And that’s a wrap on my first six-Issue, Trade Paperback for this story! Up until this point, I’ve used these interstitial weeks to offer thoughts and reflections on each Issue, discussing where I’m adjusting either the story or game system, plus how I feel about my progress. Today, I’m going to step back and discuss this entire Age of Wonders experiment, beginning with my first inclination to start a new solo roleplaying game as inspiration for fiction. How has it gone, from my perspective? Most importantly, am I signing up for another six Issues of this story, with these characters and this game system, or switching direction?

I’m fundamentally a nerd who loved school, so the way I’ll structure these reflections is to look at each aspect of the Age of Wonders experiment and give myself a letter grade. After that, I’ll look holistically at where I go next. Spoiler alert: I’m keeping some things the same and completely changing others. What comes next will be a relaunch more than a completely new project. More on that topic later.

For now, let’s remind ourselves of my goals for this experiment!

Worldbuilding: C+

From my very first post about this project almost eight months ago, here is how I described the world I wanted to build:

“It’s a post-apocalyptic Earth that has become, with the fall of modern civilization, a feudal, fantasy-like setting where humans face off against monsters. No one remembers the world as it was. Suddenly a set of superpowered people—think comic book powers layered onto fantasy archetypes—emerge. What is the origin of these strange abilities? What do these powerful beings herald for the world? Can they save humanity? You get the idea.”

Recall that one of my insights after six months of Dungeon Crawl Classics is that I spent too little time fleshing out the world before jumping into play. I like discovering the world as I play, but it’s difficult for me to immerse myself in a story if I don’t have a feel for what the setting is in at least some broad brushstrokes. This time around, I wanted to be more intentional, creating a world in which I’d be excited to tell stories. Moreover, I wanted very much for this world to meld my two biggest escapism loves: Sword & Sorcery fantasy and superhero comic books.

If you’re an accomplished worldbuilder, either as a writer or GM, you’d rightfully give me a middling grade here. The world of Age of Wonders is typical fantasy faire without a lot to distinguish it, and while I do a lot of hinting at the changes happening all around our protagonists, it’s difficult to tell if things like a ratfolk community beneath the town, a bejeweled box of demons, or a telepathic black panther are linked to some larger mystery or just fantastical elements of a world with weird stuff in it. I also never really examined the “safe in the city, the wilds are scary” aspects of the setting, since all the danger occurs within the walls of Oakton. As a result, I probably deserve a C at best here.

But dammit, I’m proud of myself for dedicating as much time to thoughtfully scoping out the world of Age of Wonders, even if many of the elements of it haven’t yet reached the fiction, and even if I didn’t really know what questions to answer at first. As someone who has mostly relied on published settings like Dragonlance, Forgotten Realms, Golarion, Skarn, Ravnica, etc. etc. etc., being intentional about building my own setting was a treat. I will do it differently next time, but as a first step, I’m happy enough with my first foray.

Bringing Oakton to Life: C

I’m less pleased with how I brought the city of Oakton to life. I truly enjoyed using Pendulum to come up with Oakton’s history, though I now realize how flatfooted I was starting on that tool without having some broader questions about the world already answered. I was making up things like the Kalee nation, with its immigrants from Mesca, the Stone Isles, and Kaizuka on the fly, which was hugely uncomfortable and meant that I relied heavily on real-world analogues. More egregious, I didn’t bring the rich history developed with Pendulum into much of the fiction, nor did I even remember a lot of it as I was writing. That’s bad form from me.

What I like about Oakton: First, I like that it’s a diverse city—more of a salad than a melting pot—and the dominant culture isn’t based on a white, Western European history. I thought Roland Brown did an amazing job using these influences in his design of the three protagonists, and his depictions of clothing and style really brought the city to life for me. Second, I like the image of the giant tree overhanging the city, clearly signaling the fantastical nature of the setting without overdoing it. Finally, I like that it’s an all-human, low-magic city, which helps underscore the Sword & Sorcery vibe.

