The Elephant in the Room: Moving On

 

Months have gone on since what I thought of as the end of this series. And, here I am, writing more. Why? Simple. I have absolutely no idea what to do with... all of this. 

So, let's recap: from 16-37, almost 38, I had continuous dreams of a black-haired girl, who aged linearly, properly, as you would have expected. These dreams covered her maturation, and included some pretty gnarly stuff, like being set on fire, fighting monsters for her, and then sitting with her as she grew up and tried to process whatever was going on in her waking life. I started recovering these dreams after literally dying and coming back. And then, once I wrote A Conclusive Holding Pattern, I had one more dream, which I wrote down, and then everything stopped. Or, I think it stopped. I have a feeling it's still going on, but for whatever reason it's been blocked.

Almost 17 years (I didn't dream at all in the Army, so there's four years gone there) of some of the most vivid, cathartic, awful, and tender things got burned into my memory, and then it stops.

What the fuck.

Now, I'm not judging what I'm writing. I'm just going to write and post. I've done that for years, and it's served me well.

But this one post, I am second-guessing that. Maybe I should.

But here we go.

I know why I was allowed to remember. I've heard other people's experiences, enough of them to know I'm not alone in having this kind of thing happen. The difference is I was allowed to experience it sharply enough to not be able to deny it. And it was a mercy that I did. See, I had stopped believing in my ability to be a good person. It wasn't that I thought I was a bad guy, it was that I could no longer believe I was a good person, in any capacity. I had no confidence in my ability to do the right thing.

These... whatever they are... were forced back into my consciousness to make me unable to turn away from one fact: I do actually have a spark of goodness left. It's there. I can't fight it. I can't hide from it. I am capable of great acts of goodness for people I don't know. And I know this person is in the waking world, right now. I know this. I also know talking to this person, just out of the blue, will do no one any good. The decision to not bother her was made so quickly that it barely counts as a decision. It was reflex.

I saw her. I knew it was her. And I knew somehow that it was none of my business whether she remembered or not.

Okay, cool, again reflex.

It's an act of grace I would dearly love to deny, but I can't. I know what I chose to do, and I know it's binding, and that's not  the thing that I care about.

I cannot stop asking myself why the dreams stopped. I can feel it needed to happen. The ability to handle the dreams was slipping from me. I had four years of consciously remembering them in real-time going on, and that takes a toll, and it was time to let me rest. I get this.

In my head.

But four years.. it becomes a part of you. And now it's not. And it's not even been six months, and I simply do not know how it's supposed to flush out of me.

I am not trying to find a solution.

I am simply admitting that, on some level, there's an open question and I don't know how to address it, but I'm going to try to here:

What was the point?

I'm not sure, but I do know the following things. 

Lies have an actual impact upon your body. Take it from someone who has been facing the truth of two childhood rapes and multiple years of abuse atop it: every single time I have uncovered a lie told to me by my oppressors that I believed, it hurt me, and not just psychologically and spiritually, but especially physically. It has always been a drain. And I have lot of lies I internalized, and the further I get into this the more I realize just how much it has screwed up my physical health. One of the greatest obvious lies of the modern age is that believing a lie can be healthy. The concept of the "noble lie" has absolutely no basis in reality, whatsoever. Sorry. I've yet to encounter one. 

So there's no "who cares if it's factual or not, as long as it heals you?" If it heals you it's because there's truth in it. Period.

The truth, on the other hand, has always had a positive impact, once ingested properly. There are hard truths, and those hard truths can be extremely difficult to figure out how to contextualize. If you are withholding the truth from someone because they may not be willing or able to properly utilize it, that is a very different conversation. You withhold the truth because it may not be useful, but it is not an ideal state, and hopefully you will be able to end that. The truth is something that must be frequently wrestled with, but doing so, in hope, is always a healing process.

Always.

And I know this: every single moment of these last years has been a gauntlet, right to the face. Finding the black-haired girl in the real world was horrifyingly difficult, but it awoke tenderness in me that I didn't know I could have for my wife and children. The effects of knowing the dreams hurt, but it kept making me a kinder, gentler person, in remembering them. Dying and coming back from the dead with this vision burning in my chest was extremely harsh but, once again, the effects have been healing, soul-mind-body. 

Lies.

Cannot.

Heal.

Painful as it is to admit, losing access to the dreams as they happen in real-time has also pushed me forward. I have had to learn to address the present again, in ways I forgot I even could. Knowing who the black-haired girl is is heinously difficult, just in the sense that I wonder what she knows, but being happy for her, without having a conscious part in it anymore while knowing I once did conscious knowledge, has made me a kinder, gentler, person. It's not comfortable, and it's made me face up to parts of me I'd much rather forget existed, but I am definitely healing.

