The Villars

There is a 20% chance any castle/settlement encounter on the Nagai Plains* is with a Villar, one of the famous living towers of the Wilds.

* Between the Deus Tines, the Crumbling Hexlands, the Footprints of Ayrvaat and all the ruins, lost cities, brigadoons, soft places, nomad tribes and ideocults out on the Plains I'm surprised there's any room left for the grass.

What does a Villar look like? Well, pretty much this:

That little blob to the bottom right. Your guy.

Most Villars amble along with a slow, smooth elegance (the inhabitants feel less rocking than in a ship) which covers the ground as rapidly as a running horse. Others stand still for years on end, arms crossed and 'chin' rested contemplatively on one immense hand. Yes, Villars are able to climb, albeit slowly and with great care.

These self-willed colossi of unknown origin are perfectly happy to have people move in to their summit towers, it seems to fulfil them in some undisclosed manner. They will happily negotiate to travel to particular locations in return for maintenance work, repairs, beautification, or the eviction of annoying pests (birds, harpies, etc). Villars are rarely if ever hostile (treat all 'hostile' reaction rolls as 'avoid/ignore'), but will occasionally stomp or kick in self-defence. Hoofed by an unhappy castle? Save or die I'd say.

A Villar is largely immune to mind control magic (charm castle? Fek right arf!) and is protected from most physical harm by its massive size and stone-hard skin. It takes immense power to do anything more than mildly inconvenience a Villar. An earthquake spell or horn of blasting might do one some harm, whereas something like move earth or stone to mud might cause them to trip or stumble. Why not try seeing what happens if you summon an earth elemental inside a Villar's leg? That should put a smile on the GM's face...

The walking towers will not approach within 'sight' range (~11 miles) of normal, sedentary castles or cities, which they refer to by an archaic name whose closest modern equivalent is 'sleeping kindred'. They will cheerfully wander through small or impermanent settlements (villages, tent cities, camps, etc.) with all the blithe disregard of a man for an ant's nest. Dungeons? Villars really don't like to talk about dungeons, and will change the subject politely but firmly.

Inhabitants? 50% chance occupied, in which case use the OD&D castle table. If you like a bit of gonzo on ya dinner then you might instead want to roll on BBGLF's Space Fantasy Castle Inhabitant Table. If the Villar is vacant then you can always roll up a plot hook on BTBG Al's Random Ruined Buildings Contents table (coz a 100'+ tall walking castle isn't plot hook enough in itself...).



Pic Source: Wayne Barlowe

[SBVD] Toffs and Toadys

First off, thanks to everyone who posted about, tweeted, commented on and critiqued SBVD. Your time and effort are appreciated.

Now content. Further to the posting of the Small But Vicious Dog draft earlier in the week, here's some stuff that occurred to me in light of feedback.

Social Status

Climbing to the top over a heap of looted bodies doesn’t just advance personal power; it also advances your place in society. Instead of representing vast disparities in clout and authority with higher character levels, here’s a fix inspired by the hilarious and under-rated GURPS Goblins sourcebook.

These rules are entirely optional, and supersede the existing rule that The Gods Hate You! (see Resolution, p7) only where appropriate.

The world of SBVD is hopelessly caste-ridden. The law is entirely weighted in favour of the rich and well bred (which is, of course, entirely as it should be; only a fool writes laws against his own interests), as are tax codes, military obligations and even social mores.  In civilised parts of the world it's still considered perfectly acceptable to roger the serving girls, or to viciously horsewhip insolent underlings (where 'insolent' = 'didn't avert his gaze quickly enough' or 'coughed in my presence').

Social position affects all dice rolls made directly against a particular character. Hit rolls, Ability Score checks, Saving Throws; they’re all affected by the modifier given on the table below.

Your Position	What Your Kind Do For a Living	Mod.
Highborn Titled	toffs, merchant princes, emissaries, etc.	+3
Pillars of Society	Burghers, guild notables, Collegiate wizards, etc.	+2
Respectable Types	Lawyers, physicians, priests, engineers, etc.	+1
People of the Middling Sort	Apothecaries, initiates, roadwardens, etc.	+0
Humble Folk	Scribes, militia, peddlers, bounty hunters, etc.	-2
The Lowly Hoi Polloi	Poor-but-honest farmers, ratcatchers, day labourers, etc.	-4
The Vile Underclass	Thieves, gypsies, corpse pickers and similar.	-6

For example, if Reinhard the Ratcatcher decides to take his ratting shovel to Hans von Schnitzelgruber, Grand Duke of Burgdorf-Hossenpfeffer, he’s laying himself open to a world of hurt. All his rolls against the Duke will be at –4; all the Duke’s rolls against Reinhard will be at +3!