Despite those bright spots, I don’t think many readers could really picture Oakton in their mind’s eye like I intended. Were districts like the area around the Keep, the Coins, or the cul-de-sac of Sami Suttar’s home vivid? Was the City Watch interesting? What about the guild structure and how they influenced life in the city? How did the otherworldly, enormous tree affect the culture or beliefs? From my perspective, I fumbled the storytelling on many, many dimensions. Again, I’m giving myself credit for creating my own setting and trying, which is more than I’ve done in the past. And, as I’ll keep saying, I’m learning a ton. But the final output was clumsy at best.

Mashing-up Fantasy & Superheroes: D

By far the place I most let myself down was on the mash-up of sword-and-sorcery fantasy with classic bronze-age comic book superheroes. Pretty much the only way you could say these stories were comic book-y is that they came out in Issues instead of Chapters, and those Issue covers were awesomely illustrated by Roland. After that, meh. We had a stretchy character and… and… well, not much else that sits outside of typical fantasy. Nothing really nods at the comics of my youth. I do think that, if I continue, the story would evolve into more and more obvious superheroes and supervillains; the protagonists would continue to get more powerful and distinct in their appearances with each level-up, and they would distinguish themselves from “ordinary humans” more and more. From the first six months of the story, however, Age of Wonders looks a heck of a lot like simply a fantasy tale, full stop.

All my critiques above sound negative because I want to be honest about where I didn’t live up to my own expectations. That said, I’ve had a ton of fun since early December with this project and have been filled with creative energy the entire time. I’m thrilled that I’m pushing myself away from published settings and material to focus on my own worldbuilding and plotting, and I want to continue my journey that Age of Wonders (and DCC before it) began. Before I get to the next steps, though, let me pause on two aspects of the project that a) I consider successes, yet b) are absolutely changing in the next iteration …

Playing Crusaders: B+

Ever since I first stumbled across the Crusaders rpg, sitting on my shelf unread, I was in love. As a reminder, I had been sifting through games looking for a particular set of features:

• A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
• Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
• Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels but be fun to play at all of them.
• No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

Reading through the Crusaders rulebook, to this day, makes me smile. I love the whole ethos of the game, and the mechanics do a great job of not only simulating comic book action but also addressing the above list of needs. Yes, I homebrewed a metric ton of the rules, but I consider the ability to tweak rules to suit my needs a strength, and doing so was a joy. Even though I still wonder what would have happened if I’d explored the other games on my list: Evolved (now released! it’s amazing!), Destined, Basic Action Super Heroes (my vote for what would have unseated Crusaders back in December), S5E, Pathfinder 2^nd Edition (which, yes, I think can be easily tweaked into a superhero game) and now Outgunned Superheroes, I’m very happy that I jumped in to play Crusaders and launch Age of Wonders. Consider me a convert to the idea that playing fantasy games with a cinematic superhero system is not only easy but freeing. I will absolutely do so again.

So why isn’t this aspect of the project an A, and why would I change systems? As I’ve outlined in these monthly Reflection posts, what I’ve come to realize is that Crusaders is there to showcase superhero combat, period. It’s truly fun for what it does, but I’m already getting a little weary of only rolling dice when it’s time to bash action figures together. I miss mechanics for chases, social situations, and downtime, and I feel like I’m operating with too few handholds when I’m in noncombat scenes. The whole point of pairing solo roleplaying with fiction writing is to allow for randomness and game logic to my stories, after all.

Anyway, thank you Oliver Legrand and the Crusaders rpg. I’ve had a blast!

Characters & Plot: B

One of the things that most frustrated me about my DCC stories were how flat the characters were. As I launched Age of Wonders, I posited that some of the issues driving this flatness were juggling too many PCs and the neutral third-person narrator, both of which are semi-required in writing DCC-inspired fiction because of the characters’ high death toll. As a result, my love of DCC had transitioned to group games (no joke: I will GM a long, multi-year DCC campaign for friends in the foreseeable future), and I fully intended to focus more on character in this next project.

