Councilwoman Leda Astford stared through the open door in wonder. She could feel the other Graymoor residents pressed beside and behind her in the cramped corridor, but her full attention was fixed ahead.

Old Bert Teahill had claimed that beyond the magical portal lay “jewels and fine steel spears.” There were crystals on the now-open door, dotting the wooden surface in star-like patterns, which she supposed could be mistaken for jewels. And spears?

Yes, there were certainly spears.

In a rectangular room, perhaps ten feet from the open doorway, straight ahead, was another stout, wooden door banded in iron, no crystals upon its surface. Four armored iron statues, two on each side, flanked that door. Each statue depicted a person–human men and women, judging by the physiques, ears, and roughly carved faces–in enameled armor holding a black spear, arm cocked back as if ready to throw. All four deadly spear-tips aimed directly at the open doorway in which Leda stood.

It was Bern Erswood, the herbalist, who pulled her aside forcefully.

“Leda! If those things loose those spears, you’re as dead as Mythey, that’s for sure,” he whispered fiercely, admonishing.

“If it were a trap,” sniffed Egerth Mayhurst, the unpleasant jeweler, panting, flattened himself on the opposite side of the hallway as Leda and Bern. His bald pate gleamed with sweat in the pale blue light. “It would have triggered, yes? Perhaps it was meant for someone who forced the door open before it was unlocked.”

“Well then, by alla’ means,” the dwarf, Umur Pearlhammer, grumbled from behind them. “Go on in and try the next door, yeah?”

“Absolutely not!” Egert blanched.

“I’ll- I’ll do it,” stammered Little Gyles, Bert’s grandson. He planted his pitchfork and pushed forward.

“No, son,” Umur and Bern said almost simultaneously, then chuckled at one another.

“Bravest one here is the wee lad,” Umur shook his head. “Step aside, step aside. We’re here. Might as well see what’s behind that next door since we’ve come alla’ this way.”

“I’ll join you, Master Pearlhammer,” Bern smiled, and the two men stepped into the room, shoulder to shoulder. Undaunted, Little Gyles was right on their heels.

Nothing happened.

Leda exhaled loudly at the same time as several others, not realizing she had been holding her breath.

The adventure text says that the statues “wait for an opportune moment, then suddenly hurl their spears at the characters.” Since I’m controlling the actions of both the traps and the PCs, it seems unfair to choose when that moment occurs. Instead, I’ll leave it up to chance.

I’ll roll a d4 to see how many cohorts of three individuals enter the room before the spears fly. I already have their marching order down on a piece of paper.

I roll a 1. Dang. I like all three of those characters in the lead!

Each statue attacks with a +2 against the PC’s Armor Class of 10 (12 for Bern, who is wearing Mythey’s leather armor), but poor Gyles is in the doorway, so any that target him get a whopping +4. They do 1d8 damage each. I’ll say one spear flies at each PCs, and two at Gyles unless the first one kills him. If so, the fourth spear will fly through the doorway at either Leda or Egerth at a +2 (what? You thought the point-of-view character Leda had plot armor? The dice decide the story, and everyone here is as fragile as a… well, as a villager thrown into a magical, alien portal.). Here goes…

The first spear flies at Umur: (19+2) 21, and hits for 2 damage. Umur has 3 hp… whew!

The next at Bern: (6+2) 8, sails wide of Bern. Whew again!

Now at Gyles: (8+4) 12, which hits for 3 damage. The boy only has 1 hp, sadly. Brutal.

That means the fourth spear targets either Leda (1-3 on a d6) or Egerth (4-6): A 4 is Egerth. It rolls a (7+2) 9 and barely misses.

Suddenly, with a coordinated, metallic THUNK! and a quick whirring noise, the four statues released their spears in unison. Before Leda and the others could even gasp, one had buried itself in Umur’s broad shoulder, another had clattered against the wall behind Bern, and a third had sailed through the doorway, narrowly missing Egerth’s leg and skittering across the stone floor amidst the others. The dwarf cried out in pain and stagged just as the jeweler clawed at the wall backwards, into the pressed crowd.

“No!” Bern yelled, much to Leda’s confusion. And then Little Gyles Teahill, the boy with the strength of a grown man, asked specifically to be there by his grandfather, fell back into her arms. A spear shaft protruded from the middle of his chest.

Gyles didn’t mutter last words or even make a single sound. The sleek, black spear must have killed him instantly. A bright bloom of red blossomed on the front of his homespun shirt, his eyes wide, surprised, and glassy. The pitchfork the boy had been clutching clattered to the floor.

For a long while, there was screaming, crying, consoling, and grief. Leda herself carried Gyles’ body to the end of the corridor and outside, placing him gently on the open ground in the nighttime air. She closed his eyes and said a prayer that Justicia, goddess of justice and mercy, watch over him. She had promised Bert that she would keep the boy safe and had utterly failed. The weight of that failure threatened to crush her into a ball on the cold dirt. Instead, she stood and planted fists on hips, staring at Little Gyles to memorize his every feature. Something cold and hard formed along her spine, keeping the tears at bay.

Bern, meanwhile, tried his best to tend to Umur’s shoulder wound, and managed at least to get the bleeding staunched. The dwarf looked pale and weak now, his voice strained. The others tried to convince the dwarf to turn back and head back to Graymoor, but he set his jaw stubbornly.

“You say me, but we should alla’ go back,” he grumbled. “We’ve found only death here.”

“We keep on,” Leda said decisively, joining them after her time outside. “They’ve taken Little Gyles, these bastards. We go in, we take what we can, and we ensure his death was not in vain.”

The group quickly realized that the black, sleek spears were better weapons than any of them wielded. Bern and Egerth were the first to take theirs, and after some discussion the Haffoot siblings, Ethys and Giliam, gripped the other two. The halfling pair, who made their living trading tea leaves in a small boat up and down the Teawood River, looked particularly small carrying the long, wicked weapons. When offered one, Finasaer Doladris explained that, as an elf, he could not touch the iron of the spears for long, but he did pick up Little Gyles’ wood-shafted pitchfork. Even the scholar, it seemed, had recognized the danger of their situation.

It was Erin Wywood, the sharp-witted minstrel and councilman’s granddaughter, who recognized that the armor on each statue was not part of the sculptures and could be removed. It took what felt like ages, but together they puzzled out how to unstrap the pieces from the unmoving iron and help others don them. Umur looked the most natural in the black metal, even though his dwarven physique forced him to exclude some of the original pieces. Hilda Breadon, the stocky baker, followed Umur’s lead and made hers fit in much the same way. Erin donned a full, scaled suit, which the others thought only fair since she had discovered it in the first place. And, thanks to the particular urging of Umur and Bern, Leda took the final suit of armor herself. She was unaccustomed to wearing anything but simple cloth, though she found the weight somehow comforting.

When everything was sorted, only the haberdasher Veric Cayfield found himself armor- and weapon-less. He smiled brightly and said that he didn’t mind… it was fun to help get the others fitted into armor, and he would feel ridiculous holding a spear.

“I have my scissors if it comes to fighting,” the halfling announced with cheer, patting a pouch at his hip. “But I don’t think it will. This strange place beyond the portal is full of traps, not monsters. What do you think the traps are protecting, do you figure?”

“And who was the principal architect of this demesne?” Finasaer wondered aloud, tapping his lip. “Fascinating.”

At that, the group grew quiet and looked warily at the closed, iron-banded door. After the experience of the last two doors and the talk of traps and mysterious builders, no one seemed especially eager to go first.

Filled with visions of Little Gyles’ glassy-eyed stare, Leda sighed and told the others to stand aside. “From now on, I’ll go first,” she announced. “Everyone keep sharp and have your eyes open. If you see something, speak up.” The others murmured assent, even bitter-faced Egerth. The smell of sour, nervous sweat filled the room. Leda’s gauntleted hand reached out to the door, she exhaled sharply, and tried the latch.

It clicked and the door swung open. Leda winced, expecting pain. Nothing happened.

Beyond the door was a large, square room with marble flooring and polished walls. At the far end of the space was a towering granite statue of a man. It was a detailed work of artistry Leda could hardly fathom, and must have been thirty feet tall. The statue’s eyes looked somehow intelligent, and his barrel-chested body was carved to show him wearing animal hides and necklaces from which dangled numerous amulets and charms. A heavy, stone sword was carved to hang at the man’s hip. Leda thought he looked both like a barbarian warrior and shaman, though from where or when she could not begin to guess.

One arm of the statue was outstretched, its index finger pointed accusingly at the doorway in which Leda stood. After the room with the spear-throwing statues, it was a nerve-wracking pose. She quickly stepped into the spacious room and aside.

“Come on,” she said to the others. “There are more doors here.”

Indeed, the square room had three additional doors, all identical to the one she’d just opened, at each wall’s midpoint. Four sides, four doors, one enormous statue. Otherwise, the room was empty.

Time to see if anyone notices some other features of the room with an Intelligence check, at DC 12. I’ll give the three high-Int PCs and Leda, as the first one in, a chance.

Erin for once misses an Intelligence check at (2+1) 3. Ethys also rolls a (2+1) 3. Leda rolls a (12-1) 11. Thankfully Umur rolls a (15+1) 16, which makes sense since he’s the stonemason of the town.

As everyone slowly filed in, boots echoing on the marble floor, Umur peered up and around, studying the statue and room’s construction.

“Careful,” he growled. “See those scorch marks on the floor and walls? And look here, this statue weighs tons but there’s grease here on the base where it meets the foundation.”

“What does that mean, master stonemason?” Bern asked nervously.

“It means, methinks, that the statue rotates and shoots fire, is my guess,” he rubbed thick fingers in his beard, frowning. “Though the masonry involved in such a thing, well… it boggles the mind.”

“Traps, not monsters,” Veric said from the back of the group.

At that, everyone froze and looked wide-eyed up at the enormous barbarian shaman, its finger outstretched accusingly at the empty, open doorway.

“What– what do you think activates it?” Erin Wywood whispered. Still no one moved.

Umur continued rubbing at his beard, eyes searching. “Could be pressure plates on the floor, s’pose, but I donna’ see any. Could be openin’ the doors, but it didn’t scorch us when we came in, did it?”

“Eyes open, everyone,” Leda tried to keep her voice from trembling as she called out. This enameled black armor would not help her at all when engulfed in flame. “And let’s not clump together.”

For the next several minutes, the ten Graymoor residents carefully, carefully spread out and searched the room. Other than discovering more evidence of fire to support Umur’s theory, they found nothing.

“Maybe… it’s broken?” Giliam Haffoot, the brother, asked, rubbing sweat from his brow with a sleeve. It was well known that his sister Ethys was the brains of their boating operation and he was there for the labor. “Been here for years, innit?”

“We have no idea how long,” Bern mused. “We could be standing in another plane of existence, outside of time, even on the surface of that distant Empty Star. That statue could be of the god who created everything, ever, all the stars and worlds. Who knows? This place is a wonder.”

“A miracle,” Erin the minstrel breathed, eyes wide.

“Let’s assume,” Umur murmured through teeth still clenched in pain. “That it will roast anyone who tries to open a door. What do we do?”

They all contemplated.

“We could open all three doors at the same time,” Ethys Haffoot tried, planting the tall spear on the stone to lean on it. “Maybe the statue will get confused, then.”

“Or only cooks one of you, at the least, while the others escape,” Egerth mused. Leda frowned that he said “you” and not “us.”

“And then what? The rest of us run to a door where it ain’t pointin’?” Giliam asked, his scrubby face scrunched in thought. “Sort of a shit plan, though, innit?”

“Do you have a better one, Master Haffoot?” Bern asked. The halfling seemed surprised to be asked and looked absolutely dumbfounded how to respond. Neither he nor the others could come up with an alternate suggestion on how to proceed.

With much apprehension, then, they assembled themselves. Leda would open the western door (none of them knew if it were truly west, but it helped to have a description, so they pretended that the door from which they’d come was south), Umur the northern one, and Giliam surprisingly volunteered for the eastern door. The others of them stood near one of the doors, Bern and Finasaer with Leda, Erin and Hilda with Umur, and finally Egerth and the two other halflings joining Giliam.

“Ready?” Leda called out, placing her hand on the handle of the western door. As she did so, a whirring noise began building within the room. “Now!”

I tried to puzzle out who would go with whom here. Bern the herbalist has been protective of Leda, and the elf Finasaer has seemed to gravitate to her side as well. Erin, one of the smartest of the group, will follow one of the other smarties in Umur, and Hilda is a fellow craftsperson (as much as bakers and stonemasons are similar) so would feel some kinship with the dwarf. Ethys would clearly stick near her brother, and it makes sense that Veric would want to be near the other halflings. Egerth, meanwhile, calculates that a group of four means he is less likely to be targeted by the statue than if he were in a group of three.

Egerth’s logic, it turns out, dooms his group. The statue targets the largest group first, and whoever is opening the door. It shoots out a gout of flame, and rolls a whopping (19+6) 25, for 5 damage. Giliam only has 2 hp, so he’s dead.

Into combat initiative we go… The PCs are lucky and most rolled higher than the barbarian-shaman statue.

In surprising synchronicity, the three figures at the door clasped the latches and opened their respective doors. As Umur had predicted, the immense stone figure rotated on its base with a sound of grinding rock so deep that they all felt it in their bellies more than heard it. Ethys and Veric shouted warnings, but too late. A fountain of fire erupted from the statue’s fingertip, engulfing poor Giliam Haffoot. The man shrieked and rolled on the stone as he died.

Veric, the haberdasher with neither weapon nor armor, did not pause. Quicker than Leda knew the man could move, he sprinted on short legs away from the flaming Giliam and towards Umur, diving through the open northern door. Umur, wide-eyed, followed the halfling, with Hilda right on his heels.

“In! In!” Bern shouted over the screams, and he pushed himself and Leda through the western doorway.

Egerth Mayhust, Graymoor’s jeweler, stumbled past the burning, shrieking Giliam Haffoot and into the eastern opening. Then, much to Ethys Haffoot’s utter astonishment, slammed the door closed behind him, right in her face.

There are now three villagers remaining when it is the statue’s turn: Finasaer the elf at the west, Erin Wywood the minstrel at the north, and Ethys Haffoot (facing a closed door) to the east. Since there is no group larger than the rest, we’ll roll randomly who the statue targets next. I’ll roll a d6 (1-2, 3-4, 5-6) and get a 2.

