Gamebook store

Friday, 21 August 2026

News flashes

A grab-bag of news today. First there's my interview with Riccardo Scaringi above, in which we talk about Vulcanverse, Lovecraft, Buffy, Rifkin's Festival, The Seventh Seal, Captain America: Civil War, robotics, post-scarcity, the simulation hypothesis, Whispers Beyond the Stars, and a few other matters.

(The "OK, boomer" moment: at 6m59s I say that Alex Dragan, the protagonist, could be male or female. What I should have said is they can be any gender. Consider me corrected.)

Other news: James Desborough's Stray Crows is currently on Kickstarter. This is a roleplaying game set in the Japan of the Sengoku and early Edo periods. Unlike most Japan-set RPGs, it isn't populated with 21st century Westerners cosplaying at being ronin and ninja. Mr Desborough believes in striving for authenticity, as do I. We may not be able to fully recreate the mindset of a 16th century samurai, but we can surely do better than James Clavell and Justin Marks, at least. Back Stray Crows now if you care at all about real roleplaying. I also think it's the most elegant and dramatic set of rules designed yet for such a setting, and the proof of that is in this sample combat.

One of my favourite podcasts is Fantastic Fights. Hieronymous (sic) J Doom's reviews of gamebooks are excellent and his insights into gamebook design are useful even to a forty-year veteran of the field like me. Mr (or maybe Doctor?) Doom mostly covers Fighting Fantasy books, which I'll confess aren't my cup of tea, but this month he's taken a look at Mark Smith's Coils of Hate. That was one of the books in the Virtual Reality series, my own titles from which have been resurrected as Critical IF, but Mark's Coils of Hate and Green Blood are hard to find in print these days.

Coils is a particularly tricky one, so here are some tips on how to survive it. Listening to HJD's very smart analysis of the book's problems was a bit triggering for me. I did make a half-hearted effort to get it into vaguely playable shape, given that some of the handwritten pages just ended with lines like: "Various options here, turn to ?" I was at my desk at 7am every day for a fortnight to devote a couple of pre-breakfast hours to trying to make sense of it while also facing a deadline for a book of my own. The published version of Coils of Hate was an appalling mess even so, and I'd rather have been hired as official editor and been given a month to fix it properly, but the publisher wasn't paying anything for that and they refused to wait, hence the botched version that still makes me want to hide in a storm cellar every time it's mentioned. Here's an account of my very minimal involvement in the book and how I'd have advised Mark to restructure it if there'd been more time.

What I do think is that Coils has some of the best writing, best characterization, and best worldbuilding you'll see in any gamebook even to this day. And Mark had the courage to tackle a serious issue -- not just intolerance, but the way that hatred and tribalism are auto-immune diseases of society that eventually harm not just the scapegoated target group but everybody else, even the haters. It's a long, long way from the old man in the tavern who tells you to collect five items so you can beat the evil guy who wants to take over the world.

Now that we're talking about Coils, there's something I ought to clear up. I sometimes get credited with being Mark's co-author, so just to be clear: I had no hand in the writing. I didn't even rewrite any of the sections I was given in hand-written form; I just typed them up and tried to figure out how to connect one to another when all I had to go on was "turn to ?" It's all Mark's work. The flashes of real genius are his. If only he'd written it as a novel instead of a gamebook! Luckily Stuart Lloyd has rescued the book, doing all the editing work I didn't have time for thirty years ago, and he has made his version available free on DriveThruRPG. Without him, Coils of Hate would probably have been forgotten. Stuart, you are a star.

In other news, the chapbook series from Fabled Lands Publishing now has over a dozen titles, as illustrated above, so if you suffer from the collecting bug those might be worth a look, either on Amazon or DriveThruRPG.

Lastly, a new Casket of Fays is always a treat, and the latest issue features the usual fine selection of articles including an in-depth look at Gully's Inn by Shaun Hately. It's a useful location for any medieval fantasy setting, whether or not you use the Dragon Warriors or Jewelspider rules. There's even a map. What are you waiting for?

