Category: GM

Announcing Twilight Tangents – a multi-world sourcebook for Twilight: 2000 4th Edition

I’ve produced a couple of books for T2K4e but I’m really enjoying putting together this latest one. This book describes three alternate futures for the T:2000 game. Things to spice up the game.

GET IT NOW on DTRPG

Here’s some of the opening prose from one of the Tangents.

For your own reasons, you joined the Army and when SPR came looking for recruits, you volunteered. You were put into a squad with ten others. You trained together, you ate together and you slept in the same billet. You had to talk to doctors and psychologists – and then they gave you some injections which knocked you out.?

When you woke, you could feel something was wrong. For one thing, eight of the beds were empty. You and one other person were lying in bed. But that wasn’t the worst of it. There was something in your head – a tickle you’d not felt before – a feeling that wasn’t quite an irritation.?

Later that day, Staff Sergeant Mottram came in and sat with you. She told you that you were special. She told you she was there to help you through it. And she told you all this without her lips moving at all.?

Next day, you were alone in a room with Sgt Mottram; a room with a glass window on one side. You heard her voice in your head again and she told you something was going to happen and to just relax and let it happen.?

And then it happened. You felt the tickle, heard a noise like the rushing of blood in your ears and the world changed. You were special. You could do something special. You were unique.?

Then you were filed into a room for paperwork and then back into your uniform to join all of the other special, unique people in SPR. It’s like Basic all over again, except after your morning run you’re all filed into warehouses and made to set fire to things, read minds, and delve into people’s memories. Usual stuff.?

But at night you think about those eight empty beds and you wonder where they took number 9. Because you haven’t seen her since.?

Astute readers and fans of this site (both of you) may notice that this sounds a little like The 23rd Letter. And indeed it is. I’m debating whether to make a full sourcebook for T:2000. It’s a similar game to The 23rd Letter – actually slightly less crunchy but that’s no bad thing. T23L was always described as a bit of a deadly gun game.

T2000: CZTERY – Four Mystery Scenarios for Twilight:2000

Now available through the Free League Workshop, four mysteries for Twilight: 2000 referees who want something mysterious in their game. Ready to slot into an existing campaign or you can use the places (and maps) provided.

This does the work of expanding the environment of post-apocalyptic Europe from military missions and bleak survival to mystery, conspiracy and mythology. From the fertility gods of old, to a modern curse, from a lost child to revenge beyond the grave. In the lonely forests, there are things that move unbidden and mysteries that should remain mysteries.

The stats within are for Twilight: 2000 4th Edition but the scenarios and encounters can be used for any WW2 era or modern day mystery game

Includes high res maps of important locations and also a lower res doc for reference.

Download here on DriveThruRPG: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/385349/CZTERY–Mystery-Scenarios-for-T2K4

T2000: Andriy and Alexei

Andriy turned the key in the ignition and the engine spluttered into life.

….

Four days earlier they’d been slogging along the road, close to Srem. Both of them were so bearlike they could be mistaken for brothers, but while Alexei kept his dark hair closely cropped and his nose looked like it had seen too many fists, Andriy’s scalp was hairless and leathery and his features pinched and hawkish.

The moon hung low that night, with a large lone tree casting dark shadows over a heavily frosted field. In the distance to the North was a copse of evergreens. Andriy focused on them, he had a bad feeling; one that was confirmed by a hiss from Alexei who crept up beside him.

“T-72. Six men.”

Andriy squinted trying to discern flora from human and machine but sure enough, the hunting shape of a T72 tank rumbled out of one copse and into another flanked by six human forms.

It’s not that Alexei and Andriy were deserters; their units had been completely destroyed to a man and they found each other at opposite ends of a makeshift trench. They’d become friends over the few weeks since and Andriy shared his intention to return home to Kyiv Alexei grunted back; he had nowhere to go anyway so Kyiv was as good as anywhere. The last thing either of them wanted was to bump into someone who still thought the war was on; that one last (possibly fatal) push was needed.

As the T72 disappeared among the trees, the pair moved deliberately more south. They were heading to a town called Srem at first, maybe to secure some transport and then east towards the Ukraine border.

A crisp set of footsteps disturbed them; up ahead, following a beaten path, was an old man, dreadfully thin and wrinkles upon his wrinkles. Wisps of white hair stuck to his chin below a thick brimmed hat and above a threadbare wooden cloak. A piece of string tied to his wrist led to a somewhat pitiful-looking goat and under his arm was a loaf of bread. The two soldiers stepped from cover and levelled their weapons at the old man who, with a little protest (Fucking Russians!) handed over both loaf and goat. They didn’t express any remorse as they walked down the path towards Srem, munching on slightly stake, ill-gotten Rye bread and what they couldn’t finish they tossed to the goat.

About three hours later they reached the outskirts of Srem. The town itself was mostly ruins but there was light from a large barn to the south of the ruins. The pair crept up quietly until they could hear muffled conversation in Polish. As Andriy readied his RPK-74, he caught it on a stick and in steadying himself let off a single round. The noise echoed around the empty buildings and the conversation inside the barn ceased. The door burst open and four men emerged; one with a shotgun and the other three with farm tools. They shouted something in Polish, Andriy shouted back in Russian. The standoff ended when Wieslaw, the man with the shotgun, lowered the barrel. There was no interest on either side in prolonging a firefight. The Poles were aware of the firepower outside and both Andriy and Alexei want to avoid making more noise and maybe attracting the attention of that T72, which was bound to have a nosy and dedicated officer aboard.

Inside the barn, the two found some warmth in both the air and the company. There didn’t seem to be any resentment here; just a thankfulness of no further violence. They were offered some soup and a place by the fire. Andriy explained about the T72 and troops nearby and the handful of men, woman and a child decided to evacuate. They led the soldiers to the shore where a shallow bottomed boat was moored and an hour later they were rowing upstream with Jerzy and Daniel providing the muscle at first and then Gustav and Waclaw taking over.

