Dec 042013
 

Balance is a tricky thing in RPGs. Some would even argue that it is not relevant and that player agency and good games mastering should be all that is required. I disagree with such sentiments, and think when it comes to character generation, the process should allow for everyone to begin on a level playing field. This is sorely tested when magic is introduced into pretty much any system. Even the simplest of systems can sometimes struggle, but I think Savage Worlds is one of the few that does it well.

One of the classics has a differing approach, with magic being pretty under-powered for starting characters, but growing to epic proportions later, allowing them to outclass their sword wielding brethren as they raise through the levels. In Orbis there are various schools of magic – some high, some low – and they all have differing power levels. For the first time ever I have generated a character with some magic ability, but haven’t concentrated on it. For the people who haven’t been keeping up, my character is a duelist who has access to the power of Geomancy which he mainly uses to give himself advantage in combat.

Geomancy is the power to change the world around you by casting runes. These changes can be small and subtle, such as cleaning the clothes you’re wearing or honing the edge of a blade, or large and obvious, like removing the pull of Uma’s gravity from large objects. In terms most gamers should understand, it is the closest magic system to the traditional way of magic or sorcery from D&D, with a limit on how many “spells” you can learn, and how many you can cast a day, with more powerful runes only available when you have enough points/ranks in the skill. Like D&D magic then, it looks like you start small and could become massively powerful. The amount of time you would need to devote to the art is a huge restriction though.

I have played magic users that within a few months of play could call down fire from the heavens. In Orbis however, there is no way that an adventuring character could ever have the time or resources to spend on learning and mastering such powerful runes. In this way it has an inbuilt balance that is kept under control by the players. Could I learn the truly powerful runes that could shake the very foundations of Uma? Of course I could, but it would be the very definition of a boring role playing experience, and would still take far too long.

There are of course other options to you though. Heart’s Fire is an elemental power that has almost limitless destructive potential. You’d be a bloody fool to unleash it all though, as every use of the Fire carries with it a risk of mutation. This risk rises with continued use and increases in line with how powerful a Fire you wish to wield. Again, self limiting by the player’s choices, and most adventurers only pull out the big guns when their lives depend on it, knowing full well that even if they survive they might never be the same again.

Earth Power is strange one. It is almost limitless from a very early stage, with users able to do almost anything they could imagine! Sounds great so far, but it only affects living things. And the living thing needs to be in contact with Uma. As does the person casting it. So, limited again, but so far I have seen characters with this power possess the will of their enemies or uproot great trees. To keep it under control somewhat, the character has a limited number of “points” that they use to activate their powers. The more powerful the magic, the more points it costs. Come the following dawn though, all points return without even needing the traditional hour or what-have-you of meditation that is usually required for such things.

For me, the one that looks the most broken though, is Daemonology. Basically the ability to reach through the fabric of reality and bring forth creatures whose will you bent to your own with powers almost without limit. Unlike the other magics, the Daemonologist is massively powerful right from the off. The only real limit is that each creature they bring through drains points from their Willpower attribute. Although this can go up, most people who create a Daemonologist have it as high as it’s going to go pretty early on, and soon hit the point where even attempting to bring anything else through is just another way to commit suicide.

In our current game we have one such character who has begun play with a Daemon bound weapon. Because of this weapon, Brand is now the best fighter in the game, easily surpassing professional warriors who have dedicated a boat load of points and abilities in learning how to effectively swing a sword. When I first realised this, I was stunned as I thought that this threw the balance out completely. Not only was he the most effective fighter, but he could still use Daemonology to even better effect! The more I thought about it though, the more I realised that the balance was just a bit backwards.

Other magic users get better – with limits – as time progresses and advancement points are acquired, but the Daemonologist hits their upper point pretty damned quickly and need to look to other areas to improve themselves. Unlike other magic users, they are also unable to use their powers responsively. If I was faced with a superior enemy, I could cast a rune to knock them from their feet and then impale them as they laid helpless. A Daemonologist would require hours – if not days – to bring a creature through to help them in a fight. Add to this the cultural problems with Daemons that exist throughout Uma, and you could end with a character with immense power that isn’t allowed into entire countries.

The lower magics that exist act more like special skills than world altering powers, so don’t need the time spent discussing them. The High magics mentioned above though, are amazing. Each has been created in a way that makes sense within the physics of the world, even of they can sometimes warp said physics. They exist in the cultures of Uma differently, and how you feel about any of them could vary depending on which city you were born in. And, importantly, none of them break the game. You could try, but you would fail, and end up having a fairly rubbish time while you did so. They add so much to the game world, and fight perfectly well into the system without needing a huge amount of extra rules just for them, that you’d be foolish to create a character without at least taking a look at what’s available to you.

In other news, it looks like Kickstarter has sorted out the money going to the lads who created this amazing game, and the digital copies should be going out by the end of the week. If you backed this campaign, I’d love to know what you think about the game when it arrives, so please let me by dropping me a comment below.

Nov 302013
 

Drazar and I sat for a while in conversation that evening. After being offered up as a sacrifice to a Daemon, I knew he wasn’t going to be in the best of moods. At the time I still didn’t know why, but since I hadn’t had the chance to discuss it with Fjorlief, I just set about damping down the fire somewhat. Out there, taking the hard roads through a hard country, I didn’t want to be worried about two of my fellow travelers being at each others throats. Not when it looked like we would have no shortage of strangers more than happy to take on that job.

He seemed happy to listen to me, but managed to once again steer clear of the question of his mask. I wasn’t going to push him too hard though; he seemed happy to talk to me about other things, and pushing him away would have just made matters worse. Caderyn had no such qualms, and was quick to assume the worst, “She was probably off due to your spirit being aflame and being eaten away. You must have done something to cause offense”? He had obviously either overheard our conversation or had been privy to the Vytch’s opinions already.

While we were in the caves of the dead, I had noted that something wasn’t quite write with our Yerwian friend. From what I understood of such matters, he was a wielder of the Earth Powers and something in those dark caves had affected how he was able to sense the flow of the earth power. To this day, I couldn’t explain it any better than that, but it had obviously affected him if I had noticed it while he was hidden behind his mask. The Vytch also used the Earth Powers for her own magics, but didn’t seem to have been as put out by our subterranean journey as Drazar. Maybe she was surprised by how much it had affected him, and that was what she thought was “wrong” about him.

Either way, the Dummonni’s interruption called an end to our conversation and before long Skuza was making his presence known. Thankfully the herbal concoction that Valerius had provided had kept him out of our hair through the worst of the day, but he was up and about again now. For some reason he seemed determined to spend time with us as a man of the people he so clearly wasn’t. He at least seemed on Drazar’s side about the debate, agreeing with me that just getting along would be the best option.

The fact that he seemed equally frightened by the idea of a foreigner, a magic user and a woman probably tells you a lot about the kind of man he was, and after the day we’d had I decided to have some fun with the poor fellow. I knew he was trying his best, but it just wasn’t the right time. As he was stalking the campsite, hand on the pommel of his ferros, trying his damnedest to look every inch the wandering hero, I turned back to Drazar with a smile, “When he next has his back to us, throw a stick into the tree line. Lets see how brave and heroic he really is”.

He looked over to me and I could swear that he was smiling beneath his mask, eyes deep blue even the red light of the fire. There’s only so long that you can have some Numare try and convert you I guess, and that time was long since passed in Drazar’s case. He waited for the right moment and swiftly threw a short branch into the trees at the edge of our camp. Skuza wheeled around hurriedly, hand gripped tightly around his honour blade, eyes wide with fear. It was all I could do to stop myself from laughing, but then Drazar threw again. Skuza spun like a top seeking out the Dummonii partisans that he was sure were waiting just beyond the range of his vision, readying their knives to skin us all at a  moments notice.

They never appeared of course, but Valerius and Brand shortly made their way back, curtailing our fun. I don’t doubt that the physician had as little time for Skuza as the rest of us, but as a fellow Numare, he seemed honour bound to show him respect, and would probably have looked down on us for toying with him. That being said, I was happy to see his stern expression tonight as with it came a Toma. Not the mythological fiend that the Daemon had impersonated to trick us, but an honest to goodness toma. We ate well that evening, with a fresh stew made with vegetables from Brand thrown in the pot too. Brand being Brand, he was quick to work his way through the offal that the rest of us had left behind, tutting away at us for being wasteful.

We weren’t letting it all go to waste though; Valerius had claimed one of its horns, either for a drinking vessel or a prize, and I had asked for the skin. Brand set about treating it for me, and I still have the gloves that were made from that beast to this day.

*     *     *

Once we were all fed, it was time to get some sleep. We maintained the same watch pattern, regardless of Drazar and Fjorlief’s objections to spending so much time together alone. They would just have to put up with it, and if they managed to survive the night together, than there might yet be hope for them. As I pulled my blanket around myself I listened to the noises of the forest at night. After our near call with the vraag the other night, I didn’t fancy being caught out again. All I could hear though were the noises of some Scaren, and the unmistakable cawing of the Corbie that seemed to be following us from the caves.