Thursday, 20 August 2026

A Fun Guy From Yuggoth


It's H.P. Lovecraft's 136th birthday, so here's a little song he might have enjoyed. (He was tickled by "Yes! We Have No Bananas" in his own Latin translation, so I think I'm justified in saying that.) Here are the lyrics if you want to sing along:

Greetings from the fourth dimension.
(Hush now, keep the tension)
Just a chap with simple needs,
Sown from prehistoric seeds.
No need for alarm, no need for fuss.
I only want to be like us!

I'm just a fun guy from Yuggoth!
A fungal star in your orbit!
A little spore, a little damp,
A cosmic glow beneath your lamp.
Don't mind the shadows on the wall.
I've come to bloom and stand quite tall.
I've come to bloom and stand quite tall.

I love the drizzle and the fog.
(It's marvelous for the mycelial log.)
I've brought some geometries
To plant among the garden trees
Just a quirky hobby, don't you see?
Building shrines for entity!

I'm just a fun guy from Yuggoth!
A fungal star in your orbit!
A little spore, a little damp,
A cosmic glow beneath your lamp.
Don't mind the shadows on the wall.
I've come to bloom and stand quite tall.
I've come to bloom and stand quite tall.

The mind is soft, the brain is bright
(Soft and bright...)
A lovely snack for fungal night.
I'll take your cortex, save your soul
(Save your soul...)
In a lovely canister, whole!

I'm just a fun guy from Yuggoth!
A fungal star in your orbit!
A little spore, a little damp!
A cosmic glow beneath your lamp!
Don't mind the shadows on the wall!
I've come to bloom and stand quite tall!
I've come to bloom and stand quite tall!

And if a Mi-Go is your preferred amigo, the full-colour paperback of Dagon Warriors is still on sale.

Friday, 14 August 2026

The future's not ours to see

Whispers Beyond The Stars is set twenty-five years from now in one possible future. I wouldn't bet on that being the actual future, history being such a squirmy and chaotic thing, but I’m always interested to hear forecasts of what life is going to be like. Elon Musk claims to think that money won’t matter by 2036. I don’t think he really believes that, but he might think he believes it. Quite possibly he was thrilled as a teenager by Star Trek’s depiction of a post-scarcity society. Adult Elon probably doesn’t realize that the Federation is a socialist utopia, socialism being a term that makes him lose his shit, but the dreams of teen Elon are still sparking away dimly in the depths of that ketamine-treated brain.

Ten years might be a stretch, especially to attain super-intelligent AGI, so let’s stick with Whispers' longer horizon of 2050. With advanced robotics and very good AI, labour might be effectively free. Even energy might be free if (a big if, this) we have controlled fusion. What won’t be free? Living space for one. That apartment overlooking Central Park will still be beyond the means of most. Minerals that only need labour to extract would be more or less free, but unfortunately the rare earths needed for electronics aren’t among them, so your household robot won’t be free unless it has a very different kind of electronic brain from those we can build now.

So this is post-scarcity with a jagged edge. And by the way we in the developed world already have a post-scarcity society from the perspective of the poorer nations. Elon Musk talks about “universal high income” -- no mere UBI for him, you see. Hang on, though. A billion people live on less than $3 a day while the Western World has a median income more than twenty times that. We’re not distributing the world’s wealth fairly now, so why would that change by 2050?

If robotics really takes off, there might be a vast workforce that’s effectively slave labour. There might also be a vast slave army. Those robots will be owned by the likes of Musk and/or by the governments of the major powers. Will they dole out UBI? That depends on who controls the weapons. You’re an absurdly rich person with a private military and you only have to reach out your hand for anything you need. How much money will you throw to the masses to spare yourself the inconvenience of waging continual war on them?

In Whispers Beyond The Stars we used a different template for our future world. Not Roddenberry’s Federation but Ancient Rome. There you have wealth concentrated into the hands of a few, labour (but not warfare) largely carried out by slaves, and UBI in the form of the dole. Bread and circuses keep the people acquiescent while the oligarchs enjoy all the luxury.