The statue rolls a (14+6) 20, which easily hits the elf. He takes 3 fire damage, leaving him with 1 hp. He is also burning, though, and will take an additional 1d6 of damage, killing him, unless he can succeed at a DC10 Reflex save. I’ll roll that now: Finasaer gets a 6.

The room seemed to shudder as the thirty-foot stone figure pivoted in its base, finger swiveling to the sage Finasaer Doladris, the only elf in Graymoor’s memory.

“No, wait!” he held up his hands, dropping Little Gyles’ pitchfork, before the WHOOSH! of fire jetted from the fingertip to surround him.

Through the open doorway, Leda could see the elf rolling around in his once-sparkling robes, frantically trying to extinguish the flames. Yet within moments he was nothing more than a burning pile, like Giliam Haffoot across the room.

A Haffoot family trait, the siblings had long told the Graymoor residents, was a single club foot. Both Giliam and Ethys had one, lending credence to the claim. Across the wide room, Leda and Ethys locked eyes and the councilwoman could almost feel her mind working out whether she could, on one lame foot, make the distance between them. The quick-witted halfling apparently decided she couldn’t, and ran in a galloping trot to the north using the spear as a makeshift crutch, out of Leda’s view.

“Miss Astford!” a small voice called out clearly from the direction in which Ethys had run. It was Veric, the haberdasher.

“Yes! I’m here! Me and Bern!”

“Quick! Run to us! So we’re not split!”

She turned to Bern at her side and the two shared a quick nod. As one they threw themselves out, leaping over the charred, flaming lump of Finasaer and towards the north. The room shuddered and rumbled as the statue began tracking their movement. She did not even pause to take in the surroundings behind the western door before exiting it.

Damn this armor! Leda thought wildly. Bern, in Mythey’s leathers, sprinted past her, around the statue’s base and into the northern opening. Leda stumbled, feeling clumsy with the weight of the enameled, black metal strapped everywhere. Ahead she could see a group of huddled faces, urging her on. Veric and Umur and Erin, all reaching out to her from the doorway as she panted towards them, each step heavy.

The scale mail that Leda (and Umur, Erin, and Hilda) is wearing decreases her movement by 5’ per round. So while Bern can dash from the eastern hallway to the northern in one turn, Leda cannot. She gets right to the north entrance, and the statue gets to make a strike against her. The only hope is that Leda’s AC is higher than everyone else’s, +4 for the armor and +2 for her high Agility. So her AC is 16, meaning the statue has just over a 50% chance of hitting. Oh boy.

The statue rolls a (13+6) 19, hitting. I literally winced when I rolled the damage, but it’s only 2! That’s half of Leda’s hit points, and now she needs to pass a DC 10 Reflex save. Now, scale mail also provides a “Check Penalty” for a variety of activities involving dexterity. I can’t find in the rulebook if this pertains to Reflex saves, though. A quick web search tells me that, while slightly disputed, no. Leda’s +2 Reflex save bonus is intact. So she has to only roll an 8 or better…

She rolls a 12. Yes! Whew.

Joseph Goodman, author of Dungeon Crawl Classics and the adventure The Portal Under the Stars has said that the statue room is incredibly deadly, able to wipe out whole parties of Level-0 characters if they aren’t careful. He’s not kidding.

“Come on!” Umur growled from mere feet away. “Run, lass!”

The others dove for cover as the sound of the flames fountained from behind her. Her back and legs seared with heat and she jumped with her last bit of strength towards the now-empty doorway. Leda landed painfully, with a clatter of armor, and suddenly multiple hands were all over her, rolling her and helping to extinguish the flames. Someone slammed the door shut, leaving only the sound of several people panting and the smell of burnt hair hanging in the air.

For several moments, Leda gasped for breath and lay her cheek on the stone floor beneath her. Her father’s longsword, never used once in her life, jammed painfully beneath her hip. Indeed, everything hurt, especially her back and legs. But she was alive, thank the gods. She squeezed both eyes shut and thought of Little Gyles.

Eventually, she rolled to her knees and, grimacing, stood. Umur sat gasping, his back against the door. She could see the dwarf’s bandaged shoulder through the gaps in his armor and it was soaked in fresh blood. Bern, Erin, Hilda, Ethys, and Veric all sat or stood nearby, looking stunned and out of breath. Seven of them, where they had once been twelve.

It was only in glancing at her companions that she first became aware of the shimmering, ethereal light in the room. She gasped as she looked beyond their group.

“What– what is this place?” she whispered.

Portal Under the Stars, Chapter 3

Portal Under the Stars, Chapter 1

On June 7, 2024July 15, 2024 By MagicJMSIn Dungeon Crawl Classics, Fantasy Fiction, Tabletop Roleplaying6 Comments

Introduction: Portal Under the Stars Playthrough

Bert Teahill lay under a pile of threadbare blankets, shivering and groaning. He was little more than sun-shriveled skin stretched over bones, his gray hair plastered to his skull with sweat. The cramped room–barely large enough for the small bed, a footlocker, and five figures crowding round–smelled strongly of urine and death.

The old man coughed weakly. “Is everyone here then?” he asked in a voice dry as summer leaves.

“We’re all here, Bert,” sniffed Councilman Wywood, nodding. He glanced at the other three town council members, each doing their best to not be there. Wywood was the oldest and most tenured council member and often spoke first. Councilmen Wayford and Seford weren’t much younger but still deferred to him. Indeed, the three men had held their positions so long that they seemed to share more unsaid with their glances than spoken aloud. For example, right then Seford, small eyes in a round face with hanging jowls, looked to Wywood imploringly as if to say When we can leave and get back to our brandy?

The fourth council member, Councilwoman Leda Astford, was the newest member and everything the others were not. Young, brave, and earnest, she interrupted the silent glances from the other three.

“What is it you wanted to tell us, Bert? We’ve assembled the full town council and your grandson, just as you asked,” she said, laying a hand on his shoulder. Councilman Wywood, for his part, pursed his lips and sniffed derisively. The other two old men nodded at his annoyance, silently agreeing Who does she think she is, taking charge?

Bert Teahill whimpered and stirred feebly beneath his covers. For a moment he stilled, and the room grew silent. Then the old man sucked in a breath and opened his eyes wide, searching around the room. He coughed.

“Good, good. Listen to me, all of you. The star… the stars have come back as when I was a boy.”

“What are you saying, Bert?” Wywood grumbled. The man’s wrinkled face shone with sweat. “What is this about stars?”

“Let him speak, please,” Leda intoned. The other three council members traded offended, frowning glances.

“When I was a boy,” Bert continued, wheezing. “Must be fifty winters since. I used to watch the stars, notice how they formed pictures in the sky. Back then there was a particular star. Called it the Empty Star, a blue, twinkling thing, all on its own with no others around it. As it rose directly overhead, a… a door opened. Shimmering blue, at the old stone mound. Swear to all the gods I saw it! A bright blue door, and on the other side jewels and fine steel spears aplenty.”

“What is he suggesting?” Councilman Wayford scoffed at his brethren. He was stooped with age, and his voice was high and wheedling, as if he were always whining. “We’re all here for a child’s fable?”

“A portal!” Bert said, his voice suddenly strong. A liver-spotted hand emerged from the blankets and gripped Leda’s wrist. He looked up at her imploringly. “All my life I held this secret, wishing I’d gone in. Could have changed my fortune, maybe my whole family’s fortunes. Maybe the whole town’s! And every night since I’ve watched the stars. The pictures in the sky all changed. The Empty Star never came back.

“But now it’s all back, you hear me? The Empty Star is rising! Tomorrow night, sure as my grave! I feel it in my very soul, you hear me? Tomorrow night is the night! Someone has to go to the old stone mound to see the portal. Go in, this time. Change Graymoor’s fortunes! There’s treasure there, and glory. Don’t let it pass by this time, please. Don’t live a life of regret like an old, dying farmer. Please. Please…” And just as suddenly as his old, vital self had returned, Bert Teahill deflated and lay panting.

The three aged councilmen said nothing, eyes darting furtively between them in silent discussion. Leda Astford, meanwhile, patted the farmer’s shoulder gently.

“Okay, Bert,” she said. “We hear you. We’ll go to the old stone mound tomorrow night. If there’s a portal, we’ll get those jewels and spears.”

“Take– take Gyles,” Bert whispered and almost imperceptibly nodded.

With a rustle of cloth and creaking floorboards, the four town council members turned to look at the boy. Little Gyles Teahill was Bert’s grandson, who townsfolk said was strong as a man at ten years of age. He had taken over running the Teahill farm with his father’s recent leg injury. Little Gyles looked up at them all with a mix of wide-eyed surprise from the attention and an iron-like determination.

Councilman Wywood snorted derisively and turned his back on the boy. Wayford and Seford followed suit. The three shuffled out of the room, muttering about “waste of time” and “fool’s errand” and “preposterous” and “let’s go have some brandy.”

Leda Astford, meanwhile, met the boy’s eyes. She smiled, conjuring a confused grin from the boy. As the others left, Leda gently squeezed Bert’s thin shoulder and nodded. “I’ll go myself tomorrow night, Bert. And I’ll take Little Gyles and keep him safe, don’t you worry. We’ll see this door of yours. And if it’s there, well, sure as anything we’ll go in.”

Bert Teahill lay still beneath his blankets, eyes closed and barely breathing. Had the man heard her words?

They would never know.

Councilwoman Leda Astford’s breath steamed in the cold night air. Spring had come to Graymoor, but Winter still had its grip on the dark hours. She shivered beneath her traveling cloak, pulling it tighter. She was a healthy woman in the prime of her life but had always suffered in the cold. Her hands and feet especially.

She looked around. A rumor as big as this one had spread, and a large pack volunteered to wander into the darkness in search of Old Bert Teahill’s flight of fancy. Puffs of breath dotted the shadows as the dozen of them waited. It was a clear night and the path to the old stone mound was well-known, so none had felt the need to light a torch.

“How long are we going to stay out here before we decide the old fool is crazy?” complained Egerth Mayhurst. He was Graymoor’s jeweler, a shrewd and unpleasant man of middle years, thin and bald, with a carefully sculpted beard along his jawline. Leda assumed he was here to lay claim to any gemstones they found, if a magic portal did exist. Grimly, she realized that he may also have been sent here to report back to the other council members.

“Calm yourself, Egerth,” a deep, resonant voice intoned. It was Bern Erswood, the town’s herbalist and likely the most well-liked of the group. Bern’s remedies rarely did what he claimed, but the barrel-chested, bearded man made you feel good about taking them all the same. “That blue star that Leda called the Empty Star… It’s still climbing in the sky, and it’ll soon be directly over the old stones. I’m not saying anything will happen then, mind you, but I reckon we’ll find out soon.”

The others mumbled their assent and Egerth Mayhurst snapped his jaw shut, arms folded. Leda looked down on Little Gyles, who stood near her with a pitchfork held like he was defending a castle from invasion. The boy had stayed at her side the entire trek, and she couldn’t decide if he wanted her protection or saw himself as the protector. Either way, she smiled and gripped his firm, muscled shoulder.

“You hear that? Shouldn’t be long now,” she said reassuringly. The boy pursed his lips and nodded.

She looked at the tall figure to her other side. Finasaer Doladris was the only elf anyone in Graymoor had ever met, and his long, pointed ears and long, fine hair made for a distinctive profile even in the darkness. His robes seemed to shimmer in the starlight.

“What do you think, Mister Doladris? Will a portal appear?”

“Mm,” he murmured noncommittally. “Difficult to ascertain, councilwoman. Yet whether folk fable or astrological miracle, it’s a fine entry to my documentation of the local populace. Quite intriguing all the same.”

Leda didn’t reply. The elf had been a genuine curiosity to all of Graymoor since he appeared out of the woodland a year ago claiming to be doing research, but the way he spoke made it difficult to hold a conversation.

The old stone mounds were named such because, amidst a marshy woodland, several large slabs of rock lay against one another randomly like the discarded toys of giants. No other such stones could be found within miles of Graymoor, and against all reason these immense stones never collected moss, bird nests, or spiders. Indeed, no vegetation of any kind grew near the stones. Naturally, most locals avoided the place, and it was a frequent object of childhood dares. If Bert was indeed making up a story, the old stone mound was the perfect location for it.

Suddenly, where three blocks leaned haphazardly together to form an upright rectangle, a shimmering door of light appeared. One moment the space was empty and then it wasn’t, without a sound. The dozen Graymoor residents gasped. Little Gyles took an involuntary step closer to Leda.

As she moved forward, the boy at her hip, Leda saw that it was not so much a door as the opening of a corridor. Where before there had been a person-sized gap, there now stretched a long hallway, limned by blue light.

“There’s nothing on the other side!” Veric Cayfield, one of the three halflings present, called out from the shadows. Like the Haffoot siblings who had also joined their party, Veric had migrated to Graymoor from the distant halfling village of Teatown. He had become the town’s haberdasher years ago, because there was nothing Veric loved so much as clothes and sewing. Indeed, he proudly exclaimed to anyone who would listen that the reason he loved Graymoor is because humans allow him the opportunity to use even more fabric for his craft. Leda had no idea why he’d joined their expedition tonight. Or the Haffoots, for that matter.

A handful of others had wandered to the other side of the three stones.

“Sure enough!” Bern the herbalist exclaimed. “I can see you all clearly through the gap on this side. Can you see me?”

“We can’t, Bern,” Leda called out. “For us it’s a hallway.”

The sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard rang out. Mythey Wyebury, who Leda always thought was trouble, moved forward to the shimmering corridor’s opening. “Well?” he said. “So the old man was speaking true. Let’s go find these jewels and magical weapons, eh?”

And then he stepped into the portal.

Hesitantly, a small group followed, each clutching the closest thing to a weapon they could find at home. Umur Pearlhammer, the dwarven stonesmith and Graymoor’s most tenured resident, gripped a hammer. Erin Wywood, the councilman’s granddaughter, had a long knife in her shaking hand. Even Hilda Breadon, the town’s baker extraordinaire, gripped a rolling pin in her meaty fist.

“Do we go in now?” Little Gyles asked, looking up at her. For such a strapping lad, his voice betrayed his young age.

“I suppose we do,” Leda answered with wonder, and the two moved towards the opening.

