Wednesday, 13 May 2020

Work in progress... Gutterspites

I've been working on a few things over the last few months - although most of my gaming energy goes into my Pathfinder campaign, now in its third year. The characters are, uh... 8th level. I should feel more guilty.

Here's a little taster of one of those projects, or rather a taster of a little slice of the project: devising some very, very minor supernatural beasties to afflict the ordinary population of a fantasy realm, the kind to produce folk remedies and the intervention of a village witch rather than a full-blown adventuring party. These are partly for flavour, partly as an alternative to rats and diseased goblins as an introductory adversary for beginner adventurers.

Just wanted to share a bit of this with you! There's still a lot to do on this new supplement but I'm enjoying it (but being sidetracked by the research).

If anyone's wondering about the supplements I already wrote - I'm now waiting to hear back from both Paizo and the Open Gaming Store about consignment, both having received my application form and gone radio silent. Did I put explosive runes on them by accident?

Gutterspite

Imps are often held to be the lowliest of fiends, but even lesser entities are responsible for much misery around the world. Gutterspites are barely-conscious bundles of malevolence that prey on whatever unfortunate mortals they can find. Too weak to inflict serious harm, they settle for inflicting unhappiness, pain and ill-luck, feeding greedily on the misery of their victims.

Gutterspites have the following traits unless otherwise noted:

Paltry Malevolence (Ex): Gutterspites are such pathetic fiends that even a hint of divine power is enough to annihilate them. Any devout follower can use a holy symbol to make a touch attack against a gutterspite. A successful attack with a symbol of a non-evil faith deals 1d6 damage, bypassing their damage reduction. An unholy symbol instead makes a gutterspite sickened and frightened for 1 minute. Unlike most other fiends, a gutterspite’s attacks do not count as evil for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.

Shun Hallows (Ex): Gutterspites cannot enter an area protected by a consecrate or desecrate spell. If a holy symbol is displayed in a door or window, a gutterspite must succeed at a DC 15 Will saving throw to pass through the opening or any other opening within 20 feet of it.

Minor Telepathy (Su): A gutterspite has a limited form of telepathy, allowing it to convey simple concepts or emotions to other creatures that possess telepathy.

Baleful Gutterspite

The long, feathery tail of this creature could almost be beautiful, if it weren’t for its sickly colouration and the dull malice in its three bone-white eyes. Four crooked arms clasp greedily at a dropped coin.

Baleful Gutterspite

CR 1/8

XP 50

NE Diminutive outsider (evil, gutterspite)

Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception –2

DEFENCE

AC 16, touch 16, flat-footed 14 (+2 Dexterity, +4 size)

hp 4 (1d10–1)

Fort +2, Ref +4, Will –2

DR 3/cold iron, silver or good; Resist acid 3, cold 3, electricity 3, fire 3

Weaknesses paltry malevolence, shun hallows

OFFENSE

Speed 20 feet

Melee tail +7 melee (1 nonlethal plus fatewrack)

Space 1 ft., Reach 0 ft. (5 ft. with tail)

Spell-like abilities (CL 1st; concentration +1)

1/hour–lightfingers (DC 10, drop item only)

STATISTICS

Str 3, Dex 14, Con 8, Int 2, Wis 6, Cha 10

Base Atk +1; CMB –7; CMD 2

Feats Improved Initiative, Weapon FinesseB

Skills Perception +2, Sleight of Hand +6, Stealth +14

Languages minor telepathy 10 ft.

ECOLOGY

Environment any

Organization solitary

Treasure none

Description Resembling a four-armed squirrel with a third eye in place of a mouth, baleful gutterspites lurk amongst furniture, clothing and rafters, waiting for an opportunity to afflict a victim with bad luck. They relish the scent of failure and frustration, and are the bane of artisans and cooks, who find simple tasks suddenly eluding them.

Fatewrack (Su): A creature struck by a baleful gutterspite’s feathery tail is subject to misfortune. For the following 24 hours, the creature can’t take 10 on any skill checks, and a natural 1 on a skill check always fails as though it were a critical miss on an attack roll or saving throw. This also affects the result of taking 20.

Feather Touch (Ex): The incredible softness of a baleful gutterspite’s tail means a creature doesn’t automatically become aware when struck. The baleful gutterspite can attempt a Sleight of Hand check to conceal the attack, opposed by the victim’s Perception.

Thursday, 16 April 2020

Rusty Mick's Off-Brand Specials: the Double-(Barrelled)-Cross

“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.

"Holdout gun? Always a solid option. Not always easy to get to when things turn sour, mind. The trouble is, turning coat only takes a moment and typically they've got you bang to rights.

What's tricky is, your average betrayal isn't a spur-of-the-moment thing; it's a set-up. Vehicles get hacked, scripts overwritten. Tools get sabotaged. And of course, that old classic - ammo gets swapped out.

Only a handful of these boys got made before the company wiped in the '13 Unpleasantness. Never on the open market, but I managed to lay my hands on this beauty. Someone pulls that smirk on you mid-run? You don't need to worry what's in the magazine before you let 'em have it."

