's hidden there? 

Can the characters get enough financing behind them to establish their own dig site at that location, to find the really good stuff?

From this point forward it's a combination treasure hunt and race against time. The treasure hunt is finding enough clues to determine the exact location of this new site. Those clues are scattered among other sites, at libraries, in museums, in the memories of occult scholars, and the characters need to gather enough of these clues to find the dig site. The race against time is doing this before someone else does it.

Who this someone else is can be established in play. The likely opposition is the players' former allies, the scholar or scholarly group who worked with them on the first dig. That doesn't have to be so. The new OPFOR can establish their credentials by, say, eliminating that scholar or scholarly group in some spectacular fashion. That puts the new OPFOR on the map and establishes stakes.

Through all this the players are, incidentally, establishing which rooms, in the Building, are important to them. If they find Cyprus boring, say, then fine; the Keeper doesn't need to waste time putting new backstory elements or plot points in there. It would be like lavishing expensive furniture on a room you'll never use. If, on the other hand, they become deeply invested in Cyprus then it's time to flesh out that location for future scenes. 

This is why establishing expectations happens as much in-game as it does off-set, behind the scenes. You can't anticipate what players will find interesting. Don't waste too much time trying. Put a little bait out there and, if they nibble, then you hook them with something nasty. 

All this is leading to that final dig site, and this is where all your tools come out of the box. This is the concluding portion of the first Act. If you're going to use elaborate maps at all, puzzles, traps, this is where you use them. If you let the players find the fancy key somewhere at that first dig site, then this is where they find the door that key fits. If you want them to navigate past improbable traps to get to where they're going, this is where those traps are used.

Indiana Jones Last Crusade

This is also where something supernatural definitely lies sleeping. It might be a mummy, a pack of ghouls, something else, but whatever it is, it's down there. 

Finally, this is where the McGuffin is. The thing that everyone's going to be chasing in Act Two. For purposes of plot, I'm going to assume that the McGuffin is Perseus' adamantine sickle, that peculiar khopesh the cult seeks so they can stop someone from using it on the elder masks. However, your game is your game. If you want that McGuffin to be something else, go for it.

At the end of the first Act the characters will have found that dig site, looted it, come up with a bunch of valuables and the fate of the McGuffin has been determined. It might be with the players. It might be somewhere else. Wherever it is, chasing after that McGuffin will be the focus of the second Act.  

With that, finita! I hope you enjoyed this digression. 

A quick housekeeping note: in a few weeks I shall be off-island and this blog will go silent while I'm in the UK. Not to worry! I'll be back online soon.

Ciao!

 

Death Mask 3 Exploring Rome

Rome: Masks, hidden identities, hidden agendas, Gorgons, the shadowy influence of Egypt's past, the Pharaohs of old returning to take their rightful place.  

Let's dig a little deeper. 

The whole point behind the cult is that it's run by masks, whose main purpose in life is to make more masks, to extend their already lengthy existence. These masks derive their motivating force and their purpose from the old Gorgon cult, which fled to Egypt when the original cult bases in Greece were smashed. Now the cult promotes a return of the old Pharaonic ways, mainly to encourage new Egyptian recruits to join, but at its heart it's the same Gorgon cult it was many centuries ago.

It's probably worth remembering that when Perseus allegedly slew Medusa he did it using flying sandals, a cap of Hades that made him invisible, and an adamantine sickle. Those sound like useful cult-bashing relics to me. Some or all of these might have found their way to Egypt over the years and are now hidden in some tomb or other, or perhaps on the back shelf of one of the many, many curio shops in Cairo or Alexandria. 

What if, for instance, that adamantine sickle is in fact a khopesh?  Ceremonial versions of those were found with Tutankhamun; if King Tut can have them then there's no reason why Perseus' old blade can't have found its way into some priest's tomb. What if those battered sandals are hanging up with the stock in some souk or other? 

The cap of night found its way into several different hands; Hermes had it, Athena had it, there's no telling where else it might have gone after Perseus used it. He may have dropped it in Mycenae, where he was King. If so, then the archaeologist Schliemann might have found it while digging for Trojan loot, in the later 1870s. If that happened then the cap would be in Berlin at the time of the campaign, but then the Great Museums of the world are part of the Building so there's no reason not to have a side trip off to Berlin. Nor, for that matter, is there a compelling reason why a German archaeologist might not sneak the thing away in their bags and baggage for a trip to Egypt. For ... research purposes. Not because they're a cult member seeking promotion. Or because they're a cult opponent trying to smash the new Pharaoh. Possibilities ... 

