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  1. - Top - End - #211
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Flumph

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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Kind of a problem with the "healer" role in RPGs - if healing is important enough to be fulfilling as a primary role, then it's also pretty much necessary to have, meaning those who can heal are somewhat forced into doing so. The negative side of niche protection.

    Does the Cleric player not like to spend actions healing in general? Because if so then maybe the group needs an additional healer, PC or NPC. Or for the GM to factor that into the difficulty.
    Last edited by icefractal; 2021-12-07 at 03:01 PM.

  2. - Top - End - #212
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    So, I had some drama in my OTHER game last night. Not sure if it bears posting, let alone starting a new thread, but I thought I would share it to get some advice.


    Other game is D&D 5E, I am playing a level 5 wizard.

    A death knight threatens our part, the warlock and I try and talk it down.

    The cleric then blasts it with a guiding bolt, and the rogue shoots him with a sneak attack arrow.

    I cast protection from evil on the warlock.

    DK's turn, he takes the warlock down in one round even with protection from evil.

    I start desperately trying to come up with a plan, and most of them assume the warlock will be healed on the clerics turn.

    When the clerics turn comes around again, he hits the DK with another guiding bolt.

    Start of my turn, I say "Oh crap, you didn't heal (warlock)? Give me a sec" as I desperately try and come up with a plan to keep the warlock alive.

    Cleric's player then says "How about from now on you play your character and I play mine? This is the second time you have told me what to do (I have no idea what the first time was) and I am really pissed off."

    I am too shocked to reply directly, and instead just mumble that I am casting shield and bladeward on myself and standing over the fallen warlock.


    We keep fighting, and barely beat the DK through a combination of good rolls and the DM holding back and not using its most powerful abilities.


    After the session, the cleric's player say's that people telling him what to do is a major trigger, and if it happens again he is done with the game. I, still pretty shocked and not sure what to say, mumble a brief apology and tell him it won't happen again.


    So, I am kind of conflicted here.

    What I said could be seen as telling him what to do (although, since I didn't say it until after it was already done, I would say its more questioning / criticizing than demanding).

    But, I don't know, isn't players communicating and coordinating a good thing? I know as a DM many of my horror stories would have been prevented if the players talked to one another about tactics and coordinate their actions as a team.

    And I feel it was kind of an unfair kender situation in the first place, where his actions spoil our fun and nearly get us killed, and we don't say anything and roll with the punches, but then he gets mad.

    But yeah, I respect that he was upset, and would never dream of telling someone else how to RP their character as I have been "that guy" plenty of times where I put character motivation before the needs of the group. And I also enjoy the group and want to keep playing with them.

    Any advice for how I should handle this or what I should say or not say to the guy?
    Well, I'm a ****, so I can only tell you what *not* to do.

    "Yo, moron, you gonna heal the fallen Warlock, or have the rest of us gotta plan around your idiocy again?"

    Figure out what looks *least* like the way some of my low-Charisma characters would respond to his seeming ineptitude, and that's probably a good approach

    Granted, it's perfectly in character for a Cleric to dislike a Warlock on purely religious grounds. Then again, it's perfectly in character to harass the Cleric got failing to do their job, or even to kick them out of the party. So "it's what my character would do" + victim blaming? It continues to be as bad a defense as ever.

    So… yeah, talk to the player about what their triggers are, and find out if that's someone you really want to play with. Because, from the sound of it, I wouldn't.

    That said, there might be a salvageable, good player buried deep, deep in there somewhere.

  3. - Top - End - #213
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Batcathat's Avatar

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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    So, I had some drama in my OTHER game last night. Not sure if it bears posting, let alone starting a new thread, but I thought I would share it to get some advice.
    As with a lot of your stories, the main issue seems to be someone reacting way out of proportion. In quite a few situations, I don't like people telling me what to do (or, worse, how to do it) myself. So I understand the player being annoyed with you (in their opinion, at least) doing that, especially if they have previous experience with people doing it excessively and/or if you do it more than you realize.

    That said, reacting to that with anything more than a snarky comment or perhaps a request to stop seems far too much, in my experience. Maybe I'm biased from hearing other stories about the people you play with, but I kind of doubt this is the one issue a person like that would overreact to.

    So yeah, I suspect your only options are to either walk on eggshells or say "screw it", stomp the eggs and make an omelet. (I guess the metaphorical omelet would be playing with different, preferably more stable, people).
    Last edited by Batcathat; 2021-12-07 at 04:11 PM.

  4. - Top - End - #214
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    Talakeal's Avatar

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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Session Eight:

    Spoiler: January 1114: The Turning Point
    Show
    Upon returning to Golgotha, Valentine is told that she will personally hand over the Mandala to Lady Abasinia at a banquet in two nights, and that her companion’s presence is requested.

    Valentine works to get them ready, showing Quincy how to requisition a dress uniform and giving Feur money for more presentable clothes. She takes Kim out, first to the tailor and then to a salon. Over the course of the day, the two get to know each other a little better, exchanging stories of their early adventurers and lore about their peoples, as well as correcting stereotypes about other species.

    Valentine also discovers that Kim had a wife prior to the Cataclysm, but has done nothing to search her out since, assuming that even if she survived the eruption she would have been finished off in the
    seventy years since.

    The next evening, the group is picked up by a coach outside of their plantation and driven across the city, through the low-town, and into the hills that were once home to Imperial nobility but have since been abandoned. Lady Abasinia’s house is off Old Ardilla Road, a rectangular three-story building built of plaster in imitation of the Atlantean style. It is showing its age, the gates rusty, the whitewash faded, the trees in the yard skeletal and dry.

    The inside of the house is much better kept, the very image of opulence. Servants lead them into the dining hall, where they are introduced to all manner of bankers and businessmen, and served veal, pasta, and seasoned bread along with wine and a sauce none of them can identify.

    When their hostess finally appears, it is obvious to everyone, for she is a striking figure. A tall, attractive, middle-aged woman with long blue hair and an expensive dress, with a thrakken-fur stole. The lady’s first action is to berate one of the servants for not following her precise orders about how the table was to be set, something seemingly small and influential.

    Lady Abasinia takes her seat at the head of the table, and Valentine does her best to make a good impression, but is chagrinned when her host politely thanks her for retrieving the Mandala, but seems otherwise more interested in her companions.

    She questions each of their allegiances, and asks who they plan to serve in the future. The lady offers to buy Quincy’s contract, but he declines. She asks Anani how she can be both an apprentice of Thanatos and a priestess of That Which Must Not be Named, as well as testing Feur’s allegiance to the Tribunal.

    Kim, she finds the most fascinating of all, and Lady Abasinia asks many questions of her, for she says that she too is lost in time. They discuss trivial affairs of the pre-Cataclysm world, sharing songs and jokes and gossip, as well as the fates of public figures, most of which have been forgotten since.
    In turn, they ask what Lady Abasinia does, and she claims to be an independent broker of services, goods, and people.

    Kim surmises from her ageless nature, as well as her cerulean hair, that she must be a changeling, the immortal child of a being from the spirit world. But she seems far older than Kim, who eventually asks where she is from.

    She says she is from an island kingdom, and was born before the wars between knights and demons, before the falling of the sky and the battles against the sun, a land of beauty and indescribable wonders, when the sea and the stars were one, an age of gods and heroes, and of magic unrestrained, where time was fluid and a night could be an eternity or a lifetime but a day, and before the fall and the loss of true human potential.

    Feur wonders what she means, and Lady Abasinia tells him that even such a feat as imagining a color he has never seen is beyond him in this fallen world that remains.
    Kim asks if she is from Atlantis, and she says it is possible, for she has walked the sunken city in her dreams, but has trouble recalling such times, for she was only a small child and had not yet awakened.

    Anani then asks how she could find the darkness and the time before the sun beautiful, but also be terrified of the Night. Lady Abasinia responds by stating that things can be the same on some levels of reality, but not on others. For example, an astronomer might say the sun is a star, and Feur might say that the sun is the Golden Palace of Judgement, and they are both correct. Likewise, many people say that the stars are the souls of dead heroes placed in the sky by the gods, and they too are correct. But nobody has ever made the claim, falsely or otherwise, that the Golden Palace of Judgement is created from the soul of a dead hero. Why, even now, Anani herself exists in no less than three separate levels of reality.

    Anani still doesn’t understand, but seems quieted by a voice that only she can hear.

    Krystal spends most of the meal avoiding conversation, finding excuses to leave her seat and orbit the room, relieving no few of the guests of their valuables while she does. Eventually, Lady Abasinia catches her attention, and the cambion doesn’t say anything, only smiles. The lady asks to see her sword, says that it looks to be a product of the Black Forge, but Krystal stubbornly refuses.

    The Lady Abasinia says she has been trading relics for centuries, and has a knack for identifying them, and with some pushing from Valentine, Krystal hands over her mirrored necklace. The instant she does so, her head seems to clear and the room comes into sharp focus.

    Lady Abasinia identifies it as an Oculus, a talisman that renders its bearer invisible to all forms of divination, clairvoyance, and magical detection.
    They spend the rest of the night talking idly before being given their next assignment, to transport the Mandala of Dreams to the Towers of Tahrr, and then to stay with the dwarves for the next two months, performing whatever tasks are required to assist the dwarves with the Immaterium’s projects.

    The group awakens the next morning well-rested, and without even a hint of a hangover despite the copious amounts of wine they drank with the meal and the brandy they had with their cakes in the small hours of the morning. One of the bankers who had been at the party stops by and gives them their next two month’s wages in advance, and in the afternoon they leave Harijan and Tatters in charge of their plantation while they ride Zara’s juggernaut as close as she is willing to go to dwarven lands.

    When they find themselves walking the left few leagues, Kim has to explain to the rest of the group that the reason Zara won’t approach is that she is an outcast. Feur says that he thought she wasn’t a dwarf, and Kim says that true, she isn’t a dwarf anymore because her identity was stripped from her for whatever crimes she committed.

    When they finally approach the smog-shrouded towers, Carrack comes out to greet them. He tells Feur that since the humans left, he has bought a glass coffin, and when Feur asks why, he tells him that it remains to be seen.

    They are escorted by heavily armored dwarven guards into the heart of the second tower, to the vast forge. Kim refuses to remove her armor, and swelters in the heat. Carrack comments to Feur that she must be turning into a baked potato and the two snicker.

    The bureaucrat then tells the warriors that the dwarves are having trouble figuring out how to properly smelt the ore which they previously delivered and that they will need to consult with the deep ones; and that the mercenaries will need to escort him to keep the deep ones’ tribute safe, for their military forces are stretched thin.