Rakotoarisoa Industries 'You Bastard' Baobab++

This ultra-rare prototype shotgun was designed for the truly discerning (well, paranoid) runner. Superficially indistinguishable from the Baobab - itself a clone of popular Indonesian models - its additional features justify an eye-watering price tag. Discreet reinforcing mesh massively enhances the weapon's resilience, allowing it to survive low-powered direct hits and use as an impromptu shield without impeding its firing capabilities. The chamber and barrel are hardened and shaped to redirect explosive force, reducing the chance of a fatal misfire - accidental or otherwise. More importantly, its heavy frame conceals an emergency secondary firing mode driven by magnetic pulse. If the owner has sudden doubts about their ammunition, a simple flick of the finger activates the backup mode, allowing sections of the barrel to be launched as spinning projectiles. Though the range is short, the ammunition very limited and the lethality low, it can still take down an unprepared traitor or buy time to reach cover and draw a backup weapon.

The barrel's construction divides it into a small number of sections cunningly fitted together. When one is launched, the magnetic impulse system adjusts itself to select the next section for firing. Fitting new barrels is time-consuming and costly, but worth the price.

Specs

(system-neutral and therefore vague)

The Baobab++ functions as a normal shotgun when firing its main ammunition. Its reinforcement reduces the damage it suffers when used to parry attacks or the chance of it breaking when struck.

The adapted chamber and barrel reduce the chance of a misfire occurring naturally. If tampered ammunition is fired, it is only half as effective as normal in damaging the weapon.

Switching to the secondary firing mode is a quick and easy matter: treat this as equivalent to flicking a safety or ammo selector. In this mode, any chambered ammunition is ignored entirely (bypassing the chance of a misfire). The magnetic pulse fires sections of steel barrel with effect equivalent to a heavy handgun (including range and rate of fire). The razored edges reduce the effectiveness of soft armour but otherwise rely on speed and impact. Each barrel provides ammunition for four shots. Once any barrel segments have been fired, the accuracy and lethality of the standard firing mode for that barrel is decreased by a cumulative 20%.

The Baobab++'s sturdy construction allows it to be wielded as an effective club. Once the barrels have been fired off, the exposed electrical elements can deliver any remaining charge as a taser.

The rarity and subtle design of the Baobab++ make it extremely difficult to distinguish these additional features from any mundane shotgun of its type simply by examination. Appropriate scanning tech can identify the presence of the battery.

A Baobab++ weighs twice as much as a normal shotgun of its type due to its construction and battery requirements. Replacing the barrels after use takes approximately one hour with appropriate tools.

Thursday, 6 February 2020

Shameless Self-Promotion: Inglenook's Book Launch

As some of you may recall, I've been putting together some of my musings on the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game* in human-readable** form, for those of you who enjoy that sort of thing. I've compiled some of the ideas into, currently, three short PDFs and I've gone so far as to get a compatibility license from Paizo. I'm posting a few samples below.

I'm still waiting to find out whether Paizo will sell the PDFs through their website, so in the meanwhile I may as well plug them here.

Due to budgetary constraints (which is to say, being skint), if you'd like a copy of the actual PDFs, I have to ask for a contribution. You can give me a donation on Ko-fi and leave a private message on how to contact you, or email 123456789librariansandleviathans#gmail.com (remove the numbers and stick an @ instead of the #) to look into, oh, Paypal or something.

What are these pamphlets, these flimsy rags, you may be wondering? Probably not. Let me enlighten you, either way. The three PDFs I've completed so far are the work of our old friend Inglenook, occasional mage. They are much along the lines of those three posts, with a mixture of thematic cantrips that probably aren't much use in the face of frothing orcs, and some quite useful spells.

The PDFs are bookmarked, not locked for editing (so you can add as many of your own bookmarks as you want) and free of DRM.

Inglenook's Wind and Weather

Twelve pages, containing sixteen spells relating to weather effects. Make more use of the weather rules: let giants blow away in the breeze, read in the middle of a typhoon, and awe your enemies with dramatically-appropriate supernatural weather. Not particularly silly.

Inglenook's False Friends

Have you been mis-sold magical incantations, scrolls, spellbooks or eldritch initiations into blasphemous rites? Embarrass yourself with belated, public realisations that you learned the wrong spell? Avoid the pitfalls of overeagerness, scrawly handwriting and gullibility with this handy guide to spells that aren't the spell you're actually looking for. Thirty misleading spells, often silly, but some of them potentially useful nonetheless. When you need to temporarily hide a servant, lecture the undead or slightly alter your trousers, this is the place to look.

Inglenook's Bloodlines of Lesser Fame

As Inglenook says: "Sorcerers! Empowered by the inhuman blood of their ancestors, many of these mortals manifest great heroism – or villainy. They possess incredible strength and hardiness, wield fearsome magical power, or display the blessings of gods and fiends. Such bloodlines are whispered by bards and traced reverently by sages, and their potent influence sings through the generations.... These are not those bloodlines."