OK, so we have some Banes and possibly also treasures to be sought for in the first arc of the campaign. Fine. So who's the OPFOR?

Remember, all OPFOR have:

• Power, appropriate to their function within the narrative.
• Goals.
• Assets, to be used to achieve their goals.

What does the cult have?

Power: far-reaching political, social and quasi-military authority and influence within Egypt. Their spies and enforcers are everywhere. They can have people killed. They can deploy assassins, peculiar occult magics, ancient mummies - all within Egypt proper. Outside Egypt, their influence drops off dramatically. They can send agents to do their bidding, but they can't just snap their metaphorical fingers and have a man in, say, Berlin, drop dead that same moment. 

However, this power is basically illicit. They have no actual civil or legal authority. They exist behind the scenes. Everyone fears them, but it's not as if they have an office building, a flag, a government post. 

For the purposes of plot, it can be assumed that their power extends as far as Egypt extends. Which means, among other things, that it extends to all those museums and other places where Egypt mania is all the rage. Where the mysteries of Egypt - and, by extension, the cult - influence art and architecture.

Do the civil authorities in Egypt - at this point in time, the British military occupying forces and the Egyptian civil government - know about the cult? Probably. Inasmuch as the cult is active and does things, the authorities will know about those things. They may not have connected the dots and realized that this peculiar murder, or the rise of that politician, are all connected to a power-hungry pro-Pharaoh movement. They know something's up, but not what. Further, there will be some within the civil authority who have connected dots, who suspect much, and are either opposed to the cult or who seek alliance with it for their own ends.

That rival Power opposes the cult's own, and the cult will constantly be aware of it. This limits the cult's overt activities. It cannot expect to do whatever it wants whenever it wants, not without consequences. It can have a man killed, but if that killing is very troublesome for the civil authorities then the cult had better have someone to take the blame, go to trial and perhaps get executed. Otherwise, the political fallout from the killing may upset the cult's plans. 

Of course, all this is before the new Pharaoh steps forward and takes their rightful place on the throne temporarily occupied by Fuad I. The cult will probably be paying very close attention to the career of Mohammed Ali Tewfik, the heir presumptive, but he spends most of his life outside Egypt. Why? Who can say? But he does have a magnificent Cairo palace full of artefacts and practically swimming in history. It's very private, of course; it won't become a museum until after his death. But I'm sure that can be worked into the first story arc. Perhaps that's where the cap of night is now, or perhaps the person who has it seeks an audience with Mohammed Ali so they can sell it to the heir presumptive. Sounds like a job for some plausible go-betweens ...  

Goals: The cult has a hidden goal and an up-front goal.

The up-front is to restore Pharaonic rule. There will be a new golden age of such and so forth. Egypt will once more become the yadda yadda. This is the goal that all the cult members know about. It's the carrot that brings in new members. It's the lure that keeps radicals, Nationalists, Communists and the Muslim Brother hood on board. Work with us, and we'll help you get what you want. Those groups may not have everything in common with the cult but they have one common enemy: the British occupying forces. So long as the cult keeps playing the public game, and drumming up hatred for the British, the more likely it is the cult will get what it wants from those other groups.

There is another way to play this which could be just as interesting. Have the cult ally itself with the British. All the other groups - Communists, Radicals, Nationalists, Muslims - are against it now, but so long as it can keep them fighting each other they'll lack the resources to come at the cult direct. It does mean that player characters cooperating with the British will never know if the policeman, say, or the Colonel they ally themselves with is, in fact, a cult member. Or even a cult leader. 

That's the up-front. The hidden goal is simply this: survival.

The cult remembers all too well the bad old days after the initial collapse, when it was on the run, fearing for its existence. There were a number of times when it might have vanished altogether. Its final shrines vandalized, the last masks smashed or burnt. It has been surviving in the shadows in Egypt for centuries, eating scraps, gathering strength. The oldest among them remember the bad old days and want no more of that, thank you. They would sacrifice every single Pharaonic cult member, every dollar in its coffers, if that meant the cult would survive another day. It knows how to relocate and start fresh. It's done that before. 