    The mercenaries accompany Carrack through a twisting labyrinth of rock towards the lair of the deep ones, two people always carrying a steel tribute chest between them atop two long poles. After an entire day, they finally find the deep ones’ lair, its entrance camouflaged between several large boulders. The group then climbs, single file, down tunnels deep into the cold earth, and carrying the tribute becomes laborious.

    As they descend, they hear strange booming echoes in the rocks, and Carrack explains that it is the Tommyknockers, deep earth spirits who are never far off from where the deep ones are found. As they pause, they are startled by a small high-pitched voice speaking over their shoulders. They look around to find a small gnome standing upon a ledge. They introduce themselves to him, and he tells them that he thinks his name is Edwin, although it is hard to remember sometimes as he so rarely refers to himself in the third person.

    He walks with the group, his thoughts and words strange, and his memory strained. But Carrack treats him with the utmost respect, like a cherished grandparent whose mind has begun to slip into senility. It eventually comes out that he is the patriarch of the deep one clan, and that it is made up of his extended family. Edwin leads the big people to his home, where he and his kin dig through the tribute, revealing fine-cut crystal lenses as well as delicate pieces of machinery.

    They sit upon toadstools and drink mushroom tea for a bit, Krystal driven near to violence by the inanity of speaking with such eccentric creatures. Edwin tries to talk Feur into marrying his daughter, and the red-faced martial artist does his best to politely avoid the tiny woman’s affections.

    Eventually, they get down to discussing business. Edwin tells Carrack that the minotaurs he posted to keep the area safe have wandered off, and requests a new band of mercenaries take over the job, and for a moment the companions fear they will be drafted into this roll. Then they discuss the plans, and the gnomes look over the material that the dwarves are trying to build.

    Carrack insists he doesn’t know what it is for, but the gnomes seem to think it will act as a sort of “theurgic super-conductor” able to permanently absorb divine power. One could use it to turn a divine curse into a terrible weapon, or even to usurp a god.

    Then the gnomes get down to business, donning large colorful pointed hats which they refer to as their thinking caps, and communing with a fast, high-pitched language that sounds almost like the chirping of birds. Several hours of heated discussion later, they hand over a scroll with the required formulas and techniques to forge such a material, but warn them that the ingredients will be quite rare, some of them will not be found in this world at all.

    Valentine asks where one might find a source of otherworldly metal, and the gnomes shrug, and suggest maybe meteorites. Edwin says that when he was young, he once saw a strangle blue craft embedded in a cliffside in the deserts far to the west, and that it may be a good place to start.

    After departing the deep ones’ home, the group goes to visit an astronomer named Ellessaire for help calibrating some of the instruments that the dwarves need for the Immaterium’s projects. He is found in a rundown cottage in the nearby hills, but is not eager to help, first ignoring them and then threatening them with a shotgun. He is a vertial, a member of an asocial species, and has yellow skin, pointed ears, six fingers, and long gray muttonchops that hang nearly to his waist.

    Eventually, he tells them that he will help, but only if they agree to clear out a group of fachan that have infested his observatory, and a deal is struck.

    The observatory is old, likely Imperial ruins from before the Cataclysm, and consists of three towers in various states of decay. The fachan are like two ogres in four bodies, large, cannibalistic, vaguely humanoid creatures each with a single leg, a single arm, and a single eye.

    As the warriors climb the hill, the fachan throw pieces of masonry at them, and Quincy returns fire.

    Kim rushes one, and does battle with it, driving it back a set of circular stairs, although every time it is cornered, it simply leaps up or down a level.

    Krystal enters the hellscape and ambushes the creature atop the largest tower, and then moves to help Feur, who has become surrounded on the steps of the main observatory building.

    The fight is not long, and no serious injuries are inflicted, but the fachan are hard to pin down, as their powerful legs allow them to leap onto balconies and catwalks and take advantage of the ruined towers before being driven off.

    The vertial astronomer does not thank them for their efforts, and indeed asks why he should help them at all. Krystal tells him that honoring his deal will be the fastest way to get rid of them, and he quickly performs the calibrations, grumbling about how he should have listened to his mother and never set out for human lands.
    Ellessaire also makes note of some coordinates which have been included in the specifications and asks if he was meant to watch them, but everyone, including Carrack, can only shrug.
    Upon returning to Tahrr with their work, the mercenaries are then asked if they have had any dealings with the Morlocks. Valentine says yes, and then does her best to stop her companions from elaborating.

    They are told that the dwarves need an additional three-hundred slaves to finish their contracts on time, and that they are to travel to a nearby morlock enclave and convince them to part with them.

    The journey is miserable across the hot and sooty ground. The morlock enclave is found in what was once a strip mine, guarded by ogres and holding onto what must be a thousand human slaves. The morlocks, however, refuse to sell any. The Omukade need seven thousand slaves, which the morlocks can’t provide, and they are afraid of retribution from the centipede hengeyokai should they fail to deliver.

    Valentine tries charm, bargaining, bribery, and even contract legalese, but the morlocks are adamant against selling. One of the morlocks tells the humans that this wouldn’t be an issue if the Imperium had kept to their ancient oaths, and Kim asks what he means. The morlock tells them that King Arthur promised one in twenty humans born would go to the morlocks to replenish the losses they suffered protecting the surface world from the underground horrors. Kim denies any such deal ever existed, and the morlock agrees that the humans have no honored it since long before her time, not since the time of the Empress.

    Returning empty-handed, the humans meet with Major General Brashton, and Valentine proposes a more drastic idea; entering into a permanent alliance with Balthazar, for Balthazar has plenty of manpower but little in the way of industry, and is on the verge of war with the dwarves primary competitor, the forges of Avarus. They could fight together, defeat both Livonia and the Hengeyokai, and shift the balance of power on Pangaea.

    Brashton loves the idea, although he obviously needs to get permission from his masters. He tosses Valentine a bag of gold, and tells them to give it to the morlocks to pay their own ransom, and inform them that in three days the dwarves will be taking their slaves by force.

    He then tells the humans that for this to work, he needs to free up some of his nearby forces. He was planning on raiding a nearby nest of fire trolls which had been fraternizing, and perhaps fornicating, with the Omukade, but needs the soldiers for his raid on the morlocks, and would like the outsiders to do it for them. Valentine agrees to the deal.

    The Ember Thorn troll tribe has lived in the volcanoes of the badlands for centuries, and though they are a small clan, they are well adapted to the heat. Quincy tracks down their subterranean lair, and then Kim sings to the stones, creating a small and well-fortified tunnel right into the middle of their village.

    The humans strike first and with surprise, and Quincy puts a round into the belly of the nearest troll. The lanky humanoids are covered in soot, and their wounds reveal angry red skin beneath that looks like it is badly burned, but their injuries only slow them down, for the flesh begins to reknit itself.

    As the trolls grab spears and raise the alarm, Feur and Kim move forward to create a vanguard. Kim finds herself attacked by a pair of domesticated Bandersnatches, hunting beasts which resemble huge and muscular hounds, bereft of fur but with claws and horns. One grabs her by the ankle and they drag her away into the dark.

    Feur finds a group of four Omukade and engages them in a slow combat. He deftly dodges their blows, and each time one of their poisonous forcipules strikes him, he uses his magic to rewind time and allow the moment to play out differently.

    Valentine flies around the low cavern, the limber trolls chasing after her, while Anani attempts to drain their life forces so that Quincy’s bullets might put them down for good.

    Krystal is able to rescue Kim, slaying the hounds before they can push her into a burning geothermal vent. Quincy swears at the loss of life, for they would have made excellent hunting hounds.

    Kim and Krystal move back to the group and rejoin the battle, just as the troll’s leader, a massive tusked Jotun decides that he is not content merely to give orders and decides to enter the fray himself.

    He smashes Kim’s barricades aside and nearly decapitates Quincy with a swipe of his claws.

    Anani reacts by summoning a trio of elder shades from the Abyss. These shadowy creatures do scarcely more damage to the enormous troll than Quincy’s bullets, but they unnerve the creature who is unable to strike back at them.

    The chieftain retreats, climbing over piles of burning rocks and pools of molten lava, the light of which dispels the shades, although the Jotun’s rocky flesh is also burned in the process. Feur takes the opportunity to warp time, compounding the time he spends in the burning heat a hundred times over, reducing the mighty troll to a charred skeleton.

    With the death of their leader, the fire trolls lose the will to fight, their warriors collecting children and fleeing into the burning depths. The mercenaries decide that genocide is not necessary this day, and once they are sure all of the Omukade are dead, they help themselves to the chieftain’s trinkets and trophies of the victory and return to the dwarves of Tahrr; to rest up, to recuperate, and to restock before returning to Golgotha and the service of the Warlord Balthazar.  


    Overall a pretty smooth session, although there was some tension with Bob over when Krystal was allowed to start a fight hidden (see other thread).

    The game had another stall, albeit a short one, when the players were unable to convince the morlocks to sell their slaves. They insisted I sent them on an impossible task, and I had to break character and tell them that this was meant as an opportunity for them to take some initiative and actually influence the course of the campaign rather than just following orders.


    Well, next week is going to be a double, trying to wrap up the arc before we break for the holidays, maternity, and god-forbid another lockdown. The first should tie up a lot of lose ends, and the second should be a climactic battle that will end this chapter and bridge the way toward the next. The players should expect some high highs and some low lows (and the tantrums that come with), so wish me luck!
    Looking for feedback on Heart of Darkness, a character driven RPG of Gothic fantasy.

  5. - Top - End - #215
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    Talakeal's Avatar

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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Played again.

    Game went well. Players were able to work together despite the challenges and didn't bite off more than they could chew.

    I will have a write up of both adventures sometime over the holidays, hard to say when I will get the time to write it up though with traveling and family and what not.

    One thing troubles me though.


    It seems that, as adults, the games are a lot less rich.

    When we were in school, we could game almost anytime, and often went all day and / or all night, and we could have sessions that were just improv, exploring the world and talking to NPCs. Everyone had a deeper understanding of their character and the setting, and NPCs seemed to be almost like real people, and PCs genuinely developed friendships, rivalries, and sometimes even romances with them that felt real and organic.

    Now, we tend to play in a scheduled 4-8 hour block every two weeks, and each game session has to have an objective and a certain number of combats, and it seems like NPCs are just one dimensional plots who show up, say a few scripted lines to advance the plot, and then disappear.

    Furthermore, during conversation scenes, it seems like only one player (usually Brian) ever does any talking, the rest of the group gets immediately bored, heads go down, and phones come out.

