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Showing posts with label horror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horror. Show all posts

Monday, February 1, 2021

The Old Horror Discourse

Because everything old is new again when it comes to RPG discourse, I recently saw The Dreaded Discourse™ around horror raise its head. This usually comes in two flavors:

1) Adventure games (especially D&D, but a wide net that potentially describes any game the commenter does not like) are bad at horror.

2) Modern horror is hard to do effectively.

The former argument is predicated on the fact that one needs specialized systems to invoke feelings of horror, while the latter argument is predicated on the fact that modern technology is too much of an equalizer in the struggle of humans vs. the unknown.

Both reflect exceedingly narrow viewpoints.

Issue #1: Adventure Games are Bad at Horror

I will freely admit: adventure games typically aren't built for horror, and aren't often my go-to horror games, but sometimes the lack of tools is liberating. Indie games tend to have very specialized procedures as to how characters interact with horror, and even Call of Cthulhu has a typical encounter loop (see the horror, roll SAN against the horror, fail and freak out or succeed and fight or retreat). But all you really need for horror is a sense of powerlessness, and it takes very little to reinforce that — a single powerful attack from the monster, or a single player attack that the monster no-sells, or even just something the players have never before seen, and suddenly everyone is scattering to regroup and figure out what the hell just happened. Ignore the advice on balanced encounters, and suddenly everything is survival horror.

But you don't even need to go that far. Just start describing a creepy environment, and most players get into the zone. I have absolutely made players fear something far weaker than they just by describing it in a frightening enough manner.

It's a sometimes food, and you don't want to just spring it on a group without some warning, but it's still worth trying at least once.

Issue #2: Modern Horror is Hard to do Effectively

I take much greater offense at this one. Sure, it can be hard to do horror when you're running a spreadsheet of ever-ascending numbers and magical powers, but the modern era is almost uniquely suited for horror tales.

As noted above, horror relies on a sense of powerlessness, even if that sense is transient or only arises from encountering something one has never seen before. (Even in the case of something like Unknown Armies, where the horror comes from responsibility, the "powerlessness" arises from unintended consequences and the sense of spiraling out of control. Powerlessness takes many forms.) The alienation of modern, Westernized society gives us this in spades.

I've heard the argument before that people avoid eras past 1980 because of ubiquitous computers and cell phones and automatic weapons, and I've heard the (admittedly rarer) argument that some avoid the last 100 years or even the 20th century altogether.

You have to watch The Thing, or more importantly, Aliens. Technology is your friend as a horror GM, because it offers a false sense of security. Players always like to assume that they can handle problems because of the tools at their disposal: they have guns, cars, and cell phones. Help is just a phone call away, and they can always get into a car and leave the scene if things get bad.

But remember what happens in Aliens. The marines assume their heavy ordinance will nullify the threat while the tactical sorts coordinate the offensive over cams and comms. But their guns do very little to chew through endless waves of xenomorphs, and all the cameras and communication systems do is let the others watch them die.

Modern horror parties spend most of their time apart, embroiled in research, or working dayjobs, or splitting up to divide tasks more effectively. They rarely sleep in the same building, let alone the same room. And they sometimes encounter things that guns cannot put down.

Use this to your advantage.

If your buddies are halfway across the city when you get attacked by the rampaging monster, all your panicked cell phone call will do is let them hear your last, desperate moments. If you manage to get cell phone video of it, amateur digital analysts on Reddit will pick it apart and tell the survivors how fake it looks. Even with the fruits of 10,000 years of human civilization, your toys will not save you.

Everyone dies alone.

Monday, June 11, 2018

Review: Frostbitten & Mutilated

I haven't posted in a while or done a review in even longer, but here we are.

Despite unabashedly enjoying Zak S.'s work, I'll freely admit: I didn't love this book.  Not at first, anyway.

It took a bit to infect me and implant its wriggling parasites under my skin.  So this review is as much a description of that process as it is an actual review of the book.

First things first: the core stuff.  Size A4, 144 pages.  Written and illustrated by Zak Smith, published by Lamentations of the Flame Princess.  There's little wasted space: it starts with a short introduction to both the book and the setting, and then launches into the bestiary, which is about 44% of the book and forms most of the world-building.  (If you just want cool monsters to throw into a winter-themed hexcrawl like the Kraal, which I think is partially this book's spiritual ancestor, it's here.)  The next 15% of the book is the "plot," such as it is: featuring a map, a couple of dungeon maps, and a timeline of events, this is the structure your PCs will roam if you're using the book as written.  (If you want a ready-to-go sandbox campaign, that's where you'll find it.)  The next 14% of the book is new rules: new classes (Amazon and Witch, both set up in the random advancement system style that so many OSR people like to use), new spells (for Witches or maybe Magic-Users), new substances (a magical metal and two chemicals), and new survival rules for use with the Bushcraft skill (because you're traveling across inhospitable territory).  The rest of the book is rounded out with an essay on running sandbox games and then a host of random tables to assist that process.

All this stuff is presented in a straightforward and concise manner, and once you get your bearings, the book is very spatially oriented, so you can find stuff without consulting the Table of Contents or the Index.  Even if I don't remember something offhand, I can flip to it in a couple of seconds, because it's exactly where it's supposed to be.

Basically, he took his own advice (as he usually does), and instead of giving us some boring historical litany like some Tolkien reject, you just get stuff like, "Ovv was the ruler of the forgotten civilization that built the Dim Fortress in aeons so remote even the sister-witches recall it only as you remember the texture of the first carpet you crawled. His kingdom was awful, and he was a despot—the kind of man who inspired gods to invent death by old age. But he got in under the wire. All his subjects and enemies long dead, his stronghold entombed, he sits still atop the Darkthrone, ten feet tall, clutching his sword, waiting for someone to be a bastard to."

That's all we get about the king, and that's all we need.  He's a jerk.  His stats bear this out.

But as noted, I didn't love it at first.  (Don't get me wrong: I still liked it, but would have called it the weakest of his books.)  Despite having some great ideas and solid world-building, this initially fell flat for two reasons:

1) Of all of his books, it feels the most like his blog.  While there are some great products that are basically just gussied-up blog posts — Veins of the Earth comes to mind, although it's so jam-packed with extra stuff that you don't notice you already read half of it — this one basically just felt like throwing down Euros to re-read posts I'd previously read for free, only with fewer typos and prettier art.  For that matter, a small portion of the material here previously appeared in another form in the Vornheim book.