The corridor before them ran about twenty feet, and she was surprised to find that a flagstone floor ran between the portal opening and a large door. Otherwise, the place was bare walls, the same sort of stone as the old stone mound. But it was the flagstones that unnerved her most, for it spoke of someone crafting this place instead of it simply… being.

Mythey and several others were already at the door.

“Locked!” he shouted back at them, clearly frustrated. Veric, Bern, and the others who had walked around the stones were now all at the portal’s entrance behind Leda, peering in.

Leda strode closer, and the door itself left no question as to someone crafting this place. It was wooden and iron-banded. Jewels or crystals of some sort were embedded in the wood, creating star-shapes that twinkled in the blue light.

So far this has all been narrative and no game mechanics. But here we go! Time to roll some dice! Will anyone in the party understand what’s going on? I’ll give characters with an Intelligence of 13 or more (Erin Wywood, Ethys Haffoot, and Umur Pearlhammer) a chance to puzzle it out at a Difficulty Class of 14. Basically, they have to hit a DC 14 on a d20 roll, plus their Intelligence modifier (which for all of them is +1).

Erin’s roll (14+1): 15

Ethys: (11+1): 12

Umur: (2+1): 3

“I think,” Erin Wywood started to say, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I think we need to wait. Bern said the star wasn’t directly overhead yet, yeah?”

Leda blinked, surprised. She knew Erin to be the closest thing Graymoor had to a minstrel, always in public spaces or the tavern singing songs about the gods and the importance of rooting out Chaos from the world. She never thought of her as quick-witted. Leda was suddenly glad that the councilman’s granddaughter had joined them.

“Screw that!” Mythey spat from the front of the group. Before anyone could stop him, he put his hand on the door’s handle and bashed forward with his shoulder. Mythey was an ass and bully, but he was also a hulking man and perhaps the strongest of them assembled.

This is a bit of a sacrificial lamb move on my part, but I don’t want to assume everyone will listen to the town minstrel’s wisdom, and Mythey is a greedy troublemaker whose best stat is Strength. It makes sense to me that he would try and barge in impatiently. It’s also an opportunity to establish the stakes of this little adventure.

The door can be forced with a DC 15 Strength check. Mythey rolls a (11+1) 12, so fails.

Attempting to force the door triggers a trap, however. Before I describe it, Mythey will take 1d8 damage, which he can halve with a DC 10 Reflex check (he rolls a 3). Sort of a moot point since he only has 1 hit point, but he takes 5 damage and is killed instantly.

It was a solid blow, but the sturdy door held. As the man struck it, the jewels on its surface flashed a bright blue that left all of them within the corridor dazzled. Leda blinked to regain her vision, and as she did so, those nearest the door cried out.

“He’s dead!” Hilda the baker shrieked. “Burned to a crisp! Gods help us!”

Acrid smoke smelling of charred flesh began drifting through the corridor towards the open air. Leda gagged and rushed towards the exit along with the others. She glanced back and saw the blackened lump that was once Mythey Wybury.

As the now-eleven of them huddled outside, under the night sky, near the shimmering portal entrance, several people tried talking at once, some in hysterical, high-pitched tones and others in calm, reassuring ones. The effect was that no one heard a single thing the others were saying, leading to a chaotic babble.

“Enough!” Umur Pearlhammer shouted. At once they all quieted. The dwarf’s weathered face, bushy brows over a bulbous nose, regarded them. “Mythey was a fool and trouble besides, we all knew it. First chance he had to take whatever wealth and steal it, he would have. I donna’ like that he died, mind, but there’s a lesson there for all’a us.”

The others nodded and sniffled and gripped their weapons.

“We gotta take care, now,” the dwarf continued in his gruff, commanding voice. “Think an’ act together, yeah? Miss Wywood has the right of it, methinks. What say you, Bern? The Empty Star still tracking overhead?”

The herbalist scanned the sky. “I would say so, yes. Maybe an hour or two and it should be directly overhead.”

Umur nodded once. “Then we wait. Meantime, who can help me haul that fool’s body out so we can bring it back when we’re done?”

For a moment, no one said a word. Then, at Leda’s side, Little Gyles Teahill raised his hand. “I can help, master stonemason sir.”

Umur nodded again. “Right enough. Come along lad.”

The next hour or two passed slowly. Mythey’s body was badly burned and uncomfortable to see, like he’d been struck by lightning. But he had a short sword in his grip and was the only one of them wearing anything resembling armor. After the trapped door, such things seemed more important than ever. Umur offered to take the sword, since no one else seemed comfortable using it. The leather cuirass, however, would never have fit the stocky dwarf. Indeed, only Bern the herbalist, Egerth the jeweler, and Finasaer the researcher were anywhere near the man’s size. The elf held up his hands helplessly, saying he was not a man of arms. That left the two human men, and, after some discussion, Bern had the least distaste for wearing a dead man’s singed leathers. With the help of the others, they pulled the items from Mythey’s corpse and helped Bern with the straps. Umur swung the sword, away from the group, and grunted in satisfaction as he slid it back into the scabbard that now hung from his hip.

“Something’s happening!” one of the Haffoots, the sister, Ethys, exclaimed, pointing a small finger towards the glowing hallway.

Bern looked skyward, drumming a finger on his now leather-clad belly. “Mm. Looks like it’s directly overhead, sure enough.”

“What is it, Ethys?” Leda asked as the group edged near the stones. It was an unnecessary question. Anyone with a view down the long corridor could see what was happening.

The jewel-encrusted, heavy door had swung open.

Portal Under the Stars, Chapter 2

Introduction: “Portal Under the Stars” Playthrough

On May 26, 2024April 2, 2025 By MagicJMSIn Dungeon Crawl Classics, Tabletop Roleplaying12 Comments

As I mentioned in my last entry, I have recently been pouring over the Dungeon Crawl Classics rulebook by Goodman Games. Each of its 500+ pages is a delight. DCC is a game that a) I really, desperately want to try out, and b) for a variety of reasons (time, number of games already in the queue, my group’s interests, etc.) is unlikely something I can play soon with my weekly online group of players. I also mentioned solo play, and not-coincidentally received the Mythic GM Emulator as a Christmas gift (thanks mom!) last year. So, although superhero games are my first love, right now, in this moment in time, I’m going to try my hand at playing my way through an introductory DCC adventure.

One of the quirks of DCC as a system is “The Funnel,” which is a way of describing how players form new adventuring parties. The basic idea is this: Each player rolls up multiple pre-adventurers, called Level 0 characters. These are normal townsfolk living in a dangerous and mysterious world, ready to defend their livelihood but without the equipment or skills to do so effectively. Then, The Funnel puts these poor 10-15 souls in a brief, deadly scenario. Whoever survives the scenario creates the pool of potential Level 1 adventurers, and off you go.

From what I can gather, The Funnel is a barrier for many “modern” players to jump into DCC. Yet there are also countless testimonials for why a Level-0 Funnel is vital for a new group; The Funnel not only introduces beginners to the rules in a digestible way, but it also emphasizes the tone and tenets of the game world, helps players fall in love with their characters, and creates memorable stories the group will forever remember. Besides, it’s such a different way to start adventuring than most modern games, I am fascinated to try it out. I was immediately sold when reading the rulebook:

Woo! Sounds awesome.

There are a lot of DCC Level 0 adventures, and by far the most popular and highly-touted one is Sailors on the Starless Sea. I own SotSS and initially decided that I wanted it to be the object of my playthrough. What I concluded, however, is that I’d rather not have a public playthrough of such a beloved Funnel, which might ruin it for others (including my own group, if I convince them to try out DCC). Instead, I decided to focus on the Funnel provided in the core rulebook, The Portal Under the Stars.

The Cast of Characters

Before I can dive into my first Funnel, however, I need a large party of townspeople. Simulating four players with three characters each, I rolled up an ambitious TWELVE townsfolk. Below is a quick sketch of each, which is all of the backstory I want right now. There’s no need to create elaborate backstories for characters that might die in the first session, plus the spirit of DCC is to find the characters through playing them. It’s fun to wonder which of these poor saps might eventually become honest-to-goodness adventurers.

I’ll also provide the “stats block” for each character. Right now, don’t worry about understanding the gobbledygook of abbreviations and numbers… I’ll briefly explain mechanics as I go. Suffice it to say, if you’ve played any edition of Dungeons & Dragons, Pathfinder, or another d20-based roleplaying game, DCC will be pretty easy to figure out.

Bern Erswood. Graymoor’s herbalist is well-liked and seen as a kind man eager to help his neighbors, even if his remedies rarely have any medicinal benefits. Bern lives on the village’s outskirts, where he has the most access to nature and can cultivate his gardens.

Bern Erswood. Level 0 Herbalist. STR 9, AGL 11, STA 13, PER 16, INT 12, LCK 11. Init +0; Atk club +0 melee (1d4); AC 10; HP 5; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +1, Ref +0, Will +2; LNG Common; AL Neutral; Equipment: small hammer, herbs, 19cp.

Councilwoman Leda Astford. Leda is one of four councilmembers elected by Graymoor’s populace, and the most recent addition to the Town Council (taking her mother’s seat when she perished from illness). She is young, popular with town residents, and perhaps a touch naïve. Her three councilmember peers—all old, grizzled men who’ve held their seats for years—push Leda to do any and all hard work.

Councilwoman Leda Astford. Level 0 Noble. STR 8, AGL 16, STA 12, PER 15, INT 8, LCK 7. Init +2; Atk longsword -1 melee (1d8-1); AC 10; HP 4; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +0; Ref +2; Will +1; LNG Common; AL Lawful; Equipment: 10′ pole, gold ring, 41cp. Note: Born with a clover-shaped birthmark. (-1 to find secret doors)

Egerth Mayhurst. The town’s only jeweler, Egerth has lived in Graymoor since he was a youth and yet still considers himself better than other locals, who he calls “backwater fools.” Selfish and ambitious, he has remained single well into his middle age and is more than a little bitter about it.

Egerth Mayhurst. Level 0 Jeweler. STR 13, AGL 10, STA 10, PER 9, INT 8, LCK 9. Init +0; Atk dagger +1 melee (1d4+1); AC 10; HP 2; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +0, Ref +0, Will -1; LNG Common; AL Chaotic; Equipment: holy water (1 vial), gem, 24cp.

Erin Wywood. The granddaughter of Councilmen Wywood, Erin is the closest thing Graymoor has to a bard. She spends her time in the town’s tavern playing her ukelele. Erin should be more popular than she is, due mostly to her devout religiosity and fervor, which creeps into all of her interactions and songs.

Erin Wywood. Level 0 Minstrel. STR 13, AGL 11, STA 13, PER 8, INT 14, LCK 10. Init +0; Atk dagger +1 melee (1d4+1); AC 10; HP 5; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +1, Ref +0, Will -1; LNG Common, Halfling; AL Lawful; Equipment: holy symbol, ukelele, 32cp.

Ethys Haffoot. Ethys and her younger brother Giliam are responsible for the trading barge up and down the Teawood River, which connects Graymoor to the neighboring settlements (one of which is the halfling village of Teatown, Ethys and Giliam’s birthplace). She has the family affliction of a club foot, but is otherwise hardy and unquestionably the brains of her family business.

Ethys Haffoot. Level 0 Halfling Mariner. STR 11, AGL 6, STA 12, PER 9, INT 15, LCK 12. Init -1; Atk knife +0 melee (1d4); AC 10; HP 2; MV 20′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +0, Ref -1, Will +0; LNG Common, Halfling, Elven; AL Lawful; Equipment: 10′ pole, sailcloth, 36cp. Infravision.

Finasaer Doladris. Master Finasaer arrived in Graymoor ten years ago from the woods, explaining to the Town Council that he was writing a book on provincial towns in the region. He is the only elf in Graymoor, and a town curiosity in every way. For his part, “Fin” (as the locals call him) is friendly but aloof, and his elevated vocabulary often alienates him from others.

Finasaer Doladris. Level 0 Elven Sage. STR 13, AGL 10, STA 14, PER 9, INT 11, LCK 14. Init +0; Atk dagger +1 melee (1d4+2); AC 10; HP 4; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +1, Ref +0, Will +0; LNG Common, Elven; AL Neutral; Equipment: backpack, parchment and quill pen, 14cp. Note: Born on a full moon as a pack of wolves howled. (+1 to attack and damage for starting weapon). Sensitive to iron. Infravision.

Giliam Haffoot. Giliam and his older sister Ethys are responsible for the trading barge up and down the Teawood River, which connects Graymoor to the neighboring settlements (one of which is the halfling village of Teatown, Ethys and Giliam’s birthplace). He has the family affliction of a club foot, but is otherwise hardy and hard-working.

Giliam Haffoot. Level 0 Halfling Mariner. STR 12, AGL 7, STA 13, PER 12, INT 8, LCK 9. Init -1; Atk knife +0 melee (1d4); AC 10; HP 2; MV 20′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +1, Ref -1, Will +0; LNG Common, Halfling; AL Lawful; Equipment: grappling hook, sailcloth, 25cp. Infravision.

Gyles Teahill. “Little” Gyles Teahill is the son of Ephes Teahill, Graymoor’s most prominent rutabaga farmer. Ephes recently had an accident that has left him bedridden, so Gyles has taken up the majority of his father’s work. He is small, but strong for his size and everyone in the town is either overtly or secretly rooting for the Teahills to have a successful year because of Little Gyles’ heart.

Gyles Teahill. Level 0 Farmer (rutabaga). STR 12, AGL 6, STA 5, PER 12, INT 9, LCK 9. Init -1; Atk pitchfork +0 melee (1d8); AC 10; HP 1; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort -2, Ref -1, Will +0; LNG Common; AL Lawful; Equipment: hen, rations, 25cp.

Hilda Breadon. Graymoor’s only commercial baker, Hilda is famous for her pies, cakes, and cookies of remarkable variety. She would be more successful if she didn’t eat twice as much of her wares as she sells, but she is a woman of great passions and appetites.

Hilda Breadon. Level 0 Baker. STR 9, AGL 11, STA 18, PER 9, INT 11, LCK 11. Init +0; Atk rolling pin +0 melee (1d4); AC 10; HP 7; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +3, Ref +0, Will +0; LNG Common; AL Lawful; Equipment: chain, flour, 26cp.

Mythey Wyebury. Mythey grew up in Graymoor as a ne’er do well, always in trouble and running from his bad choices. Unbeknownst to most of the town, he and a couple of his friends have recently been plaguing the roads as outlaws, stealing from travelers to fuel their tavern revelry. His most closely guarded secret, however, is that he has a sickness that he believes will kill him any day now.

