Actual Play: Whartson meet the fleas

While our GM Nick was unable to run for us, I hijacked the Whartson Hall crew for a quick one-shot (which, inevitably, ran into three sessions). This scenario may be familiar to long-term readers. I really need to finish writing another one...

How will our heroes fare in the face of ancient horrors?* Can they save Mick Narsh, the mysteriously-missing author?** What terrifying abominations will they confront in the wilds of Dartmoor?*** Can they put an end to a malevolent presence that has haunted the land for centuries?****

Discover the truth for yourselves at Whartson Hall.

* oh they'll be FINE
** not so much "can" as "will"?
*** the answer will surprise you!
**** not as such, no

Inglenook's Lesser-Used Spells: for the would-be pheasant plucker

Your irregular extract from that invaluable compilation of the overlooked arcane.

It is, in general, potent and impressive magic that captures the popular imagination. It is a curious fact that both the largest group of spells, and the best-known, are those of middling power: dramatic and devastating enough that onlookers are thrilled and audiences lean close to catch the storyteller's words, yet within the reach of sufficient mages that they earn a sense of familiarity.

Little attention, in comparison, is given to the many useful cantrips developed through the ages. Yet their very humbleness means they are accessible to a far wider field than more potent spells, and thus significant to wider society. Unschooled hedge-wizards can use these tools in their researches, and priests not bestowed with divine might can yet call up the lesser blessings of their gods. Even to the artisan, the doctor, the farmer or the servant, a cantrip can be a talent within their grasp and capable of greatly aiding their livelihoods.

The spell I present today is one such cantrip. To the academic mage, even the travelling adventurer, it may seem of little value. Nevertheless, I have heard from the lips of hunters that it can make the difference between a successful hunt and an empty belly. Both gamekeepers and poaches, besides, have reported high regard for this cantrip in aiding the detection of their foes - the one to capture them, the other to evade them.

Forester's Warning

School transmutation; Level druid 0, hunter 0, ranger 1

CASTING

Casting Time 1 standard action
Components S, F (leaves or loose stones)

EFFECT

Rangetouch
Area 30-foot radius
Duration 8 hours
Saving Throw none Spell Resistance no

DESCRIPTION

This spell can only be cast in an area with fallen leaves, grass, undergrowth, gravel or similar loose material. At your silent command, fallen leaves become crisply dry, twigs grow fragile and undergrowth snags loudly against whatever passes by. Attempts to use Stealth while passing through the affected area incur a -5 penalty, which stacks with the normal penalties for using Stealth while moving. You aren't affected by the penalties from this spell. If you sleep within the affected area, the DC of your Perception checks increases by only half the normal amount while you sleep (typically +5). Rain negates the effects of this spell within 1 hour.

I've finally got round to adding a Ko-fi button to my blog, in the hopes of making some use of all the gaming material I produce - only a fraction of which I've ever posted here. If anyone does enjoy it, I'd really appreciate a coin or two. It makes it easier to spend time on this, rather than my day job or side gig as a proofreader.

Enwhartening

For reasons known only to themselves (if that), the good folks of Whartson Hall recently invited me to join one of their games.

If you aren't already familiar with the Whartson Hall podcast, it's definitely worth a look. It's not only one of the longest-running actual play podcasts, but also intensely relaxing to listen to. There's no attempt to be anything other than a group of people gaming with a recorder running, complete with awful puns (the best kind). They (we?) play in a variety of systems, especially ones that aren't covered by many of the podcasts out there - GURPS, Chill, Tekumel, Forgotten Futures, and other systems to liven things up.

Anyway - if for some reason you miss listening to me play in games, and don't already listen to Whartson Hall, hurry over and partake.

Inglenook's Lesser-Used Spells: for the worried waiter

Your irregular extract from that invaluable compilation of the overlooked arcane.