About an hour before dawn, the boat slipped in bedside a small dock beside a large boathouse and the crew and passengers clambered off. The head of this household was a fat man called Wojciech and his Russian was good enough to hold a proper conversation. Wojciech asked Andriy and Alexei to be a further escort to Daniel and Jolanta (his wife) and Wieslaw would come along as security. Jolanta was close to the end of her pregnancy and would need a doctor; the nearest doctor being in Jarocin. For this task, they could borrow Wojciech’s pickup truck and they’d get 4 days rations as a reward.

But as simple as this seemed; Alexei wasn’t comfortable and insisted on putting on a proper watch which turned out lucky as the building was approached in the night by two renegade Americans. These poor souls didn’t have much chance against the superior skills of Alexei’s Spetnatz training and Andriy’s marksmanship with the light machine gun. They quickly consigned Private Pete Ricketts and PFC Bobby Bell to their maker.

But noise travels – and it was decided that it would be safer to leave especially with that T72 still prowling. The pickup truck was loaded and the five ventured east towards Jarocin. The town was skeletal in appearance, once a thriving Polish market town but now with empty buildings with darkened windows looking like a row of skulls. They arrived as the sun began to climb into the middle of the day and unloaded their precious cargo outside a large townhouse that had been converted into a field hospital. A nurse checked them over for wounds, finding none, and didn’t seem to mind they were Soviets.

Wieslaw committed to helping them on the next leg of their journey. The first thing was getting them a pickup truck.

T2000: W+35 (Flashback)

My situation is that I’m on the outskirts of Prague and I’m separated from my unit; perhaps they were all destroyed. I had to be careful, there was definitely a French unit around and some Americans. I stole a ragged uniform from a dead Polish regular and buried my own. I figured it would be the best way to keep alive.

I heard a vehicle approaching and ignored them until they cam close. I appeared weaponless (my PSM hidden in my groin). I could hear brash exuberance through their unguarded words as they slowed beside me and jabbered their questions. I replied with a smattering of Polish and Hungarian word and their doctor, a middle-aged woman of perhaps Iranian descent checked me for wounds. They didn’t seem to suspect that only a few weeks earlier we would have been deadly enemies.

As luck would have it, they fed me, gave me their water and piled into the back of their UAZ. I would have to bide my time. As soon as I had the chance, I’d be away but until then I would watch and wait.

T2000: W+50

Necessity is the mother of invention. Yesterday I caught a rabbit with a snare I made from a bit of wire. I hid in the foot of a hedgerow and pulled the corpse from the wire. The rabbit had tried to gnaw itself from the wire but the gauge was too thick. It died trapped and in pain, suffocating itself. I couldn’t afford to make a fire, I’m terrified someone would see it. So, I ate it raw. With the blood and the stink of offal I must have looked like something inhuman. And maybe I was.

I fell asleep where I lay, face streaked with blood and dirt.

I woke in the dim light of a sunrise. Red streaked skies and the sound of footsteps. I could hear voices, but they weren’t speaking English. The same fear that gripped me the night they got Dal siezed me again. I watched as two men entered the clearing. Short hair. Wearing dirty sweatpants and heavy coats. They paused, one lit a cigarette and one of them locked eyes with me. He said something and the other turned. My blood froze, I felt the pressure of my bladder and cold sweat on my neck.

The second man turned, waved his cigarette and then said something in an excited manner. I recognised him. The lone soldier. He seemed a lot more lucid. The two of the grabbed me and dragged me from the hedgerow. I shouted, I clawed and I could feel panic rising and rising. That’s when the other one, the one I didn’t know, hit me. Red stars exploded into my vision. I shouted. He hit me again. Blood in my mouth. Twice more he hit me and everything went dark. I was dimly aware of more voices.

T2000: W+44

It’s all gone to shit.

It did get worse.

Two days after the Colonel died, I woke from a nightmare to find Monk and Doc packing up their gear. They said they were going and they didn’t want me to come. And so they left.

I spent the next two days eating what little food they left me and trying to continue south. I thought the end of the world was hard before, I hadn’t realised there were new horrors waiting for me.

I caught up with Monk and Doc just as I was about to give up all hope. From the looks of things they’d bumped into a Soviet patrol and hadn’t been much resistance. I felt numb as I searched around the ruins of my former friends, trying to scavenge anything that would quiet my grumbling innards but Ivan had been too thorough. I was just about to leave when I spotted a flash of red and blue near the gearbox well. Wrapped in a torn flag were two apples, a little distressed from their adventure. I remembered the Colonel hadn’t eaten his but wrapped them in a scrap of flag for later.

I ate one and pocketed the other. It would spoil soon but I felt renewed. This was a sign that I was going to make it, that just as I felt all hope was slipping away, something would step out of the darkness and save me.

Southward was still my destination and I left Monk and Doc to the crows.

ZOMBI now available on DTRPG

ZOMBI is now on DTRPG. Originally distributed in hardcopy through the US and Europe, this is the first digital version.

The first few pages of this journal have been destroyed by fire and by weathering. The actual location of the structure is unknown. It becomes legible halfway down page six.

“Though the sun overhead had been baking the skin from their backs, his men had been digging without pause for several hours. After all, they were two hours behind schedule and they were losing money with every minute that passed.”

Some pages have been damaged describing the outer defenses of the structure.

“The stone rolled away quite easily, surprising two of the men who panicked in their attempt to get out of the way. The stone rolled on, oblivious to their cries and over a mans leg, crushing it from toe to knee. I didn’t notice until later for my attention was riveted to the space the stone had left. A hole, an opening!”