Not especially serious, but completely useable in a serious campaign with the right approach. Were your ancestors thrown in prison repeatedly? Good at haggling? Subordinate? Well sus? This book is for you! Seven new bloodlines (plus three wildblooded variants).

*as the license states, "You may refer to our game using the phrase "The Pathfinder Roleplaying Game" (never just "Pathfinder" or "The Pathfinder RPG")." Not going to stick to that for normal posts, but since this is basically advertising I probably should.

** elf-readable, dwarf-readable and goblin-readable forms are not expected until early 2020 due to budgetary constraints

Sunday, 22 December 2019

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

Friday, 29 November 2019

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.

Friday, 4 October 2019

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.

Monday, 29 July 2019

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.

Tuesday, 18 June 2019

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.

Tuesday, 26 February 2019

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.

Wednesday, 13 February 2019

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)

Saturday, 2 February 2019

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.

Tuesday, 24 April 2018

Bedrolls and Backpacks

This post is the fault of Rich at Swordnut Radio.

Okay, I like a challenge. And I have a mind like a weasel.

Bedrolls

Roll up the bedroll. Place it in your actual bed, giving the impression that you are sound asleep. This is useful both when an assassin's quarrel pins it to the bedframe through what would, in other circumstances, have been your heart, and when a servant peers through the secret peephole to reassure the king that yes, you are respectably abed, and definitely not treasonously committing hanky-panky with his husband.

Use the bedroll to guard against sharp points: place it over a wall to protect you from spikes or glass shards, or hold it in front of you while leaping through a window without opening it first.

Use the bedroll as emergency quick-release padding when falling onto abrasive surfaces, such as when hurling yourself from a third-floor window to escape an enraged monarch.

Wrap it around your arms while facing down a wolf or training a warhound. Many smallish animals will struggle to get through that. Especially useful for low-level mages in cat-dense areas.

While travelling through the desert, saturate the bedroll when you find an oasis. Drape the soaking bedroll over you to help cool you by evaporation. Before departing, roll it and place in your waxed canvas backpack, so it can serve as an improvised water-carrier.

With just a bit of rope, transform it into an inadequate camel-saddle, still superior to trying to sit directly on the accursed creature.

Flick your wrist to unfurl the bedroll over a smallish mass of vipers, scorpions or similar unpleasantness, buying yourself a moment to rush across unmolested.

Place the rolled-up bedroll on your head and wrap it in bright fabric. Tell the people of the next town that you are a Tzeetvolf, one of the great nobles of the distant land of Gnasht, on an important diplomatic mission to the king, but temporarily impecunious after your caravan was caught in a storm. Point to your improbable headgear as confirmation that you must be some kind of foreigner, because everyone knows foreigners dress funny.

Fold the bedroll the other way to form a draught excluder in the cheap tavern room where you are hiding from the royal guard, or the cramped cabin of the ship you were forced to seek passage on in your attempts to flee the country. Bonus: also keeps out many kinds of vermin, especially if treated with camphor.

Practice slipping the bedroll from atop your backpack and unrolling it in a single smooth movement. This can serve to impede and temporarily blind attackers, deflect light weaponry or capture small animals.

Soak the bedroll in oil and place it in a bottleneck, or amongst a large stretch of dry vegetation. When the troll conjured by the king's archwizard steps unwittingly onto it, simply toss your flaming torch to engulf the creature in fire.

Soak the bedroll in holy water before sleeping in a location you believe to be frequented by the undead, or when harried by pesky minor demons summoned by the king's deputy archwizard.

Wedge a corner of the bedroll under a door to prevent interruption during important diplomatic meetings, such as a highly personal rendezvous with the king's husband.

Wrap fragile items, such as expensive china, magical potions or stolen crowns, to protect them from the shock of rough journeys.

Form a haybox by wrapping your hot food tightly, allowing you to cook meals while you hasten cross-country in search of a haven from royal wrath.

Keep hot items hot by using it as insulation.

Keep cold items cold (because that's also what insulation does).

Dip the bedroll in delicious beef dripping and use it to distract wild dogs; leave it behind as a decoy for bloodhounds.

Dip the bedroll in delicious chocolate and use it to distract elves.

Dip the bedroll in soup and chew it in a desperate attempt to stave off the agonising pangs of hunger.

Cut a hole in the centre of the bedroll and transform it into a useful poncho, keeping off the rain as you trudge through the backwoods to avoid detection by the king's bounty hunters.

Use the bedroll as an improvised sledge to speed down the snowy slopes of the Heavenclutch Mountains, evading the howling ice-ogres that pursue you.

Look, we know how it is. Adventuring can be a lonely occupation. Six months in the wilds, constantly pursued by a variety of slavering beasts and amoral humanoids, plus the occasional diabolical monstrosity; never knowing the touch of a lover, inebriated colleague, courtesan, sailor, love golem, Margrek's Illusory Bedmate, affectionate sheep, doppelganger, siren, thinly-disguised bilefiend, really persuasive enchanted staff, on-again-off-again nemesis or Blanket of Really Good Massages. Your bedroll doesn't judge.