    And its not just that the players want hack and slash (although they do), the same players seem less interested in RP as they get older, and every time I have suggested we run a less intellectual campaign like a mega-dungeon they all tell me no, if they just wanted that they would play a video game.

    Maybe its just that as we grow older, we are becoming more aware that it is a game and more anchored in real life, but it seems that the older we get, the shallower and less mature that game actually becomes.

    Any thoughts? Does this warrant its own thread?
    Looking for feedback on Heart of Darkness, a character driven RPG of Gothic fantasy.

  6. - Top - End - #216
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    It seems that, as adults, the games are a lot less rich.

    that the older we get, the shallower and less mature that game actually becomes.

    Any thoughts? Does this warrant its own thread?
    Sounds like a good candidate for its own thread, yeah.

  7. - Top - End - #217
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    Flumph

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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    You are making me sound like one of my players.
    You're very close to a breakthrough there.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    I don't know about that. Hoarding resources keeps biting them in the ass both in and out of character; I am hoping eventually they will get the message that a resource you are too scared to use is just a number on a character sheet rather than something that solves problems or makes the game more fun.
    Do you see how this is equivalent to "the beatings will continue until morale improves"? "I'm going to punish the way they want to play until they play the way I want them to play".

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    But no, the rocks don't have any goals or agency, and will happily answer any questions asked of them, but they do have a rudimentary personality and are not compelled to follow orders.
    "No agency" means "no agency" not "I'm going to decide whether to respond positively based on how the question is phrased". My car has no agency and turns on when I press the button (unless it's broken). My coworker has agency and has a (more than rudimentary) personality and is not compelled to follow (my) orders, and it is thus important how I phrase requests. See the difference? Your statues have agency as described, but by saying they don't, you're absolving yourself of responsibility for the fact that made them behave in exactly the manner that would frustrate your players as much as possible.

    Like your players, you are persisting in a path that you assume will eventually lead to your goal and reject most or all advice or options other than continuing. This, to the point of my first quote from you here, is the exact same macro situation as their behavior.

  8. - Top - End - #218
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    Talakeal's Avatar

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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Well, its been a while, but I finally got the next session down.

    Spoiler: Chapter Nine: The Masque of the Iron Swallow
    Show
    March 1114

    Soon after recovering from their sortie with the fire trolls, the mercenaries find themselves escorted into the senate chambers within the heights of the second tower. Once there they get their first glance at the ruler of Tahrr, Lady Ophelia, the wife of the late thane. She is middle-aged and plump, large for a dwarf, with fiery hair and soot gray skin. Although she is trying to remain composed, she is clearly upset that Major Brashton has forced her hand, but throughout the interview, she does not let her temper show save for a few sharp tongued jabs. The Lady Ophelia makes it clear to the counselors that Major Brashton has presumed her wishes to end their alliance with the morlocks, and now forced their hands into finding new allies, and that the Warlord Balthazar, who is rich on slaves but poor on industry, is about to make war on Livonia, the dwarves sole economic power in the south. The proposal is simple, the dwarves of Tahrr make a surprise attack on Livonia’s granary at Antilles, and in exchange, Balthazar will include the Omukudae in her war on hengeyokai, and will supply her war with Livonia using exclusively dwarven made arms and armor purchased with the rich human crops of Dungenus.

    The councilors debate her proposal and then vote on the alliance, and are deadlocked, three for and three against. And thus they sit glaring at one another, as if the fate of nations can be decided by a child’s staring contest. To settle the tie, Carrock tells the outsiders that they will consult Griselda the Crone. They send for her, and Carrock explains that in times of uncertainty, they seek the wisdom of their elders, and none are more ancient than Griselda, who was old when his grandfather was a babe.

    The woman returns, wobbling into the room and balanced between two young dwarven shield-maidens, so stooped and gray that she resembles a boulder, a long scraggly beard dangling from her chin. She listens quietly as Ophelia explains the situation, and she seems to fall into a deep sleep, but when the time comes for her to make her decision, she is alert, with intelligence shining in her eyes, and announces that if the dwarves are to survive, their neutrality must perish.

    The two women exchange a few muttered words, and then Ophelia orders Brasthton to prepare his troops for an attack on Livonia’s lands, and he is unable to restrain his whoops of joy. The Thane’s wife then tells Carrock to accompany the humans back to their lands to formally cement the alliance.

    Kim moves forward to talk to Griselda, a million questions about the crone’s life and her culture, but her companions hold her back and tell her that now is not the time.

    They gather their things and return to the edge of dwarven lands, where Zara awaits for them in her juggernaut. Carrock and Zara do not acknowledge one another’s existence at all, save to murmur insults under the breath just at the edge of hearing, Carrock calling Zara “tailings” and her referring to him as “piss-boy”. Carrock sits in the back near Feur, the two of them sharing corny jokes and laughing the journey away.

    Four days later in the light of dawn, the juggernaut is moving along a narrow mountain pass, and Kim is the first to awake. Zara calls her to the front of the vehicle and says that Carrock isn’t laughing with them, he is laughing at them, and Kim nods and says she knows. Zara then asks if she knows that what the humans think of as a dwarven accent is nothing of the sort, rather it’s the dwarf laughing how they think humans sound, and if one is peppering their speech with all manner of “Ochs! and Ayes!” they surely think they are getting one over on you. Kim asks Zara to say something in dwarven, and Zara is hesitant before she lets out an indecipherable murmuring sound occasionally punctuated by harsh guttural consonants. Kim asks what it means, and Zara tells her “Nosey outsiders make for shallow holes.”

    Before Kim can respond, something hits the juggernaut, hard and from above. Zara looks about, but can’t see the source, and figures it must be on the roof, but it takes all her concentration to simply keep the vehicle from leaving the road and rolling down the hillside into the ravine below.

    Quincy and Valentine are awakened by the motion, and Quincy immediately grabs his rifle, while the angel-girl attempts to rouse her slumbering companions.

    The dragoon moves to the vehicle's door and slams it upon. Above him, he sees an enormous creature, shaped like a manta-ray, but with baleful red eyes and a ragged toothy maw. Its fifty-foot wings do not move, it merely hovers above the road, perfectly keeping pace with the juggernaut like a living kite. He recognizes it from tales as a garuda, the horror of the heights.

    He immediately fires upward, the powerful bullet punching into its leather flesh and producing a spray of milky yellow blood. The creature squeals in an unnaturally low register, and immediately strikes back with its whipping tail. It is lightning fast, and Kim takes the only action she can to keep the rifleman from being impaled on the creature’s harpoon-like stinger, and shoves him from the door of the moving vehicle, leaving him rolling in the dirt as they leave him behind.

    Once she is roused, Krystal immediately recognizes the situation for what it is and uses the infernal powers that are her birthright to teleport through the hellscape and onto the vehicle's roof, and then again onto the garuda’s back. She stabs at it, and it moves to shake her off even as the disappears from the material world to rematerialize safe inside her transport.
    Kim does her best to get the monster’s attention, but her weapon just isn’t long enough, and once Quincy has come to a stop and caught his breath, he takes aim and continues firing at the flying monster, serving only to draw its attention.

    As their attacker floats away, Valentine orders Zara to stop, and the four of them exit, rushing to save Quincy from being paralyzed or swallowed whole. Anani conjures up the shade of a gargoyle to distract it, although its power is rapidly waning with the rising sun.

    Still, it works long enough for Kim and Krystal to reach Quincy, and which point the hovering creature decides to seek easier prey, wheeling away from the hillside and casting its dark shadow across the rocky scrubland valleys below.

    The next evening they reach Golgotha, and are happy to be out of the confined space. Each goes about their own business.

    Kim finds an official letter to her summoning her to a meeting downtown with a mister David Nash. The letter is almost a month old, so she wastes no time in finding her way to the office. Nash is a handsome well dressed human man with an awkward manner and an eastern accent. He tells Kim that he has recently acquired a law firm and, in looking through their back records, discovered that they were holding her inheritance. Nash gives her a long crooked staff with a moss agate hanging from it and is told that it is the staff of her former master, Nboru. Kim asks what happened to her master, and Nash looks through some old papers and tells her that he was apparently burned at the stake some fifty years, and that his previous representatives had long since given up looking for Kim. The archeologist is too sad to question the situation, and merely gives him Valentine’s business card and departs. In the waiting room, she passes a tall graceful elf with an injured hand, and the two bow politely.

    The next day Kim arranges a meeting with Lady Abasinia in a café. The broker is able to identify the staff of power as being able to lay a protective enchantment upon anyone it touches, when the magic word “Almasi” is spoken. She is very happy to see Kim, calling her poppet and patting her on the head almost like a pet, and says that the two of them will have more business soon, and hopefully will find the time to get to know one another better.

    At the same time, Anani, Quincy, and Carrock are meeting Balthazar’s ambassador in secret in the city park. The park is an anomaly in the desert, green and overgrown, bounded by iron fence posts, its trees and streams crossed by neat stone paths and footbridges that almost disappear into the foliage. Balthazar’s ambassador is a woman named Baftis, with pixie cut blonde hair and a mischievous grin, who looks to be too young for her position. They make small talk at first, and she mentions that the park is haunted, they say a large figure can be seen lugging a mysterious sack through the darkness each night it rains.

    She says that this meager park is nothing compared to the hanging gardens of Dungenus, and asks if Quincy has ever seen them. “Not up close,” he says, and she agrees that one of his rank would be unlikely to be allowed into the palace grounds.

    When they get down to business, Baftis says that Balthazar is always looking for new allies. She has tried to keep this meeting secret from old Harlan, Livonia’s ambassador, and she hopes that Anani will be able to convince the arch-mage Thanatos to assist in driving Livonia from the region, although the shadow priestess is uncertain she has that sort of pull.

    Baftis takes Quincy’s statements and then departs with Carrock, bound for a riverboat which will take them up the Amber Flow to Concordance where they can get an official military vessel to travel down the great river Sangrael to Balthazar’s capital of Dungenus by the sea.

    They leave Valentine’s group with orders to track down anything that might be useful in the coming battle, for open war with Livonia is now inevitable and Balthazar will need every advantage he can get.
    Anani heads north, accompanied by her Forsythe, her sergeant, and Decarion, her scribe, hoping to get word to the Tower of Morpheus without being intercepted by the Imperials or the other Warlords.
    Deciding to tie up loose ends, the groups split up, with Zara, Krystal, and Valentine heading north to Havensbrook and Quincy, Feur, and Kim returning to Vladispol.