Similar modifiers cancel each other out: the lowly batter one another on roughly even terms, as do the rich and powerful. So if Stinking Aggie the Puregrubber, doyenne of the Vile Underclass, decides to shiv Reinhard for his hard-earned loot she’ll suffer a net –2 to all rolls (6-4 being, yep, 2). Reinhard suffers no penalties beyond those the GM in his mercy and wisdom sees fit to inflict.

Exactly how and why this works is something of a mystery: the general consensus is that it’s rather difficult to beat the crap out of someone while you're malnourished and/or busy doffing your cap. Either way, this rule prevents some dirty oiks with rusty knives and a plan from opportunistically assassinating the Kaiser.

I am Huge of Moustache. You Must Obey!
When a character is able to pull rank by virtue of position he may elect to use social clout in lieu of Fellowship. People might not respect the man, but they do respect the office. Likewise lowly characters attempting to wheedle their betters must use the lower of their social standing or Fellowship in reaction rolls.

Pull Rank	(high status vs. lower)	= best of Fel mod. ~or~ Social Standing mod.
Toadying	(low status vs. higher)	= worst of Fel mod. ~or~ ½ of Social Standing mod.

Your Ways Are Strange And I Mock Them, Puny Weaky Man
Relative status has no effect whatsoever on creatures that don’t respect social niceties. Grumblefimwanger the Giant doesn’t care if you’re a big noise socially: to him you’re just another uppity runt to be trampled. Nor are a gang of rampaging Beastmen likely to be awed into submission by your cultivated cut-glass accent and the exquisitely fashionable cut of your coat. Suchlike non-human yahoos should be taught respect the old fashioned way: cold steel, hot lead and arcane fire.

The Greasy Pole: Gaining and Losing Status
All 1st level characters start out in the hoi polloi (-4), rising in position through graft, backstabbing and low cunning. An adventurer claws his way into the ranks of the Humble Folk (-2) at level 2, and may pass as A Person of the Middling Sort (+0) at level 3. This ‘gentrification’ only applies if the character dresses and comports himself in a befitting manner; if he dresses and acts like a common thug, he will be treated as one.

Adventurers may climb further in status through conspicuous consumption, politic toadying, bribery, largesse and charitable donations, but this is all considered tres nouveau. Real class, like good furniture, is inherited.

Characters of any standing can fall into the Vile Underclass by acting in a despicable manner. The usual routes to infamy are 1) committing detected crime against people who actually matter, or 2) engaging in certain ‘untouchable’ trades. Recovery of lost caste - if possible at all - should be a long and torturous affair.

--end--

Smell Like an Elf? Srsly?

RPG-themed perfumes? Really?

My thoughts on this:

1. In b4 WOTC lean on creator demanding their cut.
2. I thought we'd plumbed the collective depths with the D&D sodas.
3. Needs moar Old Spice parody:

“Hello, ladies. Look at your elf, now back to me. Now back at your elf, now back to me.
[...]
Anything is possible when your elf smells like Stygian Black Lotus and not a soft-handed gurlyman. I’m on a unicorn.”

Dammit capitalism! You used to be cool.

This is the north. We do what we like.

Durham, really ruled by priest-kings

Funny thing. I always intended the Wilds of Nagoh (the overland area around the Vaults) to be a dry and desolate region, such as you might see in spaghetti westerns or in cheesy 80s fantasy films like Conan the Barbarian, Beastmaster, etc. Despite my desired intent it seems to have gradually morphed into a fantasy version of the north of England; specifically the kind of stark, sunless terrain you might see in films like Dragonslayer or Eric the Viking. Oh well. Thur go the proud galleys, reeking temple cities, and dusty Ozymandian statues (at least for now).

Instead of scrub-covered SoCal hills, or the endless high plains and Monument Valleys of John Ford westerns, or even the bizarre fungus forests and amoebic seas of Carcosa, Athanor, Algol, or lost, lamented Thool, I seem to have ended up with a default scenery of wind-whipped moorlands, hills and bogs.

In my pointy little bullet head adventurers traverse a land of skies as grey as Grimnir's eye, rich with layered cloudscapes and long twilights; a land of dour locals tending hardy livestock in the shadow of smoke-blackened peel towers and lowering crag-top fortresses; a land of bright gold and ancient bones turned up by the harrow's iron bite. Brontë country, had the Brontës but followed a vocation as cold-eyed killers.

