How to GM: How I Come Up With Campaign Ideas

I have been told that I come up with very intense campaigns. It's usually meant as a compliment, which I'm happy to accept, as well as a criticism, which I'm just as happy to listen to. Some people have asked how GMs come up with their concepts. I've always struggled to come up with an answer to this, mostly because to me it's a very intuitive, very personal, sometimes horrific picture. I assume that people do not want to use the method that I keep stumbling across, no matter how hard I try to run from it, but sometimes people get desperate. They want an idea to grab the group they GM for, they want something more than what they've been doing. And what I do definitely produces that. It produces a lot of other things as well and is definitely not perfect, but what works is better than what is just in your head, gathering dust. The process is as follows: I found out what my favorite stories are and why, what those stories made me feel, and then the thoughts behind those feelings. Taking those concepts, which are at the core of who I am as a person, I then use these concepts as themes in all my games.

Um, yeah. That probably sounds weird, if not convoluted. Let me explain.


I have always gravitated towards stories where victory comes at a price. If my protagonists do not walk out looking or feeling like poor Mal over on the right, I'm generally not very satisfied with said story. If Frodo didn't go West I would not have liked it as much as I do. Severian wipes out almost all life in order to save his planet. Cost cost cost! The Reavers almost killing the Serenity crew was one of my favorite scenes from that whole series! Just the sheer intensity of these types of stories is an amazing experience.

Oh, for the record, these are some of my favorite movies, in no particular order:

- Serenity
- Ostrov
- Schindler's List
- The Big Short
- The Last Jedi
- Brick
- Pacific Rim
- The Amazing Spider-Man 2
- Chronicle

Eh, why not put some books too?

- Ocean at the End of the Lane
- Stardust
- The Graveyard Book
- Lord of the Rings
- Children of Hurin
- The Book of the New Sun/ Urth of the New Sun
- The Farthest Shore
- The Tombs of Atuan
- The Last Battle
- The Great Divorce

So, after that, I ask how those stories make me feel? Well, the common thread that I keep running into is exertion. These stories are intense. They deal with intense problems, require solutions that may or may not kill the person who's attempting to fix them, and rarely come out clean. Morality is grey; there are no good people, no bad people, just people trying to make the best decisions they can. Even if there is a transcendence in these stories it's harder to find, often requiring the characters to make decisions without the benefit of an intact inner compass. They do what they can, and pray it works. It often doesn't. But on the other hand there's a beauty that goes through these stories of pain, supporting and holding these characters through their trials. This interaction of pain and divinity creates moments of pathos and beauty.

All feelings have thoughts behind them. So these feelings of pain and divinity have some basic idea behind them, that holds them up and allows them to continue. So, after thinking about those for a while, I came to the conclusion that the two thoughts running through these stories is "This world is doomed. There is no saving it." and "This world was never the point. Let go of it." I find that, no matter where I turn, these are the two thoughts that drive who I am, as a person, and that they always have been. And so therefore these are the things that I explore in all my campaigns: the inevitability of one's world (interior and exterior) collapsing, and how there is so much more than what we thought we had.

I then take every single plot or concern of my players and wrap that thought in, somehow. This usually means that players will come to me with a pitch  these days. I'll ask them what they want, I'll give some feedback, and then I'll take over from there. I take their ideas, and run them through the above process, until I get something that I would like to run. I then ask them about it, and we then discuss what we want the campaign to be about. And then we just keep playing it out. There's not much of a plan beyond the guiding principles of contrasting misery and divinity. Sometimes I have some overarching ideas about how to implement that, but so long as I keep my themes in mind I can address pretty much anything on the fly.

There are notable exceptions to this, of course. The Giggling Dark was an idea that I had, that I couldn't not run, and so I took it to Ryan, cause I figured he would want to play it. He did, and his feedback turned the campaign into something far greater than I ever could have imagined alone. But exceptions prove rules and all that.

So, by way of example, when Bryna and I decided to do a Burning Wheel game, I had a few ideas for what I wanted to do, but I only gave broad setting strokes. Bryna responded back with the specific stuff she wanted to investigate within that framework, which was being the daughter of a rape victim. Given my history with the subject I had some questions, and together we hammered out exactly what that would look like. There was a lot of back and forth at this stage, as we decided on ground rules for what is an admittedly pitch-black concept.

So, what I do is figure out what the core of my interests are, theme-wise, I then get some basic ideas (either from myself or others) of a campaign, run them through those themes, and then begin to collaborate like crazy with the player(s), sketching out what they want to get out of the campaign. And, of course, we then decide upon how long the bloody thing is going to run for. All of this is something that takes place pretty naturally. Now, obviously not everyone does anything even close to this. But it is what works for me. And it may work for you, dear reader.

Being Reclaimed by Mythology

I've got a bit of a confession to make: I've not read much mythology lately. I know, I know, I went on an 8 month rant about the benefits of mythology and how Star Wars was a modern mythological marvel, The Last Jedi especially. Yeah, kinda hypocritical of me. Yup. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've been doing as close to daily as possible my Scripture readings, which is an extremely similar process if you take into account St. Maximos' teachings on how Scripture is meant as a decoder for your life, but classical mythology? Nah, I've not. I got really burned out doing the Star Wars posts, and frankly every time I tried to put myself back into "The Story" I'd just be overwhelmed by my own darkness. But something happened that changed that.

A few months of EMDR therapy later (which is essentially becoming a part of the story you didn't want to acknowledge) and I found myself in a bookstore with my family. We were having a great time; the kids had been at the train table for a long time, the in-laws were happily browsing, and my wife had her hot chocolate. But we were getting hungry and needed to go home for food. Life was good.