I hoped no one was foolish enough to try and bring down one of the winged rodents for sport or food. Their defensive mechanism has to be seen to be believed, and really does no benefit to the individual scaren that has to employ it. Luckily I was awoken some time later without finding anyone covered in bits of flesh and foul smelling ichor.

I had a couple of hours before full dawn, so I made sure there was water for a hot drink and anyone who needed to shave, then set about my morning ritual of re-imprinting some selected runes in my memory, in case I might need them during the day. As I was finishing up, I spotted Brand getting himself ready for his particular morning ritual, and smiled as I realised that I had forgotten to remind our employer of the wake up call he was about to receive. As the bellowing and wailing began, I thought how lucky we were to be camped so close to the mountains still, as the echoes joined in his own high pitched shouts, adding to the cacophonous assault.

“Bless Pelo! Is this to happen every morning”! Skuza threw open the window of his caravan and shouted out to us.

“Indeed my Lord”, I replied, with a smile on my face and a warming beverage in my hand, “the daemons do not rest, so our holy man does not either. It is truly a good sign for the day though, just listen to the earth shouting back to him in agreement. Uma herself has blessed this day for us”! I wasn’t entirely sure he believed me, but I was just trying to get through the morning without incident, and was happy for him to take his cup and join us for breakfast. Maybe in future I should learn more about this Pelo, god or man that he was, and use it to placate our nervous patron.

The hunter’s gatherings still remained so we ate well indeed, and Skuza decided to forgo his morning bath, roughing it with his men, as we discussed our route for the day. As a non native to either of the lands we were skirting the borders off, I had little to offer in the discussion, but it seemed that once again we were to brave the Dummonii side as it looked like the quickest way to reach our destination. The other option was a place called Kad-Bah, but only the Pelosians seemed keen on journeying there, and not even all of them.

They made pointed looks towards the New Raphelian and the other foreigners, but Catranasia seemed to have something else on her mind that made her want to steer clear of the outpost. It had a ferry that we could use to cross the river easier, but there would likely have been a day long delay both waiting for the ferry and jumping through the Pelosian bureaucratic hoops. It was all much of a muchness to me, but I was happy to cede to Caderyn’s plan when he informed us all of a fording point only really known to scouts on the Dummonii side. The place was called Maiden’s Play, but I had reason to doubt we would have as much fun as the name implied. With everyone in agreement though, we quickly set off, at our usual walking pace, with the fighters taking point.

*     *     *

It was plainly clear that we were in the disputed lands, and that the war – although winding down for the year – was still fresh, and had left fresh scars on the countryside. Ahead of us were six impaled Pelosian men. All looked like legionnaires to me, with tattoos on their shoulders, bar one that was probably a priest of Pelo. They had been stripped of anything else though, and left to die, naked with a sharp pole thrust up through their arses and out of their mouths. I’d heard stories of such atrocities – and the things that Pelosians did to their own enemies – while I was back home, but it was another thing entirely to see the poor sods hanging limp like that. The partisans were supposedly skilled at such things, and could leave you hanging like that until you died from hunger, rather than pierce any vital organs on the way through.

I doubt if such a thing is possible now, but at the time the stories seemed very real. They had been indeed been there for days, and dead for about that long. The skin was already tightening in the heat, and black carrion flies were everywhere. Soon the bodies would be little more than nests for maggots and eventually just a stain on the wood. Valerius was as grim faced as I had ever seen him, but Skuza was almost apoplectic. Once he had cleared his gut of his breakfast at the sight and smell of the impaled Pelosians, he insisted we cut them down and bury them.

Looking about, it was fairly clear that what ever had happened here had taken place days ago, but I doubt Skuza knew that at all; he just wanted to do the right thing, the bloody fool. The fact that a holy man was hung up there made him doubly sure, even as he once again lost control of the contents of his stomach. “My lord”, interrupted Valerius, “look about you. The tree line is close, and we have no idea if the scalpers are still around. This could likely be a trap, designed to get well meaning folk such as ourselves to stop, so that we can be run through just like these poor souls”.

“Also, we don’t want to offend Krath”. We turned and looked at Caderyn at this, wondering just who the fuck this Krath was, but fully expecting it to be some kind of god of bloody awful deaths and horror. The boss seemed to be the only one who wanted to do anything for the poor bastards – I for one was happy to keep going until we made it across the river, stopping for any length of time made us tempting targets for anyone with a grudge, Dummonii or otherwise. Skuza didn’t want to give up on this though, it seemed like it meant more to him than his own safety, but luckily for us, his constitution got the better of him. He was breathing too quickly, but struggling to suck in any air, and with his hand on his chest he fell unceremoniously backwards in a dead faint.

Valerius and Vitus lifted him back into his caravan, and we all moved off, glad to leave the grim spectacle behind us. Were these more ghosts that would follow me? I hadn’t killed them, or left them to die with a ten foot pole stuffed right up their fundament, but just leaving them like that could still have pissed them off somewhat. They never did haunt me, but I do wonder if Skuza still remembers them?

As we marched further onward there were more signs of the recent hostilities; a few half destroyed buildings in the Pelosian villa style, and corpses of hormorn lying by the side of the road. Someone with better eyesight than me also spotted day old tracks of some zolts, moving tightly together, probably someone’s guard beasts or part of a hunting pack, but it kept us all concentrating on our surroundings, that’s for sure. When I saw more ruined buildings up ahead, I got a strange nervous tickle down the back of my neck. The others looked ready to carry on down the road, but there was at least two buildings on each side of the road, and half ruined or not, they made great hiding places for anyone wanting to ambush us.

“I know it looks like a couple of days since anyone was round these parts”, says I, “but I’d be happier taking a look at those buildings on foot for now, just in case there’s anyone left around waiting to give us a surprise”. Most of them looked at me like I was a paranoid fool, but Drazar was quick to offer his assistance. With his mastery of the Earth Power, I was glad to have him on side, and it seemed that taking the time to talk to him the evening before had worked out in my favour. I thought for a while it would just be the two of us, but Caderyn eventually offered to join us too, something that I would be very thankful for later.

As we made our way forward, Caderyn’s training as a scout was obvious, as he quickly disappeared into the undergrowth, constantly moving from cover to cover. Even Drazar seemed to know what he was doing, but hung back a little his deep blue eyes concentrating through the mask as he slowly stalked towards the buildings. As we neared them I was struggling to keep the Dummonii in sight, so skilled was he at keeping hidden, but Drazar pointed me towards a certain building. I could see nothing unusual about it; no figures in the windows, or shadows moving within, but he seemed sure, and I knew well enough to heed his advise.

Moving closer, I began to hear the sounds of talking. The language was clearly Dummonii, and there was at least four or five people engaging in conversation. I moved as close as I dared before I spotted a bowman on the roof of another building, and realised just how much danger we were all in. From where I was hidden I could just about make out a few obvious partisans, one built like a brick shit-house with a Hutz-axe in hand, a couple of women – including one sat on a tether – and a handful of other rough looking types. I could also just about make out Caderyn, and signaled him to be wary as best I could.

Thinking such a thought, I turned to see Drazar walking down the street towards the building. He was trying his best to stay in cover, but there was no way that anyone stationed on a roof would fail to see him. It was either take a risk or watch or him stuck with Dummonii arrows. Luckily for him, I acted as usual without even really thinking, and gave out a low whistle. The Gods alone know if it sounded like a bird native to anywhere even in these lands, but it got his attention without alerting the Dummonii, and he scampered back to where I was secreted. “Partisans, Drazar”, I whispered, “You need to get back to the wagons and bring Brand and Valerius. Make sure he has his bow strung, there’s at least an archer or two”. And with a nod he was off, keeping his head low heading back towards the carts.

It helped that Caderyn was making a distraction of his own, but at the time I was more concerned with my own skin. He had walked right up to the Partisans, weapons not drawn, hands held high, looking ready to parley. We made eye contact for a brief moment, and then he was talking, loudly at first, claiming to be one of them, or at least in the same line of work. It calmed them down somewhat, and after that he dropped his voice so that I couldn’t make out more than an occasional word. The way he had managed to get close to them with alarming them had me worried that he was about to betray us, and I kept my sword in my hand, the fingers of my other hand tracing out a Rune of sharpening on the air above the blade.

No matter how hard I strained, I couldn’t make out what was being said, but behind them I noticed something that shouldn’t be. A still living Pelosian, stripped almost naked was standing unsteadily on a buggy. His neck had a rope coiled around it that was hanging from the tree above, and every little breeze seemed like it would be enough to knock him off balance and end his life. I looked around for a way to get to him when I finely heard something from the Partisan: “Killing many Pelosians!” It was the big sod, the one carrying the Hutz-axe that looked almost the right size for him. I spied Caderyn quickly, and he seemed to be making placatory hand signals to the men, but I still wasn’t sure exactly whose side he was on.

