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  • Rats in the Slums

    Rats in the Slums

    The Wererats of Arjenvís

    VIII Canton, the Brzek Kreft (“verge of blood”), is home to the least and lowest of the inhabitants of Arjenvís. It stretches along the Southeastern bank of the Nozca Kreft river below the Jyarmarck (VII Canton), East of the Nozca Stok (III Canton), and wraps along the Linia Rynkowa road (the “Market Line” the border between the Jyarmarck and the Brezk Kreft) all the way East to the bottom of the Prohodt (“processional”), the road that leads from the great gates of Arjenvis to the seat of Arjenvís power, the Kziazekyr.


    The Brzek Kreft, is a warren of tight alleys, ramshackle buildings and workhouses. For the first 60 years of Arjenvís, the Brzek Kreft was a semi-permanent shantytown that grew outside the walls of the founding Cantons. Homeless and undesirable people denied a place to live within the walls of the city congregated here.


    The laborers in the Black Ridge Mines crowd the workhouses of the Trzy Makti (the “Three Mothers”) and are daily marched through the Wohz Wohlu Gate into the Norzca Stok canton. On the far side of VIII Canton, The Dommzey Tzlote workhouse provides laborers to the industrial fisheries on the Norzca Kreft river.

    The maze of alleys and narrow streets that form the VIII Canton

    The Lords of the Lowest

    Unlike the other canton which climb the slopes of the Judoas Kraigas, the river bottom of Brzek Kreft is ruled by a complex network of cartels that control competing territories throughout the slum.

    The leadership of the cartels are the nearest monsters to humanity in all of Arjenvís. Wererats. The wererat curse affects most mortal people. Humans, Halflings, Dwarves, even Orcs and Goblinkind can be brought into a nest of wererats.

    The head of the largest cartel in the Brzek Kreft, the Svenzy sits on the council of Boyars for all of Arjenvís. Called “The Myzj”, this lord of wererats may not be the strongest, or the most powerful wizard or priest of the city, but they have the tightest control over VIII Canton. Every rat from the banks of the Nozca Kreft river to the walls surrounding the First Canton, the Kziazkeyr are their spies. Even the mighty Striogi Boyars and the Vlatza himself cannot fully control the legions of rats as effectively as the Myzj.

    Wererats, even the wererats of the Brzek Kreft live in symbiotic community with both the people and the rats of the cities they inhabit. They remain monstrous, their curse pushing them to acts of violence and depravity, the spreading of urban entropy throughout their domains. At the same time, they need mortals to live amongst. Unlike more predatory monsters like Vampires, Ghouls and Werewolves, wererats cohabitate rather than dominate.

    Ironically, the mortals of the Brzek Kreft are, as a rule, happier than the residents of the more prosperous canton in Arjenvís. The wererats of the cartels, while preventing Brzek Kreft from developing beyond the poor slum that it has been since it grew out of the shantytown along the shore of the Nozca Kreft don’t visit horrors among their mortals. The least of the citizens of Arjenvís are thereby shielded from the nightly predations of the nobility.

    A Slum of Ghettos

    The Brzek Kreft is divided into several Ghettos.  Some, like the Ratzveny ghetto is centered around an institution, in this case the Szvenzy Cartel and the Myzj. Other ghettos are ethnic enclaves, like Hravzton, where Goblins, Halflings and Gnomes have built a community scaled to accommodate their stature, or the Klaarg, where the Szef of the Kuznia presides over his clan of Dwarves.  Still others are defined by their architecture or location like the Zdunthia Issekah or the Obuz.  In all cases a ghetto is governed by its own cartel. Those cartels, much like the ghettos themselves are constantly changing as their fortunes rise and fall.

    The Brzek Kreft has little in the way of formal infrastructure.  Its streets are not uniformly wide, nor uniformly paved (if they’re paved at all).  The sewers are a chaotic tangle of warren-like tunnels which are barely adequate for the purpose of draining rainfall from the streets, and wholly inadequate for keeping the place free of filth.  Brzek Kreft began as a shantytown, and in the decades since has only grown.

    The two primary industries in the Brzek Kreft are the workhouses which provide cheap labor to the factories and mines throughout Arjenvís, and the fisheries along the Nozca Kreft river which process the cheapest catches and unsold fish from the markets at the end of the day.

    It deserves mentioning that prostitution, or similar sex-work is not considered illicit, nor confined to the Brzek Kreft. While the cartels certainly use the profession as a means to generate revenue and provide services to the population, a prostitute, courtesan, or exotic dancer is no more or less specialized than a dockworker or a tradesman. Even in a City of Miseries, sex work remains work.

    Factions Within the Brzek Kreft

    The largest and most powerful organization within the Brzek Kreft is the Szvenzy Cartel. The Szvenzy receive tribute and fealty from all the other cartels eventually, whether directly as a “tax”, or indirectly when smaller cartels pay their tribute to the cartels over them.

    There are several major cartels that rival the Szvenzy, but are as yet unable to challenge them.

    1. The Lukzen Klaarg is an extended clan of people from an underground ancestry, Dwarves, Goblins,some Orcs and some Humans. The Lukzen both run the sewers beneath the Brzek Kreft and the miners who work the Czarny Grzbiet mine. All cartels of course operate in all facets of life within the Brzek Kreft, but the Lukzen are very successful as smugglers, avoiding the city’s more oppressive taxes and supplying various forms of contraband.
    2. The Ezka Cartel operate along the banks of the Nozca Kreft river along both banks, they jealously guard this lucrative terriroty. Only the Szvenzy are permitted to operate in the Ezka territory freely, and only then because the Ezka are unable to stop them.
    3. The Sheroty Cartel work near and within the Jyarmarck markets. They run protection, and petty theft there as well as extortion, blackmail, and secrets. The Sheroty adopt young, often orphaned or otherwise neglected children to become a part of their cartel, and as these children grow into adults, they are free to join other cartels in the Brzek Kreft or remain as recruiters or lieutenants of the Sheroty.
    4. The Toleria Cartel run most of the gambling houses and games in the Brzek Kreft. They loan money, regulate the houses and arrange events for their customers to wager on. While not as refined as the high stakes games that the more affluent cantons offer, these events do draw aristocratic patronage in the form of “slumming”.
    5. The Pralnia Cartel fence stolen goods throughout the Brzek Kreft. They also sanction and regulate many of the larger robberies of Noble households, and launder the more recognizable loot. The Pralnia Cartel also adjudicates and administers contract theft for clients
    6. The Zrebne Cartel is the only cartel in Brzek Kreft that engages in only one activity. The Zrebne are assassins and contract killers. They do not engage in other rackets that other cartels do. They are also not the exclusive cartel that engages in contract murder. They are the premier organization that can be employed for contract killings, and the Zrebne Cartel collect contracts throughout Arjenvís.
    7. The Vyara Zabor Church aggressively maintains a presence in the Brzek Kreft. The Priesthood is most prominent here. Since there is very little political influence Brzek Kreft has within Arjenvís itself, the Biurokratyzm are much less interested in the slum. Indeed, administrative assignment to the Ozmye Skron temple is considered a “punishment posting” among the ambitious clerics. The Inquisition is very active in Brzek Kreft as the crowded, lawless slum and it’s ghettos teeming with the desperate poor is ever rife with heresy. Most of the Inquisitorial order within the church begin their careers here, since opportunity to exercise their authority is abundant and oversight is lax.

    It’s October, and spooky season, so for this month I’ll be exploring my Fantasy Horror setting of Arjenvís, originally introduced in this blog here. Happy Halloween if you celebrate, or Samhain, or Dia de los Muertos. Stay safe, have fun, and brave your fears.

  • The Triangle

    The Triangle

    Adapting the Classic FASA Trek Campaign Setting

    There is a sector of space in the old FASA Star Trek tabletop RPG game that rests where the United Federation of Planets, Klingon Empire and Romulan Star Empire meet. It is a collection of hundreds of inhabited systems independent of control from any of the three major powers in the Quadrant. It was published in 1985, right in the middle of the Original Series movie run, just after Star Trek III: The Search for Spock and before Star Trek IV: the Voyage Home. Two years before Star Trek: The Next Generation premiered in 1987.

    It Looks Small on the Map

    A colorized map of the Triangle, originally published by FASA in 1985, though I don’t know who to credit with the colorized graphics of this image1

    When compared to the full map of the Alpha/ Beta quadrants of the Star Trek Universe, the Triangle Secor is small. Only a handful of parsecs on each side. However, as discussed in the article O God, Thy Sea is so Great, even at this scale, the sector is vast, 243.25 ly3 (a very rough estimate for illustrative purposes based on the map scale.) It’s got 75 star systems that are listed, with the potential for hundreds more. Warp Drives at least capable of Warp Factor 5 (125 C in TOS Warp Scaling) or Warp 3.58 (in TNG Scaling) would be necessary to voyage between most systems in less than a year.

    Warp Factor in Star Trek was expressed in different scales depending on the era of the show or movie. In The Original Series, the Warp Factor was the cube root of it speed measured against the Speed of Light (C). In The Next Generation onwards, the function was speed = Warp Factor ^ 10/3 x C with Warp Factor 10 being a limit at infinity. It’s all made up numbers anyway, but having a solvable function allows for measurable consistency.2

    This would be relatively slow for the era that the Triangle Campaign was originally designed for, being the TOS movie era. However, in context, the TOS movies (and TOS television episodes) were about the Constitution Class cruiser Enterprise and her 5 year mission into deep space. Civilian Freighters, and Patrol Cruisers don’t need engines capable of speeds at 512 C for an area like the Triangle.