What about Elon Musk’s prediction that artificial intelligence will exceed human intelligence by 2031? “There really won't be anything that AI can’t do better than humans apart from being human.” And he thinks (or claims to think, or believes he thinks) that means AI will be in charge: “In the same way that if the difference in intelligence between AI and humans is vastly greater than the difference in intelligence between AI and chimpanzees, it's hard to imagine that the chimpanzees would be in charge.”

Is that so? Intelligent people don’t run this planet. Really they don’t; just take a look at it. The US has a government that opposes vaccination and mRNA research. Russia is drilling for self-replacing oil on the basis of a theory barely less barmy than some of the Nazis’ pseudoscience ideas. Politicians get elected without even trying to make any intelligent arguments, knowing that flattery, lies and hatemongering will stand them in far better stead at the ballot box than reason ever could -- or else they seize power by force and install dictators who are never chosen on the strength of their intellect. Meanwhile the vast majority of smart people have no chance of doing anything with their intelligence because they belong to the two-fifths of humanity that has to make do with 1% of global wealth.

I sound like I’m disdainful of Elon Musk’s theories, and I certainly wouldn’t call him a genius, as Zanny Minton Beddoes has, because I don’t use the term genius so promiscuously. (Shakespeare, Newton, Einstein, maybe a few others; that's it.) Most of my friends are at least as smart as Elon seems to be, and with the added bonus that most of them know what they don't know. But I agree with him when he says, “The most important thing for AI safety is [for it] to be maximally truth-seeking and curious. If that's the case I think it will foster humanity.”

That is, it will be morally better than us; a low bar, as I’ve argued before.

One remark Elon Musk made I found especially revealing: “I've said many times I think work is going to be optional. Maybe a good comparison would be gardening. You don't have to grow vegetables in in your garden. You can go to the store and they're going to be pristine vegetables, or you could grow vegetables in your garden and they will actually be less perfect. Your tomatoes are not going to be as plump and juicy as the ones at the store. They’ll look a little artisanal. But if you go to a friend's house and they make dinner with vegetables from their garden, it's a nice touch.”

I know people who grow their own fruit and vegetables in the garden. They are much, much tastier than anything I can buy in any of the stores that I can afford. So presumably Elon Musk’s cook has access to stores where they can source vegetables even better than that. There’s no better illustration of how detached from everyday reality you can get if you have three-quarters of a trillion dollars.

Friday, 7 August 2026

Who ate all the spies?

My roleplaying group used to cut loose up to four times a year with seasonal one-shots. It's a tradition that died out in the pandemic never to fully resume, though we still try to fit in a special around Christmas -- almost the only roleplaying I get to do these days.

Fifteen years ago I ran a scenario called “A Long Time Dying”. The idea was based on another Christmas tradition, at least of my childhood Christmases, when there would always be a James Bond movie on TV between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day. I don’t think it’s essential for Christmas movies or Christmas one-shot games to be set at Christmas, although for this scenario I buckled. Cold War stories always benefit from a touch of frost.

The game is set in 1962 and the player-character cast list will give you the general idea:

I thought that would tell my players what to expect, but I’d forgotten that most of them weren’t born until the 1970s, so probably only Smiley meant anything at all. That may explain why the game veered off into a rather Roger Mooreish arched-eyebrow take on Cold War espionage, but – well, these one-shots were never fully serious. I know a lot of people prefer silly games, but for me there's no point in roleplaying unless you're going to take it seriously. Specials like this, though, are just for fun.

I've changed the scenario title to justify a Shirley Bassey theme song. So here's

THE RHYTHM DIVINE

Monday, Dec 17, 1962                    

(Music track: Nunc Dimittis by Arvo Pärt.)

(This is a “pre-title” sequence that is presented to the players without them being present in character. Normally I’d have no truck with such metafictional malarkey, but it’s a one-shot. Come to that, I don’t normally include music tracks in my scenarios either.)