There.

Are.

No.

Noble.

Lies.

And this realization that truth handled in hope always heals, and one cannot heal from lies, is a knowledge that is slowly but surely seeping into my bones. Little bit by little bit, more and more, I believe it. The random flashes that she is aware of me, which sometimes get me willing to try living again, are born of a genuine insight, however strange it may be. I need do nothing other than know it and let that knowledge heal me.

Somewhere, somehow, there is another person living a life and loving and living to the utmost, who occasionally looks into the sky, and wonders at the feeling that someone is looking back.

And one day, she will see me and go "I know you". And wave. She will be surrounded by her friends and family and be so happy.

And I, from my own tribe, mine own statistically impossible tribe, will smile. And wave back. And say "Yes, yes you do."

That is something to hope for. Hope does not disappoint.

The Fall of the King of Sota: Chapter Eight

 

I learned more about how to host a session in these last 19 days than I have in the last 20 years. And it was born because of pressure I found to be extreme.

So, first things first: we decided to play Crescendo two weekends a month. We're playing twice in those weekends, because there's too many players for me to run all at once, so the chaos is just incredible. The interlude plotting needed more room to breathe. So, we all talked like adults and figured it out.

I had two weddings to go to. Two weekends, back to back. I have several small children. So. It was going to be a shitshow, logistically. I warned everyone about this, and told them that I couldn't necessarily be on time with interlude orders. It was just going to be too much for me. Everyone gave the green light, told me to go at whatever pace I could.

The following was constructed by just... listening to what people wanted to do, and smashing it all together with a few simple dice rolls.

August 10th-17th

Silvy, after the three days of terror are done (see Chapter 7), helps with the survivors of the demonic possession. It’s contained, and very effectively.

Lord Arriquad grabs any food stores being hoarded, turning them into a City Army on a group of well-guarded wagons. He distributes food from these stores to fighting-men (anyone who joins the City Army) plus a couple of dependents each.

The City Army guards the food-wagons, and react to news of attacks by monsters or the eldritch by showing up and fighting. Fighting-men are more valuable than general civilians. There are regular patrols. They spread the idea that we, the survivors of the destroyed city, are the favoured, graced by Saint Laurentius, destined to conquer new lands - starting with the weak and iniquitous Newport. KING LUCIAN SHALL RULE”, is the declaration of the City Army.

After fording the river, a creature in a cloak, riding a fell beast, announced himself to the refugees. He called himself Abbadon , and claimed Newport as his domain. King Lucian greed to not usurp Abaddon. They merely needed a place to rest, as the peoples of New Sota City were tired. Abaddon withdrew, as the refugees made their way to Newport.

August 18th-27th

A strange man was seen carrying a sack as the convoy got to New Sota City. Silvy and Seren cornered him as he ran, and took the sack. The strange man got away. 

The bag was huge. And squeaked. And moved. 

Sily and Seren burned the bag. 

Suddenly there was a loud incoherent babbling, and the whole convoy turned on them. Miraculously, Silvy got away unscathed. Seren was not so lucky: his head was severely hurt. A kind family took him in. 

The charred corpses of rats were found in the bag, along with human bones.

Abbadon tries to take 100 soldiers from Arriquard for his own force, at the blessing of King Lucian. Warned by Eoc, Lady Marie manages to get ahead of Abbadon's propaganda and stops him. No one follows him.

King Julian, backed by Lady Marie's money, buys some of the slums in the southwest part of Newport, land generously granted by Lord Phillipe.

A healed Seren presents himself to King Julian and Lord Arriquard when they are settled, pledging allegiance.

A night time raid happens on the smithing guild, with a bunch of weapons stolen. The weapons are found very easily in the New Sota City Army.

Teller, head of the farming guild in Newport City, is found dead, smothered by a pillow. Nobody has any idea who it could be.

The forests across the river begin to burn, and it's rumored that something is dancing amidst the flames, singing an insane song.

August 28th: Chapter Eight

Not a single dice was rolled, and yet the tension was here. And the formula was simple: give a goal, give a time limit. It's so simple. As soon as there's a time limit and a general idea of how the world works, everyone starts to game it. They start to ask questions to try and figure out any niche.

This is the first time the players tried to game the Myth itself. And it worked, like a freaking charm. 

Sit down. Create a context. Give a problem. Set a time limit. Let the players figure it out.

Literally nothing else is necessary. If the mechanics of your game don't provide a framework for that, your game is worthless.

Evolving Braunstein Tech: Initial Situations

 

I have decided that the Non-Stop Braunstein is my thing.

