Roleplaying Games


Luisa is the only daughter to Roberto DellaMarina or Rome, a real estate broker, and his second wife, Reina Pavahli, an Iranian-born vinter in the Etruscan region of Italy who escaped the Islamic Revolution (the family was Maronite Christian and her father a poet of note.) Her grandmother is alive and living in Switzerland, her cousins live in the United States.

She was born in Milan in 1980, and has two half-brothers, Paolo and Marco, both who live in Rome, and whom she is on decent terms with. Schooled at an expensive Benedictine-run girls school near the Vatican, and while intelligent and a good student, she was frequently subject to discipline for being willful and mischievous (although she suspects the nun that took the most relish in her punishment was secretly interested in her.)

She attended the University of Rome from 1997-2000 and graduated with a degree in history and religious studies. She went to graduate school for archeology at the University of Siena from 2000-2005. She specialized in sacred archeology, and in particular Catholic artifact and archeological restoration. As a result, she was hired by the Pontifical Commission for Sacred Archeology in 2006 as a restorer, and later as a researcher. Her connection to the Institute for External Affairs began with support research for an exorcism that too place in Romania, but over the years she has increasingly worked as support for IEA priests in the field. She has a reputation for being highly competent, and a very fast researcher, but a bit of a cold fish. She lives in a very nice flat for her income, thanks to her father’s rental company, and also has a room at her mother’s place in the country. She usually has a few cases of her mother’s wines in her pantry.

She hides her personal life from view of her co-workers as her moral turpitude clause in her contract could be an issue…Luisa is a lesbian, and until recently has been particularly promiscuous. She has had a number of girlfriends that might be considered “high-profile” to certain denizens of the internet. (She’s dated a quasi-famous Czech porn star for several years.) Currently, she is trying monogamy with her roommate — a nun with the Visitation Order, Sister Agnes (nee Marianne) Jean Duchamps, a smart architectural major who took her vows a few years ago. Sister Agnes (or Marianne to Luisa) does not have to live cloistered due to her order and her work for the PCSA. While the women think their relationship is a secret, there are several of their workmates that suspect.

Luisa likes the finer things — she is a food aficionado (but does not cook) and a connoisseur of wines, art, and clothing. She likes to dress well and has a taste for Persian (never “Iranian”, “Persian”) jewelry, poetry, art, and pre-revolution culture. Due to her family’s treatment by the ayatollahs, she has a barely concealed hatred of Islam. She is passingly religious, Catholic after a fashion (like most modern Italians), but does believe in the supernatural. The people she works with have encountered it too many times. (She has noted an uptick in supernatural events over the last five years…but has yet to puzzle out the reason.)

Agility d6   Strength d6   Vitality d6   Alertness d10   Intelligence d10   Willpower d6

Life Points 12   Initiative d6+d10   Endurance d6+d10   Resistance 2d6

Assets: Allure d2, Higher Education d4, Natural Linguist d4

Complications: Dark Secret d4, Dull Sense, Nearsighted d2, Insatiable Curiosity d4, Klutzy d4, Lustful d4

Skills: Athletics d4, covert d4, Craft d4, Discipline d4, Drive d2, Influence d6, Knowledge d6 (Archeology d10, History d10, Linguistics d8), Lore d6 (Mythology d10), Perception d6 (Investigation d8, Search d8), Science d4, survival d2, Tech d6

 

She gets her looks from her mother, rather than her father, who was red-haired and is now balding and a bit fat. Her mother is still very good-looking. Her brothers are both reddish-brown and curly-haired and blue eyed.

Jerry’s dad is a former army officer turned investment banker; his mother is a schoolteacher. The family’s done well throughout his life and he’s a lazy, spoiled brat. He’s smart however and before computers really took off had leveraged his computer skills into a steady job doing IT and security support around the world. (He’s in his mid-30s.) He’s a geek — he plays RPGS, collects toys and comics, knows the lines to every sci-fi movie, and is a big horror fan. In his spare time, Jerry is a ghost hunter, trolling around the “haunted houses” of New York City and New Jersey.

Yes, he’s kissed a girl, and even had a girlfriend. Yes, he’s had sex…with girls.

Jerry has a toy collection worth more than his house. He hates Mac fanbois, loves Google, Ubuntu, and open source stuff. He hates the redone Star Wars movies, and thinks LOTR is the shit. He’s studied just enough martial arts, kendo, and shot guns to be dangerous to himself and others.