2) It also feels like a setting I might create.  Vornheim feels 50% like some setting I'd create: a drunken orgy of ideas from Borges and Leiber and Peake, formed into a sprawling, decadent pulp city.  Twisted spires and political masterminds are totally my jam, but I'd probably never invent brilliant bits of color like homunculus assassins that hide in human bodies, or the fact that the world was created by medusae using the lithified remains of demons.  Maze of the Blue Medusa and Red & Pleasant Land are 100% things I'd never create — tone-wise, they fit right in, but a baroque dungeon of ancient, sad ladies and a vampire Wonderland are probably outside my wheelhouse, and that's totally rad.  On the other hand, a mythic Scandinavia of eternal snows where beasts and women run free, unfettered by the chains of Man, sounds like an idea I could have, and if I did have it, it would probably look similar: all idiosyncratic beasts and weird magic and berserkers like Maenads.

The first thing that changed my mind about the whole thing was Rushputin's comment that F&M has an excellent layout and is very usable (as described above).  I hadn't noticed at first because that's just assumed.  LotFP books in general and Zak S. books in particular are going to be very usable at the table and easy to find what you need.  That's just assumed at this point.

The second thing was that a friend of mine requested I run it, so I had to start working with the text to prepare the module.  And that's usually a chore, but this was super-easy.  I don't have a full hexcrawl of the entire map prepared yet, but I have some adventures around Rottingkroner prepared, and then some other stuff out in the wilds.  Random encounters can handle the rest until I have to stock hexes.

So, you ultimately get a highly-usable sandbox setting full of black metal Scandinavian goodness.  It deviates from the facts of Norse myth, instead drawing its inspiration from the feel of Norse myth, as well as fairy tales and pop culture.  And plus there are marauding Amazons that might try to kill or recruit you for intruding upon their lands.  It's a solid book, although it seems more restrained than his other work.  On the other hand, perhaps that makes it more accessible to readers from more traditional fantasy RPG backgrounds.  If you're looking for an Arctic/winter-themed sandbox setting, or you want to put some mythic flavor in your games, this is a solid pick.

(As for the weird things I want to inject directly into my veins, there are a couple of gems in here.  Of course, I love the bleak setting, the mythic feel of the animals, and the weird spells, but special mention goes to the owls.  Owls are weird in the Devoured Land, possibly in a way that refers back to Ken Hite's "The Owls' Service" from The Monolith from Beyond Space and Time.  If you are familiar with how snakes work in Vornheim, owls are anti-snakes.  Definitely worth a look.)

One last thing: We still haven't started the campaign.  We were supposed to start Friday, but one of our players had to cancel at the last minute.  Since I was ready to go, though, I did run a one shot set in the Devoured Land.  It was beyond stupid, but we had so much fun that it led me to write this post in the first place.  As with so many things, RPGs are meant to be played, and are probably only best measured in light of that activity.  After all, using the Devoured Land at the table is where Frostbitten & Mutilated truly shines.

I started the first party in square H7 on the Devoured Land map (pages 82-83).  Having taken the road from Rottingkroner and camped for the night, they set out first thing in the morning, traveling upriver along the River Slith.  A light snow is falling.  A couple of hours upriver, I roll the first random encounter, a lost traveler.  I consult one of my own random charts and determine she is a lost noblewoman.  That suggests her backstory: she was clearly traveling these lands to seek the Amazons in the hopes they could perform an embryoctony, and she was separated from the adventurers who escorted her out here.  She seems frightened and starved, and very wary of this party of three strange men before her.  They're not heading back to Rottingkroner as that would blow their profit margin, but she's welcome to travel with them as they explore this land.  Perhaps they can help her find her companions?  Another two hours, another random encounter, and they find a twisted tree, big enough to provide shelter.  Since they have another mouth to feed, the halfling decides to hunt; he finds nothing, but that takes up the rest of the day, so they make camp.  As the party begins to bed down and take watches, I roll another encounter and get fucking Blasphemer and his rat swarm.  I flip to his page, read, "Blasphemer may utter an Unholy Word (as the spell) once per week. So be careful out there," and then flip to the Holy Word spell and read that.  There is a short pause as I re-read it several times to ensure I'm reading it correctly.  It... instantly slays characters with fewer than 4 HD?  Just like that?  Based on my read of the spell, I rule it doesn't affect the wizard, but with everyone else dead the rat swarm finishes him off.  Total Party Kill #1.

Since that was very short, and I have more pregens, I give them a second chance.  The second party also starts in square H7, but this party of pregens has the Summon spell.  One player convinces the wizard she should cast it the night before they head into the Devoured Land, so that if she binds the demon long-term, they have a servant.  She agrees.  She rolls — the demon is more powerful than expected, and she blows the binding roll.  It possesses her.  The PCs go to bed.  She pretends to sleep.  On her watch, she massacres the rest of the party, then goes off into the wastes to do whatever permanently-incarnated demons do.  They never even leave the road.  Total Party Kill #2.

I've been laughing about this all weekend.  On the one hand, my players are aware there might be a small fortune in noblewoman's jewelry only a few miles upriver from the road in the Devoured Land; on the other hand, there's now a demon-possessed wizard somewhere out there.

A++, would run again.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

The Lesser Bot

The Lesser Bot is a world-building device waiting to happen, being a Twitter grimoire of randomly-generated seals for Goetic-style demons.  Some examples are listed below:

Friday, March 14, 2014

Down the Glen Tramp Little Men

I keep returning to this video because, despite being a silly Brad Neely comedy cartoon, it really groks the Fair Folk in a way others do not.  Enjoy!  (And as the name suggests, this is not even a little safe for work.  But what are you doing checking Blogger at work?)

Monday, January 20, 2014

Better Than Any Man, UA edition Part 3 and 4: Bring Out Your Dead

We ended our brief foray into early modern Unknown Armies this past Friday.  No more conversions, as the PCs didn't encounter anything noteworthy.

In Part 3 of our Better Than Any Man game, the PCs stumbled into the town of Thüngen — which Mr. Raggi placed under the control of a capricious group of bandits.  After a couple of desperate combats, the PCs fled Thüngen a little more battered and with their Epideromancer friend unconscious.

They flee the town, ignoring the burning homestead in the distance, and instead go in the complete opposite direction of Karlstadt and Würzburg, hoping to completely avoid the madness of this region and the advancing Swedish Army.  They come to a small pond and run into a fleeing woman, apparently running from the witch trials in Würzburg.  She joins them, and both she and Mannfried attempt to treat the fallen wizard's wounds.