“Laverne could not decipher the hieroglyphics. He would shake his head and mutter about eternal life and how there was no opposite to eternal life. I didn’t understand what he was talking about. I had what I wanted. In a few days I would be recognised among my peers with this discovery”

“Two men in the workforce have died. The first one, the man whose leg was crushed, was stricken with a strange fever that seemed to abate but an hour later he was awake again and attacking the other people in the camp. He’d managed to kill his nurse before the men subdued him. Apparently they had to smash his skull open with a spade to stop him.”

“Five men came from the village today. They spoke to the workers in private. First they herded all of us into a single tent. Maurice shot two of them before they knocked him senseless. Then have taken the charges and the equipment and resealed the chamber. They are returning now. I think we may be in hot water.”

Transcript from the journal of missing archaeologist Alain LaFontaine unearthed in Egypt, 1992. LaFontaine discovered an unknown pyramid and went missing after a workers dispute in 1907. Translated from the original French.

What if the people who were dead got up one day?
What if they got up and started killing other people?
What if the people they killed just got back up and killed some more people?
What if it had already started?
What if that day was yesterday?
Zombi is a roleplaying game set in the world of the Zombi. The Dead walk the lands, killing and eating the living. Society has fallen and the only thing left now is to break out, find an island somewhere, live a little…before then end. But there must be more than just static and deserted cities out there? Sometimes you hear the radio talk for a while, sometimes you see lights in the sky and they remind you that even as the streets are haunted with shambling, rotting monsters, humanity is out there waiting for a chance to reclaim everything.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/380498/ZOMBI

And we released the chargen and combat rules for ERIS MODERN, the system used in The 23rd Letter and our upcoming superhero game.

T2000: A Christmas One-Shot

I’ve been asked to run a Christmas one-shot by my Friday night gaming group. I was thinking about one of the Dune intro adventures but as I’m just starting a Dune game on Monday nights, I thought to shake it up. My hard copy of T2000 4th Ed is currently sitting in another country so I’ve been watching videos and flicking through a PDF copy of the rules.

The character sheets are pre-gens that I’ve thieved from elsewhere. Let the players make their own characters as long as they’re from the same side, ideally the same unit. Group Cohesion is important.

Name Rank
STR A: HW: B, CC: D, ST: C
AGI A: DR: D, MO: D, RC: C
INT C
EMP D		 HP 6, ST 4, CUF D, MO D
Name Rank
STR B: ST: C
AGI A: MO: C, RC: C
INT B: RE: C, SU: C, TK: D
EMP C: CO: D		 HP 6, ST 5, CUF C, MO D
Name Rank
STR B: ST: D
AGI B: RC: D
INT B: SU: D, TK D
EMP B: PE C, ME D		 HP 5, ST 5, CUF D, MO D

PLOT

Waking up. Cold. December 2000. The players wake up. They’re in the woods in Poland. A light snow has already started to cover their bivouac shelters. The forest around them is picturesque but also eerily silent. The players are remnants of several troops that were dismembered during the last push.

Encounters The players should have the opportunity to have some encounters as they move. They think they’re heading south, away from Kalisz and away from the winter, away from Russia. As this is a one shot, and not part of the main plot, there should be one encounter now.

  1. Rózga. An old man wearing a green jacket, leading a goat. He has a loaf of bread in his arms, a little stale but perfectly edible. If they treat him badly, things will go very wrong for them. Everywhere they go, they will encounter little bundles of sticks. They’ll dig into their pockets and find twigs. If they treat him nicely, he will share his bread with them – which ends up being worse as it’s Rye bread, infected with ergot.
  2. The Town. They come across a small village, people fearful of strangers. The people will barter with them for food/drink/shelter. If they don’t have much to barter they will ask a favour. They want a small group of them to travel southeast to Wietun. Two men, one woman. They don’t have vehicles but they will supply a couple of pack mules. Hopefully the players agree. The woman, Jolanta, is wrapped up heavily and heavily pregnant. One of them men is her husband, Daniel. The other man is her brother Wieslaw. They may notice Jolanta wears a T shaped cross, on a chain. This isn’t the Tau cross, this is the symbol of Saint Anthony.
  3. Turo?. They see a strange figure in the woods. A long billowing sheet, topped with a horned head complete with flapping jaws. IF they shoot at it, it flees. If they chase it, they find nothing but the sheet. This is a local dressed in the local fertility deity trappings on his way to the next house to beg a glass of vodka or some fruit. He’s already quite drunk but will sober quickly and hide in the undergrowth, under the snow if challenged. If they are relentless, they will catch the unfortunate soul (Oskar) and he will be terrified out of his wits, especially if they have hurt him.

The Journey

The journey to Wietun will take 24 hours, so maybe three encounters.

Christmas Miracle The small group will travel slowly to Wietun, with encounters as usual. They won’t reach Wietun for a couple of days but the end of the second day, Jolanta needs shelter and they find a small shack where she can give birth. From then on they have noisy Christmas miracle to deal with as well. The players will have to use their medical knowledge to assist in the birth.

Wietun As the players and their entourage approach Wietun, they encounter the town’s remaining scouts. The town is filled with refugees, makeshift shelters and the smell of burning wood and food being cooked. The players will be greeted and then immediately asked if they are well. If they are uninjured they will be sent out to shovel clean snow into buckets and bring them to the fires to be melted into clean water.

The Council After a day (urban encounter?), the town council comes to the players. They offer them shelter and food for as long as they stay. This is their little Christmas miracle.

COMPLICATIONS

The Ergot is potentially the biggest complication. The GM should feed the players notes based on their perceptions.