Slice the bedroll into thin strips to use as improvised bonds for captives, reins for the horse you stole from a pursuing bounty hunter, or rope to escape your top-floor room when you hear the stealthy, padding footsteps of a royal assassin approaching.

Conceal an assortment of bladed objects from unenthusiastic guards.

Inscribe important messages on the bedroll before rolling it up.

Cover one side of the bedroll with silver foil. This will serve as a useful sunscreen against the baking heat of the Dying Sands, where only the foolish and desperate venture.

Also, when the mischievous winds and cunning pathways of the Dying Sands lead you inevitably to the Tower of Many Bones, you can whip the bedroll in front of you as you turn round at the sound of skittering claws, slaying the foul gorgon with its own baleful image.

Clasping the bedroll in one hand at your waist, allow it to discreetly unroll as you step back from your onrushing adversary; then, as her foot lands upon it, seize it with both hands and yank sharply upwards, tipping her backward and buying a moment's respite. Use that moment to hurl the bedroll over your adversary's face while applying blade repeatedly to kidneys.

Before inserting your hand into suspiciously-sized openings in a ruin, temple or vault, roll up a bit of the bedroll and insert that instead.

Use a pitchfork to hold up the bedroll a short distance from your body before racing through the Hall of Slaughter. The padded fabric will catch and entangle the barrage of poison-tipped darts that shower you, allowing you to move far faster than the members of the palace household trying to weave their way between pressure plates.

Wrap your bedroll around the tip of a pole and soak it with oil. Use it as a durable torch, anti-troll countermeasure or festive outdoor lighting.

Eke out meagre provisions with small, chewy chunks of bedroll. Few companions will ask too many questions about the precise origin of the ingredients in their stew, for fear you will tell them.

Tie and soak the bedroll, the excess weight giving you a functional improvised club. Insert a walking stick or other pole for easier wielding. Not much cop in most situations, but useful against small foes and wild animals that can be readily scared off.

Use a small measure of ice magic to freeze the sodden bedroll into a substantial club. When you are later captured by the watch, feign outrage and point out that you could not possibly have bludgeoned anyone to death; all you have is a bedroll and a backpack.

Backpacks

Carry your familiar, pet, or a small mystical child you have rescued from a peculiar imprisonment but whose beatific smile and cherubic features are frankly too nauseating to keep on display.

Fill the backpack with stones to use as a counterweight on a pulley or lift mechanism, such as when assisting the king's husband to lower himself safely from a high tower.

Fill the backpack with sand and swap it with a valuable archaeological artefact you plan to steal, hoping to prevent the triggering of a weight-sensitive trap mechanism. Tip: ensure the item you plan to steal weighs about as much as a backpack full of sand.

Fill the backpack with feathers and put it on backwards, forming surprisingly-effective armour against light weaponry and animal attacks. Works particularly well if you have a waist-high wall or window to defend.

Put the backpack over your head to conceal your hideous features, you repulsive cretin.

Store large and thoroughly dull books in the backpack. This assists your disguise as a travelling bore - not only does it add verisimilitude, but few people will wish to question you closely. Moreover, the books will provide a layer of protection against the arrows and poisoned knives of the royal assassins.

Put a helmet on top of the backpack and place it by a window or wall, lit from behind, to give the impression of a sentry.

Put many scorpions inside the backpack, and drop it out of the window to create a distraction.

Transport other, smaller backpacks.

Write important notes on the inside of the backpack, which few people will bother to check for paperwork.

Leave the backpack prominently in your room, secured with a shiny padlock which is not in fact closed. Fill it with rubbish, on top of which you place an envelope sealed with an important official's name. Inside the envelope, place a hastily-scrawled letter with an explosive runes or horrific curse amongst its lines.

Put heavy objects inside the backpack and practice wielding it as an improvised weapon.

Completely waterproof the backpack, and use it to transport water. When travelling to the sea-realms to seek aid against the murderous vengeance of the king, use it to transport air instead.

Place the backpack over a slain gorgon's head before opening your eyes, allowing you to look about you without fear. If you tie the strings tightly before severing its neck, on inverting the backpack the head should fall neatly inside.

Pretend the backpack contains incredibly valuable items you are secretly transporting on behalf of the Wizards' Guild, and not the head of a gorgon. When the ruffians who have been watching you ambush you and demand you hand it over, do so while screwing your eyes shut in apparent fear. Bandits often carry valuable items stolen from previous victims. Protip: Practice locating a swede, pumpkin or leather football by sound alone and replacing it in a backpack!

Determine which pocket of your backpack is the most accessible to someone else when worn. Encourage hornets to construct a nest in that pocket.

Tie a stout, camouflaged rope to your backpack and hurl it onto the parapet of your enemy's castle. When a bemused guard picks it up, heave with all your might; most will reflexively tighten their grip, allowing you to yank them bodily from the parapet.