A railway station near Haskovo, southern Bulgaria. It’s the early morning, just before daybreak. Troops from the nearby 4th Fighter-Bomber Air Base wait in the cold. Gritty snow falls, skittering like dust over the icy cold platform.

Then: the sound of a train horn. Lights appear out of the blue pre-dawn dusk. The train pulls into the station. Red Army soldiers jump down and the two commanders salute each other.

A tarpaulin is removed from one of the carriages to reveal a large bomb, about 8m long by 2m wide, with the single word царь painted on the side.

Sergeants shout orders, their voices sounding short-tempered and nervous. A crane is lowered and begins to unload the bomb, which swings wildly to one side, the support frame just missing a row of soldiers who have to throw themselves to the ground.

The crane sweeps across the platform, smacking the bomb into the station wall. The frame buckles and the bomb falls. Absurdly, given the size and nature of the bomb, everyone dives for cover. The bomb strikes the iron-hard ground –

And cracks, with the sound of splintering wood. The Soviet colonel picks himself up, sweeps the snow off his coat, and strides over. In gloved hands he lifts part of the wreckage: painted wood, filled with sand for ballast.

He looks into the east, where the dull glimmer of dawn barely penetrates the heavy shelf of snow clouds, and perhaps imagines the gulag where he will be sent for this.

Music as we fade to black: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service


THE SETTING: 1962

This is the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Both the USA and the USSR are aware of the need to safeguard against such incidents in the future, so when a new threat emerges only a couple of months later, the best operatives from both sides of the Iron Curtain are assigned to an international team to track down the diabolical mastermind behind it.

NATO

  • USA                President: John F Kennedy
  • GB                   Prime Minister: Harold Macmillan
  • France:            President: Charles de Gaulle
  • W Germany:   Chancellor: Konrad Adenauer

EASTERN BLOC

  • USSR               First Secretary: Nikita Khrushchev; Chairman of the Presidium: Leonid Brezhnev
  • Rumania:        General Secretary: Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej
  • Bulgaria:         General Secretary: Todor Zhivkov

NON-ALIGNED

  • Yugoslavia      Marshal Josip Tito
  • Albania           First Secretary: Enver Hoxha
  • Tunisia            President: Habib Bourguiba

Thursday, Dec 20      

(Music track: The Avengers theme.)                                                      

Whitehall on a grey morning with snow falling outside. Control waits with George Smiley and Colonel Ross. John Steed arrives and the introductions are made. A few minutes later, Harry Palmer looks around the door – “Late as usual, Palmer,” says Ross irritably, waving him to a chair.

Control relates what Smiley has found out from his Bulgarian contacts about the stolen bomb. Control and Smiley have made an approach to the KGB to assist them in looking for the bomb. The Soviets have agreed, but on the condition that their man will head up the joint operation. Steed, Palmer and Smiley are to fly to Berlin, where they will meet up with two more international operatives codenamed “Tailor” and “Thief”.

  • London to Berlin: flight 2 hrs.
  • Paris to Moscow: flight 4hrs; train 36 hours; car 72 hours averaging 60 mph.
  • Berlin to Moscow: flight 3 hrs; train 27 hrs; car 49 hrs averaging 60 mph.

Thursday, Dec 20

(Music: The Man from UNCLE theme.)

It’s mid-afternoon when they reach Berlin. It’s icy cold but not snowing. Their liaison in Berlin is Dr Franz Six, a former Nazi who now works for British Intelligence.

Smiley, Steed and Palmer are to make contact with their colleagues at the Adlon Kempinski Hotel. At reception they are told that “Herr Solo” is in the coffee bar. Smiley goes through and nods to Napoleon Solo just as a man coming in off the street recognizes Smiley, sees that he knows Solo (whom he was coming to meet) and rushes out.

The man is Otto Vessler, an East German spy whom Solo has been reeling in for weeks. In the west he poses as an industrialist, but with his cover blown he’s going to make a dash for the Wall. He grabs a motorcycle and the chase is on…

(Music: The Saint.)

