It’s just getting started, so there’s not a ton of the material that’s here just now, but I’m starting to port over the more popular stuff from this site to there. Come join us.

We’ve got the main page where everything new shows, but it’s also now broken into pages for games and geeky stuff, movies and entertainment (reviews and the like), firearms, and motor sports — this set up allows the fans of certain content and maybe not others to exclude those and get what you want.

…or why do your characters matter?

The American Heritage Dictionary defines reach /rēch/ as an intransitive verb meaning 1. To stretch out or put forth (a body part); extend, “reached out an arm.” 2. To touch or grasp by stretching out or extending, “can’t reach the shelf.” 3. To arrive at; attain “reached their destination; reached a conclusion.”

This is a difficult one. I had thought about breaking with how characters can embody these terms and talk about the reach of games themselves, but that gave me the hook I needed for this piece. How much influence on the world do characters actually have? What is their reach? What is their impact? What should it be?

In many fantasy or science fiction stories, the hero(es) wind up having an outsize impact on the world. From pastoral hobbits drawn into possibly world-ending war, or Paul Atreides’ prescience, whose actions permanently change the path of history; to the legacy of James T. Kirk or actions of the Avatar in the series, whose exploits become unforgettable historical touchstones — larger than life characters reshape their worlds for a time, or permanently. Now compare that to that private detective who tried to stop the moral decay around him in that particular case that gets under his skin…but who might die unremarked, or whose efforts, ultimately, are forgotten because “Forget, Jake; it’s Chinatown…” — characters who win a small battle, but which is ultimately lost in the currents of time.

What should be the reach of the characters be? That depends on how epic you want your campaign to be, I suppose. For the epic fantasy world, the characters could rise to godlike levels — be the Alexander the Great of your world, whose influence continues for millennia. Or, it could be a simple pastoral adventurer who goes on little adventures to save his village or local area, becoming a local legend that maybe is a footnote in the history of your world.

This is exactly the question for my Legend in the Mist campaign that has just rolled out. Set in 800 AD Norway and later Britain, it follows a group of Vikings that get their start with a spectacularly lucky win over a troll, and who are now tasked by the local giantess (gygr in old Norse) to combat the sweep of the “interloping god” in Brtiain. They’re about a half century ahead of Harald Fairhair (the first-ish king of Norway) and many of the Scandinavians that will wind up ruling Ireland, and portions of England and Scotland. So…do they wind up footnotes in history? Do their conquests get things rolling for those who come after? Are they, perhaps, forgotten by better PR for Harald? Or do we have our own alternate history where the Harald Thorsson and Trogdor Trollmorder lead the Vikings to triumph over the Britons and Franks? When it’s your own world, it’s up to you and how epic you want your heroes to be.

In spy game or a noir detective game like Blacksad, the hero is often supposed to be unsung in their efforts. Even James Bond, “that British spy — from England” was only “[in]famous” to others in his world. John Wick brings down multiple dark overlords in the movie series, but outside of the (wildly extensive) world of assassins…was he known, at all? In fact, in the ‘80s James Bond: 007 RPG, fame was a negative that could work against you in the field. Part of being a secret agent is the “secret” part. For detectives outside of Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes, you might be known in your industry or particular town but that was about it. You might have moments of fame, like that cop at the Nakatomi Tower, but people have a short memory.

The question of what reach characters should have becomes more tricky in licensed universes like Star Trek or Babylon 5Lord of the Rings or Alien, for example. In these universes, certain things happen in an order. The hero characters do certain things that are important not just to the plot, but to world around them. For instance, in Lord of the Rings RPG, much of the action happens in the interstices of Tolkein’s history of Middle Earth. You could play a character in the events of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, but unless you are committed to an alternate universe, you will never save Minas Tirith, destroy the One Ring, etc… Playing Babylon 5 (either the Mongoose version or the odd Chameleon Eclectic version), the events of the show would most likely be playing out in the background. You could play in the corners — maybe fighting the clark regime and linking up with the main characters from the show, you could play a little know human colony fighting on the edges of the Shadow War; you could be a soldier in the actions of the show itself — but you aren’t going to end the war or create the Interstellar Alliance (again, if you aren’t just going for an alternate universe). 