Balance your adventuring backpack atop a door, so that the guard passing through on a routine patrol is struck atop the head and stunned by the weight of copper coins and damaged goblin armour within.

Cut a hole in the back of your backpack and wear it at all times, concealing the leathery wings you have sprouted through unwise negotiations with the Order of Damnation.

For a quick disguise, throw on an oversized coat on top of your backpack, and claim to be a hunchback. Works best if nobody sees you do it.

Balance a waxed backpack atop your head to keep off the rain.

After a regrettable encounter with Hesidian Rage-Moths, use your bush knife and backpack to construct rudimentary clothing in order to enter the city without summary arrest for public indecency.

Insist on publicly and fairly dividing up the loot from your latest immoral escapades. Patiently pour the shares, one handful at a time, into an appropriate number of backpacks. Do not inform your colleagues that you have employed hobbits to crouch beneath the table, reaching into the backpacks through cunning holes to extract the gems and replace them with lumps of worthless glass.

Place a cannonball inside a backpack, enchanting it with a spell of weightlessness, and pour a variety of more ordinary goods atop it. Encourage thieves or enemies to make off with it, then dismiss the enchantment. Dispose of them at your leisure.

Conceal an extradimensional space within a backpack, and place low-level contraband in the bag itself. Arrange for it to be confiscated by the guard. After a prearranged interval, have the thief emerge from the aforementioned extradimensional space, steal everything valuable within the guard's vaults, and put them inside the extradimensional space, before breaking out. Have the bard turn up disguised as an embarrassed noble and pay a bribe to retrieve the barely-illegal backpack.

Hire a small warehouse. Fill it with backpacks. Leave a clipboard on a shelf, with a purchase order for 10,000 mimic eggs. Leave a single boot and a broken dagger in a pile of chicken blood near a shelf, spattering that also with blood. Cast magic mouth on a large but random selection of bags, each time enchanting them with a very occasional snore, each one different. Capture the PCs, and have them wake up tied together near the clipboard.

Tuesday, 27 February 2018

Call of Cthulhu: Rigid Air actual play

A while ago I ran a scenario from the Fearful Passages book for my gaming group. I'd initially been a bit hesitant about the scenario as written, for reasons you'll find here.

After much thought, I'd made some changes to the scenario and run it for some friends during a weekend visit. The session went pretty well, much fun was had by all, and the players made a few suggestions. I incorporated them as best I could for this second attempt.

This second attempt I recorded and have finally got around to editing down. I'll discuss the changes I made in a future post; for now I just want to get these episodes up at last.

You can find the episodes at this Archive.org page.

Sunday, 19 November 2017

Trail of Cthulhu: The Fallen World from YSDC Games Day 2017

The annual Yog-Sothoth.com (YSDC) Games Day took place in October, and I was lucky enough to make it for the third time. As always, it was a great, relaxing weekend full of regrettably short conversations, delicious food, and of course, games!

I managed to get a couple of recordings, and one partial recording, and will put them up here as I finish editing them. This does mean that, for the first time, these are not my own gaming group!

Librarians & Leviathans Presents: Steve Dempsey's The Fallen World

So for clarity's sake, I'm going to try to remember to use "Librarians & Leviathans Presents" when flagging up situations like this, just to avoid confusion.

The Wood of the Self-Murderers

Fearful Symmetries is a campaign for Trail of Cthulhu inspired by William Blake. The characters are caught up in an occult war and must use the double edged sword of magical power to reunite Albion, split asunder by time and the Mythos. The campaign will soon be published by Pelgrane Press, along with The Book of the New Jerusalem, a gazatteer of English folklore locations and people that takes up where The Book of the Smoke left off.

Steve Dempsey, the keeper for this scenario, has been running his Fearful Symmetries campaign since May 2016, achieving 61 sessions so far. This scenario, The Fallen World, was improvised by Steve at the convention. The characters are members of the Ordnance Geology Survey (Section D). Their job is to contain and clean up suspected supernatural events, and provide a suitable mundane explanation. They have been brought in to clear up in Upper and Lower Quinton in Southern Warwickshire where a number of people have suddenly died - possibly something to do with aforementioned Fearful Symmetries campaign.

Episode 1 is now available on my usual spot in the Internet Archive*. More to follow.

*okay, yes, there's a typo in the URL. That's actually there. Due to technical problems at Archive.org, I made four attempts over several days to get this uploaded, and apparently lost the second L in LnL during repeatedly typing in all the same metadata T_T I don't think it's possible to do anything about it though. I may at some point beg an admin to move it for consistency.

Links here for quick and easy access to mp4 files, others available on Archive.org. EDIT: All episodes now up!

Monday, 16 October 2017

Upon their backs to bite 'em: scenario playtest 2

When I said "limited blogging" I didn't realise it was going to be quite this limited...

