I stumbled across a review of my 2016 DCC Halloween module The Sinister Sutures of the Sempstress yesterday. The reviewer gushed about this creepy nugget of mine, which I was glad to read because I’m fond of this little horrific trip into some bad neighborhood of the collective unconscious. Reviews fascinate me if only because I’m always intrigued by what people find behind my written words. All manner of inspirations and motifs can be read into another’s work–even if they’re not intentionally present. In this case, it sounds like I really need to play Silent Hill. I’ve long been tempted to pay a psychoanalyst to read my entire body of work and then make a diagnosis of my mental bugbears just to see what a professional thinks is at work in the haunted house that is my mind.
When upbraided for the filthiness of such works, Nashe excused himself by saying poverty forced him “to pen unedifying toys for gentlemen.”
From this wonderful and somehow pertinent essay on writing porn for money. I cannot escape the fact that there are many similarities between writing smut and writing RPG material.
My The One Ring campaign celebrated its 1st anniversary at the beginning of the month. We lost one player due to real life obligations, but the remaining five—which is more than enough for TOR, or so I’ve learned—remain invested in our ongoing tale of fell doings, massing orcs, and mysterious happenstances that suggest larger forces have a hand in the fellowship’s doings.
Our latest adventure took us back over the Misty Mountains to Rhovanion in an attempt to diffuse a war that was brewing between the Beornings and the Woodmen. In preparation for the return to the Wild, I pulled my reprint of the original 1937 edition of The Hobbit off my shelf and started reading through it. It stirred up the urge to do some painting of my backlog of Middle-earth miniatures, this time focusing on some of the characters from The Hobbit.
I broke open my Escape from Goblin Town starter set, which had been languishing largely because of my less than enthusiastic attitude towards the movies, and got to scrubbing down the plastic sprue of Thorin Oakenshield and Company. Once it dried, it was time to get Bilbo from Games Workshop grey to something suitable for the game table.
I have this to say about 25mm hobbits: they paint up quick! In an hour or so, I had Bilbo looking ready to leave Bag-End. A couple more hours were spent waiting for the base to dry, but then a fast drybrush and some static grass clumps and the burglar was ready to burgle something. Only thirteen more dwarves and a certain wandering wizard (or maybe two since I have a Radagast the Brown in that box too) and I’ll be well prepared for the next time I have an urge to take a stab at more faithfully recreating the events of the book than the movies did. All in all, I’m pretty chuffed how Bilbo turned out. I’ll never win a Golden Demon, but I’ve managed to develop painting chops sufficient enough that I’m not embarrassed to field one of my own paint job on the tabletop battlefield.
Any creative person knows of the struggle between Art and Commerce. One fulfills the soul, while the other pays the bills. If you’re lucky, you manage to merge the two into a seamless unity. Most of us, however, have to prioritize one above the other.
The Commerce side of things has overtaken my life for the past three months, leaving me little time for my Art projects. However, I have a break in the clouds for a few weeks and I’m relishing the chance to work on more personal things. “What does this mean?” you may rightfully ask.
Firstly, my snail mail thing (whose real title is only known to the chosen few who’ve sent me a SASE), which is running a month behind schedule, is getting the attention it deserves this week. No promises, but I hope to finish both parts of it by end of the month and start sending the SASE I have banked out by then. Also, if you’ve sent me personal correspondence and are waiting on a reply, I’ll be getting to that in the coming weeks and mailing out responses. I thank you for your patience.
If you’ve been putting off mailing me a SASE and want a copy of the first mailing I created, I’d send it to me much sooner rather than later. I can’t guarantee the inaugural mailing will be available once the next one is completed and my back stock of the first version is exhausted. The postal address to send your SASE is over there in the sidebar to the right.
Secondly, I’ve settled on a topic for Secret Antiquities #2 and will be starting preliminary writing and research on that in the near future. My goal is to have the second issue out for Gen Con at the latest, but I have to remember all the steps necessary to produce the damned thing. Yes, it’s been that long. Issue #2 will focus on occult locations and landmark in America and their role in the ongoing occult skirmish for the soul of the county. Ideas for converting those sites or their powers into more typical DCC RPG campaigns will be provided as well. I’m shooting for 10 to 12 sites described and it will likely be just the first installment in cataloguing and describing mystical, historical, and/or strategic locations of numinous importance.
