Nireus's Tale

Yesterday I mentioned in passing that one of my favorite parts of classic-style gaming is the “emergent story” that happens at the table (opposed to say the newer habits of heavy pre-layering of GM meta-plots). Dice fall, combats are won and lost, jokes made and in all that chaos a “story” is made after the fact.

David Rollins playing the “pretty boy” ministrel-gladiator (a strangeness made possible by my Conan/ZeFRS random gen system) Nireus in the second one-shot composed one of the better (or at least amusing) first-person accounts I have read. I present his mighty ballad here for readers. 

(And if you are in a kindly mood today why not stop over at my earlier post and help me crowdsource the next scenario in this trilogy.)

The Tale of Nireus and the Foul Sorcerer Mogg

Hark! Gather close and hear the tale of how the great Nireus of Argos came to save the people of Ifar from the terrors of Mogg and the temple on the blue mountain.

It is a tale that begins, like so many, with a betrayal. Betrayal that lead to the destruction of the fierce company of warriors known as the Free Companions. With the rest of the Companions scattered and hopeless, Nireus gathered a small group of stalwart warriors to him and struck out across the steppes.

It was a journey that would purify their spirits with hardship. When they finally drank deeply of the pure waters of Ifar their minds were clear of purpose and their souls full of mercy and determination. Aye, such men as these could do naught else when the warrior princess Larissa beseeched their aid in the protection of the sacred village of Ifar.

Long had the foul necromancer plagued the good people of Ifar but lo, of late he had taken to capturing the fair maidens of the town to sacrifice in his diabolical rites.

Nireus, moved by their plight, gathered his men: Galbor of the Steppes, Iago the Zigaran and his faithful retainer Virain the Poet and bade Larissa lead him to the fell, blue mountain of the necromancer and priest of unmentionable gods, Mogg.

She lead the courageous troupe over dangerous mountain paths filled with harrowing heights and fierce creatures without number. Still, the men of Nireus won through with little trouble. When they reached the mountain the fair warrior maiden gave them three choices for the assent to the foul temple. The first was far in the distance, an easy trail up the mountain which they could see was clear of enemy and danger. The second was closer and offered a simple walk up a mountain path cut by a lazy river. The last was closer still; an arch that lead into the darkness beneath mountain and into the lower levels of the temple. Surely the enemy lay there in wait for the heroes that the gods would provide to the good people of Ifar!

The trials of the journey had done naught but wet the appetite of Nireus for battle. He chose to immediately grapple with the darkness of the temple and plunged into the inky uncertainty of the archway.

He ordered Larissa wait at the entrance for their inevitable return but she was noble and brave and would stand with her saviours, come what may.

The first door was a simple puzzle which Nireus had open in a mere moment but they were forced to walk in single file through a narrow corridor. Keen-eyed Iago took the lead, ever wary for the foemen of the terrible mountain while Nireus came behind him leading the beautiful Larissa by her hand.

A heavy door slid out of the wall and struck a terrible blow against Nireus; though he kept to his feet. Even so, while Nireus regained his balance an awful creature of the grave came from behind the door to tear poor Larissa from his grasp! The creature returned to the darkness with Larissa in tow and the heavy door began sliding closed behind him. With no holds or rings upon the door to grasp, the determined Argosian jammed his trident into the narrow space left and levered the stone door open with a might unmatched in these times.

While he held the cyclopean portal wide his men dashed into the secret way to give chase to the foul creature and his fair prize, Larissa. Understanding the will of their leader, Galbor and Virain quickly dashed through the door, though Iago was distracted by the decor of the room and had to be commanded to follow. The great door slammed shut behind Nireus as he followed his men but alas, they were slower than the preternatural creature and soon lost him in the maze of tunnels beneath the mountain.

Their trials as they searched the mountain for the fair princess Larissa were many and unnatural but there were a few battles note.

In a great cavern two demonic creatures, horrific blending of bats and men, descended from the darkness to harry the courageous band. Iago and Galbor fell upon one and tore at the thing's wings. Nireus shrugged off the pain of the fiend's claws as the larger creature raked his muscular flesh. He struck it to the ground with a sweep of his trident. Virain, with no martial skill of his own but a great loyalty to his friend and master, grabbed at the demon's wing to keep it from escaping Nireus' wrath. With a single blow, Nireus transfixed the the foul thing with his trident and sent it back to the hell from whence it had come.