But how far was Ripley’s reach in the Alien francise? She was the last survivor of a doomed ship that almost no one listened to. She saved a few people at LV-426, but if you keep in the universe, all that is summarily undone by Alien 3 and for the most part, she’s had minor influence outside the events of Alien: Resurrection. The world around trundles on. you might be another influential crew in Star Trek, but — again, unless you’re doing an alternate universe — they’ll always be overshadowed by Enterprise or Voyager. That could actually play into how the characters view their game — “Damn it! We saved a race from a computer that was keeping everyone young and healthy, but we got slagged by Starfleet for not providing support after we blew up their computer god.”

So, the notion of reach, or the scale of your game, is a good thing to keep in mind as you design a campaign, be it your own Dungeons & Dragons setting, or your next Ghost in the Shell game (now doing a Backerkit campaign — the system looks intriguing!)

“With great responsibility comes great amounts of complaining.” — Me

Today’s is an interesting prompt. The concept of a character having some kind of burden to carry is typical in most fiction, going waaaaay back. There are a couple of movies dealing with this concepts front and center in the theaters: Spider Man: Brand New Day and the Odyssey. In the first, there’s the weight of being separated from friends to protect them from the enemies that come with doing the superhero thing; the second is the weight of guilt from a decade of war, the burden of having incurred the wrath of the gods, and the burden of command — trying to get your men home. All good beats for drama and character development.

But even every day burdens can be a good foil to a character. What about the responsibilities of family weighed against those of your job? A good example of this is Jerzy Novak — a player character from our Blade Runner campaign. He’s been on the force since before the Blackout, and now 15 years in, he’s on the Rep-Detect Squad. He’s got a wife, a nurse at a city hospital; and a 10 year old son that they are trying to get into an exciting Off-World Development Corporation education program that all but assures a good job and a life Off World. Novak has to balance his work with the LAPD, where — when he’s not retiring “defect product”, he’s subbing in with the Robbery Homicide Division. There’s always a crime, there’s always a court date, there’s always lead or stakeout or or or…

His marriage has been rocky for a while and during play, Novak discovers his son might not be his (biologically) — he and his wife were having issues around that time. He accepts the child as his responsibility, anyway. He tries to rebuild the marriage with his wife, all while juggling a high profile case that has gotten steadily more dangerous. He’s got to miss meetings at work occasionally; he’s got to miss family time, occasionally. It’s not the mythic levels of burden we see in the two previous examples, but it’s the kind of burden that wears just as much, just quietly.

A burden could be a promise made — to a loved one, a dear friend, a patron. The last is a classic for a fantasy character: a king, a patron, a god demands a labor…the penalty for not following this could be the loss of reputation, banishment, imprisonment, the loss of your soul. A more pedestrian one could be breaking the promise to a friend or spouse, parent or child losing you that NPCs support — it’s not earth-shaking, but for those that have lost a loved one over a stupid argument or a series of failures to follow through, it can have a heavy effect on a person. It might not lead to a fight with a big bad; but it could lead to a great emotional through-line for the character.

Picking up a burden that isn’t really yours is a good character beat, as well. One of the best examples of this is Ripley’s taking on Newt in Aliens as a surrogate daughter (made better by a two minute cut scene dealing with Ripley discovering her daughter had recently died, while Ripley was undiscovered in cryo.) She doesn’t have to take on the girl, but she does — and that emotional connection changes her motivation from one pure survival to one of protector. Taking on that apprentice or other responsibility doesn’t just give the GM a pawn to be targeted, if can create the kind of tasks that can interfere with the main story line just in the day-to-day upkeep of that relationship.