  • If they give Jolanta any of the bread it will bring on parturition rapidly and violently
  • If they eat it themselves, they will begin to feel the effects of ergotism. Some of them will have pins and needles, some will feel their fingers on fire, others may start to see things. All will experience vomiting.
  • The hallucinatory effects of the Ergot will play up on fears, reduce CUF and it will make the encounter with the Turo? seem entirely supernatural. Players shouldn’t be told but they will fail almost every perception roll while under the influence of Ergot

If the players refuse to escort the people (or are violent), they should be run out of town and you can then just throw encounters at them until they run out of ammo and medical supplies.

If the players are unkind to the people they meet, they won’t be asked to stay. They’ll be given food and water, but asked to leave. They are outnumbered, so it will likely not turn out well if they try force.

If the medical rolls fail, the mother or child may die. If the mother dies, the child will live. If the child dies, describe how the morning comes but it never gets truly light again. Describe how what seems like snow, is actually ashes. Up ahead, the town of Wietun is burning.

MOVIE TANGENTS

  • Supernatural – draw from The Omen or The Prophecy to add a little supernatural horror/thriller
  • Alien – rather than adding Alien, add Brightburn.
  • Threads – the mother doesn’t make it, and the baby, well, it’s barely human for the thirty seconds it survives. Thoroughly downbeat.

INFLUENCES

The Nativity (c. 3 BC). Three Kings (1999). Silent Hill (2005). Threads (1984). The Blair Witch Project (1999). Kill List (2011). A Field in England (2013)

DUNE: The Landsraad

The Great Houses or Houses Major are the most powerful and important houses with voting right in the Landsraad. Their number was not fixed; they varied in history with political and economic fortunes, and depended to some degree on the strength of the Empire’s basic institutions: there were as few as 35, and as many as 157. all other, lesser houses belonged to “circles of the empire,” each.

The Legate

The leaders of the Great Houses and Major Houses seldom attend the Landsraad High Council, preferring instead to send Legates or “ambassadors”. The heads of Houses Minor and Nascent Houses, in contrast, often appear in person as it represents an opportunity to meet more powerful patrons.

Legates are often Mentats – enabling them to keep track of the many factors and numbers they need and working the probabilities.

Nascent Houses

The first step for a House was to get recognition within the Landsraad. This was a process of gaining influence and money, of trading favours for a sponsorship. Once the Petition to the Council is made, the House has to follow up with commitments and repay favours before they are accepted. In reality, this is done in word only. Most new Houses enter the Landsraad owing huge debts to their sponsors and, of course, brand new enemies.

House Minor

The Minor Houses are vassal to Major Houses and Great Houses and therefore part of their voting bloc. Voting with their patron house will be expected and any votes going against their patron would be met with severe retribution. An effective Legate might use this as an opportunity to switch allegiances.

House Major

The Major Houses have considerable influence, with the resources of an entire planet behind them. They are the main focus of the “circles of the empire”. They’re powerful enough that they might be able to ignore the dictates of the Great House blocs. They might even be able to make a name for themselves standing out against their patrons.

The Great Houses

Those houses with the highest influence, the greatest military strength or the most wealth create their own voting blocs within the Landsraad. Their Legate is surrounded with an entourage of Envoys (referred to as Whips) who spend their days coaxing and chiding their voting blocs and trying to bring in new influence.

The Moot

Four times a year, the Moot is held. It lasts up to a month and is all about the politics of the Landsraad.

Due to the complexities of Imperial Life and the Landsraad, usually only one vote is taken per Standard Day. The rest of the time is negotiations, conversation, reading the Proposal and Counters.

The morning starts at 5 am, beginning with Prayer and Dedications. After this is completed (usually lasting an hour), the Legates disperse for refreshments and to confer with others.
At 10 am, the First Reading Begins. This is followed by the Second Reading.
At noon, the Legates again disperse, breaking for lunch, which is again an excuse for conversation, for bullying and for instruction in the circles.
At 5 pm, the Vote takes place. After the significant preamble of the day, the Vote itself is almost instant with multiple Mentats counting the results. After the vote, the Legates again break for refreshments. This is the Reward or Retribution phase when Legates and their Envoys find their vassals and remind them of their vote.
At 7 pm, the results of the Vote are presented to the Emperor who will either Accept or Refuse them. It’s uncommon for the Emperor to refuse a Vote result, but not unheard of. As most Votes end in the most frustrating stalemates, the Emperor is seldom even present for this part of the Moot and instead his Delegatus is a stand-in.
At 10 pm the Moot is dissolved for the Day. The Vote results are disseminated to the Empire.

Scenario Ideas

What are ways you can get players involved in the Landraad and the High Council.

Come to the Moot

The Players House Leader or Legate is attending the Moot because there’s an important vote, maybe their own sponsored Bill (Privata Libellum). The Players are the escorts, the administration. They’ll be involved in the intrigues at their level as well as those at the higher and lower levels. BGs will be informed the way the BG wants a vote to go and to influence their Legates. Plenty of opportunity for intrigues.

Fix This

The vote isn’t going to go well. There are some Vassals who aren’t towing the line. Some of them just disagree with it while some of them are being courted by other major houses to influence the vote. Their Legate is clear:a list of names and only couple of hours to fix it.

Truth and Consequences

There’s an attack on the entourage. The Legate had signalled their intention to vote a certain way and someone doesn’t like it. The enemy could be a rival house, or even a liege house. The severity of the attack depends on the outcomes. The Vote involved could be important or it could be entirely trivial – it’s not about the vote – it’s about the message the attack carries.

Retribution

The Vote went the wrong way and the Legate wants blood. Punishment, murder are all on the table. Vassals beware!

DUNE

After watching the movie, the thirst for playing the Dune RPG (by Modiphius) is high.

The movie is filled with outstanding visuals and the background is sufficiently rich the only barrier to a dozen sourcebooks is, I guess, the license Modiphius holds.

There’s some astounding imagery. Fabulous for developing a game, visually.