    In Havensbrook, the group finds the townspeople still acting suspicious about them, some seeming grateful and others reviling them. Krystal decides to go snooping through the town hall in the dead of the night, and finds two nearly identical sets of tax records, one showing them as having paid tribute to Livonia and the other to Balthazar. Likewise, they show matched records of who was drafted, one going into the forces of Dungenus and the other Avarus. Upon showing these records to Valentine, she notes that most of the people who were drafted were very young or very old, and would likely not have been accepted, and puts two and two together, realizing that, along with the missing graves in the churchyard, that the townsfolk were simply hiding the bodies of those who died from natural causes and recording them as having gone off to war.

    The trio decides to take the documents and confront the mayor directly. He tries to deny it before his façade collapses. Krystal tries to accuse him of embezzling money for himself, but he insists that everything he did was for the long-term survival of the town, it is simply not economically viable for it to exist with the tolls that the Warlords are demanding. When pressured, he tells them that he got the idea from a minstrel named Eorl who moved into town several years ago and assured them that every town on the frontier was pulling a similar scam, that the Warlords expected it, and that the people of Havensbrook were gullible rubes for not running such a scheme.

    Valentine goes to visit this Eorl, and finds his house to be in the middle of being packed up, as if the minstrel was planning on moving on. She knocks on his door, and finds it answered by a slender man in an undershirt, with a thin goatee and large dark eyes. He immediately begins trying to flirt with Valentine, but she doesn’t play his game and is pure business. Still, she doesn’t get much out of him until Krystal slips up behind him and placed the Black Flame Blade to his throat, and demands answers. He doesn’t seem so much scared as uncaring, and eventually, let’s slip his backstory in exchange for promises of his safety and freedom. Eorl was a young rake from Pompur who made a deal with the “Thin Lady”, to pull scams like this across the disputed zone between Balthazar and Livonia’s borders, and now that the jig is up here, he is on his way to Suttersberg to pull the same, this town has lost interest for him.

    As they ride back to Golgotha, Valentine and Krystal realize that maybe they are being manipulated.

    Meanwhile, in the south, the group combs the shoreline of the Misty Sea, looking for more signs of missing patrols, and at one cold battle site they see that the bodies appear to have been dragged into the water. Lying in the mud is a cast-off magnetite pendant, and Kim is able to speak to it and learn that it is eager to show her the way home across the shrouded water.

    They return to the fisherman whom they befriended the previous year and once more borrow their boat. They travel blindly through the water, guided by the stone, their boat lost in a sea of fog, until eventually they see a black tower rise above them, and a moment later their boat runs aground on jagged rocks.

    They move cautiously onto the shore of a grassy island, small huts appearing in the mist, all at the base of a cyclopean tower. Though the group moves stealthily, they soon find themselves surrounded by a band of the inhabitants, amphibious creatures roughly the size of men, but with hairless green skin, long snouts, square set red eyes, and heavy dragging tails. Feur refers to them as lizardmen, but Kim corrects him, they are Fauth.

    They do not speak Terran, but Kim can speak enough of their language to convince them to take her to their leader, and they are led into the castle. There, the guards have weapons of beaten bronze and shields of cold iron. Their king is an ancient scarred creature, missing one eye and much of his flesh, and with long curling horns and enormous fangs jutting from his skull. He introduces himself a Gadael Dwwr Clir, and demands to know what the outsiders are doing here. Kim returns the pendant, and he tells one of his servants to find its owner and chide them for their carelessness. He then has a servant fetch the humans jars of Kim Chee, the only food they have which he believes the outsiders will be able to stomach.

    Kim should be asking about the missing patrols, but instead wants to know where they came from. Gadael tells her that he is over nine thousand years old, and his people originally come from the promised land in the north-east, a great wetland where their civilization flourished, before the drew the ire of the dragon goddess Eris, and she cursed the very land so that the flesh and souls of the dead would never separate.
    Kim asks if it is normal for his people to be so old, and he says no, his father was cursed, a “leech person” who stole the life forces of those around him, and he retained enough of that curse to prolong his own life through drinking the blood of his own fallen before they could be cannibalized by the tribe.

    He then says that the fauth stayed in the ruins along the misty sea, making the lost city their own, before the human Imperium came close and they went into hiding upon the islands, where they have stayed for centuries. But they are dying, as is the entire world. They say that the end of the world has already come and gone, but death is a process, none understand this better than they.

    Kim finally asks about the patrols, and is told that the fauth used to raid human villages for their dead, digging up cemeteries and stealing preserves, and the people learned in time that it was easier to simply give their dead over to the fauth, setting them adrift on boats. Still, when their foragers began to find scenes of battles right on the shore, the dead left to rot, they could not help but partake.
    Kim clarifies that they did not actually kill anyone, and Gadael confirms this. She then asks if they could see the bodies, and with some trepidation, the fauth allows them into the fermenting chambers beneath the castle, where the bodies are being pickled for later consumption. It is an unpleasant examination, but they find the bodies belong to both Livonia and Balthazar’s troops, and that random pieces of their gear have been taken with no apparent rime or reason.

    The trio soon departs on tense but peaceful terms, and finds that their boat has been patched with pine tar. As they sail away, one of the fauth women shouts after them in broken Terran that the killers are the same humans, only wearing different clothes.

    Once they have returned their boat and reclaimed their horses, they make their way to Balthazar’s nearest garrison. There, Feur casts a ritual of synchronicity linking them to the next ambush, and Quincy asks to accompany one of the patrols.

    Several hours later, they find themselves under attack from soldiers wearing the uniform of Livonia’s troops and symbols of Avarus, but they are quickly and cleanly defeated after Kim and Feur use their magics to turn the tide of the battle. Searching the bodies, their uniforms are quickly shown to be counterfeit, although supplemented with enough actual insignias and apparel to hide this fact from casual observation. They also lack any homunculi amongst their ranks. As they lay dying, Feur hears one of the attackers speak in the language of his homeland, and immediately comes up with a theory.

    As they ride back to Golgotha, Feur tells his companions of the reason he was first sent to Golgotha. A populist cult that wanted to overthrow the monarchy was operating out of Zaikhan, and under interrogation revealed that they were sent by the Warlord Umbriel, Lady of the West, and that she had sent other agents to several other independent city-states to bring them under her heel, including Golgotha.

    A week later, the party reunites and shares what they have learned. Finding the news about The Warlord Umbriel to be most distressing, they ask Tara about her memories of Umbriel’s attack on Golgotha, and learn that she moved through the Medagora forests and along the northern edge of the Canyon Lands, eventually making her move on the city from a basecamp in an old Imperial military academy located in the hills.

    The group decides to start their search there, but know that taking on a Warlord’s invasion force is likely beyond them, and so they make sure to bring their best equipment, and to prepare with numerous spells and runes created by Hraijyn.

    They approach at night, Kim using her staff to protect them from their enemies’ weapons and Anani performing a ritual that makes Krystal become one with the darkness, virtually undetectable in the gloom and almost insubstantial to enemy attack.

    They find the academy atop a hill, a tall stone building, unadorned and rising rectangular into the sky, resting atop a narrow rocky hill and connected to the foothills by a broad concrete bridge.

    Standing guard are a dozen or more men and women, heavily garbed in the manner of bandits, but well-armed. When Valentine announces herself, they tell her to scram, that this is their territory. But Feur steps forward and tells them that he has come from Zaikhan, to bring justice for those who have fallen at their hands and those of their mistress.

    A moment later his challenge is answered from inside the building but an enormous warrior wearing shining golden armor and wielding an immense chain, flanked on either side by a pair of standard bearers and honor guards. In a booming voice, he tells them that he is the Iron Swallow, Hand of the Warlord, and that he has been sent to churn the roiling chaos that is the East.

    There is no more talking, only battle, as Feur strikes like lightning at those on the bridge. Krystal slips through the hellscape and the shadows, taking out their flags and attempting to disrupt their coordination, all the while staying outside of Valentine’s light.

    Kim attempts to form a bulwark against her enemies, moving in front and attempting to control the battlefield with her meteor hammer, but the Iron Swallow is waiting for her; he wraps his weapon around hers from five paces and yanks her body towards him, raising his boot and planting his foot in her face, knocking sense from her as he moves towards Quincy and Anani in the back row.

    Anani is thrown aside, and when she gets her bearing she summons a pair of elder shades from the Abyss to assist her. Quincy finds his bullets do little to the enraged hellion, and Kim’s wards do nothing to stop the Plutonian Steel that makes up his chain, and he is soon taken out of the fight, but Valentine distracts him long enough for Anani to pull Quincy’s prone form out of his path.

    Kim comes to her senses finding herself being beaten down on the ground, surrounded by enemies. But she is able to center herself enough to protect herself with a mana shield, and when she sees Valentine jerk away from The Iron Swallow and fly out over the crevasse, a line of soldiers draw their bows and move to shoot her down, and Kim commands the bridge beneath them turn to mud, sending several plunging to their deaths, and those who struggle to keep themselves supported by the quagmire are easy pickings for Krystal.

    Feur and the Shades are able to clear a path to Kim, and Anani is able to heal herself and Quincy with the stolen life forces of their victims. One by one the warlord’s minions fall, most by Quincy’s rifle, but The Iron Swallow is stronger than all of them put together, and is so far untouched.

    Still, the hellion is alone and outnumbered, Valentine is able to coordinate her employees, Kim distracting the Iron Swallow while Krystal stabs him in the back and Feur rains down blow after blow upon him at supernatural speed, eventually smashing his golden helmet from his head to reveal an elderly warrior, his hair short and gray and his skin weathered. In a cracked voice, he tells them that he is defeated, and offers to let them take his place at the vanguard of Umbriel’s forces in the East.

    Krystal asks what is in it for them, and he tells them that the streets of distant Xian are paved with jade and the rivers run with gold, and all shall come to them, but Feur will hear none of it.
    So the Iron Swallow speaks to an unseen presence, telling it to go west and tell Umbriel that the Iron Swallow has fallen at the hands of Feur, warrior of the Tribunal. He then produces a hidden dagger and plunges it into his own heart, and as he does so the demon that was bound into his soul departs, carrying his message back to its mistress in Xian, the city of the west.
    The group binds their wounds, and once dawn falls upon the compound they search it, finding within numerous uniforms and insignias fabricated or stolen from Balthazar and Livonia’s forces; there can be no doubt that Umbriel’s minions were attacking patrols while dressed in false colors.

    The Iron Swallow’s armor is made of actual gold, and his chain is enchanted, impossibly heavy and infinitely long. Kim attempts to fasten the heads of her meteor hammer to the chain, but has trouble finding the ends until Anani creates a null zone, temporarily banishing all magic from the area.