Jerry is 6’2″, 270ish pounds with receding red-blond hair, blue eyes behind heavy glasses, and tends to wear sports jerseys and pants, and hoodies because they’re comfortable for people his size.

Agility d6   Strength d8   Vitality d6, Alertness d8, Intelligence d8, Willpower d6

Life Points: 12   Initiative d6+d8   Endurance 2d6   Resistance 2d6

Assets: Gear head [d4], Reputation, computer security and ghost hunters d2; Tech Expert d4, Uncommon Knowledge d2 (he’s an expert in all things geek and especially horror and Lovecraftian “lore”.)

Complications: Absent Minded d2, Dull Sense, Nearsighted d4; Insatiable Curiosity d4, Overweight d2, Stingy/Mooch d4

Skills: Artistry d2, Athletics d2, Covert d4, Craft d4, Drive d2, Guns d4, Influence d4, Knowledge d4, Lore d4, Melee Weapons d2, Perception d4, Science d2, Tech d6 (Computer Systems d10, Hacking d10), Unarmed Combat d2

Leonard “Leo” Parkes

Born 16 July 1966, Leo Parks is the son of a Boston fireman, Capt. Daniel Parkes and his wife Julia. He grew up in south Boston and in 1984 attended the University of Massachusetts at Boston for criminology with a minor in psychology. He graduated in 1988. He applied for several law enforcements positions: Boston PD, Massachusetts State Police, and on a whim, the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He was preparing for the BPD academy when he was surprised by his acceptance into Quantico, the FBI training school in January 1989. He did well in the courses, and excelled particularly in criminal profiling and interrogation techniques.

He was assigned to the Boston field office for his first two years and was instrumental in breaking a south Boston car theft ring, and a bringing down a mob boss that had been abusing his FBI informant status for nearly a decade. He also met and married Morgan Philips — a smart, head-strong Irish Catholic girl who worked as an accountant for Harvard University — in 1991. He was reassigned to the Denver office for two years, working on an interstate crack cocaine ring, but it was his pegging one of the suspects in that case to a string of grisly murders throughout the Midwest that brought him to the attention of John Douglas, the famed FBI profiler.

He was reassigned to the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime, where he quickly showed himself to be a natural in the field. From 1995-1998, he and his partner Bob Morton investigated particularly gruesome crimes that involved elements of Catholic doctrine, and in 1998, he finally caught his man — Richard Evan Greaves. While interviewing Greaves, Leo could feel something “off” about the man and when he was found hung in his cell a few days later, Greaves always felt the scene was “wrong”…Greaves was not the sort of man to kill himself.

Then his wife and six-year old son, Jason were found dead in similar circumstances to Greaves’ victims.

Leo was a suspect in their murders for a few hours. His closeness to the case had made him edgy and unstable, but he also had an airtight alibi — he was debriefing a case at FBI HQ when the murders happened. He was never right again, slowly drifting into alcoholism and obsessive behavior concerning the case of his family’s murder (still unsolved.) He was able to perform his duties, but was increasingly erratic. He was one of the first FBI agents to respond to the Pentagon on 11 September, 2001 and was awarded for aiding in the rescue of survivors.

The last four years of his career saw him sidelined into research on cold cases, several of which he solved, but in 2005, his drinking and explosive temper put him in a position where Bob Morton — now the ASAC for NCAVC had a choice — fire him or retire him early. Recently, his father died of cancer and his mother is ill and living with his sister Laurie in Quincy, MA. He has several cousins who are firefighters and cops in Boston and New York City.

For five years, Leo has worked as a private investigator and occasionally gets a consultant gig for the Bureau through the NCVAC. He lives along the Chesapeake River in a big house, the same his family was killed in, still drives his old 1969 Mustang Fastback, and fights depression and paranoia every day with drink. His personal assistant Wanda is pretty much the only person that keeps his “skinny Irish ass” in line, when she can.

The other reason he drinks — he sees ghosts, of those he couldn’t help, tried to help, and worst of all, his son. These spirits taunt him when he’s weak, prop him up when they can, and occasionally provide aid. But they are driving him to drink and the edge of insanity. He sees them because of his sensitivity, his mild ESP that is what made him such a fantastic detective — he can feel when people aren’t truthful, can get flashes of intuition about their thoughts, memories, etc.