The wait for reinforcements took an age, so long in fact that Caderyn was walking away from the Partisans, almost straight towards me. I know he was formidable in a fight, but I also knew he was injured, and hoped that if he was about to attack I could take advantage of that and at least finish him off quickly. He still had no weapons drawn though, and was whispering as he came upon my hiding spot, “They mean to let us pass, come back with me, but keep your weapon sheathed”.

Sod that, thinks I, “They haven’t seen me, if I stand up now, how do I know I won’t get perished”?

“Come on you bloody idiot”, was his only reply, but he didn’t seem to want to draw their attention to me, so kept on walking before any of the partisans would get suspicious of his dallying in the rubble. I watched him walk away, back towards the caravans, and held my position, happy to be able to at least hear them talk, now that Caderyn was no longer there, practically whispering. What I heard was something very similar to the conversation going on between my friends I would later find out. Some wanted to kill us as we approached, others were happy to let us past if we didn’t start any trouble, and a few just plain didn’t trust that we were just going to go on our way without trying to kill them all.

I heard all this, and saw the dark fleeting shape of Brand in the tree line. I didn’t know why he wasn’t attacking, but was happy to at least know that him and his magic sword were close by. It would certainly scare the crap out of a bunch of pissant partisans, and could give us the edge we’d need against a group with better numbers and position, should it come to that. It wasn’t to come to that though, and before long, I saw the caravan heading towards me, rolling along at its usual slow pace, with Caderyn at its front. “Come on out Kantrel”, he shouted, “we have safe passage, just put your bloody sword away”! The bugger was looking right at me, and there was little I could do from where I was. I wasn’t going to meekly step forward though, so instead I stood up swiftly with a smile on my face and my steel in hand. With a flourish I swept the length of the blade across my front, and slid it swiftly into its scabbard while turning to face the partisans with a smile and a bow.

Turning my back on them was a hell of a risk, knowing now that they had at least two men with warbows in the buildings above me, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me worry about them, “Don’t worry none, they don’t plan on killing us, just letting us go past if we keep ourselves out of trouble” I said. As I rejoined my companions, I shared a smile with Vitus, who seemed pleased that we had at least got a little something over them, but they weren’t going to let us have the last laugh. One of them had walked towards the hanging man as I had walked away, and as we neared them, ready to go past, he kicked the buggy out from under his feet. The rope went tight, and his legs started to kick. The drop wasn’t far enough to break his neck, and it would be a slow death for this man, whoever he was. “Next we meet, your going to die first, pig-sticker man”, sneered the big fellow, looking at me with a powerful hatred. I kept my hand on the hilt of my sword, knowing that only Caderyn and I were still armed and met his gaze: “I’ll be waiting, when the midnight killer smiles”, I replied in Raphelian and carried on walking, leaving him looking confused.

*     *     *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully; more walking, more signs of war. We were never a very chatty group on the march, but we were practically silent that afternoon. Only Caderyn seemed his usual self, but I can’t imagine him losing any sleep over a dead Pelosian, regardless of whether it was a combatant or just an innocent farmer. This close to the front line, I don’t suppose anyone could be thought of as an innocent bystander.

Come the evening we settled down for another night, and Skuza brought forth a bottle of white wine, and several goblets. It was a small bottle, and shared between us all, we we were lucky to get more than a mouthful each. I wasn’t in the mood to be drinking, so took a small sip for the sake of decorum, than passed what little was left on to Vitus. More than anyone, he seemed to have taken the Pelosian’s unwarranted death to heart. I noticed that Valerius also didn’t seem to be in the mood for drink, but didn’t draw any attention to it. As we sipped, Skuza again went into his man of the people act.

After the day we had had, I wasn’t in the mood to play with him for fun, so instead thought I would do him a favour. He had after all spared us some of his no doubt very expensive wine. As he waffled on about Portage ales and this being the closest thing he had to offer, I took the time to thank him, not only for that, but for being willing to lead from the front when facing the Partisans. I slight bending of the truth, but it lifted his confidence somewhat to know that the men thought highly of him, and in the days to come, we would sorely need him to stay focused on the path ahead, believing he was a capable man to lead us.

With the wine all drunk, we called it a night, set the watches, and prepared ourselves to be woken at dawn in the usual fashion.

*     *     *

The next day we began our journey through the foothills towards the vale of mists, and were lucky enough to have an uneventful morning. Noon rolled around soon enough, and we were again confronted with the signs of the war. At least eight dead Dummonii, each executed in the style of the legion. After dispatching the deserter, I knew the signs well enough, but we moved on with barely a word. It was true that both sides were capable of atrocities in this conflict, but since we had recently seen what the Partisans were willing to do first hand, we were’t in a rush to defend them, or honour their fallen.

We moved on through the mists and ahead of us we heard some kind of commotion. The fog was too thick to see that far ahead of us, but the sounds of a struggle still reached us. Drazar used his gifts to pinpoint its location, and a few of us headed off in that direction. At first I thought we were facing more vraag based on the noises we were hearing, but as we closed in, something bigger was seen striding through the mist. Its long pointed beak was sharp enough to rival my steel, and it moved quickly, like a fencer sizing up an opponent.

The Dagger bill was huge, and if it wasn’t in our way, I would have been happy to have gone around it, rather than tangle with it. We didn’t have that luxury though, so we went at it with a gusto. The mist was too think to be entirely accurate about what happened during the melee, but I do remember Drazar falling at one point. The point of my Baseado found its target, but the thing was wearing armour! Around its neck hung a small steel plate acting as a breastplate.

The cling of metal on metal had me startled, and I glanced around, not sure what to expect. On the ground behind the bleeding Dagger Bill was a body in a pool of blood. Seeing this, I looked again at the creature, taking in its livery and decoration. It was clearly a pet of some kind, maybe even a riding beast, but these things were often trained to defend their owners too. In a few more seconds, the bird was down, with Fjorlief claiming the final blow, and its neck. As we all calmed down, getting out breathe back, we stepped forward around the fallen body, wondering what had become of it.

Nov 182013
 

My way is not the right way for everyone. I understand this, and know that there probably isn’t a right way for everyone, but I’ve kept dozens of player diaries, and read even more that have been written by other gamers. Rather than tell you how they should be done, as I don’t think there is a correct way to do them, I’ll be offering a few things that you should be thinking about if you’re about to start keeping a record of your character’s activities, or are struggling to maintain one already in process.

Firstly, who are you writing it for? Is this something that the other players will be checking in one after every session? Is it for the GM’s eyes only, or maybe just for yourself? Are you putting it out there for the general public, to let people who have never even played the game or spent time with any of the characters involved. Firstly, lets assume that at the least, the other players in your group will be checking in on the diary.

This can present you with some problems if there’s a few things about your character that you’d rather others didn’t find out about. If this is the case, you have a couple of options open to you. You can indulge in some creative editing to keep these things your own dirty little secret, but you need to be careful about keeping the story flowing without giving anything away. If you’re playing in a game that indulges in secrets and conspiracies, you could play up to this. Write out your full character diary, including all the things you don’t want people to know, then redact the sensitive topics before sending it out to the world. Your other option is to write the diary in such a way that there’s would be no way that the players would have any access to it.

In my particular case I have written the diary from the point of view of my character as retired adventurer. This works for a couple of reasons, notably being that at the present time, the character cannot read or write. In case my GM is reading this, it has nothing to due with subtly implanting the suggestion in his mind that I’m going to survive whatever he throws in front of me so that I get the chance to retire and write my memoirs. This might explain why they are so long winded, as I also appear to be channeling the writing style of the late George MacDonald Fraser in his Flashman series of books. It has even occurred to me that they are quickly turning from a  player diary, into the first draft of a novel.

I think this comes down to another option; writing for yourself. True, other people do read them, and I’ve gotten so far positive feedback, but they’re not being written as a way for the other players to check up on for a quick summary of the last week’s adventures. I’m writing my diary because I like writing, and the stories we’re telling weekly are fantastic, and well worth taking the time to commit to page, or in this case screen. The odd thing is, although I am mainly writing for myself, I am sharing with them with a much wider audience by putting them on the blog. If you’re planning on doing something similar, prepare yourself for the challenge of writing about an imaginary world that the reader may never have encountered before.

I’m pretty lucky in this, as the game my character exists in, is in the middle of a successful Kickstarter campaign. Because of this, they have been sharing a lot of stuff about their game that I can link to for people wanting more information. I still need to be careful though, and make sure I take the time to include some details that are required to give the neophyte reader a chance of understanding what the heck is going on.

If you’re looking to create a record of events that’s just there to serve as reminder of the in game activities, then you could try something completely different, and move away from the first person narrative at all. Write from an outsider perspective – I have found that newspaper stories or other journalistic forms work pretty well – and you don’t need to worry about including anything personal, and by necessity your writing should be quick and punchy, without needing to go into too much detail.

More importantly though, set yourself a realistic time frame with your chosen method. My entries are massive, but I give myself plenty of time to write them. If you don’t have the spare time, then give yourself a reason to only write shorter summaries of the action. If your finding yourself getting stressed out about maintaining a schedule at your current expected word count, then you’re missing the point, and should probably reevaluate how your approaching your diary.