They both fail.  Spectacularly.  The epideromancer Goffhilf catches fever and dysentery and dies within a couple of days.

Tragic.
The group continues to trek through the woods for a couple days, making a 90° at some menacing-looking earthen mounds, and stops as the wizard Goffhilf breathes his last.  They bury him, bed for the night, and awaken to find that they've been sleeping very near a plague-ridden corpse.

Within a day or so, they stumble back to Eger, and the PCs are whisked back to their home time, no doubt leaving a very confused, frightened, and hungry woman outside the town gates.

All told, the final session resulted in four deaths — one from fever and dysentery, and three more within a few days as several characters die of the plague.  One joins a nunnery, and the other continues his mercenary career, now 10,000 ducats richer.

At final count, out of a total of eight characters, six died — probably among my most deadly non-TPK games ever.

Monday, January 13, 2014

What I Like About Lamentations of the Flame Princess

James Raggi neatly summarized his stance on things in this post on Google+.  In the comments, he says, "Dungeons are HOSTILE TERRITORY full of DANGEROUS THINGS and YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THERE."

Boom.

Monday, December 23, 2013

The Cenobites of the Pleasure in Pain, the Hierophants of the Order of the Gash

Unsurprisingly, this was inspired by too many recent conversations about Hellraiser.  I decided I wanted a faction comparable to the Cenobites (also at The Other Wiki) in my D&D 4e game.  Here's what happened:

The Cenobites of the Pleasure in Pain, also known as the Hierophants of the Order of the Gash, is a shadar-kai cult of personality gathered around an entity known as the Architect of Pleasure and Pain, or alternately, the Engineer of Pleasure and Pain.  (Occasionally, this entity is called "Leviathan" for unknown reasons.)

The origins of this group are unknown.  Anyone's best guess is that the Cenobites (or Surgeons, as they are also known — they seem to be quite enamored of epithets) form from a confluence of three factors.  The first, is the shadar-kai themselves — when the shadar-kai first arrived in the Shadowfell, they found that they would fade away without strong emotions.  As such, they took to the extremes of living to maintain their own identities.

The second factor is a now-disbanded Sigil faction called the Society of Sensation.  Before they disbanded after the Faction War, the Sensates believed in experiencing all things to achieve enlightenment.  Despite their reputation as hedonists, they sought to experience all available experiences — positive and negative.  Although the Sensates as a group disbanded after the Lady of Pain's decree, some keep their traditions alive.  It is not precisely clear how a group of shadar-kai came across the beliefs of the Sensates, but the shadar-kai would easily take to their worldview of empirical thought and experiential enlightenment.

The third factor is the Architect itself.  This entity is apparently a somewhat potent baatezu, as those shadar-kai pledged to it are almost universally warlocks.  The Architect appears as a striking, sensual male humanoid with pale skin and leather clothing.  This figure appears to be constantly in a mixture of ecstasy and agony from the various hooks, pins, and piercings worked through its flesh.

Whatever their origins, the Cenobites typically keep to themselves in their own demiplane forged partially from the Shadowfell and partially from the Nine Hells.  However, they sometimes emerge to explore the boundaries of experience, and to proselytize their experiences to others.  While they consider themselves evangelists and explorers, most communities encountering the Cenobites consider them to be invaders and fiends of the worst sort, arcane torturers who typically leave their victims dead or worse.  The Marquis d'Ennui of Sorgtomb has a standing bounty on any Cenobites found in his domain.

The Cenobites usually travel between realms through the use of arcane puzzle boxes provided by the Architect.

Unbeknownst to the Cenobites, the Architect is actually an aspect of Belial, Lord of the Fourth and Lord of Pain and Sufferings.  Belial is using the Cenobites as a cult to further his goals, and also as a militant order in case he needs to counteract any plans of his scheming daughter, Fierna.  It is possible that Fierna controls a group similar to the Cenobites.

Playing a Cenobite

Cenobites are universally shadar-kai (Dragon 372, page 5) and almost always have the Sensate theme (Dragon 414).  They are usually of the warlock class (Player's Handbook), although some may not be directly bound to the Architect by contract.  Some Cenobites learn how to use a spiked chain; those who do take the Spiked Chain Training Feat (Dragon 372, page 11) and may take the associated Novice, Expert, and Specialist Feats as well.

Cenobites' warlock powers usually manifest as barbed chains appearing from their bodies or nearby shadows.

It is, of course, possible to play a former Cenobite (much like the typical repentant warlock character).  In such a case, the character is likely being hunted by his or her former comrades.

NPC shadar-kai appear, among other places, in Monster Manual and Monster Manual 2.

Enterprising DMs could use probably adapt the Cenobites for use in other editions of D&D.  The shadar-kai appear in the 3e Fiend Folio, while warlocks appear in Complete Arcane.  It is also possible that they could created using the rules for magic-users, clerics, elves, and suchlike in earlier editions.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Better Than Any Man, UA edition Part 2: Never Bring an Antlion to a Robot Fight

We actually got into Better Than Any Man this time.

So, last time, some mysterious guy told them that they needed to deliver a note to someone in the past, and if they talked to a guy named Willibald Schwartz...

Laaaaaaaaaaaadies.
...that he would lead them where they needed to go.

At this point, my players seem to adopt the same strategy whenever a dungeon crawl/James Raggi adventure occurs and proceed very cautiously.  They have enough food for a couple of days, so they avoid towns.  They don't talk to anybody.  They meet some Swedish soldiers on the road, but Goffhilf — himself Swedish — manages to avoid any nasty entanglements.

The PCs find the Mound without incident, and having been warned about the oil pit, don't light themselves on fire.  They approach Willibald cautiously and courteously (more or less), and walk away with a time travel ritual and a lead on several ducats' worth of ruby ant statue for their trouble.

The caves and insect shire on Goblin Hill similarly go hilariously, because they avoid random encounters and have a map of the complex.  Once they're sure they have everything they need, the PCs cast Journey to the Past (rebranded as Song of Ancient Days, a UA-style ritual requiring enough significant charges that Goffhilf went whole hog and sacrificed his hand for a major charge).

Once in the past, everyone learned that Maksymilian is a clockworker, because his "bodyguard" Aleksy is actually a gear-powered robot.

Pitting one robot against a bunch of ineffectual prehistorical cultists went something like this:


Upon their return to the present, they managed to kill the antlion guarding the ruby ant statue through a combination of robot punches and magic.  Goffhilf dealt the killing blow with a critical hit blast spell, reducing the giant antlion to so much hemolymph.