DUNE: The VICINIS of the Spacing Guild

The question of the lack of alien life in the Dune universe has been asked many times. The coverage of the Known Universe is still small enough, in the massive scale of the universe that the Fermi paradox does not hold. But that’s not the reason there are no aliens in Dune.

The Vicinis are a military arm of the Spacing Guild. They’re forbidden to act officially on the planets of the Landsraad. The Vicinis Agents are tasked with “clearing the way” and “keeping the borders”.

Continue reading “DUNE: The VICINIS of the Spacing Guild”

The Start of an Alien Campaign

The Alien can’t be the main thrust of the story because, well, with the exception of Ripley and Jones, no-one survives an encounter.

So you need a story of intrigue which has the alien as the kick off or the denouement. Like in the Expanse where the fungus thing is its own plot.

Maybe the characters are a cult extraction team (people who remove rich kids from the ensnarement of a religious cult). They are shown a video from a billionaire’s kid where the youngster says they’re going to evolve. The patron wants their kid back …dead or alive.

They track down the cult through various dead ends and then start getting reports that the people they’re questioning end up dead. They get apprehended but while in custody, someone else is killed. They’re just about to get trackers fitted when the police techies discover they’re already being tracked!

Eventually they arrive at the cult headquarters, accompanied by a police presence (walking, talking bullet sponges) and it’s eerie quiet. They find empty egg sacs. But no sign of the cult…

…and of course…the players have to role play not much knowledge of what’s going on…

The cult, they determine have escaped off world to a nearby system. But attempts to contact them have ceased. The police just want to leave it but the patron says “dead or alive…” and reveals that they’ve definitely been murdering anyone on the way through shady connections with private security.

The players then have to track a starship which is somewhere out in the void…potentially filled with dozens of aliens…in order to get their payoff (or to prevent being killed). To track down the corpse of a youngster.

So they decide to go find it. They discover it drifting in space and all comms are down. The aliens have gone into their dormant stage. Getting aboard and retrieving a corpse will be tricky…especially when they discover the kid is still alive! Totally traumatised but alive. The gear aboard is too damaged to do a medical scan. ….do they bring this typhoid mary back with them to Earth or wherever? Fire them into cold sleep and wash their hands of it?

Sure. of course they do.

And the first layer of the onion is revealed when the private security arrive and take the youngster into custody in a sleep pod. …

Dune – The Sobaki

Hasimir Fenring has to be one of the most interesting minor characters in the book. A “might have been”, deadly, BG-trained, and seemingly with fingers in every pie. But it begs the question about other might have beens and “the test”.

PLOT THREAD

The players are the lower level companions, functionaries and agents of a Major House. Establish them as trusted and give them opportunities to advance (1-2 scenarios). Get them involved in the intrigues of the House, for example:

  1. A Bene Gesserit (BG) player may become a handmaid to the matriarch. They quickly become a confidante, a carrier of secrets.
  2. A Swordmaster or Mentat may be promoted to deputy within the House. They may be included in the personal guard, part of the training team for the Marquis and his heirs.
  3. The players, as a group, are sent to “mind” a legal shipment of Spice. There’s enough intrigue and theft around that the most trusted people in the family are sent to shepherd it.
  4. A player begins a romance with a cousin of the ruling family. The cousin is far enough from the ascendancy of succession for it not to be an issue (unless the GM decides that the cousin wants to kill their way to the top).
  5. The players are sent on a secret mission to Ix for a new set of fighter drones. Fighter drones are useful for helping warriors train, but they are literally a violation of the laws established during the Butlerian Jihad.
  6. The players are asked to accompany The Marquis to a meeting of the Landsraad. Most of the involvement will be hanging around in large halls, surrounded by the entourage and companions of the other Landsraad families. The players aren’t important enough to be involved in the decision making process.

After at least 2 of these have been executed, the characters are more trusted and closer to the Family. They should have become familiarised with the Marquis and Marchioness and their two children, aged 12 and 6. The children are typically precocious for Major House children; excelling in studies and in combat skills, versed in literature and music. During this time, make sure the players develop a relationship with the elder of the house heirs. This will become important. A Swordmaster may be a sparring partner, a Suk doctor required to bind wounds, a Mentat or BG to teach. When they return from a “mission”, have the child run out to greet them with the honorific “Sobaki”. This means “hound” or “one who bites” in the old tongue of the family. They’re the trusted ones within the family.

Now to the grit…

The heir of their House, a boy of only 12, has begun to have prescient visions. Certainly the boy has the sight and the initial instruction is to start instructing the boy in higher level teachings of both BG and Mentat skills.

The messianic messages of Dune are not the same (as we don’t have the influence of the Missionaria Protectiva manipulating the Fremen in this place), but there’s certainly something happening.

The senior BG in the House has immediately sent for a Truthsayer to administer the Test. Because there’s no such thing as a secret, there are other agents infiltrating the House to end the life of the heir. The Spacing Guild don’t want a Kwisatz Haderach. The Bene Gesserit don’t want one they can’t control. So, the youth is observed. The players may be somewhat aware of this (just tell them a Reverend Mother and Truthsayer has arrived with a small green box). But they’re too involved with their duties to be fully aware.

In the end, the might-have-been fails the test and is killed by gom jabbar. The players may be tasked with tracking down this ninja-nun, slightly complicated by the interference from the senior BG in the house (and presumably any BG players being double agents).

The BG player may be charged with getting the Reverend Mother off the planet safely. They may be also tasked with calming things “The Margrave must see reason. If her persists and goes to the Landsraad, the order will be endangered will be forced to retaliate. He, and his issue, will be utterly destroyed. It is in your hands to prevent this.” (Credit: James DiBenedetto)

The parents, senior nobles, are distraught. The BG are soon expelled from the House amid threats of bringing this to the whole of the Landraad. Then, suddenly, overnight, everything is back to normal. The child is still dead but the parents return everything to normal. The BG return and take their normal places. No-one seems to be talking about it.