    A Near Frontier

    The Triangle remains unclaimed by any of the three powers which border it. Though the Federation, Klingon Empire and the Romulan Star Empire keep watchful presences in the sector, mainly watching one another, none of them have any authority nor jurisdiction out here. This has allowed the Triangle to develop into a sector of free worlds, pocket empires, pirate havens and homestead colonies.

    This environment is similar to the interstellar frontiers past the claimed systems of the major powers in the quadrant. Except, in the Triangle, the Federation, Klingon Empire and Romulan Star Empire have spread to encompass this sector, creating a pocket between them. Unlike the borders and neutral zones between any two of these empires, this area is tri-lateral, which has made establishing a negotiated border impossible. It would take all three powers to agree to the details of any such treaty which, especially in the era that the supplement was set, could not be possible.

    Instead, the worlds of the Triangle are in a perpetual state of Cold War between the surrounding empires. Each exerting influence against the others, brokering deals, using the sector as a place to infiltrate rivals while maintaining deniability. The settlements within the Triangle swing from being willing pawns in this conflict to brokers making a profit off of the espionage. Especially the multi-system alliances and pocket empires are very good at extracting technological and political resources from one major power or the others to expand their own influence among their neighbors.

    Unconstrained Capitalism, Cartel Piracy, Syndicated Privateers

    Of course the Triangle is a fertile environment for less “formal” powers in Alpha and Beta Quadrants to conduct themselves in the open without entanglements from the overwhelming influence of the major powers in the quadrants. The Ferengi Alliance and Orion Syndicates are less restrained in the sector, free to operate unconstrained and with the power of their polities to back them up. After all, any one Syndicate or the Ferengi Alliance is vastly more powerful in all respects than any pocket empire, or alliance within the Triangle.

    But the presence of the Syndicates and the Ferengi has a stabilizing influence. Freelance piracy or raiding has to operate quietly, or risk attracting attention from the Syndicates. The safer option for these small, independent operations is to operate under the sanction of one of the Syndicates or another.

    There is no Section 31

    The three major powers operating in the Triangle, while not projecting a Naval or Fleet presence into the sector, instead the intelligence agencies operate with very little oversight. Starfleet Intelligence, Imperial Klingon Intelligence, and the Romulan Tal Shiar all play a dangerous game of cloak-and-dagger, peddling influence among the local systems and simultaneously weakening their rival powers. Missions in the Triangle revolve around all the classic spy operations, theft, intelligence gathering, assassination, and turning agents.

    When this supplement was published in 1985, Section 31 had not been added to the Star Trek Universe, so it isn’t called out in the Triangle, or the Triangle Campaign. Truthfully, the Ferengi Alliance isn’t called out either, since they won’t make an appearance in Star Trek for another two years in The Next Generation. Just because the source material from the time is too early to have current elements of Star Trek, that is no reason why we can’t fill them in to our TTRPG campaigns.

    Section 31, is at it’s best when it “doesn’t exist” in the setting. When it was first introduced in Deep Space Nine, the organization was a secret institution within the Federation and Star Fleet Intelligence community. The Federation has the Diplomatic Corps, Starfleet has it’s Intelligence Branch, both of these organizations are acknowledged publicly and operate with oversight from their respective service branches. Ultimately, the Diplomatic Corps and Starfleet Intelligence have to answer to the Federation Government. Section 31, because it’s deniable, has no such oversight. Which in a setting that features Cold-War style espionage makes for a great antagonist.

    Since Section 31 is really well known among the audience of Star Trek today, the subject will most likely show up. This presumption can be really well used by a GM. “It’s a Section 31 plot”, is a red herring that never stops giving gifts. It’s almost never a Section 31 plot. Don’t accuse your players of metagaming, instead concede their characters (especially if they have Federation backgrounds in the Diplomatic Corps, or Starfleet Intelligence) have heard rumors since the academy that “Section 31” as some sort of bogeyman. If the players wish to play a campaign as Section 31 agents, that works as well, but working for an unaccountable secret agency isn’t morally grey, it’s morally void. As the old saying goes “be careful what you wish for”.

    The Ship is an NPC

    This is an element core to Star Trek. Even a city-sized capital ship like the Galaxy Class has a personality and identity that makes it more than just a collection of engines, hull and circuits. Even in The Original Series era, the ship’s computer has voice interface and a personality. Heck, it had to be voice-acted by Majel Barret Roddenberry for years.

    In the Triangle, the ship the characters crew is much smaller. To borrow an element from the classic West End Games’ Star Wars Role Playing Game, the ship can best be described as the Stock Light Freighter. The crew of the ship should be small enough that the characters can run it on their own, but can support a small number of specialists and support crew (which is a great source of replacement characters in the field). Unlike the standard Star Trek campaign, the Triangle doesn’t feature big Cruisers, even the multi-thousand ton heavy freighters are not appropriate for the player ship, though the big freighters can be the subject of an adventure.

    Technology is a Tell

    Phasers (both hand phasers and shipboard) are distinctive Federation weapons. There is a distinct difference between a Romulan and Klingon Cloaking Device (the Romulans have a much more refined Cloak), Bat’leth are Klingon martial weapons with a long cultural history of martial arts surrounding it. This all means that the equipment and the technology a crew of characters use can reveal who they’re working for if they aren’t careful.

    Disruptors are common enough weapons that their origin really reveals nothing about the person using it. It’s kind of like the “AK-47” of the Star Trek Universe. This applies to the hand Disruptor, and the shipboard weapon system. Tricorders, Communicators, Universal Translaters, Transporters are all common in the Star Trek setting and don’t raise much suspicion. After all, the Ferengi trade in everything!

    Hand Phasers, especially the Type I phaser (the little palm-sized device) is almost designed for espionage. Unlike Disruptors, the Phaser can be set to stun, wound, disintegrate, heat matter, and doesn’t look like a weapon. This was originally a feature used by Starfleet to arm their crews without presenting as carrying weapons. The “stun” setting allows to subdue adversaries without killing them. For Pirates and Espionage Agents, this is a valuable little device, concealable, innocuous and capable of stunning a target for later interrogation (or ransom), or disintegrating them and leaving no evidence (or witnesses) behind.

    The Prime Directive Doesn’t Apply

    The Triangle Sector has been settled for a century or more. The worlds have been visited by the Syndicate, Ferengi Merchants, the Klingon Empire and Romulan Star Empire, none of whom restrain themselves with a “Prime Directive”. Even undiscovered worlds (with a few exceptions) have had encounters with warp capable civilizations. Federation, or Starfleet sponsored crews are not expected to adhere to the Prime Directive like their counterparts out in the exploration branch of their service. Intelligence Operatives are expected to prioritize the mission over considerations like the Prime Directive. (And, of course “Section 31” doesn’t play by the rules anyway.)

    The various interstellar alliances and pocket empires in the sector also have no Prime Directive restraining their development. In fact the interstellar rivalries, supported by the major powers are constantly seeking any advantages they can get. This could lead to adventures where the characters are hired to smuggle technology to local governments.

    Latinum Pays the Bills

    Federation characters have to learn how to conduct trade with money in the Triangle. Since they come from a post-scarcity civilization and “have no use for money”, In the Triangle, however, only worlds that are directly supported by the Federation (like the Baker’s Dozen worlds) use the proxy currency of Federation Credits. Everybody else uses either local currency, or thanks to the Ferengi Alliance, gold pressed latinum.

    Federation characters who go through the Federation Diplomatic Core or Starfleet Intelligence should have as part of their skill list a skill that allows them to use money. In Traveller, which is the system the author is most familiar with, this is represented by the “Broker” or “Trader” skills. Star Trek Adventures and other game systems will have similar skills to cover this function. Understanding how to conduct commerce with cash-money isn’t difficult, the skill rolls that will come from these challenges will represent the character’s understanding of value. Buying a replacement coil-inducer for the plasma conduit (mmm.. that’s some good engineering babble there) from your friendly local Ferengi will require a skill check, and failure would result .at the minimum. in overpaying. Other consequences could apply, the merchant could sell the character a less-than-quality item by talking them out of the part they picked out in the first place.

    Without having a culture of money, it’s just hard to judge the value of a strip of latinum. After all, in the Federation all most people need to do is walk over to the replicator and say “Earl grey, decaf” and they get a nice cuppa. Walking into space-Starbucks and ordering a venti raktagino-mokka will require an exchange of money for goods. Considering raktagino is a Klingon drink, the person selling it to might react violently when the character tries to explain that they don’t have the latinum on them right now.

    The skill check can also take the place of keeping a ledger of how much money the character has. If the skill roll succeeds, the character has the money on hand and can buy the thing. If the skill roll fails, they can’t affoard it.

    The purpose here is to make the setting feel more Star Trek. If using money is casual, then it doesn’t feel like the characters come from a society that doesn’t use money. It also allows for those characters who do know how to sling some latinum (like Beckett Mariner from Lower Decks) to have moments of shining in the spotlight. Other factions could face similar challenges. Klingons from the Empire might find trading in latinum to be a slight on their honor. Romulans might only trade in Imperial currency because holding money that isn’t authorized by the Empire could be seen as treasonous.