Soon after the cavern, the bold band of heroes entered a great hall filled with pyramids of bones. What suffering these corpses had to endure the heroes could not know, even so they steeled themselves to avenge each and every one of the multitude strewn before them. They did not travel far when they were confronted by a terrible ghoul such as had taken the fair Larissa. Quick witted Iago pulled an ancient tapestry from the wall and wrapped it about the creature. Nireus leapt upon the bones of the fallen to prepare to deliver the final blow as brave and sure Virain touched his torch to the tapestry. The foul creature writhed widely in the flames but it was for nought as as a mighty blow from Nireus' trident brought it low forever.

Galbor and Virain turned to face two more ghoulish horrors as Iago ran from the battle to tear another tapestry from the wall. Galbor fell beneath the savagery of his foe while Virain stumbled out of reach of the blows meant to bring his own death. Nireus bellowed and dipped his trident into the fire of his still burning foe so that it might know the heat of his rage and struck Galbor's killer squarely. It too knew the heat of his fury as it burst into flames and died it's final death in screaming agony. While Iago swung from the second tapestry in his efforts to dislodge it, Nireus delivered another mighty blow to the final ghoul and laughed as it too suffered a flaming death of righteous fury.

Their thoughts on the peril of the fair Larissa, the heroes quickly cremated Galbor's remains over the burning bodies of his vanquished foes, praying his soul would rise upon the smoke of vengeance to the heavens.

Climbing upward through the gloomy halls of the temple the heroes came to a room with no floor. Housed beneath the scant and narrow beams, a creature of shadow and malice approached the three companions. Furious at what the delay might mean for the fate of fair Larissa, Nireus brandished his fearsome trident, Tribrand, and prepared to deal the hellish fiend a mortal blow. To the surprise of all, as he shook the fell weapon, a flame shot out of the fork toward the darkness of the creature. It recoiled from the furious light and cowered at the entrance to its lair.

Iago, emboldened by the creature's cowardice sauntered across the narrow beam with only the gentle sway of his hips to hold his balance. With the sure feet and powerful gait of a mountain lion Nireus also crossed the chamber. Virain followed with a watchful eye on the shadowy evil below.

The heroes then came to a chasm so deep it seemed to be without a bottom. Though a red glow far into the depths promised a fiery death should one of them fall. Even so, with the Ifar and Larissa depending on them, they did not hesitate and swung across the deep wound in the earth on a rusty old chain that hung from the ceiling.

A dark and twisting tunnel lead them to the decayed temple on the mountain peak. As they alighted the heap of rubble at the entrance they saw the evil Mogg chanting and preparing Larissa and another daughter of Ifar for sacrifice to his foul god. With a bellow of challenge, Nireus charged across the distance to bring Mogg's unnatural life to an end with Iago on his heels. Virain scuttled behind the rubble and made his approach to the fair victims with all speed that he safely could.

Mogg dispatched a lion's corpse, bound by unholy necromancy and strengthened by it's unnatural attachment to the mortal realm, to intercept the two valiant warriors. It was a worthy challenge for Nireus' skill and Tribrand twitched in his hands at the creature's approach. Still, he knew his duty was to rescue the the women and rid the world of the sorcerer Mogg's evil so he dug the butt of Tribrand into the rubble and vaulted over the beast so he could continue his charge.

Iago's twin blades flashed and struck the beast like lightning striking the steppes. He hacked chunks of dead flesh from its carcass and still it clawed vainly at him while they danced their fearsome duet. Iago leapt upon the great creature's back and plunged his daggers deep into its eyes and rode it until its spirit returned to the land of the dead for its final rest.

While Iago fought heroically against Mogg's hell-spawn minion, Virain struggled to cut the bonds of the Fair Princess Larissa and Nireus rained mighty blows upon Mogg in an effort to cancel his horrific magics. Mogg's chants evoked a terrible vortex of blood red mist above the alter. A dread creature from beyond entered the vortex and slapped vainly about the heroes with a multitude of tentacles.

Virain freed Larissa but was struck down by the dread god's tentacle before he could reach other fair maid.

The titanic struggle between Nireus and Mogg raged as the storm rages. Nireus cast aside the bindings of Mogg's magic like so many cobwebs. He struck a mortal blow, driving Triband deep into Mogg's chest. Even so, the bond between the sorcerer and the monstrous creature of the vortex remained unbroken. Nireus gripped his great trident in two hands and tossed Mogg into the air as a farmer tosses sheaves of wheat with his fork. Still he chanted, invoking the dread god alight upon the mountain's peak. Once more Nireus struck the sorcerer, Tribrand biting into his neck and chest. With heaving of his mighty arms he tore out Mogg's throat and collar bone, forever stanching the flow of hellish filth from Mogg's mouth.

And so it was finished. The mist cleared and the dread creature of the abyss disappeared. Virain recovered quickly from his wounds and Iago sauntered sexily down the mountain trail weighing double by Mogg's treasure.