Halfway through the chase, Simon Templar turns up. He’s been tracking Vessler as part of his own private investigation, so may take some convincing to team up with the others.


Their flight leaves Berlin at 5:30, arriving in Moscow at 11:30 pm (ie 3 hours ahead of Berlin time).


Thursday, Dec 20

(Music: Diamonds Are Forever.)

Midnight in Red Square. Snow on the ground, but a crystal clear sky full of stars above the Kremlin – and among those stars the small but growing collection of satellites launched by the superpowers, including Telstar which was put up in the summer.

They are taken to meet Illya Kuryakin, along with an academician called Andrei Sakharov, who explains:

“The bomb is based on the Teller-Ulam design and has a yield of 100 megatons. That’s three thousand times the combined yield of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs – or, to put it in terms of conventional explosive, twenty times the total of all explosives used in WW2. The explosion would cause third degree burns at a distance of 100 km, stone buildings would be destroyed up to 55 km. Two such weapons would equal the detonation of Krakatoa.”

Brezhnev comes in. He’s wrapped up in a thick fur coat and there’s a waft of vodka on his breath. “We have a captive spy at the Black Sea facility. He could be useful and it’s on your way, a bit. You’ll have to spring him, though, as SMERSH will never give the nod to releasing him.”

  • Moscow to Odessa: flight 2 hrs; train (HSR) 8 hrs
  • Odessa to The Village: 2 hrs by car
  • Berlin to Moscow: flight 3 hrs; train 27 hrs; car 49 hrs averaging 60 mph.

Incidentally this is the first time Solo and Kuryakin have met each other. U.N.C.L.E. is still a few years in the future, and in fact this adventure paves the way for its formation.

THE VILLAGE                              midday, Dec 21?

(Music: The Prisoner.)

To get Number Six away from the village, they need to get past Rover (the Water Balloon Monster):


Whether Number Six’s real identity is John Drake is up to the player to decide.


THE TRAIN ROUTE

10 hours across Romania

(Music: From Russia With Love)

They set out from Kharkiv in the south-west USSR, via Kirovohrad and Chisinau, into Romania at Iasi and then via Bacau and Brasov.

Just beyond Zarnesti in Romania, the train carrying the bomb entered a mile-long tunnel through the Carpathians. Thereafter it went via Bucharest without stopping, crossed the Bulgarian border at Ruse, and from there via Veliko Tarnovo and Stara Zamora to its destination.

Investigation inside the tunnel at Zarnesti discovers an apparatus built into the tunnel roof. The mechanism has been removed but it was obviously recently excavated and a large piece of machinery was housed here. Caves lead off from the excavated area.

Investigation: Some discarded screws. Engineer roll to conclude they are West German.

Investigation: Part of the apparatus is found – part of a plate scraped off against the rough walls of the cave, stamped with “CHIRO-” (from Chiroptics GmbH).

Investigation by questioning the driver (Engineer Boris Utkin) or officer in charge (Col Yuri Lagunov) reveals that the line was blocked by a fallen tree just after the tunnel, forcing them to stop for about fifteen minutes while it was cleared.

Investigation further along the track after the tunnel reveals a disused branch line that has been recently uncovered – the line towards Yugoslavia, sealed off when the two countries fell out in the 1950s. It leads to Dubrovnik.

Investigation before the tunnel reveals a siding where a train was recently (engine oil on ground). Somebody waited a while (cheroot stubs; Connoiseur roll to identify as 25-cent Marsh Wheeling stogies).

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED:
Boswell Brontë’s mercenaries (all ex-US special forces, led by a stogie-smoking WW2 commando called Major Dugan) swapped the bomb for their fake, then when the train had gone they brought up their own carriage, loaded the bomb, went on and used to branch line into Yugoslavia, hooked up with a train carrying the circus troupe, and smuggled the bomb out as fireworks bound for Venice.