Becoming a leader is another example. In Ted Lasso, Roy Kent — the aging football star, is a grouchy, prickly piece of work that wants nothing to do with sorting out his teammates and helping to build them up. Coach Lasso’s use of a Wrinkle in Time to nudge Kent into taking on the responsibilities of team captain lead to a hysterical scene where Kent is reading to his beloved niece and he gets to a passage something like “It has to be me…” Kent tosses down the book with a “faaaaaaaaaaaack” and storms off to set things right (in this case the bullying of the kitman by some of the players) — but not before stopping to his his niece good night and growl when she tells him he said a bad word. Moments like this can really make for a good night at the gaming table.

Being the mentor to another character can also make for good roleplaying. Two of the players’ characters in our Star Trek campaign were fresh out of the academy, and the older characters not only have the responsibility of training them to be the best they can be, but they are legally responsible for the well being. Starfleet is dangerous, and putting these newbies out there to learn their jobs with some level of safety, while letting them make the mistakes they need to learn from, made for an interesting interaction.

The notion of burden for a character is a central character building point — be it the need to avenge your fallen whatever, to follow orders and do your duty, to taking on responsibilities because your the only one that can do it. It doesn’t have to be heavy, but it will always help develop the characters.

Charm is the not-secret weapon of many a character, both hero and villain. The ability to manipulate a person is perhaps the most powerful weapon a person can have in their arsenal. So for this day’s prompt, I decided to roll with a character built as a red herring in an investigation in our Blade Runner campaign. Set in the year 2037, Wallace Corporation has just dropped the first of the Nexus 9s onto the streets of Los Angeles, and one of the characters is a newly minted N-9 that is working in forensics and gets assigned to aid the others in a murder investigation that takes them from the “feelie” studios of Hollywood, to Beverly Hills parties, to the “kipple” outside of town.

To really squick them out, I wanted to have a replicant that was not the average attractive doxie, but something the likes of Hollywood would want to buy: hence Arabella. A Nexus 9, she’s just been bought as a prop/companion/conversation piece for the famed actor Bradley Faire — a man renowned for his ability to pull emotion out of a scene, and for causing scandal off. At a party tracking down a lead, the characters encounter Arabella (N-9/AB6-3.12), a female replicant in the form of a young teenage girl with a gothy aesthetic and clothed in a fetishy-goth style. While this made her profoundly discomfiting, it was the very adult charm mixed with the image of youthful innocence that really got under two of the players’ skins. Where the plight of the replicants was still just part of the plot for them, this really drove home the awfulness of their situation. Even worse was realizing their fellow police officer was probably no older than she was, despite appearances to the contrary.

ARABELLA (N-9/AB6-3.12) while she was written up originally as a “doxie”, I converted her to “siren” under the Replicant Rebellion rules set that dropped this year. For the skills, assume level D (d6) if not listed.

STRENGTH: B (d10) Skills: Hand-to-Hand Combat C (d8); AGILITY: A (d12) Skills: Mobility A; INTELLIGENCE: C Skills all D; EMPATHY: A Skills: Manipulation: A

Health: 7, Resolve: 3

She wound up being somebody they wanted to protect…but she’s not a person; she’s product. During the session, a kill squad attacks the party, and Arabella is obviously terrified and once backed into a corner, murders the crap out of one of the hitmen about to kill one of the PCs in spectacular fashion. However, she is able to convince one of the characters to cover for her. Later, the player admitted he found the character a highly disturbing. Which was the goal.

BLADE RUNNER and related marks and logos is the property of ©2022 Alcon Entertainment, LLC. All rights reserved and no infringement is intended. The Mutant Year Zero game system and its variants are the property of Free League Publishing.

Day three on the matrix supposedly deals with “intellect” and the “birthday poem” of Fair of Face. The word: poise /poiz, pwäz/ defined as 1. A centimeter-gram-second unit of dynamic viscosity equal to one dyne-second per square centimeter; 2. Confident composure; self-possession “answered the reporters’ questions with poise.”; 3. Bearing of the body, especially when graceful “a ballerina’s poise.”