Work, writing projects (far, far too many of them, it's a really bad habit of mine), being in quite a few games, and repeatedly but not very seriously being ill did not give many opportunities for thinking about games recently. Also, I haven't had as many opportunities to catch up with podcasts that give me ideas, or talk to the people who traditionally cause me to blog.

This latest post happens because I am finally ill enough to take a week off work, and have sporadically managed to do a spot of audio editing. Here, then, I present... well, not exactly new content, because this scenario appeared before; but it's a very, very different playthrough.

This is the second playtest of my modern-day Call of Cthulhu scenario Upon their backs to bite 'em.

Picture is actually of Coleford as I can't find any good ones of the right location, but never mind. You get the idea.

If you want a general link to choose a filetype of your choice, you can head on over to the Archive.org project page to comb through the options.

If you're happy to just grab an .m4a, here are the episodes:

Saturday, 26 August 2017

Bradford Comic Con and Kate Ashwin

A couple of months ago, a friend of mine mentioned that she was going to be participating in Bradford Literature Festival Comic Con, which was the first time I'd heard that such a thing existed. But I'd been planning to meet up with her for about ten years, so the chance to do it so conveniently wasn't something I wanted to pass up. And, to my surprise, I actually managed it!

The festival stretches over a couple of weeks, but I could only make it down for one day, which was the 1st of July. I hopped on the train, which was completely chocker, making my inability to obtain a cuppa for the journey less of an issue because there's no way I'd have been able to drink one. Never mind, I was alright sat on the floor with my ebook.

I disembarked in Bradford and, thanks to Google Maps, managed to get to the event with minimal hassle. It's my first trip as far as I can remember. I didn't have time to get a great look around, but I quite liked the bits of the city I saw. It wasn't far to walk to the University, where the Comic Con was taking place, along with some of the discussions. Outside the University were handy signs and quite a few volunteers in distinctive shirts who quickly pointed me where I needed to be.

I wandered inside and soon managed to find the hall where the exhibitors were. It's the first year for the Comic Con part of the Festival, so there were only around ten hardy souls, most of them from fairly nearby.

I went round all of the stalls, chatting to most of the artists and finding out a bit about their work. They were very nice and approachable, even the very nervous ones. I grabbed some flyers and things with their information. Primarily, though, I was there to meet Kate, the author of the delightful Widdershins.

Unfortunately my own photos didn't come out very well for some reason; a few of the more acceptable ones are below.

Kate's own stand; Kate not featured.

The comics were in what seems to be the canteen; there was plenty of space, although it was warm even in British weather and I suspect it would get pretty noisy with a better crowd.

Two members of Madius Comics, a group based around Leeds. They have an impressive array of short, varied comics by various artists. They are also super enthusiastic and friendly.

View down the aisles.

This stall was I think run by Highgreen Dawn, whose work includes Slug Cafe. The author on the stand was lovely, but very shy, so didn't want to be in this picture.

I realise some people may take issue with the amount of comics I bought at this event, but in my defence, there were very few others available and my bags were pretty full.

I also attended a couple of very interesting panels themed around the Thousand and One Nights, which I'll discuss later.

Kate was kind enough to give a short interview about her work, which you can now find on Archive.org - it's raw, unedited audio because honestly there didn't seem much wrong with it. Sorry about the background noise, but we were recording in the hall itself and my recorder isn't particularly discriminating. I was hoping to perhaps do some more interviews, but the timing didn't work out.

Friendship aside, Kate is an honestly lovely person, an entertaining and compelling storyteller, and an evocative artist who now draws for The Phoenix amongst an array of other projects, including editing the highly popular Cautionary Fables and Fairytales series with Kel McDonald.

For anyone interested in adventure stories and non-cringeworthy Victorian-era magic that isn't set in London for a change, I highly recommend you check out Widdershins. I definitely plan to take a stab at an RPG version one day.

Quiet as the comics side was, I had a good time browsing (and buying) the offerings, chatting with a lot of lovely artists, and attending sessions.

Thursday, 6 April 2017

FYI: limited blogging

This has never been a very reliable blog, so I don't have a schedule to break. Just wanted to mention that posts and responses are likely to be patchy for a while, as I'm adjusting to new medication and it's a constant battle to stay awake. Writing about games is therefore taking a back seat to keeping my job and consuming organic matter. Oh, and actually playing games.

If you're missing my blog, first off thanks!, secondly please let me know what it was you liked and maybe I can write more of it in future. Thirdly, go and check out Refereeing and Reflection, Improvised Radio Theatre with Dice, Reviews from R'lyeh, and feel free to post further suggestions for gaming-relevant blogs and sites in the comments.

(I say that with some trepidation - will attempt to whack any spam-moles ASAP)

Sunday, 2 April 2017

Upon their backs to bite 'em: scenario playtest 1

About a year ago I was inspired by a Twitter post (coupled with a convenient fever that left me both off work and mildly delirious) to whip up a rather silly scenario for Call of Cthulhu, or at least something approximating Call of Cthulhu (claims to Lovecraftianness are somewhat tenuous, I'll admit).