I became conscious of an interior call, of some sort. I ignored it, at least at first. I mean, we were wrapping up to go, why now? But the pull persisted. It got so bad that I finally decided to heed... whatever the hell it was. Finally I decided to follow it. The call that came from my soul pulled me into the classics section. And from there to the mythology. And from there to Homer. And from Homer to the Iliad. I'd been down this road many times before, reading the first page and then putting the book down. Rolling my eyes, I picked it up, and opened it to the following words (more or less, as I was reading a different translation):

Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.

And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant's wreath and he besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs.

"Sons of Atreus," he cried, "and all other Achaeans, may the gods who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to reach your homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove."

On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for respecting the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. "Old man," said he, "let me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow old in my house at Argos far from her own home, busying herself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, and do not provoke me or it shall be the worse for you."

 As I read this passage, which I've read over, and over, and over again, that call became a pit. The myth called upon my rage. It was a terrible thing to be asked for; it was decades old, and slowly fading as its underlying causes were being integrated. But here was the myth, asking for my rage, so that way I could do more than understand Achilles, so that way I could be Achilles. I did not fully understand what it was that I was doing, but I needed to do it. And, right there with my family minding their own business, I became Achilles.

Now, let me explain by what I mean by that. Cause that sounds crazy.

I don't mean that I had a hallucination. I was in a bookstore, the whole time. I could see that I was in a bookstore. I could hear everybody around me and was able to respond to them, albeit it took some concentration from me to respond. I just... inside of me something else was happening, and I felt that something distinctly different but just as important (if not more!) was going on, and it so happened that I felt like a completely different person, seeing the world as they did, feeling as they did, wanting what they wanted.

But I wouldn't say that I wasn't affected by what was going on, out in the physical world. My knees buckled, locked, and stayed that way. I swayed, however slightly. My family didn't notice. But I was no longer there. I was Achilles, killing and yelling. I had purpose. My anger drove me. But it was directed. It was not rage. I knew what I was. The anger had context. It meant something. And I wanted to stay there, I wanted to stay where my anger made sense. I wanted to stay Achilles.

I'm not sure when I stopped being Achilles, but at some point I returned. I know I wanted to go back, or better, bring that back to this world. But in order to do that I have to allow my anger and pain to make sense. Mythology may be practice to do that. It may be more than that. I don't know yet. But there's only one way to find out.

What I'm Thankful For

I suppose by writing this post I am making a statement of some sort about what I think of Thanksgiving. There's been a lot of nonsense being tossed around about Thanksgiving being a day of genocide and the usual hand-wringing nonsense of how evil our country is.  

Sit down, you amateurs, I'm a monarchist, I think the whole system is bad.

But that's not going to stop me from realizing that there are days when you actually do need to focus on how grateful you are for your life, and that it needs to be a cultural event. I prefer the original point of Thanksgiving, that of Abraham Lincoln instituting it during the Civil War, one of our nation's lowest points. In darkness praise and thankfulness dawned. That's an amazing thing! And yeah, we should keep doing it! The Pilgrim thing can come or go, I don't really care, but given how toxic the modern discourse is does it really hurt to have a cultural day of thanksgiving and positivity?

If you answered "yes, it really does hurt" then kindly go jump off a cliff. Or at least stop reading. Just go away. Bye!

For the rest of you who aren't currently looking for a cliff to go jump off of, thanks for getting through that preamble! Let's get on with it!

First off, I'm thankful to God. I'm thankful that I continue to breathe, nevermind exist, and that He has given me exactly what I need, when I need it, even when I'm not aware that I do. I am grateful for all the things that He has given me that I like and, most especially, the things that I can barely stand.

I am thankful for the PTSD. It is helping me grow. I am becoming so much more than I ever would have without it.

I am thankful for being such a flawed and (sometimes) awful person, because it means I have to cut others slack, because slack has been cut for me.

I am thankful for being so bloody tired, because it means that my children are growing and changing and I get to be there and experience it with them, at every juncture.

Also first off, I am so grateful for that angel who continues to love me, also known as my wife.  Thank you for existing, because it would impossible for me to think of a world that is good without you being in it. Thank you for being so kind and considerate of others, because I wouldn't have learned to give a rat's ass without your continuing reminders that I should. Thank you for your support, in everything, because without it I'd have floundered in mediocrity and evil a long time ago. Thank you for not putting up with my (continuous) crap, but doing so in a gentle and loving manner. Thank you for being such a wonderful mother to our kids. The beauty that shines out of them is because of you, by and large. You have shown them how to be luminous boys, and I am so grateful that I get to come home and admire what you have done for them by just being in close proximity to them.

I am so thankful for my for my firstborn son. He continues to show me that it's OK to be emotional and intense and to not be apologetic for it. There are moments when that little guy smiles and I need to go get sunglasses, because so much light comes out. Thank you for loving Calvin and Hobbes and lightsabers and Spider-Man and Thomas and all these other things that I love, but with a simplicity and passion that have always disarmed me and my cynicism. Half the time I'm not sure who's teaching who how to be a good person. The rest of the time I know it's you teaching me. Thank you for putting up with my grumpy self and just plodding right through whatever grouchiness I have on a particular day, for trusting that there is someone good under all that flotsam and jetsam. Thank you for loving your mother so fiercely, and for protecting your little brother to the fullest extent of your ability. You are one of the strongest people I know, little guy. I'm proud of you.