As with most of my dungeon crawls, massive player casualties were avoided through luck and skill.  Also noteworthy is a trend I've noticed in supernatural games: weird things don't give the PCs any trouble (giant antlions, crazed sorcerers, etc.), but mundane things give the PCs major headaches (soldiers, constables, etc.).  It was like that in Deadlands, too; we tangled with a Rattler in one of our first sessions, and were routinely clashing with The Devil Himself, but we were terrified of being arrested.

Where will the intrepid time-displaced 1611 occultists end up next time?  Stay tuned.

Friday, November 1, 2013

1610 Unknown Armies: Better Than Any Man

So, a week ago, I started to run Better Than Any Man using the Unknown Armies rules.

However, the PCs still haven't started playing Better Than Any Man, because hilarity happened.

In the first session of the campaign, the PCs went through The Ascension of the Magdalene.  For the unfamiliar, the adventure takes the PCs into Emperor Rudolf II's secret, artifact-filled Wunderkammer.  (As it's dual-statted for Unknown Armies and D&D 3.x, it's basically a dungeon crawl, albeit a history-filled, weird-ass dungeon crawl.)

The PCs were unsuccessful in the main thrust of the adventure, but they still managed to leave with a couple of occult artifacts, and 11,500 ducats (approximately 4,600 gp, or 5,750 gold crowns if you're a Warhammer fan) worth of stolen treasure.

Unfortunately, said treasure was stolen from the Emperor, and they fought a couple of guards who saw their faces and fled.

Fast forward to two weeks later, when they've fled Prague and are recuperating in Eger.  In the meantime, those who are not injured have been working, and they've sold one of the stolen tapestries to net 125 ducats (50 gp).  One of them catches sight of some soldiers and warns the others that Imperial soldiers are in town.  Before they can flee, however, one of the PCs is arrested by a contingent of soldiers headed by Jan Mydlář, Master Executioner of Bohemia.  (I know that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but know that Rudolf sent his chief executioner to apprehend the PCs for symbolic reasons.)

The other PCs take their cart and stolen guns and loop around, making it to the guard station before their friend Goffhilf is led inside.

The PCs open fire on the guards.

In the chaos, Jan Mydlář is wounded and withdraws, Goffhilf gets away, Ross gets away with the cart, but Nicholas is killed by a volley of musket fire.

It's over a week later, after the group has fled the city, that they find the mysterious stranger who sends them to 1631 Würzburg...

As such, no real update on Better Than Any Man, but the PCs have received exposition.  (They've been told to find Willibald Schwartz and complete a task for him.  So that's bound to be entertaining.)

Friday, October 25, 2013

Better Than Any Man: Unknown Armies edition

So, with any luck, tonight I'll be running Better Than Any Man adapted for Unknown Armies.  Last session, I ran the group through The Ascension of the Magdalene.  Now, this group of 1610 occultists will somehow find themselves in the midst of the madness surrounding Karlstadt.

Obviously, the setup will require a little tweaking — the player characters are currently in December 1610 Prague while BTAM takes place in October 1631 near Würzburg — and Unknown Armies's brand of cosmic horror isn't quite compatible with Lamentations of the Flame Princess's brand of cosmic horror.  ("You did it" versus "The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be.")  That having been said, though, there are enough parallels that I decided to make the jump.  (While some of the stuff on Goblin Hill isn't quite Unknown Armies, the whole Karlstadt-overtaken-by-sorcerers-and-Gustavus-Adolphus-isn't-happy-about-it plot is incredibly Unknown Armies.  "Sleeping Tiger" and all that.)

Assuming all goes according to plan, I'll probably post my conversion notes on here at some point.  To tide you over, have a pair of early modern Icelandic necropants, courtesy of that guy at Warpstone Pile.

It will also probably be a good opportunity for a review for Better Than Any Man, because I've been lax with my LotFP reviews lately.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Potion Miscibility in Rockulon Prime

I'm going to go ahead and say that nobody should watch this.  Wizards get sick and things get nasty.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Children of the Night

Deal with it.
(Spoilers for The Giovanni Chronicles ahead.  You have been warned.)

Dig this: I'm back where I started.  This past Saturday, I had the pleasure of stepping back into Vampire: the Masquerade (although as a player this time).  Blake over at Mythology started running The Giovanni Chronicles: The Last Supper (and presumably plans to run the whole saga).

A bit of back story: I own these books.  I haven't read them (as I wasn't planning on running them, I had no reason to look them over, particularly since I always heard someone or other would be keen on running them instead), but I bought them off E. M. Lamb from Malleus Blogstrorum aeons ago.  I've heard good things, but I never had the chance to run or play.

So here we are.

I have the distinction of playing one Sædís Ragnarsdóttir, recently Embraced into Clan Brujah:

Picture Elle Driver, but younger and angrier.  If that's even possible.
She kicks ass.  Earlier in the session, she had to leave her men behind; she told them to memorize the face of the man with whom she was traveling, and if she did not return, they were to kill that man.  If they didn't, she would claw her way from her grave and find them.

They've seen her rage before, so they had no doubt.

The funny part is that she was mortal then, and I wasn't saying that because I was playing Vampire — I said it because she's actually a pagan, her men know this, and it seemed like an effective threat.  (She has one eye out of emulation of old Odin, after all.)

So...now she's a vampire (or as she's been calling it, a draugr).  That will be a funny story when she finds her crew again.

A couple of notes: Blake's running Vampire: the Masquerade 20th Anniversary Edition.  It's roughly the same as Revised Edition (3e) Vampire, but has a couple of changes ported from new World of Darkness (all physical Disciplines cost Vitae, although in keeping with oWoD sensibilities, each one has a passive effect that works without blood expenditure) and Orpheus (no Dodge skill, just the Athletics talent).  I'm sure I'll pick it up in the not-too-distant future.

On the module itself: We're not terribly far into it because there's a large amount of exposition (I'm pretty sure we're past the bulk of it now, but it's a thing).  The group starts as mortals, goes through a shovelhead Embrace at the hands of Clan Giovanni's conspirators, get snatched by Hardestadt, and are given a reprieve from Final Death due to the intervention of Durga Syn.

The current mission is to train as Cainites until their Giovanni conspirator sires, no doubt determining the group to be alive, decide to Summon the fledgling coterie to the conspiracy's current location.  The coterie will then act as spies from within, informing Hardestadt and his allies of Clan Giovanni's activities.