WHAT HAPPENED? Pick one (or more)

Money and Power – the family have been assured influence and power via the BG which has bought back their loyalty. The Marquis is soon spoiling for more influence and power. They don’t mention their deceased child beyond an empty seat at dinner and rooms which remain locked. This outcome serves to remind us that these families are greed-filled, just like the Atreides (so often painted as the good team in Dune). It is all about money and power.

Rosemary’s Baby – Maybe they’ve been promised a ghola? It will be deeply disturbing when the child comes down for breakfast, unexpected. The players should be sent away for a mission, something lasting a few months and when they return, the ghola has perfectly integrated. How did it get there? On whose authority? Who paid for it? And why has no-one mentioned it?

Deep Suggestion – a late visit from a BG elder triggered behavioural modification in the parents, causing their grief to become melancholy and clouding their memory of what happened. Deep suggestion techniques are beyond most Bene Gesserit, but it paves the way for the BG to rewrite memories as they see fit. The child is never mentioned again.

Alternatively….

Kidnapped – before the Observation can be completed, the child is removed by the Spacing Guild as an early stage Navigator. With prescience this advanced in one so young, it would be incredibly useful to study him for the development of navigation using less spice. The Sobaki are then tasked with retrieving the child…and the BG are being strangely helpful. The players may also need to stave off the Bene Tleilax as they’re interested in a psychic child, untainted by spice.

Dune – preparation game notes

It must be noted that I have no direct plans to run a Dune game. But I am a little forced by my mind to examine the game and the concepts deeper than should be permitted as I am after all, running one game, playing another, holding down a job, studying two courses (film production and Spanish) and trying to be an okay human being in the moments between.

Holding Houses

On the FB forums, I’d suggested the roles of “Holding Houses”. Minor Houses, vassal to Great Houses, who are charged with the maintenance of things. An example would be the administration that occupied Caladan after the Atreides left for Arrakis. Or, after the destruction of House Harkonnen, it’s line broken, who shepherds Geidi Prime back to some sort of sensible nature.

The Cursed Party

There’s an enchanting idea in the concept of a cursed party: a male of Bene Gesserit training, an Imperial Doctor who failed the conditioning, a Twisted Mentat, a dishonourable Swordmaster. Perhaps there’s room for a party trying to make good on a past sin, perhaps they were destroyed through their use of atomics or lasgun/shields and were sheltered by a Great House (and the Bene Gesserit) to prevent the genetic line being totally destroyed.

The Godmothers

The This then leads another enchanting idea for a campaign; re-establishing a lost house. Or changing the direction of a house whose character had been stained. I am reminded of “The Godfather Trilogy”. Led by a fanatical Bene Gesserit, a young House-heir is revealed and works to try and restore the honour, prestige and prosperity of their family; all the while developing the need to have revenge, while old enemies circle to finish the job they started.

Character Notes

Notes on Bene Gesserit Characters: many males in the books receive the benefits of Bene Gesserit training to some degree. Paul Atreides is just something unexpected.

Notes on Fremen Characters: The rule book says that Fremen do not leave Arrakis. What’s missed is that no-one really leaves Arrakis. The Spice is so addictive that few can afford to. As soon as you leave Arrakis, the spice hunger begins. The Dune Encyclopaedia states on page 15 that Fremen do leave Arrakis “to goggle at rivers, lakes, oceans and jungles and then to seek their reduplication on Dune”. No doubt they bring their own supplies.

There are also some big questions that might lead to epic plots that are separate from the Atreides storyline.

FTL COMMS
The fastest way of sending a communique seems to be to put it on a heighliner. There’s no FTL comms. Though I’d be surprised if the Spice prescience didn’t provide the Guild (and the Bene Gesserit) with communication abilities.

HEIGHLINERS PETIT
The heighliners are huge but how small can a fold ship actually be considering it needs the life support, folding machinery, conventional propulsion and either nab computer or space for a Navigator.

ALIEN LIFE
It’s clear from what I’ve read that the only alien life in the whole universe is the Sandworm. In Dune, Herbert mentions that Terran flora and fauna have established themselves on Arrakis. No mention of native species.

ORIGIN OF THE WORMS
Certainly not native to Arrakis, then where did they come from? And their whole biology is tied up with human biology – surely they must be an engineered species? Or else they evolved alongside us.

There’s certainly more but that’s a good start.

The One Ring, session 01 – A Once-Forgotten Treasure

We’ve spent the last couple of weeks generating characters over Discord. We have one player in Seattle, two in Ireland, one in England, one in Cornwall and myself in Northern Ireland.

First session last night.

“A Once-Forgotten Treasure”

The Company:

Caranion, Dunadan sorcerer. Being tutored in magic by Gandalf himself.

Anwen, Dunadan Ranger, lately of Fornost

Falmariel of the Grey Havens

Farin, Dwarf Artificer from the Blue Mountains

Lemon Took, Hobbit Steward

The opening scene is Rivendell, where Caranion, Anwen and Falmariel have met for the first time.

Collected into one of the many overlooks upon the beautiful waterfalls in the Homely House, Gandalf takes their attention. He has heard rumours of a magical ring in the West of Eriador. Fearful that the rumours of one of the Dwarf Rings not actually being destroyed by Dragons, he sends three of his best wards (the players) along with the dwarf artificer Farin (another player), an expert in treasures, on a fools errand across the west of the lands to find something as small as a ring. That said, if this is indeed one of the Dwarven Rings, even such a small thing could have a huge effect on the future of Middle Earth in the wrong hands.