I don’t think we need to worry about the viscosity of a character… so composure (day 16) or self-possession (discipline, day 1); or physical grace. Let’s go with the latter.

On this one, I chose a character from an abortive campaign for Legend in the Mist that was to be set in Scotland during the time of the Viking invasions. That campaign has since been supplanted by a Viking campaign set in 800 AD, so this character might well turn up, but as a challenge for the players…who knows?

One of the nice things about the LitM system is the simplicity of character creation. Instead of stats, you have descriptors (or “tags”) that are part of four “themes”. These all contribute a +1 to a roll unless you “scratch” the tag for +3. (Once scratched, it cannot be used until recovered.) So here we have Aisling, one of the seelie — the “fair folk”. She is a creature of sublime beauty and grace who can manipulate people with illusion and charm, but is bored with such a long life, so she’s curious and reckless about her dealings with humans. She is also a target of the unseelie — the corrupted of her kind. The leaf in each theme card is an “origin” level theme, the crossed sword/arrow, “adventurer” level which would give a +3 to tags used vs. an origin-level character. So that would make this a fairly powerful character in the starting, rustic style of Legend in the Mist.

The original plan was for her to be a kind of mentor on the weird things in the world, but a novice to the violence and politics of the human world.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines stature /stăch′ər/ as noun meaning 1. The natural height of a human or animal in an upright position, 2. An achieved level; status, 3. The natural height of an animal body; — generally used of the human body.

So how might stature motivate, drive, or define a character? For this one I decided to use four characters from our Star Trek campaign to illustrate how stature might be used.

The first uses a character introduced in yesterday’s post, Commander Fiona Kerr. The character, physically, is about average height — in this case, the stature is her rank: a commander, and the commanding officer of the heroes’ vessel. By the nature of her office, she has a status that is higher than the others, and places this NPC in a superior role to the PCs. That was purposeful to use her as the “glue” for the PCs to get attached to the ship, setting, etc. but also to have an instrument to keep the players on track during an adventure. (Also, placing a character in a superior position socially or in authority is often a tricky thing until the players and the characters have established a rapport.) She is also the only character in this group that came from nothing: a family on the dole and generally living a small life. She is the one that got where she is through hard work and spite; but the others have a different story.

Kerr contrasts sharply with her best friend on the ship, Lieutenant Sheras Kor, M.D. Kor was a successful doctor who joined Starfleet for the Klingon War and was posted to the PC’s ship. He saved Kerr’s life; she’s done the same. An Andorian, he values family, rank, and honor highly. In his case, he is the son of a minor aristocrat (even though the titles are “ceremonial” is the running gag, the heads of the respected clans are still highly influential). One of Kor’s fathers (Andorians marry in fours…) is the Andorian ambassador to the Federation and a member of their equivalent of the Security Council. So, Kor is an “important person” beyond his commission in Starfleet, and his family connections often provided cover for the ship and crew when they were less than successful. In this, he is more influential, with more status and privilege, than his own commander. (He’s also tall…as is the player.)

Kor’s stature is — in some ways — matched by two other characters on the ship: Lieutenant Junior Grade Stephen Archer, their new helmsman and a relation to the first president of the Federation, and whose name and connections to other Archers in Starfleet mean that he has folks interested in his success. He doesn’t have the pull of the doctor, as a new officer, but his value “My Family IS Starfleet” means that he often takes actions that might not be advised because his family’s stature requires him to act in a certain way. (He’s also Scott Bakula tall — 6’4”.) There’s more expected from him on a social and institutional level than is probably fair. But it also sets his main goal — to be a better, more famous captain than any of his uncles or his father.