    The rest of the group basks in the riches they have won, living large and upgrading their equipment. Quincy purchases a well-trained new warhorse named Esper, which the merchant insists is from the finest Imperial line, until its Templar owner betrayed the Old Empire and went rogue before meeting his death in battle at the hands of a dragon ogre.

    Feur returns to the Templar Lord Asmond Delacuer and tells him of their battle. The knight is overwhelmed that they took out the invaders on their own, but admits that he probably couldn’t have sent much help anyway, for the city is on the brink of war. Even if it were revealed that the machinations of Umbriel and Nereka were behind much of the strife, Balthazar and Livonia are pouring troops into the region, and it is only a matter of time before a small incident sparks off the final battle for the fate of Golgotha.


    Overall it went well, and I was really proud of my players. They were able to wrap up a lot of loose ends and solve previously abandoned mysteries without much prodding and no stalling out of the game, and they were able to work together and prepare for a tough fight and actually follow through with their plan.

    The game is currently on hiatus between acts with the holidays, the latest covid lockdown, and one of the players expected to give birth this month. I still have to write up and post the final session we played, which I hope to do in a week or two, and then we should start gaming again sometime in March.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    You're very close to a breakthrough there.
    Sorry, its been several months since the conversation you quoted, if you want me to take your point, you are going to have to be a bit more direct and a bit more verbose.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    Do you see how this is equivalent to "the beatings will continue until morale improves"? "I'm going to punish the way they want to play until they play the way I want them to play".
    Not at all, no.

    Punishing people to improve morale is of course counter-productive, punishing people to force them to play a certain way could actually yield fruit.

    Note however, that is absolutely not what I am doing. There is no "punishment" on my end, merely the observation that the players are making themselves bored and frustrated by refusing to spend plentiful resources, and I hope they will one day realize that they are punishing themselves for no gain.

    I would say though, I am extremely curious as to how you are defining "punishment" here and whether one of us is misinterpreting the other's words.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    "No agency" means "no agency" not "I'm going to decide whether to respond positively based on how the question is phrased". My car has no agency and turns on when I press the button (unless it's broken). My coworker has agency and has a (more than rudimentary) personality and is not compelled to follow (my) orders, and it is thus important how I phrase requests. See the difference? Your statues have agency as described, but by saying they don't, you're absolving yourself of responsibility for the fact that made them behave in exactly the manner that would frustrate your players as much as possible.
    Agreed, the statues have rudimentary agency. The whole agency thing came from someone trying to "gotcha" me because several months before the statue incident I made an offhand comment about how communing with rocks and looking into the past was different than communing with dieties because they lacked agency.

    So, to use your car example, if I refuse to press the ignition and instead just stand outside screaming at the car to "GO!", is that really the fault of the car maker?

    Kim's spell allows her to talk to rocks, and the rocks are friendly and will answer her questions. It does not allow her to give them commands. In this case, the player flat out refused to RP and I, in the heat of the moment, said ok, let's resolve it with a charisma check instead. Probably not, in retrospect, the correct solution, but it was the call I made at the time.
    Last edited by Talakeal; 2022-01-09 at 09:34 PM.
    Looking for feedback on Heart of Darkness, a character driven RPG of Gothic fantasy.

  9. - Top - End - #219
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    Sorry, its been several months since the conversation you quoted, if you want me to take your point, you are going to have to be a bit more direct and a bit more verbose.
    Sorry; I occasionally go through backlog things when I am without my normal routine and need to kill some time. On vacation with the in-laws, which means lots of screen time in a hotel across the world instead of at home. And this one was the clearest example I could use to try to give my feedback.

    Here, my point was that you indeed act exactly like your players but don't realize it, which is why the impasse continues (with the occasional interruption). See below.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    Not at all, no.

    Punishing people to improve morale is of course counter-productive, punishing people to force them to play a certain way could actually yield fruit.

    Note however, that is absolutely not what I am doing. There is no "punishment" on my end, merely the observation that the players are making themselves bored and frustrated by refusing to spend plentiful resources, and I hope they will one day realize that they are punishing themselves for no gain.

    I would say though, I am extremely curious as to how you are defining "punishment" here and whether one of us is misinterpreting the other's words.
    The boredom and frustration is the punishment. You say "the players are making themselves bored and frustrated by..." but that is happening because you are arranging the sessions to do that. They are not playing the way you want them to play (spending resources at the pace you desire) so you arrange the adventure to make them unhappy with the way they play. Then they get unhappy and you blame them. You could work with their nature just as "easily" as they could work with yours, but you refuse to. What they actually learn, over the course of years, is that your adventures make them miserable but as you refuse to stop playing with them, they refuse to stop playing with you, and round and round we go. You are them, and they are you.

    Also, the bolded... please reread that a few times. Punishing until they learn how to enjoy the game is functionally the same as "the beatings (boredom and frustration) will continue until morale improves (you start playing in the manner I approve of)".

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    Agreed, the statues have rudimentary agency. The whole agency thing came from someone trying to "gotcha" me because several months before the statue incident I made an offhand comment about how communing with rocks and looking into the past was different than communing with dieties because they lacked agency.

    So, to use your car example, if I refuse to press the ignition and instead just stand outside screaming at the car to "GO!", is that really the fault of the car maker?

    Kim's spell allows her to talk to rocks, and the rocks are friendly and will answer her questions. It does not allow her to give them commands. In this case, the player flat out refused to RP and I, in the heat of the moment, said ok, let's resolve it with a charisma check instead. Probably not, in retrospect, the correct solution, but it was the call I made at the time.
    In the car example, I cast the spell (press the button) and it starts. It doesn't care if I cast the spell and yell at it, or cast the spell and say nice things, or cast the spell and remain silent because it has no agency. Kim did not stand there screaming at a rock; she cast the spell and expected to get the promised effect. She did not, and as a result the boredom and frustration appeared. And predictably, instead of learning the lesson you hoped, she learned that your game is unreliable and frustrating, as a rudimentary knowledge of psychology would make obvious.

    The fact that this is your default reaction in the heat of the moment is, again, why you are like unto your players. Kim was likely frustrated and stressed and reacted by (in your words) refusing to RP (though I would term it "RPed a stressed character in a situation that felt impossible, or almost, to succeed"). You responded in a manner that you would term into the mirror "refused to RP and made an incorrect response", and... round and round we go.

    You feed into the loop and it wonder why it doesn't break. You can work with them to provide an adventure that they're likely to enjoy the way they want to play, or you can continue to punish them (which is what deliberately boring and frustrating them during a hobby is) and wonder why the situation is dysfunctional.

  10. - Top - End - #220
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    Sorry; I occasionally go through backlog things when I am without my normal routine and need to kill some time. On vacation with the in-laws, which means lots of screen time in a hotel across the world instead of at home. And this one was the clearest example I could use to try to give my feedback.

    Here, my point was that you indeed act exactly like your players but don't realize it, which is why the impasse continues (with the occasional interruption). See below.
    Don't worry about old threads, I like the bump, I just need a bit more context.

    I get that you are saying I act like my players, I just need to know in what way, because by itself this just comes across as a meaningless jab along the lines of "they are bad but so are you, u all suck!".

    In that particular case, I think I was saying that my players believe that the GM is all powerful; their choices or their dice rolls have no impact on anything, if they aren't on a railroad they wander about aimlessly, they never try and come up with outside of the box solutions, and if they come across in character resistance to a plan they take it as an OOC sign that they are doing something I don't want.

    I really don't see this behavior in myself. Now, I fully admit that I am not blameless and my own stubbornness about adhering to game rules / fictional narrative over fun often contributes to situations, but that isn't, imo, the same thing.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    Also, the bolded... please reread that a few times. Punishing until they learn how to enjoy the game is functionally the same as "the beatings (boredom and frustration) will continue until morale improves (you start playing in the manner I approve of)".
    The thing about "beatings will continue until morale improves" is that it is funny because it is contradictory; morale is a measure of satisfaction and enjoyment, and beatings are sure to lower that. On the other hand, if I beat a dog for piddling on the carpet, it will likely stop piddling on the carpet; its not a joke, its just cruel.

    In this case though, the boredom is totally self inflicted. Its less like punishment and more like "If you don't buy me a new toy, I am going to hold my breath until I pass out!"

    Like, to use an example, the players come across a locked door. They say they are stuck, and I propose they could pick the lock, which would take an hour, break it down which will make noise, or cast an unlocking spell which will take mana. The players will say they don't like any of those costs, and simply sit staring at the door hoping that someone else comes up with a brilliant consequence free scheme for getting past the door or that I will deus ex machina the door out of existence.

    What would you have me do in such a situation? What would you do?


    That being said, I don't feel like hoping players get good at a game is really unreasonable. Saying things like "playing in the manner I approve of" is just a really negative way of saying it. I can't imagine, for example, getting a game over screen and going back to world 1 because you keep running Mario into enemies and jumping down pits is some form of tyrannical control over the players on the designers part, its merely how the game is meant to be played.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    In the car example, I cast the spell (press the button) and it starts. It doesn't care if I cast the spell and yell at it, or cast the spell and say nice things, or cast the spell and remain silent because it has no agency. Kim did not stand there screaming at a rock; she cast the spell and expected to get the promised effect. She did not, and as a result the boredom and frustration appeared. And predictably, instead of learning the lesson you hoped, she learned that your game is unreliable and frustrating, as a rudimentary knowledge of psychology would make obvious.

    The fact that this is your default reaction in the heat of the moment is, again, why you are like unto your players. Kim was likely frustrated and stressed and reacted by (in your words) refusing to RP (though I would term it "RPed a stressed character in a situation that felt impossible, or almost, to succeed"). You responded in a manner that you would term into the mirror "refused to RP and made an incorrect response", and... round and round we go.

    You feed into the loop and it wonder why it doesn't break. You can work with them to provide an adventure that they're likely to enjoy the way they want to play, or you can continue to punish them (which is what deliberately boring and frustrating them during a hobby is) and wonder why the situation is dysfunctional.
    The spell isn't command rock, its speak with rocks. To use a D&D analogy, its Tongues not Compel.

    She cast the spell, I asked what she said, she said she gave a command, and I (both in and out of character) asked her what she was saying, and she refused. This is not the first time we have had this conversation, many times in the past she has insisted that talking in character is punishing to players with poor social skills and that all social interaction should be resolved with dice, and so that is what I gave her.

    I have no reason to believe they were RPing a frustrated or confused character in a seemingly impossible situation. The closest analogy I can see is taking a wrong turn and pulling over and asking the nearest gas station attendant how to get back to the main road.
    Looking for feedback on Heart of Darkness, a character driven RPG of Gothic fantasy.

  11. - Top - End - #221
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    Don't worry about old threads, I like the bump, I just need a bit more context.