Last weekend my usual gaming session was cancelled, so I threw out an offer to run a one-shot for any remaining gamers. As it happened only one other person showed up, which is normally death to RPGs, but as it happens my scenario is fairly amenable to solo play. So, we decided to give it a spin.

The scenario was a success in the end, with Nathan heroically resolving the mystery, putting an end to supernatural shenanigans, and laying the groundwork for the destruction of the cult. Somehow he achieved this without a scratch nor a single point of SAN loss. Since when were players sensible?

Anyway, the recording of the playtest session is now up on Archive.org for anyone who cares to listen - though obviously spoilers abound. I hope to do further playtests soon; the scenario worked out better than I'd expected.

Sunday, 19 February 2017

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.

Saturday, 18 February 2017

Ogham II: Ogham Strikes Back

A little while ago, I happened to get involved with the creation of a sinister Lovecraftian artefact.

I had a few candidate stones gathered at the same time, and Shannon carelessly left a comment which includes the words "Man, I want one now. :)"

Well, I'd already got the Ogham and the design pretty much down. I didn't have any inspiration for a particularly different carving, so I stuck with the original. I vaguely like the idea of doing some others at some point though. I actually did this project last summer, but with one thing and many others, I haven't got round to writing it up before.

As you can see, I felt this artefact really called for a suspicious dark organic stain. Well, that's easy enough.

I actually used a hyper-strong solution of coffee for this. I dissolved a full spoon of coffee powder in a small amount of water, and carefully dripped the resulting fluid onto the artefact.

Note to self: "carefully dripped the resulting fluid onto the artefact" is ideal material for sinister handouts

The staining was applied in dozens of individual doses, left to dry in the summer sun inbetweentimes. It slowly built up into something that's at least vaguely reminiscent of ichorous stainings over decades of sacrifice, I like to think. Although it does still smell faintly of coffee. I also carefully dripped tiny amounts into the rivulets of the carving, which firstly looked authentic, and secondly helps them stand out starkly against the stone.

The odd shape of this stone made it a more challenging carve. The Ogham is oddly broken up.

Peripherals

Of course, having composed two scruffy letters for the first carving, I could hardly let Shannon down with the second, now could I?

I thought it over for a while, and decided to just go with it being something she purchased from an eBay seller. Which of course needed an origin story. And some historical ephemera. And she was doing a certain campaign at the time, and why not after all take the time to offer a mysterious tie-in to a certain NPC...

Okay, I may have gone slightly over the top this time.

The backstory

So to begin with, obviously I needed a fictitious eBay page. Luckily this is relatively easy.

I say relatively easy; it's one of those things where I've completely lost the ability to judge that. I mean, I just saved a local copy of a plausible-looking eBay page to my local computer, then used the element editing menu on the browser to change individual sections without having to plough through the database-based code (straight-up HTML is so much easier to reskin). I have no idea where that actually falls on the mean or median scales of easiness.

I enclosed a PDF copy of the eBay page with my message, since sending people whole webpages is hard.

Then I composed a message from the seller, which was supposed to be straightforward, and naturally grew increasingly intricate as I went along. Naturally, I edited this in my email program to actually be from collectorkeith, and sent this email to Shannon for her own use if desired.

Dear Shannon,

thanks for your purchase of the Celtic engraving. I'll ship it over as soon as possible; it should take 5-7 working days to arrive.

Just to confirm, the package includes the artefact itself, plus its original label from Dr Richardson's collection, and two letters that have been associated with it for nearly 100 years.

This is a really interesting piece and honestly one of my favourite curiosities. It was found buried in fenland in the 1850s near Norfolk - unfortunately I was never able to find records of the exact date. It was referred to in a couple of minor journals (Norfolk Anthropology mostly, but also Zeitschrift für celtische Philologie) in the late C19th and early C20th, as mentioned in one of the enclosed letters. The researchers seem to have lost interest around 1913 when Beidecker (ZfcP) published arguments that the markings are simply ornamental rather than fragments of Pictish. It's a reasonably convincing case but I still wonder!

I was interested to see you purchase it as this piece has actually been to Australia before! It seems the piece was purchased in the late 1920s (I can't quite make out the date) when the collection was being sold off after Richardson's murder, and shipped to an antiquarian named Jackson Elias who was staying in Australia at the time. I believe this may have been an American anthropologist of that name who published some articles on lesser-known religions and folk practices, but it's not really my area.

The two enclosed letters date from that occasion, and include some intriguing biographical notes. It made me curious what sort of trouble Elias had been getting himself into. Knowing archaeology of the time I wonder whether he'd been involved in some less-than-legal excavations and removal of antiquities, which some countries were starting to crack down on.

The piece and its letters found their way back to London sometime after the second world war. According to my notes, it was retrieved from a cache of stolen goods in 1952, and its owner at the time, a Mr Neil Wharfdale, ended up in a mental institution suffering from severe paranoia following a series of unexplained burglary and assault attempts. It ended up in an auction run by the House of Ausberg in the 1970s where they were purchased by Professor Giles Moreton of Lincoln as part of a substantial lot. He didn't have much interest in Celtic material (I believe most of the lot was Egyptian) and I bought them in 1997.