    Now, slip out of that maroon uniform and into some civilian clothes, belt on a holster and your disruptor and take your Free Trader into the Triangle.

  • A Fist Full of C-Bills

    A Fist Full of C-Bills

    ..and A Pocket-full of Credits

    Science Fiction money takes many forms. From primitive cultures trading precious baubles to vast financial networks that process electronic and digital transactions through subspace and hyperspace communications. For adventurers with bills to pay, the way they access their money can be a challenge as they jump from one star system to the next. This article relates to some ideas posted in O God, Thy Sea is so Great and Money Makes the World Go ‘Round.

    Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

    In our real world, budgets and finance can get detailed. Most of us have had the experience of scraping every corner and couch cushion for loose change to go down to the corner store with. Some of the reasons we play role-playing games is to take a break from worrying about if we can afford that extra box of mac-and-cheese or not.

    The “small stuff” can all be abstracted into lifestyle. In Traveller, lifestyle is related to the Social Standing characteristic (at least in the Third Imperium setting). Adventurers with a low lifestyle, sleep in a fleabag flat and eat kibble from a grey box labeled “food”, those with a high lifestyle, stay in luxury apartments and eat fresh, or exotic meals. Don’t dwell too much on the details though, lifestyle is a player choice for their adventurers, there might be a regular cost, or not. Keep the action focused on the adventure and not the downtime.

    Sometimes, the Small Stuff is the Adventure

    This is different from looking over character sheets and noticing if a character has enough centi-credits to live well during the adventure. These are adventures where the characters have lost access to their normal resources. The bank fails, they’re robbed, a new government won’t accept their money (the classic “we don’t accept Federation Credits, only Gold Pressed Latinum”). The objective on these adventures is to survive without money until they recover their means to rejoin the markets.

    Speaking of Gold Pressed Latinum

    In the main cultures of most sci-fi settings, currency is electronic. (Think cryptocurrency, but hyper-efficient). In cultures where technology is advanced enough to manage an interstellar society, this form of currency is practical and mostly efficient. It also reduces incidents of fraud, the possibility of devaluation because some explorer discovers a colossal source of precious metal, or a technology like the Star Trek replicator is developed. Data as currency is extremely efficient to use. Anyone who has made a purchase with a card over the internet has experienced this convenience.

    While efficient and convenient, even at highly technically advanced cultures, there remains a need for a more physical currency. In Star Trek, that’s “Gold Pressed Latinum” which is made from a unreplicatable, rare, element suspended in gold. Other settings use similar things, though in places like the Inner Sphere, or the 3rd Imperium, that sort of hard currency is tied to the electronic economy and minted by the governmental authority.

    Hard currency has another benefit. Cold, hard, cash is difficult to trace. Especially over interstellar distances. Tracing technology can be defeated, and unlike bills, or proxy currency, as any Ferengi can tell you “Latinum is Latinum everywhere in the galaxy”. For crews and companies that don’t want to leave a trail of money behind them as they operate, sometimes across hostile borders, having a valuable, difficult to track currency is a must.

    From an adventuring perspective, hard currency gives a fun æsthetic for heist or treasure-seeking adventures. Think about the old World War 2 Movie “Kelly’s Heroes”, that would work so well in the Battletech Universe. A group of mercs learning about a cache of hard currency, like a bank in occupied territory and taking an “unauthorized expedition” to grab the vault before it gets moved somewhere “safe”. Most of the ideas presented in, Money Makes the World Go Round, can be applied, especially with regards to what happens after your holds are filled with pallets of currency.

    Battlemechs, Tanks, Space Fighters, and Starships

    Big ticket items are common in Science Fiction settings. What would Star Wars be without the Millenium Falcon? Hammer’s Slamers without Grav Tanks? Gundam without Mobile Suits? In most settings, the characters belong to organizations that assign them to their war machines or ships. Maintenance for these big ticket items is covered by the organization.

    But in settings where the characters are the crew of a Free Trader, or the pilots of a mercenary company of Battlemechs, these costs are a foundation of the campaign. We see this in Firefly, “Find a crew, find a job, keep flying”. Star Wars Episode IV also shows this off. Han Solo is charging 10,000 to take Ben and Luke to Alderran. He’s in debt to Jabba who is threatening his ship. Point being, everything involved with these big ticket items are expensive. From purchasing them to maintaining them to repairing or improving them. Costs run into the millions of credits, and they’re recurring. Ships need fuel, weapons eat ammunition, crew need food, water and air on long space journeys.

    When designing adventures, the Game Master needs to take the costs into account when they’re adding rewards. The adventurers need to make enough money to cover their expenses while turning a profit. This pushes this style of campaign into a higher scale of economy. While a group of scoundrels may well be able to retire from adventuring and “go legit” if they score a million C-bills, in a campaign that revolves around a company of Big Stompy Robots, that same million C-bills might cover two or three months of maintenance. For the owners of a starship a single Megacredit will run out quick, fast, and in a hurry.

    Filling Contracts

    Especially in Mercenary campaigns, contracts are common. These are great for Game Masters and Players Alike. Contracts outline what the adventure is expected to be. Where to go. What to do, and how much the compensation is going to be at the end. Longer term contracts can also include covering maintenance, repair, and fuel, relieving the players from that accounting for a time.

    Contracts are not only applicable to the mercenary campaign. Worlds can contract free traders to deliver mail to them, or maintain trade with nearby systems, free traders can serve as a temporary solution to these systems until they build their own fleets and infrastructures. Still, it’s an opportunity for characters to go places, do things, and have adventures.

    Many settings have an independent authority to mediate contracts and enforce their terms. The Mercenary Review Board in Battletech, merchant guilds, megacorporate syndicates, Imperial ministries, serve these roles as arbiter, and holds payment in escrow until the terms of a contract are fulfilled. But some science-fiction settings do not. Crews need to negotiate guarantees and protections for themselves, as do the parties they are contracting with. For a GM, this can lead to double-crosses, backstabs and other creative ways to introduce twists in an adventure that threatens to become boring.

    Outrunning Your Mortgage

    Especially in settings like Traveller, where interstellar communications travel at the speeds of the fastest courier as described in O God, Thy Sea is so Great. A group of adventurers can skip their bank note on their big ticket item. Jumping out to the fringe of “civilized” space and joining the pirates and nomads and homesteaders out past the perimeter. Or, in a setting where wars rage between empires, hiding from their lien-holder in one empire by escaping into it’s rival.

    This is in essence, stealing the things that are mortgaged. Considering star ships, battlemechs, tanks and space fighters are really really expensive the finances won’t just write off the loss. After all, the characters just ran off with tens of millions of C-Bills (or Megacredits) of their money. Collection agents, Repo men, Skip-tracers and Bounty Hunters will follow the ship, and the characters everywhere they go. Running them down, even out on the periphery to drag them and their ship back to face consequences.

    Characters can run, they can even run fast, but they’ll never run far enough to ever be comfortable not looking over their shoulder. Even Han Solo ended up in carbonite, hanging as a trophy in Jabba the Hutt’s palace.

  • The Guild Empire

    The Guild Empire

    ..and Eldritch Suns

    Years ago just after the third Pirates of the Carribean movie, I was inspired to design a Spelljammer setting. I called it “Eldritch Suns” and it used a lot of the worldbuilding from Disney’s Treasure Planet. Solar sails, magic cannon, wheellock pistols and cutlasses. Like Treasure Planet, the setting would take 75% age of Sail, Age of exploration and 25% Space Fantasy. The Eldritch Suns have never been far from my mind.

    The Astral Sea and the Frontier

    The Astral Sea is the void between systems. It is the places on the maps of the cosmos where “Here be DRAGONS” is inscribed as a warning. The Astral Sea needs to be crossed in order for ships to cross from one system to the next.

    Systems in the Astral Sea are termed wells, bubbles of matter which function like the star systems we are familiar with. They have a central point where all bodies revolve. Since this is a space-fantasy setting, those central points aren’t stars as we understand them, they are geysers of Æther that flood out, and return in a chaotic network of currents. These wells are distinct from one another, each varying in how time passes and drift among one another like corks floating in a barrel of water.

    When two or more wells begin to experience regular travel between them, for trade, or immigration, they will establish a route through the Astral Sea, these are termed “Mains” and they will slowly synchronize how the wells relate to one another. Calendars will slowly begin to synchronize, their relative positions within the Astral Sea will start stabilizing, even the languages of their peoples will become more familiar in respects to one another. In general, the more mains, connecting wells for longer periods of time will accelerate the process of synchronization. An example of a mature result of this process are the seven core wells of the Guild Empire.

    The Antagonist; The Guild Empire

    The Guild Empire was loosely based on the East India Company from Pirates 3. A mercantile empire that dominated the setting with the resources to launch fleets and armies. It was focused on seven core wells;

    1. Roidahç; (ROH-ih-dosh)
    2. Elgen Trencz; (EL-gen TRENZ)
    3. Jharigo; (JER-ih-go)
    4. Kazzaq: (kaz-AK)
    5. Fauchaq: (fow-SHAK)
    6. Ausaq: (aw-SAK)
    7. Rhiannon: (REE-ann-on)

    These wells have a dense and very old network of mains with each other, and as a result, are fully synchronized. They share a single Imperial Calendar which passes at the same rate among the worlds of all seven wells. They have a single Imperial Language (uncreatively named “Imperial”) which is common to all seven wells (though local dialects still proliferate, making for distinctions between provinces and cultures.)