    I get that you are saying I act like my players, I just need to know in what way, because by itself this just comes across as a meaningless jab along the lines of "they are bad but so are you, u all suck!".

    In that particular case, I think I was saying that my players believe that the GM is all powerful; their choices or their dice rolls have no impact on anything, if they aren't on a railroad they wander about aimlessly, they never try and come up with outside of the box solutions, and if they come across in character resistance to a plan they take it as an OOC sign that they are doing something I don't want.

    I really don't see this behavior in myself. Now, I fully admit that I am not blameless and my own stubbornness about adhering to game rules / fictional narrative over fun often contributes to situations, but that isn't, imo, the same thing.
    First of all, I definitely wasn't meaning to jab like that! Second, it wasn't specific to that context; I pulled it out and quoted it on its own because on its own, it makes the point I am trying to. Both you and your players are trying to force each other to play to your own (like, each's own) manner, and it doesn't work. When it doesn't work, there's conflict, and things deteriorate. That's what I meant by being close to a breakthrough - you are like your players. Different in flavor, but you both do the same things to each other and have for, apparently, close to two decades, like a fighting old married couple.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    The thing about "beatings will continue until morale improves" is that it is funny because it is contradictory; morale is a measure of satisfaction and enjoyment, and beatings are sure to lower that. On the other hand, if I beat a dog for piddling on the carpet, it will likely stop piddling on the carpet; its not a joke, its just cruel.

    In this case though, the boredom is totally self inflicted. Its less like punishment and more like "If you don't buy me a new toy, I am going to hold my breath until I pass out!"

    Like, to use an example, the players come across a locked door. They say they are stuck, and I propose they could pick the lock, which would take an hour, break it down which will make noise, or cast an unlocking spell which will take mana. The players will say they don't like any of those costs, and simply sit staring at the door hoping that someone else comes up with a brilliant consequence free scheme for getting past the door or that I will deus ex machina the door out of existence.

    What would you have me do in such a situation? What would you do?
    Have you housebroken a puppy? I hope you don't beat them. You give positive reinforcement by using things like piddle pads moving closer to the door, taking them out preemptively and cooing when they do their business outside, and so on. Be nice when they do what you want to encourage; don't be mean when they do anything else. Think of the story of the runaway train with all the stop signs. That was the first book I liked.

    What would I do? I wouldn't provide a locked door unless the players wanted a game to include locked doors. Do they not have a character who likes to pick locks, bash down doors, or cast knock? If not, I'd skip the locks and have the door guarded, if I wanted it "secured" by the story. That's if they like combat. If they like puzzles, I'd have a puzzle room.

    This is exactly what I keep trying to communicate: exactly like your players, you are attempting to force the game to conform to your desires. This is not a world given to you that you must run as written, and it happens to not be what they like; you are specifically creating situations where they will be unhappy and then absolving yourself of responsibility for any part in the result.

    For a neutral example, let's take Alice and Bob going out to dinner. Bob wants Italian, Alice wants Chinese. Alice takes them to a street with only Chinese restaurants and asks Bob where he wants to eat. Bob is frustrated and insulted. Alice asks "well there are only Chinese restaurants here; what do you expect?". Bob knows there are Italian restaurants on the other side of town, and Thai restaurants they both like in another neighborhood. Alice created a situation in which frustration was the only possible outcome by going to the street with Chinese restaurants in the first place. You're creating a situation with a locked door they don't want to deal with and acting as if that is a law of nature.

    Or think of a rogue who likes backstabbing. If you create a module with lots of undead, golems, and oozes, he'll be frustrated. If you say "well that's what we have here", he's not going to be mollified; you still took the game in a direction where you should have predicted the player would be frustrated.

    This is a theme I've seen throughout your threads.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    That being said, I don't feel like hoping players get good at a game is really unreasonable. Saying things like "playing in the manner I approve of" is just a really negative way of saying it. I can't imagine, for example, getting a game over screen and going back to world 1 because you keep running Mario into enemies and jumping down pits is some form of tyrannical control over the players on the designers part, its merely how the game is meant to be played.
    You are saying "get good at the game" is equivalent to "playing in the manner you approve of", as you specifically said you were trying to make playing in the manner they liked (conserving resources) boring and frustrating. If you don't like running Mario into an enemy sending you back to the beginning, you pull out a different cartridge. If I think AC: Paris (whatever the name was) sucks, as it did, I go back to Black Flag. But as a P&P DM, you are not locked into a deterministic procedure like a Nintendo is; you can respond to what your players do and like. Do they want to end each day with 50% resources remaining? Let them. Why did you use that analogy? It's something I'd encourage you to think about, because you keep acting as if you have no choice in your actions and no responsibility for the outcome.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    The spell isn't command rock, its speak with rocks. To use a D&D analogy, its Tongues not Compel.

    She cast the spell, I asked what she said, she said she gave a command, and I (both in and out of character) asked her what she was saying, and she refused. This is not the first time we have had this conversation, many times in the past she has insisted that talking in character is punishing to players with poor social skills and that all social interaction should be resolved with dice, and so that is what I gave her.

    I have no reason to believe they were RPing a frustrated or confused character in a seemingly impossible situation. The closest analogy I can see is taking a wrong turn and pulling over and asking the nearest gas station attendant how to get back to the main road.
    Is Kim possibly on the spectrum? I ask because things like acting in character can be stressful for people who are uncomfortable in social situations. You say you gave her "all social interaction resolved with dice", but then the result was a failure because of what she said to you, not a failed die roll base purely on the character sheet. In her situation I would be frustrated too, having thought you had agreed I didn't have to step that far outside of my comfort zone to enjoy my hobby and getting bait-and-switched in the end.

    If it weren't the Covid era, I would ask to observe a session the next time I'm up there. I'm sure it would be enlightening.

  12. - Top - End - #222
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    First of all, I definitely wasn't meaning to jab like that! Second, it wasn't specific to that context; I pulled it out and quoted it on its own because on its own, it makes the point I am trying to. Both you and your players are trying to force each other to play to your own (like, each's own) manner, and it doesn't work. When it doesn't work, there's conflict, and things deteriorate. That's what I meant by being close to a breakthrough - you are like your players. Different in flavor, but you both do the same things to each other and have for, apparently, close to two decades, like a fighting old married couple.
    Ok sure, I'll agree with you there.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    Have you housebroken a puppy? I hope you don't beat them. You give positive reinforcement by using things like piddle pads moving closer to the door, taking them out preemptively and cooing when they do their business outside, and so on. Be nice when they do what you want to encourage; don't be mean when they do anything else. Think of the story of the runaway train with all the stop signs. That was the first book I liked.
    Yes, I have housebroken puppies, no I would never beat one. I was merely pointing it out as an example of a situation where a beating could produce the desired result, whereas beating someone to improve their morale is a contradiction.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    What would I do? I wouldn't provide a locked door unless the players wanted a game to include locked doors. Do they not have a character who likes to pick locks, bash down doors, or cast knock? If not, I'd skip the locks and have the door guarded, if I wanted it "secured" by the story. That's if they like combat. If they like puzzles, I'd have a puzzle room.
    I think I do this, at least to an extent.

    They like combat, so I put in a lot of combat. They hate logic puzzles, so I skip puzzles. One of them is afraid of spiders, so I don't use spider monsters. They don't like violence toward children, so I don't put children in harm's way. Many players are uncomfortable with romance, so I keep it off screen. Etc.

    On the other hand, I want a consistent world (as do they, anytime the inconsistency doesn't go in their favor they are sure to point it out!) and so it just doesn't make sense that I can completely strip some elements from the game entirely, but I do try and minimize them.

    The problem, more often than not, isn't so much that a setting element exists, its that obstacles exist.

    To continue my above example, locked doors are not a problem for them, they can happily open locked doors all day long. BUT the moment they FAIL to pick a lock, suddenly locked doors are the worst thing in the world and ruin the entire game.

    The statue "puzzle" for example, was simply a search check that they succeeded on a 2 and was only there for versimilitude purposes. If they hadn't gotten unlucky and rolled a natural 1, it never would have even been the slightest of an issue.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    You are saying "get good at the game" is equivalent to "playing in the manner you approve of", as you specifically said you were trying to make playing in the manner they liked (conserving resources) boring and frustrating.
    I don't think I ever said that. Could you please link the context?

    I said that THEY get bored and frustrated because they refuse to spend the necessary resources required to bypass obstacles. And, of course, once they do that I get bored and frustrated in turn.

    Like, in the statue case above, they have bennies they could have used to reroll or modify their search roll to find the latching mechanism, and Kim has dozens of spells she can cast to solve the problem. But they don't want to spend the resources, so instead they sit there hoping that one of their fellow players will come up with a brilliant plan that bypasses the obstacle or that I will swoop in and solve their problems with a deus ex machina.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    But as a P&P DM, you are not locked into a deterministic procedure like a Nintendo is; you can respond to what your players do and like. Do they want to end each day with 50% resources remaining? Let them. Why did you use that analogy? It's something I'd encourage you to think about, because you keep acting as if you have no choice in your actions and no responsibility for the outcome.
    I seriously don't see how a game that you cannot lose is a game in any way, nor do I see how it could possibly be entertaining, or how decisions could matter. And I think that my players would agree both on a surface and subconscious level. Although I think pride also gets in the way of that, because they can't accept that they ever failed, and they have to tell themselves that they were somehow cheated any time they do fail, which, I think, is a seperate issue that doesn't actually have anything to do with difficulty.

    They do complete most every mission with a substantial amount of resources remaining, it still isn't enough. 50% would soon turn to 60%, which would turn into 70%, etc. My players frequent battle cry is "this is way too hard, sometimes we barely even win!"

    Last weekend I was playing a tabletop wargame with Brian. He was winning the game as a whole, and he was winning each individual fight. But he was still bitching that my models were too good because they weren't dying fast enough for his liking. Which is, IMO, kind of a microcosm of my gaming circle as a whole; lot's of weak egos that I don't have the skills to properly message.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    Is Kim possibly on the spectrum? I ask because things like acting in character can be stressful for people who are uncomfortable in social situations. You say you gave her "all social interaction resolved with dice", but then the result was a failure because of what she said to you, not a failed die roll based purely on the character sheet. In her situation I would be frustrated too, having thought you had agreed I didn't have to step that far outside of my comfort zone to enjoy my hobby and getting bait-and-switched in the end.
    I don't quite follow. Are you saying that in Kim's mind I promised her she would never have to speak IC and we would just assume she would always say exactly the right thing?

    To clarify:

    It's not that Kim is on the spectrum, just convinced that she doesn't know how to talk to people.