Nov 162013
 

After the fight, with a dead deserter at my feet, I remembered feeling on top of the world. Two of us had been hired on to fight, and one of us had walked away with nothing but a torn sleeve, the other a wound that required the care of Valerius. True, the New-Raphelian surprised us all, but since we knew what he was made of now, there’s was no way I was going to be leaving him on the rear cart while the rest of us fought. I was very pleased with myself though, as if I had already faced down the worst that the road had to offer us, and from there on out, it’d be smooth sailing.

I will tell you the full tale of the journey in good time, but for now lets not jump too far ahead. First, we had to decide the route we would take, and it seemed that I wasn’t the only brash young man with something to prove, as it took little time at all to decide on the quicker, more dangerous, Dummoni controlled route to get us to market nice and quick. Caderyn knew the way, and had taken it before. He assured us we would not be waylaid by his countrymen, but that we should not expect any aid from them either. Still, if we wanted to get Skuza’s goods to the market in time to set our prices, speed was of the essence and so the decision was made. Thankfully it wasn’t my job to let our massively nervous employer know that we would be journeying into the heart of the enemy, that was down to Valerius.

As a Numare, he was the only one who could talk to the boss as an equal, and Vitus seemed even happier than I was that the job was out of his hands. Valerius wasn’t exactly rushing headlong into the task though, and decided to wait until we made camp that night. On the way I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me, and began asking the Dummoni exactly what we could expect from our journey. It was a short conversation, but when someone starts talking about the caves of the dead, it tends to make people slightly more introspective. Luckily we didn’t have long to wait until we found a campsite for the night, and set about settling ourselves down.

We were lucky to find a large flat area that we could get all of the wagons onto, and keep the beasts far enough out of the way that getting trampled into the dirt as we slept was unlikely. The only things we shared our campsite with were nine standing stones. “Ah, the nine climbers”, said Caderyn, walking to each in turn. As he walked, he spoke a little blessing in Dummoni in front of each; he was quiet so I didn’t catch exactly what was said, but in front of each he stopped, kissed the tips of his fingers and then placed them against each stone. I know that this might sound strange, but as he went, he told us about the stones. “One’s a Daemon”, he began, and I immediately looked towards our Pelosian travel companions for their response.

The boss and his man were out of earshot, Valerius seemed to take it all in stride – that coupled with the warbow still about his person made me even more curious about his past life – but Vitus and the young Pelosian woman who seemed to be some kind of beast minder both looked concerned, even if only for a moment. “No one knows which one for certain”, Caderyn continued in broken Pelo-Margo, “Although there’s plenty of people with ideas, but none are better than guessing. The daemon turned himself to stone to avoid some pursuers you see, but changes his position each night in case they get too close. You can see that over the years the climbers have gotten a little bit further up the mountain.” He stopped again in front of the final stone, taking his time with this blessing, maybe knowing something we didn’t about which stone was more than it appeared, “Maybe once they get to the top, he’ll feel safe and turn back into his Daemon form.”

I fear no daemon more than I do a man. True, some have powers that can shake the foundation of the mortal realm, but I’ve heard stories of men and women able to do the same, so I say take each person as they are, and you won’t go too far wrong. The Pelosians, by their cultural upbringing have different views, and I took some small pleasure watching their faces throughout this. Thank the Gods that Skuza wasn’t able to hear all this though; he was a damned nervous fellow at the best of times, and I can’t imagine it would have aided his nerves to know how close he was to bedding down in a Daemon’s shadow.

Before that though, he needed to get himself and his carriage clean. I couldn’t give two half hearted tugs about how clean he was, but I felt a touch of responsibility about the carriage, having had a hand in the blood spurt that flew through his window. Being the nice chap I am I offered to help his man out in bringing buckets of water up from the river to clean and cook with, and when we got back, a few had wandered off to bring some fresh meat back for supper. This meant my kindly demeanour was once again taken advantage of as I helped drag a huge and heavy bath from out of Skuza’s carriage. Ornate and preposterous are the two words that come to mind when I think back on it, with finely detailed daemon feet to raise it from the ground, it would probably fetch more than I hoped to make from this trip if sold to someone with taste to match Skuza’s.

This seemed to calm him down as he hid behind a screen to protect his modesty and soaked his tiny balls while the rest of us cooked and ate the game that had been killed for us. Valerius had put his unpleasant task off for long enough though, and once Skuza was dried down and powdered, he joined us around the fire. Well, near the fire anyway, and they began talking in Pelosian. I knew the other Pelosians would be able to tell what was being said, and the rest could maybe guess at a word or two as they could just about get by in the broken tongue of  Pelo-Margo, but I somewhat gave away my own fluency as the conversation progressed. “Maybe we should go back”, Skuza began; the sentence that was fast becoming his catchphrase, but on this occasion I can’t remember exactly what his piffling reason was.

“No my lord, we must continue, and make good time doing so if we are to be first to market”, countered Valerius, laying the ground work well, “and that means going south of the river”. The splutter of relaxing tea that sprayed from the boss’s mouth almost drenched Valerius, but he continued with barely a pause. “We will make better time by avoiding the bureaucracy we would encounter by staying on the Pelosian roads and going through the settlements. We are both Numare and as such must be counted and tallied. By going through Dummoni lands, we avoid all that, and have a shorter route too”.

“But Valerius, we will be killed and eaten by the savages once they know who we are!”, he exclaimed, continuing to waffle on about correctly notarized paperwork and heathens with barely a break to suck in some air.

“My lord, we will ensure the best prices by taking this quicker route, and when you return home, with your fortune restored, your eligibility when looking for a Serra Skuza will be greatly increased when you have stories of bravery and derring-do to regale them with”. With hindsight, I could certainly have picked a more opportune moment to take a mouthful of warm tea, but how was I to know the gem that was about to spill from the nobleman’s lips.

“You are correct of course my friend, and I have always thought of myself as being something of an adventurer.” Well, with that I was lucky to stop myself from spraying The new Raphelian – Brand, as I had taken to calling him – with my own beverage, but instead managed to turn it into little more than a loud exclamation of laughter, quickly hidden by a coughing fit as I struggled to keep myself from laughing further. The Gods bless the little man though, as he was quick to suggest that Valerius come to my aid. I was just as quick to protest, and claim the matter was far from serious, and I think the doctor understood what had happened as he was happy to leave me be.

I drowned the rest of the conversation out to save myself from paroxysms of laughter, but I gathered that by the end, Valerius had done his job well, and tomorrow we would brave the caves of the dead. We still had a night in the wilds to survive though, so watches were posted, and I crawled under my blanket to try and get some sleep.

It didn’t seem like I was out for long before the night air was torn apart by a feminine scream. I was quick to find my find my feet, and was drawing my steels as I spotted Drazar come flying backwards from Skuza’s carriage, propelled by the vraag that had pounced on him. Whoever was supposed to be on watch had obviously let their concentration slip to allow the beast access to the boss’s inner sanctum, but since one of those people was Drazar, it looked like he was already getting his comeuppance. As I got to my feet, steels in hand, it looked touch and go for the masked man; he had obviously cast some form of magic to try and dislodge the creature, but it had done little than cut its flesh somewhat and anger it even more. As I watched it snapped its jaws towards Drazar, drawing blood before I could do anything to stop it.

There was no way it was getting a second chance though, and with my head down and Basaedo held at my waist pointing forward I charged towards it as fast as I was able, and thrust the sword directly into the thing’s side. I felt the point break flesh, and thought I had inflicted a killing wound. But the vraag had faster instincts than I had expected and was rolling with blow almost as soon as it had landed. My sword may not have killed the creature, but it bit deep and forced it away from Drazar. I had heard horror stories about the ‘summer’ vraag though; male beasts, either old enough to have been forced out by a younger pup, or a young pup that had failed to secure its place at the head of the pack, both of which would be desperate and hungry enough to attack without its pack as support. Expecting the worst, I dropped back into a defensive posture, waiting for its next move.

I didn’t have long to wait though, as coming up on my left was Caderyn, axe in hand and swinging it hard down towards the body of the beast. Once more though it moved quicker than expected and the blow took it in a hind leg, the crack echoing around the rocks, sounding louder than the whelp of pain. The vaarg was still moving but going slowly now, whimpering rather than growling. That wasn’t to say it couldn’t still pose a threat, and putting it out of its misery could be considered a mercy so I stepped forward aiming to finish it off, the final strike finally putting it down.

Drazar was badly cut, but used his own magics to clean and seal the wound before I could even offer a medicinal rune to help him out. In the distance we could all here the baying of other vraags. It mustn’t have been a lone creature, but it seemed like the rest of its pack wanted nothing to do with attacking us, and were withdrawing. I wasn’t convinced they wouldn’t return though, so stoked up the fire before getting myself comfortable once more. Brand seemed happy taking what he could get from the vraag’s corpse, but everyone else looked ready to get straight back to sleep. Skuza would need some help though, and once more he was adamant that we turn around and retreat home, coming back with trained hunters to clear the way. A stupid idea of course, and luckily Valerius was once more on hand to calm him down and give him something to help him sleep. The herbal tea he offered was potent stuff indeed, as Skuza was still protesting, claiming the danger of the road was too much, and that come the morning we would turn around as he fell into a deep sleep.