I am thankful for my second son. You are the only dude I know who was born with Polish Grandmother genes, and it's an amazing sight. You always make sure we're all together, warm, and well-fed, and that's quite an inspiration. Thank you for your little temper, cause it's adorable! I mean, I doubt you see it that way, but I sure do. Thank you for being so tough and durable in loving your brother, because you're both so small yet and so much that you'd like to say to each other can't be, not yet. Thank you for your little entourage of stuffed animals, of which at least one (usually Pooh) must be present at all times. And definitely thank you for stuffing all your food in my mouth, even if it was in your mouth first. No, I'll never let that be forgotten.

I am thankful for the rest of my family. You've all been so supportive, honest, and vulnerable, and I cannot begin to say how blessed I am for it. Thank you for being willing to work through all the crap that normally destroys families, and for being a large part of why it didn't destroy us. Most people I know roll their eyes at least once when they mention their family. I'm not one of those folks, and I'm so grateful for that.

I am grateful for Andy, who should honestly be credited as editor of this blog. I probably should do that more often. You've read most of the crap that winds up on here, and given feedback that is invaluable. Thank you for being honest, even if it means crushing some ideas mid-sentence, and for keeping this grumpy hermit of the wider trends of gaming, even when I really don't want to know. You keep me honest and good on this blog, and in general.

Thank you to whoever reads this bloody blog. Y'all know who you are. Thanks for sticking around. I hope I keep going. Don't let me stop.

Thank you to Luke Crane and Jonathan Ying, who have made my favorite games. Games are important, and y'all's games are particularly important to me.

I could go on.

And on.

And on.

And on.

There is so much to be thankful for, so much so that one can honestly spend the rest of one's life doing it.

I should try it.

Join me?

The Giggling Dark: Session Twenty-Three

Sir Xellous: The 14 year old main character, played by Kurlak. Last session he had been publicly outed as Kora's husband, which caused a huge ruckus. Kora had fainted. King Varlur and Komas were pissed off. With the help of Telos and Ikuinen Lampo Sir Xellous had related what had happened to Kora. He managed to get permission from King Varlur to go to the junkyard planet with Ikuinen Lampo, Kora, and  Telos, to get a power source for Ikuinen Lampo to stay in her Epiphany Form.

Kora: Sir Xellous' wife. As a child she had been habitually raped her father, Altous, and impregnated by him. When she had a chance Kora killed him. She was then kidnapped by the khen-zai, her mind was wiped of all memories, and she was dropped outside of Broadnough, where she met and married Komas, the now-prime minister.

Genevieve: Sir Xellous' dead sister, former best friend and confidante of Kora. She died protecting the both of them from a flammeous lad. Ikuinen Lampo revived her body and has been using it to travel with Sir Xellous and Telos, with the permission of Genevieve's departed soul. 

Ikuinen Lampo: The star of Khouria, who had made Sir Xellous her celestial knight. She's been making moon eyes at Sir Xellous for awhile now. He's not really noticed.

Sir Xellous and Komas sat by Kora's side until she woke up. The instant she saw him she got up and stormed past them, out the door, and slammed it so hard that both men thought she would rattle it off its hinges. Sir Xellous walked after her, calling out to her as she stormed down the hall. He asked if she was OK.

Kora turned on her feet, purple in the face ("There's the Kora I know", muttered Sir Xellous, half admiringly) and he found that his blood had turned to ice water. Getting right in his face Kora began yelling. No, she was not alright. For three months - THREE MONTHS - Sir Xellous had the opportunity to tell her the truth. For three months she had come to talk with him as he was convalescent and he hadn't said anything. It made Kora sick just to think about it! What wasn't he telling her?? Was Gerard's his? Why had she been pregnant? WHAT HAPPENED??

Komas had stuck his head out, saw how angry Kora was, and tried sneak back in. But it was too late: Kora had seen him. Kora demanded to know what Sir Xellous had told him. Komas turned pale and tried to shut the door, but Kora yanked the door open and screamed so loudly that the halls seemed to tremble. Why did everyone know about where she came from but her?? Thoroughly purple and breathing in ragged gasps, Kora stalked off.

Komas and Sir Xellous stood there a moment. Komas asked why the hell Sir Xellous hadn't said anything over those three months.  Sir Xellous told him it was honestly because he couldn't figure out how to say it. He wanted to say something, but just couldn't figure out exactly what to say.

They didn't hear Kora coming back; she slammed Sir Xellous into a wall. She demanded to know if Gerard's was his. Gulping, Sir Xellous shook his head. Kora demanded of Komas if he knew that, during the time she was unconscious, if Sir Xellous had told him. Komas nodded. Then Kora asked if Ikuinen Lampo (referred to as star-slut) knew as well. Looking to her left, Kora saw Ikuinen Lampo standing there, Genevieve's face had gone pale. She had come down to check on Kora and was trying to figure out how to respond. Still calling her star-slut, Kora demanded if Ikuinen Lampo knew who the father of the Gerard was, since it wasn't Sir Xellous and it certainly couldn't be Komas. Ikuinen Lampo said she knew everything. Kora asked Sir Xellous if he had noticed that Ikuinen Lampo was in love with him, head over friggin' heels. Sir Xellous looked over at Lampo, but she didn't say anything. Disgusted, Kora stomped past Ikuinen Lampo.

Ikuinen Lampo finally found it within her to ask if she could talk with Sir Xellous, but he brushed her off; he needed time to process that information. Ikuinen Lampo was about to plead with him, but they heard a scream, opposite down the hall from where Kora had gone. Komas had vanished. Sir Xellous and Ikuinen Lampo ran down the hall, toward the screaming.