More updates as things develop, and thanks for understanding that I enjoy things like electricity and food and have to make sacrifices that result in my personal Art being deferred.
There’s still some weeks and a whole major holiday between me and 2019, but I’ve already begun thinking about what to do in the coming year and what needs to change. I’m not making any major resolutions aside from getting caught up on some projects that have been proposed and/or announced and got sidetracked by DCC Lankhmar (Hello, The Four Phantasmagorias, announced maybe four years ago. One of the original playtesters was in pigtails then and is now driving).
Resolution-wise, and this ties into the shift in my own preferences these days when it comes to the gaming table, I intend to limit the amount of “genre” fiction I consume. I’ve read a lot of a fantasy over the past several years, largely to cover the Appendix N list for numerous work-related projects, and I need a detox for my brain. I suspect this overload of swords-and-sorcery is responsible for the sudden desire that hit me a few weeks ago to suddenly get into WWII wargaming. I’m suffering from
“imagination malnutrition” and need some vitamins that fantasy fiction isn’t providing.
My plan is to replace the genre literature I normally consume with more non-fiction, figuring that anything I read can serve as inspiration and that I once devoured non-fiction voraciously. I’m missing the pleasure of armchair scholarship that comes with a well-written non-fiction work about a subject I’m interested in and would like to exercise the old noggin a bit more.
The second change I’ve been anticipating is running a short campaign as a temporary breather from our regular The One Ring game. It will be one year of TOR at the end of January so a brief vacation from Middle-earth is in order. I believe I’ve settled on doing a six session GUMSHOE arc, since the last few sessions of TOR have been investigative-focused and both my players and I have enjoyed the social interaction, planning, and problem-solving that’s come out of it. GUMSHOE is something we’ve played briefly and it’s a system I want to get more of a handle on, if only because there’s some great material out there for it.
At the moment, I’m torn between three potential ideas and will likely present them to the players in January when we come back from our holiday break. One involves a Fall of Delta Green campaign that’s mashed up with Cthulhu City and a bit of The Prisoner thrown in for good measure. The second in a 1970s UFO-themed game with the PCs as Men in Black type investigators and trouble-shooters (perhaps even literally). The last is a more traditional Trail of Cthulhu game that skews into Hastur country.
There’s a third thing that’s been brewing over the last couple of days and it might be the off-the-books game I run on the road this year. I’m still doing some prep work, but if I remain excited about it through New Year’s, I think it has legs and could be a lot of fun. It’s definitely a change of pace for me in some ways, but pure Curtis in others. Stay tuned for more on that as it develops.
This is the first of a series I’m calling “Thousand Word Bombs.” Each is an essay of roughly 1000 words intended to be used as inspiration for RPG campaigns. Not all will be applicable for all RPG systems and settings, but I hope people will get inspiration if not actual “use as written” benefits from them.
They are a people without a homeland, yet whose territory spans the world. They move among us unnoticed, engaged in a mission we cannot understand. You see them, but do not comprehend what you are glimpsing. Endlessly roaming, never tarrying, they are the members of the Mass Transportation Migrant Tribe.
There are people in the world who live their entire lives within its mass transportation networks. Buses, subways, trains, and even ships, along with the terminals that connect them, are all these people know. You can tell them by their eyes, which seem to whirl like wheels when you look at them too long, by their poor complexions stemming from a diet of snack bar fare and fast food bought from express stands, and by their shabby clothes, washed in restroom sinks.
To most observers, the mass transportation migrant tribe members are identical to the destitute and often mentally unbalanced passengers not uncommon to public transportation—and being a member of one group doesn’t prohibit acceptance in another. The tribe members, however, are anything but mad, possessing the keen intelligence and cunning necessary to survive unnoticed and in constant motion.
The mass transportation migrant tribe is constantly moving, their travels only interrupted by brief pauses in train or bus terminals, or subway stations, where they await their next conveyance. They sleep in short stints in bus seats or on subway benches, awakening when the rhythm of motion is even slightly broken. Unemployed, yet somehow they never lack the modest means to buy cheap food or replacement clothes purchased from newsagents and tourist shops found throughout the world’s mass transit networks.