A toast to the mighty warrior and hero: Nireus of Argos!

Crowdsourcing the Next Hyborian Romp

This weekend's face-to-face game marked the third time I have run the Conan/ZeFRS one-shot. There must be some twisted, soul-shriven social scientist buried in me as one of the most enjoyable things for me is the game as a comparative exercise.

It's absolutely fascinating how all three groups of Hyborian neerdowells when confronted with the same range of choices would at some points 100 percent of the time take the same one (always the tunnel) and at others come up with a wild range of divergent action. I will probably run it one more time this month if I can squeeze in a game before the holidays blot out the sun.

Which leads me to my work on the second linked Hyborian adventure coming in January. It's always fun to see what the unwashed Internet hordes come out with in a brainstorm bull session, so here I am throwing open the gates. Please help me throw some paint on the canvas and we'll see what sticks. (If your idea gets worked in there, you'll get full credit.)

Here's my ballpark for the adventure:

1. I am not doing straight adaptions of Conan stories, but I am trying my damnest to keep them in the spirit of the actual REH stories and not the later pastiches. So all's fair in terms of taking small elements from the stories: a situation here, a character there and the like. The closer in feel to real Howard material—even if it's from another story cycle (hell I've already thrown Bran Mak Morn and Kull in there) the better. Any choice bits you'd love to see scattered in there for color and texture?

2. I need to get it out of the dungeon as the main adventure site (though it certainly can contain some underground exploration as a sideshow). Suggestions for solid Howardian places to perform brave acts in?

3. I really want to do a mass pitched battle. It could be an affair like the Battle of Shamla Pass in "Black Colossus" or something wholy different. I would likely use the mass battle rules that came in the third TSR Conan module so that the outcome is actually variable—and can be heavily effected by the actions of players. Suggestions on who's battling, why the players are involved, or what kind of cut-scene/action points I can throw in there?

4. I want to have a small city/town/social “scene” which can test more of the civilian skills and especially the character-chosen weaknesses (like Weakness to Men/Women, wine, gluttony, or gambling). Any suggestions there?

Anything else, my friends? Wild, crazy, and off-the-wall welcome. 

Playing More, Feeling Good

Deep in my cups last night with my visiting buddy, Red from Redbeard's Raving, we came around to talking about the post-game “GM high.” Just out of running a spontaneous face-to-face third run at Mogg's mountain featuring Desert Scribe as the mighty axe-cleaving Kull and Red as the Zamoran rogue Shevatas, I was feeling that familiar and addictive spike of adrenalin after a good session.

Undoubtedly, part of the cycle begins with the jitters of stage fright. (And quite honestly I feel it before every single session even with friends near and dear.) It's an old feeling—much akin to what I remembered of my time decades ago of doing theater—the conquering of which invariably leaves me amped up to 11 afterward with the flush of “performing.”

Feeding it as been a lot of the between-session chatter of the involved players. Each session tends to bring me into contact with new players and all kinds of quirky little “emergent story” by-products have bubbled out of the at-table chaos (more about that Hyborian and Domain player-written madness later).

Even when my evening Google+ sessions run into the wee hours of my much coveted sleep schedule I have tended to keep trying to ride out my buzz around the meta-bull sessions that Zak S. has been hosting under the “Let's Fight about RPGs” banner.

Taking stock, I am a bit taken aback by how deep I have sunk in. Six months ago most of my gaming activity mostly revolved around the once every 3-4 weeks tabletop Hill Cantons campaign. These days between the Google+ Petal Throne, Domain Game II, Conan one-shots, and of course play in other people's worlds, I am playing roughly twice a week: a six-fold increase.

It's a surprise to busy real life me—doubly so since it's been very sustainable. Cutting out the less emotionally satisfying, black hole of computer gaming altogether and the sudden flexibility of being able to virtually run or play in a game whenever I have a few idle hours have opened up more play windows. And with that high back there I keep returning like someone jonesing for black tar heroin.

Point is, I am not trying to beat on the drum again about G+ gaming; it's more of a sudden, broader recognition that there are  benefits to this hobby that I just don't get it out of other interests. There is some indeed method inside my own obsessional madness and that method is something that has felt good and healthy.

I have a feeling that I just might not be alone in this. 

Welcome to Ma'arb, the Land of 500 Graces

The uncouth barbarian scum that make up the zrne-share of players in our Jakalla Petal Throne games on Google+ are said to be refugees from the obscure southern land of Ma'arb. Observing the Discrete Etiquette of Background Facts that Mean Little to Players, not much is known in the Five Empires of that distant, dusty place.