There was a flammeous lad, standing over a courtier.

Sir Xellous and Ikuinen Lampo were shocked. It took effort to summon a flammeous lad, what the hell was one doing here?

Sir Xellous began to rip bits off of his shirt, to make wraps for his hands, to deal with the flames. He told Ikuinen Lampo to run back to their infirmary, grab Pyra, and get it to Kora. Ikuinen Lampo asked if that was a good idea, given that Kora probably didn't remember how to work it. Sir Xellous snapped at her that he was sure, and that she needed to get moving now; she started running. The flammeous lad turned to face him, giggling and contorting as the flames that powered it flickered. Sir Xellous still had his Behemoth armbands on; he was confident he could take the flammeous lad. He grabbed and slammed it, headfirst, into the stone floor, as hard as he could. Something inside of him snapped, and he began to pound the flammeous lad into the stone floor, over and over again, until it cracked open in a conflagration of sparks and flame. The courtier had run away.

Sir Xellous stopped to take a breath. He stooped down, and looked at the remains of the flammeous lad. He could use it in enchanting. Gingerly, he began to stash bits of the lad into his cloak.

He could hear Ikuinen Lampo and Kora screaming, down the hall.

Sir Xellous ran as fast as he could, pieces still stowed. They were on opposite sides of the hall, huddled into fetal positions, with a flammeous lad apiece standing over them. Reaching into the aura of one the flammeous lads, Sir Xellous focused all its rage upon its companion, and a new fight broke out. Sir Xellous barked at the women that they needed to get over to him, right now. They didn't need to be told twice. Hand in hand, all three ran at breakneck speed away from the two flammeous lads. Sir Xellous asked Ikuinen Lampo if she had gotten Pyra to Kora. Lampo told him that they hadn't gotten that far yet. Kora asked what Pyra was. Sir Xellous told her it was the impossibly awesome bow he had made her at a low point in her life. It was stolen by her brother, Michael, as a revenant to kill her with.

Kora stopped running. Sir Xellous tried to get her to go on, but Ikuinen Lampo told him she had been informed by Tooma Toahoya that all the flammeous lads in the area had vanished, teleported out by an unknown force.

Ernzen came running up to the trio. He told them that King Varlur was dead.

An overwhelming number of flammeous lads had attacked the great hall, where King Varlur was. He had died in the fighting. Sir Xellous started to move to the aid of the court, but Ernzen slowed him down.  he had overheard their conversation and wanted that to continue. Broadnough was his area, and he needed to take charge of it. Taking her gently by the shoulders Ernzen apologized for everything he had done. She raised an eyebrow at him, but Ernzen told her she would understand soon enough. He left to report to Komas, who was the temporary leader of the nation. So did Ikuinen Lampo.

Sir Xellous and Kora sat down. She asked about Pyra. Sir Xellous started at the beginning. He told her about how they had known each other since they were children, running into their first flammeous lad, how she had killed her father Altous, and how Sir Xellous had found out about Kora's years of molestation at the hands of her father.

They had to stop and take a moment for that.

They then talked about Sir Xellous becoming a celestial knight and Telos' release, with Kora giggling at the thought of Telos coming up out of the ground, like some sort of righteous monster. They talked about the Behemoth's coming and how Kora had killed it, not him. Kora remarked dryly that she figured Sir Xellous didn't have the stomach for such business, and they both laughed. Swallowing, Sir Xellous told Kora about her mother and how the drowning of her eldest brother, Charles, had been the start of it all.

Kora needed a moment for that too. Well, longer than that, honestly.

Sir Xellous told her about how she had been kidnapped, and how he had spent the next few months trying to get strong enough to go and fight the khen-zai so he could get her back... only to find her here. He explained what had happened to Michael, and how sorry he was that Michael had died the way he had. They mourned it, together.

Kora said she didn't remember of it. She had no idea how she could have told that to anyone, either. She asked Sir Xellous how the heck he hadn't noticed that Ikuinen Lampo was in love with him. Sir Xellous responded that he only had eyes for Kora, and that was always going to be true. He didn't notice because it hadn't been relevant to the task at hand. Kora laughed, saying he was an idiot. Sir Xellous told her that he had always relied upon her for help with the social stuff, that if he had it his way he'd be back at their barn, making some newly enchanted item. Kora said she sounded like a huge nerd, and Sir Xellous remarked that he didn't really know what he was anymore.

Kora said she wanted to see her mother, regardless of whether she remembered or not. The elves were coming the next day to take them to that planet they were talking about. But before they left Kora insisted on seeing her mom. Sir Xellous agreed.

They sat there awhile. There was still so much to do.

The next session of The Giggling Dark will happen sometime in January, thanks to the holidays and family visits and whatnot. Thank you for continuing to read, it means the world to me.

The Undertow: Session One

Lore: Whenever an enlisted Protector (an elven soldier) decides they want to become an officer, they give their issued sword to their commanding officer, for safekeeping. Should they pass the training and become commissioned, the trainee's commander returns their sword to them, but now embellished with the gems and gold that an officer's sword always has. This process is known as "turning in one's sword".