The Company met Lemon (the last of our Company) at Bree, in the Inn of the Prancing Pony, and signed her on as the steward of the party, ensuring that are well and had easy passage through the Shire.

They proceeded at first light to Michel Delving where they discovered a crime committed by a sinister looking Dwarf called Himbul Sternhammer. The thain of Michel Delving, Barnaby Cleese was so impressed by Farin and Lemon’s musical ensemble that he quite forgot the rudeness of the other dwarf. The welcome at Michel Delving was memorable enough – but the stain of the ill-mannered dwarf who stole food and drink before skulking off into the night was remembered.

As they left Michel Delving, Anwen of Fornost took off after the purported tracks of the Dwarf and returned to the Company camp by nightfall. As she filled her belly with roast chicken and taters, lovingly prepared by Lemon, she related how the dwarf was not covering his tracks nor was he taking care of the wilderness. A very curious Dwarf. His tracks led North, as the hobbits described, but after a couple of hours they veered West, perhaps his quarry is the same?

Early next morning, refreshed and buoyed up by good food and good company, they made good time and reached the White Towers by sundown. These towers, now derelict, once housed one of the great seeing stones. Comforted by the thoughts of being on the border of the old kingdom of Arnor and the Elven Kingdom of Lindon, they make camp again in the shelter afforded by the towers….

WatchTower: The Game

After many games of WatchTower played using rules from other systems (primarily the classic Marvel Super Heroes game), Matt and I have knuckled down to start writing the actual WatchTower game. We were planning to start a new group and play a Supers game (Godlike was the original proposal), and before you know it we had 12,000 words and all the major system components in place. This will be the first game we’ve written together, and the third published under LateGaming. For me, it’s the one I’ve wanted to write most (it will actually be my first full game, and Matt’s sixth!).

So, what is it?

Matt wrote the background for a supers game back in mid-90s when we played the first iteration, and then a quick primer for a new group that we kicked off in early 2007 that’s a good overview of the background. Most of the blog posts we’ve written under the WatchTower category are about games we’ve run or thoughts we’ve had along the way. It’s a labor of love, because we’ve played the characters and backgrounds multiple times, with different groups, in different countries. It resonates with anyone who enjoys the genre.

What makes it different?

As with all of our games, we value simplicity, flexibility and storytelling. This game reflects those values, and will allow gaming groups to play as any super (or Exotic, as they are known in-world) that they might want to, while having to remain grounded in dealing with real world consequences of what it really means to have powers, and to live in a world where powers exist. The background spans the last 100+ years, allowing for different flavours of game experience, based on the era in which you choose to play. Different classes of campaign are possible also, based on which powers are available in that era and what power level of Exotics you choose to play. The mechanics of character creation are simple and fast, while still having plenty of nuance to allow for interesting stories. This also works in favor of the GM – creating NPCs is a snap, allowing you to focus your energy instead on the flow of the narrative.

When will it be ready?

Ah, the big question! We are getting the mechanics ready to game with our group starting in the next few weeks, and use that as the main play-test. Meanwhile, we (who am I kidding? Matt) will be writing the background material, explanations for the powers, and useful descriptions of the game mechanics. We’ll be commissioning art for our favourite heroes, villains and scenes from the games we’ve played to tie it all together, and that can be the longest turn around for getting the book finished. So, the answer is: 2021, sometime ?

Stay tuned!

T2000: W+36

You ever get the feeling that things are about to get worse?

As luck and dumb fate would have it, we weren’t able to escape the area as quickly as we hoped. A puncture on the UAZ and an alignment problem with the axle which Monk couldn’t explain in simple enough terms left us stranded about ten miles from our last camp. The Colonel put us to work immediately with getting some camp netting up and harvesting tree branches to make a proper hide.

Monk said he thought he could get the UAZ up and running but this was the last time. We were running on empty for gas and parts. So, we unloaded our patient and put him, Doc and Dal in there. Monk worked on the repairs and I prepped my weapon. I just knew the Colonel wasn’t going to sit and wait for us to be tracked.

And sadly, I wasn’t wrong.

We tracked back to our late night position, where the Colonel saw the hunters and not a word was said when we found where one had succumbed to the Colonel. Nothing but a damp patch of ground was left. The Colonel paced back and forward a little, biting on his thumbnail, and then he muttered something about there being no tracks. Which wasn’t uncommon for hunters of course, but the problem is that I could see plenty of tracks, but these were dogs or something.

When the sun was at its highest point, we started to track back to our new camp. Over a small ridge we came to a stone cottage, a single plume of smoke from its lonely chimney. Kneeling in the yard outside, grubbing around for roots was a white haired old lady with olive-brown skin and about two teeth in her head. The Colonel approached slowly, weapon on his shoulder, and the woman greeted him first in Polish and then in heavily accented German. It was all double dutch to me, I could barely keep up but she kept pointing at the direction we came and saying the same word again and again. The Doc later told me that it meant “werewolf”, which just goes to show that you shouldn’t listen to crazy old women in the middle of nowhere after the world has collapsed.

We gratefully accepted some eggs and turnips from her garden, freely offered, but the Colonel gave her his last cigarettes and a United States patch from his uniform which seemed to delight her. I was delighted with the thought of an omelette in the morning.

The walk back to the camp was slow, our return route was over much rougher terrain than the way there and it was dusk as we arrived back. I was starting to jog back, holding the eggs in my hand triumphantly when the Colonel again hissed at me to be quiet. He pointed out two shapes in the camp and I have to say, my blood froze. It was those damn hunters again.