Parkes is tall, skinny, blond and rough-looking. (Think Denis Leary.)

Agility d6   Strength d8   Vitality d8   Alertness d10   Intelligence d10   Willpower d6

Life Points 14   Initiative d6+d10   Endurance d8+d6   Resistance 2d8

Assets: Contact, Law Enforcement d4; ESP d4, Reputation d4, Spirit Guide d8, Talented Investigator (adds to Perception/Investigation and Influence/Interrogation) d4

Complications: Addiction, alcohol d8; Anger Issues d2, Infamy d4, Obsessed d8, Personal Haunting d8

Skills: Athletics d6, Covert d6, Discipline d4, Drive d6, Guns d6 (Pistols d8), Influence d6 (Interrogation d8), Knowledge d4, Melee Weapons d6, Perception d6, Science d4, Survival d2, Unarmed Combat d6

Preferred Weapon: S&W 1076 10mm (Dam: d8W [d6W w/ stand. FBI load), Ammo: 9, Range: 50′)

 

Father Colin James “Mac” McEveney, S.J.

Born 10 May 1971, Colin is the first of six kids to Joseph and Mary McEveney of Pittsburgh. His father is a city councilman and former city worker, his mother is a 911 supervisor. He has several uncles — a priest, policeman, fireman, fire department chief; his three brothers are a police lieutenant and detective, a fireman, and a Democratic Party staffer in Chicago. His sisters Meave and Caroline are respectively a schoolteacher in Monroeville, and administrative assistant to a Pittsburgh city councilman (not his father.

Colin was an altar boy, and early on was torn between two callings — the military and the church. He simply knew he wanted to serve his fellow man. He attended Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, a top-rated Catholic school for philosophy and graduated in 1992. He joined the seminary in 1993 after taking a year to assist his local diocese and gaining the priest’s recommendation. He travelled to Innsbruch, Austria to train at the Collegium Canisianum — a Jesuit school with a long tradition of turning out scholarly, respected and influential men of God. Father Colin is a member of the Societus Iesu, a Jesuit, sometimes called “God’s Marines.”

He was an aide to the Archbishop of New York from 1999 to 2001, when the attacks on the World Trade Center occurred. His rectory was only blocks away and he was one of the first priests to arrive on the scene. He aided in rescue and performed last rites for those found dead. Afterward, he gained permission from the archbishop to join the US Navy as a chaplain.  Lieutenant McEveney served two tours in Afghanistan, counseling marines and special forces operators in the country, and saw direct action several times. He served another tour in Iraq, then at the naval base in Bahrain. On his last tour of service in Iraq, he encountered a creature killing the locals in the Kurdish areas of Iraq. He attempted to exorcise the  monster, but failed; he only drove it off. It forever changed his path. When he finished his term of service in the navy, he was approached by Father Gabriel Amorth and Father Jeremy Davies, who brought him into the International Association of Exorcists and trained him to fight monsters…

Father Colin was brought into the Institute for External Affairs, on paper part of the Secretariat of State, but mostly used by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith — formerly the Inquisition. For the IEA, Father Mac has been hunting both dark creatures and conducting investigations of trouble inside the priesthood. He has been called “the James Bond of the Vatican” by some of his detractors for his secret duties, his flashy style, and his dispensation from obedience to the local dioceses.

He is based out of the Vatican, but travels frequently on his missions. He is highly educated, intelligent, and caring, but he has a few fatal flaws — he lacks humility, is vain, and is a bit showy for a priest. His Jesuitical allegiances make him unpopular with some in the clergy.

Agility d6   Strength d6   Vitality d8   Alertness d8   Intelligence d10   Willpower d10

Life Points 18   Initiative d6+d8   Endurance d8+d10   Resistance 2d8   Lifestyle d4 [d6 with expense account]

Assets: Contacts d6, Expense Account d4, Faith d6, Higher Education d4, Ordained d4

Complications: Addiction to alcohol d4,  Duty d8, Hunted d8, Insatiable Curiosity d4, Vain d4

Skills: Athletics d6, Covert d6, Discipline d6 (Morale d8, Reisistance d8), Drive d4, Guns d4, Influence d6, Knowledge d6 (Religion d10), Lore d6, Melee Combat d4, Perception d6, Performance d4, Science d2, Unarmed Combat d4