*     *     *

My own watch, several hours later, went fine. No wild animals, no daemons shifting stones, just time spent relearning the runes I thought I might need for the next day. Caderyn had asked me to wake him early as he had preparations to make himself, and Brand was on the morning watch with me, as he had something he needed to take care of come the dawn. I’d heard about this, knew what was coming, and decided to hold off on rousing the Dummoni, allowing him a wake up call the everyone had better quickly get used to. You see, the folk of New Raphelia have their own way of keeping dark forces at bay.

Every morning, they greet the dawn with a screaming bellow, dancing naked – or damned near it –  shaking whatever they have to hand in an effort to scare away anything unpleasant that could have dared to creep up on them during the darkest hours. I couldn’t comment on how the daemons react to this hellish noise – none of the stones seemed to be at all put out by it – but it scares the living shit out anyone not prepared for it. By now, you could probably imagine just how the boss reacted, throwing open his window – barred from the inside after the vraag attack – and expecting hell on earth to have surrounded our campsite. Valerius seemed almost as put out as everyone else after the noise, so it fell to me to calm him down on this occasion. Luckily my Pelosian is pretty strong, even if I was unable to read and write it at the time. “Fear not the daemons my Lord”, says I, ” the New Raphelian is doing his damnedest to keep them at bay from the rest of us. It is a religious observance, carried out each morning to keep us all safe through the day from Daemonic influences.”

“Ah, yes. I see now”, Skuza lied, “should we all join in? A concerted effort if you will, to  drive away the foul creatures?”

“Best not my Lord. He’s a priest of his people, and knows the correct mannerism to be fully effective. Interrupting him, joining in even, no matter the intent could derail all his hard work. Best leave him to it, and just be thankful we have him on this journey.”

“Of course, of course.”, he nodded vigorously, before turning to Vitus, and whispering loud enough for the whole camp to hear continued, “We really must make an effort to convert him before the end of the trip.”, before ducking back into his little nest. Vitus barely had it in him to nod in agreement, but breakfast and a warming drink were already on the go, and I was happy to get back to shaving. Caderyn’s preparations differed somewhat from my own though. As we were eating, he was painting his body. The front side white, the rear black, and his face to mimic a crow. It was how the tribe who guarded the caves of the dead presented themselves, and he was obviously looking to fit in.

We were soon on our way again though, with the freshly painted Caderyn taking the lead, with me out front, but sticking close to the wagons as he moved quickly out of sight ahead of us. We’d moved Brand to the front cart, and Skuza’s home on wheels was between that and the rear cart, hoping to keep him out of trouble. After an hour or so on the road, I realised we were getting close to the two faced Corbie tribe. The birds they so idealised were in evidence, if not currently present. The entire valley floor was inches deep in shit and feathers drifted around our legs on the wind. A couple of corners later, and there was the tribe; on the cliff tops overlooking us, perfectly arranged to drop rocks from above, crushing us before we could even move. Luckily that didn’t seem to be their intention, as Caderyn had arrived ahead of us and told them what to expect.

We were expecting a challenge of some kind before we were allowed access to the caves, but since the manner of the test changed depending on who was taking it, we had no idea what to expect. The Corbie didn’t seem to want to hold up our journey for long though, and offered a simple test. We would send forth a champion who was to take a feather from a man of their own. He was a big chap though, tough looking, with just as much muscle on him as fat, and when he slid down the steep incline to step into the challenge circle, he was so light on his feet it looked as if he was gliding down on the feathers that adorned him.

Looking around at our fellows, the only one who looked his match for pure size and strength – not to mention body colour – was Caderyn. He was far from keen, but knew we had few other choices open to us, so stepped into the circle. The contest was far from evenly matched, with the Corbie’s size and dexterity more than a match for our man. He tried though, using trickery and feints to hopefully put the bigger man off his stride, but he had an answer for everything. Before long Caderyn was on the ground, and the wrestler was stamping hard onto his crotch. Our collective groan was easily drowned out by the cheers of the Corbie, but their man seemed unwilling to inflict further punishment on ours. After a brief exchange with the one who seemed to be in charge – and also high as a kite, if I’m any judge – a feather was taken from his headdress and handed to the still prostrate Caderyn. “You could have just asked for it”, the wrestler informed him as he was helped to his feet.

We had already answered their question, “Challenge, hearth, or passage?”, with passage, and with the fun of the show well and truly over, most of the Corbie seemed less interested in us, and drifted away from view as we were shown towards the entrance to the caves.

*     *     *

Caderyn had told us some of what to expect, that we would be entering a place where the barriers between this world and the next were worn thin. This could give easier access to our world for any manner of beings, be they Daemon blooded or those who were once living and breathing humans. On the road already I had added two the tally of possibly restless dead that could be on my trail, so I was stepping carefully to say the least. Once more Caderyn and I were at the front, and Vitus had passed me a small flaming torch to help light the way. Natural light was in short supply, with occasional glowing fungus, self illuminating crystals and even occasional light wells from above.

Sat in the centre of one such light well was what looked to be a half dead and rotting tree stump, surrounded by Corbie. At first they seemed to be standing and sitting in silent contemplation of the stump, but every once in a while, one would step forward and silently push his arm into a hole in the stump. With more to concern us, I never bothered to ask Caderyn the significance of the act, but once their arm had been in for a few moments, it was withdrawn and the next tribesman would take his turn. With a shake of my head I turned away as we approached a fork in the road. There were many markings around the fork, some at least I recognised as being Dummoni, but I had no clue how to read the language so left the decision making up to our guide.

There were several such choices along the way, and unfortunately, we didn’t always pick the best option. On one such occasion, it was only after we had already moved the front cart passed the fork that the error was spotted by Valerius. Once more his familiarity with all things Dummoni had paid off, as he was able to decipher the runic markings on the walls, and insisted that we pull back and take the other route. Easier said than done, with few of us able to handle the hormorn with much skill, but we did eventually manage it.

I had other things to occupy me though. Occasionally as we had stalked the caves, grasping limbs had reached out from holes in the cavern walls, and a generous man might just about think of them as hands with long fingers. “They ask for an offering”, Caderyn informed us, “but just how much it matters to give one has never been confirmed”. I watched them for the longest time, wondering just what they could be seeking, but imagining nothing pleasant.

“We have similar creatures at home”, came the voice of Brand, “they have a fondness for eyes”. Just about as bad as I thought then, and there was no way I was giving up one of my own with no guarantee of getting an easier passage in exchange. Brand reached into one of his many pouches and brought forth a fleshy orb, that he dropped into the waiting fingers of a nearby limb. It quickly withdrew, and the noises issuing from within reminded me of a child licking the last remnants of sweet cream from a mixing spoon. I would like to think the savage had just kept an eye from the Vaarg we had slain, as the other possibilities were not exactly pleasant to dwell on. 

With the carts almost all lined up again, I found myself alone for a moment, keeping an eye out down the passage we had elected to turn away from, just in case there was any danger to be found. Curiosity is my only excuse for what happened next, and I’m still unsure as to what other motive there could be for my actions. I must have known that it was something that should not be done as I looked about me, making sure that everyone else was otherwise engaged before I drew my razor from its leather pouch. I opened the blade up and gently drew it down my thumb, taking care to keep the wound as small as I could manage. As the blood pooled on my skin, I wiped the flat of the blade across it, smearing the dark liquid across its surface.

Reaching forward I wiped the same flat of the blade across an extended digit. It withdrew with unnatural haste, and I once again heard the greedy slobbering from within. Within a second or two, it shot out again, quicker than I had expected, and it even seemed to be reaching out further towards me, hungrily. I didn’t know if I had appeased it, or given the hidden creature a taste for something very precious to me; only time would tell. I slipped the straight razor away again and with a final look towards the rest cast a small rune to seal the wound clean hopefully avoiding questions about it.

I quickly rejoined the rest of the party, and retook my position at the front and we soon approached another fork. This one presented us with a an interesting problem, as from one side we could clearly hear the sounds of a woman crying out. My first instinct was to rush to her aid, but thankfully calmer heads prevailed. Many were expecting a trap, and based on what else we saw in those damnable caves, I was very glad we turned away from her sobs and continued on our way.

Nov 072013
 

Coming towards us out of the rain came two structures; the Toll Master’s house, and the bridge it was his duty to collect tolls from. The price wasn’t much, but I was still glad that our erstwhile employer was paying the coin per leg of those passing through. Vitus obviously expected this tax, as he had a pouch in hand before the Toll Master had even finished wheezing his demand through teeth stained with dark blood from his gums. As he started counting it out onto the rain splashed counter he activated the mechanism that began to raise the portcullis that blocked either end of the covered bridge.