When Mikansia heard that Krakeru was in Elfharrow she let out an audible gasp and grew pale. After a few seconds she got her composure back, but the damage was done; everyone else in her military formation noticed, particularly Captain Akseli. He asked for volunteers to go down to the surface and root the dark elves out of Elfharrow. Mikansia volunteered. After formation he asked to speak with Mikansia, in private. He asked if everything was OK with her, since Mikansia had quite the reaction. Captain Akseli needed to know what was going on, for the security of their unit. Mikansia  tried to lie, telling Captain Akseli that she was upset about the continuing existence of the dark elves. Captain Akseli saw right through her and grew angry; she had lied to a commanding officer! He commanded she show up the next morning, after the morning formation, to discuss disciplinary measures, for putting the rest of the group at risk.

That night Mikansia had a dream. She was standing in a field in high summer, bright with all the colors one could imagine. A twelve foot figure approached her. It was scaly, with bright feathers coming out the back of its helmed head. It pulled out a scroll and unrolled it with its talons. It was an order from the High King, honorably releasing Mikansia from the Sword Singers, signed and sealed. Rolling it up, the creature pointed at the ground. A sword, plain but lovely, came up out of the ground. It belonged to Jabez, one of her fellow sword singers. Mikansia woke up, afraid.

Unable to sleep, Mikansia left her room and went into the courtyard, where the guards stood by a fire. Jabez was out at the fire, sword betwixt his knees, as he looked deep into the flame. A bit shaken, Mikansia sat down beside him and asked how he was doing.

Jabez stared happily into the flames for a moment.

He had just had the most wonderful dream: that he had been handed back his sword, and that it had been made into an officer's sword. He could still feel the gem-encrusted sword in his hands.  Jabez couldn't sleep, he was so excited. He was going to turn in his sword. He was going to become an officer. He just knew it.

Jabez asked Mikansia if she could hold onto his sword for a few minutes; he needed to go to the bathroom and didn't want to bring it with him. Mikansia agreed. The instant he left Mikansia felt exhausted. it was a weariness so overwhelming that she only noticed she was going to bed when her hand touched her door. She stared at the door, deliberating a moment. But she dragged her exhausted body, step by step, back to the fire pit. Somehow she stayed awake until Jabez returned, apologizing for taking so long.

Jabez asked Mikansia if she was alright from earlier, both at the ending formation and afterwards, with Captain Akseli. Mikansia tried to play it off, but that frustrated Jabez, who complained that Mikansia was closed off. For over eight years he'd known her, from the time of their admission into the Protectors, and no one knew anything about her. Sure, he knew her parents had been killed by dark elves (which was a blatant lie), but that was literally anything anyone knew about her. Why did she join? Why had she shown up for preliminary training in more fur than most had seen in their entire lives? Mikansia replied sheepishly that she had joined to protect everyone, hadn't everyone else? Jabez said hardly anyone could say that with a straight face; he, for example, had joined because of his family's military roots. He wanted to do his father proud. Mikansia told Jabez that Krakeru was responsible for the death of her family, and that she wanted to bring him to justice. Jabez offered to go with Mikansia to see Captain Akseli the next day. Mikansia was hesitant, but Jabez insisted. Captain Akseli was Jabez's mentor and he might be able to explain the situation better than her. Mikansia finally agreed. They both went to their respective rooms, to go to sleep Somewhere, deep down, Mikansia knew she had missed an opportunity to go to the surface on her own terms. Sorrow enveloped her. She found herself singing a lament to cope.

She didn't go back to sleep.

Floating in the Grid: Session One

Everything began that day. Marvin, Vesper, Jen, Eddie, Chloe, and Jack had just found a strange dilapidated building, out in the desert outside Angel Grove. They knew each other, loosely, from before, but weren't exactly friends. But, somehow, they all came that day. None of them particularly remembered why. And they never asked. The inside was dusty, caked in time and darkness. Cellphones alleviated some of that, although it definitely wasn't the dust that fled from the light. They found a series of six strange objects, sitting neatly, clean, glowing softly: red, blue, black, yellow, and two pinks. Each of them picked up one of these devices: Marvin went for the red, Eddie the blue, Vesper the black, Jen and Chloe each grabbed pink, and Jack grabbed yellow.

The earth shook, and light glared on them from above. The light showed them Angel Grove. At first they didn't notice the monsters. The sky, which had been a myriad menagerie of colors for a few weeks, was still so distracting to them that they couldn't really focus on much else. But when their eyes adjusted they saw monsters. At the Park. At Ernie's Juice Bar. Downtown.  Right now. One flash of light later and one of those monsters, a grey thing made of rocks, stood amongst them. Everyone screamed. The thing seemed startled as well.

Sometimes when things get frightening and adrenaline kicks in the world slows down. That's certainly the norm. But sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes the world only speeds up more, until it's a blur. Remembering later isn't a problem, but during that moment you wonder if the world will go back to normal. There was another  flash of light, and a black-clad figure knocked the monster over and shattered it in one blow.

They all looked at each other, and they knew what to do. "Go!" Marvin shouted, and he and Vesper found themselves at Ernie's, while Jen and Eddie, Chloe and Jack found themselves in the park, facing two  of the monsters they'd seen in the building, with three monster that were growing and changing form as they moved. One of these moved fast, much to fast for Jen, Eddie, and Jack to track, changing shape to swallow one of them whole. They never figured out who, because Chloe's foot connected to the monster's chin and shattered its head. Another one attempted to swallow Jack, who grabbed it by the shoulders and headbutted it so hard that it shattered. Jen found herself lunging at another one of the shifting monsters, but she was moving as fast as Chloe was, who had shouted something incomprehensible in her direction. She burst through the thing, sending pieces across the park. Eddie, watching all of this, found that he was holding a trident. One of the more familiar monsters leaped at him, and he skewered it, slamming it into the ground. "Heh, these things are like putty", he chuckled. There was still one monster at the park. Chloe hit it in the chin with a right hook, but it barely cracked. Eddie jumped onto it and slammed it, headfirst, into the ground of a basketball court, shattering it.