His roommate at the academy and best friend is the last of the four: Ensign Garav Idrani. A member of a famed military keth (clan), his entire parental structure is tied to the Andorian Imperial Guard (now just the Andorian Guard — ‘cause, you know, all those titles are ceremonial). Like Archer, there’s a lot expected of this guy. One — the player decided this was Dolph Lundgren in blueface; he’s massive (6’5”). As the security officer, his physical stature has come into play a couple of times in play, both in combat and social settings. Two — as the son of Guardsmen, there is an expectation of excellence and service that he simply can’t ignore; his social rank might not be the same as the doctor’s, but he is still Andorian gentry, if you will. Lastly, he is a world champion ushaan fighter, a celebrity; this means that when dealing with Andorians and certain sports fans, he has a status that is higher than any of the others just described. He has a reputation to maintain, and that is a main driver of the character.

Each of these characters winds up have their own advantages, drives, and limitations due to their status: the captain came from nothing and many in the admiralty view her as an interloper (though they’d never say it openly); her drive for a life of excellence means she treasures the rank, the recognition, and it motivates her to take risks that sometimes might be inadvisable. The doctor is a representative of his family in the organization, and as a possible inheritor to his father’s positions, he has limitations in what he can and can’t do — which complicated an almost romantic relationship with his captain. Archer wants to be THE Archer, and he’s got big shoes to fill, and he takes foolish chances that have gotten him into trouble periodically. Idrani, similarly has a lot to live up to, but has already started to cut a name for himself, so when he screwed up in play, it had real consequences for him with his family.

The default for a character motivated by discipline is usually a military or similarly employed person. Discipline is central to military training, but it need not be due to how most folks view this word. When you’re young, discipline is often extrinsic — there are rules, parents, teachers, coaches — and the most commonly associated thing with discipline is punishment. As an adult, discipline might still be extrinsic: I don’t want to go to jail. I don’t want to lose my job…but the most successful people tend to be ones where discipline comes from within. Discipline, the Swanson Pyramid of Greatness tells us jokingly is “The ability to do a boring thing over and over again” but it’s more than that.

Discipline is the ability to restrain your emotions. It is the ability to push yourself past your limits, fears, or to do that boring thing over and over again. Ask anyone who exercises regularly — it’s getting past that first (and most recent) “I don’t want to” to do what you have to. The lack of discipline is the main point of failure for most new college students. It’s the point of failure that causes corruption, and by extension the collapse of trust not just interpersonally, but at a societal level.

So, here’s two versions of a character driven by discipline. The first was crafted quickly in the excellent Outgunned!system by Two Little Mice. I based this on someone I know well — Robert Moray is an interrogator, former army, well educated, and worked as a contractor through the global war on terror. He sought out for his ability to create rapport above all else. He’s the guy you send to schmooze drug dealers and other criminals; or send in with a team to collect a high value target to interrogate. He’s not a brute, but can rise to the occasion. His main ability is his ability to be what he needs to be, to full invest in that persona, then use it to be who his target needs him to be. The downside to something like this is that deep down, the good person doing this job for “the greater good” has had to do awful things and his conscience attacks whenever he’s not in the thick of it. The scary thing is how easily it is for him to put that all away and be who he needs to be at that moment.

What is it that keeps the demons at bay? What is it that helps him keep his cool when he needs? What allows him to smile at a bad guy and treat him like his best friend when he wants to put a bullet in him? Discipline — the ability to control himself.

The second choice for this is a character that will probably pop up a couple of times this month. A major NPC, she was written up as a player character — a habit I have for central NPCs that will show up on a regular basis in a campaign, and will even likely be aiding the player’s characters. This one was originally crafted in the old Decipher Star Trek system, but is presented here in Modiphius’ Star Trek Adventures format at what would have been the start of the campaign.

Kerr’s driving force has always to be better than she is. A council housing kid, Fiona was driven to escape mediocrity. She wasn’t a great student, but an excellent athlete. She barely made it into the academy, rocked out of science but landed in security operations when her physicality and personal skills allowed her to graduate in the middle of her class. Despite excellent fitness reports while a security officer and later head of security on the starbase at Andoria, she was overlooked for promotions, due to the lack of prestige of assignment, but also the influence of an admiral and a former instructor with a grudge.