Ma'arb lies mainly on a thorn-tree covered hilly plateau punctuated by grassland prairies and labyrinthine box canyons. Around the two rivers draining it there are fertile bottom lands where most of the population resides in teetering fortified steads made from jer-dun, the mortar of the shells of gargantuan sand mollusks.

The capital city of Ber'jef, the Classical Ma'arbyani word for “Sanguinolent Fortress That Wraps the Sky in Apricity”, was founded as a remote Engsvanyali military cantonment and trading concession with the local hill tribes. In its heyday a millennium ago it was a flourishing trade center, but as the continent-wide demand for hu'uz (an allegedly-madness producing liquor brewed from Zibraan, the underparts of a local grub) shrunk so did the fortunes of the city.

The isolation and decline of Ma'arb in recent centuries was compounded by an incursion of the Kazs, an obscure branch of the dreaded Ssu that now lay claim to vast, cycolpean ruins near the single mountain pass off of the plateau--passes that would otherwise connect Ma'arb to the other nations of the so-called Southern Continent. The local Foes of Man are hunchbacked, mauve in complexion, and reek of stale cardamon.

Ber'jef today is but a dusty shell of its once glorious self.

Religion in Ma'arb is dominated by a Manichean system split between two god-heads, one symbolizing “Stability”, the other “Change”. The seeming unity of this doctrine is marred by an internecine factionalism.

It is said by wags that for every five Ma'arbyani there are six competing cosmologies--and in truth much of the nation's cultural and intellectual life is consumed by fervent debate of these matters of religion (questions such as whether Tekumel was created from the Top Down or Bottom Up or if life can be described as a fast-moving game or a loose, but grand narrative for example) .

Each school of thought is called a “grace”. One such grace is the Equipollent Idolaters, a school of thought that maintains that the deities of Pavar are in fact not just major aspects of the twin god-heads, but separate divine beings in their own right. Refugee priests of this grace seem to have little difficulty--once their atrocious barbarian uncouthness is overlooked--fitting into the local temple structures of Tsolyanu.

Clark Ashton Smith Fans: Which Cycle?

I am told that good things come to those that wait...or something and the other...really I am too restless and impatient to listen anymore to these kinds of homespun adages.

Though recently it did ring true. After a year of patient (and disciplined) bidding, I won a sweet and affordable lot of those Ballantine paperback collections of Clark Ashton Smith's work.

Though I had read several of the entries in the Hyperborean cycle (including my favorite, flawed CAS gem “The Seven Geases”) it was pleasure to get a chance to read them all in one sitting. 

But even more than the stories; the introduction, hand-drawn map, and geographic walk-through by Lin Carter—really someone should have had a tough love intervention with that man to limit him to this kind of editorial core competency—really fired up my imagination.

I instantly wanted to plop that time-forgotten lost-isle straight down into the Hill Cantons. (Since I have had vague allusions to the lost Hyperborean civilization all along not a terrible stretch).

So here's my query of the week to you in the echo chamber: if you had to pick one of his story settings/cycles, which would you base a game setting on and why?

Zothique? Hyperborea? Averoigne? Xiccarph? Something else? (If you are going to cherry-pick from several, you better defend that position, pal.)

Random Character Generation for a Hyborian Age

I just couldn't leave well enough alone. Give me a game, even one that I love and mostly works for me and within a couple weeks time I am already bolting on flashy bits of chrome or trying to kit out his engine.

I swore great blood-sealed oaths to grim Ymir that I would just play Conan/ZeFRS straight out of the box, but here I am doling out some variants. It's probably not a great surprise to longtime readers that the first thing I would take a sharp chopping instrument to is the point-buy system (a particular and persistent dislike of mine), and that I did.

See below for a random character generation system to be used with TSR Conan rpg or its lovable, free clone ZeFRS . Because it spills out over a few pages, I will only present part of the subsystem blogside. You can find the full PDF download here.

As always this is a work in progress and I would greatly appreciate feedback (no seriously, please drop me at least a line about it). Does it work? Is it clear?Tweaks? Or do you just want to hit it with your axe?

Design Goals:

Speed up character gen. Should take 5-15 minutes with the subsystem.

Reduce min/max dithering. Characters will have a decent, sensible spread of talents. And removing the min/max impulse means that players can be surprised by what they may get. Some choice still exists with the election to take rolls on the weakness charts (any talent points there can be freely assigned).

Provide color. The background charts provide some decent REH archetypical characters with a light touch that allows for them to figure out most real details of their character at the table.

Bolster the power range a tad. Characters generated here get an extra talent point and five extra talent points per weakness to compensate for being bound by the almighty die.