It was certainly fun.  The module, at least in the early stages (and since there are four books of it, likely throughout) features the favored enemy of the OSR, railroading.  However, I found that this allows a certain amount of drama to come out — as players, we all knew we weren't going to survive the night, so we might as well make the most of it.  (Sædís tried to fight to the vampires, as did her newfound bro, Sir Jacques, to no avail).

Additionally, as I've said before, I don't necessarily mind a poverty of options so long as the cage isn't obvious — our doom was heavily telegraphed, but we theoretically have a choice in cooperating with Hardestadt (the fact that we're going to be Summoned by our sires is probably non-negiotiable, but we can totally betray Hardestadt if we so choose).

And now: quotes.

"Occam's Razor says the easiest solution is to stab them with a razor."

"Tell me, what were you told of your host?"
"He's...an Italian."
"Yes...?"
"They're...not Jews.  Are they?"

"Looking at him, the best way I can describe this, he is so hideous it makes you angry."

"Surrender now and I will spare you.  If you surrender."
"We just woke up, you assholes!"

"Durga Syn looks like a wrinkly scrotum with The Big Book of British Smiles?  Thanks, Blake.  You ruined Vampire for me."

Addendum: Blake wrote up the session over at his blog.  So there's that.

Also, while I talked about my character, I said nothing about the others!  In addition to Sædís the Brujah, we had:

Baron Wolfgang von Schlusselheim, scourge of Bavaria, Embraced into Clan Gangrel.  Played by Nicole.  He's a baron, but there's a strong implication that he stole his title.
Bartolomeo Montalban, Papal Agent, Embraced into Clan Tremere.  Played by TS.  At least I think she was playing Bartolomeo.  As befits a prospective Tremere, the fellow didn't talk much.
Father Niklas von Ausburg, Church Historian, Embraced into Clan Nosferatu.  Played by E. M. Lamb.  A doddering old priest.
Horace Pemperidge, Travelling Minstrel, Embraced into Clan Malkavian.  Played by FS.  A fabulous bard.
Paola di Toscana, Brothel Matron, Embraced into Clan Lasombra.  Played by Tini.  Accompanied by three of her working girls and probably the most social among us.
Sir Jacques Lapideau, Knight of Flowers, Embraced into Clan Toreador.  Played by frankietuesday3.  A French anointed knight, he and Sædís are bros for unlife.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

All's Quiet on the Western Front

Real life has overtaken blogging, so consequentially, you'll likely be receiving mostly Deadlands replays for a little bit.

I do have something to share with you, though.  I recently discovered a game produced by Mongoose Publishing called Infernum; my impression is that it's out-of-print, although one can still find the game secondhand.  Additionally, Mongoose has pdfs on DriveThruRPG/RPGNow, and the core book is apparently free-to-download.  It's based on the whole 3.x/OGL thing, and so uses a variation of the D&D 3e ruleset.

The Buzz: This is a sandbox campaign set in the Judeo-Christian Hell (heavily influenced by the Divine Comedy, among other sources).  Lucifer is missing, and the demonic Houses of Hell have settled into an uneasy truce.  Of course, with a truce so uneasy, anything could tip the balance and cause the quiet sniping and cold war to burn into a full-blown war among factions...

Adding to this mess is the fact that angels still occasionally fall into Hell, and humans are there, too.  (How do humans have any power at all in the hierarchy of Hell?  Demons are bound by covenants and human magic.  Humans aren't.  How do you get rid of a sorcerer binding you into service?  Hire another human to stab him in the back.)  In fact, there's an entire order of human paladins called the Knights of the Harrowing; when their citadel fell into Hell during the Crusades, they said, "Well, looks like we have a mission from God," and decided to wage war on Hell itself.

I've only had the chance to skim the first volume, but it gives an overview of Hell as well as three race-as-class options: demons (the default choice), humans, and fallen angels.  Since Hell is fueled by suffering and exists outside of rational time, there's neat stuff, like weird magic and Hell-crafted engines of destruction (mundane guns and such fall into Hell, too).  Later volumes introduce variant rules and such, as they often do — I'm told one of the books features pregenerated characters, and one of those characters is a human marine whose base fell into Hell; he carries a shotgun and a chainsaw.

So far, the concept is pretty neat.  Turning Hell into a sandbox-style hexcrawl would be a huge undertaking (the landscape is pretty big), but certainly not beyond a dedicated GM's scope.  Additionally, while the aspect of levels might be a turn-off to some, the fact that it's OGL means that a whole bunch of resources are out there for GMs to use (and it could be easily used for a FLAILSNAILS-style campaign, too).

Anyway, I recommend checking it out, especially because the first volume is still free.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Sharpened Hooks: The Divine Order of the Mediatrix

The Roman Catholic Church has been accused of corruption and mired in scandal throughout the centuries, but all these pale in comparison to the bloody work Mother Church must perform.  Were the governments of the world to learn of the state of affairs, the controversy would likely destroy the Church.

The unfortunate side effect is that the world would probably die with it.

Hernán Cortés declared himself victorious over the Aztec Empire on August 13, 1521, when he and Xicotencatl the Younger took Tenochtitlan.

Had he known how wrong he was, he likely would have left the Aztecs to their bloody work.

The few scholars in the know differ about what happened.  Most agree that the Aztecs encountered ancient deities and accidentally awoke them, but managed to find a way to placate them with blood sacrifice.  Some theories claim that the conflict between these deities shaped the New World — as the Mexicas saw a vision of an eagle eating a snake atop a cactus, a symbolic battle for the identity of the young United States centered around whether a serpent or eagle should be the national animal.  One theory tells a convoluted tale of cocaine mummies and a pre-Colombian trade route between Egypt and Central America, claiming that the mummified corpses of the deities Horus and Set were conveyed to the New World, and their spirits forced nightly to do battle with Apophis.  (Some wags, reading too many Conan the Barbarian tales, claim Set is the snake-deity.)

Whatever the case, the original Mexica people awoke something great and terrible, something which had to be placated with bloody sacrifices.  When Cortés destroyed the Aztec Empire, he destroyed the last members of a cult dedicated to keeping these deities asleep (or providing the energy they need to keep the world turning, depending upon the source).

Having uncovered the secret, Cortés and his men were forced to take up the duties of the priesthood.  What had begun as a tale of God, gold, and glory ended as a horror story.  Fearing for his soul, he contacted the Catholic Church.