    The Guild Empire has grown more powerful than any realm in this region of the Astral Sea. It is aggressive, expansive, and greedy. Its fleets and armies are comprised of people from all seven core wells as well as the Empire’s colonies. Most enlisted people serving as crew or troops are poor volunteers, recruited on the promise of pay and adventure. Others are virtual slaves, victims of impressment. The Officers are from aristocratic families who have purchased their commissions from the Imperial Guild Directorate. Throughout the setting there are Guild Governors, Directors, Assayers, Brokers and an extensive bureaucracy that exists primrily to extract wealth from the colonies and trading mains of the frontier to return to the Core.

    Anatomy of a Well

    The heart of a well is the Ætheric Geyser. These are holes in the Astral Sea which connect to the Elemental Plane of Æther (often referred to as the “Etherial Plane”. The flood of Æther flows out from the geyser until the draw of the Elemental Plane of Æther becomes great enough to pull the flood back to the geyser. In systems with no other bodies, this stabalizes into currents flowing in and out.

    When material bodies move through these currents they disturb these stable currents, diverting them into endless bends and eddies and stagnant pools, making navigation a specialist job. The currents of Æther can be harnessed with sails and rigging, which allow for vessels to move through the Æther.

    Every body in the well blocks the radiant energy shining from the geyser over a limited region behind the hemisphere facing out. These become shadows of the Negative Material Plane, umbral bays where the energies of death replace the spirit power of life.

    The Stuff of Worlds

    The term “world” refers to planets, moons, asteroids and other material bodies orbiting one another within a well. To varying degrees, each such body is composed of a combination of Air, Earth, Fire and Water, though not all elements need to be present for a world-body to exist. The closer these elements are to balance, the more recognizable the denizens of the world are to the common mortal peoples of the Astral Sea; Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, Orcs, etc…

    In general, these bodies all orbit the geyser at the heart of the Well, though exceptions, while uncommon can be found. Different ratios of these four elements will exhibit different characteristics that most Astral-faring sages have recorded in catalogues.

    The influence of the Guild Empire likewise affects the variance of worlds within it’s dominion. The most extreme combinations of elements are increasingly rare, and the amount of balanced bodies are growing more and more common. Even the orbits of the worlds within the core wells have grown more ordered and regulated.

    Out on the Frontier is where the weird extremes can still be found. Worlds permanently in the umbral bay of enormous planets of Air and Water. Systems with two (or more) geysers feeding Æther into the well. Wandering orbits. Rogue worlds drifting through the Astral Sea. This is where the setting focuses it’s attention, far from the rigid structure of the core of the Guild Empire.

    Suns Beyond Counting

    The Astral Sea stretches on forever. The Frontier is the region closest to the Imperial colonies. Out there, there are few realms that can launch a fleet of ships into the Æther and the Astral Sea and no multi-well empires. Free Traders, Pirates, Adventurers and Explorers travel between wells out here and create faint mains to connect them.

    On the Frontier, legendary hordes of treasure can be found, fantastic beings and fabulous locations can be discovered. Campaigns among the Eldritch Suns should focus on near-constant voyages, following the mains, or forging new ones from well to well in search of fame and fortune. No one world should be heavily detailed. Only the adventure locale, and maybe the port needs any attention. Adventurers arrive at port, follow their nose into an adventure and return. Maybe uncovering rumors to their next destination. They fill their hold with supplies and hire some crew and venture forth again.

    This brings up the subject of a crew. The vessels that cross between wells, even the smaller ones, require dozens, if not hundreds of people to crew. Most tabletop roleplaying campaigns have only six adventurers or less, which leaves a lot of NPCs. The crew of a vessel can be used as replacements for fallen adventurers, sources of new adventurers for new players joining the campaign. Henchmen, hirelings and prize crew are also excellent uses of extra crew members.

    Finally the crew are a source of adventure in and of themselves. After all, a mutiny is always possible on the high Astral Sea.

  • O God, Thy Sea is so Great, and My Boat so Small

    O God, Thy Sea is so Great, and My Boat so Small

    Space is BIG

    One common quirk of science-fiction roleplaying, whether it be Traveller, Star Trek, or Battletech is that the Universe starts to seem rather small. The characters jump from world to world having adventures but they only stay as long as the adventure lasts. Once the adventure is done, they’re back on their ship and off to another world, light-years distant. The routine of interstellar travel shrinks an impossibly vast universe into a travelogue. Alien worlds, might be strange, but they’re not memorable, the planet of purple-people-eaters fades into the background along with the forest moon of cannibal teddy bears, and the world of cheese.

    Timekeeping

    One way to keep space feeling big is to keep track of time as it passes. The Universe is not a static place, everything is always in motion. Seasons change, years pass, even the stars themselves grow old and die. It helps to reinforce that your characters are on a voyage if the Universe continues to unfold even as the players hop from system to system. In Traveller, each jump between systems takes a week. Normally this is expressed in downtime, but the important thing for timekeeping is, that as the characters jump from world to world weeks pass as they are isolated in jumpspace.

    The Battletech Universe is different, jumps of 30 light years happen in an instant, but the drives require a week to recharge, and it takes days of sublight travel to reach the jump point where the drives can be engaged. Again, this is often considered downtime, but the time still passes.

    Even Star Trek, where warp travel doesn’t isolate the ship or it’s crew, the distance between systems is *vast*. It takes days or weeks for a vessel, even traveling hundreds of times the speed of light to transition from one system to the next. As Game Master, take advantage of this, let events develop without the characters needing to be involved. Keep the Universe a dynamic, ever changing place.

    Distance and Scale

    It’s time for a little Astronomy. Get out your notebooks and calculators. As I am writing this essay, I have just flown across the North American Continent from Washington DC to Sacramento. That trip of 3,000 miles (4800 km) took all day (actually it also took all night, because of an unexpected layover in Phoenix, but that’s a whole different story). One Astronomical Unit (AU) is 150 million km. One Parallax Second (ParSec) is 3.26 light years. To put all of this in scale, for Dezzy to travel to work takes about an hour (I live 30 miles from the office) by car. For Dezzy to cross the country (the US) takes a day (six-ish hours) by jet. If Dezzy was to fly to Mars, it’s a journey of eight months. Flying out to Jupiter’s moon Europa takes around 6 years. If Dezzy wanted to send a message home at light speed, it would be more-or-less immediate from most places on Earth, 1.25 seconds to the moon, 15 minutes to Mars and 35 minutes to Europa.

    Why am I throwing all these numbers at you? Well, it’s to illustrate a point. Like Douglas Adams famously said many years ago, “Space is big. You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist’s, but that’s just peanuts to space.” Traveling between worlds or star systems shouldn’t feel like driving to the next town over or even flying across country. In-system travel should take at least days, if not weeks unless the vessel is moving at 75% of C (light speed) or more. The point of emphasizing distance is to impart the vastness of space to the players.

    Because of the enormous distances involved, the setting needs to feel different based on scale. This can be accomplished not only with travel times, but with communication lag.

    The Mail Must Go Through

    On a planetary/ moon scale, real time communications is fairly straightforward. We experience it today in our decidedly non-science-fiction real world voice and video calls can be made in real time anywhere on the planet where a signal can be reached. The slight delay to lunar orbit can make conversation slow, and possibly awkward, but not impractical. Physical mail can be sent nearly anywhere in a mater of weeks, or even days or hours if extra resources are employed.

    On an interplanetary scale, real-time communications are not really possible. Even between nearby planets (assuming both worlds are in their close orbits), electromagnetic communications still take between fifteen minutes to an hour to reach their destination. Conversations start to resemble e-mail or messaging, even with voice or video

    Communication with the outer worlds takes hours or days. Relays are needed to even send an electromagnetic signal out that far that can deliver something as dense as voice or video communications. Settings at this scale begin to resemble the telegraph and rail eras of the 19th century. News travels over continental distances, but need to move between telegraph or railroad stations. If the recipient of the message is five days away from the closest station, then all news that recipient receives is at least five days old. Even if the setting is heavily populated, it is still possible and even preferable to present a tangible sense of isolation

    On an interstellar scale, unless Faster Than Light travel and communication is employed, news travel at generational speeds. Its simply not possible to maintain a cohesive society at this scale. Without FTL travel, an interstellar setting is a planetary or interplanetary setting. To use an example from fiction, in the novel Three Body Problem (spoilers), the invading fleet from Alpha Centauri (rougly 4.3 light years) takes 300 years to journey to the Sol system. That’s using technology so far advanced beyond what humans have developed that it may as well be magic.

    FTL Travel Changes Everything

    Interstellar settings with Faster-Than-Light travel flips communications on it’s head. Even in settings where direct communications through subspace, or hyperspace relays are possible, it is often quicker to send a ship from place to place delivering messages. This can be physical media, where a mail ship drops off packages and mail to the starport, but it can also be electronic or digital media where the mail ship simply flies in-system and transmits their messages to their destinations.