I sort of stumbled into the current format of the blog—with three primary protagonists, each spending a week as the POV-character for the story, followed by a reflections post—but I’m pleased with how it’s working. For me, the characters of Maly, Emah, and Kami are clearer and more distinct than my earlier solo play stories, each with their own personalities, motivations, and goals. I still feel like I should have pushed these differences further in my prose and emphasized their wants and needs more clearly. I’m still a work in progress when it comes to character realization, but again… Age of Wonders was a noticeable improvement from the last round. Even though the characters were done through random rolls, I also like that they’re all women, and each from a different cultural tradition. I don’t know how well I write women, but I certainly enjoy making powerful, kick-ass female characters.

Meanwhile, probably the biggest point of experimentation was how I found my story each Issue. I started from something emergent, reached back into published material for help, then abandoned that material to swing back over to emergent narrative via the Mythic GM Emulator. It’s been a ride. It’s also been hugely instructive. I have something like fifteen unfinished novels on my laptop, all with carefully structured, multi-page, detailed outlines. What I’ve found in longform storytelling is that I enjoy building the plot and characters, but I lose steam when telling them. One of the many reasons I’ve taken a break from novel-writing and shifted to shorter-form stories and serial fiction is to keep myself fresh and excited each time I sit down to write. Mission accomplished!

However, I’m new to serial stories or working without the aid of an outline. I’m also a forever-GM in games like D&D and Pathfinder, prepping endlessly for pre-defined set-pieces and story milestones from published adventures in established settings. Add these two factors together and doing something like Age of Wonders has been a massive stretch for me, and one I’ve really enjoyed. The past two Issues, I found my footing somewhat, delighted by ways the Mythic GM Emulator can help me. In fact, these revelations triggered me consuming several blog posts, forums, and podcasts on solo roleplaying in general, and I see how some of the ways I would alter my approach in my next project. Suffice it to say, I’m both more comfortable and eager to embrace the “let’s find out what happens next” allure of solo play, and the fiction that results from it. I’m even starting to wonder if I might write my next novel (if I ever aspire to do that again) using these methods, knowing that I can go back and edit out extraneous characters or plot points, emphasizing whatever key themes emerge after the fact instead of within an outline.

All of that said, knowing that I’m switching systems means that I’m also switching characters. I’m taking the lessons of worldbuilding from this project, retooling the continent and city of Oakton, and rolling up entirely new characters, in a new game, with only a plot-hook to start. It’s basically an Age of Wonders reboot.

It’s tempting to throw out an overall letter grade for Age of Wonders, but doing so feels significantly more arbitrary than grading each goal. Overall, I’m happy with what I’ve created over… sheesh, eight months now?! Equally, I’m ready to start a new project, incorporating the lessons from this one. Let’s gooooooo!

Tales of Calvenor

Currently, on my laptop there’s the “Age of Wonders” folder in “Games,” where I have all of Roland’s artwork, character sheets, and the various documents I use to run the game. There’s the “Age of Wonders” folder in “Writing,” which has these posts, separated in the game-notes and pure prose versions. As I began to think about my relaunch, I changed the names of both folders to “Age of Wonders v1” and created “Age of Wonders v2” folders. That was already confusing enough, but when I started thinking about how to name each file in the folders, my mind broke. As much as I love the Age of Wonders moniker, I’ve decided that it needs to solely describe this project. And hey, that means that I could always pick this story back up later without creating a bruhaha.

Instead, I’m calling this new project “Tales of Calvenor,” named for the Princehold of Calvenor, the nation in which Oakton sits. Thank you, Age of Wonders. Welcome, Tales of Calvenor! We’ll dive in… next week!

Before turning the proverbial page, a final, special Thank You to Roland for his amazing artwork throughout this project. He’s a joy to work with, and I hope to do so again.