That's the old guard, of course. The ancient among them. The newer masks? They quite like luxuries. They like ruling over men. The shadows are comforting, but also an irritant. Wouldn't it be grand to show off their true power? To take center stage? These are masks, after all; they don't feel they truly exist if they're not performing. These are the cult members who will take risks, who will execute the grand plays and come up with power schemes. They don't care as much about survival. They've been fed scraps for too long. Now they want what's on the center table. 

This is a bit different from the average cult in a Cthulhu-esque game. In the typical setting cult members are just a means. Everyone gets fed into the cosmic woodchipper in the end. In the meantime, they work to bring about the return of [insert squid-faced monstrosity here.] This cult is nothing like that. It exists to exist. If there ever was some deeper meaning in its rituals, that meaning is long forgotten. 

Except, perhaps, by the most ancient among them. 

Can you say gerontocracy? Bet you know what that feels like. The old guard might have believed in something once, when they first started out. Now they just believe in holding on to power, for as long as their cold, dead hands can grip.

Assets: at the street level, hundreds if not thousands of willing servants. Everyone from that knife-grinder in the souk to the policeman, the museum curator, the archaeologist, and more. 

They all have their reasons. Some buy into the return of the Pharaoh shtick. Some just like the idea of sticking it to the British (or, alternatively, to the King, the Muslims, the Communists, or whoever). Some join forces for professional advancement or knowledge. After all, who better to know where the best dig sites are than the cult which has been around since forever and who probably built most of those dig sites in the first place? Some just want loot. Whatever the desire, the cult can provide. 

At the not-quite-street level, the youngest of the masks and the mask-makers. The ones who look like Venetian carnival masks, or just Halloween fun times masks. These are the center of any immediate cult activity. If there's a bunch of cult members centered around the local dig workers, then there will be a mask at the heart of it, probably worn by the reis. If the museum curators are in league with the cult, then one of them will be wearing a Harlequin mask. If the staff at Shepheard's are being blackmailed into doing the cult's bidding, then the blackmailer will be wearing a mask.

These masks give some power to the persons wearing them. Think of these as Renfields, if this were a Night's Black Agents game. So long as the mask is on, the wearer gets that power. However, there is a price to be paid. The wearer either has to make a blood sacrifice to keep going, or to give up some of their own life energy to go on. This can mean the wearer dies with their mask on, in particularly dire circumstances. 

Above the street level are the advanced members. The ones who know what's really going on (or who think they do). The ones who are working to bring about the new Pharaonic dynasty. These are highly placed persons and high-powered masks. The masks themselves are probably quite old, if not ancient. At least a century's worth of experience. They might be original Commedia; they certainly date from that period. They were made in the time when the cult was just beginning to reinvigorate itself, to draw on new membership. They don't remember the bad old days, at least not first-hand, but they've heard the old stories time and time and time again. Their loyalty wavers. Perhaps, they mutter among themselves, the time has come for a new direction. 

The oldest among them, the original Gorgons, are ancient indeed. They remember the old days first-hand. These are the ones obsessed with recovering the artefacts that Perseus (whoever that may have been) used to destroy the cult the first time. They realize how fragile life can be. They exist in the shadows. So long as the cult keeps bringing them people to eat, they're happy. These are the only masks with the ability to annihilate a person just by looking at them - the turn-to-stone ability. If there is a whisper of some peculiar theatrical troupe that performs once every so often, for a select audience, this group of masks is at the heart of that rumor. The ancient Roman or Greek theatre, reborn. Except the audience never gets to go home ... 

This final group is the one with real power. They can kill; they have access to ancient knowledge; they can summon up spirits or command mummies to rise. They have in their possession the ancient texts sought after by so many occultists and Tombhounds. They know where the real dig sites are. All they want is to continue to exist. For that to happen, they need to get the relics of Perseus. For that matter, they also need anything else that might pose a threat to them. If it should turn out that some modern artefact, say, has the same potential as Perseus' adamantine sickle then they will want it in their possession, toot sweet. For that reason, they may be very interested in any surplus Great War weapons or sinister death rays that some mad scientist left lying around. If you want to turn the game towards a kind of superhero (or at least super-science) direction, that's the way to do it.  

So! Rome. This is where it's all heading. This cult with its desire to just keep on existing, who plays with making men into Gods. 

Next time, let's talk the first arc.

Death Mask 2 - Exploring the Building

The Building: Egypt in general, Cairo in particular, various dig sites scattered across the desert, Cyprus, smuggling ships, and the Museums of the World with a focus on the British Museum, the Louvre, and the Museo Egizio of Turin.