The house and the bridge were of obvious Pelosian manufacture, and as such looked as if they would last through the next five ages. The Toll Master was talking in the common mish-mash of the two tongues of the Margomarissi however, and it struck me as unusual as we trudged through the wet ground onto the rain slicked stonework. From behind I heard one of my companions raise some kind of fuss. The Medic with the mask who spoke in sibilant tones was shouting about seeing someone off the side of the road, and Vitus turned his tether to investigate cantering away behind us. I was already uneasy, and this had me on edge. I looked through the rain towards the guards on the opposite side and started to notice things that made my hair stand on end.

Sure, they were dressed in the accouterments of the Pelosian legions, but it didn’t look right, even through the drizzle. I turned quickly to my right as I sensed more than saw some movement; a bedraggled man with soaking hair and rags was lumbering towards me with what looked to be a wood-chopping axe as he screamed out a guttural noise. I had no weapon to hand and if it wasn’t for my instincts I would certainly have been struck by his wild swing. To my left I heard the sound of metal striking wood and realised that my Dummoni compatriot was being assailed himself. Whether he was quick enough to throw his shield in front of the axe, or was just lucky enough to be fighting against an unskilled peasant, I was glad he had come out of the first encounter well, but immediately I had other things on my mind.

On the bridge ahead, even with the continuing deluge, I could tell that the Legionnaires had drawn and were attempting to aim stock bows at us. I can only imagine they had never used such weapons in the past as they had refused to drop their shields, and were struggling to bring them to bear. I had few options open to me as I drew my steels, but by using some fancy footwork I managed to get my attacker between the Pelosians and myself, offering me some cover if they were lucky enough to get off an accurate bolt. As I was moving, a Pelosian on our side took his chance and although I never saw it, he had climbed onto the roof of Skuza’s carriage and had loosed an arrow from a Dummoni bow.

All I knew of him at the time was that he had been hired on as some kind of physician to cater to Skuza’s many maladies, and that he was known as Valerius. What the hell he was doing with a Dummoni warbow and how he had managed to become so proficient with it was surely going to be an interesting story to tell later down the road. For now though all I knew was that keeping their shields up had done our assailants a favour as I heard the distinct sound of the arrow thudding into wood. I on the other hand was doing well, and with a quick thrust forward I had pushed the point of my Baseado through the bastard’s cheek. If we had left the fight there, he would have had a dueling scar to be proud of, but he was not to be dissuaded that easily.

As my own little melee was going on, my travel companions were engaged in their own struggles. I heard little of this, and saw even less, but will do my best to fill in the details based on what they had to say for themselves once the dust, ah, sorry, mud, had settled, and what other details I can remember. First I heard the Toll Master shouting a threat as the portcullis hammered down behind us, trapping the lead four of us on the bridge, while the others were left behind, “Just give us yer money! It ain’t worth it t’ fight back”! Well, he had obviously little experience of Pelosian business men if he thought that would be enough to get us to hand over what little we had, but it turned out he was deadly serious in thinking that we were outnumbered and sure to die unless we just rolled over with our money pouches exposed. There were two youngsters on the cliff above us, dropping rocks onto us as we defended against our assailants, but worse than that a hulking Hutzlnr was also soon in the fray, swinging a sword over a foot longer than my own as he charged towards the caravans. With him came a few others, all looking as down at heel as the bugger who was trying to make firewood of me, but with the giant on their side, they must have been confident.

Our own Hutzlner was quick to shout to him, and I only know what was said because it was translated to me afterwards. “Back down or feel the wrath of a Vytch!”, she screamed, but he was not to be dissuaded. Not even when a shot from her sling struck him in the chest. Vitus took advantage of the distraction to swing his short sword at the hulking northman, but to little affect. I saw the man after everything had calmed down, and he was a monster, even compared to his kinsmen I had previously met. He was also wearing a particularly fine doublet that I wasn’t too proud to grab, holed and bloody though it was. Back to the action though, and the masked man had already redeemed himself for distracting Vitus, by calling on the earth and the plants within in to pull down the cliff side, dislodging the children from above. Valerius seemed also keen to make up for an early missed shot and was quick to loose an arrow through the portcullis into the back of one of the youngsters who had regained his feet. The other was quick to leg it, and I for one wasn’t too keen to go after him.

The Vytch, Fjorlief, must have realised that intimidation wasn’t going to be effective against her countryman, and was soon employing her arcane arts, taking him over in body and mind, but leaving his soul in there to struggle against her bewitchment, his teeth grinding as he walked towards her and dropped the fine curved blade at her feet. With that in her hand, she and Vitus went at him with vigor, and although he eventually broke free from her enthrallment, it was too late to stop the inevitable and he fell beneath their blows. The hero of the fight off the bridge though was the New-Raphelian.

He had tried to tell us his name earlier, but I have no skill at his tongue, instead he translated it for us, and I think it was something along the line of “Fire Caused by Lightening”. I had thought of him as little other than a guide, but apparently he had performed exceptionally well, tearing through the swine who were trying to drag the goods from out of the rear carriage in seconds. No one was able to stand against his onslaught, as the ground was pink with blood and rainwater wherever he trod. He even saved the masked man, who although gifted with Earth Power, was unable to turn aside a knife slash from one of the bastards who had cornered him against the side of the middle caravan.

While all this was going on, I had problems of my own to deal with. While Cadeyrn the Dummoni was handling himself with a mix of style and brutality, I had a bolt shot at me as I turned aside another axe blow with my dagger. The swine was obviously expecting to take advantage of my previous thrust, exploiting an opening in my defense that only my dagger could close. I hoped then that many others would try the same thing; the dagger was specially made for my style of fencing, with a heavier blade than one would expect, a basket hilt and reinforced pommel meant that I had no trouble parrying even his vicious attacks with a hand axe. The wound on his face didn’t seem to be slowing him down much, so I thrust forward again. This time I aimed lower, and ended the thrust with a flick, puncturing his neck and opening up the artery beneath the skin, causing a spray of blood to splash against the carriage, and through the small window on its side.

He was made of rock this man though, and looked ready to come in again, maybe in his final act ever. I stepped backwards quickly, seeing one of the Pelosians running towards us, his stock bow dropped and a short sword now in hand to match his shield. I either wasn’t quick enough, or was paying too much attention to the charging Legionnaire, but the blow just about landed, and I felt it jar against my left arm. I was very glad indeed for the armour I had picked up earlier, as it cut through it but didn’t even break skin.

If he was still on his feet, blood gushing from between his fingers, and his mate was on the way, I needed to change my tactics. I dropped back onto the ball of my rear foot, and set my steels across my chest, It still might not be enough though, so I quickly inscribed a rune in the air and flung it forward. A powerful gust of air ripped ahead of me, as if from nowhere. The bleeder was flung from his feet, and even the Pelosian was staggered onto his back foot. I decided to still play it safe though, and kept in a defensive posture until I had got a read on my new friend.

I was very grateful I had, as within a few seconds I knew he was a pretty close match in terms of skill. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but his large shield meant he could stay behind it indefinitely, with little I could do to break his defenses. As I was contemplating my remaining runes, wondering which would allow me the chance to disarm him, Caderyn jogged towards us, his arm red from a blow he was unable to get his shield in front of. The Pelosian looked from one to the other of us, and I saw panic in his eyes. “Drop the sword”, I said in Pelosian, and was gratified to see him acquiesce. Switching to Dummoni, I turned to Caderyn, “He has surrendered to me, he is to be spared”.  He leaned forward and used the hook of his own waraxe to drag the shield free from my prisoner as we set about discussing terms.

By then, the fight was all but over, and the Toll Master had opened the portcullis once more, but refused to exit his hideaway. I knew I had little authority of the prisoner, but I found out his name, Marco, and took his blade from the ground. It was a Ferros, a Pelosian honour blade, and there was no way it was his own. The other Pelosians were quick to question him about what had happened, and although he had few answers, they did establish that he was a deserter from an actual legion. I had heard from others that punishment for desertion was death, but I was unhappy allowing anyone else to kill him. Bandit or legion man, he had fought well, and surrendered to me personally. I offered the Ferros to Skuza as a trophy, but insisted that I be allowed to carry out the punishment. I had heard how the Pelosians liked to make deserters suffer before allowing them to pass on, and he didn’t deserve that.

While he was on his knees, begging for his life, I took his shoulder firmly in hand, and leant down to whisper in his ear, “Go to your God with honour”, before pushing the point of my dagger quickly into his skull just past his spine. As he heard my words he started to struggle, and then went stiff as the dagger went in. I felt a little bad for him, but knew that at least he had died quickly at the hands of his enemy, rather than bleeding out whilst nailed to a cross.

With everyone who had engaged in the ambush either dead or fled, we took stock of their gear, taking anything of value leaving the rest to the rain. I also took the time to close up Caderyn’s wound with a simple rune, but the masked man had taken care of his own deep gash with Earth Power. It had all taken a few minutes at most, and the majority of that involved talking to Marco before I killed him. Skuza was as happy as I had seen him, covered in blood though he was – the spurt had apparently caught him full in the face as he had lain, passed out in his carriage after the fight broke out – he was pleased that we had quickly and easily fought off the bandits with barely a scratch, and no loss of his valuable cargo.