As always, if you’re enjoying these posts or have suggestions, drop me a comment below or feel free to email me at jaycms@yahoo.com.

Next: A new beginning!

Kami Misaki followed the two City Watch guards through the winding stone corridors of the Keep. One of her arms stretched slightly out of proportion to allow her to carry a large wooden trunk tucked into an armpit. As a result, she walked less gracefully than usual. It wasn’t the weight of the trunk—which, she thought idly, would have taken both guards to carry—but the bulk of it under one arm made navigating the narrow Keep hallways awkward. Kami supposed that she could have asked someone to “help” her, but at the moment she was enjoying the stunned stares of everyone they passed. In many ways, her walk from the Golden Heron to the Keep, with her changes on full display, was her unveiling.

Eventually, they reached a heavy wooden door. One of the guards knocked, listened to a muffled reply, and opened the door. The City Watch had to move into the office to allow Kami and her trunk access, and they all did a clumsy dance of polite apologies as she entered and they exited, closing the door behind them.

“Good morning! What’s in the that thing, my dear?” Inspector Estancia Calenta asked with a dimpled grin. The stout woman leaned back in her office chair, the wood creaking, and folded calloused hands on the desk between her and Kami.

“Everything I own,” Kami shrugged, and placed the trunk down in one corner before making her way to a chair. She looked at the Inspector through her wooden half-mask, far less warily than she had during her first visit to this place… when had that been? Had it only been last week?

“Ah,” Calenta’s face took on a motherly concern. “Elyn kicked you out of the Heron, then?”

“It was a mutual agreement,” Kami shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been absent and not helping her, and my presence now, she thought, would make the guests uneasy. Meanwhile, I find myself… focused elsewhere.”

“Focused Elsewhere,” the woman chuckled. “Speaking of which, where are the others?”

“On their way,” Kami said simply. “They should be here soon.”

“Good, good. Well, my dear,” Calenta leaned forward, resting her meaty forearms on the edge of the desk. “No need to wait for them to get started. So,” her eyes glittered. “Where is the box?”

Kami leaned back, folding her hands in her lap. “Emah says it’s called the Raft of the Nine Gates, actually. She has it, hidden and locked away. She says that there are those at the university who she’d like to study it, but that it’s not something anyone else can ever touch. It’s too dangerous, we all agree.”

“You believe her story? About the vision she had? Deals with demons?” Calenta looked skeptical, cocking an eyebrow.

Kami sighed, the first breath she’d taken since entering the Keep, she realized. “Given everything that’s been happening across the city and everything that happened in that basement, I don’t see any reason to question Emah’s account. To me and Maly, she touched the hand, and then…” Kami’s eyes unfocused as she recalled the scene, still so vivid in her mind. She frowned. “Well. When it was done, the demons vanished in a flash of golden light and the Raft was closed at Emah’s feet. She saved us all.”

“Poor, poor dear,” Calenta clucked her tongue. “How is she?”

“Fine, actually. She says the poison from the spined demon would have killed her before we ever left the basement, but the power that the Raft imbued in her must have cleansed it. I’ve only known her a week, mind you, but I’ve never seen her better. Despite the… lack of hand and sword.”

“You said her hand is in the box. The, er… Raft. You never found the sword?”

Kami pursed her lips and shook her head. “Another reason to believe her. Like so much happening these days, it all feels impossible.”

The inspector shook her head in disbelief. “It’s all happened so fast, ah? So many changes we must all accept. I heard someone in the market call it the Age of Wonders. It fits, no?”

“It does,” Kami gave a brief nod. “I like that, actually.”

“And look at you! Any changes besides the hair that you’ve noticed?”

Kami pulled a lock of her straight hair into her view. When the golden light from the Raft faded in the basement, it had left her hair bright green, the color of springtime leaves. There were other, subtler changes as well, but there was no hiding the hair. Though she felt less antagonistic toward Inspector Calenta than before, she still didn’t trust the woman. So, Kami said only, “Just the hair.”