    This brings an Interstellar setting to resemble the world-spanning empires of the 16th to 19th centuries. Worlds take weeks or months to interact, large interstellar empires and megacorporations lay most of their authority on colonial governors or directors of local headquarters.

    There is a brilliant map in Megatraveller that displays how news of Emperor Strephon’s assassination spread throughout the Third Imperium. The common communication routes were the Express Boats that could jump 4 parsecs in a week, which was the limiting factor for the spread of the event. There was a second communication route used by the Imperial government and the Navy that used Couriers that could jump 6 parsecs in a week. Using this map, the GM could see who knew about the assassination, when, and how they would react.

    The map also illustrates how much distance the news had to travel. In the setting, Emperor Strephon was assassinated on the 132nd day of the Imperial Year 1116. That news took 200 days to reach Terra, on the rimward fringe of the Imperium. That was from Emergency jumps running a Pony Express route (delivering the mail through a relay of riders and fresh horses) at a pace of around 850 C. That shows that the Third Imperium is really, really vast.

    Keep Real-Time Communication Exclusive

    The Star Trek and Star Wars settings have tropes where conversations over enormous distances occur. Which works against the scope of the setting. The Enterprise is often shown as the “only ship in the Sector” that can respond to the inciting incident of the episode. The orders are delivered from StarFleet headquarters in a direct Subspace communication. Even though the Enterprise was thousands of light years distant Captain Kirk could have a video chat with the Admiralty, and receive updates while delivering progress reports. Lord Vader has video chats with Emperor Palpatine from the Phone Booth on board his Super Star Destroyer while the Emperor is at the heart of the Empire on Coruscant. This shrinks the universe to planetary scale. It’s no more inconvenient to phone HQ for info than it is to open a Zoom Call to Hong Kong from London.

    Both settings retain their sense of scale by showing that these real-time communications as requiring equipment that demands resources that are unavailable to the average citizen. Vader is the Dark Lord of the Sith, he has the biggest and bestest, literally a “Super” Star Destroyer. The Enterprise is the Flagship of the Federation. Subspace and Hyperspace Communications are not available or even a component of adventure sized ships like the characters would be crew of. A small colony carving out a settlement may not have the resources to build such a communications array.

    The Star Trek movie Into Darkness and Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith really undermines the scope of their settings (spoilers for both movies). In Into Darkness there’s a scene where “John Harrison” escapes capture on Earth by teleporting to the heart of the Klingon Empire. Using technology explained as “Transwarp Beaming” but it was effectively instant teleportation over hundreds of light years. The Enterprise follows at Warp and arrives close enough to threaten Harrison with a long-range bombardment in an indeterminate, but very short interval. This is a planetary scale event. The distances are just numbers because there is no appreciable time investment.

    In your campaigns, if your adventures travel interstellar distance this casually, then alien worlds become little more than exotic cities that can be reached by tourists on vacation. The sense of wonder is erased.

    Time is Relative

    In settings where Near-Lightspeed and Faster than Light travel is a factor, characters can age faster or slower than the rest of the setting when traveling. This is another way to emphasize the distances involved.

    When traveling at Near-Lightspeed, the subject of relativistic speeds age slower. Characters who regularly travel at these velocities start to subjectively move forward in time. They leave one world, travel for a week at relativistic speeds, and when they arrive at their destination, they have only aged a week, but the setting has gone through months of time. The GM needs to juggle three periods of time. The time from the origin passes quickly as the characters are in transit, the time on board ship seems to pass normally, and the time at the destination would be the distance travelled divided by the velocity of the vessel. This allows characters to experience vast spans of time over the course of their career while their physical life spans are unchanged.

    At Faster than Light Travel, the relativistic equation starts to flip on it’s head. Especially in settings where Jump Drives crosses the distance instantly, but the vessel has to spend a period of time (usually a week) in hyperspace, or jump space. The characters age, but the setting doesn’t. This starts to age the characters faster than the universe around them.

    In Warp-Drive settings, the ships spend travel time in a bubble of real space while the universe outside slows to a standstill. When the ship emerges, the crew, like a Jump Drive crew have aged the time they were at warp, but the universe has only aged a much smaller interval. It takes the Enterprise much, much less time to move through the galaxy at warp than light does.

    This allows adventurers the possibility of outrunning the consequences of their actions (for a time). So long as the adventurers can travel faster than the news of what they did, they can arrive in a new system before anyone can know what they’ve done. Of course, the trap here is that the adventurers need to keep moving. At least until the consequence exhausts it’s urgency.

    Setting Scale and Campaign Scope

    It’s important to apply the scale of your setting to complement the scope of the campaign you wish to run. It is tempting, especially with a game like Traveller with it’s procedurally generated system for creating worlds to create sectors’ worth of star systems, worlds, and moons. It can be fun, dreaming up pocket empires, cities, starports and NPCs to populate them. However, unless you plan to run a series of campaigns over the course of years, developing anything beyond a subsector beforehand is mostly futile. The same goes for system detail. Unless an extended adventure takes place in a single system, most groups of adventurers will never explore any given place beyond the world where the adventure takes place, and even then, the adventurers often only encounter those locations described in the adventure itself.

    Point being, unless the adventurers choose to visit a location, they won’t. You as the GM can encourage the adventurers to visit a location, but the ultimate decision is with the players. It’s the GM’s job to seed reasons for the players to want to visit the interesting locations that are designed. That being said, as GM you can present a campaign that happens in a single star system, with a plot similar to the Expanse. That type of campaign will resemble an Interplanetary Setting, with it’s distances and travel/ communication times. Everything outside of the campaign system doesn’t need any real detail. News can arrive as the GM chooses, but it is not anything that needs to be designed beforehand. Don’t make more work for yourself than you must.

    There is a balance for a campaign that revolves around travel. For example, in a Battletech campaign where the characters make up a mercenary company, contracting their military service with planetary governments and empires for c-bills, interstellar travel is common. The Company fulfills a Contract on a world, gets paid, and then they’re off to the next contract on the next world. System Detail only needs to be relevant to the current contract, and possibly outlines of the next contracts on offer. This is more of an example of a Interstellar scope on an Interstellar scale. While the campaign may never visit more than a dozen worlds or so, you as the GM can make the setting seem big. That’s part of the appeal. The mercenaries aren’t stuck on just one world or in one system. The conflicts cover hundreds of systems and thousands of light years of distance. Part of the appeal of a campaign like this is adventuring in space.

    Deep Space Exploration, like Star Trek is the ultimate expression of Campaign Scope and Setting Scale. Leaving the familiar stars behind to explore… (dare I say?) strange, new worlds. Here, the GM can use time dilation to illustrate how vast the universe is. Traveling from world to world, and revisiting some can show how much time passes on the worlds left behind. Friends who stayed on the outpost the adventurers visited at the beginning of the campaign, can have aged significantly by the time they return and the adventurers have only aged a couple of years. Campaigns out here are stories of isolation and self-sufficiency. Like the crew of a ship far beyond the boundaries of Empire, help is months or years away if it can be reached at all. News from home can be years old. I’d even go so far as to make FTL communication like subspace or hyperspace have significant delays. The goal for campaigns of this sort is, like the crew from Star Trek: Voyager, is to turn the characters’ starship into it’s own little world sailing through the stars.

    West Marches, Distant Stars

    A gaming group can adopt a setting to run a multiple-campaign game using science fiction. In this framework, GMs develop different areas in the setting, and multiple groups of players can experience adventures travelling between GMs and their areas. Coordination is key, understanding where each group of players are in time and space will inform what is occurring in the universe as it unfolds. Groups that encounter one another can exchange news and even crew. As a campaign like this matures, it becomes epic. Like a science-fiction franchise, the more campaigns that play becomes identifiable as unique expressions of the setting while remaining a part of the greater setting.

    Conclusion

    I’ve presented, a lot in this essay. Turns out, since space is big, discussing role-playing in a space setting starts to get big as well. All of this doesn’t need to be applied to any given rpg as a whole. Like all science fiction gaming, the freedom to pick and choose what works for you is a part of the fun.

    Happy Star Trek Day

  • 3051

    3051

    Battletech’s Lost Year

    3049 and 3050 were disastrous years for the Inner Sphere. The Clan Invasion began. The invading, mysterious armies looked and fought like aliens. The peripheral bandit kingdoms and pirate havens fell almost without a fight. What few reports leaked from those first battles showed everything from unknown war machines that violated all principles of known battlemech engineering to jump-capable warships the like hadn’t been seen for 200 years, since the First and Second Succession Wars.

    When the invasion washed over the peripheral systems of the Lyran Commonwealth, the Rasalhague Republic and the Draconis Combine proved the worst stories true. The Successor State Houses were neither unified, nor ready for the four coordinated Juggernauts that went from victory to victory, marching steadily towards the heart of the Inner Sphere. By the end of 3050, the Houses of the Inner Sphere had won only a bare handful of battles. All while losing hundreds of systems and nearly the entirety of the Rasalhague Republic, including its capital at Rasalhague.