However, her tenacity and fearlessness during a crisis on the starbase brought her to the attention of Captain Garth of Izar, who snatched her up for his chief tactical officer and pushed through promotions to get her up to where she should have been. With the outbreak of the Federation-Klingon War, she was able to show what she could do with inspiring leadership, a good head for tactics, and an absolute refusal to surrender or show fear. At the Battle of Deneva Prime, she rescued her medical personnel and killed the commander of a Klingon force in hand-to-hand combat, and was gutted in the process. She barely survived, but is infertile and badly scarred in the abdomen. At the war’s end, she was Garth’s hand-picked successor, and while she was given the office of captain, she was denied the rank and remained a commander. (Her former instructor, again…)

Kerr is a fierce opponent and a loyal friend, she awards merit and scorns sloth. She has a vicious temper and sharp tongue, but she can be very diplomatic when it suits her. Or in Captain Garth’s words, “If her people or her personal reputation is on the line, Fi won’t stop and she won’t allow you to win out of sheer spite.”

The copyright for 2d20 system is Modiphius, 2019. STAR TREK and related marks and logos are trademarks of CBS Studios inc. All Rights Reserved and no infringement is intended.

In preparation for RPGaDay this year, I’ve been thinking about characters that fit one or more of the prompts. This naturally led to how we create characters in roleplaying games. 

There are, broadly, two ways to do this: the stats/race/class come first, or the idea comes first. For a lot of the early RPGs, that first path was often more common. Example: in the bad ol’ days of Dungeons & Dragons and the d20 stuff that followed (Gamma WorldTop Secret, etc…), a lot of players would maybe have a preferred class and race in D&D, or know they wanted to play a G-Man in Gangbusters, but often the stats came first — strength, constitution, what have you. My elven wizard has X in wisdom. From there, after minutes agonizing over a name, (I’ve always found this amusing…) you might start to throw together a basic picture of who the character was, or just let it form in play.

Nothing wrong with this. It’s fast and gets you into the game with a minimum of preparation, and way back when roleplaying was more of an extension of wargaming, players were much more interested in combat as the thing. Character was often secondary. There are fewer of these RPG systems, these days — Lex Arcana is a good example of this, but mostly you have to look back to older stuff still being played to see this focus on “roll playing”. It’s kept D&D in the public eye for decades, and it’s one of the reasons it’s still the most popular game system on the planet.

The second is to have an idea for a character up front. You have, at least, the bare bones of a persona you want to inhabit for a few hours at the gaming table. For instance: I want to play a private eye that is not hard-boiled, but surprisingly kind and empathetic — and this naiveté is he main weakness in a noir setting, where societal corruption is usually a theme in the background. I don’t have much else built in, yet, but it’s a great idea with good hooks — a character less likely to resort to violence, a guy that genuinely cares about the people he’s helping, and a glaring weakness that, for once, isn’t simply he’s a sucker for a dame. Why is he like this? Maybe he’s a war veteran and violence repulses him…but he’s good at it, and hates that part of him. 

A change came in RPGs around the ‘90s. You started to see games more focus on this second style of play — “role playing” — immersing yourself in a character and a world. There were hints of it showing in the ‘80s. James Bond: 007 had the idea of “weaknesses”, something any English major will tell you is what makes a hero interesting. It was a central part of comic book RPGs like DC Heroes and Marvel Superheroes, if only because limitations to a character’s powers were part of the tropes of the genre. 

When building your character, a few simple questions help get this started: who is this person — what is their defining trait? Why do they do what they do? What or who matters to them? What or who do they hate? Where are they from and how does that affect how they act? Right now, there are a few systems on store shelves that are really good at helping a player create a character, not just a set of numbers. The standouts for this approach to gaming, where the system helps you flesh out a character and the stats encourage playing the strengths and weaknesses are Legend in the Mist and the Avatar games, both based on and a refinement of, the Apocalypse World engine; and specifically two of the 2d20 systems from Modiphius: Star Trek Adventures and Dune: Adventures in the Imperium; and the very rules-lite Die: the Roleplaying Game, based on and developed in tandem with, a comic book of the same name.