Let’s populate the Building.

All kinds of people and events might be in any Building. Some are plot relevant. Some are there to be there, and some are there because they have to be there.

Plot relevant is an obvious descriptor, and I shan’t go into detail about that group. I trust you to work that out for yourself.

What about the ones who are there to be there, and there because they have to be there?

Let’s say this is the opening scene of Casablanca. 

Casablanca sourced from Film Clips

In that scene we’re introduced to many people, almost none of whom are plot relevant. One or two of them have function within the narrative. They do things. They have lines. The majority are there to be seen.

These are the ones who are there to be there.

The street juggler, the hawkers, the foreigners being swept up (the usual suspects) the man with the Free France leaflets; they perform a necessary service, just by being seen. They set the stage for what’s to come. The pickpocket has a recurring role, has lines of dialogue, and draws the eye. He introduces the setting and gives the audience a taste of what’s on offer. The young couple seen briefly will appear later at Rick’s and provide what amounts to a side quest.

They exist within the narrative because someone has to. In any given scene, there will be people in the background. If this scene takes place in a bar, there will be other people in that bar. If in a market, then other people will be buying, other people will be selling. Any setting – any society – cannot exist without someone in there participating in the scene.

However, because player characters expect to be able to tinker with the bits and pieces of any scene, you as Keeper need to be able to pluck any of these otherwise faceless personalities out of the toybox and make them do things.

What makes them different from the ones who are there because they have to be there? 

Plot function.

The ones who are there to be there have no plot function. They might become plot relevant, through accident rather than design, but there’s nothing about them which makes them plot functional. They exist to be seen, not to do something nor to provide something.

However, there’s a class of character who’s there because they have to be there, and for that example in Casablanca’s opening scene, I point you to the French police.

After all, someone had to round up the usual suspects. Someone had to shoot that Free French fifth columnist with the leaflets. Someone had to provide tension within the narrative. If the police didn’t exist someone would have to invent them, because without their presence there’s nothing keeping the narrative together.

In any game setting there will be a class of characters within the Building who exist because without them the Building could not exist. They serve a vital plot function by making sure the whole shebang makes sense. They might be police, or government officials, or religious authorities, local politicians, street cleaners, bartenders, antique dealers – whatever makes best sense within your Building.

This is a specific Building, don’t forget. It involves smuggling, antiquities, occultism. That means the people who are there because they have to be there are probably smugglers, antique dealers, occultists. Some of them may even become plot relevant, but they don’t have to start that way.

They must exist because, without them, the whole conceit of the narrative falls apart.

How much detail need you lavish on these folks?

Well, probably not much, but you do need something more than a lick and a promise. For example:

• Merchant tall, always bends lower to appear shorter than they are, rapid talker, has four sons to assist them in their work, believes God will provide but, in the meantime, he must provide for himself. No combat skills, but the sons are combatative.
• Merchant A born gossip, this one lives for scandal and is always on the lookout for the latest news. They deal exclusively in expensive small things (eg. coins) and carry their wares with them in a leather bag. The merchant is an experienced knife fighter, for all their apparent helplessness.
• Merchant: A skilled tradesman, perhaps a stonecarver or a jeweler, or even a forger, who only deals with people that he knows. He has no time for riffraff or people who wander in off the street. He is very influential with the local authorities and can bring that influence to bear against people he dislikes.
• Merchant: This one sells supplies to expeditions and always has what an expedition needs to get going. He has been on several adventures himself as a young man and is more than willing to talk about his exciting past. Have you time for a coffee? Good! Now, this happened long ago ...

That’s the people, but why are they there? Partly for background, sure, but the players are going to want to interact with some of them and when that happens the players will want something in return. Clues, possibly. Stuff. Adventure hooks. 

These shouldn’t be specific to the NPC, whether they’re there to be there or there because they have to be. If you attach a specific clue to a specific character the only thing you achieve is an increased chance that the players will lose track of the plot, because they didn’t speak to X about The Thing. 

These are non-plot related, at least conceptually. None of them attach directly to any given scenario or plot seed. But there’s no reason why any of them shouldn’t attach to a scenario or plot seed. Let the players make that choice. If they want to follow up on that peculiar scarab they picked up from dear old so-and-so, then it makes not a scrap of difference whether that scarab was intended to lead to Rome. Now it definitely does.  