    Radstadt

    On the last day of October in 3050, the Elected Prince of Rasalhague, fleeing the loss of the capital system jumped into the Radstadt system, recently conquered by Clan Wolf, and hosting the IlKhan’s flagship, the Dire Wolf. In the chaos that followed, the Elected Prince burned their ship hard to escape, with the Clan scrambling to pursue. The Flying Drakøns, the Elected Prince’s fighter escort bought time for their Prince to escape by engaging in a desperate, suicidal attack on the Dire Wolf, forcing the clan aerospace squadrons to break their pursuit of their prey to defend their IlKhan. A Rasalhague pilot, Tyra Miraborg dove her crippled Shiloh fighter into the bridge of the Dire Wolf, killing IlKhan Leo Showers. She would never know how her sacrifice would change the course of the invasion.

    A Year of Peace

    The loss of the IlKhan threatened the unity of the invasion. By tradition and culture, the Clans were exorbitantly competitive in all aspects of their society. From the individual to entire Clans. Only the IlKhan had the invested political power to lead a coordinated operation across all the Clans as a whole. Even then, each of the invading Clans would compete and bid against one another for the “honor” of attacking systems. Warriors and Commanders would engage in duels for rank, positions, equipment, or spoils.

    The Khans of the invading clans met at Radstadt to decide a way forward, and chose to elect a new Ilkhan. Thus, they called all of the Bloodnamed warriors in the invasion, and returned to the distant systems from which they came from. Leaving behind only second and third line troops to garrison the conquered systems while they elected a new IlKhan. The process would take a full year. That year was 3051.

    Peace for the Inner Sphere, Occupation for the Clan

    When the elite of the clans left to elect their new IlKhan, they left Provisional Garrison Clusters (PGCs) consisting of the freeborn, the disgraced, and solhama to hold their conquests. 1,000 light-years from their homes, barely supplied, and unsupported, the occupying armies and aerospace forces were spread thin across hundreds of hostile systems. The PGCs were subject to guerilla raids, resistance movements, and insurrections; ugly, violent, all-too-personal conflicts fought in urban centers among civilian populations.

    The leaders of the PGCs were placed in an impossible situation. Forced to govern captive populations, maintain order, and defend against revolts or uprisings without losing any captured territory, or resources. They were expected to make do with what they were given, and remain victorious in any and all conflicts with the Inner Sphere. In short, the armies were expected to accomplish the impossible, then hand control back to the bloodnamed warriors upon their return. If successful in their mission, they would not be thanked and only barely acknowledged for doing a job as expected. Anything less than meeting that standard would mean a loss of honor at best, disgrace and reassigned to the labor caste at worst.

    Probing Attacks

    The armies of the Inner Sphere that opposed the invasion were almost reduced to nothing. Entire Regiments and Brigades had been wiped out as the invading Juggernaut rolled over system after system. When the invasion abruptly paused, The Lyran Commonwealth and Draconis Combine wasted no time in throwing together lance, and company sized reconnaissance forces to test the readiness of the occupiers. Scouting missions, Raids, and Smash-and-Grab operations struck all along the Front. In the first months of 3051, these were irregular formations of shattered units that escaped systems as they fell, or bottom-of-the-barrel mercenary outfits signed on to hasty contracts, even ceremonial units and Solaris VII gladiators were folded or pressed into service. Resistance operations were contacted and given support, propaganda from the Inner Sphere was smuggled into occupied systems, surviving militias were given supplies smuggled in system by networks of criminals who had operated black markets for centuries before the Clans invaded.

    Following the Outreach Summit of January 3051, the Lyran Commonwealth, Rasalhauge Republic, and Draconis Combine, coordinating with the Federated Suns, Capellan Confederation and Free Worlds League began to apply increasing pressure to the thinly-spread and poorly supplied Provisional Garrison Clusters the Clans had left behind.

    Resistance and Insurgency

    As 3051 wore on, the intelligence services of the Inner Sphere polities developed extensive deep-cover networks throughout occupied space. By the time the Clans resumed their offensive in November of 3051, The Inner Sphere had become well-prepared for the Clan threat.

    For their part, the clans under the leadership of newly-elected IlKhan Ulric Kerensky were better unified and better able to understand the nations they were invading. But the Clans continued to have a blind spot where their Provisional Garrison Clusters were concerned. Most to the leadership continued to disregard the analysis and opinions of the very people they left behind for a year. Lessons learned by a hard-fought occupation, Intelligence gathered from first-hand sources went unheard because they came from the mouths of the despised.

    3051 as a Developing Story

    3051 represents a lot of unexplored, untapped potential for story. The Provisional Garrison Clusters occupying the captured worlds have several growth arcs. Colonization, or using a large underclass to expand Imperial ambitions, or being a (very literal) outsider in someone else’s home… or just being a person, used by an impersonal aristocracy, taken far from the place where they grew up, among the people, music, food they are familiar with and dropped somewhere else where everything is alien.

    We have had this story, in our very real planet Earth for thousands of years. Through the lens of ridiculous, giant, stompy robots and 8 foot tall genetically engineered super-soldiers, we can tell our own versions of this story. As novels, as campaigns, as scenario packs or as table top roleplaying adventures.

    Going all they way back to the Iliad

    In college I read a treatment of the Iliad. When the armies of King Agamemnon built their infamous horse and infiltrated the gates of Troy, the ensuing sack was motivated by far more than simple plunder and the rape of a city. The soldiers of Agamemnon had been laying siege for 10 years. Ten years away from home. Ten years across the sea in another land, fighting and dying without contact with their families, or their communities that are, for all intents and purposes, on another planet.

    When Troy fell, the soldiers in the army took out ten years of personal sacrifice and frustration on the newly-defenseless citizens of Troy. They took a bloody revenge for their lost decade of life. This perspective is from a story that is some 2,500 years old.

    Getting Real for a Moment at the End

    As I’m writing this, and when I’ll publish this essay on September 2, 2025, I’m a couple days more than two weeks from my 56th birthday. I have lived my entire life in the U S A. When I was young, the most recent war my parents’ generation lived through was Vietnam. I was 22 in 1991 during the First Gulf War, and though I wasn’t serving in the armed forces, most of my peers were, and they were deployed to Kuwait. One of my very close friends witnessed the “Highway of Death”. He, and my youngest brother were deployed to Iraq during the Second Gulf War in the years following 9/11. My grandparents’ generation fought in World War 2.

    Today, right now, there is a terrible war in Gaza, where my country is complicit (if not outright a direct participant) in a Genocide of the Palestinian people. There is another war in Ukraine, where the Russian Federation has been waging an aggressive war of conquest since 2022 and if you count from the annexation of the Crimean Peninsula, you can argue there has been a state of war since 2014.

    I believe it’s important to tell our own stories about these subjects of war and struggle from our perspective. It’s the job to re-contextualize the lessons of history through their own lens and pass them forward so the next generation can learn from them. It’s our turn, and if you’re younger than me, it’s your turn too. We will always have war, we’ll have evil violence inflicted on each other. In 25 years, there will be another war in another part of the world and the youth of that time will be told to fight in it.

    But, the thing about nationalism in war, it seeks to dehumanize “the enemy”. The people on the other side of the conflict aren’t human, they can’t be. Because it’s soul-destroying to kill another human being, regardless if the cause is justified or not. We must keep reminding ourselves, with each passing year that people are human. Not sub-humans, not “animals” but people. We need to see ourselves in others. That’s called Empathy, and if we lose that trait, then we might as well start dropping atomics on each other until no more tribes remain.

    I am sorry/ not sorry for harshing the mood about painting up and playing with toy models of big stompy robots with politics and the real world that we all need to escape from for a couple of hours every weekend. It needed to be said, though. If the vehicle for showing how alike we are is to pretend to be space-cowboys and eight-foot-tall super-soldiers, then buckle up buttercup, we’re going on a trip.

    Special Thanks

    I’ve been playing Battletech since ’86 or there-abouts. This universe isn’t from my imagination, it’s from the collective brilliance of thousands of minds over more than four decades. The current stewards of this legacy are the fine folks at Catalyst Game Labs. I’m playing in their sandbox

    There is also a Battletech Wiki over at sarna.net. This is a heroic work that catalogues the endless details of the Battletech universe, I may not remember when the Outreach Summit happened in Universe, but Sarna does. I appreciate the resource, and encourage you to go give them a look.

    I also want to thank the Black Pants Legion for all their hard work. It’s through them that I’ve rediscovered my love for the lore of Battletech. I feel like I’m a teenager again playing Battletech with my friends and dreaming of how awesome it would be to pilot my WHM-6R Warhammer through the battlefields of the 31st Century.

  • Hand Grenades and Fireballs

    Hand Grenades and Fireballs

    When your friends are close enough to get singed

    From it’s wargaming roots, D&D has allowed Area of Effect attacks to split fighters in melee with one another. The phrase “I cast the fireball to hit the monster but not my friends” has been around since the beginning. Precisely measuring out squares or inches on a battle-mat to include the monsters and not the characters is a refined skill for grid-tacticians everywhere.

    I’ve always hated it. It slows combat to a crawl as players agonize over where the center of their Fireball, or their Cone of Cold, or Entangle Spell should be to get the most enemies and no party members.