That means all players meet regularly, in an evolving conflict, scheming between sessions in a rigorously enforced time schedule. The Judge sets up the intial conflict, maintains fog of war and enforces the general shape of the conflict. 

But there’s not just one kind of conflict. Below are the kinds of conflicts I have found. “Law” is defined as caring for the weak and group cohesion, best exemplified in monarchy. “Chaos” is defined as the triumph of the strongest individual, best exemplified by dictatorship.

If this is your first time being told monarchy and dictatorship are opposed, you got some serious reading to do.

Why Define Them?

Because implications choke communication, long-term. If you use these terms as the beginning of your conversations, to describe, rather than to restrain, everything will work smoother. If you find the game is changing its central kind of conflict, talk about it!

Anyone using this terminology as a straitjacket is not using these terms as intended.

Types of Conflicts… So Far

This list is hardly exhaustive. This is going to go in the Crescendo Core Rulebook. If you know of other types of conflicts, please suggest them!

Law Purifying

All the players are part of Lawful factions, with Chaos pressing in. The players will need to prove who is the most lawful, who takes care of the weak and the group the best. 

Chaos, managed by the Judge, provides a foil and canon against which the lawful prove themselves. If the lawful aren’t doing their jobs, chaos will figure it out quickly and punish the players.

We're currently running this kind of conflict for The Fall of the King of Sota.

Chaos Degenerating

The forces of Chaos have won. The strongest have prevailed… and now we play out Law trying to return. The players get to ride the elevator to Hell, with gusto. It’s a grand catharsis!

The Judge plays out the forces of law attempting to rebuild, with military and culture and civilization trying to renew in the face of the wasteland that is Chaos.

Law vs Chaos

This is really straightforward. Players are divvied up between the two alignments evenly, and whoever wins, wins. The Judge sits back and ensures fair play.

Judgment Day

An end of everything has come. The players are divvied up evenly, and the Judge tries to destroy them, openly.

Red Tape vs Secrecy

From the conversations setting up Rylothstein. A large bureaucracy against a small insurgency. The bureaucracy must survive its red tape so it can find the insurgents, who are flexible but must not be found.

Free for All

From the conversations for the Streetstein. A bunch of equal factions who are trying to win. 

Returning To Tenra Bansho Zero

 

Tenra Bansho Zero is one of the most influential games I have ever read. Its translated titled ("All Things Under Heaven and Earth") is literally what I named this blog after... and I have also never played a full game of it. 

We'll get back to why in a minute. 

But. 

In so many ways, this one game has defined my tastes. At one point, I gave my very nice copy to Pau Villarreal of The Warning. Well, I don't know if she got it. I sent it via the mail, and have to hope it got there. I figured she'd like the setting and it would get her imagination pumped. Hopefully I was right, but we'll never know. Ironically enough, the giving away of this book began an era of reading and investigation into the BR/OSR... which is coming to an end, as I picked up another copy. Not the fancy one. You can't find that one for a reasonable price, not anymore. Pau's got it, and I hope she's enjoying it, assuming she kept it.

The heart of TBZ is The Aiki-Kiai-Karma system. Each character has three Fates, which are these really open-ended statements of character, such as "Emotion: Hatred of Lord Kutuwara", or "My sword is the answer". Very open-ended, very simple stuff. Whenever you do something awesome with these Fates that everyone else likes, they can give you Aiki chits. You can spend Aiki, but it's not very powerful. However, if you wait until a good moment, you can convert Aiki into Kiai, which functionally does the same thing as Aiki, but you get a ton more of it. Like, 5x-6x more. Tons. If you spend Kiai, it gets marked as Karma. If you accumulate 108 Karma you became an Asura, a demon who is utterly incapable of change. And you then hand your character sheet to the GM, who then uses him to torment the other players.

It cannot be understated how much fun this one little system is. Players handing each other chits, which they then have to hoard in order to be of use, and then have to be careful about spending, is... there's nothing like it. There just isn't. People begin to lean into what the other players like, creating a feedback loop where everyone slowly gets more and more into their character. This enthusiasm transmutes into power in the game... and can lead to tragedy. There's something so layered, so genuine, so beautiful, about this loop. No other game comes close to it. Burning Wheel gets close, and Crescendo gets closer yet, but nothing beats the immediacy and depth  of Tenra Bansho Zero.

The setting book is also the single best setting book I've ever read. Ever. It is a blanket of loose ends, open spaces, unsaid things, and tragedies. There's tons of mundane details in here, all of which are just right. It is the only setting book I've ever read that justifies its existence, and we'll get back to why that is in a second, as well.