At Ernie's everyone was running around, screaming and running from the five monsters. Vesper jumped into the fray, Marvin hot on her heels. Claws popped out of his gauntlets, and he cut two of them down in rapid succession. He missed a third one, who jumped on him and practically buried him in a series of blows. Vesper pulled the monster off of Marvin and punched it into the ground, winding it. Climbing atop it, Vesper beat it into gravel with her bare fists. Marvin ran at the fourth monster and cut it into crumbly ribbons. The last one came at Marvin, who found that he had a hand cannon too. One good blast later and civilians were harmlessly showered in bits of rock. Chloe and Jack sat down for a moment, shaking their heads. They took a deep breath.

A crackling noise happened in everyone's helmets; schoolchildren were running for their lives, chased by the four shapechanging monsters. A strange pumpkin-headed creature, along with four of the strange monsters. Two more were at the docks, and a strange, short white creature in workrobes dropped into Ernie's bar, just in front of Marvin.

Jen, Eddie, Chloe, and Jack teleported from the park to the docks, facing the pumpkin-headed... thing. Jack jumped right  into the fray, the others following. Eddie shot on ahead of Jack, and slashing at the vines that came out of it. But he couldn't cut through them, and the vines smacked him, Jen, Jack, and Chloe. Jack took some of the brunt, but he couldn't stop everyone else from being hit by the vines. Chloe whipped out a bow ("Wait, where did I get this?" she shouted) and shot an arrow at the creature, whose mouth started to spark. Flames shot out and burned them all. Jumping back, Jack found that not only did he have a gigantic maul but it had a cannon in it. He pointed it directly at the pumpkin-headed thing and shot it, point blank, enveloping it in an explosion. Jack then headbutted a putty, breaking it into pieces. Chloe jumped at the vines coming out at the pumpkin-headed creature and severed some more of its vines. Some of putties jumped onto Jen and Eddie and beat on them, with the vines crawling over them. Eddie grabbed his blades, threw the putties off, and cut all the vines apart. One of the putties budded, producing another one. Jack, sick and tired of everything, walked straight up to the pumpkin-headed monster, who was just about to drop some sick rhymes, and headbutted it, breaking its head open. The rest of his remains dissolved. The putties ran away.

Back at Ernie's, Vesper found a darkness welling up inside her. It rushed out, and ran over the strange white creature. "Why, I say!" he shouted. Marvin examined the creature as it was being overwhelmed, and pointed out to Vesper how it tried to protect its stomach. But that's when the creature, who introduced himself as Finster, pulled two putties, straight out of the ground. Marvin jumped at Finster, claws cutting deeply into his stomach. Vesper pulled out her axe and ripped into Finster as well. Marvin dropped back, waiting for Finster's next move. A few of the putties jumped onto Marvin, but he pulled out his hand cannon and shot Finster right in the face. The two parties pulled back and took a breather.

Jack, Eddie, Chloe, and Jen teleported over to Ernie's Juice Bar. Finster tried to get the drop on them as they teleported in, but Chloe blocked him, forcing him to back off. Jen whipped out a rifle and began to  blast at Finster, and Eddie followed up with a pair of blades. Finster responded with a cannon of his own, but it glanced off of Jack. Eddie pinned Finster to the ground, Marvin held up Finster's head, and Vesper smash it with her shield. With a bright flash Finster was gone. Jen and Eddie, exhausted, teleported back to the mysterious command center they had found and sat down, exhausted. It was over.

There was a flash of lightning, and the thunder wave blew Jen and Eddie off their feet. More putties dropped out of nowhere, suffocating the city. A strange humanoid figure in black was in the command center, along with three putties. He began to root through some of the computers, muttering about how he needed to find a trace of The Dark Key. The consoles began to spark and then caught on fire.  Jen and Eddie, staring in shock at first, leapt to their feet. Marvin, Vesper, Jack, and Chloe ported in a second later.

Chloe outraced the strange creature, who turned to face them, only to find that she was blocking him. Taking the opening, Eddie pulled out his trident and impaled the robed one, deep in the chest, with Jen laying down covering fire with her rifle. The darkness streamed out of Vesper and engulfed the thing, Marvin shot him in the face, and Jen ran in and shot it in the hand.

With a flick of its fingers Jen and Eddie disappeared.

The robed figured grabbed Vesper and brought its face up to her ear. She grew pale. With a crack and a flash the stranger was gone, as were the putties. Vesper collapsed on the ground and began to weep.

How to GM: How to Pick a Game

So I was on the phone with my littlest sister the other day. We've always wanted to game together, but due to a series of unfortunate circumstances we've never been able to realize our dream. But things are about to open up in both our schedules and you may be seeing play reports up on here, God willing! I asked her what she wanted to play... and she told me she wanted something funny.

Any of you who have been reading this blog and my play reports know that I do not do funny. Not willingly.

It's not that I don't have a sense of humor. It's just that my tastes in stories are incredibly serious and dark. My sister and I have had pretty rough lives, with our own histories of mental illness and whatnot. But whereas I face it head-on, in the dark, grimly, my sister faces it with a witty quip and a wry smile. She's awesome. It's easy to strap on a grim and serious face when looking at your issues, but to look at it and laugh? Gosh, I admire that.

But a comedic RPG?