    For me, this also breaks immersion. The splitting of combattants in melee assumes that two fighters stand still until they move to a new position. Bashing away at one another like a pair of Rock-em Sock-em Robots, anchored to the spot. This is not how fighting happens. Look at MMA fights, or boxing matches, wrestling (both intramural and pro), or even a football play or rugby scrum. Ain’t no one standing still long enough to precisely drop a 20 foot radius ball of fire so one guy gets burned ant the other doesn’t. All fighters in a melee are in constant motion, often grappling or piled up on the ground.

    I use the following House Rule in my games with regards to what happens when a spellcaster tries to put the edge of an AoE spell between two fighters in melee with one another.

    Area of Effect Attacks into Melee

    • Anyone who is in melee combat is affected by any AoE that would affect any combatant in that combat in that round. i.e – a spellcaster is not able to position an AoE effect in such a way that one combatant in a melee is affected while others are not. It’s either everyone in the combat or no one in the combat.
    • There is a “fringe zone” around the edge of an AoE that extends outside the limit of the AoE. Anyone within the fringe (a 5 foot (1.5 meter) border) who is also in melee combat with someone in the AoE is still affected, but in the instance of where a Saving Throw is necessary, the targets in this fringe zone have Advantage to that Saving Throw.

    Example: We have three potential targets of a fireball.
    Target 1 is the intended target of the spell and is within the AOE. Target 1 is affected as normal and makes a Saving Throw as per the rules.
    Target 2 is in the fringe zone and is in melee with Target 1. Target 2 is affected, but has Advantage to their Saving Throw.
    Target 3 is in the fringe zone and is not in melee with either Target 1 or Target 2. They are not affected by the spell.

    • If all combatants are in the fringe zone of an AoE, but none are in the AoE itself, no one in the combat is affected by the spell.
    • If a target is in the fringe zone but is attacking with a weapon that has the reach quality (like a Halberd), then the target is not affected by the AoE.

    Example #2: Same three potential targets of the fireballThe circumstances are the same, except Target 3 is outside the fringe zone, but is in melee combat with Target 2. In this case, Target 3is considered in the fringe zone.

    Example #3: as the previous example but with the inclusion of Target 4who is outside the fringe zone. If Target 4is in melee combat with Target 3, Target 4is considered outsidethe fringe zone. If an AoE spell has no Saving Throw (like SLEEP) then anyone affected by the spell is affected normally, whether or not they are in the finge zone. If an AoE has a Magic Attack Roll, and not a Saving Throw anyone affected by the fringe zone has a +5 Bonus to their Armor Class.

  • Failing Forward

    Failing Forward

    Making Failure less Frustrating

    There are nights when the dice just hate everyone at the table. Except the DM. Players can’t roll above a 6 and their characters can’t accomplish even the simplest task. Nothing happens and the characters are stuck. The only door blocking their path can’t be opened, the speed-bump combat becomes a slog of swing-and-a-miss, the stream, easily crossed, ends up washing the whole party away. The first time these things happen, it’s kinda funny, “Remember that goblin that no one could hit and we had to just run away?”. But over the course of a game session it looses it’s charm, “Failed AGAIN? I have a plus 12 to the roll and I can’t roll higher than 3! @&#! this dungeon!

    Failing forward helps with this. The basic principle is this. Your character succeeds in their roll, but if they fail to score higher than the Target Number, the character suffers a consequence. The classic example of this is “you force the door open, but make such a racket that anyone within a hundred feet hears your entry.” Or, “You knife the guard, but, as he falls, he slaps the panic button at their station” characters can progress, but there’s an added challenge.

    Let the Player Choose

    Often when a character fails forward, it helps engagement to ask the player what the consequence should be. This helps give the player a hand in the fate of their character, and gives the Game Master a clue as to what the player is expecting from the adventure. The player should express their character’s consequence as briefly as they can. The consequence should be proportional to the degree of failure, and the consequence should never be more effective than success.

    The Game Master could alternatively let the player group choose. This helps to avoid putting a player, who might not be comfortable improvising like this, on the spot. The final decision on consequence needs to have the consent of the character’s player, and approved by the Game Master. This encourages everyone at the table to remain engaged with the game as it’s being played.

    Keep it Proportional

    As mentioned, failing forward should never be a better result than success. Failing forward progresses the adventure at a cost. If the failure is slight, or the task relatively minor, failing forward should apply slight consequences. If the failure is great, or the task critical, failing forward should extract a much greater price.

    The goal here is to allow a path forward with a cost. Some of the build up of narrative drama grows from dwindling resources. Dropping your character’s rations down a crevasse or breaking your lantern can be just as tense as loosing 2d10 hit points.

    A Brief Word About Combat

    I’m not a big fan of brushing off damage as a fail forward. Just having a minimum rolled damage, or half-damage result tends to throw off the balance of monster stats in Dungeons and Dragons. Furthermore, it is not any less frustrating and it doesn’t change anything except to continue to whittle down the adversaries’ hit points. Again I’d fail forward, allowing say a hit on the target, but the character hurts themselves for minimum damage, or they loose some ammunition. Or they don’t do damage but gain a cumulative +1 bonus to hit each time they miss until they do hit. Maybe they do damage, but the GM gets to move their character 5 feet (roughly 1.5 meters) maybe placing the character in a less advantageous position.

    My point here is that combat, whether you employ failing forward or not, should be dynamic, even if you’re not playing on a battlemap. Very little is less exciting than endlessly whittling away hit points from one another’s pile. But, that is a whole ‘nother essay.

    Things That Should Not Fail Forward

    Failing forward is not appropriate for all situations. Saving Throws, Death Saves, All-or-Nohing tasks are but a few. With these situations, one either succeeds, or fails and suffers the consequences. Also, NPCs and adversaries should never fail forward. The GM shouldn’t ever be frustrated by the Players’ Characters’ success in the adventure. TTRPGs aren’t adversarially competitive games (even Call of Cthulhu!). Or at least they aren’t any more.

    Remember, the Game Master’s job is to provide challenges to the players who resolve them through their characters. TTRPGs have evolved a long way from it’s wargaming roots. Even if you’re not “telling a story” with your adventure, you are engaging in drama. The purpose, is to have fun, not slog away under a series of cold dice rolls.

  • A City of Miseries

    A City of Miseries

    Arjenvís; part 1

    Somewhere within the DezzyVerse, the city of Arjenvís is a world unto itself. No one travels to Arjenvís, no one seeks it out. For Arjenvís is alive, and it hungers for mortals and their souls. Arjenvís draws their victims in through dreams, steals them away when they are wandering lost, takes them from the alleys and streets and tunnels.

    Founding

    Arjenvís was built on the Zyle Wednye cape at a slow bend in the Erixahn river, where the Nozca Kreft empties. The cape rises to a thousand feet above the river. A commanding point that could control the river from the bend all the way to the sea.

    The Zyle Wednye ridge held another treasure that would make Arjenvís grow into a metropolis of 125,000 souls at it’s peak. Wegnvia Coal burned hotter and longer than any other feul known. The Zyle Wednye ridge was rich in it. Mining coal built the city into a powerhouse. The Wliajenya mine carved endless tunnels below the ridge, a black maze of stifling heat, fumes and coal dust.

    Factories, mills and workhouses grew within the city to build it’s population. The workhouses especially, prisons really, fed countless lives to the mine to dig Wegnvia Coal. The hunger for more bodies to work the mine developed a brisk trade in the commodity of people. The aristocracy of Arjenvís, the Vlatza who ruled the city, the Boyars who governed it’s 13 canton, the Arzpralak and Praladts of the Vyara Zabor Church bought and sold the undesired and desperate from kingdoms and realms everywhere that the Wegnvia Coal was demanded.

    The city became prosperous and wealthy above, and an industrial nightmare of suffering below. The excesses and debauchery of the aristocracy, grown wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, the desperate poverty of the smallfolk crowding the slums of the Brzek Kreft, serfs working the fields of “the shift” on the low shore of the Erixahn, and the suffering and hopelessness of the indentured laborers in the depths of the Wliajenya mine awoke something, foul in the heart of the city.

    The twelve canton of Arjenvís, the City of Miseries. Map by the Author

    The Black Burning Dawn

    The hungers of Arjenvís became so great that the common folk rose up to demand some measure of humanity upon the monstrous inhumanity of the Vlatza and the Boyars. What began as a labor strike, spread from the Wliajenya mine to the workhouses, and to all the desperate poor of Arjenvís. Not since the Beggars’ War have the masses of Arjenvís swollen underclass expressed their anger and rage against their overlords. The labor strike turned into an uprising and then a revolt. Every effort to end the violence only amplified the horror and the evil within the City of Miseries.

    A march of striking smallfolk clogged the Prohodt (the wide boulevard that climbed the back slope of the Zyle Wednye ridge to the palace of Kziaze Dwohr) until the armed soldiers of the city guard masacred them. The revolt turned into a revolution with the Noble estates and households under siege and assassinations being carried out almost nightly. Reprisal fallowed reprisal and blood flowed freely in the streets Arjenvís for more than a month.

    One morning, before dawn, the Boyars’ army of household soldiers and mercenaries marched on the Wliajenya Gate, the stronghold that controlled both the access to the mines, and the Glenvoky Road that winds down to the north face of the Zyle Wednye to the Trzy Makti (“Three Mothers”) workhouses, center of the strike and the revolt. Supported by new magic from the priests of the Vyara Zabor church and “Mazynik” (Automata), a bloody battle pushed down Glenvoky Road towards the Trzy Makti and into the Wliajenya mine, inflicting terrible casualties on the smallfolk regardless if they were fighting, surrendering, or fleeing.