    She says it is unfair for someone who is playing an eloquent character to be required to talk IC as that diminished their character build, and vice versa it is unfair for someone who is charming IRL to be allowed to talk IC because that gives them an advantage.

    She says that all social interactions should be resolved purely by the dice rolls, which is what I gave her in this situation.

    The problem though, is that bringing out the dice introduced another point of failure, and after a second botched roll we were right back at square one.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    If it weren't the Covid era, I would ask to observe a session the next time I'm up there. I'm sure it would be enlightening.
    You are always welcome, although I am not sure how enlightening it would be as we would surely alter our behavior if we knew we were being watched.
    Looking for feedback on Heart of Darkness, a character driven RPG of Gothic fantasy.

  13. - Top - End - #223
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    Yes, I have housebroken puppies, no I would never beat one. I was merely pointing it out as an example of a situation where a beating could produce the desired result, whereas beating someone to improve their morale is a contradiction.
    My point here is that beating would not produce the desired result...

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    I think I do this, at least to an extent.

    They like combat, so I put in a lot of combat. They hate logic puzzles, so I skip puzzles. One of them is afraid of spiders, so I don't use spider monsters. They don't like violence toward children, so I don't put children in harm's way. Many players are uncomfortable with romance, so I keep it off screen. Etc.

    On the other hand, I want a consistent world (as do they, anytime the inconsistency doesn't go in their favor they are sure to point it out!) and so it just doesn't make sense that I can completely strip some elements from the game entirely, but I do try and minimize them.

    The problem, more often than not, isn't so much that a setting element exists, its that obstacles exist.

    To continue my above example, locked doors are not a problem for them, they can happily open locked doors all day long. BUT the moment they FAIL to pick a lock, suddenly locked doors are the worst thing in the world and ruin the entire game.

    The statue "puzzle" for example, was simply a search check that they succeeded on a 2 and was only there for versimilitude purposes. If they hadn't gotten unlucky and rolled a natural 1, it never would have even been the slightest of an issue.
    That might be a confidence issue. I hit the same sort of thing at work; when I'm given a problem I can work on while relaxed, it's fine. When given the same problem as "you must get this done this week" I lock up mentally, even if it's a thing that I would do in a day in the first situation. In their case, it could be anxiety firing off and making it feel as if the world is ending because of a setback.

    Now what to do with it is a harder problem, if that's even correct (meaning my hypothesis). I will also say that failing on a 1 is a problem I have with the d20 style systems as a whole; if I had more time my heartbreaker would run on cumulative successes and avoid the "5% chance of failure in what should be automatic" that plagues the d20 system, and gets worse with the GMs who have seasoned warriors cutting off their own feet on a 1 (not you, for that example, just my issue with the possibility existing).

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    I don't think I ever said that. Could you please link the context?
    Of course. Here's what I was referring to:

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    Hoarding resources keeps biting them in the ass both in and out of character; I am hoping eventually they will get the message that a resource you are too scared to use is just a number on a character sheet rather than something that solves problems or makes the game more fun.
    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    I said that THEY get bored and frustrated because they refuse to spend the necessary resources required to bypass obstacles. And, of course, once they do that I get bored and frustrated in turn.

    Like, in the statue case above, they have bennies they could have used to reroll or modify their search roll to find the latching mechanism, and Kim has dozens of spells she can cast to solve the problem. But they don't want to spend the resources, so instead they sit there hoping that one of their fellow players will come up with a brilliant plan that bypasses the obstacle or that I will swoop in and solve their problems with a deus ex machina.
    I do interpret "I am hoping that eventually they will get the message" is "I am creating these situations in an attempt to teach them to use those resources (as you want) instead of hoarding them (as they want)", which evaluates to "I am trying to get them to play they way I want instead of the way they want".

    It is a behavior induced by limited-use resources instead of check-based; in that concept-only HB of mine there would be no Vancian prep, only "roll a casting check for the power of spell you are attempting". You could do it all you want, but your best effects will fail more often. Wipes out the 15-minute day BS too, which is something I want to see die a fiery death.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    I seriously don't see how a game that you cannot lose is a game in any way, nor do I see how it could possibly be entertaining, or how decisions could matter. And I think that my players would agree both on a surface and subconscious level. Although I think pride also gets in the way of that, because they can't accept that they ever failed, and they have to tell themselves that they were somehow cheated any time they do fail, which, I think, is a seperate issue that doesn't actually have anything to do with difficulty.
    Hmm. While they're video games, you can't "fail" Halo or Assassin's Creed; you just die and return to a checkpoint. Ditto Diablo on normal mode. Those are certainly games. Tabletop... I'd really try to avoid "lose" as an option. What, if there's a TPK you just close the campaign and do something else? I'd always have a way to carry on with a new party instead. But also, this is one of the problems that occurs with bad modules (again, speaking in generalities, not yours). If there's a lock and the PCs have one way to get past it as written, and they fail or the party doesn't include that power or the character with it died... it's stonewalled. Multiple solutions to everything.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    They do complete most every mission with a substantial amount of resources remaining, it still isn't enough. 50% would soon turn to 60%, which would turn into 70%, etc. My players frequent battle cry is "this is way too hard, sometimes we barely even win!"

    Last weekend I was playing a tabletop wargame with Brian. He was winning the game as a whole, and he was winning each individual fight. But he was still bitching that my models were too good because they weren't dying fast enough for his liking. Which is, IMO, kind of a microcosm of my gaming circle as a whole; lot's of weak egos that I don't have the skills to properly message.
    And that, at face value, is when I'd have no patience to keep playing with them.

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    I don't quite follow. Are you saying that in Kim's mind I promised her she would never have to speak IC and we would just assume she would always say exactly the right thing?

    To clarify:

    It's not that Kim is on the spectrum, just convinced that she doesn't know how to talk to people.

    She says it is unfair for someone who is playing an eloquent character to be required to talk IC as that diminished their character build, and vice versa it is unfair for someone who is charming IRL to be allowed to talk IC because that gives them an advantage.

    She says that all social interactions should be resolved purely by the dice rolls, which is what I gave her in this situation.

    The problem though, is that bringing out the dice introduced another point of failure, and after a second botched roll we were right back at square one.
    I'm sorry, I thought you said the failure was because she issued a "command" instead of a "question", independent of the roll? And "convinced she doesn't know how to talk to people" is close enough...

    Quote Originally Posted by Talakeal View Post
    You are always welcome, although I am not sure how enlightening it would be as we would surely alter our behavior if we knew we were being watched.
    That is a problem that happens, but it might still be interesting. In any case, thank you, and I may take you up on that at some point. Maybe even this year.

  14. - Top - End - #224
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    Default Re: Talakeal's Campaign Diary (1 Day without a horror story!)

    All right, here is the last session before we break.

    Spoiler: Chapter Ten: The Scourging of Golgotha
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    April 1114

    Anani is awakened from a deep sleep by the voice of her god flatly commanding her to “Wake up.”

    She rises in the small hours of the morning and, as she dresses and washes up, she hears loud noises in the distance that she can’t quite make out. She moves out to climb the adobe wall that surrounds their plantation, and can discern the sound of distant explosions and gunshots, and when the wind shifts just right she can also hear screams and clashing blades.

    “The war’s started,” Quincy says as he climbs up beside her, “sooner than I expected. Damn.”

    One by one their companions awake. They see a light on the horizon which at first they mistake for dawn, but then Valentine realizes its true nature “Main Street is on fire, the casinos are burning.”

    The group waits quietly in the dark as they watch the fires spread and hear the battle rage.

    Tatters is still and silent, clearly paralyzed with terror.

    Suddenly, the entire compound is rocked by an explosion, a noise like tenfold thunder, and a blast of scorching heat and light. They stare in awe as a giant pillar of fire stands stretching to the heavens, leaving most stunned in confusion and awe, trying to rationalize this strange witchcraft.

    Valentine assures them “That was the old oil refinery going up,” but Tatters begins shrieking and trembling uncontrollably, obviously reliving past trauma.
    “That’s less than two leagues from here,” Kim says, “pack up your things, we need to get going.”

    Kim and Zara move to the makeshift garage they have built on the side of the complex to fetch the juggernaut while the rest of the group goes to gather what valuables and supplies they can carry with them.

    As the mercenaries make to leave their compound, they spy a group of soldiers moving up the street towards their compound. They are wearing sleek black armor which covers them head to toe, edged in glowing crimson crystal, neon-bright in the gloom. Two of them are larger and more heavily armored than the rest, and one is clad in the robes of a priest and carries a flag with the same curious symbol upon it that was worn by Nathaniel Bloodbourne.

    Before her companions can move to stop her, Tatters runs toward them, recognizing them as her one-time rescuers, waving her hands and calling out to them “We’re over here!”

    As she approaches, they raise their rifles and fire, hitting her a half dozen times. The frail, pink-haired girl instantly collapses to the cobblestones in a spreading pool of blood.

    One of the black knights proclaims “We are the Scourge; come to cleanse the world for the return of the true Emperor!” while the two heavily armored figures raise their flame-throwers and set the nearby buildings alight, before moving toward the plantation gates.

    Cut off from Kim and Zara, Valentine makes the call to run, flitting over the back wall. Krystal and Hraijin transport themselves directly into the garage using their respective supernatural powers, while

    Quincy mounts Esper, his new Templar steed, and leaps directly over the wall.

    Feur and Anani, however, have no choice but to stand their ground, caught in the open as they are.

    But, as the Scourge approaches, the priest raises his hand, looks Anani in the eye, and bows deeply. “Madam,” he says, and he turns on his heel and continues on his way, the armored soldiers following closely after.

    Anani is mystified, but doesn’t waste the opportunity, moving to meet up with her companions in the juggernaut. Though the plantation is not burning, the buildings around it are, and the fire will spread.

    Feur rushes to Tattter's side, hoping to save her, but sees that her wounds are too numerous and too severe, and too much time has passed for him to undo them. Desperate, he feels that now is the time to use the mysterious elixir which he has been carrying with him for so many years. He uncorks the ancient bottle and brings it to her cold lips.
    Suddenly, her timeline rushes from her like a last breath, and Feur absorbs it. He finds himself in another world, another time, where he kneels over Tatters, who is not dead by gunshot, but merely unconscious under a pile of rubble. He can touch her, but not move her, and he realizes that he has entered the last moments of the doomed reality from which she originated.
    He rises and walks about this strange dying world, seeing signs of carnage in the streets.
    Soldiers bearing the golden sun of Xian overrun the streets, massacring any who stand against them, be they Templar, Justicar, Imperial Militia, or even the few who dare to oppose them from the casino’s private security, the Black Scar Mercenaries. Even the soldiers of the other Warlords who were sent to protect their ambassadors while waiting for an opportunity to take the city for their own.