But, what the hell, it's my baby sister! And besides, stretching is almost always a good idea. Fortunately I had an idea for what games I wanted to try with her and I think we came to an agreement for when the time comes! Here are the steps I took: I considered our tastes and capabilities, thought about the games that I owned that might fit, considered their mechanical possibilities, pitched what I loved about the game, and took in feedback. I didn't have to repeat the whole process, but if you have to, do so.

So, the first thing I did was that I took my own tastes into account. Like I said, I don't do funny terribly often, but I needed to consider that here. So I wondered if it was a place that I wanted to go in the first place. But, y'know, stretching your repertoire is a good idea, so why not give a shot? I know that I'm going to have a rough time doing it, so my expectations are set accordingly. My baby sister wanted something funny. Fortunately she has a really dark sense of humor, probably blacker than mine, so I know I can throw in a pretty dark setting that'll give me the kicks that I need, but still be funny enough... well... let's be honest... that'll probably be funnier to her.

Mutant Crawl Classics dropped into my head. I pitched it. I talked to her about the character funnel and its gruesomely hilarious potential, about the fact that most of the game's mechanics were about silly spells from AIs and trying not to be vaporized by the tech you were trying to work. She laughed uproariously, and said "Let's do it!" I also floated Honey Quest, but she really liked the post-apoc ridiculousness of MCC enough to where we called it a day. We were really happy about it. We'll see what happens.

But what if you can't think of a game? Don't despair! There are definitely games out there for pretty much every taste (F.A.T.A.L. DOES NOT COUNT AS TASTE BUT IT DOES EXIST OH GOD WHY). That usually means some level of research. The simple answer, of course, is to just go to DnD or Pathfinder. I cannot caution against this enough. It's not that those are bad games (OK, I think DnD 5e isn't very good, but whatever), but that those games are actually for very specific experiences. You are always free to ask on this particular blog or the Facebook group or wherever for recommendations, but don't settle for something that doesn't fit what you'd like. 

Picking a game does not have to be a terribly complicated thing. You don't have to settle for a game that is "good enough" or "popular" or whatever else means you're settling for less than what you want. Consider what types of things you and your friends like in stories and in general, come up with an agreement, do some research, and ask around. Your game will be so much better for going for a good fit, as opposed to a square peg in a round hole.

The RPG Subreddit is filled with a lot of good people.

I've never had a problem with RPG.net

Conversely, if you don't want to ask around, go to RPG Geek. I just found this place. It's awesome.

May the Power Protect You: Tommy Oliver (MMPR Green, Loner)

Loner Tommy is the hardest hitting character in the game, is the most vulnerable, and is also practically invincible if you get him going? Yeah, he's a bit strange. He's got (for my money) the best card in the game and, while he's certainly risky to play, there are few other characters who are as distinctive, or who give a rush playing with. Loner Tommy is the black ops of the rangers, able to go anywhere and wreck shop and then get the heck out. He's awesome.

Loner immediately pigeonholes Tommy. He has one goal: to get by himself and kick ass. And he can! As most people know, assuming Tommy rolls well he's great. But be careful; do not jump into battle alone unless you have all the cards you need. There's been plenty of times when I've looked at an area, thought "Oh, I can do that" and found out the hard way that I really shouldn't have done it. Look before you leap, because you could be opening your team up to a world of hurt that didn't need to happen. That being said, don't be surprised if you don't clear areas. Your job isn't necessarily to unpanic zones, but to keep everything manageable for the rest of your team. And don't forget your deck is the same size as everyone else's! Don't go in unless you've either got a full deck or know you can stand taking a hit or two. Or four.

Solo Strike (known at our table as "The Boomerang") is, far as I'm concerned, the best card in the game. In a game without a basic attack option cards that stick around are automatically better than any other option you have in your hand. Solo Strike is the most flexible of the recall cards. Yes, you are giving up your die to recall it. But when faced with a full contingent of four minions Tommy can reliably clear up at least three of them, using only this card. This means you  can send Tommy to areas that are panicked or are close to panicked and reasonably expect him to clear the area, assuming he has one copy of Solo Strike. Fighting monsters with just this card isn't really as sure of a thing, but why're you sending Tommy to fight a monster by himself in the first place? But we'll get to that in a minute.

Dagger Solo is probably Tommy's second most useful card in solo play and definitely his most useful card in groups. I'm generally pretty cautious about taking a hit, but Dagger Solo is so useful that I would gladly take a hit to get it set up, especially since it means that Dragon Shield is free! Multiple Dagger Solos make team play a snap, with any energy generated after that being icing on the cake. Take the time. Dagger Solo.

Dragon Dagger says to repeat the attack. That means that, whenever you're ready to use this sucker, have everyone throw everything they have onto the first attack, because it does the exact same thing twice. This makes you a sweeping giant, even if it's just for a moment! You have the potential to take out two boss cards in one hit, which is amazing! And, if you're solo, it's the card that you must have if you're going to take on a monster. Do not take on monsters alone without Dragon Dagger and Solo Strike. With both these cards you have a pretty good chance of cutting down any monster who isn't Pudgy Pig (who is an evil mess for Tommy, particularly solo). It's not for sure, but if you're having to go out of your way to take out a monster it means that your group's in a lot of trouble to begin with. If your team is in that position you can rest assure that you have a better chance than anyone else.