It’s been a long time, but back in those hazy, halcyon days of high school and college gaming, it wasn’t unusual for members of my gaming groups to trade turns game mastering — something I’ve lamented before is that I can’t seem to find people who can find the time (or more likely the wherewithal to put in the time) to run a game that I can play in. Back then, we didn’t just trade out GMing, we would swap into that role in the same campaign, allowing whomever was stepping out of the lead slot to play. We would often still play our character as a favored NPC — a frequent lament on other gaming blogs, the GMs favorite NPC that steal the players’ thunder. To us, it wasn’t a big deal; whoever had an adventure ready to go ran it.

The main issue for this communal campaign is similar to that of the television writing rooms of the 1970s and 1980s. Inevitably, no matter how well as character was written, there would be a few episodes where some big shot author or some one off writer would come in and the characters or the flavor of the show would morph to fit their story they wanted to tell. The game universe would lack a certain cohesion. The greater the difference in GM style, their world view, their desired direction of the stories, the more unworkable this style of campaign becomes.

But it can work. In the late ’80s, a friend of mine and I had been pretty much the only gamers we were acquainted with in the small town we were living. We gamed a lot — nearly every night, and sometimes day and night, if we weren’t working. We got to know each other’s style of play, the kind of characters we played, and the kind of game universe we were looking for. When you spend every day together, practically, for several year you start to get into synch with each other. One of our shared loved at the time was comic books. The late 80s was when comics saw an explosion in popularity, at the same time as RPGs (and now some of those geeks are making movies — good and bad — for themselves and their friends…) and we decided to do a superhero campaign that had a high level of verisimilitude (not realism..it’s superheroes, for cryin’ out loud!) similar to what we’d read in the Wild Cards! book series (based, funnily enough on the supers campaigns of a bunch of writers out here in Albuquerque), and the angsty Marvel universe.

We had a similar political and social outlook at the time. We had similar tastes in narrative style, although they were different enough to entertain the other person, and we had a good read on the probable punchlines for the stories being told. When we added a bunch of new gamers to the mix in Philadelphia, it was pretty stellar. We could not only co-GM the game, swapping who was storytelling from one night to the next, we got so good at it, we could swap in the middle of a session. Think of it as having a bunch of writers work on the same story: the basic outlines are there, and you simply add color.

Thinking back on it, I think the simplicity of the superhero tropes, in particular the idea that each session (or issue, if you will) had a specific challenge or two for the night, and that combat was up front and center often…combat and action sequences take time, and that meant that you had a relatively simple task, say stop the villain of the night and their cohort from attacking New York. It was the outcome of the characters actions that would — as with all RPGs — write the basic lines for the next issue. But like comics having a guest writer or artist, a guest or different GM doesn’t detract from the overall campaign because each issue tends to be relatively self-contained. Episodic.

In an RPG campaign that is similarly episodic, where each session or two is a specific story that might be tied together over time by the GMs, each is able to stand on it’s own. The problem is making certain that the players and game masters are on the same general sheet of paper for what the goals and flavor of the game is to be.

This is where communal world-building like we see in games like Primetime Adventures and Smallville come in handy. The group works out their characters, group relationships, and overall theme together. This allows for the metastory or story arc to be generally understood by all. For example, I recently pitched a Supernatural campaign to my players, and suggested to one who wished to GM a Call of Chthulu-style horror campaign that we could swap GM duties. We agreed that a modern day setting would be best and that the flavor would be a bit lighter than the usual investigate evil and go mad or die style of Lovecraftian horror CoC is known for. I, and others in the group, don’t much care for it. But a game that combined, say, a Night Stalker theme with monster hunter of Supernatural would work — where horror and humor coexist. It would be more episodic — a monster of the week series that would steadily weave in a basic plot idea (probably the usual stop Armageddon thing…I understand this is the general line of story for the Supernatural series, a war between Heaven and Hell, but I havent’ seen more than a few of the early episodes.)

It’s one of several workable frameworks for having multiple game masters.

Next time: Some characters from the Supernatural campaign that might work in one of your games as PCs or NPCs.

It’s a frequently asked and commented on issue: How big/small should a gaming group be? What is the ideal size for your group?

I’ll handle the last question first. It depends on the people in your group and what you are playing.