Mythey Wyebury. Level 0 Outlaw. STR 15, AGL 11, STA 6, PER 13, INT 9, LCK 7. Init +0; Atk shortsword +1 melee (1d6); AC 12 (leather armor); HP 1; MV 30′; Act 1d20; SV Fort -1, Ref +0, Will +1; LNG Common; AL Chaotic; Equipment: small sack, 29cp. Note: Born as a bear visited the village. (-1 to Melee damage rolls)

Umur Pearlhammer. No one in Graymoor knows how old Umur is, but they know he’s outlived anyone else’s memory. He’s still hearty enough to be the town’s primary stonemason, though, and despite his dwarven gruffness he is one of Graymoor’s most well-liked residents.

Umur Pearlhammer. Level 0 Dwarven Stonesmith. STR 9, AGL 9, STA 9, PER 14, INT 13, LCK 9. Init +0; Atk hammer +0 melee (1d3); AC 10; HP 3; MV 20′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +0, Ref +0, Will +1; LNG Common, Dwarven, Giantish; AL Lawful; Equipment: fine stone, lantern, 26cp. Infravision.

Veric Cayfield. Like the Haffoot siblings, Veric grew up in the halfling village of Teatown, but moved to Graymoor several years ago to begin his life as a haberdasher. No one loves clothes as much as Veric, and what he loves about humans is how much more fabric he gets to use to make them.

Veric Cayfield. Level 0 Halfling Haberdasher. STR 13, AGL 16, STA 12, PER 9, INT 11, LCK 12. Init +2; Atk scissors +1 melee (1d4+1); AC 10; HP 1; MV 20′; Act 1d20; SV Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; LNG Common, Halfling; AL Lawful; Equipment: fine suits (3), flask, 19cp. Infravision.

And there we go. Have any bets on survivors or early deaths? And yes… several of them have 1 or 2 hit points. Yikes.

Next time… the adventure begins!

-jms

Portal Under the Stars, Chapter 1

Gaming at Fifty One

On May 22, 2024August 24, 2024 By MagicJMSIn Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying11 Comments

Today is a (rather long) State of the Union address on my gaming life.

As best as I can remember, I started playing tabletop role-playing games (or TTRPGs) in Fifth Grade, in 1983, which would make me ten years old. It was one of those phenomena where a friend–though I can’t remember who Gamer Zero was–received a boxed set as a Christmas gift and we all dove in. Soon we all asked our parents to supply us with books, dice, graph paper, and pencils. Throughout the Spring, we played a mix of Basic Dungeons & Dragons and Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, not understanding that they were two largely different games. It didn’t really matter, though… what we actually played was some rules-light, make-it-up-as-you-go game that didn’t even try to involve the many complex tables in the books we didn’t understand. Usually our first-level characters wielded something like a +5 Sword of Dragon Slaying that could cut through anything.

As we transitioned to middle school, a subset of that original group began playing anything we could get our hands on. The biggest boon to our fledgling group was my buddy Russell’s older brother Jim, who was happy to run our games for us. I’m not sure this is an exhaustive list, but I remember playing a lot of Tunnels & Trolls, Gamma World, Car Wars, Top Secret, Marvel Superheroes, Villains & Vigilantes, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TMNT), Heroes Unlimited, Superworld, Champions, GURPS, and, yes, a good helping of D&D (this time using the rules and their published modules). Just seeing the covers of those games triggers a flood of nostalgic make-believe happiness. Those were fun times.

I had a new group of friends in high school and quickly introduced them to the hobby. We almost exclusively played superhero games, primarily Villains & Vigilantes and Champions, though we sprinkled in some TMNT, Golden Heroes, DC Heroes, and Super Villains as well. My good friend Ted ran us through a particularly memorable V&V campaign, which clued me into how cool a longform set of adventures with the same characters can be.

We all scattered to different colleges, and I met new TTRPG enthusiasts. Throughout my time at Occidental College, I ran a monthly Champions campaign, even drawing the “comic covers” for each session we played as keepsakes. At that point, Champions was my only game, and I was deep into the HERO System and its math-heavy fun.

Then it was off to graduate school, where I met both my wife and a little game called Magic: the Gathering, which would be the object of my obsession for years. Then my working career started to take off, I had kids, we moved around, and, as these things do, TTRPGs faded into the background of my life for nearly two decades. I remember trying to organize a D&D adventure with my wife and some friends once or twice during that time, but it never stuck. During that time, I bought-and-sold the D&D 3E and 3.5 rulebooks without really doing anything with them.

In 2018, I took a year off work to recoup, then in 2019 started a job in San Francisco that, unlike most of my previous roles, didn’t require heavy travel. Around that time, I started listening to a ton of podcasts, including the Glass Cannon Podcast. The TTRPG bug started inching its way into my brain, and I began to seek out my local game stores to see if there were people with whom I could play. After some false starts with Dungeons & Dragons 5^th Edition and Pathfinder at local stores, I found a group that was playing D&D 5E and were happy to have me join. They were interested in switching to Pathfinder 2^nd Edition once it was released, and eventually I GMed us through the game’s first 1-20 Adventure Path, Age of Ashes over three years. During those years we took occasional detours, experimenting with Blades in the Dark, Symbaroum, Call of Cthulhu, Savage Worlds, and, at my urging, even returned to supers for a Sentinel Comics RPG one-shot.

That gaming group was my first experience with serious personality clashes in TTRPG groups. I ended up feeling picked on by a person there who was close friends with two other members, and after trying-and-failing multiple times to talk it out, my best recourse was to leave. Suffice it to say, it was the only real negative chapter I’ve had with TTRPGs, which have otherwise been a source of unqualified joy in my life.

For months I was genuinely wounded by my abandoned group. Thankfully the global pandemic had introduced me to virtual tabletops and online games. Eventually I found a couple fun virtual tables, including a delightful online group of Europeans that has met weekly now for almost two years. We mostly play PF2E, but have rotated GMs and done several sessions of Call of Cthulhu, Warhammer Fantasy, and most recently Mörk Borg. On our “really want to play list” are Vaesen, Dragonbane, Traveller, Forbidden Lands, Dungeon World, Lancer, Savage Worlds, and countless others.

It’s fair to say that, at age fifty-one, I’m in the midst of my Second TTRPG Renaissance. At the same time, the whole TTRPG industry is going through its own Renaissance, with intriguing new games popping up seemingly every week. Not surprisingly, my game shelf has exploded. I now own most of the games listed above, plus a metric ton of others I’ve Kickstarted, found in bargain bins or eBay auctions, or used birthday gift certificates on. I’ve even sold old game books and given my college-age son my D&D 5E collection to make room for them in my house.

There are two major differences between my TTRPG life as a gray-bearded geezer compared to my young, wispy-mustachioed self. The most obvious one is that it’s more difficult to find a group with which to play. Throughout middle school, high school, and college, I rolled dice with my core group of friends. Most of our interests were shared and we spent a ton of time together… easy squeezy. These days, in contrast, the vast majority of my contemporaries have neither the time for, nor interest in, TTRPGs. While online platforms make the pool of potential players wider, these online groups are ephemeral. It’s clear to me that if one of my current group members (all of whom are twenty years younger than me) has kids, takes a new job, or moves, it probably spells the end of the group… that sort of “life event disruption” can happen with any group, but somehow in-person groups feel stickier because the investment feels somehow deeper. Meanwhile, I’ve tried to think of how to conjure another reliable, fun in-person group and failed to come up with a solution.

The second difference is in the type of games I’m playing now versus in my youth. If it’s not obvious from the banner image on this blog, my first love is superheroes and comic books, and at one point in college set my sights on becoming a comic book illustrator. As my TTRPG life deepened as a young person, it skewed heavily–and eventually exclusively–to superhero games. Yet all of my groups in the last six years want to play fantasy or investigative horror games. That’s okay, because I can get excited about those games. But none of the groups I’ve encountered want to play superhero make-believe.

The feeling of being an odd-shaped puzzle piece continued recently as I started to discover the “Old School Renaissance” (or OSR) movement within TTRPGs. These games are built by people who love early Dungeons & Dragons and want to recreate the feel of those games for modern audiences. I’ve looked at OSR-type games like Old School Essentials, Knave, Ironsworn, and have absolutely fallen in love with Dungeon Crawl Classics. I’ve also rescued a bunch of my old D&D modules from my mother’s garage, joined the Ancient Dungeons & Dragons Players Facebook group, and have been bingeing the Vintage RPG podcast. Yet when I tell my online group that I’d love to run them through a DCC beginner adventure to test out the system, I get the same lukewarm response that I received when I tried to get my in-person group to play a superhero game. They’ll probably roll with it because they like and trust me, but there isn’t an itch there they need to scratch.

All of this has me reflecting deeply on the years ahead. I’ll certainly keep seeking out online groups and brainstorming how to form an in-person group, because these are games that are most fun when they’re social and played with friends. Just last week, for example, I jumped online with a bunch of strangers to learn to play Dragonbane, a game I own and have considered running for my regular group. I’ll also keep collecting games, because I find real pleasure in reading the books cover-to-cover and seeing them on my shelf. We truly are living in a glorious period of TTRPG innovation, and the sheer diversity and volume of options is awesome.

But I’m beginning to accept that a) I may never have a long, stable group of gaming friends again, even as an empty nester nearing retirement where my time is beginning to be more spacious, and b) the number of games I own and want to play far outweighs the number of hours I’ll be able to play with friends. I surely won’t ever get a chance to play everything, much less everything beckoning to me.

The final addition to my reflections is the rise of solo play in TTRPGs. Solo play has always been a feature of some TTRPGs dating back to the 1970s, but thanks to the global pandemic it has a lot more support now than ever. Many games, like Ironsworn and Vaesen, have solo play built into the base game as an option. Meanwhile, tools like the Mythic GM Emulator allow for being able to play any game solo, without the need for a gaming group. Indeed, one of my recent podcast obsessions is Tale of the Manticore, a great audio production of a guy solo-playing an old-school D&D system.

Maybe the answer is to begin solo play on the games no one but me wants to play? Would I enjoy that, or is the fun of TTRPGs really tied to a group? I’ll probably dip my toe into these strange, solo-play waters soon, while continuing my epic quest to find more time with awesome groups like my current online one. My enthusiasm for TTRPGs is as high as that ten-year-old kid pretending to swing his overpowered sword around. How best to channel that enthusiasm, though, is something I’m still contemplating.

If you have any thoughts about the TTRPG hobby these days, or ways you’ve tackled the hurdles I’ve outlined, I’d love to hear it. Comment below or shoot me an email at jaycms@yahoo.com.

Enthusiastically adventuring,

-jms

Age of Ashes Volume 2: The Citadel Below – A milestone and reflections

On May 14, 2024July 15, 2024 By MagicJMSIn Age of Ashes, Fantasy Fiction2 Comments

I’ve been ignoring this blog of late, which I hope to remedy soon. The good news, though, is that I have been writing diligently every week. Most recently, that’s resulted in the second novella installment of my Age of Ashes novelization. You can pick it up here: https://www.pathfinderinfinite.com/product/475702/Age-of-Ashes-Vol2–The-Citadel-Below

Actually, Volume 2 came out in March. And while I think it’s both better written and more compelling than the first volume (I challenge you not to cry at the end if you’ve read both volumes), I’ve been reluctant to do any sort of marketing or promotion of it. It’s an odd response to something I’m proud to have written. Just as surprising: I’m finding myself stalling amidst Volume 3 despite a robust outline and a love of both the characters and setting. Instead, I’m turning my writing attention to other, smaller projects.

What’s going on here? I have some theories, and also what it means for this blog. That reflection, however, will have to wait until the next post.

My First Pathfinder Infinite Product, a novella!

On July 7, 2023July 15, 2024 By MagicJMSIn Age of Ashes, Fantasy Fiction2 Comments

Hello hello! I haven’t been posting here in awhile for good reasons… Each time I’ve thought to write a blog post or some superhero-RPG exploration, I’ve instead wanted to work on a novella-length fantasy writing project for Pathfinder Infinite. I’m excited to share that I’ve now finished the piece, and it is available for purchase:

https://www.pathfinderinfinite.com/product/444610/Age-of-Ashes-Vol1–The-Councils-Chosen?affiliate_id=1607929

This is my first time trying to publish something like this, and as far as I know the first time someone has tried to turn a Paizo adventure into a longform story. It’s been a labor of love, and I’m very appreciative of my awesome wife Sarah and dear friend Kathy for being willing readers of the early drafts.

I’ve already started Volume 2, which I’m guessing will be finished sometime early in 2024. Fun fun!

An Aberrant Brain

On June 27, 2022June 27, 2022 By MagicJMSIn Superhero Gaming4 Comments

Oh my goodness, I did not intend to have so much time pass between posts. A big work development plus two major trips (a third next week!) plus my first bout of Covid have all kept me away from my laptop.

And yet I had a lot of fun pouring over one of my favorite games of my childhood, Golden Heroes. It was a nice validation of what I want to write about these days: the long list of superhero tabletop roleplaying games (hereafter TTRPGs) that rarely get enough attention. I’m going to continue jumping around the list of games, spotlighting ones I either love or that intrigue me.

Since I started in the 1980s, let’s fast forward a decade. Honestly, the 1990s isn’t a particularly interesting span of superhero games. It’s the time when Champions and, to a lesser extent, GURPS Supers, took up most of the oxygen in the room. Goodness knows I spent my TTRPG time in the ‘90s running two different Champions campaigns and loving the crunchiness that would become the HERO System.

But right at the end of the decade entered a game that I’ve owned for more than twenty years yet barely played: Aberrant. My curiosity in this game abounds. I picked it up at a time in my life when I had just moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, was deep, deeeeeeeep into Magic: the Gathering, and without a dedicated roleplaying group. By the time I was back into TTRPGs there were newer, fresher games to play. As a result, it’s one of those handful of games I own that I’ve played only in a couple of one-shots.

The more I’ve explored Aberrant as part of this blog, though, the more curious I’ve become (and also slightly poorer, since I bought the next two versions to compare them). Let’s see why…

A few weeks ago, I only had three books. Hm…

A Brief History of Aberrant

I couldn’t find a rich, narrative history of Aberrant like I did Golden Heroes, so here is the story as I understand it. Apologies in advance for anything I’m somehow misinterpreting or not seeing clearly.

