Per Plunum: a game of making do

The premises of the Great Enchanter occupy a prominent, yet not fashionable, location in a moderately well-trafficked part of the town. The Great Enchanter's name is not bandied about on the lips of the vulgar, but thanks, in no small part, to the aid of certain mnemonic incantations, a general awareness of their presence and location permeates the populace, so that anyone in need of magical aid might find themselves wandering uncertaintly in that direction. The large brass plaque prominently fixed on the ancient, stout oaken door displays the name of the Great Enchanter in letters that are just large enough to bespeak confidence, yet not so large as to appear desperate; fancy enough to convey a hint of wonder, yet not so gaudy as to seem frivolous.

The Great Enchanter's door opens upon a modest reception room, with fine claw-footed wooden chairs where a customer may await attention. Reassuringly respectable landscapes hang upon the neat wallpaper; reassuringly mystical books and orbs line shelves behind the heavy wooden counter; a fine balance is struck between allaying the qualms of the hesitant first-time visitor, and delicately suggesting the proprietor's bona fides.

The customer is politely ushered into a consultation room.

For this client, a modest and businesslike office with little sign of arcane learning but the names of the gold-lettered tomes that line the shelves, a faint scent of incense and the ornate carvings on several locked cupboards. A plain blue rug keeps their feet from echoing on the wooden floorboards of the office. Sunlight streams through the windows, supported by the steady light of several lamps to give the atmosphere of any pleasant morning call. They take a seat in a comfortable armchair by the fire, and enjoy light refreshments while the Enchanter, or perhaps one of their assistants, clad in the garb of any respectable professional, delicately elicits from them the nature of their difficulty and - even more delicately - the depth of their purse.

For that client, a dim chamber redolent of magical learning, lit by the multicoloured flickering of myriad fat, dribbling candles. Shelves of gold-lettered tomes fill one wall; elsewhere heaps of mysterious paraphernalia threaten to flood from several open cupboards. Feet echo on the rune-etched floorboards of the chamber, and scrolls of strange Boreal writing hang from the walls. The heady scent of incense and less identifiable things waft through the air. Two chairs, swathed in cloths woven with mysterious symbols, are huddled by a fire over which a bronze cauldron bubbles with sweet-smelling liquid. A tray of exotic sweetmeats and spiced wine are placed in the outstretched claws of a gargoyle, while the Enchanter, or perhaps one of their assistants, garbed in outlandish outfits, interrogates them on the nature of their difficulty and - somewhat indirectly - the depth of their purse.

On the rare occasions that two clients visit in quick succession, they are often kept waiting. This is not, as they are informed, because the Great Enchanter must update their records, or meditate to clear their mind of distractions, or realign the lunar resonances of the chamber, but because locking or unlocking the cupboards, moving the rug, dispersing the scent of incense or dragging that wretched gargoyle in and out of the corner cupboard - to say nothing of changing outfits - are quite time-consuming. You'd know. It's your job.

It's a tough life being an apprentice. And the magical business isn't exactly booming.

Now, for the first time in weeks, someone has come to seek the aid of the Great Enchanter whose name is prominently displayed upon the brass plate outside your office! Fortune, or at least the ability to pay off the more pressing of your debts, beckons!

But the Great Enchanter is not there.

Incapacitated in a magical mishap? Drunk? Struck down with Dancing Fever? Engaged in a scandalous liaison at a weekend villa which you are strongly and sorcerously abdjured from interrupting? Dead? Just plain feckless?

But you really, really need the money.

And so you, the stout-hearted apprentices of the mage, must spring to the task for which your studies have in no way prepared you.

Don't panic!

It's not all bad. After all, you have spent months, perhaps years in the service of the Great Enchanter, who selected you for your undeniable arcane potential, and certainly not because you were cheap, found sleeping rough in the outhouse after running away from home, nearby and in need of a shilling when an old school rival showed up with a new apprentice, the child of a particularly persistent yet remote relative, hired as a bootboy but insist on calling yourself an apprentice, or you just wouldn't stop pestering them.

You know:

1. How to pack a very heavy rucksack really efficiently so you can carry all the mage's stuff as well as your own
2. Basic self-defence
3. How to evade a variety of adversaries
4. The fundamentals of business, as filtered through the idiosyncrasies of your mage
5. A little bit about theoretical magic
6. An assortment of minor incantations, mostly used for domestic chores and tiresome tasks the mage refuses to undertake.