Based on this information, a secret cult arose within the Church.  Dedicated to keeping the dread gods asleep and keeping their existence secret, this group of monks started the terrible work of providing new sacrifices.  The cult likely took the name of the Divine Order of the Mediatrix in the 17th century, attempting to forge a symbolic connection with the grace of the Virgin Mary as well as the comparatively recent (and culturally native) Our Lady of Guadalupe and the pagan goddess Tonantzin that preceded her.

The Divine Order of the Mediatrix is a small order of monks with a special dispensation from the Holy See to perform the sacrifices necessary to keep the world turning, and to hide all evidence of this conspiracy.  Traditionally, the Pope is unaware of the Order of the Mediatrix, although some certainly are.  Typically, it is the quiet ranks of scholars, cardinals, and administrative personnel that organize and maintain the secret.

As for the order's methods, they are just as bloody as one might imagine.  Numbers vary, but one might estimate roughly 40 serial killers active at any given time worldwide.  At least one is probably a Mediatrician.  It is also likely that a sizable portion of the missing persons reported each year (roughly a million, according to some reports) are similarly victims of the Order of the Mediatrix.

As for using this in a game, an early modern game might feature the Divine Order of the Mediatrix as it struggles to survive and perform its grim work.  A modern-day game might feature the Mediatricians as the current conspiracy of killers for Christ, struggling to maintain their faith amidst modern technology and raw, cosmic horror.

In addition to the order of monks from which the Divine Order of the Mediatrix derives its name, the Mediatricians are aided by a cadre of exorcist-priests, therapists, and lay people who are necessary to keep the organization running.

(You can probably blame this all on my recent viewing of The Cabin in the Woods, along with my recent reading of The God That Crawls.  I'm going to say that there's probably a fair share of Delta Green, too.)

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Review: The Magnificent Joop van Ooms

I can accept the lack of an early modern supplement with The God That Crawls because I got The Magnificent Joop van Ooms.

This is acceptable.

The Magnificent Joop van Ooms continues a recent Raggi trend of setting adventures in real-world early modern locales.  In this case, it's Amsterdam in 1615.  The Dutch are a major power and Amsterdam is their cultural capitol, featuring notable financial, political, and technological achievements.

As Raggi writes, "The city competes with London not just as a center of commerce, culture, power, and influence, but for the bragging rights to be the de facto 'Capital of the World'—in European eyes at least."

A few pages are devoted to encounters in Amsterdam and trading in Amsterdam's black market.  The rest of the book details the man himself, Joop van Ooms.

Joop van Ooms is an iconoclast in the vein of Wilmot, de Sade, or Wilde, with shades of fictional variants such as Henry Fool or Brian Slade.  Ooms is a celebrity, artist, and Renaissance man in Amsterdam, and he is no stranger to controversy.  He is a whirlwind of scandal, and a proponent of the relatively shocking idea that everybody should just get along.  He is mildly tolerated because he routinely donates his money to various causes — and if he were killed, many of his critics' revenue streams would dry up.

He travels with two attendants: a hulking, African slave he jokingly named "Gilles de Rais," and Ooms' fabulous attendant whom he calls "Henry VIII" (because he's quite the ladykiller, you understand).  They cause as much trouble amongst the high society of Amsterdam as one would expect, and are always the center of attention.

As one might expect, Ooms is more than he seems, and holds a great many secrets, some of which are potent indeed.  He's hardly the sort of man a group of adventurers and scalawags would be inclined to meet...but then again, a great many things are said about Ooms, and he is quite the intriguing character.

Despite not being a traditional adventure, I always appreciated books such as this from my days in World of Darkness and Unknown Armies.  No dungeon, no plot, no setup, just an interesting NPC to insert into ones' own game.  If you're looking for a typical D&D adventure or dungeon crawl, you're probably out of luck (although you can always rob his house if you want a classic site-based adventure), but if you want a brief history of 17th century Amsterdam or a fascinating NPC with secrets and adventure hooks galore, then look no further.

Review: The God That Crawls

Imagine an Indiana Jones movie set in the 17th century, and with Indiana Jones as a total murderhobo rather than a misguided murderhobo for science.

That's basically The God That Crawls.

The book says it all:
A murdering cult.
A religious order dedicated to protecting sacred history.
An ancient catacomb full of danger and reward.
The God that Crawls
This features several things that are Raggi's trademark, including an historical setting (the book assumes 17th century Britain and includes various references to the Catholic church) and a moral component (most of Raggi's modules assume that the adventurers are greedy bastards who will "dig too deep" and receive their comeuppance in the form of a cursed treasure or terrible monster).  Adventurers aren't precisely punished for being greedy, but at the same time, they totally are (although, as per usual, adventurers are also rewarded for being clever).

Most dungeons assume no time limit, other than more time in the dungeon creates more risk (in the form of random encounters).  This dungeon, on the other hand, mostly lacks random encounters — save one, in the form of the titular God.  While this can be handled as a random encounter, the Referee may also treat it as another participant in the adventure, keeping track of its movement and so forth to make the result less arbitrary.  The Referee also has the option of treating the thing as a random encounter for easier bookkeeping.

Mostly, though, the God ensures that smart parties try to balance getting rich with not making noise, which is always a tough consideration.

As for the dungeon itself, it is a series of catacombs underneath an otherwise unremarkable church.  Adventuring-types in the village or church might hear rumors about the catacombs and go investigating.

All-in-all, The God That Crawls is an excellent site-based adventure and a decent horror module.  There is a lot of risk, but a lot of reward — it's totally worth it to enter this dungeon, although odds are that the cost will be quite high (like The Grinding Gear or Death Frost Doom).  Additionally, the dungeon requires a little planning; like The Grinding Gear, it pays to be prepared when tackling this dungeon, as resource management is quite important.

In terms of graphic design, layout and artwork is delightful, as always.

I do have a couple of notes about the module.  The magical axle really bumps against the horror-versus-whimsy line that Raggi likes to flaunt.  I rather appreciate the strange device, but I understand why some (which is to say, many) would consider it a bit silly.

More importantly, I received this through the Indiegogo campaign and the initially-promised early modern supplement was not ready.  This is hardly an issue — Mr. Raggi has indicated it will be released as its own supplement, and sent to Indiegogo backers — but it's still a fact of life.

Overall, I'm pleased with it.  It's an easy locale to drop in your own hexcrawl (although if you're using a fantasy setting, there needs to be a little conversion from early modern Britain), and provides a challenging adventure site.  As with most Raggi modules, it's meant for low-level characters.