You probably don’t need too many of these, at least up-front. There are only so many shiny things any player can concentrate on at any one time. But you do need some, like so: 

• This character has a 1-point clue that leads to a Dig Site. 
• This character has a 1-point clue that leads to the location of a minor relic. 
• This character has a 1-point clue that can be developed into an important NPC relationship. 
• This character works with the Gorgon Cult and can be persuaded to turn against them. 
• This character has a minor relic (scarab, papyrus, mummy) that they’re prepared to sell. 
• This character has a fake relic that they’re prepared to sell. 
• This character works with a criminal organization and can make an introduction to that organization. 
• This character is actually undead and will lead the players into an ambush if given the opportunity. 

List of potential minor relics: 

• Granite stone inscribed with text. 
• Small amulet of a winged lion. 
• Small amulet of a cat. 
• Badly damaged mummy. 
• Incense burners with the head of Horus. 
• Bust of an important official, possibly Roman or Greek. 
• Papyrus with religious text. 
• Lapis Lazuli scarab. 

Again, you don’t want a lot of these but you need to have just enough on hand to be able to fling them out, when you need fresh meat for the lions.  

Now, remember what I also said about the Building:

When designing a setting, think about how people live and what they have to do in order to live well. Not just the big stuff, like which Camarilla faction holds political sway after dark, or whether ghosts are secretly controlling the police force. I mean the small stuff. What do people do for fun? How do they get their food? Do they have light when night falls, and if so how is that managed? What happens when it's hot? What happens in the rainy season? What happens when it snows? What happens to all the shit - literally, the shit - that your average city produces every day?

With that in mind, some events & locations:

• A funeral procession passes, the emaciated corpse on an open bier, carried by their friends and servants, only covered by a hastily flung shawl. Professional mourners follow behind, howling and bawling. The actual mourners, the spouse and children, are more restrained, but weep real tears. 
• A group of people argue over the acts of an efrit that supposedly haunts a nearby building. The efrit, they say, inhabits the bath, because a servant was murdered in that bath. There is much argument over what to do about it.  
• A group of locals and merchants discuss the Nile floods, and whether this years’ will be as bountiful as the one before. If it is too high a flood, they say, plague will surely follow. 
• The heat today is almost unbearable, making every surface and piece of furniture a furnace. It is almost impossible to move in the streets; even a stroll of a few hundred meters feels like an eternity in a hot griddle.  
• The call to prayer sings out from nearby minarets, bidding the faithful to worship. It is such a melody as would gladden the heart, but tonight there is a tinge of melancholy. Why? Who can say? 
• The flies today are particularly annoying. You cannot wipe them away fast enough; they return again and again, drinking your sweat.  
• A brightly colored lizard perches on a nearby windowsill. Its scales are the most magnificent; a little pharaoh on its throne. It has the most beatific expression, like a bishop welcoming guests into his home. 
• A darb, or by-street, about six or eight feet wide, a thoroughfare, with, at each end, a gateway, with a large wooden door, which is always closed at night. This darb is entirely shops, small recesses at the grand floor of a modest house.
• A hárat, or quarter, a district consisting of one or more streets or lanes with private houses, and but one entrance, with a wooden gate, which, like that of a darb, is closed at night.
• A Sook, or market, a short street, or short portions of streets, having shops on either side. These sooks are covered overhead by matting, extended upon rafters.

You may notice I nicked some of that direct from Gutenberg, with what is probably idiosyncratic spelling. When you're going to be reading it aloud anyway, spelling can slide. 

There's a lot more I could put in this Building. I still haven't mentioned what people do for fun, or whether there's street lighting and if so who manages it, who the civil authority is, who the street-level authority is, and a host of other factors. The point here isn't to be exhaustive. This is meant to point in the right direction for further detail later.

After all, any one of these could occupy a whole evening of play, in theory.  The born gossip with the 1-point clue that leads to a relic directs the characters towards that group arguing over the efrit in the bath, and it's off to the races. The players could practically invent the scenario on their own, by their reactions to those prompts.

Remember, this all sprang from that group of Building occupants who are there to be there. I never delved deep into that group who are there because they have to be there. I leave that to your imagination, except to say that in this situation there are probably two types: the first being the occultists and other esoteric experts who the players may turn to for guidance, and second, the ordinary cultists themselves, the ones not deeply involved in the Gorgon cult but who are cult-aware, and can be trusted to aid the cult when needed.

That's it for this week!