Unfortunately I've had no more luck in deciphering the mystery than the old archaeologists did. The Celtic scholars I consulted agreed that it is an authentic C1-5th piece, but one suggestion is that it's actually a non-Celtic copy (possibly Romano-British or just plain Roman) made as a curiosity or just for practice by someone without a grasp of Ogham. It could even be an example of Ogham used to transcribe another language, although I couldn't make sense of it in Latin either. Perhaps the carver used a different transliteration?

The staining doesn't appear to be blood, which was the obvious (and more romantic) thought. I suspect it's some kind of oil, possibly an oily resin or perfume used in a burial, although if it's a ritual piece it could be from the ceremony. Or, of course, it could simply be that oil has leaked into the ground where it was buried - much less satisfying but perhaps more likely.

I hope you find it as intriguing as I did, and if you do learn any more about it, I'd be fascinated to hear from you.

Best wishes, Keith

The label

Letter to Jackson Elias

The 'typed' letter - worth reading as it has Edie's annotations as well as the text below!

Adelaide, Australia

Tuesday 15th 192~

My dear Elias,

I ran across the enclosed at a pretty dull auction of a country house in the quaint little town where I've been staying. Some ancestor had a collecting mania but frankly the rest was tedious books, pots, arrowheads and stuffed birds. I thought this repulsive little enigma might tickle your fancy. The little charms were long sold by the time I arrived, alas.

Tiresomely they refused to give me the collector's catalogue, so you will be delighted to see that I have lovingly transcribed their entries for you and now type it up for your delectation. I hope I have it right, but peculiar dead languages are rather more your area than mine, dear boy.

As you predicted, a foreigner of some sort has been loitering in the neighbourhood where you were staying. I had Norris approach him (with the utmost discretion, I do assure you) and with a little tact elicited the information that he was on the lookout for 'an old friend' with a predictable resemblance to your good self. I do trust you have not been agitating?

Norris was, with his usual skill, able to convey the impression that he might be willing to assist in this matter, and report that the foreigner showed a disposition to accept the offer. Tell me how you'd like to proceed, and don't go out without your revolver.

I ordered the books you requested from Blackwell's, and will send them on to your hotel. It will cost a pretty penny but if you say air mail, so it is. In the circumstances I say you ought to keep them well out of sight; I believe the staff at Blackwell's are beginning to look askance at me. I did call at the Bodleian, but even they drew a blank at this 'Sand Bat' of yours. I suppose the Antipodes aren't exactly their focus.

Yours and all that jazz,

Edie

The catalogue record

These copies of the catalogue are also annotated by a grumpy Edie

Carved stone of Celtic design found in bogs near Norwich. Originally buried in a bark container, which also held eight charms or amulets (holdings R-83N/hap1 to R-83N/hap8). Appears to depict a bearded figure, originally identified as the Dagda, but questionable due to lack of the distinctive club. Possibly a tribal chieftain or priest. Gordon (1896, Norfolk Archaeology) suggested the 'beard' is a symbolic representation of breath or speech, and the projections to the left are a harp, making this a bardic figure or possibly Áillen.

Carved with 36 ogham glyphs around perimeter. Left perimeter damaged at some point and the glyphs crudely repaired, leaving bifurcating set of glyphs. Lower part of stone and parts of carving stained with dark substance.

Transcription below from Winstable (1857).

Fngluimglupnazctulurle q u g ahnaglzta g n g

Inability to identify clear Old Irish words led Kleinhoff (1903) to suggest a druidic code and Rhys (1906) to argue for a Pictish origin.

Billings (1911) suggests an abbreviated or shorthand message to fit the available space, and identifies possible Primitive Irish words within the passage:

1)

finn-gl[as/an/é] ... ma[c/g] lu[gh] [b]námae c[a]thu rí ... leth-... ná-glé-se [do]gní

great brightness ... mac? lug was.enemy battle king ... half... not-bright.emph he-make

Finn-Glé (name)... Son of Lugh the Enemy? [perished in] battle with the King... half... no longer bright (emphasised; a play on death and his name?)... he did.

2)

finn-gl[as/an/é] ... im-gal[af] .... c[a]thu rí lé[g]- guth-gáeth...

great brightness ... was-valorous ... battle king with/reads voice-wind

Finn... showed courage... the king (with/who could read) voice of the wind (epithet for a chieftain?)...

Billings argues that, like most early Ogham stones, this was a grave marker or tribute, and is simply a more compact form of language used due to the limited space. A similar phenomenon is common in Latin engravings.

This is another one of those areas where I had a lot of fun. Well, frustration and fun. Coming up with plausibly bad interpretions of the Ogham, without spending as much time on it as the actual fictional Celticists would over the years, and without actually learning Old Irish (I'm fine with just the modern Celtic languages, thanks) was a tricky one.