And with that, we were once more on our way…

Nov 072013
 

Combat is on my mind of late, and it’s mainly down to what I was up to on Tuesday. Our first week of playing Orbis Terrarum started a bit late as we were waiting on a couple of chaps who weren’t part of the group when we generated characters, so we dropped into the second game with a fight just about to happen. I will be doing part two of my PC diary soon, to give you a blow by blow account of my heroic exploits. For now though, lets just take a look at how the system works, and what it does well, and what it might not do quite so well.

To begin with we have initiative; each person rolls a D10 and adds their reaction modifier to the roll, to give them their place in the initiative order. The reaction modifier is calculated during char gen, and is usually a low number, probably no more than 3-4, so most of this comes down to random chance. What doesn’t is the situation when combat starts, and what the metier of the encounter is. We discussed metier briefly during the last part of the review, but it applies to more than just people, and can have a distinct bearing on the game play throughout. Since this was an ambush, it meant that most people would be taken by surprise – I never did find out what the rest of the combat’s metier was, but ambush was bad enough – unless they were used to being in combat situations.

This meant that the warriors and fighters amongst the party don’t get the surprised modifier of minus ten, and can respond regularly. Everyone else reduces their initiative by ten points, so unless they did pretty well, won’t get an action this first turn. After the first turn, they lose the surprise modifier, and if they’re back into positive numbers, get an action. Once that’s sorted, we move onto the actual fighting. Combat is a back and forth in Orbis, but still manages to maintain a simplicity of dice rolling that I appreciate. You choose the attack you wish to make and roll against the relevant skill. Different attacks are based on different attributes, and have a base in either brawl, melee, or ranged. You then specialise in a weapon, getting ranks in it, and increasing it further with advancement points.

Getting below your score with a D100 roll means you will have hit, but your opponent will certainly be trying to stop you. They have several options in how they do this, but they all work in pretty much the same way. If they have a weapon that allows it, they may attempt to parry. Usually the parry score for a weapon is half of its attack value, but can be modified based on size and after market modifications. A shield is designed to block blows though, so your score in it is equal to your parry, and your attack is halved. The other option is to dodge out of the way of the blow, which means just using your dodge skill level instead of your parry. Whichever skill you use, you apply the level in it as a negative modifier against your opponent’s attack score.

This might seem a bit complicated, but once the combat begins, it gets really easy, with a one roll being made to determine the hit, and a number against it as a modifier. If you do manage to get through your opponents defenses, you need to know where you’ve hit, and how hard. The ‘tens’ result of the attack roll gives you your level of success, and the ‘ones’ your location. The level of success is used as a modifier added to how much damage you do, and can be increased depending on how you fight. Fighting defensively for instance means you get a bonus to your passive defensive skills, but will do less damage – rolling a smaller die, and doing less per level of success – whilst fighting aggressively grants you a bonus to attack, and the chance to do more damage, but severely limits your ability to avoid being hit on the counter attack.

When all that’s done, you just roll the necessary die for damage, adding the level of success plus strength based modifiers, and apply it to your opponent. Hitting in various locations doesn’t make too much difference unless they’re armoured in certain places, but not others, or if you’ve succeeded in a critical hit. If they are wearing armour, then it all comes down to armour type versus attack type. Slashing a knife across the chest of someone wearing plate armour for instance, won’t really do much, but stabbing a rapier through someone’s mail might just hit home and cause them all kinds of problems.

So there we have the combat system in a nutshell, we’d better get to grips with the intricacies. The aim of the combat system is to make it dangerous but heroic. If you’re no match for your opponent, you will either flee, die, or be spared, but will certainly still offer a challenge to them. If you’re the one with a higher skill one opponent will be little challenge while still posing a threat, but even one more enemy could up the threat rate considerably. When fighting someone of comparable skill though, things get a bit different.

I ended up fighting two different opponents, one of whom was of lower level with poor equipment, the second was a much more equal match with a decent weapon and shield. Dispatching the first wasn’t much of an issue, although he did manage to survive one more round than I expected whilst bleeding heavily from the jugular, the second was more of an issue. The reason it’s a challenge to fight multiple opponents, is that you suffer penalties for using your passive defenses more than once a turn. Luckily I had a little bit of magic up my sleeve so I managed a distraction to stop myself from getting attacked twice in a round, but then the combat got a bit sluggish for me.

Because my opponent – Marco – had a shield and had seen me dispatch his comrade earlier, he decided to fight defensively. This meant that even if I attacked aggressively I would have next to no chance of hitting him. He was in the same boat too, which meant that for two rounds, nothing happened. On the second, I didn’t even attempt an attack as I had done the maths, and realised how risky it would be. You see, for each rank you have in an attack skill, you automatically gain a one percent chance of hitting your opponent. For me this meant three percent. What stopped me making the roll though was the chance of critical failure.

Whenever you make a skill check in Orbis, a double on the roll indicates a critical. If you pass, it’s a critical pass, and if fail, vice versa. So I ended up with a three in one hundred chance of hitting, but a 9 in 100 chance of critically failing. The GM said this was intentional as with two equal opponents, the fight should be a stalemate until a mistake is made or forced. For me though it just meant that I had nothing to do while everyone else was kicking ass. I was tempted to resort to magic again – don’t worry, I’ll get into that in a different review – but luckily one of my compatriots turned up looking like the wild eyed Celt he is, and Marco promptly saw his options were limited and surrendered.

That was the only thing that didn’t go very well based on my experience, but it was situational, and in terms of the game world and the system made perfect sense. To be honest, I had to struggle somewhat to find something negative to say about the combat system. Initiative was worked out quickly, and once everyone had got their heads around the way attack and defenses were calculated, the combat flew through several rounds over several small melees. Other people who were playing less combat efficient characters were able to bring their own abilities into play without any problems, making a big difference to how the encounter played out.

I think everyone managed to bring their personal metier into play at least once too, allowing for the character’s personality traits and background to shape the way the action played out. As well as this having an in game effect, it also made it easier for the players to bring these factors in on a role playing level too, something that doesn’t happen often in combat. The fact that there’s no separate dice rolls required to defend or determine hit location means combat flows quickly and is intuitive, with everyone picking up the essentials in just one round.

Over all, I had a damned fine time and managed to avoid getting hurt at all, even against an opponent with military training. It all felt heroic, as if we were great people doing great deeds against an evil aggressor, but also dangerous. One of my fellow players, who had earlier ripped the ground out from under two people with Earth Power, was unable to stop a teenager with a knife from slashing his chest open.

the next part of this review will either be looking at the general themes of the game and the setting, or if we get enough of it, some thoughts on the various types of magic that are found throughout Uma. Until then, why don’t you head over and check out their Kickstarter. At time of writing they were over half way to hitting their first stretch goal.

Nov 012013
 

“What? Two posts in one day? What madness is this?”, I imagine all of my regular readers exclaiming as they read this post. Well there’s good reason for it. Firstly, I’m on holiday so can blog a bit more until Monday, and secondly, I had such a good time with a certain project, that I have decided to run it again this year, and picked the entire month of November for it to run through.

You see, around about this time last year, I had hit a particular milestone, and decided to celebrate by doing something for anyone who had taken the time to check out my fledgling blog. I offered anyone who posted a comment a free NPC for the game of their choice.

I’m doing that again starting from today, and it’s just as simple. You don’t need to subscribe, like the Facebook page, or even follow me on Twitter. All you need to do is write up a basic idea of what type of NPC you want, and I’ll do the rest. It could be as simple as a Steampunk fighter, as detailed as a young women with engineering fluid pumping through her heart who longs to travel the galaxy while hunting for her long lost brother.

I will take whatever you have to offer and write up a prose description of said character, adding in some plot hooks and a physical description for good measure. I won’t be able to work out stats and what have you, as I cannot promise to be familiar with all systems, but I will do my research and make sure that the character makes sense in whatever game world you have in mind.

Last year I managed to get 33 NPCs done in a month, and later collated them all together and put the final product up on Drivethru for less than a buck. This time I hope to get even more, and to do that I’m going to need lots of help. So please share this post with anyone who might be interested, and if you have a blog, feel free to put the character I make for you up, with a link back here so other people can find it. I will be adding all new NPCs the original document too, so if you’ve already paid for it, you will get a whole bunch more, and if you haven’t then you there’s even more incentive.

So get to it, and let me know what you want.

Nov 012013
 

I have spent the last couple of years genuinely annoyed that I haven’t had the funds to back all of the Kickstarter projects that I wanted to, But today I popped my project backing cherry. If you want to back this campaign, click through here right now, but if you’ve never heard of the game Orbis Terrarum, stick around and I’ll tell you why I’ve pledged some hard earned money so that real hard copies of the game will see the light of day.