For those who cater to the tastes of others, the fickleness - nay, the mendacity! - of the customer is an eternal poltergeist: bursting forth unpredictably, often in the midst of what was otherwise a pleasant conversation; impossible to pinpoint, and extremely difficult to prove; unwelcome, noisy, frustratingly stubborn once roused; and of course, liable to begin hurling crockery at one's head. The chief distinction is that the application of a simple Persuivant's poltergeist parlay can compel such spirits to honestly set forth their complaints and how they might be remedied. For customers, alas, the host has no such convenient method.

A particular burden for many establishments, be they public house or the marble halls of an elven palace, comes in the form of over-demanding diners. No sooner is their bespoken dish set before them than they are overcome with dissatisfaction, envy, curmudgeonliness or base self-importance. Scorning the cook's sweated labours over a hot stove, the delicate ministrations of the pâtissier, the hours that may go into preparation of the dish specifically ordered by the customer, they instantly demand a change.

The dish is inadequately cooked, they proclaim. The sauce is too thick; the vegetables too cold; they did not expect fish in the Seafood Supreme. In the most flagrant cases, they resort even to the bare-faced "No, I ordered the venison". Deaf are they to the evidence, thrice-confirmed, of the waiter's little notebook, or even their more shamefaced relatives across the table.

The genesis of the following spell was undoubtedly in such a case. Nothing more can be ascertained; indeed, mages of the culinary inclination generally refuse even to discuss its existence, fearing rightly that publicity might only make customers more suspicious. I present it, however, to the discreet and discerning scholarly eye of the subscribers of this little publication.

Waiter’s Weal

School transmuation; Level bard 1, lackey 1; Servitude 1

CASTING

Casting Time 1 minute
Components S, M (a drop of saliva)

EFFECT

Rangetouch
Target one touched serving of food
Duration instantaneous
Saving Throw none Spell Resistance no

DESCRIPTION

This spell proves its value in restaurants and great houses, where diners insist that they actually ordered the veal flechettes. You invoke a meal that might have been, gradually transforming the chosen meal into another of the same or lesser cost. The meal must be one that could have been prepared by the chef with the ingredients available.

As part of the spell, you can choose the arrangement of the dish (though highly complex arrangements require a Craft [cuisine] check) as well as determining its temperature and freshness. Common condiments of negligible cost can be applied. The form of the dish’s container changes to suit the chosen meal.

It’s generally considered polite to go around the corner before casting this spell, giving the patrons at least the illusion of having been pandered to.

Inglenook's Lesser-Used Spells: for the humanoid-about-town

Your irregular extract from that invaluable compilation of the overlooked arcane.

Fionnuala Magwhite, a promising scholar, suffered the triple misfortunes of a large family, a position firmly in the middle tier of the country aristocracy, and a timid demeanour.

As a result, her studies and travels were constantly hampered by the obligation to attend tedious social events, and the determination of inebriated half-uncles, maiden aunts, waggish tradesmen, wagon drivers, acolytes of Ghreld the Librarian, evangelical clerics of Lord Sol, and adventurers who thoroughly overrated their personal attractiveness (and indeed, personal hygiene) to engage her in conversation.

Frustrated by this, she turned to magecraft, studying the intricacies of illusion and experimenting at length until she devised a spell to defend her from aural inconvenience. Magwhite's bore baffle has become an invaluable gambit in the back pocket of those who can't face small talk.

Magwhite’s Bore Baffle

School illusion [phantasm]; Level socialite 0, wizard 0

CASTING

Casting Time 1 full-round action
Components V ("No, please, go ahead, I'm sure we're all ears")

EFFECT

Range 15’ radius
Target creatures of your choice in range
Duration 10 min./level
Saving Throw Will disbelieves; Spell Resistance no

DESCRIPTION

You cloak yourself in a comforting illusion, giving those who observe the impression that you are listening attentively to their words and making appropriate responses. A successful Will saving throw allows them to perceive the situation normally (for example, that you are in fact completing a crossword while loudly humming the latest lute hits). If a creature fails their saving throw, conversation is not considered interaction for the purpose of granting an additional saving throw.