Each of these systems revolve around the development of the character less from the level-up standpoint of roll-playing, and more from a how do they change as people. The best of the bunch for the theater kids out there is Die. You develop, together, not just your character in the world of Die, but the player playing that character; the other players also have input on who this person is. Then the players’ own desires and failings inform not just the character — an expression of their wish fulfillment — but the enemies, stories, even the settings that adventure in. It’s very meta. It’s also very cool.

As good in Legend in the Mist (and their City of Mist), where characters are not about their stats, at all. You have four themes — devotion, skill or trade, some physical characteristic, for example — and “tags” short descriptors that may or may not help you in an action, like Charming or Strong as an Ox. These each add a +1 to a simple 2d6 test. There are weakness tags per theme, as well, and these are essential to the improvement of the character. Your weaknesses and failures help you learn; not your successes…much like real life. You goal milestones level you up, in so much as allow you to change themes and tags as you grow. 

Similarly, Star Trek Adventures and Dune have your goals, values, and weaknesses built into the character at creation and they have mechanical impacts in play. In Dune, your Values (Power, Duty, etc…) and your Skill (in broad terms like Understand or Battle) add together to give you your target number for a test. If a test does not impact your Duty, say, but your Faith in leaders or a system, that alternate Value is used for your test. STA has Value statements that give you game currency that can help supercharge an action — for instance, resisting intimidation, or taking an action that might seem futile might play into a Value or Spite is a Powerful Ally. These help drive a player to have their character act in ways that might not always be in their interest. Addicted to Love is one character’s Value in our STA game. He falls in love easily — and gains game currency for taking the hit due to the value, like being a sucker for seduction or persuasion by women.

The matrix above shows character beats that are useful both for individual character, but also for a group’s character, or even overarching themes for a campaign. This is something starting groups sometimes miss: why they are working together. There are a few easy ways around this: you all got hired for a job and meet in the stereotypical tavern; if you’re in a military, police, or other service setting — you all got assigned there recently; or happenstance — our plane went down and now we’re all we’ve got. Building out why they are there and how they interact at the start is an extra step that slows getting right into the action…but it does help create interesting games.

Of the systems noted above, Son of Oak’s Mist games do this well. in Legend in the Mist, you build your “fellowship” along with your characters. You not only have tags for your players, but ones for the group as a whole. you decide what the relationship is to the other players and that can be used as a tag when interacting with each other. Die has the players build their player/characters together, define how they view themselves and their friends, as well as what kind of world they would be interested in playing.

So as we roll into RPGaDay, I’m hoping to use these prompts not just to showcase character ideas, but how these can be used for group dynamics and story ideas.

After 2000 rounds, I started experiencing the occasional light primer strike on my Daniel H9. I’ve had this happen from time to time on certain pistol designs, including the Glock 20, the Walther P99 and PPQ, and the Walther PPK. All of these designs have an open striker or firing pin channel.

In the case of the H9, to test it’s reliability after all the horror stories of the first generation from Daniel Defense, I ran a 500 round test with everything I could lay my hands on from high-end Underwood 90 grain +P Xtreme Penetrators through green & white box Remington 115 grain, Fiochhi, 124 grain (it likes this bullet weight best), Scorpion 124 grain, and the bargain basement 124 grain from Patriot. The latter had really hard primers that only the new Inglis Hi-Power from SDS could set off reliably; every other pistol I had experiences light primer strikes. And the Daniel only had them on this crap ammo…until about 14-1500 rounds in. I was getting a light primer striker every few boxes — usually in the first two mags. About a 1% fail rate. 

So I tried an old trick I’ve used for getting into trigger mechanisms and dirty firing pins: blow out that firing pin channel. Squirt a bunch of cleaner into the channel, let it sit for a few minutes, then used compressed air or one of these new battery-powered “turbofans” you can get off Amazon, and blow the crap out. It’s going to come out of every nook and cranny it can, so doing this first is generally a good idea. Once I’m done with cleaning everything else, I’ll give it one more blast to make sure I’ve got everything.