Now that I’ve sloughed off that question, let’s address the first one. I’ve found the best for me to run games for is between three and five players, but to be honest, it depends on the nature of the campaign, the personalities of the players, and the cohesion of the characters being played. “Solo” adventures — where there is a single player and GM often work well as one-offs or for occasional play. Two players and a GM menas there’s someone else to play off of and they have support in tough action sequences and it’s my preferred minimum size group. Four is better and allows for a lot more cross character banter, more varied plotlines and “B stories” (usually focusing on one or more of the character’s weaknesses — family troubles, some aspect of their character that either provides an impediment or is brought up by the main “A plot.”) Five is where the groups start to get unwieldy, depending on the nature of the campaign, and more than that you are almost guaranteed that someone is playing fifth wheel or isn’t getting enough play time. So for me the best size is four players: I find that the most manageable size for tracking what people are doing and giving them enough spotlight in a session.

Now the ideal number might change based on the nature of the campaign or game you are playing. Big parties are best suited by games dealing with mass action — it could be the quintessential dungeon crawl, or something where mass combat is common, say a World War II game, a post-apocalyptic setting like Twilight: 2000, or even Lord of the Rings-style fantasy. there’s something for everyone to do, the action is built into the plots — “We have to take this fuel dump if we’re to make it out of these wastelands and away from the zombies…” or “We need a crack squad of men to go behind enemy lines and free the 107th from Hydra!”

For settings like modern espionage, the big group is a detriment, depending on the nature of the adventure. It’s hard to be a secret agent with five other burly, buzzcut-wearing fellows in tow. For that lone spy on a mission, one-three players is best. With this number, they can have a backup that wont draw unnecessary attention. (Think Chuck — there’s the main guy, his support, and their muscle.) For larger groups, it’s best to follow a special action team model: you would have four to six guys that work together regularly. They all have specialties, but like most spec ops teams they would have plenty of overlap. they would frequently split into twos or threes to handle aspects of the mission. For example, SAT Dervish has to take a Russian mobster out of Ciudad del Este in Paraguay. They’ve got decent SIGINT support from the local station house over in Foz de Iguazu, Brazil (NPCs run by the GM), so that they have relatively good cell phone tracking and some intercept capability. One group is surveillance on the target, one is scouting the terrain that they intend to take the target (having decided a direct raid on the bad guy’s compound is too risky, they’re going to hit him in transit.) The last group is in charge of securing vehicles and weaponry, etc., and handling the exfiltration routes. Everyone’s got something to do, and it’s all important.

So the question really isn’t always what’s the best size (outside of what the GM can best keep track of…if you can’t manage the screen time of the players effectively, you’ve got too many people.) More effective is to think about what kind of campaign you are running, or conversely how many people you have so what kind of campaign would be most efficacious for the sized group.

I’ve often had plenty of time to research, plan, and set up for the games I game master. I’ve been doing it for three decades and the practice in getting ready, quickly, for a game has made me a lightning fast researcher and writer — which has been handy in my varied professions and in my doctoral studies. With a four-month old in the house, I’ve been surprised at how much of your useful time is eaten up with having to simply pay full attention to the kid — she needs picked up and carried around, she needs talked to and played with on the floor, she needs fed. Before you know it, ten hours have blown by and you’re exhausted…and you really haven’t done anything.

And it’s eating into my study, my professional writing, and my game prep time. So what to do? I tried to get others to GM — one decided to bail on the game he was going to run a year ago, another is just as busy and not as interested in doing it as he thought, and the new couple of gamers I tried to vet were flaky on their schedules and preparation. So once again, I’m running the games. And doing it on a lot less free time. So how to “wing it” and be successful?

First when GMing…never go full retard. That is to say, if you’re going to wing it, you still have to have something to improvise on. Like any good bit of jazz or rock, you need that three chord/basic 4-8 bar tune to work from.

Second: KISS — “Keep It Simple, Stupid.” You can improvise some of the other elements but keep the main plot simple — for example: My Hollow Earth Expedition game has been pretty straightforward. The first few episodes were an attempt to find a mellified man. They were sidetracked by Japanese agents and rival communist gangs in Shanghai. Then they get a line on the ancient monastic order/former rebels against the Qing that have the prize and they have to find the monastery in question. They find it and have to get the caskets of mellified men.