Rusty Mick's Off-Brand Specials: Mk II Flashfield

“It's really gear”
“Sometimes you just need that 'what the hell!?' edge”

Look, you don't go to Mick's for chips and irons and that workaday crap. The reason I trot down to that poky rat-hole every once in a while is for an edge. Mick's genius, if you wanna call it that, is laying his servo-hands on kit that no scummer nor rent-a-cop nor Mister Johnson ever considered you might have.

"Sure, any Corp surplus hut can flog you a cheap flakjack or some bonded armour. Maybe even a knockoff force bubble. Nobody's going to overlook that, are they? People come prepared.

Or you can spread some cred, book yourself in at an all-night chop-shop and get subdermals, if you don't mind never taking another jab of stimms. Subtle, maybe, but when Mister Johnson puts two barrels of las in your back from half a metre it's not making much difference.

This little chap may not look much, but it might just save your life. Just so long as you can turn the situation round in three seconds or less. Now, about that speedchip you didn't want..?"

DuttonTech Mk II 'Oops' Flashfield

This discreet device is a simple circular disc ten centimetres across, with a web of flexible filaments that stretch along the spine, easily covered by a simple shirt. It's wired to a hefty powerpack that can be worn as a belt, slipped under a chestplate or concealed in bulky shoulder pads. Though the pack wouldn't disgrace a lascannon, it's burned out with a single use, and that's barely enough for the needs of this power-hungry contingency plan.

The filament mesh serves as an antenna to detect incoming energy signals above a certain threshold, including lasweapons, plasma beams and most projectile fire. When triggered, the Flashfield discharges its powerpack to generate a dense energy field that protects the back, neck and back of the head. Though the field burns out in seconds, it buys the wearer enough time to react to a betrayal - or, more charitably, an enemy getting the drop on you.

Specs

(system-neutral and therefore vague)

The Mk II senses concentrated energy with enough velocity to cause serious harm - it would detect a bullet, energy blast, shrapnel or blade, but is typically set so a fall or punch wouldn't trigger it. Large objects that injure through sheer mass, rather than concentration of force, are usually ignored.

When triggered, the field is strong enough to resist small-arms fire and reduce the effect of typical longarms by 80%. Vibration alarms silently alert the wearer to the danger, and are strong enough to wake them. It lasts long enough for the wearer to:

1. notice the attack
2. move a few steps; or, drop and roll
3. draw and ready a weapon and take a shot; or, strike at an attacker; or, dive into cover

The device is good for a single use before burning out. Supplies are highly erratic.

---

Inspired by Whartson Hall's excellent Cyberpunk game. The old "politely invite them to go first and shoot them in the back" trick is established enough that I got to wondering why nobody seemed to have invented a countermeasure.

Inglenook's Lesser-Used Spells

A while ago I began compiling a list of, uh, alternative spells for Pathfinder, so basically for D&D.

Having been prompted by Big Jack Brass' recent tweets, I hereby present an extract from that inexplicably-unpublished manuscript, "Inglenook's Lesser-Used Spells"

• Flares
• Speak to Dead
• Burning Hams
• Disguise Elf
• Ear-Piercing Cream
• Enlarge Parson
• Really Obscure Poison
• Cockling Skull
• Reign of Frogs
• Enter Poe Singh-Han's Big Bees

(yes, I actually have rules for these, but I don't feel like editing them for the blog at 1am and I might try to make them into something publishable)

Cheap and Nasty 1: Meatgrinder

Cheap and Nasty 1

“Low-cost, effective tricks to keep your lair hero-free!”

Baffle Adventurers with this One Weird Trick Discovered by a Mum(my)

Have you a lair that is plagued with bothersome heroes? Can't take a nap without a howling barbarian trying to bisect your torso? Treasury depleted by the depredations of ravening rogues, money-grubbing mages, and tediously commercial Lawful Evil clerics capable of casting Resurrection for you? This irregular column aims to help you find affordable solutions to your PC Problems.

The Value of Velocity

Some spells are priced with the assumption that adversaries will, generally speaking, have time to regroup and change tactics after the effects first kick in. But what if we could compress those spells' effects into a few devastating seconds? More bang for your buck! Well, let us introduce you to our little friend, velocity.