Game Masters with a fondness for kitbashing may also want to translate the system to the horror system of their choice — the church could easily appear in World of Darkness or Call of Cthulhu.

Most Raggi modules have some sort of secret hook that shouldn't be spoiled.  I try to avoid doing this, but the secret is part of the module's design, so if you plan on playing it, you should probably leave now.

















...okay.  The deal is this: this church conceals several holy secrets.  One is St. Augustine of Canterbury, whose mutant corpus forms the shoggoth-like God That Crawls.  Cursed by ancient pagan magics, he hunts down here eternally.  The other secret is that this place has been used as a dumping ground for old holy relics and strange pagan artifacts, as well as heaps of coin.  There's a lot of wealth down in the dungeon, but the God attempts to devour anyone who arrives in the catacombs.

As for the church, they're in on it, but they're running a grand deception.  The community pretends to be a decent, God-fearing lot, which is just a front for the cult that worships the God That Crawls, which is just a front for the decent, God-fearing lot which realizes it must protect the secret of the God That Crawls on behalf of the Catholic church.  They will subtly suggest that interlopers investigate the dungeon, but they will not force them to do so unless they have uncovered uncomfortable secrets.  However, they will maroon anyone who descends into the dungeon, presuming that the God That Crawls will devour them and preserve the secret.

They will experience great remorse for doing so, however.

As with many Raggi modules, this is a lot of information which may never be learned, but it adds to the atmosphere of the scenario and helps keep the Referee focused.

As noted above, the crux of this adventure involves trying to grab treasure and escape before attracting the attention of the God That Crawls, as adventurers are unlikely to be able to face the thing directly.  Moving quietly is pretty important if one wishes to survive, and breaking into treasure caches is hardly quiet.

If you want a thrilling chase through darkened dungeons, or a good horror-themed dungeon crawl, this is probably one to buy.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Review: Lamentations of the Flame Princess

James Raggi's Lamentations of the Flame Princess: Weird Fantasy Role-Playing.

Some of this ground has been covered elsewhere.  I wrote a review of D&D (and an addendum), and as a variation of a game containing subterranean lairs and reptilian monsters, Lamentations of the Flame Princess: Weird Fantasy Role-Playing covers a lot of the same territory.

Additionally, noisms already covered my feelings on the game.  It's simple, it's intuitive, it's fast, it's basically D&D.  Boom.

The Grindhouse Edition (I haven't seen the original and the hardcover has not yet been released) is a box set of three books, a pile of character sheets, and a set of tiny dice; basically everything one needs to play the game.  The three books are Rules and Magic, Tutorial, and Referee.

Rules and Magic details what one would expect: the rules of the game (patterned after B/X D&D, among other things), character classes, spell lists, et cetera.

Tutorial is a classic solo game.  The first part depicts a similar setup to Death Love Doom — you're a lone adventurer who hears about an abandoned house, and you decide to loot it.  This part is a fairly linear setup with few choices; there are a couple of rolls to get new players used to the system, but it culminates in running into a friendly Cleric, fighting an evil sorcerer, and getting bitten by a zombie.  The second part of the adventure, which features the more standard choose-your-own-adventure with dice rolls format of solo adventures, depicts your character's return to the house to find a cure for his zombie-induced illness.  I will admit, it's fairly nerve-wracking — time is running out, and even if you've found a solution, you have no way of knowing whether it's the correct one until the time comes.

(Interested parties will be happy to note that Heinz Becker survived his foray into the cellar and even managed to make a little profit in the process.)

Referee contains rules and advice for running games in the vein of the weird tale.  The watchword of the game is mystery; Mr. Raggi includes no bestiary, because monsters should be unique, although he describes several monsters and suggests how they might be integrated into a game.  The book ends with some conversion notes regarding other retroclones; an adventure, "A Stranger Storm;" and a couple of charts for DMs.

As written, the game is fairly compatible with other retroclones, and only has one notable quirk which requires translation: it uses a silver standard rather than a gold standard (Weird Fantasy Role-Playing's implied setting is early modern, which led Mr. Raggi to use the silver-rather-than-gold standard for XP and treasure).  Of course, there are guidelines in Referee.

As noisms noted, the game is fairly simple.  Some rolls (like reaction rolls) have special rules, but most actions fall under skills or combat.  Skills keep the standard "x in 6" chance mechanic, except that this is how they're defined.  Every person starts with a 1 in 6 chance of using a skill (demihumans may have different chances, of course), with bonuses or penalties depending on the situation (so the classic 1 in 6 chance of detecting secret doors or 1 in 6 chance of opening stuck doors are conserved).  Specialists (the rough Thief analogue; Specialists, however, might also represent sages or scientists, as well as the typical rogue) can spend skill points to increase these chances.  In addition to typical skills such as Climb and Search, there are also specialized skills such as Architecture and Bushcraft which can represent specialized fields of study.

Combat is familiar to 3e fans — roll 1d20, add modifiers, and compare against the opponent's Armor Class.  Simple.

The other notable tidbit is how the classes are specialized, and don't really multiclass or move outside their roles — Fighters hit things, Specialists know things, Clerics are religious magic-types, Magic-Users are arcane magic-types, Elves can fight and cast arcane magic, Dwarves can fight and take heaps of punishment, and Halflings have excellent saves.

Everything else regarding the game lies in the implied setting.  As noted, the artwork suggests that the world is early modern, right in the thick of exploration and the early stages of globalization.  Modules and supplements continue this trend (Weird New World takes place in an implicit fantasy Canada with totally-not-Inuits; Death Love Doom explicitly takes place in 1625 London undergoing the transition from King "My-Name-Is-on-a-Bible" James to King "Decapitated-by-Puritans" Charles; and The God that Crawls will supposedly include more early modern goodness, like rules for converting demihuman classes to human classes and rules for firearms).  The domain level has been removed; instead, there are rules for purchasing real estate and making investments, so characters with the wealth can establish "domain level play" whenever they can afford it.  Magic-Users have spells with odd effects, and the most famous LotFP spell at this point is likely Summon, which generates a unique creature when it is used.

(Additionally, though, there are familiar spells such as Invisibility, which works by scaring the light away from the target, and eldritch magics such as Strange Waters, which summons a group of magic fish which may be eaten for magical power.)

The game is fairly solid overall.  The biggest complaint typically centers around the lack of a bestiary, although DMs wanting to use this as straightforward D&D can do so with any other old school bestiary; they're basically all compatible.