White Wolf Publishing was a new and powerhouse European game publisher in the 1990s. White Wolf was most successful and famous with its World of Darkness games, but it also produced some fantasy TTRPGs and, right at the end of the decade, the trio of games now known as the Trinity Continuum.

The Trinity Continuum was ambitious because it was essentially three different games interconnected by the same basic mechanics and fundamental lore: Adventure! was an action-pulp, alternate-1920’s game. Aberrant was a near-future superhero game. And Æon was a far-future sci-fi game. All three shared, essentially, one universe with each taking place on a different part of that universe’s timeline. It’s a cool idea, and one that has followed each game through various editions. Although this post is focused on Aberrant, each time the game appeared it has been joined by Adventure!, Æon, and a variety of Trinity-spanning books.

This is speculation on my part, but in looking at White Wolf’s projects I suspect that they saw the success of their World of Darkness games and thought the future was in taking these properties into videogames. They merged with an Icelandic videogame company in 2006 and were acquired by another in 2015. Shortly after that, a scandal led to the dissolution of White Wolf as an independent entity.

Whatever the case, after three years and quite a few supplements, Trinity generally and Aberrant specifically in 2002 ceased publication. The games tried a d20 reboot in 2004 (because pretty much everyone at the time was seeing if they could make d20 work, sort of like 5E now), but they never found their footing. There is shockingly little content I could find on this d20 foray.

Then, for fifteen years, Aberrant faded into the background as a cool setting with a sometimes-unwieldy game behind it. Eventually Onyx Path Publishing, founded by a White Wolf alum, obtained the tabletop publishing rights to a lot of White Wolf’s old games, including Aberrant. After a recently successful Kickstarter, a new version of Aberrant was born using Onyx’s Storypath System. For these reasons, sometimes this new Aberrant is called “Second Edition” and sometimes “Storypath Edition.” Almost everyone calls the 1999 game “First Edition.” (And again, no one refers to the d20 version as anything, really.)

I was able to find this 2019 interview with the most recent version’s core authors, Steve Kenson and Ian Watson. There isn’t much history-telling to fill in the blanks above, but it’s a great introduction to the broad brushstrokes of the Trinity Continuum generally and a deep look at what excited the authors about this newest incarnation of Aberrant. Check it out!

It’s amazing to think that the original game only lasted three years. As far as I know, people are still playing Aberrant campaigns from First Edition, and it’s still some people’s favorite “crunchy” superhero game. And hey, it spawned a reboot twenty years later that is already seeing a ton of new supplements. What makes it so intriguing, you ask?

What’s Great About Aberrant

The single best thing about Aberrant is the one thing that has endured across three distinct game systems: the setting.

It occurs to me that superhero TTRPGs fundamentally need to decide how much to invest in worldbuilding a setting that explains – and potentially sets the boundaries for – superpowers. Most games just assume that it’s a comic book reality, in which radioactive insects, mystical artifacts, aliens, time travel, interdimensional demons, and giant robots just exist, and that people with amazing powers (often bestowed by some combination of the above) choose sides and battle with their fists and eye lasers.

Aberrant does deep worldbuilding. Indeed, the first HUNDRED pages of their 285-page core book in 1999 are dedicated to fleshing out how superpowers came to be and how “novas” – the people with these powers – exist within society. Those pages are also the only ones in color, full of rich, creative entries detailing news reports, science journals, celebrity interviews and, yes, comic book pages. The art throughout is consistently excellent and evocative of the “Iron Age” of comics, clearly a core inspiration for the tone and flavor of Aberrant. In the newest version, the setting takes up even more space (over half of the roughly 300 pages) and is still the centerpiece of drawing you into the game.

I won’t try and do a full review of the setting here. Suffice it to say, Aberrant takes place about ten years in the future after an international space station blew up and irradiated the globe, spawning the rise of novas. The authors have created a richly textured story as to how the world embraced these thousands of superpowered individuals, full of factions, internet celebrity, private companies, and varied government interventions. Playing Aberrant means becoming facile in terms like quantum flux (and quantum tech and, honestly, quantum everything), The Utopia Society, eufiber, the Æon Society, The Teragen, OpNet, the XWF, Mazarin-Rashoud Coils, and yes… Aberrants (both a slur term for novas and a formal organization).

Getting steeped in Aberrant’s setting is as daunting as learning the game’s mechanics, and in fact creates a sort of dual barrier to entry for new players. The First Edition book didn’t help matters by making the setting a series of wildly creative but unorganized snapshots, something very cool when you spend time with it but incredibly difficult to skim or reference later. The newest edition, thankfully, does a bit of indexing and exposition, but it’s still dense stuff.

But just like any deep worldbuilding, the density and depth of the setting are also the things that fans of the game are most passionate about. The world of Aberrant is evocative and full of intrigue. Reading those first hundred pages of the original book or the setting chapters of the new one, it’s impossible not to have your mind explode with campaign and character ideas, very much like modern Blades in the Dark or Symbaroum, but even more globally expansive.

Aberrant’s setting strives to take a realistic view of how the world would react to superpowers. It’s also, as I said, steeped in the Iron Age of comic books, full of the gray morality and grittiness of the 1990s. There is a very real sense that power corrupts. It’s even baked into the mechanics, as the thing most likely to take your character out of a campaign isn’t death – it’s the tainted transformation from modern god to monster. There are rules in the most recent edition for adapting Aberrant to different tones, but I’m a big believer in playing to a system or setting’s strengths. Aberrant is about the costs and perils of having superpowers as much or more as the glory. It’s a game about tough choices in a complicated world.

Here’s a terrific summary from a very good 2019 review of the original game:

“You are placed as central figures participating in a tragedy played out in slow motion. All Novas are doomed to be tainted by their powers in time, despite any good intentions. No matter how hard they try, they will lose that which makes them human. It’s inevitable. It’s a devastating bit of storytelling, and creates a setting rife with narrative rabbit holes to fall down. I haven’t found a superpowered RPG that comes close to this level of depth in its world building.”

For a detailed look at all things Aberrant, check out the OpCast podcast – a podcast completely dedicated to the Trinity Continuum. There is an episode specifically looking at the First Edition of the game, and a five-episode breakdown of the new Storypath book. Not surprisingly, these episodes slant heavily towards the setting.

Let’s Talk Mechanics (And Lots and Lots of Dice)

The strength and richness of Aberrant’s setting are, I believe, what has engendered so much nostalgic love for the game and the reason why it’s respawned into a new edition. It’s certainly the reason I kept cracking open the original 1999 rulebook over the years. But I’ve made it almost to the end of this write-up without mentioning the mechanics. So how does Aberrant actually play?

The 1999 edition was based on White Wolf’s Storyteller system, which uses d10s exclusively. At its core the system is elegant: You create a dice pool when trying something, and every 7 or better on a d10 is a success. The more successes, the better the result. Aberrant built on this core idea by adding “Mega” (or superpowered) attributes and abilities, which count two successes for a 7-9 and THREE for a 10, resulting in much splashier results.

Although elegant, the original Aberrant broke down in how big the dice pools became. It wasn’t uncommon to have twenty or even thirty d10s in a pool. Although rolling dice is fun, it’s apparently possible to have too much of a good thing. Add in that a 1 on a d10 is a “Botch” and those big dice pools start getting weird. Most longtime players of the First Edition shake their head at how out-of-control silly the game experience could be, especially as the power level increased. As one player commented in a Reddit forum: “The idea [of Aberrant] is fantastic, but you will need to houserule the crap out of it.”

Unlike Golden Heroes, character creation is time consuming and complicated, using a point-buy system that isn’t hard to grasp but does involve a lot of steps. It’s nowhere near as crunchy as Champions (which, as I said, was the dominant superhero game when the first edition of Aberrant came out), but it’s not easy either. The good news is that the system allows for pretty much any superpowered concept, but it’s also a process that a GM is going to have to supervise.

I mentioned earlier the inevitable decline from god to monster inherent in Aberrant’s system. This mechanically in the 1999 game is called “Taint” (which, yes, everyone made fun of then and still do today) – basically, the more Taint your character accrues the less human they become. I really like the idea of this system, but in practice it was a little clunky and surprisingly easy to avoid, a better concept than execution.

So along comes the Storypath system from Onyx Path Publishing, an updated version of White Wolf’s Storyteller system. It’s still d10 based, still with Mega attributes and a point-buy system to create any and all powers. Dice pools are less unwieldy. Taint becomes “Flux” and is more flexible (and less narratively inevitable). And the rulebook is definitely, definitely better organized and thus easier to navigate than the First Edition one. For a good overall review of the new Aberrant compared the original, check out this write-up.

Alas, though: I haven’t yet been able to play the newest edition of Aberrant. It remains on my “super interested to try it out” pile. So consider today’s post a nostalgic reminiscence of the 1999 game more than an analysis of the update. Still, my interest is piqued. Here’s hoping the power of my nostalgia and the strength of the overall Trinity setting is one that pulls you into checking it out. And if you do… drop me a line and let me know how it goes!

Next time I’ll jump forward another decade into the 2000s and pluck some fun-but-lesser-known game out of the pile. Until then, uh… may your Summer be Taint-free and all of your experiences Mega? I don’t know, man. I didn’t really have a closing in mind.

My Golden Heroes Brain

On May 29, 2022 By MagicJMSIn Superhero Gaming6 Comments

Starting in early adolescence and continuing through college, I mostly played Villains & Vigilantes and Champions (shhh… yes, I’m old), and someday soon I’m sure to have a lot to say about these two beauties. They are two of my all-time favorite games in any genre.

Amidst epic, mask-clad campaigns with friends, my broader exploration of superhero tabletop role-playing games took root. Of the “other” (meaning, not V&V or Champions) superhero games from my teens and twenties, my favorite is a little-known British game called Golden Heroes.

**A Quick Golden Heroes History Lesson**

The year is 1984. The original Apple Macintosh computer runs its first television commercial. Los Angeles hosts the Summer Olympics. Cyndi Lauper and Wham! are dominating the radio. And a skinny Jay Salazar, just starting middle school, convinces his grandmother during a regular visit to their local gaming store to buy him a new superhero game just hitting the shelves.

It’s amazing that Golden Heroes and I found each other that 1984 day, back at Wargames West in Albuquerque. The game didn’t stay in print long, particularly in the United States. I’m the only person I know across my many gaming groups who ever owned it. Heck, I probably bought one of the few copies in the state of New Mexico.

Why was its tenure so short? Years earlier and across the pond, authors Simon Burley and Peter Haines were university students and friends in England, inspired by Chris Claremont and John Byrne at the height of their powers. They self-published copies of their game and sent it to major publishers hoping for a deal. Check out how the original looked!

The original *Golden Heroes*, pre-Games Workshop

It was Games Workshop, a London-based publisher now famous for the Warhammer miniatures game, that showed interest. Although few people associate the two, Golden Heroes became GH’s first-ever homegrown game.

Unfortunately, Games Workshop lost access to the Marvel Comics license they had intended to use for Golden Heroes, a license that would instead get used for TSR’s famous FASERIP-system Marvel Superheroes game. Marvel Superheroes beat Golden Heroes’ release by weeks and soaked up consumers’ attention, even though many people – me included – thought Golden Heroes was the superior game. A year later, having published two adventures (Legacy of Eagles and Queen Victoria and The Holy Grail), a Supervisor’s (GM) kit, and some embarrassingly bad miniatures, Games Workshop quietly closed the doors on Golden Heroes.

For a lovely look into Simon Burley’s stories of the game’s founding and rules, check out the Grognard RPG Files podcast (Part 1 and Part 2). There are a ton of fun stories there, including Simon and Peter going to conventions with their new game, stirring interest by simulating famous battles from the comic books like the X-Men vs. Shi’ar Imperial Guard fight in Claremont/Byrne’s Dark Phoenix saga.

Despite its lack of commercial success, I love this game. My good fortune to discover Golden Heroes led to countless hours of joy for me during those painfully awkward middle school years. I’ve carried the books with me for forty years and counting even though I have yet to play it for more than a single session with friends.

What’s Great About Golden Heroes

Before I get into the game, I want to say something about the art. Art matters in any TTRPG, but for me it matters even more in a genre meant to simulate a visual medium like comic books. Golden Heroes showcases art from several different artists, and the quality varies. But the good far outweighs the bad, and I am nostalgically giddy about the stuff from Alan Davis, Mike Collins, Brett Ewins, and Jon Glentoran.

As I’ve spent the last week reading reviews of Golden Heroes (for two stand-outs, check out here and here), I’m relieved to see that what everyone loves most about the game is character creation. Those reviews make me feel significantly less self-conscious about the memories of me and my friend Ted rolling up character after character after character, then drawing them into our sketchbooks and going back for more. I sort-of-almost-remember actually playing the game, but not in any way that stands out. What I vividly remember is the joy of making characters… all told, probably more than a hundred of them over the years.

Character creation is fully random in Golden Heroes, which on the surface sounds like a nightmare. You roll on four Attributes: Ego, Strength, Dexterity, and Vigour (yay for British spelling!). You roll on how much damage your character can take and dish out. You of course roll up your superpowers. Finally, you roll on the character’s Background, or life before becoming a hero.

That series of random rolls can potentially lead to a mess, but there’s a safeguard built into the system. Golden Heroes gets around the goofiness of rolling up someone with incredible Strength, low Vigour, a Chameleon Ability, Replication, Teleport, and a Vehicle by making a player rationalize how these particular powers hang together. From the Players Book:

“This is where you must use your skill and imagination as a comic-book writer. You must concoct, possibly with the help of the [GM}, a plausible background for your character which explains how they got their Superpowers. You should attempt to explain as many of your character’s powers as possible, for which the [GM] deems are inconsistent are forfeited.”
p.9

You can trade off power rolls as you go for upgrades to already-rolled powers or for an Advantageous Background (like being a Bruce Wayne / Tony Stark billionaire). So while character creation is indeed random, it gives the player a ton of latitude to sculpt those initial rolls into something that’s fun to play.

Simply put, character creation in Golden Heroes is quick and easy, full of flavor and guided by narrative. At the end of this post I’ll roll one up to demonstrate.

Golden Heroes’ “let’s remember that we’re all comic-book writers” vibe permeates the rules of play as well. There’s a heavy focus on combat and set pieces, dividing combat actions into Frames. Different activities cost different amounts of Frames per round (very similar to the modern Pathfinder Second Edition, actually), giving the action a delightfully comic book feel.