Time to throw in a twist to slow them down…I throw in a new storyline they have to address first: one of the monk/warriors had eaten some of the meelified man to heal their wounds and is infected with the evil spirit of the human confection. She is looking to wake the petrified army of teh first sovereign emperor…now they have to chase her to Xi’an and stop her from doing so, otherwise she’ll rule the universe from beyond the grave. This story is a simple capture the flag/stop the bad guy plot. Once done, they’ll be able to recover the meelified men and finish the initial adventure.

I have an upcoming Supernatural “pilot” — the characters will get together to stop a monster in Manhattan. Find it, kill it. Simple. I have been adding the bits to make the investigations more interesting, but it’s a one or two night and done deal.

Keep it simple. What’s the ending? What’s the goal or McGuffin? (The thing that motivates the story, whether important or not — like the case in the car trunk in Repo Man or Rosebud in Citizen Kane.) Who’s the bad guy and their major henchman? Where’s it happening?

This is my technique: What’s the mission? (Say, it’s stop a terrorist bomb plot.) Who’s the bad guy? (The new SPECTRE [or QUANTUM, if you must) led by Hans Yodelson. Henchman — big, bad ex-Spetnatz guy, Rostov. How do they get the lead? (An investigation into Russian mob gun running yielded it.) Beginning and ending done. Now the filler:

INTRO: give the intelligence. Action Sequence 1: Breaking into a bad guy office building. Clue 1: Reveal Yodelson’s invovlement. Action Sequence 2: Meeting Yodelson or surveilling to gain intelligence. Clue 2: Meeting with known terrorists. Action Sequence 3: Team discovered — car chase or firefight. Clue 3: If captured, the line of questioning tells there is an attack coming in a day in [pick place], or they will learn it from their pursuers. Action Sequence 4: Trying to follow terrorist to attack site. Clue 4: Something to get them in them to next action sequence. Action Sequence 5: fight in bomb location and stopping attack. Car chase to get bad guy. END: Kill/capture bad guys. If escape, next mission…

After that, I like to fill in the locations. Sometimes I actually do this first — “wouldn’t it be cool to have a base jumping sequence off that building?” or “a car chase on that alpine road would be cool.”

Basic plot: simple.

Third: Know your players. This is pretty important, period. It allows you to anticipate their most likely actions and not only plan for it. If you know the player/character has a tendency to do X, plan for it. Give them a problem/action sequence that is not their usual forte from time to time, but play to their strengths and weaknesses. If you know they love kids, put kids in danger every once in a while to direct them how you want them to go. If you know they always go after the bad guy like a guided missile, even when the baddie has to escape in that sequence, have the bad guy lead them into a trap.

Four: Steal. Steal your stories from movies, books (preferably ones they haven’t read/seen), from the news. For espionage games, I almost always get my inspiration from a story. Iraqis are busted helping Sinaloa cartel members in San Diego…go from there. Theres the bad guys. What were they moving? To where? How did you find out? Pick locations in San Diego or Tijuana…you’re 3/4rds of the way there.

Five: Keep notes. As you make up NPCs remember KISS: give them a hook — a look, skill, or a mannerism. A name. Jot it down for later — you never know when they might come in useful or the players will take to a character and want to contact them again.

Six: KISS — keep the maps simple, if you need them. Try to simply run on narrative, where you can. Use set pieces — standard office parks, high-rise buildings with the classic three corridors between two adjoining corridors on either side (you’ve been in this building…trust me.) Steel mills — operating or abandoned. Subways. Use set pieces from movies: “It’s like that classic James Bond bad guy set up — the two levels with staircases with no handrails and a central metal support for the steps, the ceiling’s oval and higher on one side, bridge over a small stream running through the middle of the room…” “It’s a loading crane like the one from the end of The Losers…

There’s plenty of ways to wing it, but the prep time on an adventure like the one above averages me 30 minute to two hours, depending on complexity of the plotline. Find something that catches you imagination, drop the basics in (villain and villain’s nefarious plan), add cool locations or chase/combat sequences. Shake. Run.

A quick perusal of this blog will quickly show that I’m a fan of the original Cortex system. While I liked the original Serentiy rules, I think the move from traits and complications from die shifts to actual dice ratings was a good idea. Since then, I’ve thought this one of the more elegant and flexible RPG mechanics I’ve seen. It has a few flaws for things like superheroes, but that’s not insurmountable.