That's two grenades. Jeez.

The setting book is short, sweet, and knows exactly how much information to dole out. I could probably make scenarios out of this sucker for years.

Two and a half grenades!

Let's pull one now! Why did I give the game away? To a person who doesn't know me? Well, simply put: I couldn't figure out a way to pitch it to people! The hyper Asian setting is not something that actually appealed to my players at the time. The mechanics are great, but we had Burning Wheel, which scratches a very specific itch, and we now have Crescendo, which scratches that itch better. TBZ is not a campaign game. The mechanics aren't suited to it, period. The changes are so deliberately rapid that you shouldn't necessarily make sequels with the same characters. I didn't have anyone who needed just a quick pick-me-up.

So I gave it away. Like I said, I hoped Pau would get something out of the setting book.

After that, a funny thing happened: I started to slowly investigate the BR/NU/O-SR. I kinda figured I could find something to pick up the "adventure game" niche that TBZ so nicely filled, which Burning Wheel and Crescendo so definitely don't. And... well... I didn't, overall. I got ACKSII and 1e and Wight-Box, which is actually pretty good! Not to mention the Into the Odd family of games! I love them and will use them! But... they didn't scratch the itch. Not the very specific itch that was slowly developing: a game I could sorta pour myself into, and bring out for short bursts, with people either willing to take a chance or okay with just doing a one-shot. And, honestly, I wanted to give this incredible game another chance.

So. I picked it up again. I am just going to go and make a scenario, walk into my workplace, hand them the character sheets, and tell them they're playing. They'll play, because they're bored and we have nothing else to do at some very particular hours. And we'll play. And we'll have a blast. I know we will, because they trust my taste and are just bored enough. Just.

And then I’ll do it again.

And again.  

Maybe that’s the point. After years of circling this game—giving it away, hunting for something that could replace it, finally buying it back—I’m done waiting for the perfect table or the perfect pitch. Tenra Bansho Zero has already shaped how I think about play, about character, about the quiet tragedy of becoming something you can’t take back. Now I just want to see what happens when other people get their hands on those chits and those Fates.

I’ll throw it at my coworkers. 

I’ll throw it at my kids. And if it works even half as well as I remember it working on the page, I’ll finally stop treating this game like a secret I was never quite ready to share.

Onward!

1:1 Time With John McGowan

 

This was an amazing conversation I got to have with John McGowan! Thanks, John, for coming and talking!

The Fall of the King of Sota: Chapter Seven

 

This chapter session was a chef's kiss. It took chapter six and utterly turned it on its head. There's really not a lot more to be said, as the session really does speak for itself.

I suppose the one bit of commentary I will put in is that the role of Weaver really comes into play here. The two players are corralled back to each other, where their natural aspects naturally rub against each other.

This is a ridiculously easy game to run. Just herd the cats back into the octagon, and watch!

Chapter Seven (8/9)

The Fall of the King of Sota: Chapter Six

 

This continues to be the greatest gaming I have ever had. The last two weeks on the Discord have been some of the best and chaotic scheming I've ever seen, leading to a short but extremely climactic Chapter, where everything changed.

We are down to one mortal city: the criminal haven of Newport. And we have an entire city's worth of people at it from New Sota City.

July 24-August 7

People were going back and forth in the DMs for the longest time. But it all came down to this one short statement:

A high-stakes propaganda war between King Julian, Father Laurentius, Arriquard , and Lady Marie played out. King Julian and his helpers began to spread news of Lady Marie's debauched evil, and how cruelly she had used him. Against all expectations, Lady Marie pre-empted them with propaganda of how much help she had actually done for the rice farmers and the city, and her adopted daughter was much talked about in terms of her generosity. 

Arriquard successfully began raising an army for King Lucian's church, which was being set up against Mother Elise.

BUT ON AUGUST 4TH

Were-crocodiles, an entire army of them, invaded from Montport. Turns out they had totally taken over that city! And they showed up out of the blue! However, thanks to Arriquard's efforts in the previous five days, there just so happened to be a standing army that was forming.

The fighting was intense, and many died. However, New Sota City prevailed, and the were-crocodiles were driven away.

It all came down to one problem: when were the were-crocodiles showing up? It took some time to figure out exactly how it worked out... but it just so happened to occur just when everyone else was at enough of a critical mass to where it didn't turn into a total slaughter. And then the defenders rolled really high.

Chapter Six: August 7th

The fallout of this Chapter Session cannot be understated. Two of the most chaotic characters in the whole game are dead, and to save everyone else. New Sota City has been abandoned. There's an entire train of people heading to the worst city of the old world... which happens to be the last one.

What could go wrong?