Combat can get overly crunchy, unfortunately. For example, there are different rules to resolve a Parry versus a Dodge, and they use different dice (and to be honest, Parry rules are just bonkers). Tables rule everything, as was common in the 1980s. My guess is that, if I ever got into a regular campaign, I’d eventually simplify some of the mechanics to keep everything moving and as fluid as character creation. Even amidst the crunch, though, there are some cool ideas. In addition to Frames-as-actions, you have two hit-point pools: Hit-to-Coma (HTC) and Hit-to-Kill (HTK), and this distinction helps simulate the fact that comic books can toggle between characters beating each other to a pulp but never dying and life-or-death stakes.

Between combats, characters get a certain amount of downtime phases, which is also easy to picture making their way into comics books. And in a truly narrative RPG innovation, every campaign in Golden Heroes has a set of Campaign Ratings that are built collaboratively between players and Supervisor (the GM) that fluctuate based on the adventures the characters undertake and their role-playing. Campaign Ratings also get awfully crunchy, but it’s clear that despite the complexity the goal here is to have a dynamic world and story built off individual character backstories. Supervisors reward players for being heroes instead of murder hobos or powermongers, and these rewards help them achieve more success in the campaign world. It’s a cool rewards system that veers away from individual level-progression and, again, mimics what superheroes experience within comic books.

If you’re intrigued by the game but either don’t want to track down expensive, hard-to-find books or play outdated crunchy tables of the ‘80s, Simon Burley has gone on to update the system as Squadron UK. It’s easy enough to pick up on DriveThruRPG. Because I can’t help myself, I’ve ordered a copy and may dive into it in a future blog post.

Let’s Roll Some Dice!

As I’ve said, the glory of Golden Heroes is the character creation. In fact, there is an absolutely wonderful section in the Players Book that dedicates three full pages to showing the “now you interpret your powers” system in action – using one set of powers rolls to flesh out eight (!) in-depth character ideas. Let’s walk through the steps and see what happens.

For the four core attributes, it’s old school D&D style: Roll 3d6 and that’s your score. Alright [rattles dice in hand]. Here we go.

Ego is a measure of my character’s willpower. I roll 5,4,3: 12.

Strength is, um… how strong my character is. I roll, 3,5,1: 9.

Dexterity measures manual dexterity rather than physical agility. I roll 5,4,3 again: 12.

Vigour (ha!) is a measure of how fit and healthy my character is. I roll 6,2,2: 10.

Wow. My character is pretty much the definition of average.

Hits to Coma (HTC) is the amount of damage my character can take before passing out. I roll 1d6 for each point of Vigour, or 10d6. Fun! I roll 1,1,2,3,4,1,5,2,6,5: 30. Blech. My character will be Staggered at 1/5 of my HTC, or 6, and will be Stunned at 1/10, or 3.

Hits to Kill (HTK) is the amount of damage my character can take before dying. 10d6 again yields 6,6,4,1,3,2,3,6,3,1: 34. My character will be Hospitalized at 3 HTK.

Movement is how far my character can move in a Frame, measured in metres (ha!). The calculation here is (Strength + Dexterity + Vigour) / 6. My character’s movement is 5.

Now comes the fun part.

I get a number of power rolls equal to 2d6 halved + 4 (why not 1d6+4? I don’t know, man. I suppose the idea is that rounding up gives you slightly more rolls on average). Since I’m rolling mediocre today, of course I roll 7, rounded up is EIGHT power roles. Wheeee!

Each Power Roll can be used to either:

Determine an Advantageous Background
Roll on the Superpower Generation table
Upgrade a Superpower already rolled
Enhance Superpowers and skills (used for campaigns)

Roll 1-2: 55 = Psi Powers, which the table tells me immediately costs an additional power roll. Psi Powers are COOL and makes a ton of sense for someone with decidedly average stats.

Roll 3: 56 = Psi Powers! This automatically bumps me from Grade 1 Psi Powers to Grade 2, something I would have probably done anyway. Neat.

There’s a subsystem in Psi Powers to determine my powers. I get 15 + 1d10 Psi Points and I roll a 9. 24 Psi Points, which is a resource pool for using my psychic powers. What psychic powers? Let’s roll four d10s and find out:

Psi roll 1: 6. Telekinesis. This is my Specialty Power (meaning it costs less Psi Points to use than the others).
Psi roll 2: 4. Precognition
Psi roll 3: 5. Psi Blast
Psi roll 4: 8. Telepathy

Roll 4: 02 = Agility, which as I said is different from Dexterity. This means my character can leap 4 metres in a Frame, swing at 2-4 times my Movement, gain a bonus to dodge, and can do extra damage by swinging or leaping into combat.

Roll 5: 33 = Health. Another table here, which I roll 5 on a d6: Toxin Immunity. My character will be immune to poison.

Roll 6: 20 = Energy Attack. Another table, which I roll 6 on a d10: Vibration. My character can emit destructive vibrations.

Roll 7: 24 = Flight, which is what it says it is and doesn’t require another roll.

Roll 8 is my Advantageous Background roll (which the rules allow me to pick, but I’m embracing full randomness): Previous Training, which allows me to add 2 to any Attribute or 1 to two Attributes and should represent some sort of elite training.

My character’s Superpower rolls:

Psi Powers (Grade 2 – Telekinesis, Precognition, Psi Blast, Telepathy)
Agility
Health (Toxin Immunity)
Energy Attack (Vibration)
Flight
Background: Previous Training

Now comes the time to rationalize and make sense of these rolls. As the Players Guide says, I need to come up with an origin story and narrative that ties everything I’ve rolled together, forfeiting what doesn’t make sense.

Can I get eight distinct concepts out of this list? Gauntlet thrown!

Concept 1: Hand of Gaia

Maasa Abebe is a young, talented archeologist (Previous Training, +2 Ego). At a dig she discovers the literal heart of the world, an artifact linked to the primordial goddess Gaia. Thereafter she is a living avatar of the goddess, able to tap into the ancient soul of the Earth itself to move objects, read others’ thoughts, and even unleash localized earthquakes. Her connection to her goddess makes her immune to natural toxins and preternaturally light on her feet.

I can’t really make Flight makes sense here but kept all others.

Concept 2: Psion

Cassidy O’Toole is in the prime of her life and a doctoral student of cognitive psychology (Previous Training, +2 Ego) when she discovers her terminal illness. Her wealthy parents sign her up for an experimental set of treatments to find a cure. The bad news is that the treatment facility is destroyed during a super-powered battle, with Cassidy the only survivor. The good news is that the chemicals and supervillain powers combine to cure Cassidy and leave her with superior health and psychic powers. She is adopted by the superhero group responsible, becoming an invaluable member.

I don’t really see a room for Energy Attack here (Flight, I’m saying, is a result of Telekinesis on herself).

Concept 3: Quake

Adam Johnson is a dedicated, albeit mediocre gymnast (Previous Training, +1 Strength, +1 Vigour, also accounts for Agility) and geology student at UC Berkeley. During a particularly humiliating competition, Adam’s mutant powers manifest and his rage causes an earthquake to level the gymnasium. Horrified, he retreats from school and vows to understand these new abilities before returning to society. He is quickly found by a group of mutants who train him in his vibration-themed powers (including flight and a metabolism so high it’s resistant to toxins) and give him purpose.

In this version, I’m dropping the highly valuable Psi Powers and would likely request that the Supervisor allow me to upgrade Energy Attack to at least Grade 2 to compensate.

Concept 4: Nomad

No’madd is the sole survivor of an alien spacecraft that has crashed on Earth. In a desperate gambit to save their species from a dying planet, No’madd’s people rigorously trained countless explorers (Previous Training, +2 Ego) and sent them to the far reaches of the galaxy. Now stranded here and utterly alone, No’madd has vowed to ingratiate themself to the local populace and improve life on Earth as much as possible, always hoping more of their people will find their way here.

Aliens always feel a little like cheating in Golden Heroes because I can basically keep everything and say it’s innate. I’d probably ask the Supervisor to switch from Vibration on my Energy Attack to Cosmic.

Concept 5: Prana

Sunita Singh was born and raised in a monastic order (Previous Training, +2 Ego) where she quickly became a prodigy of the mindfulness and inward-centered teachings. At fifteen years old, she had surpassed all masters of the order. At twenty, she went into a meditation so deep that she did not eat or sleep for years. At twenty-five, finally, she awakens with a glowing third eye on her forehead and manifests a broad array of psychic abilities. She has perfect control of her body, full of grace and immune to toxins. Sunita, without a word, flies up and away from the monastery, full of intent to change the world.

I’m keeping everything here except the Energy Attack.

Concept 6: Noir

Christopher Knight was a hardboiled detective (Previous Training, +2 Ego) in Chicago in the 1920s, killed during a case investigating a crime boss. Now he has reappeared, spectral but solid enough to interact with the world. Why now? What is he here to do? Chris doesn’t know, but he picks up the trail of that cold case, intent on finding out.

The Psi Powers, Flight, and Health are all easy enough to fold into “dead guy powers,” and the Agility is decently noir-style pulp detective. I’d work with the Supervisor to say that his Energy Attack is his spectral pistol, using Vibration as an energy type but saying it’s basically ghost bullets.

Concept 7: ATHENA-5.5

Nine years after Dr. Dara Melamed’s death, the ATHENA prototype artificial intelligence she created finishes building itself a physical shell (stretching here, but I’m saying self-educating itself for years has led to Previous Training, +2 Ego). The smooth, silver globe rises from Dr. Melamed’s secret laboratory and drifts out into the city. (It’s the story of Ultron from Marvel Comics, but a creation that strives for making the world better through collaboration with its fellow populace.)

I don’t think it makes sense to keep Agility, since a floating globe won’t really be leaping or swinging anywhere. Everything else makes sense, though I would talk to the Supervisor about making the Energy Attack Sonic or Laser instead of Vibration, which is more what I picture.

Concept 8: Medusa

Deep-sea diver (Previous Training, +2 Vigour) Sophie Kim discovers a new, bizarre species of jellyfish, an amazing and groundbreaking find. Unfortunately, it stings her and sends her into a coma for nearly two years, and the jellyfish is never seen again. When she awakes in a government science facility, Sophie’s body has turned translucent like a jellyfish, her hair a mass of tentacles and her brain pulses with electricity within her iridescent skull. She has amazing psychic powers, immunity to toxins, and she can swim at astounding speeds. Government officials give her the codename Medusae (which the media mistakenly changes to “Medusa,” a name that sticks) and send her out on aquatic missions.

No Energy Attack here, and I’d say the Agility and Flight are water-based. She can’t technically breathe underwater, so I’d either ask for a device to allow her to do so or to provide a Grade 2 on Health from the Supervisor to compensate for the self-imposed limitations on my powers.

There we go! Eight distinct thumbnail concepts from the same random rolls, all of which I can see being a fun foundation for a series of adventures. So yes, fully random rolls can be a mess. But there’s enough freedom in character creation that somehow solid characters still emerge. It’s fair to say that very few of these ideas would manifest in quite the same ways if I was using a point-buy system and starting with my own concept. That’s the joy of Golden Heroes character creation, and why it’s so addictive.

Holy cow this post became a beast. I’ll set my eyes on another game from my master list of games and see where the next post takes me.

In the meantime, may your Vigour be high and your Movement take you many metres!

A New, Heroic Adventure

On May 20, 2022May 20, 2022 By MagicJMSIn Superhero Gaming1 Comment

For the past couple of years, my posts here have primarily been scenes I’ve written for my longstanding Pathfinder campaign. Because of some dynamics within the gaming group, we’re taking an extended break. Being a Game Master of a deep and complex story has been soaking up my creative energy for almost three years now, and I suddenly find myself with time and space for something new. I’ve learned over the years that a) I only have room in my brain for one creative project at a time, and b) there must always be a project.

What to do with this fresh, blank canvas? Normally I would turn to superhero fiction, either character sketches in preparation for something ambitious or short, contained stories. But I’ve been loving this tabletop role-playing renaissance in my life, and I’m not ready to fully replace my TTRPG creative space with something entirely non-TTRPG related. The switch from traditional fantasy to superheroes is an easy one, but my grip on my dice bag is white-knuckled and fierce.

Alrighty then. It’s time to turn this blog into a blog.

Superhero Tabletop Role-Playing Games

For as long as I’ve played fantasy TTRPGs – which for me started in middle school back in the 1980s – I’ve played superhero TTRPGs. I’m a lifelong comic book reader, and the opportunity to live those stories was and continues to be a siren’s call.

The first superhero tabletop game, Superhero 2044, followed the more popular Dungeons & Dragons by a mere three years (1977 vs 1974). Since then, for forty-five friggin’ years and counting, a handful of superhero games have continued to regularly pepper the broader role-playing game landscape, nowhere close in popularity but ever-present.

The lack of popularity, by the way, confuses me. Even in our modern age of the Marvel Cinematic Universe dominating cinema and television, superhero games take a backseat to elves and dragons, steampunk industrial fantasy, horror, and futuristic sci-fi. I mean, look at the top graphic from this 2021 analysis, where a superhero game doesn’t even crack the top fourteen Google searches (unless you count small slivers of the Powered By The Apocalypse or Blades in the Dark systems). That same article says that the superhero genre makes up a measly 6% of the broader TTRPG market.

Maybe it’s that simulating superhero action – where traditionally anything can and does happen, full of characters with wildly different power levels – is more difficult than other fantasy genres. Maybe it’s that people want to watch adults dress in spandex, imagine it, but ultimately get embarrassed actively pretending it with friends. I don’t know. For now, the important point here is that, okay, these games aren’t incredibly popular with most people.

To me, though, they’re THE BEST.

Indeed, I have a full cabinet full of superhero TTRPGs I’ve collected over the years. Many I’ve played with friends over the decades, but just as many I’ve only made some characters and wished that I had a gaming group eager to tell superhero stories with me instead of sword-and-sorcery ones. It’s fair to say at this point that I’ll probably never play all the comic book-inspired games that I own.

At some point in the last year, the collector in me started getting curious as to what percentage of the entire superhero TTRPG market I knew, and if there were any new or major publications I’d missed over the decades.

(This sort of side quest, the need to generate a list or framework, is common for me. Heck, two years ago I started compiling a “Favorite 300 Albums” spreadsheet and hope to finish it before Christmas. My brain is a demanding, dissatisfied master.)