As my eyes got used to the twilight light, I could see that they had Doc and Dal on the ground and were shouting something at the lone soldier. There was no sign of Monk. With the practiced grace of a man who’s gotten in and out of stickier situations, I could only watch as the Colonel crept forwards. He was about thirty yards from the hunters when one of them pulled out a large knife and plunged it into Dal’s chest. I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t think it was even happening. Dal crumpled like a scarecrow untied from a pole and then I saw the Colonel move; he rushed the first hunter and football tackled him into the dirt. The other one looked around and started to circle, looking for an opportunity to strike at the Colonel’s back. I heard a shout and the Colonel collapsed, the same blade that had ended Dal was now embedded in the Colonels leg. I scrambled with my weapon, fingers numbed by shock, trying to find the safety. The hunters rounded on the Colonel who was now shouting my name. I could barely move.

The first hunter pulled the knife out of the Colonels leg and licked the blade. I still couldn’t move. The Colonel cursed at me and I could do nothing. They killed him then. Just put the knife in and out until he stopped cursing me. And I felt grateful as I couldn’t bear to hear any more.

What shocked me from my terror was a staccato burst of gunfire and the two hunters went down. Monk had been hiding under the UAZ and witnessed everything. He’d had a machine pistol we’d salvaged earlier as his main sidearm and it made short work of the hunters. He ran to free the Doc and see what they could do for the Colonel and Dal, but it was too late for both of them. I plucked up the courage to come in from my hiding place and Monk didn’t say anything to me. I lied to the Doc that I’d been too far to do anything and she seemed to accept it.

Everything has changed now. Earlier we had leadership, direction. Now we are just three lost souls somewhere in Poland. And the lone soldier? Doc says he’s getting better, but he’s still no use to us.

Useless. Just like me.

T2000: W+35

I still have my shopping list. We didn’t make it to Prague.

The forests here are a little threadbare. I think they might have taken some shelling but everything just looked unhealthy. Along an old road weaving through a forest clearing, we bumped into a soldier with a torn uniform heading the opposite direction. As we drew nearer, we could see his face was caked with blood and he was talking to himself. Doc insisted we stop and so the UAZ was stopped and the Doc administered to him while the rest of us covered him with our rifles. The Colonel was silent and kept watching the tree edges for an ambush. I could feel his tension.

Between Doc and Dal, they managed to get a few sentences out of the soldier – something about a local warlord ahead and his entire unit being massacred. Again, we didn’t have the ammunition or the numbers for a conflict so Colonel got out the map and compass and we routed a path which would avoid anything looking like a settlement or a crossroads.

It would add a day to our journey but what’s a day compared with the rest of your life.

The soldier was heaped in the cramped back of the UAZ and I ended up on top, presenting a very tempting target for sniper fire. I guess God was with me that day as I made it through the first day without dying. Small achievement I know.

As night fell, we made camp and the Colonel took first watch. I had closed my eyes for what felt like ten seconds when the Colonel was rousing me. He had Monk on watch and he pushed a weapon into my hands and hissed at me to be quiet. And then, under the baleful moon, we headed out of the camp and into the wilderness.

I was still half asleep as I tramped through the forest but the Colonel woke me from my dazed stroll with an elbow to the ribs. He made signals to look ahead and that’s when I saw them. Two burly figures dressed in deer skins, making their way towards the camp. I readied my weapon but the Colonel froze me with a steely stare – his eyes were focused behind me though. I felt the hot breath of something close, a stink of offal and the Colonel lunged, blade in hand and plunged it into the heart of whatever monster was behind me. He stabbed it a dozen times as it swore at him, before resting and then, bloodied and panting, grabbed me by the arm and made for the camp. I looked back and it was a hunter, like the two before, but this one a bloody steaming mess in the night, the moonlight glistening off the blood pooling on his wounds. He’d barely had time to make a cry before the Colonel had ended him.

We ran. We ran until our lungs were aflame and Monk was there, looking terrified as we burst into camp. Colonel roused everyone and everyone was issued a weapon, even Dal. We established the perimeter and Colonel was in the centre, making sure everyone stayed frosty. The only noise I could hear was the faint moaning and chattering of the soldier in the back of the UAZ. There wasn’t a mouse or a barn owl that was fit to entertain us.

A stillness descended on the camp and the moon burned round black holes into our night vision. We watched and waited for something to approach. I don’t know how long it was, but I know that I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

As the dawn broke, the Colonel got us all moving again. The tension of the night before evident in the drawn faces and red eyes of everyone. Doc made sure the lone soldier was comfortable and we got the UAZ cranked up. We were still going to make the detour but I thought that was a bad night. I was sadly mistaken. We’d pissed off some pretty horrible people and we weren’t going to be rid of them easily.

T2000: W+27

According to the Colonel, strong sergeants make strong soldiers.

I can believe that. Our CSM was a soldiers soldier. You cut him open and he bled red, white and blue. He was just as you read about – moral, principled, heroic, stoic, and a role model for folks like me. During the Fall I saw a different side to him. As the shells burst around us, he was like the rest of us, cowering and screaming. Knowing that this was within him, that he was only human, was somewhat inspiring. It meant that I could be as good as him one day. He was only human so what’s my excuse?

The Colonel is a guy like that. Larger than life but ultimately human. I’ve never met a commander like him – and I probably never will again. He’s got the right kind of authority; the sort that makes you want to please him. Like every shitty task he’s telling you to do is him placing trust in you that you’ll do it right. It would break my heart to see him cowering in a foxhole.

Food has been particularly scarce in the last week. We have rations but we are doing our best to conserve them. Eating the perishables before they perish is obviously sensible. So today we had apples. The Doc knew how many apples we had and she said she noticed the Colonel wasn’t eating. She finds him exasperating – when she confronted him, he said he was saving them until he found some really nice pasty crust. Some sugar. A little cinnamon.

We’d need an oven too. Or a fryer. I prefer fried pies but Monk thinks I’m crazy. Beside’s he says we only have engine oil to fry them in.

Tomorrow we should be near Prague. And I have a shopping list.