You also know two genuine spells, which fall into one of the following categories:

1. The mage taught you this in a rare moment of determination, due to an urgent need to get something done, reluctance to risk taking part in a particular ritual, a brief flash of pedagogical responsibility, a drunken haze or an attempt to show up a rival. It is useful, perhaps impressive, though difficult to perform.
2. You learned this spell without the mage's sanction; perhaps you stole down to peruse a heavy tome of ancient wisdom, or accidentally broke a precious globe containing an imp who taught you the spell in thanks for its freedom, or peered through a crack in the floorboards and watched the mage conjuring. It is a potent, illicit spell which you had best not perform openly. You're pretty sure the chances of horrible death are quite low.

And of course, you have your own personal merits, (in)competencies and capabilities.

But more importantly, you really, really need the money.

Yes sir, madam, the Great Enchanter will take care of that right away.

In Brief: Random Wizard Generator for Mages

So I thought I'd knock up a quick Random Wizard Generator for use with Mages: the Awakening because why not? Also I needed to briefly rest my brain from paid work.

How it works:

1. First, roll 1d6 to determine the Puissance of the Wizard. This has no particular mechanical effect but may guide the GM in portraying the Wizard.
2. Roll 1d6 and read horizontally across the columns to determine the Tradition from which the Wizard comes. Each Tradition has its own thematic titles and names.
3. All future rolls are read vertically down the same column.
4. Roll 1d6 to determine the Title of the Wizard. Not all Traditions bestow Titles.
5. Roll 1d12 to determine the Name of the Wizard. These are of course only a sample of suitable names.
6. Roll 1d6 to determine the Epithet of the Wizard. Where a Tradition has two columns of Epithets, roll twice and combine the results into a single Epithet.

Names alternate as traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine in each table, but wizards do just as they please.

Tradition
Imperial Order of Wizardry	Conclave of the High		Guild of Truth Seekers	Adepts of the Sign		Thaumaturgical Cabal	New Wave Sorcerers
Title
the auspicious...						Ascendant	Crazy
the eminent...						Questor	Slim
the marvellous...						Inquisitor	Dead
the venerable...						Magister	Bad
the perspicacious...						Annunciator	Smoking
the ineffable...						Rubricator	Weird
Name
Peregrine	Actulf		Geraint	Guillaume		Amadeus	Jimmy
Andromeda	Ermengaud		Angharad	Annabelle		Cecilia	Alice
Tobermory	Frodwin		Hywel	Pascal		Tiberius	Fred
Desdemona	Osthryth		Branwen	Noemie		Paloma	Sue
Marmaduke	Hrodegang		Osian	Raoul		Valerian	Phil
Esmerelda	Gudrun		Myfanwy	Gabrielle		Cornelia	Zoe
Hildegard	Coenwulf		Caradog	Hilaire		Octavius	Ralph
Leonara	Osburh		Nerys	Yvonne		Aurea	Tina
Caspian	Walpurgis		Islwyn	Blanchard		Gnaeus	Ted
Jezebel	Linveig		Tegan	Lucienne		Marcella	May
Quasimodo	Aelfric		Tristan	Sylvestre		Agrippa	Neil
Serafina	Wynflaed		Eluned	Marceline		Eliana	Terri
Epithet
	Eagle	Rider	of the Ninth Eye	Midnight	Lightning		Haze
	Dragon	Whisperer	of the Four Gates	Scarlet	Flame		Susurrus
	Tiger	Caller	of the Thousand Stars	Emerald	Tempest		Fractal
	Serpent	Hunter	of the Fifth Wind	Silver	Blade		Vortex
	Phoenix	Master	of the Seven Syllables	Diamond	Anthem		Quasar
	Griffon	Slayer	of the Eight Secrets	Dusk	Wrath		Flux

For example, you might roll up the mighty archmage (Puissance 6) of the Imperial Tradition (1), The Perspicacious (5) Caspian (9), or the middling sorcerer (Puissance 3) of the Thaumaturgical Cabal (5), Questor (5) Eliana (12), or the feeble apprentice (Puissance 1) of the Conclave of the High, Osburh (8) Dragon (2) Slayer (6). Bit of an overreach there, Osburh...

If I get time I will write up a code snippet to handle this, but right now I can't spare the time.

The Merchants of Menace

A while ago I was riffing on some "write a game in [small number] words" things, and had an idea which I didn't quite get around to doing anything with.