The combination of simplicity and weird/horror/fantasy dings everything I like about a game.  If either of those points seems interesting, you should take a look; you can download free rules at the website.

The final point — something the free rules won't show you — is the art.  Lamentations products always have beautiful artwork, and the Grindhouse Edition box set is no exception.  As befits the implied setting, some of the artwork is gritty and graphic (there are some savage wounds, a monstrous birth, and a medusa with a young paramour or two), but it's all fairly gorgeous.  The center of the book bears color prints, while the rest is in black-and-white.  As with most Lamentations products, this is two-column, A5.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Down the Glen Tramp Little Men

The alternate title for this was "Fifty Shades of...Followers," but I decided to nab a line from a classic poem instead.

Ahem.  So, this past Monday, (that's June 4 if you're reading this in the grimdark future), I hit fifty followers.  (Ironically, as with my first follower, my fiftieth follower is someone I know personally in my Monkeysphere.)

Incidentally, I was at 271 posts at the time.  So I guess that's something, too.

At any rate, to celebrate, here are fifty things you can find at the local Goblin Market, Swap Meet, or other genre-specific eldritch market.

Fifty Strange Objects

1. Several sheets of flash paper containing several examples of Victorian erotic art.  If the pages are burned together and the smoke is inhaled, the character will get a vision of the location of a hidden sorcerer's crypt containing untold riches and rituals.

2. A thumb drive containing a .mpeg file depicting an elementary school play.  It appears to be a play about woodland animals learning to live in harmony, but during the final musical number, a soloist steps forward and begins reciting a monologue from The King in Yellow.  Screaming starts just before the media player crashes.

3. The Box.

4. Nineteen left socks.

5. A mad sorcerer's grimoire written on a single, continuous piece of tanned hide.  Analysis suggests it's human skin.

6. A Glock 17 that oozes human tears whenever it is fired.

7. A singer's voice in a wooden box.

8. The memory of a comical loss of virginity.

9. A box containing several years' worth of the Fortean Times.  Someone has written "True" or "False" next to each article heading.

10. A clay figurine which is supposedly some sort of homunculus, although the activation commands are forgotten.  In truth, it is merely a prison for the soul of a dead magus.  Note that both things may be true — if the proper syllables are spoken, it may be forced to animate and obey the petitioner.

11. A vicious knifing.

12. An aluminum water bottle of purple liquid.  This liquid has all the typical effects of LSD, save that the user can also see ghosts.

13. The memory of a mundane family vacation to the beach.

14. A hamburger in sealed lucite.  The plaque indicates that it was purchased from McDonald's on December 12, 1948, making it one of the first hamburgers sold at the renovated San Bernardino location.

15. Bigfoot's Social Security card.

16. Something off this Goblin Market table.

17. A snowglobe, depicting a small town in the Midwest and evidently originating from their chamber of commerce.  When the snowglobe is shaken, it rains (or snows) in the actual town.

18. A silverware set made by Paul Revere.  Old stains that look like strange rust cover some of the pieces.  If any old DNA can be extracted, it is revealed to be wolf blood.

19. A black garbage bag full of fingernail clippings.

20. A copy of the famous August 1991 issue of Vanity Fair featuring a nude, pregnant Demi Moore on the cover.  If examined closely, one can see the vague outline of an inhuman shape in her pregnant belly.

21. A fleeting memory of the color jale.

22. The Axe with the Edge of the Sun.

23. A ball-peen hammer.  Any slot machine touched with this ball-peen hammer will release its jackpot.

24. A dog's corpse, prepared with taxidermy.  Any cavities in the body are filled with fortune cookie fortunes.

25. A jar of baby teeth.

26. A brown glass eye.  If placed in an empty eye socket, it renders the user completely immune to injuries sustained from car accidents, even if she is thrown clear of the vehicle.

27. A set of polyhedral dice made of meteoric iron.

28. A dirty speculum.  If touched to a wooden object, an image of the woodwright will appear in the user's head, along with an impression of the person's name.  If the object is mass produced, the user will get an impression of everybody involved in its creation.

29. An unlabeled VHS tape.  The tape appears to be an amateur documentary on a man named "Phil" as he goes through his errands.  Any person, place, or thing with a supernatural talent or origin exudes a golden halo.  Phil is not supernatural, but several things in the background of the video are.

30. A hatchet head, pitted with rust stains.

31. A collection of 57 wheat pennies.

32. A musket ball, retrieved from a human cadaver.

33. Something off this Random Magical Junk table.

34. A CD of The Art of War by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony.  The CD is heavily scratched and cannot be played, although when held to the light, the scratches appear to form arcane symbols.

35. A recipe for a medieval immortality elixir, pieced together as a collage of magazine clippings.

36. A clump of bees, pickled in formaldehyde.  Close examination reveals that the bees' legs have grown together, forming the clump of bees.

37. A child's drawing of a black shape labeled "CENTER TOOME."

38. A toy steak, carved from wood and painted.

39. A leather wallet stuffed with joss paper in the form of Hell bank notes.

40. A rattle.  It appears to be a Barbie leg jammed into a baby doll's head, and the head is filled with some sort of object (beads? bones?) to make it rattle.  The baby head is haphazardly decorated as a jester's ninny-stick.

41. A yellowed sheet of vellum containing a recipe for hummus.  The Latin writings sarcastically refer to it as a work of alchemy, which might confuse a modern scholar.

42. A violin that makes music so terrible it causes actual psychological stress in victims.

43. A monocle.  If dipped in milk, it allows the user to diagnose any illnesses currently affecting any person the user can see.

44. A jar of dappled light, filtered through autumn leaves.

45. A Ziploc bag of black piano keys.

46. An unlabeled 5 1/4" floppy disk.  Assuming the operator can run the program, the screen will read, "COORDINATES?"  If the operator inputs a valid address, the program will read "Y" if a magical item is present in the location and "N" if one is not present.

47. An elephant's leg, hollowed out as an umbrella stand.  It still emanates the infrasonic signals used by elephants to communicate over long distances.  If somehow decoded, it appears to be a mating signal.

48. A baseball cap which, when worn, makes the wearer seem appropriately dressed.  It does not alter appearance, and it does not allow the wearer to enter places where he would not be allowed, but it does mean that the character can wear a T-shirt and jeans to a formal affair and not be turned away based upon his mode of dress.

49. A sardine key that opens any lock it touches.

50. Six hairs in a jar stoppered with wax and human blood.

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