No more light primer strikes.

After a year’s wait, the Legend in the Mist, Son of Oak’s “rustic fantasy” roleplaying game, physical product finally arrived. I had Kickstarted the full thing after looking through the Quickstart last year. Since then, my game group has been kicking the tires on Legend in the Mist, since the PDFs dropped last fall, but this past week the physical copies finally arrived. So were they worth the wait?

WordPress has been a bit quicky on multiple images in galleries, so to see the pictures, you might want to pop over to The Black Campbell Review over on Substack.

My box set arrived with the two core books (with optional dust covers), the Hearts of Ravensdale campaign and setting book, GM screen, a pack of maps and tokens, the Action Grimoire, the “river pebble” dice (d12s set up as d6s) and dry-erase theme cards for creating characters, as well as a dozen or so premade characters sheets for the campaign.

The cardboard on the box is high quality and made of good stock, and of course, covered in the excellent artwork from the books. Binding on the books is excellent, and paper and print quality is likewise. The core books and Ravensdale are hard cover, while the Action Grimoire is softcover — however the adhesive quality on the binding is superb. Even the cover sheets on the material are gorgeous and printed on premium stock. The character sheets and theme cards, and the “status/tag leaves” are coated for dry erase use — a handy thing with the system’s creating and “burning” of tags and statuses. We used them this Thursday, and they do the job as they are supposed to. The theme cards I suspect would be more useful for short campaigns or games where the players will be changing their tags and the like frequently.

Most likely, players will wan to create their own characters, but the character pack comes with pre-generated roles. Like the rest of the game materials, SoO really went all out: instead of single sheet character profiles, they are two-page, folding profiles with full artwork, and coated for dry erase use. They include a short “how to play” and example actions for the characters.

The resin “water pebble” dice are in nice pastel colors with a figure are the 6. I have the acorn dice coming next week — did I need them? No, but so far the production quality on this game has been so good, I feel like rewarding the Son of Oak for their efforts. (I bought a set of their acorn d6s, and they are adorable and really lean into the “rustic” flavor.)

The GM screen is on heavy stock and the material is highly useful. With a bit of imagination and creativity, you could probably run the game without any referring to the books, as they give a slew of examples of how to use their tag system for consequences on failure.

If you want a first impression review of the system, you can find it here. So far, our paytests have showed LitM to be quick and easy to play, and it encourages more storytelling and role-playing beats than other fantasy systems. That said, the use of tags and statuses can be a bit of a learning curve, and this ties into character creation. Nearly all of the players leaned heavily on having a lot of tags in their core competencies — this system’s equivalent of min-maxing — and they would frequently find themselves left short on other important skills.

The Heats of Ravensdale setting is well realized, with plenty of places to adventure, more theme kits and challenges that can be used for adventures outside of the setting. (I’ve running a 800s Viking campaign, right now; we’re pulling from it for material.) I haven’t really gone through the book, yet; but from a physical production side — it’s a (rustically?) fantastic product.

So, is Legend in the Mist worth it? Unreservedly, yes. In this case, the whole Ravensdale Bundle runs about $200. Compared to the core books for Dungeons & Dragons, it’s a steal for everything you get.

I’ve been remiss in doing the RPGaDay for several years, now. The day job required a lot of attention in August, and the last few years saw the school year start in July, so I rarely had time to do more than a few posts. This is the first year without a schedule in the way, so let’s see if we can do a post a day this month.

Here’s the prompt for this year:

The prompt calls for character creation, and I doubt I’m going to do 31 characters — but posts on how to integrate some of these themes in character creation, creating motivations, and challenges feels like the right way to go.

As always during RPGaDay, readers are encouraged to comment with their own ideas and approaches to gaming. This is about enjoying our hobby. So, August 1, RPGaDay starts