In the interim I've spent several months unexpectedly house-hunting, moving house and coping with a huge uptick in day job that coincided with remarkably low not-being-off rates amongst my colleagues - no fault of theirs, just unfortunate - so haven't touched the blog much. Where possible I was focusing my limited energy and free time on higher priorities, like actually playing games, trying to finish a fairly major bit of scenario writing, and doing very undemanding things to try and restore some SAN.

Here's that game, such as it is. I'm not likely to do any more to it, so I might as well throw it out here.

The Merchants of Menace

Everyone knows merchants are fat and jolly, with comically-small ponies to ride, and inclined to throw up their hands in alarm when trouble brews. Well, except for the gaunt, gimlet-eyed merchants who smile thin-lipped humourless smiles as they close trapjaw deals with unfortunates, who lovingly tell their coins over again each night.

You are not those merchants.

You lope effortlessly through the city, eyes drinking in the opportunities. There is steel in your gaze and iron in your sinews, and when you shake hands you hear the heavenly clinking of gold spilling into your pockets. There are platinum rings on your fingers, set with gems, and when you drive them into the faces of unwary extortionists they leave marks like the claws of lions. You dine with princes at tables groaning with peacocks and wine, and before your silver tongue they pledge armies and sign laws. The world is your oyster, and at its heart is a pearl ripe for the harvest; a shame if it must die.

Broadly speaking this is a game of adventurers. Or rather, venturers. Merchant venturers, to be precise. You are cunning, tough and semi-piratical mercantile rogues who play the great game of profit and loss on the stage of the whole world. Thrones? An affectation best left to the weak-minded.

You are expected to indulge in fairly typical adventurer behaviour, with rather more striking of trade routes and rather less heroically hunting down monsters. Establishing a monster-hunting subsidiary company, now... that's business. Invading and plundering catacombs, on the other hand, looks like clear profit, and if a little hostile takeover is needed, you're not going to quibble at it.

Mechanics

It's a gimmicky system, because I was thinking about that sort of thing when I started writing it, and more importantly because it's thematic. The principle is that a lot of your activities revolve around money. Either you're directly using money to buy goods (or services, or people, or advantage), or you're throwing money at problems - or quite often, you're engaging in psychological conflict or outright games of chicken with other people, staking unspecified amounts of money on unspoken rules and trying to blink second.

That being so, the mechanics are all about money. Coins are your resource pool, your hit points and your resolution mechanic. Also, there are no shades of grey; you win, or you lose. The market is unforgiving.

Conflicts are resolved using coin flips. You establish the nature of the conflict, the approximate stakes in play, and hopefully roleplay to some extent how it's going down. Determine also whether it's an Open Conflict or a Secret Conflict, and whether they are Risking their resources. Then each of the two parties selects and flips a coin.

Each player character begins with the following Purse:

• 5 x 1p
• 3 x 2p
• 2 x 5p
• 1 x 10p

In an Open Conflict, both parties know how much their opponent is prepared to risk, and so they see what coin is being chosen. You can change your mind until you both eventually settle on a coin to use.

In a Closed Conflict (probably more common), you do not know what coin the other party will use until they are flipped.

If the conflict is likely to tax the character's resources, harm them physically, damage their social standing or face, or otherwise limit their ability to influence the world, it is considered Risking. For example, striking a deal, staring down a competitor or engaging in a fight are Risking. Convincing a bystander to give you information or looking for clues are not Risking.

The outcome is as follows:

• Heads beats tails
• Highest value coin wins ties
• Matching ties are treated as ties if possible; if that makes no sense, try again
• If Risking, the loser discards the losing coin to their Vault
• If a PC wins a Risking conflict, they regain their lowest-value coin from their Vault

Typically an entire conflict is resolved this way, but in some circumstances it may feel more appropriate to have some back-and-forth calling for multiple flips.

When there is no obvious opponent, but the outcome of an effort is uncertain, this is an Environmental Conflict. The GM chooses an appropriate difficulty, signified by the size of the coin. The GM never runs out of coins. For a particularly easy challenge, the GM can declare that the difficulty is 1p with ties going to the player.