The result of my curiosity is this list. Or perhaps I should say THE LIST. It is beautiful and daunting and full of masks… every superhero role-playing game ever published. I’m not saying it’s perfectly comprehensive because every time I dig through the internet, I miraculously find little gems I never knew existed. But I am saying that this list is the most complete list of superhero TTRPGs around.

Basking in Superheroic Glory: A Blog Pivot

Now that I have this wonderous, sparkling list, what do I do with it?!? On its own, it’s cool but not particularly useful. At one point I fantasized about launching a podcast where I walked through each game, systematically looking at what made it special or fun and taking it for a test spin. But the technical start-up costs of a podcast are daunting and not something I’m particularly excited to take on right now.

But you know what I am excited to do right now? Write, baby.

Welcome to my new creative project. I’m going to take some time to explore these superhero role-playing games, one by one. I’m not going to march in order down the list, because wow does that sound like grappling with a lot of archaic, bad games early on. Instead, my intention is to cherry-pick games I either love or that intrigue me, and just generally see where this series goes. Maybe I’ll only write about a small handful of games and feel ready to jump into more fiction writing. Or maybe this list will be satisfying enough to keep going. I’m excited to find out.

We’ll begin next time with a low-key favorite game of mine from high school, often overlooked but utterly delightful. Here’s a hint: I probably should have said “low-key favourite game.”

Stay tuned!

AoA Session Intros: 136-150

On October 24, 2021May 20, 2022 By MagicJMSIn Age of AshesLeave a comment

[Author’s note: What are these “AoA” tags? Check out this post to know why I’m writing these and why they don’t have anything to do with superheroes. After writing only the occasional cut-scene, I decided to do a quick narrative before every Pathfinder session instead of a recap. We already had someone in the group writing recaps, so mine felt redundant, and there were too many opportunities for fiction writing that I was letting pass me by. Below are a collection of intros from our sessions. I don’t love using present tense, but it’s what fits best into these tabletop roleplaying sessions.]

Session 136: Gifts from the Guilds

Aldane runs, such that he’s able, yelling and throwing servants out of the way as he goes. When he shows up to the stables, he is sweaty, red-faced, and has mustard in his beard.

“What!? Have you–? By the gods, man, you did it!” and he begins laughing, loudly and near hysterics.

Then, all at once, he grows quiet. Like a father first-touching his newborn, Aldane Zulran slowly, slowly walks over to Duneshadow and places a hand on his neck. The guildmaster closes his eyes and sighs.

After a full minute, he opens them and they are filled with tears. “How have you done this thing?” he whispers. “You are a master of your craft my elven friend. Legendary! You are named Owl for your eyes of a raptor, yes?”

Session 137: Xotanispawn

It is a dark, desert night, with only a sliver of moon in the sky. Owl has positioned himself over one hundred feet from the horses and has remained perfectly still for over three hours, waiting.

Yet despite the darkness and distance, it is the elven archer that first notices the horses’ behavior, whinnying and kicking their hooves nervously. Silently, he reaches for an arrow from his quiver.

Obedience Fletcher, sitting atop a magical perch floating fifty feet above the desert floor, is the second to notice the horses’ jitters. As he pulls an arrow from his own quiver, he sees the sand near the southernmost horse begin to shift and dance.

The monster erupts from the ground with speed and savagery. It is indeed larger than an elephant, a black beetle glowing with an inner, molten furnace. The horses rear and scream as Obe and Owl almost simultaneously pull back their bowstrings.

Session 138: Deeper into the Guilds

Sabine finds the purple-haired gnome in her office that morning. She greets her with a concerned smile.

“Ah, Sabine. Did you come all alone? How did you make it through the city?”

Sabine swallows, the scaled skin on her neck moving. “It was not easy,” she says in a whisper.

Exavisu sighs and picks up a scroll where she has clearly either taken notes or someone else’s notes have been given to her.

“The news on you is not good, Sabine. As I mentioned in your sending spell, you are indeed wanted by the Zephyr Guard for murder of a Dean of the College of Dimensional Studies. Many people saw you enter with a student there, a human woman named Parnoosh who has since gone missing. Parnoosh told the Zephyr Guard and other bystanders that you had convinced her that whatever had you banned earlier from the College was a misunderstanding. The student said that you asked an audience with the Dean, a longtime instructor named Behfar, and that Parnoosh was totally fooled by your,” she clears her throat, “treachery. Once in Behfar’s office, the student said that you produced a poisoned dagger and said you were seeking vengeance for being banned from the school.

“Unfortunately, many people saw you enter with Parnoosh, and several said that the student was inconsolable afterwards, with Behfar dead by poison and you nowhere to be found. It looks quite bad, I’m afraid.

“Behfar was considered a government official. Do you know the laws of Katapesh, Sabine? Murder of a guild member, Zephyr Guard, or government official is punishable by execution. No trial. You will be killed on sight.”

“What is the crime for killing someone else?” Sabine asks, aghast.

Exavisu waves. “Not as severe. Six months in prison, a fine, and an official warning. The point is that you cannot show your face on the streets of Katapesh. Ever.”

Session 139: Piroozan and Wahar

The goblin mage Piroozan is leaving with the last dregs of the crowd, in a group of a half dozen stadium attendees. It doesn’t look like he’s with the others, just part of the crowd. As always, he’s looking shifty and sinister, bulbous head in a broad red hood, orange eyes darting left and right.

He looks in Jethro’s direction and eyes widening when he sees Margaret. He charges the ratfolk paladin.

“Oh! The Skewer Rat! Now that is a turn of events I didn’t anticipate. You made me a handsome fortune against that plague giant, yes. Tell me something, if you would…” He reaches into his cloak.

…may I have your autograph?” And he pulls out a large dagger, the sheath of which is marked up with all sorts of writing on it. At first you think they’re runes, but as you get closer you see they are scrawled signatures.

“Do you have an inkwell and quill? If not, I’m sure I can find one.”

Session 140: Duneshaker

“And now, it is time for the main event,” the same goblin barker you remember from earlier in the week screams into his brass megaphone. “It is a special day, everyone. Though a newcomer to our rings, the Skewer Rat has clearly become a favorite. Earlier this week, she singlehandedly defeated a giant many times her size without even breaking a sweat! And she is not alone this time! The Skewer Rat has brought friends, including a veteran of the Coliseum: The Black Bear! And she brings newcomers! Archer, Scarface, and Goldeneyes!” The crowd roars all around you like a physical thing, pounding you from all sides.

“And our Skewer Rat will need the support, because we have a beast unlike anything seen in this ring for one hundred years! After destroying two villages in southern Katapesh, the Aspis Consortium has captured and delivered a legendary behemoth to our midst. Be afraid, because it is time to unleash… the DUNESHAKER!”

Musclebound men and women who are clearly slaves have chains attached to the giant metal grate in the center of the gladiator ring. They strain and pull, digging their feet into the sandy floor. With the sounds of the crowd raining down, the grate slides to the side.

Just then, robed figures all around the perimeter of the stands raise their arms and begin chanting. Sabine sees clearly what they are doing. A dozen or more mages are casting Wall of Force to encircle the perimeter, where the coliseum walls end and the stands begin, protecting the crowd.

When the grate is fully pulled aside the slaves run, sprinting to an open door that closes behind them with a heavy boom. The audience grows silent, holding their collective breath.

You all hear the rattle of something enormous, and true to its name the ground shakes and a giant insect begins pulling itself from the hole. It looks like this.

“Place your bets, place your bets! The heroes against the mythical Duneshaker! It is the thing of legends, ladies and gentlemen! Who will prevail?”

Session 141: Challenging Sand Claws

“Welcome back to the Grand Coliseum in majestic Katapesh, City of Trade. Listen to that crowd roar! What do you think of our feature match so far, Statler?”

“Thanks Waldorf. It’s been a bit one-sided, if I’m honest. The Street Rat has brought a mighty force with her into the ring, two spellcasters, an archer, and of course the mighty Black Bear. It seems the legendary Duneshaker we were promised is overmatched.”

“Yes, the entire group seems to be levitating, keeping the Duneshaker from knocking them down with its very movement. How did they know to cast that spell from the very start?”

“It’s a mystery, Waldorf. And their ability to attack it from distance while the Black Bear and Skewer Rat engage it in melee is making short work of the beast.”

“Yes yes. And spells to enlarge the Skewer Rat and Sarenrae cleric to match the Duneshaker’s reach, Statler, and even more spellcasting to the entire group to make them attack almost faster than we can track! It seems we’ll all be going home early tonight.”

“On one hand, it’s the most impressive gladiator team we’ve seen in memory. Surely the city will be talking about them tomorrow.”

“Yes yes, but on the other hand, we’re denied any drama, Statler!”

“Well, the Duneshaker has blinded the cleric and injured the immensely popular Black Bear. Perhaps there’s drama left, eh Waldorf?”

“Perhaps, Statler, but I think this may be over before it’s even begun.”

“We shall see.”

“I suppose we shall. Now look!”

Session 142: The Ibis Fountain

Obedience Fletcher watches from his perch atop a marketplace roof, the noontime sun pressing onto his neck and shoulders. Under the brim of his hat, his red eyes watch the four figures below, at the edge of the market square.

Two Zephyr Guards, the city’s police force, are talking to merchants, buyers, and passerbys. Their bright attire–purple, turquoise, and blue robes and headscarves–make them easy to pick out of the crowd, as do the heavy crossbows slung across their backs and curved scimitars hanging from their belt sashes.

One of the Zephyr Guard, a dark-skinned, human woman, holds a parchment with some sort of face on it, and she’s pointing bystanders to it and asking questions. Everyone is shaking their heads and edging away.

Perhaps it is the other two figures causing the crowd’s unease. Nearly ten feet tall, their bodies are made entirely of what looks like burnished brass. Bright azure light leaks from every joint and crack, visible even in the bright noontime sun. They move stiffly, clearly automaton constructs rather than living beings.

Obe has heard whispered rumors of the aluum, the construct guards used by the elusive Pactmasters to guard their palace. Aluum are animated in part by a trapped soul within their breastplate. Yet rumors also talk about the spiritbound aluum, the elite entities used to quell riots or assassinate enemies of the state. These aluum have dozens of souls trapped within them, usually criminals whom the Pactmasters wish to deny accessing the Great Beyond. Obe’s gut tells him that, without a doubt, he is viewing two spiritbound aluum entering the square.

His eyes flick to the Ibis Fountain. Jethro and Margaret are there, also watching the figures with wariness. Sabine, it seems, has disappeared.

Obe looks back at the aluum, studying them. Suddenly both pairs of eyes flash blue brightly. Then, in unison, the two aluum turn to the Zephyr Guard. Each raises a fist faster than Obe would have thought possible and crushes it into the guard, and each human crumbles to the ground, stunned.

Someone in the square screams and the marketplace square erupts in pandemonium.

Session 143: Making Plans

Someone at the lead of what is becoming a mob, bolder than the others, turns to Jethro. “You and your companions have saved many lives today, priest. Though you are clearly not from Katapesh, you speak for Sarenrae. Who is responsible for this madness?”

Session 144: Toilday Morning

The groups wakes in darkness, hours before dawn.

It is only Sabine Sterling that had a dreamless night, arriving only two hours ago from her conversations with The Seer, Jumpy the halfling necromancer, and the artificer Dariyadel.

Margaret Arodeni, of course, has experienced a night plagued by her patron, vague whispers of victory and power in absolute darkness while bees spiraled over her naked body, submerged below the neck.

Glennhal Grandyr has dreamed of himself as a giant, rainbow-colored owl, carrying the camel Duneshadow in his claws as he soars over the nighttime desert.

Jethro Vermillion has woken from an uncomfortable dream of sex with a golden-masked, elf-eared woman in white robes.

And finally, Obedience Fletcher has dreamed of hunting red-feathered, flightless birds with his bow alongside the gnome Samineh, both riding stags with huge antlers and leather armor.

Session 145: Versus Sand Claws

Sabine Sterling glimpses Uri Zandivar deep within the Red Pyramid, scribbling furiously, and then her eyes snap open. It is not the face of Sabine we see, but instead a middle-aged human woman, three scars running horizontally, one above her eye and two below. For a moment that no one sees, the disguise flickers as Sabine recovers from her spell. She blinks and rediscovers her surroundings.

Everywhere, the Grand Coliseum crowd roars like a dragon. She fights the urge to cap her hands over her ears it is so loud. To her immediate right, two men are screaming Sand Claws’ name, clearly drunk and jostling Sabine. To her left is a young boy with a wicker Skewer Rat doll clutched in his small fist. His mother is trying to speak to him, but the crowd swallows her words. He stares, wide eyed and lost in the moment, down below.

Sabine follows his gaze. There are his companions, Margaret with her sword drawn and shield raised, Owl with his bowstring pulled tight to his cheek, and Jethro, whose eyes shine golden even in daylight. The three look impossibly small on the arena floor, surrounded by the cacophonous arena.

Sand Claws looks swift and deadly, flanked by two giants whose only similarity is the third eye on each forehead, nestled between twin horns. What were these creatures? Sabine’s analytical mind begins to search the tomes she’s read to identify them.

Yet her concentration is broken by the sudden eruption of noise. Impossibly, the crowd becomes even more deafening as the combatants swing into action.

Session 146: The Wish and the Bees

The crowd emits a collective gasp as the gray-skinned giant steps out of the shadows and swings her bladed instrument into Jethro Vermillion.

From across the arena floor, Margaret Arodeni spins to see Jethro’s enormous, glowing form crumple to the sand. He falls to lay next to Owl, who looks like a discarded puppet amidst the giants surrounding him.

“Ha!” Sand Claws whoops. “You are alone now, Skewer Rat.”

In her platemail, shining in the sun, Margaret sees the shadow yai sneer over Jethro’s body. She sees the huge, fur-covered bowman pull back his bowstring even as his summoned mantis clicks its mandibles. Sand Claws clashes her twin kukri together, spinning and dancing in for the attack.

Session 147: New Faces

We see Jethro standing over Margaret’s corpse, hands raised as he projects the last words of his eulogy. Sand Claws’ bee-swarmed body lies off to one side. The cleric looks fatigued and bloodstained.