    Feur recognizes some of the combatants, such as Asmond Delecur and The Iron Swallow, but most are strangers to him. All of them ignore him, as he is unable to affect this world’s past in the strange, dream-like state, that he now occupies.

    Eventually, Feur finds what can only be the Warlord Umbriel herself, an Amazonian woman with shining orichalcum armor and a mane of blood-red hair that she wears like a cloak. Even though the haze of non-existence, it is all Feur can do to steel himself and avoid falling down and worshipping her.

    She is engaged in a dual with a man whom he recognizes from his vision in the desert tomb as Raven-Dies-Talking’s older brother. The old gunslinger is armed with ornate mithril revolvers that he wields with hawkish accuracy, and his steps bear in from one spot to another in the blink of an eye, fighting in much the same way that Feur has seen Krystal strike from the Hellscape.
    Still, no matter what angle he strikes from, Lady Umbriel effortlessly blocks his bullets with a large obsidian shield emblazoned with a six-pointed star, and once she has learned his pattern, she brings him down by tossing the shield to his location just as he appears, and then she is upon him, crushing his throat beneath her heel, adding him to the pile of corpses at her feet.
    As Feur watches Umbriel dispatch the city’s last few defenders, one of them, a blind man in monk’s garb, turns his head and looks directly at Feur with his sightless eyes, placidly ignoring the Warlord’s minion’s as they cut him down.

    Umbriel’s final opponent comes in the form of a preteen girl, with long pointed ears and violet-tinged skin that marks her as one of the fey. She reads from a book of spells, and weaves what Feur can sense are potent enchantments about the Lady of the West, but few seem to have any effect beyond getting her attention.
    The two engage in a brief duel of magic, which Feur can only perceive as alternating pulses of gold and silver energy, emerging from them like bubbles of power, before Umbriel proves triumphant, striding toward the smaller girl and grasping her about the throat. The Warlord laughs jovial, “You’re early. Your power is great, but has yet to bloom.” She then crushes the life from the small changeling girl, and swallows her soul, drawing ribbons of silver energy from her victim’s large eyes and into her own gaping mouth.

    Once it is done, she drops the husk at her feet, her triumphant laughter echoing across the city, and a corona of golden hellfire envelops her, the sense of ascension at hand as she knows that nothing can stop her now; her destiny to become the Demon Empress is assured.

    But then, the body of one of her victims rises from the pile of corpses which trails out behind the Warlord. It is a tall, pallid woman, whom Feur vaguely remembers Anani pointing out in the marketplace shortly after they first met.

    Darkness spills from the corpse-woman’s hollow eyes, and she proclaims that Umbriel should have known better, for her power is infinite and her rule is eternal.

    Umbriel looks around, confused, her confidence shaken for the first time, as even her patron in Hell is unable to explain what is happening, and her newfound godlike power helps her not.

    Wherever the revenant looks, black fire springs forth, burning reality itself away.

    As the world begins to bubble and break apart around them, Feur hears heavy metallic footfalls on the pavement below, and looks out across the ruined city to see knights in red and black armor, not quite the same as those of the Scourge, pulling Tatters from the rubble.

    As Feur goes to meet them, he feels a hand about his ankle, and looks down into the bandaged face of the blind monk.

    “Seek us out, in the castle beyond time,” he whispers, but before Feur can ask what he means, the world is lost to darkness, and he awakens back in his own timeline, on the blood-slicked cobblestones of Golgotha.

    Kim is soon at his side, gathering Tatter's broken body in her arms, and bids Feur into the crowded juggernaut. They move through the chaotic streets, Quincy riding alongside.

    The forces of The Scourge are everywhere.

    Their first thought is to find Lady Abasinia, either to seek shelter in their patron's manor or evacuate it if it has already fallen. They drive down Old Ardilla Road, but try as they might they cannot locate the lane which branched off into the Lady’s estate, and after a bit, Krystal comes to the conclusion that it must be somehow magically warded from detection, and if that is the case she is probably all right.

    They decide to leave town. As they roll down the highway out of Golgotha, they see that the street is lined with crucified bodies, Templar and Hellion alike. All those who defied the Scourge are made examples of. They recognize many of them, including Sir Jacul and Asmond Delacour, as well as the garrison which the Warlord Thanatos sent alongside Anani to protect her embassy.

    The most numerous among them are the soldiers bearing the blue-flag of Balthazar and the gray wheel of Livonia, shipped in by the train load to fight one another, but in the end being blindsided by a foe more terrible than either could have imagined.

    They drive all day, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the doomed city as possible, with no real destination in mind. Most are quiet and shell-shocked, and they say little. At sunset, they stop and bury Tatters in an unmarked grave on the edge of the plains.

    That night, when total darkness has fallen, Anani communes with her master in the Abyss.

    “Now you know your true purpose. The Scourge are agents of one who is known by many names; The Black King, Kain, The Sleeping King, Salebenothan, and more, but regardless of his title, he carries my heart within his chest, my power is his to draw upon.

    He will fail me. He will fall in battle to the Queen of a Thousand Winters. It will happen. It has already happened. It is inevitable.

    And when that happens, all of the power that I have given him will be hers to command; a child with access to weapons more devastating than anything you can conceive of, weapons that we will desperately need when our true enemies show their hands during the Age of Wonders.

    You are to assist the Scourge. Not because you want them to achieve their goals, you don’t and they won’t, but because every ounce of power which their master need not draw upon is one drop less which the Queen of a Thousand Winters will steal from me at the Moonlit Hour. You must seek them out.

    Share whatever you like with your companions, but know this, if The Black King learns of our plan, your use to me is at an end.”




    Overall, I think it went well. Not a lot of action, mostly a big exposition dump, but this should provide a lot of context and clarification for the overall story, although there are still a few big mysteries waiting to be revealed. The players wisely decided not to engage with the Scourge, which is fortunate, because that was a fight they would very likely have lost, and as we all know, my players don't tend to handle losing well. As is, they are bummed enough that their stash gets reset between tiers (in this case justified by their manor burning), for even though its a net positive, they are misers who don't like parting with a single thing.

    If all goes well, regular updates will resume in March, although we may have a few short interludes before then.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    My point here is that beating would not produce the desired result...



    Of course. Here's what I was referring to:


    I do interpret "I am hoping that eventually they will get the message" is "I am creating these situations in an attempt to teach them to use those resources (as you want) instead of hoarding them (as they want)", which evaluates to "I am trying to get them to play they way I want instead of the way they want".

    It is a behavior induced by limited-use resources instead of check-based; in that concept-only HB of mine there would be no Vancian prep, only "roll a casting check for the power of spell you are attempting". You could do it all you want, but your best effects will fail more often. Wipes out the 15-minute day BS too, which is something I want to see die a fiery death.
    Its not an active attempt at punishing them, merely a natural consequence of their miserliness. Nor is it something unique to my system, my adventures, or my GMing.

    My players are super reluctant to use any sort of resources. If they come to an obstacle where they need to use resources, they tend to either get beaten up, if its something active like a combat, or sit around bored if its something passive like a locked door. They then blame someone (usually the DM but sometimes one another) for their failure.

    To use an example:
    "Man, this dragon is super powerful."
    "Maybe we should use that quiver of arrows of dragon-slaying we have been carrying around?"
    "No, I am saving them for when we really need them!"
    Party is defeated by the dragon.
    "Man, that dragon was way stronger than we could deal with! Stupid killer DM wiped us on purpose!"

    I am really hoping that one day they will associate cause and effect, or at the very least come to the conclusion that a resource which is never used is effectively a resource that never existed in the first place.

    I have not been actively trying to teach them this lesson, let alone punish them, although if you can think of a way that I could do that which could produce results (and wouldn't cause them to over correct for the problem); I would genuinely love to hear it.

    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    It is a behavior induced by limited-use resources instead of check-based; in that concept-only HB of mine there would be no Vancian prep, only "roll a casting check for the power of spell you are attempting". You could do it all you want, but your best effects will fail more often. Wipes out the 15-minute day BS too, which is something I want to see die a fiery death.
    Its an interesting idea, but I feel like that system would be pretty limiting on player agency as the dice suddenly look all powerful.

    You also couldn't use a lot of fantasy tropes like divination spells, item creation magic, or potions which could easily wreck everything if spammable.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    Hmm. While they're video games, you can't "fail" Halo or Assassin's Creed; you just die and return to a checkpoint. Ditto Diablo on normal mode. Those are certainly games. Tabletop... I'd really try to avoid "lose" as an option. What, if there's a TPK you just close the campaign and do something else? I'd always have a way to carry on with a new party instead. But also, this is one of the problems that occurs with bad modules (again, speaking in generalities, not yours). If there's a lock and the PCs have one way to get past it as written, and they fail or the party doesn't include that power or the character with it died... it's stonewalled. Multiple solutions to everything.
    Actually ending the game is super hard to do, especially if you have a chronomancer like Feur in the party.

    I am not talking about campaign ending TPKs, merely ordinary failures like failing a skill check, becoming stymied by a puzzle/mystery, or being forced to fall back and regroup after a fight.


    Quote Originally Posted by TexAvery View Post
    I'm sorry, I thought you said the failure was because she issued a "command" instead of a "question", independent of the roll? And "convinced she doesn't know how to talk to people" is close enough...
    Ok, so this is a bit more complex because my understanding of the situation has evolved over time.

    Refusing to talk in character and demanding we resolve social interactions with a dice roll has been a long time issue with Kim, and it is what I thought was going on here at the time. After talking to Kim's player and people in this thread, I now think what was happening is that she was convinced the spell was "command stone" rather than "speak with stone" and what I what we were saying was going in one ear and out the other; while I was asking her "What do you say to the stones?" She was interpreting it as "Come up with an order that the GM can't possibly twist the wording of or rules lawyer". So then, when she just kept repeating her orders with slightly different wording, I didn't pick up on it, and instead thought she was obstinately refusing to speak in character (which, as I said, is a repeated conflict) and so I did what I thought she wanted and just let her roll a charisma check, which she unfortunately failed (which, as I said above, is a risk you take anytime you leave something up to a dice roll).


    So, in short, I have three problems:

    1: Players who want to resolve all social interactions with a dice roll.
    2: Players who are convinced that I am trying to twist their words or rules lawyer their statements.
    3: A misunderstanding where I thought A was occuring whe
    Looking for feedback on Heart of Darkness, a character driven RPG of Gothic fantasy.

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