    When dawn came it was different from any sunrise anyone had ever witnessed. It began with a green-blue glow on the horizon. The sun rose as a black circle in the sky burning from below in green, blue and violet flames. Fighting throughout the city abruptly stopped as the horror rose in the sky. Panic washed over the city as people sought a reason for the Black Burning Dawn.

    Under that sun, the aristocracy of Arjenvís underwent sudden metamorphosis. As the Black Burning Sun crossed the sky the mortal members of the noble households changed from mortal folk to monsters. They became preadators, vampires, werewolves, ghouls, ghasts, liches and hundreds of others whose curse defies definition. The common mortal folk were reduced to half-alive husks, their souls consumed by the city.

    The Curse of Arjenvís

    Arjenvís is “alive”. While other realms of terror have a singular figure as the source of evil in their domain, Arjenvís is both the source of evil and the domain itself. The majority of it’s native population, the smallfolk who worked the mines, filled the workhouses and toiled in the fields are now half-alive parodies of their former selves. They provide sustenance (of a sort) to the monstrous fiends that Arjenvís transformed it’s nobility into. Vampires can feed on them, and avoid starving, but they will not grow strong, nor feel the rush of life that they would when feeding on a mortal being with a soul.

    The half-alive also are unable to die, even if their corpus is destroyed, or consumed, they will arise as flesh-and-blood from the depths of the Wliajenya Mine and return to their pantomime lives, until misfortune befalls them once more. The monsters are similarly trapped in this cycle of rebirth. Arjenvís never lets it’s people go.

    Arjenvís trapped time itself. The same year in the city repeats itself over and over again in a monotonous churn. No new children are born (save for those born during this cursed year away) no one ages, no one dies. Even those who would have died of natural causes during the year find themselves reborn within the Wliajenya Mine.

    The unholy hunger of Arjenvís will never be satisfied by the half-alive, or the monstrous aristocracy. The City of Miseries reaches out across the Cosmos and draws in mortal victims and ensnares them into it’s fog-shrouded and blood-drenched streets. Escaping Arjenvís is nearly impossible, approaching the city gates will inexplicably relocate the hostage to another canton within the city. The fugitive will turn a corner, and find themselves in another place, wandering the streets. Escaping on the Erixahn or Nozca Kreft rivers is similarly frustrating. The raft or boat clears a bend in the river and finds itself approaching Arjenvís again. If there are secret ways out, they either remain undiscovered or are jealously guarded by a scant few.

    Dark Streets, Dark Hearts

    Art by Kazitier

    There are several centers of power within Arjenvís, The city is ruled by the Vlatza Juliusz Dzynis, each canton is governed by Boyars, the Vyara Zabor Church is ruled by the Arzykapwan (High Bishop) through their Praladt (Bishops) and their Kziadz (Priests). Even before the Black Burning Dawn, there were feuds and rivalries among the institutions and households in Arjenvís. The Curse has changed very little. The old hatreds have not died.

    The Kolegium was responsible for the technological advancements in Arjenvís, Wegnvia Coal burns at temperatures which allow for the wonders of steam power and clockwork engines. The wonders of the Kolegium workshops have become steampunk terrors after the Black Burning Dawn. The Inżynierowie (Engineers) have been transformed in the same manner of the nobility and the church.

    Life in Arjenvís is cheap and violent. Even death may not permit escape.

  • The Silver Princess

    The Silver Princess

    Adapting early D&D Adventures

    One of my favorite old adventures for D&D is Palace of the Silver Princess by Jean Wells (and re-written by Tom Moldvay). I want to focus on Jean’s adventure, because it is really good and introduces a role-playing element that was missing for those first half-dozen years of D&D, a story.

    The controversy surrounding this adventure deserves mention, and it has been the subject of a huge volume of articles and analysis over these past four and a half decades. I won’t rehash it here. It involves that mix of Satanic Panic, Sexual Panic, and Mysogyny that was sweeping the MidWest in 1980 and would consume the country for the next decade. It got Jean’s original published adventure pulled from shelves, then rewritten by tom with some controversial illustrations removed to appease the angry moralists (who wouldn’t ever play D&D because they got far more satisfaction from displaying Moral Fiber).

    A cropped image of Illusion of the Decapus by Laura Roslof.

    Art by Erol Otus. Soup’s on fam!

    I can feel my “moral fiber” fraying at the ends… Again, if you want to explore this early controversy in D&D, there are a lot of very detailed and attributed articles out there.

    The thing I like about Palace of the Silver Princess, and why I choose it to adapt it to 5th edition and run it for the new generation of gamers is what Jean Wells brought to D&D through it. Palace of the Silver Princess is a Fairy-Tale Romance. With a hidden valley, a lost princess and a bold knight all under a wicked curse that a group of heroes can break.

    I also believe that this is what a woman’s perspective (in 1980, when beardy wargaming dudes were arguing over whether or not a Bec-de-Corbin was more effective against Field Plate than the Bohemian Ear Spoon) brought to role-playing games. The effort was both well appreciated by this blogger, and well punished by executives.

    Getting to the Point

    When I adapt these adventures to play in 5th edition D&D (but, these principles can be adapted to the game system you prefer) I start with the source material. Most of these old adventures can be found as pdfs for cheap all over the internet. What you’ll need most is a notebook or text file to jot down notes.

    First, read through the adventure. For most of these early adventures it’s not much. 32 to 64 pages, anything longer would normally be called a “supermodule” even then, Temple of Elemental Evil is only 128 pages long. Read through the whole thing, take notes.

    Next, compare the encounters to the resources in the rule set you want to convert to. Most adversaries have stat blocks in the rules you are using. Orcs, for example can be found in every edition of D&D (even the 2024 monster manual see my article about it). For most adventures, the balance of the encounters doesn’t change all that much in the context of the rules. If anything, many encounters get easier. Going back to Orcs for a moment, in first edition AD&D and BECMI, orcs are a hard fight for a first level party, one-to-one. They often have more hit points than most first level classes, and equal hit points to a fighter. They fight like a fighter, and have equivalent armor and weapons. By the time 3rd edition and later, the balance swings towards the player-characters. Same holds true for most other creatures in these early versions.

    Adjust the encounters. after reading through the adventure and noting all the encounters as written, take a look in the context of the adventure’s plot. If it looks too hard, adjust some details to make it easier. If it looks too easy, beef it up a little. Don’t just consider the raw stat blocks, look at the context of the encounter. Is it an ambush? Is the adversary asleep, or distracted, or can they be easily fooled. All encounters are not toe-to-toe combats. Consider the encounter’s challenge in light of what it is supposed to do for the adventure. This is also your opportunity as Game Master to tailor the adventure that is published for a wide audience to your group of player characters.

    Don’t be afraid to change things. Does one of the characters have a flaw that drives them to hate a monster type, but that monster doesn’t appear in the adventure? Add them in. It’s really easy to take an Orc encounter and make it a Hobgoblin encounter. Do your players not like fighting Zombies? Replace them with a construct of a similar CR. Does your setting not have flashy magic? Change that spell from fireball to a pot of flaming oil that drops in the same spot. Tailoring an otherwise generic adventure to your specific party of player-characters will make the adventure a lot more impactful and memorable.

    Finally, take all these notes and make them easy for you to reference during game play. You don’t have to rewrite the whole thing. Just look at the notebook you wrote all these thoughts down on and put it on a format that will help you run the adventure at the table. Don’t rely on having the books at the table, then at the start of the encounter, flip back and forth. That will kill all the momentum that the adventure is building and frustrate both you and your players. My point here is to make it easy on yourself in the way that’s easiest for you to understand. If you are brand new and haven’t developed this skill, don’t worry. Use the format that is printed in the adventure as a guide. As you run more adventures in D&D, you’ll discover what works best for you.

    Old Adventures are a Great Resource

    There is now a fifty-year library of content for Dungeons and Dragons now. Not just Dungeons and Dragons published by Wizards of the Coast and TSR before that. There are adventures and content published by dozens (if not hundreds) of third-party companies going back to the beginning. There is an inexhaustible supply of adventures that we can choose from.

    Lots of these early adventures were touchstones for the D&D community. Adventures like Keep on the Borderlands, Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh, Village of Hommlet, Slave Pits of the Undercity, Vault of the Drow and so many others were run and played at countless table, and it formed a common reference for players. It didn’t even matter that your table didn’t play in the supported campaign world, you could plug the adventure into your home setting and play it nearly out of the box. When you use these adventures at your table, for your players, who may have not even heard of it, you connect yourself to this legacy.

    One More Thing

    Converting these old adventures also teach you skills that can be used in your Game Master career. By reading and analyzing adventures, you are teaching yourself how they are designed. You can learn what elements of adventure design appeal to you and use these skills in creating your own adventures.

    This is a technique taught to art students for centuries. Go to where the masters’ works are on display, bring your supplies and reproduce it. The student’s effort probably won’t look like the masterwork, but it will teach the student to apply the same techniques and learn skills that their instructor couldn’t teach.

    Converting the early adventures for fantasy roleplaying into a modern system will improve your GM skills. They might even inspire you to design your own unique adventures.