• If the GM picks a 1p, with ties to the player, player wins 2/3 of the time
• If the GM picks a 1p, the player wins 1/2 with a 1p or 3/4 of the time with any other coin
• If the GM picks a 10p, the player wins 1/2 with 10p or 1/4 of the time with any other coin

Empty Purses

If a player runs out of coins, their resources are exhausted for now. They must rest and regroup before they can attempt anything else. If they are in danger or otherwise in a difficult situation, they may be captured, forced to retreat and so on. The player can still flip 1p against Environmental Conflicts; they can also flip 1p against standard Conflicts, but the best result they can attain is a tie (where this makes sense).

Characterisation

Each character can have one of the following advantages:

• Bottomless Pockets: the character has two additional 1p coins.
• High Stakes Gambler: whenever the character Risks a 10p, they can flip a bonus 2p.
• Dead Cat Bounce: when the character loses a Risked coin, they can choose to lose a higher-value coin instead. If they do, they still lose the Conflict but something works in their favour.
• Big Spender: the character can choose to Risk a coin in a challenge that doesn't require it. If they do, they can flip the coin twice and choose the better result, but must do so before seeing the opponent's result.

Each character selects three of the following traits at which they are particularly adept: Athletic, Dextrous, Hardy, Iron-Willed, Manipulative, Perceptive, Quick-Witted, Well-Informed. When they are relevant to an interaction, the character treats their primary coin (not any bonus coins) as having a value 1p higher.

Each character has one Persona that describes their outward character, and one Quirk that describes their behaviour, talents or physical nature. The player can devise these. When these factors are relevant in an interaction, the character can flip a bonus 1p.

Example character

Rogan Cordwainer is a Well-Informed, Hardy, Iron-Willed merchant with a Paternal Air and a Sophisticated Palate. He guards his resources carefully, giving him the Bottomless Pockets advantage. This makes him a solid, reliable character who weathers trouble well and generally feels in control of what's going on.

Ichabod Llewelyn is a Manipulative, Perceptive, Quick-Witted merchant with Light Fingers and an Eye for Detail. He always has another plan, giving him the Dead Cat Bounce advantage. Ichabod is erratic and takes a lot of risks (deception and outright theft tend to get you in trouble), but is good at minimising or avoiding the consequences.

Penelope Thornwick is an Athletic, Iron-Willed, Dextrous merchant with a Confidential Grin and a Love of Excitement. She is an adrenaline junkie who enjoys the rush of confrontation and challenge, giving her the High Stakes Gambler advantage. Overall, she's a gung-ho character who confidently throws herself at obstacles, and often succeeds on determination alone.

In Brief: Mage: the (other) Awakening

So you might recall a couple of posts where I devised new versions of games based purely on their titles, including one called Mage: the Awakening.

It's back. I read a "200-word RPG" thing that was going about a while ago, and decided to try my hand at it. So here's the 200-word version (title excluded).

Mages: the Awakening

You ended up at the remotest, loneliest branch of Lie Inn (No. 666) because you’re a bunch of losers. But nobody reckoned on magic. Now a wizards’ conference is on, and travelling sorcerers in need of lodging. Impossible coffees must be brewed, flying tomes kennelled, silken robes spotlessly dry-cleaned at 4am, wake-up calls made yesterday and of course, breakfast served in bed.

Characters: Pick ten descriptors. Assign 4/5/6 to Endurance, Morale & Employability.

Mechanic: Roll 2d6, +1d6 per keyword that helps. Pick two. One determines how Successful you are. One determines how Conciliating you are.

Troubleshooting

Find out what’s going wrong and fix it! Work together to survive.

Difficulty: 1 Trivial, 2 Simple, 3 Difficult, 4 Very Difficult, 5 Complicated (several), 6 Gordian (interconnected & several customers) – overcome with Successful plus roleplay.

Customer: Food, Sleep, Interpersonal, Facilities, Weather
or
Crisis: Spells, Behaviour, Paraphernalia, Familiars, Monsters

Wizards

Character: Confused, Irascible, Pompous, Spiteful, Affable, Businesslike – pick one.

Appearance: Handlebar Moustache, Enormous Beard, Twinkly Eyes, Dreamy Lashes, Sixpack, Piercings, Bald, Rainbow Hair, Bizarre Tattoos, Frills, Starry Robes, Pinstripes, Pyjamas, Corset and Stilettos, 9-Inch Nails, Withered, Shadowy, Faintly Glowing – pick two.

Touchiness: roll 1d6 to generate – overcome with Conciliating.

When things go badly, your stats drop. Don’t run out.

---

UPDATE: A supplementary Random Wizard Table is now also available on the blog, but this is a tool, not part of the core 200-word RPG.