From the arena floor we pan up, slow motion, to a small, young Kellish woman with long black hair, wearing a simple white chemise, embroidered with a red triangle. She sits still, her hands clenched, eyes wide. Everyone’s faces around her are white and terrified, clinging to every word from the Sarenrae cleric below. The young woman’s body trembles, her own face ashen.

We fade out.

We fade in on Glennhal Grandyr, the man known as Owl. He stands on the bloody sand of the arena floor, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around him. His weapons, buckler, and pieces of armor lay at his feet as he carefully, almost reverently, unfastens the remnants of his armor. Eventually he stands in only the sweat-stained, green cloth beneath. His large, yellow eyes scan the items arrayed around his now-bare feet.

He looks up to the blue sky, a dome above the Grand Coliseum, his face inscrutable.

Behind him, in the distance, we see Hajir, the Black Bear, sprinting towards Margaret’s body with a parade of gladiators behind him, tears streaking his cheeks.

Our scene shifts back to the Kellish woman, still shaken, standing from her seat in the arena.

Now she is exiting the front gates. She passes a knot of people yelling and arguing, everyone angry. One voice rises above the others.

“No! We are not honoring any bets placed on the match! There was no winner. No winner! Take your money and go! No bets honored today! Take it up with the Pactmasters if you must! Out! Get out!”

The woman passes Owl outside the Coliseum, still standing only in his shift. Jethro has a hand on his shoulder and is talking fervently with him. Sabine stands nearby in her scarfaced disguise, lips pressed tight and eyes haunted. Owl gently removes the cleric’s hand, shakes his head, and turns his back on his companions. He leaves the pair at the front gates of the arena, walking in the same direction as the young woman. Jethro is yelling something we cannot hear as the sound warbles confusedly in our shot.

Our scene shifts again back to the woman, now wandering through the streets of Katapesh. She is blank-faced as a street vendor speaks to her but the sound of our image is still distorted.

Finally the vendor’s voice cuts through. “Do you want the red thread? Which red?”

The woman blinks, suddenly aware of her surroundings. “The burgundy. Sorry, I lost myself for a moment.”

The vendor replies, “That’s alright lady. You look like you need a rest.”

“Yes, a nap… the mending can wait.”

Our scene fades back on a now empty Grand Coliseum. Only Sand Claws’ body remains, untouched where it fell. From the hips up it is an unrecognizable mass of raw flesh. Several dozen bees and wasps still cling to the meat and a cloud of the insects buzzes overhead in a cloud.

Our camera zeroes in on one buzzing wasp as it pulls away from the swarm. The wasp flies up and over the arena walls, off into the fading sunset over the city.

The scene shifts to Jethro, Sabine, and Obe standing in an alleyway. Obedience Fletcher, stone-faced, listens while his two companions explain the events of the afternoon. The sky beyond the alleyway is a deep orange and red. The camera zeroes in on the red…

As the camera pulls back, we see our young Kellish woman in a red nightgown in a small dwelling filled with cloth, thread, and various sewing implements. She lays her head down, eyes wide. She drinks a concoction, and slowly drifts off just as the sunlight fades from a nearby window.

Black.

In the blackness, we hear a buzzing sound.

We’re now above the city, a close-up view of a wasp flying. In the distance, the Red Pyramid.

The wasp flies closer, approaching a small, sand-colored building near the pyramid. It zips through a window left ajar, and our camera follows it. Inside we see the small seamstress lying asleep in her red nightgown, beneath a light sheet. The wasp flies up to her pillow, lands, and walks up to her face. It pauses for a moment, before climbing inside the woman’s nose.

A long moment passes.

The woman stirs.

Her body suddenly bucks, her back arches.

She screams. “No!”

Her body begins shaking as though being thrown about from the inside out.

“No!” She screams in desperation.

Then from her mouth comes another voice. Beautiful. Ancient. Otherworldly.

“Quiet my dear Sahba. Let mamma take over.”

“No!”

Her body buckles, we hear joints crack and pop. Simultaneous voices emerge from her mouth. Screams of pain. Laughter. Cackling laughter.

Session 148: A Deadly Poison

Jethro is ushered by Aldane’s personal physician, a halfling named Doctor Remie, to the guildmaster’s bedroom. The room reeks of the pungent sweat of illness, and Jethro finds the obese guildmaster laying in soaked sheets, his face shining wetly. He is panting.

“Who is there? Is that my raptor?”

“He keeps asking for this raptor,” Dr. Remie says. “Do you know what that might be about?”

“He is confused,” she explains. “And seems to be having waking nightmares, something about fires and dangerous beasts.” And then Aldane begins screaming.

Session 149: The Golden Serpent

Down by the southern dock district is the Scorpion’s Sting, a surprisingly easy-to-find base of operations for Hahcuss Hrann. Whereas the poisoner storefronts are part of the Nightstalls, and thus inherently difficult to find, the guild headquarters is well known. It is a testament to how much poison and drugs are a part of everyday life in Katapesh.

The Scorpion’s Sting is a large tent whose sides are embroidered with stylized scorpions. Inside, the tables that line its interior walls are covered in jars, bowls, bottles, vials, and pouches of powders, pastes, soluble tablets, liquids, and dust. Some of them are vile smelling, others pleasantly fragrant, while still others are completely odorless.

There, working with several assistants, is Hahcuss Hrann. At the guild gathering he wore somewhat fine clothes, but now he is decked out in soiled workclothes and leather gloves, wearing protective goggles.

“Ah! So you survived the night after all! Good. I have been working on your mysterious poison. Only one breakthrough yet, but progress. Any new symptoms or insights, my young man?”

Session 150: The Council of Guilds

[not technically the intro, but the end of the session]

Uri stands. He is tall, handsome, imposing… easily the most impressive human you’ve seen in your life, his presence rivaling that of even the dragon Veshumirix.

“Honored Pactmasters,” he nods his head. “To my guildmaster friends and colleagues. These are grievous accusations.

“Yet I would ask that you consider the source of these accusations. They are a band of bloodthirsty mercenaries, sent from another continent, with no respect for Katapesh laws. Let us examine them closely.

“Their spellcaster has murdered a Dean of the College of Dimensional Studies for seemingly no reason and with no connection to the Scarlet Triad. When found, she should be executed immediately by the laws of the city.

“Their champion of Iomedae spoke of virtue and honor. Yet when bested in fair combat in the Grand Coliseum by the Gladiator Guild’s guildmaster Sand Claws, the creature vomited a torrent of demonic bees to consume her. Thousands witnessed it.

“I have in my possession a seemingly endless list of murders in several countries. Scarlet Triad agents slaughtered en masse. Property destroyed. Government officials coerced. And the common threads are a priest of Sarenrae and a mysterious genteel goblin assassin.

“They have not only killed Sand Claws. Aldane Zulran lies dead. The honorable Imperial Union of Breeders is not even present today as a result. They say I killed him. Yet who has been staying at his compound? The pattern here is obvious.

“It is clear this band of mercenaries wishes to do me and my organization harm. They have grievances. Yet when they entered the city of Katapesh, did they seek an audience with me? No. All saw their archer in the Grand Coliseum fire an arrow into the crowd at me, a clear assassination attempt.

“By the gods, look at them!” He points to the Spirit of Vengeance and Ogrin. “These are not forces of justice. They are monsters and murderers. They are agents of chaos and death.

“I have operated within Katapesh for decades now. Lawfully. I have provided protection and goods to support the guilds and commerce. I have profited and used those profits to strengthen the city. Never have I acted against the Pactmasters or their laws. Meanwhile, this band of monsters has done nothing but spit in the Pactmasters’ eyes. It cannot stand. Not only am I innocent of these claims, but I recommend these creatures be banished from our fair city immediately. Let the reign of chaos and murder end. Let the will of Abadar reign. Thank you.”

There is a moment of silence as everyone looks around the room.

It is Alager Jermell, head of the Farmers’ Union, who clears his throat and stands.

“You have NOT provided protection, Uri. The Farmers’ Union begged you for help when our caravans were ravaged outside the city. You did nothing. These outsiders risked their lives to end the threat that you ignored.

Hajir stands. “Sand Claws was a Scarlet Triad plant. She threatened to destroy the gladiators guild and no one loved her. The Skewer Rat will always be a hero within the ranks of the gladiators for killing her within the arena. The Skewer Rat was noble and pure.”

Hahcuss Hran stands as Alager sits. “They did not kill Aldane. It was a hired poisoner, the same poisoner that looked to kill the priest there. I did the diagnosis myself.”

Exavisu stands. “You operate within Katapesh laws and seek to protect us? To strength the guilds? How dare you, sir. My enslavement and auction reveal your lies!”

Huena Ilvos stands. “Hm. Evidence has come to light that perhaps the elven sorcerer did not in fact kill Dean Behfar. If the Scarlet Triad seeks to impugn the lawfulness of these outsiders, I would not include the incident at the College of Dimensional Studies. I have instructed the Zephyr Guard as such.”

Jelek Jaziman is whispering fiercely into Uri’s ear. Uri is watching the proceedings with a grim frown. Eventually he pushes Jelek away and silences him with a gesture.

Eventually, the Pactbroker Hashim ibn Sayyid stands and raises his hands for silence.

“The motion has been made. Should the Pactmasters formally censure the Scarlet Triad? Doing so will result in fines and the revocation of special protections. It is time to vote. Because of the severity of this motion, the Pactmasters require two-thirds majority, or eight votes of yes.”

Exavisu leans over to you, “This is unusual. I am less confident than I just was.”

“Uri Zandivar has made a counter-motion. If the current motion fails, we will consider the motion of banishing Jethro Vermillion and his colleagues.

“The Imperial Order of Breeders, not present, will abstain.”

“The Jewelers’ Guild votes yes.” Exavisu Kerndallion

“That is one vote in favor.”

“The Fleshmonger Federation votes no.” Sehtba al-Izora

“That is one vote in favor. One against.”

“The League Of Peshmongers abstains.” Treman “Spikeface” Ulkulratu

“The Carpenter’s Guild abstains.” Torbin Dooly

Alager Jermell makes a disgusted sound. “The Farmers’ Union votes yes.”

“That is two votes in favor. One against.”

“The Fraternal Order Of The Anvil votes yes.” Pardu Zelver

“That is three votes in favor. One against.”

“Um. Yes. The Gladiators’ Guild, uh, votes yes.” Hajir

“That is four votes in favor. One against.”

“The Order Of Alchemists And Potion Makers abstains.” Okztrok

“The Poison Makers’ Guild votes yes.” Hahcuss Hran.

“That is five votes in favor. One against.”

“The Guild Of Bakers And Butchers votes yes.” Stral looks fearfully at the Spirit of Vengeance.

“That is six votes in favor. One against.”

“The League Of Upright Barristers votes yes.” Huena Ilvos

“That is seven votes in favor. One against.”

All eyes swing to Sedrani Vashnarstill. For a moment she seems to savor the attention, the corner of her mouth twitching up. She looks at Obedience Fletcher with those unreadable, dead eyes as she speaks.

“The Guild Of Street Sweepers And Dung Carters votes yes.”

The Pactbroker looks back at the Pactmaster in attendance, who nods once.

“It is done. The motion passes. The Scarlet Triad is hereby censured. All special protections and boons extended to the Scarlet Triad are rescinded. The organization may still operate within the city, but attacks against them are against private citizens only.”

There is a brief time of pandemonium as everyone in the council hall begin talking at once. Exavisu, Alager, and others are calling for the Scarlet Triad to be held accountable for their failings and crimes. Jelek, several people in the gallery including the large Aspis Consortium representative, are yelling about injustice.

Uri Zandivar stands. “May I speak, Pactbroker?”

The Pactbroker calls for order and raises his hands. He holds this pose and, over the course of about a minute, everyone calms down and grows quiet. The Pactbroker nods to Uri.

Uri has a light sheen of sweat but is otherwise poised and confident. A small sneer crosses his face as he speaks.

“To say I am disappointed by today’s vote is an understatement. You all have been deceived by lawless bandits, erasing decades of support and services from the Scarlet Triad. The moral hypocrisy of many guildmasters here, peddling their own sinister wares, is difficult to stomach.

“So I am announcing the Scarlet Triad’s departure from the city of Katapesh, effective immediately. We will seek more enlightened and welcoming allies elsewhere.

“It will take us several days to move from the Red Pyramid, and with these murderous outlaws hunting us I fear for my and my organizations’ safety. In addition, I fear for the safety of my guests within the Red Pyramid, including Pactmaster Tsandarkon, who began staying with us two days’ hence.”

The Pactmaster in the back stands abruptly. Uri’s eyes do not leave the Pactmaster.

“I am sure everyone wishes us all the utmost safety in this transition given our decades of service to the city. Let us all get through our departure without incident or… bloodshed.”

Several guildmasters stand, outraged, and begin advancing on Uri and the Pactmaster in the back claps once. Everyone falls silent.

The Pactbroker looks back and then stands. “The Pactmasters command that no one intervene in the Scarlet Triad’s exit of the city for three days. Uri Zandivar has three days to leave the city and return all guests unharmed. It is law.”

Uri nods once and heads for the exit in a rush, Jelek Jaziman at his heels.

Chaos again erupts in the Council chamber.

“This meeting is adjourned!” The Pactbroker yells into the noise.

The Pactbroker makes a beeline for Jethro. “Gather your companions and follow me, please.”

He brings you to a back room, spacious but not lavish. There is the Pactmaster from the Council meeting and another, with the same robes but in a different color.

“You are in the presence of Pactmasters Angruul and Morvithus. The honor that they bestow upon–”

“There is no need for that, Hashim” one of the Pactmasters says. Its voice is otherworldly, synthesized, and non-binary.

“We have always known that Uri Zandivar was a snake, but his imprisonment of our colleague is an unexpected gambit. We learned of his disappearance just before the Council meeting and had suspicions but no proof. Now that we know the situation, we wish to enlist your aid. I believe our goals are in accord.

“The city is under order to leave the Scarlet Triad alone. We must stand back and give Uri his chance at escape. But you, as he so forcefully argued, are outsiders with a grudge against him.

“We ask that you raid the Red Pyramid. Now. Before their defenses are set. Do whatever damage you wish to the Scarlet Triad. Destroy it utterly if you wish. Kill Uri Zandivar if you wish. But recover Pactmaster Tsandarkon unharmed. Do this, and there will be no repercussions of your actions from the city and you will be well rewarded for your service.”

My Hero Brain

Tag: Role-playing

Portal Under the Stars, Chapter 2