The tribe has its own cultural customs, meeting for brief moots in larger transportation hubs to trade news, arrange marriages, and conduct secret rites. The tribe has little in the way of authority figures, but the oldest and most experienced of the tribe’s members form ad hoc “elders’ councils” as necessary. When deaths occur, if the body isn’t removed by local authorities alerted by the mass transit operators, the tribe members inter their own in hidden crypts near subway stations, in shallow graves along railroad lines, or slipped over the railings of a ferry for a burial at sea.
Membership in the migrant tribe is either a result of birth or adoption. The tribe’s arranged marriages result in usually only a single offspring and the infant mortality rate is high among the migrants. Some become tribe members because circumstances have forced their hands. More than one runaway teen or person fleeing the consequences of their actions has been adopted by the tribe, initiated into the secret nation after demonstrating their ability to endure the constant movement required for the migrant life. Ethnicity, race, gender, or religion are meaningless among the tribe, and members can be of any background.
The few esoteric anthropologists who know of and have studied the mass transportation migrants hypothesize that they number less than 500 world-wide and, aside from the occasional moots noted above, seldom travel in numbers larger than three or four. Solitary tribe members, however, remain the norm.
There are a few possible origins and purposes for the mass transportation migrant tribe. These are just starting points for the game master to build upon or to inspire her:
- The tribe are the custodians of an ancient relic or other item of power that their ancestors swore to safeguard long ago. The tribe’s constant motion makes it difficult for those seeking the item to track it down, and the object changes ownership constantly in subtle exchanges that would make a three-card monte dealer jealous. Until the day comes when the rightful owner of the object makes themselves known, the tribe will remain in motion.
- The first tribe members were the victims of a powerful curse, one perhaps laid upon them by someone whose life or livelihood was impacted by mass transportation. The mother of the first person killed by a train might have been a witch, for example, or the owner of a once-profitable stagecoach line who lost his fortune when the railroad came through and paid a hoodoo man to lay a curse on the railroad workers. Over time, those suffering similar baleful enchantments have been initiated into the original tribe, passing their curse down either in truth or simply by tradition. The tribes’ moots are really opportunities to exchange information on how their curse(s) might be broken or to plot for revenge against those who set them in motion for perpetuity.
- The tribe members are from outside this time and place, perhaps having fallen through holes in dimensions (such as from alternate history Earths) or rifts in the time stream. Unable to integrate themselves into an alien culture, they are a people suffering from “future shock” and only the soothing rhythm of constant motion keeps them from going insane. As they move, they plot, plan, scheme, and hope to find a way home, taking in other misplaced peoples from other places and times.
- A friend of the PCs suddenly goes missing and all attempts to determine their whereabouts are unsuccessful. Several months later, one of the characters catches sight of the missing person standing on a subway platform as the PCs train passes by or sitting in the window seat of a bus rolling down the street. These sightings continue on and off for some time, with PCs always just missing their lost friend. Finally, after some effort, the party gets on the same bus or train as their friend and confronts them. What he/she reveals exposes them not only to the existence of the mass transportation migrant tribe, but the danger that causes their friend to become one of them.
- The party awakens with a start as the train they’re on lurches away from the station. The problem is that they each went to bed at home the night before and have no inkling as to how they got on the train. They can easily get off at the next station, but quickly learn that shadowy, almost demonic figures, are pursuing them. It is only when the PCs are on a form of mass transit that their shadowy pursuers’ sinister attacks cease. How do the PCs solve the mystery of what happened to them and what is chasing them when they’re limited solely to whatever assets they can access on public transportation routes?
The latest episode of the Spellburn podcast begins a deep delve into the rules and setting of the forthcoming DCC Lankhmar boxed set. If you’re curious about what awaits you within and what tweaks we came up with to create a setting that reflects the tales of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser using the Dungeon Crawl Classics RPG, this episode is for you. Future episodes will continue to explore this version of DCC RPG and what makes it different, yet entirely compatible, with the core game. Hie thee over the the Spellburn website for more information and downloadable audio.