“What do you think it means?” the woman asked, but it was a rhetorical question. Kami didn’t answer, and the inspector didn’t wait for her to do so. Instead, after a heartbeat, Calenta said, “And the ratfolk?”

Kami crossed her arms over her chest. “Either Emah saved them as well—though they’ll never know it—or the priest’s failure with the Raft focused the demons solely on them. Either way, I suspect we won’t hear from them again. Even if they survived, it was the priest, Maly says, that was stirring them up against Oakton. Now that she and her mad quest for the Raft are dead, well… I don’t believe they want to have anything more to do with us than we with them.”

“Still,” Calenta scowled. “The idea of underground tunnels, accessing wherever they like…”

“We’re not exterminators,” Kami said forcefully. “We’re here to protect, not kill.”

The inspector raised her meaty palms in defense. “Okay, okay! I’ll have someone else look into it, ah? You don’t have to think of them anymore. Truly, my dear, I’m just glad that you’ve decided to formalize our relationship. We need you.”

Before Kami could respond, there was a knock on the door. Inspector Calenta yelled to enter, and one of the same City Watch guards who’d led Kami here opened the door. He stepped aside quickly, and Maly, Destiny, and Emah flowed inside, one by one.

Maly and Destiny looked much the same, despite the golden flash of the Raft. She was still a lithe, pale Stone Islander with freckled cheeks and tattooed arms, her blonde hair cut short. He was still an enormous, deadly predator, a black cat whose shoulders reached Maly’s thighs, all grace and power. Destiny had, apparently, abruptly awoken soon after the situation in the basement had resolved, which only deepened the mystery of the Raft’s power and the cat’s origins.

The girl smiled at Kami and slid into the chair next to her. Destiny prowled, each step heavy and intentional, to the window and lay down beneath it. His yellow eyes watched Inspector Calenta intently.

Emah, of course, was not the same. She was still a powerfully built Kalee woman, with chocolate skin and eyes, her coily hair pulled back from a high forehead. She still wore a leather breastplate, tasseled skirt, and heavy boots. Yet Emah wore only one green glove, on her left hand. The other arm ended in a stump at the wrist, bandaged and dark with blood. Her ancestral sword no longer hung at her waist.

Despite her losses, Emah carried herself confidently, chin held high and broad shoulders back as she entered. She gave Inspector Calenta a nod, then smiled warmly at Kami. Instead of taking the third chair, she stood between Kami and Maly, feet set wide.

“You two have caught up?” Emah asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Not fully, but enough, dear. Thank you for asking,” Inspector Calenta flashed her dimples. Then her face took on that same look of maternal concern. “How are you, Emah?”

The warrior didn’t answer for a moment, as if unsure how to do so. Finally, she shrugged and said, “Well enough, I suppose. It’s been quite a week.”

Maly snorted and Calenta barked a sharp laugh. Kami kept her face impassive—she wasn’t sure she could be moved to genuine laughter and envied those whose emotions came freely—but inside she admired Emah’s acceptance of her choice within the Raft, and all it cost her. Would she have been able to make the same decision, Kami wondered, had it been her who’d touched the hand? And what could she have possibly offered that was as precious to her as Emah’s swordsmanship? They were all lucky it had been noble Emah Elmhill who’d negotiated for the city’s safety with the spirit of Salo Jaena.

In her reverie, she realized she had tuned out the conversation within the room. She blinked and focused on the present.

“Well, that’s certainly more than we’re making from the Adventurer’s Guild,” Maly said somewhat sourly. “But not a lot more.”

“I assure you, it’s more than most in the City Watch make, and all we can afford, ah?” Calenta said in response.

“The wages are fine,” Emah said, closing the topic. “But what about accommodation?”