The latest set of rules, “Cortex Plus”, was created for the Leverage and Smallville games and imported a lot of ideas from FATE to Cortex. Again, a perusal of the blog will show I’m not a fan of this move…however, I had thought that elements could be brought in to make the GMs job easier.

One place this shines is in the idea of “extras” — the bit players in the game from the gal running the grociery store you have a throw down in to the bad guys’ mooks. Mooks rules are particularly useful in settings like pulp games, Star Wars for stormtroopers, etc., or even for espionage games where you have to storm the volcano base and go through a $#!tsotrm of baddies to get to the real altercation with the privileged henchman and master villain.

Here’s an idea for how to create mooks/extras in your Cortex Classic (using cane sugar, not that corn syrup crap!) using some of the ideas from Cortex Plus (just 1 calorie…not Cortex enough):

Extras are given a general competence rating on how “bad ass” they are, from d4 to d12. It’s assumed there aren’t going to be extras with a d2, because beating up on an infant is uncool. d10 and higher should be reserved for big animals — lions, tigers, and bears or the like. The average bad guy should be d6. the slightly better than average bad guy, computer jockey you’ve hired, etc. d8. They then get a skill/descriptor die. This could be something like “Brick Shithouse” for that massive knuckle-dragger the bad guy has brought in to get you to sell your place to him — Say he has a d10 in Brick Shithouse. This is not overly competent on most things [d6], but when it comes to asskicking his descriptor counts it’s d6+d10. If he’s “Martial Arts Expert” — you can expect that his descriptor counts for Unarmed Combat and Melee Combat, and maybe covert (if he’s a ninja!)

Assume mooks have a 12 Life Points, but that when they take 6 points they’ve either unconscious or stunned enough they’re not a problem (unless the scene calls for it.) A mook like Brick Shithouse would have 16…because he’s built like a brick shithouse.

A few examples:

Fearsome Housecat: d4 for anything except being fearsome — then it’s 2d4 for intimidation and unarmed combat.

Fat Hacker Kid: d4 for anything but Hacking and Comic Book/Sci-fi Knowledge tests, then it’s d4+d10

Late-Night Security Guard: d6 and for perception tests 2d6.

Grizzly Bear: d12 plus d8 in killing your @$$.

Stormtrooper Nazi or the Star Wars kind: d6 and d6 in combat or chase related skills.

SPECTRE volcano base guards: d6 and d6 in combat and not much else.

 

Tower of the Archmage is hosting this month’s RPG Blog Carnival with the topic “Animals in RPGs”…so let’s jump in!

Animals have been companions to humans since time immemorial — from work animals to pets, people surround themselves with these creatures. They care for them, name them, and sometimes view them as part of the family. Who hasn’t gotten at least a bit misty when a family dog or cat dies? Before cars, horses weren’t just your transport, they were your companion — selling a prized horse just didn’t happen unless you fell on hard times. Farm animals might be less “familial” for people, but they were no les important — they were your food or your money made incarnate in noise and crap.

Yet, outside of fable-based games like Mouse Guard how often do animals play an important role in role playing games. Yeah, you ride your horse to the dungeon…then what? A horse doesn’t do so well in a 10×10′ room with other people and some nasty…in fact, the horse can, at that point, become a seriously dangerous liability. I’ve seen people buy a falcon in a D&D campaign, only to forget it’s even on the sheet; they don’t know how to use it as an item, so it gets forgotten with those climbing stakes until last minute.

If animals are so important in most peoples’ real lives, why do they disappear in the game world?

One reason is obvious: Who’s playing the dog? Is the dog an NPC? Is he the GM’s responsibility? Tracking the creature’s stats, actions, and location can be distracting from the main character, thinks Runeslinger. (Good guy, by the way; check out his blog!)

The trick, if the character is managing his animal companion, is not to think of the creature as separate from him, necessarily, but an extension, a familiar… I have a cat named Vishnu that knows my moods well – he knows when to try and comfort, he warns me when my infant daughter is waking up with a meow and a nose on the eyelid, he eats bugs… So make the critter an extension of your character.