**Full disclaimer** I am friends with the guys who have created this game, and they’ve been working on it for at least as long as I have known them off and on. This does not mean that I’m only supporting the game because we’re friends; I have played two full length campaigns within their world as they play tested the game at our weekly gaming society meetings, and I enjoyed every second of it.

As mentioned in a previous couple of posts, I am even playing the game every Tuesday night as of last week, and I’m loving the final revisions that they’ve made. I will be continuing to detail the adventures of character as the weeks progress, but for now lets get to why I love the game so much.

The style of the game, and how it comes to life through the setting was the first thing that grabbed me. As much as I like to play games of high heroic fantasy, with orcs and dragons and what have you, I much prefer a grittier edge to my fantasy worlds. For people who have followed the blog you’ll know that when it comes to fantasy literature my two current favourite writers are Scott Lynch and Joe Abercrombie. Both write about fantasy worlds that have a very human feel to them, with magic being both rare and misunderstood, and the biggest threats often much more human than supernatural. Wars across borders and political maneuvering take more of a central role than world ending beasts and necromantic legions.

The guys who created the game are also fans of this style, but have a much bigger influence on their style, and that’s the work of Fritz Leiber. It runs along similar lines and anyone familiar with his work is highly encouraged to look into this game so that you can enjoy seeing the influence he clearly had.

It’s not just setting though, it’s the system as well that keeps me going back for more. As much as I like a nice simple system, what I really adore is one that has internal consistency. I know it’s a strange thing and might not be what everyone looks for, but there is something marvelous about a game that has the same rules for character generation for player characters as it does for NPCs, so that everyone is on a level playing field, at least to begin with. Add to that the magic, combat and general skill tests all work along the same lines means that there is nothing extra to learn just because you want to use some Geomancy or wield the Heart’s Fire.

I could go on at length here about the various little things within all of the above that I love, but the guys have done a great job of explaining exactly what the game is about on their project page, so if you haven’t been there yet, head over now to read all about it in their own words and then back the hell out of it! At time of writing it has been running for just over 24 hours and is already over half way there. And since the game is already complete, with layout and artwork, anyone who backs it at least the digital level will get their pdf copy as soon as it funds.

Oct 302013
 

This is the first of my weekly series of in game diaries of the character Kantrel di Gregori. These adventures are set in a game world created by a couple of friends of mine, and you can find out more information about the game and its upcoming Kickstarter campaign by heading over and checking out their Facebook page.

These stories of the beginning of my life as a duelist take place when I was but a young man, before I had bothered to better myself mentally and acquired the ability to write, so they are based on little but memories and shared stories. I will however do my best to present them as accurately as possible, with the bare minimum of hyperbole in there, just to sell myself as the hero of these tales.

By now you will know about my family background, and how mush I railed against it. You also know that I was making my way to the Margomarissi  to gain experience and coin so that when I returned, it would either be as a wealthy professional, or in a wooden box. Life does seem to get in the way though, and due to a series of errors of foresight, and not inconsiderable bad luck, I arrived as the campaign season was beginning to wind down. It had been a deathly hot summer that year and it took its toll on the combatants, meaning hostilities ceased earlier than usual, leaving me at a loose end.

I decided to supplement my income for the winter months by taking on work as body guard for anyone who had the coin and wished to slum it in the low towns with all the rest of us scum. I thought this would be dull work as there were few villains willing to take the risk against someone of my not inconsiderable height, but it turned out to be more fun that I ever imagined. She was named Toanna, or at least that’s what she told me. I think she saw in me a lot more than I ever intended, and might very well have worked out something about my breeding long before I had a chance to tell her the truth. I quickly stopped hiding such things from her th0ugh as our friendship grew into something so much more.

I never knew exactly who she was, but since I kept certain details about myself from her, I couldn’t think any less of my little Doe for her secrets. All I knew was that she was Dummoni, and from a family with money. Maybe they had gotten suspicious about our relationship, and only saw me as I meant them to – a hard up sell sword with barely a tin Parvus to my name – and moved her away before she could say goodbye. Maybe she had just grown bored of me and left? At the time though, I was young and cock-sure, and set about finding her. It took a few weeks, as these things will when you haven’t the money to bribe the right people, but eventually I found out that she had made her way to Tuthom-Pothrie.

It was a dangerous place to be with the war just wrapping up for the Autumn and before the yearly peace talks had even begun. I knew I had to find her though, regardless of the danger. My youthful vigour once again coming to the fore, along with the unshakable belief that I was indestructible, as all young men must feel at one time or an other. My luck had turned though as I easily found out about a caravan team leaving Solius-On-the-Mountain two days from then. It was too early for most of the traders to make such a risky venture, but my employer was without options.

Eduardo Skuza was a man with not an ounce of luck left to him. Once an important trader and Pelosian of note, he had lost almost everything in a very short period of time. With caravans lost to bandits, landslides or just plain vanishing, he was desperate and had just one way to return to his former glory. He would take what little he had managed to secrete away from his creditors, bundle it all into a couple of covered wagons, hire anyone foolish enough to join him in this craziness – with a promise of a share in the profit he would make – and get to Tuthom-Pothrie before any of the other traders. This would allow him to sell his wares at the price of his asking, and hopefully allow him to return to his former glory.

I was quick to accept after talking to his caravan master – a tough Pelosian known as Vitus Leale – as I understood that at least half a dozen men would be on the trip to protect his master. The following morning, as I woke with the dawn, eager to be on our way, I was to be disappointed. With the exception Vitus and myself, there was but one other trained warrior. He looked the part to be sure, with more weapons hanging off him that lice off a doxie’s bush, but just the three of us wouldn’t look enough to deter any sizable group of thugs and cut-throats. Still, if we stuck together and fought well, Caderyn – a Dummoni if the warbow slung over his shoulder was any indication – Vitus and myself might just get through it.

The others were a strange mix of of various races, including a man from New Raphelia, and hardly any of them even had a shared a common tongue with which to talk to each other. But we make do with what we have, and barring a two hour wait whilst our illustrious employer got himself bathed and powdered ready for the road, we were off in fairly good time. Sadly, the rain had started coming down hard as we were stood with  little to do but consider our genitals, and that meant I could barely see more than a dozen yards of clear space in front of the lead wagon as we made our way down the narrow cliff side path, and could hear little but the drops falling on my head and ears.

And those bandits I had been so worried about, well they obviously had seen that the weather gave them the advantage and decided to take a shot at getting our cargo away from us.

Oct 282013
 

As I prepare to start a brand new campaign, one of the things on my mind is how one goes about introducing their character to the rest of the group. I’m not concerned with where and how this meeting happens, as it is up to the GM to decide the specifics. For the record though, I really don’t mind the old faithful meeting in a tavern start to a game, there’s a reason that cliche has survived for so long.

What makes a character introduction important is that rather odd thing called a first impression. There are exceptions to this, but in most games, the time that you describe your character to the other players will be the first time you meet them. You will want to include the obvious physical description, but should you add more? It’s obvious that anyone meeting you will be able to roughly guess at your height and, unless you’re wearing heavy clothing, your build. They’ll know the colour and style of your clothing, and if you are carrying an obvious weapon, they should be able to guess at where your expertise lies should things get a little bit hairy.

Some other questions to ask yourself before starting this process is how well known your character is, and to whom. Are they a famed gladiator who has won their freedom? A safe cracker with a reputation only known to others in the trade, or  underworld gang leader who has managed to achieve a certain notoriety apart from with others who are in “the game”. Lets say for now that you’re playing a fantasy game though.

Your race will almost certainly be obvious, but your class or profession may not be, but would you want to hide it? True, being a thief is best not advertised to the general populace, but to fellow adventurers, it could be useful to let them know just how you’ll be earning your keep, and that there may be times when they have to watch your back more that if you were a straight up fighter. A magic user of any stripe should be noticeable in traditional games, but not always, and some times it’s a trick worth keeping up your sleeve.

What about your personality? Do you have a reputation around town for being a braggart or someone who is quick with their fists. Are you a Lothario or Don Juan, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you? Are you fixer in town who is always happy to help if the price is right or a favour can be bartered?  Do you have enemies that are more powerful than you, and have they made it known that they’re willing to pay for your head before you get out of town?

So, now you have a good idea about what you’re going to divulge, but how do you do it? Even a game that takes place regularly around a table, with real dice being rolled and character sheets that are pencil on paper, there may be an element of online interaction that takes place. I have played games that have taken advantage of Obsidian Portal, but even without such a resource there are forums and G+ groups that can be used by players to share extra information or keep a track of In Character diaries and the like.

If you have such a resource, then it should be used. You can write up prose descriptions of your character’s physical description going into the kind of detail that would be problematic to do sat around the table. You can also find an appropriate image to use, or maybe even get an artistic friend to whip something up to share with everyone. The only pitfall to watch out for when introducing your character this way is keeping everything accurate when you then have to repeat stuff when you summarise to the players around the table. Don’t ever think that everyone will have read and digested your online introduction, so be prepared to fill everyone in around the table at the start of the first session.

Other than that, just have fun, and be prepared to have your character totally change by the end of the campaign.