“Ah, well… if the memories are not spoiled for you, I thought perhaps Sami Suttar’s place? He had no family, so the property is the city’s to claim.”

Kami looked from Emah to Maly and back. Maly looked surprised, Emah pleased. Kami supposed her own masked face was unreadable, though she tried to provide a subtle nod. The three of them seemed to reach silent agreement and turned back to the inspector.

“Fine,” Emah said.

“Good, good,” Calenta clapped her hands together. “I’ll have it all written into a new contract, and I’ll speak to the Adventurer’s Guild so no one is surprised. I must say, dearies, that I’m relieved to have you on our side, ah?”

“One final item,” Kami said. Three human faces and a feline one turned to her, startled.

“Yes, dear?” Calenta asked, studying her cautiously.

“We have right of refusal on what missions you offer. I won’t trade one brothel for another. You tell us why you need us, and we decide whether we will help or not. And I want that written into the contracts.” Kami said the words smoothly and clearly, without inflection. She studied the inspector as carefully as she’d just been inspected. The two met eyes and an uncomfortable silence reigned for several heartbeats.

“Fine, my dear. Just fine,” the woman smiled disarmingly. “But it means I’ll change the wages to be bounty-based instead of weekly wages. We won’t pay you to do nothing for Oakton.”

“Kami…” Emah said warily.

“Fine,” Kami nodded. She looked at Emah and smiled. “I’m confident, Ms. Elmhill, that we will have plenty to do based on recent events.”

“It’s a risk,” the other woman whispered. “We do need money.”

“We do,” Kami agreed. “Though I have some thoughts about that as well.” Her eyes drifted to Maly, sitting in the chair next to her.

The young woman widened her eyes, realizing suddenly that both Kami and Emah were staring at her. “Wait, what? Why are you looking at me?”

“Say,” Calenta added smoothy, tapping on her desk with a finger. She flicked her attention to Kami. “What happened to the East Bay Dragons boy you all captured? From your account, I thought he was wounded and unconscious when you all went down to the basement?”

“He was,” Kami added, just as smoothly. Her face remained neutral. “Whoever he was, he must have been deceiving us about the extent of his injuries. When we went upstairs, Destiny was awake, and the man was gone. The panther said he had not seen him.” She shrugged.

The inspector clucked her tongue and turned to Emah. “Didn’t you run him through with your sword? How could he have run away so soon after your battle?”

Kami waited, hopeful. Emah met Calenta’s gaze and said simply, “I did and don’t know, ma’am. Another mystery from the week, I suppose.”

The woman sighed heavily and pushed herself to stand with a groan. “Well, alright. We’ll look into that, too, then. I will get the contracts to you, ah? For now, get some rest in your new home. We’ll talk soon.”

Kami and Maly stood, and the panther climbed slowly to its feet to join them. Kami stretched her arm down to collect her unwieldy trunk.

“Hey,” Maly said as they began exiting. “What are we calling this group of ours? Do we have an official name?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, dear, but you’re right. Do you have an idea?” Calenta smiled and sat back at her desk.

“The Wonder Force!” Maly said brightly.

“Not the Wonder Force,” Emah grunted with a scowl, almost as soon as she’d said it.

“Come on, Emah! What don’t you like about—”

“Absolutely no,” Emah growled dangerously.

“Well, let’s have a think about it, ah?” Calenta nodded. “Rest up, dearies. I’m sure we’ll talk sooner than later.”

The door closed. Kami strode without speaking down the hallway, trunk tucked beneath one arm. Behind her Emah and Maly continued to bicker about their group’s name. Destiny stalked at Maly’s heels, yellow eyes scanning and startling anyone they passed.

When they exited the Keep, the great tree stretching above them, cracks of blue sky visible beyond the branches. Kami couldn’t help but feel the air crackling with something monumental. People all around them pointed and stared, whispering in awe.

Kami allowed herself a small grin behind her mask, her feet angling towards their new home.

Next: Reflections on Issues 1 through 6!