We had a Serenity campaign where one of the characters had a shepherd mutt named Asshole. He picked him up as a pup in the Unification War, and the dog grew up through the combat. It warned the characters of intruders, of things not right with the ship (he heard strange noises and prodded the engineer awake), he attacked villains, he crapped all over the ship providing comic relief…he was useful. The players originally hated Asshole, then grew to love him. When he got injured by a thug, they made that person their sole focus of ire for an adventure. The dog provided story.

I had a ferret in an old DD campaign that would hunt rabbits and other things for the character. That’s how he got his meals when they needed meat. I would forget about him periodically, until he was killed by an arrow. He stopped the arrow, actually, and saved the character. He was useful. and I made the OIQ (orc in question) pay for it dearly. It provided motivation and story.

“I find I prefer the understanding that the animal companion is a specialized form of NPC and as such is not merely a tool for the player, but a being with whom the character has a close and very personal relationship…” opines Runeslinger. If the GM is running the animal, it can get lost in the shuffle of NPCs…hell, major NPCs have gotten lost in the shuffle when running a game. “Say…wasn’t Trapp Sommers with us?” Oops! But if the GM infuses the animal with its own character (I played Asshole as a bit stupid, lovable, and codependent on his owner, and had a ball with him…so to speak.)

If they have a purpose, they’re less likely to forget them. In the current Battlestar Galactica campaign, the characters are serving in Aegis, a light battlestar that is new off the line. During construction of the ship, a cat somehow got onboard and has been with her ever since. The crew named it Kevin and we learned from the previous commander that Kevin is considered not just the mascot of the ship, but her good luck charm. They had put Kevin off and within days suffered major engine failure. When Kevin was brought aboard once more from Scorpia yards, things just seemed to work themselves out…or so the crew says. Kevin is, in many ways, the living expression of the ship for the characters to become attached to. He’s fat, cantankerous, and shows up in places he shouldn’t be…but the characters have taken to him already.

Not every campaign requires a pet companion. The sword & sorcery genre is a good one for having animals that hunt for you, or that you ride from place to place. So are Victorian-period/Western games: the English are crazy for their dogs and often would drag them on holidays (or adventures) — how the hell did Tintin get out of half his scrapes? Dogs are useful for cowboys in herding or warning of danger. And they are good companions. In space-based campaigns, a dog or cat might not be the best addition. For one, the dander and loose fur get in the air filtration systems…it’s a mess! they may not always be appropriate, but they can add to the fun.

Time to take on one of the more popular game systems out there: Savage Worlds. Like FATE, SW has a lot of adherents who talk the system up incessantly, and being adverse to hype, I’ve found myself trying to avoid both the systems (especially after FATE started creeping into other systems like Cortex. “You’ll like it, it’s just like the system…but with all the good bits of FATE added!”) I finally decided to do a review after reading this piece on Savage Worlds.

I finally got a chance to play in a Cortex game a few months back and posted the character I’d made on the site (search Trapp Sommers — I’m too lazy to link today.) Here’s my first impressions: it’s quick and stripped down, and I tend to like that. That said, I hate the single die and “wild die” mechanic; I hate the exploding die mechanic (that’s where, if you roll a 6 in this case, you get to keep rerolling that die. Every 6 allows you to keep doing it…) I also find the attribute or skill test makes no sense if you have  better trait than skill. Why roll a d6 for my firearms skill, if my Agility is a d8? (And that is my response to the criticism of Cortex in the above linked blog post — you’re rolling just as many dice and often different types. Your criticism seems based on a cursory read of the rules. Now that I’ve defended my current favorite system like some pathetic fanboy…which I guess I am…onward!)

I suspect most of my disdain for the single die is that most of the systems I’ve played either have you roll your attribute+skill in some combo — either a die rating for each, or a die test onto which the combination of attribute+skill add. So take that as you will; it makes for a swift test resolution…until you hit combat. Then Pinnacle adds a deck of cards for initiative. I love the James Bond system as anyone who reads this blog knows. The d6 for initiative but d100 for everything else always felt clumsy; this is more so.

However, outside of those two complaints, the SW experience was fairly solid. As a generic system, it’s pretty good — you can easily build the characters you want, if you take “experience” at the creation point. there’s enough examples of things to do almost any genre on the fly. and it is certainly less math and rule-intensive than GURPS, lacks the die step mechanic of Cortex that some find difficult, and it’s not d20. And for $10 for the Explorer’s Edition, it’s worth a look.

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