(note to self: herd of Brontësaurs half-seen in the mists, totally works)

Sure, there are places of breath-taking beauty and prodigious fertility; veritable edens abounding in all good things, and all the more keenly contested for it. But the general impression whenever I think of the Wilds of Nagoh seems to be of a place where the weather and terrain - let alone the inhabitants - will capriciously shift in mood and kill you as soon as look at you.

What can I say? Maybe it's my upbringing in the littoral areas of the North Sea, but I've always had an unconscious prejudice about exposure being a swifter and surer killer than lack of water. It appears that, for all the mythology of dehydration that runs through so much adventure literature, the widow-making nor'easter, the rain-borne blight, and the icy breath of the loping wolf have a stronger hold on my imagination than the fate of Cambyses lost army or the ill-fated Donner expedition.

That might be a suitable post for another day: a quick and simple death by exposure rule, perhaps in the style of James Raggi's embryonic (embyronic?) LotFP Wierd Fantasy RPG. Then again, I imagine adventurers in the wind-swept wilds have sense enough to pack warm clothes. No sense in getting bogged down in minutiae that doesn't advance the game... (Preferences Y/N re. this? Please comment.)

Apropos of nothing, here are some Wilds of Nagoh bullshots for you (please excuse the wonky formatting, blogger isn't playing nice for me):

High Force falls

Some big wall or other, I dunno.

Rocks, a traditional staple food of northerners

Bamburgh Castle

Smailholm Tower (an example of a Peel Tower)

Arkengarthdale, probably the most Tolkienian place name ever!

Write what you know, I suppose. At least I get to use all that juicy Danelaw/Border Reiver local colour. A land infused with the aroma of Mimir's brew, rather than Bacchus'. Pure Tolkien territory, or possibly Gemmell country. Yep. That smacks of high adventure to me.

PS: all this aside, my starting town of Adburg is still a mash-up of Deadwood, Lankhmar and diamond rush-era Kimberley.

Gadget Madness - it is coming

(a 7E player, some years hence)

OK, so first Rob of Bat in the Attic tweaks my Luddite nerve with his wild-eyed prophecies of Kindle gaming. And now Matt Colville of Squaremans is seriously talking about people using the next generation of iGadgets as the medium for enhanced reality RPGs.

That does it! I'm mining the lawn. Has the technophobic wisdom of Hollywood taught us nothing? Ain't no Skynet running my games for me!

*Dons tinfoil hat. Stocks tinned food, ammunition and lead minis*

"An intriguing game. The only way to win is not to play."
-- WOPR, Wargames

edit: And now James Mishler (who knows of what he speaks) predicts the inevitable doom of RPGs in terms more commonly heard from Dmitri Orlov, Jim Kunstler or the guys over at Coming Anarchy than from fun-loving game designers. Like Cold War armageddon docu-dramas Mr Mishler's thoughts are scary, but definitely worth your time.

link to James Mishler's prophecies of doom added 15/07/2009

Star Trek capsule review - "NERD!!!!!"

I have no idea what was going on in this film. There was entirely too much lens flare, jerky camera work, visual effects maelstrom, and extreme close-up idiocy going on for me to make out anything of what was supposed to be happening. You'd think a big budget film like this could have afforded a steadycam and a couple of long lenses...

All bitching about the absurdly bad cinematography aside, I have to say I wasn't greatly impressed by yer man Abram's "Star Trek" reboot. The casting was good-to-excellent (exception: Simon Pegg in full-bore "Did anyone order a large ham?" mode). The acting was...workmanlike. The FX was up to the usual high standard of the Hollywood eye-candy machine. The cameos and in-jokes were acceptable, but uninspired.

However (and this is a but worthy of a place in Monument Valley): the fridge logic of the plot was the worst since "X-Men 3". Hey, wait a second Mr angry vengeful Romulan dude (who I'm sure we already saw in "ST:Nemesis"). You know there's a supernova destined to destroy your homeworld centuries hence; why not use the phlebotium bomb in your ship to become a pre-emptive hero by beating Spock to it - by centuries? No? Ok. I'll leave my brain at the door for this one, shall I?

"Star Trek" works best when it is about the mystery, grandeur and wonder of space travel. This film was a workmanlike rehash of "Wrath of Khan" and little else.

rating: 2 phasers (out of 5)