Dragonzord is... ridiculous. Just ridiculous. I've never not seen this card get used in a round without high fives following it. Throw in a Zack or Kimberly or some other high-damaging character and you will find yourself wrecking multiple cards at once. I mean, don't get me wrong, Dragonzord should be ridiculous, he's the best zord in canon, but my goodness, you get Dragonzord paired with the right folks and the enemy is going to be hurting. It takes some set-up, but the pay-off is so large, so overwhelming, so incredible, that it beggars description.

Loner Tommy is a mini-team to himself. He can deal a whole ton of damage, but he can't take what he dishes out, so be careful with him! But, provided you respect the size of his deck and that you choose your targets wisely, Tommy will completely redefine your game. If you don't... well... Tommy will redefine your game! Just not the way you would have liked!

In the interest of clarity, I was a playtester for the Green Ranger. Thank to you Jonathan Ying and Renegade for giving me the opportunity.

The Undertow: Session Zero

With Moréna under our belts Lena and I put our minds to a Burning Wheel campaign. Given our mutual love of Tolkien, going to the elves was a bit of a no-brainer. We went and talked about the elves of The Ring of Tears, and about dark elves, who are the elves who have decided not to defend the world from the Nameless, but to go and get what they can from the lesser races and try to convince their nitwit brethren to abandon them.

Mikansia was born from the the rape of Makirta by the dark elf Krakeru. When Mikansia was a little girl her mother took a ship into the Void, never to be seen again. The young girl was taken in by her aunt, Auringona, but she wasn't told the truth about her lineage until she was much older. Angry, she left Kotaemah, went to the Kelluvat Tuhannet, and became a hunter. After some time she went back to Kotaemah and joined the military, eventually becoming an elite Sword Singer, the best of the best.

And then the news spread that Krakeru had been found in Tontukeyt, the supposedly abandoned dark elf surface stronghold, also known as Elfharrow. Hearing that Krakeru was there, Mikansia resolved to go to the surface and find her father and... whatever it took.

Whatever that means.

Yeah.

This'll go well.

How to GM: Up to Snuff

So you've decided you want to GM. CONGRATS TO A LIFE OF OBSESSION AND HORROR!... I mean... You're going to have a great time! A wonderful time! Yay!

Dr. Cox memes are the standard around here. Deal with it.

Yeah, puppy dogs and rainbows.

Uh huh.

No, seriously, GMing can be a pretty hard thing to do.

Don't get me wrong, it's worth it! But it's hard. And your job can be made much harder by refusing to develop soft skills (aka "People skills"). If you don't know how to "share" "your" game with "your" players, take criticism with a level head, and make the story about the PCs and the setting, then I don't think you'll get terribly far. I mean, you might go on and on as a GM, but that doesn't mean you're a very good one.

Alright, let's kick this off. Repeat after me:

IT'S NOT YOUR GAME.

Confused? OK, let's try it again. Maybe you'll get it this time:

IT'S NOT YOUR GAME.

The campaign is not your baby, it is everyone's. Everyone cares about it. If they didn't they wouldn't be playing! So get that out of your head, now. This is everyone's game. Make sure your players know it, particularly those who come from a background where the GM was made the sole curator of the campaign. Ask for input, frequently, ask for people to apply their ideas to the setting, to the themes, to the mechanics, everything. Yes, the GM gets final say in the game, as he should, just remember that the players have the final stay on whether or not they stay in the game! Listened to players are happy players.

And that ties into taking criticism well. Let's get this out of the way: YOU'RE GOING TO MESS UP. The more you do it the less mistakes you'll make, but that does not make you infallible. A few weeks ago one of my players, Ryan, told me that I had run his character over, making for a horrible time. He only told me because we were friends and he wanted to make sure that I knew he would go with it.

I was appalled.

I demanded to know what the exact problem was. We sat down, worked it out, and eventually we came to a good compromise. I wasn't a pushover, but at no point in time did I tell Kurlak that he was wrong for feeling what he felt. I told him what I was willing to compromise on, the hills that I would die on, regardless of his feelings about it, and we negotiated. And he was happy with it! I felt bad that he had to do it at all, but my ability to listen and respond allowed for the game to be better, because both of us were in on it. I didn't get my slaughter and dark ending, but who cares? A solution we come up with together is far better than anything I can come up with on my own. That's why I'm bloody playing a group game.

There are two trains of thought about designing campaigns: the wrong way (design stuff and players have to bend to it) and the wrong way (cater to the players in everything!!!). The truth is dead in the middle. The GM is a player, he gets to have his ideas in the game and he gets the satisfaction of playing these ideas out. And he should get to do so! And players should feel like they are the center of their own story. They went to the trouble of filling out those stupid sheets, so yeah, the game needs to be about them. But not at the cost of destroying GM investment. You are not a slave. Nor are you a god. You are a player, Mr. GM. So bring your ideas for the setting and story to the table, and adapt them to the player's choices! Don't be afraid to ask a player "I really don't want to kill undead, can we stick with dragon stuff instead?", but be ready to incorporate their stuff in return "OK, looks like we're doing a lot of dracoliches and all the dragons have an undead fetish". And guess what? Incorporating their stuff will make your story that much better! Why do dragons love to use undead as minions? What happened? And that answer is going to be interesting.

I personally think most of GMing can be summed up by the line "Don't be a dick". And I usually think that works out. But it doesn't hurt to elucidate a bit, from time to time. Rules mastery is nice, but any game can be learned if you pound your head against the book long enough, as I've pointed out repeatedly about Burning Wheel. What makes you a good GM is not your rules mastery, but your humility, ability to listen, and willingness to incorporate your player's ideas into the game. Yes, the buck stops with you. But that doesn't mean you can't ask for help in lifting that stupid ten point deer.