Ensure that your impregnable fortress of doom features a large chimney, from which faint smoke occasionally rises at predictable intervals. Consider also providing a sizeable aqueduct and/or well with a strong current within. Each of these should be 10x10 feet squares and coated inside with slick oils, mossy weeds or other low-maintenance lubricants (permanent Grease is nice, as are a layer of bricks actually made of very sedentary oozes, or illusory bricks that stop existing once the climber realises they're illusory).

Have your untiring deathless spies watch constantly for intruders, pretending at all times not to notice them. For safety's sake invest in a few high-DC, low-profile detection spells as well.

As soon as heroic adventurers venture towards your fortress, send your psychic minions to the aforementioned chimney, aqueduct and well. Have them each cast Etheric Shards along the length of these convenient tubes. A 9th-level caster (minimum) will produce 90 feet of shards, or 18 x 5-foot cubes, lasting 9 hours.

Shortly after an adventurer has begun their journey along the enshardened tube, they should discover it is no longer possible to stop it due to the aforementioned lubricants. In addition, they should begin taking 1d8 damage per square of movement and making Reflex saves to avoid 1 stacking bleed damage (with a -4 penalty on those saves for forced movement, like... falling).

Even assuming a slowish fall or moderate current, the poor fool should pass through at least half the tube in the round when they begin taking damage, suffering 9d8 slashing damage and hopefully substantial bleed damage in a matter of seconds. The resulting sensation is, test subjects tell us, rather like sudenly finding oneself attacked by unseen piranhas.

Moreover, our hapless intruder should find they are now separated from the party healer by a considerable distance filled with invisible knives, and that the chorus of agonised shrieks they unleashed has somewhat deterred the healer from following. Should the healer nobly rush after, of course, we can admire their selfless devotion to duty, their disregard for personal danger, and the undoubtedly excellent Reflex saves for which divine casters are so widely renowned.

Of course, a mere 40 (average) slashing damage isn't enough to fell most mid-level adventurers - a full 80 may not do the trick - and it's always possible they will find a way to heal during their frantically-propelled journey of evisceration. This demonstrates the importance of a good follow-up; a simple trap is not enough. When our ragged, blood-soaked adversaries tumble from the mouth of the bladegullet and sprawl out into apparent safety, they must be allowed no repose.

Well, speaking of unseen piranhas, what lair is complete without a water-feature for visitors to admire, employees to contemplate, and passing adventurers to find themselves falling into out of chutes? With their keen sense of smell, our fishy friends will waste no time in hurrying to greet the new, delicious arrivals.

Now, it would not be sporting* to simply dump invaders into a deep pool of deadly carnivorous fish and watch them die. Quite unreasonable! One must give them a chance; and what better chance than a large, steel hatch set into the side of the pool and marked with the words "Emergency Exit"? Our hypothetical heroes need only keep their wits about them, spot the exit, evade the fish long enough to reach the door, and drag themselves into the all-steel chamber beyond.

*Efficient? Yes. Thigh-slappingly hilarious? Also yes. Aesthetically delightful? Certainly. But sporting? Not unless you have subscribed as a member of the Piranha Feast-Racing League, and an authorised referee is present to provide a detailed match report of your piscine proteges' prowess to the League for inclusion in the season's rankings. Further details below for interested readers. The PFRL is a member of the League In Favour of Cruel Sports.

As a reward for their impressive display of skill, they will find there a rack marked "Emergency: In case of injury" and filled with a number of bottles of coloured liquid. The labels are written rather small, and so any heroes wishing to peruse them will need to pick one up and peer in order to make out the words "Didn't your mother teach you not to take explosive runes from strangers?".

While there is admittedly a small setup cost in the construction of the steel detonation chamber, we feel this is an affordable addition to any up-and-coming lair. Factor in the stress-reduction benefits for your henchmen of a soothing fishtank to watch, and it will pay for itself many times over in the coming centuries.