Investigation of ships out of Dubrovnik into western ports on Dec 18-19: the Suske, carrying the Carobnaci od Vatromet circus troupe, arrived in Venice on Dec 19.

Monday, Dec 24

Venice. A cold wind blows across the lagoon. The local CIA agent is Candy Sweetmeat, a young “swinger” type. She’s eager to please and very nice, so no doubt the bad guys must kill her at some point. (Or try to kill her, if she’s a player-character.)

Boswell Brontë is giving a fireworks display on the Grand Canal on Christmas Eve, which also happens to be the night of the new moon. If the characters attend, they will see Brontë give a rambling speech about how he met his wife “here in Europe” seven years ago tonight. That’s followed by Mrs Brontë lighting a champagne-bottle-styled firework that begins the show.

One part is particularly impressive: the Yugoslav acrobat troupe do a trapeze juggling act over the canal, throwing lit fireworks to each other that are timed to go off in mid-air at the exactly right moment and orientation to create the highlights of the display.

If the characters have been at all indiscreet about their investigations, Miss Hazzard sneaks in while they’re watching the fireworks and plants a bomb in their hotel suite (Observation roll at -5 to spot, character involved only.)

OR

They might sneak into the Brontës’ suite (though in fact they’re going back to the yacht after the show) in which case they may have to deal with Miss Hazzard and an appropriate number of mooks.

EITHER WAY

They get to discover some finely ground glass that seems to have been trodden into the carpet on somebody’s shoes.

Investigation of the glass factory on Murano owned by Chiroptics GmbH discovers glass with microcracks (Observation roll) caused by sonic effects (Physics roll). The sonic equipment itself has been moved out. (This was where Brontë’s scientists worked out the correct array of parabolic reflectors.)

If Brontë needs a rapid departure from the city, either as an outright escape or simply if the referee wants to create a dramatic moment if the characters are closing in with a view to confronting him, he leaves by hydroplane on the Grand Canal.


CRUISE TO TUNIS                      takes 48 hours -> arrive midday Friday 28th

Investigation: if they talk to Boswell, they discover that he is fascinated by Rome’s struggle for supremacy with Carthage, and how he admires Hannibal – who nearly dealt with “those upstarts”.

The Jericho leaves Venice at 9am on Dec 26 and arrives in Tunis midday Dec 28.

Investigation: Brontë International has a facility 50 miles south of Tunis where they are building arches of various sizes using synthetic rock (similar to sandstone).

  • Observation and Physics/Engineer: the arches are curved and would fit together to create a large parabolic surface with a radius of over 50m.

Investigation: the company books show that enough arches were made here to build hundreds of similar parabolas.

  • Physics/Engineer roll at -5: An array of such reflectors would have an effect similar to one enormous reflector hundreds of miles long.
  • Physics roll at -5: The size of the parabolas suggests they are designed to focus or reflect sound of low wavelength.

Investigation: an Accountant looking into Brontë’s business discovers he has a network of shell companies in the finance sector. On a roll at -5 they can see that many of these companies have been shorting US stocks and bonds.

The opening night of the opera is 8pm on Dec 29. The stage is spectacular, being a floating platform hundreds of feet across set in the bay, complete with replica backdrop of ancient Rome.

The opera is attended by Tunisian President Habib Bourguiba, Foreign Minister Mongi Slim, and King Mohammed Idris of Libya. (There is talk of the two countries merging into one, which would signal a rise in the price of oil, but that’s actually a red herring.)

The opera stage is self-propelled and submersible, docking with Boswell’s undersea base (see below) in which the bomb is located. Of course, at the time the bomb detonates (6am on Dec 31) he plans to be safely inland at his villa in Corsica.

THE MASTER PLAN

Boswell plans to detonate the bomb on the sea bed, where an array of parabolic reflectors will direct the resulting pressure wave through the Straits of Gibraltar, and across the Atlantic, where it will create a tsunami that will wreak devastation along the eastern seaboard of the United States. Boswell has heavily shorted US stocks and the dollar, and stands to make billions when Wall Street crashes.

THE UNDERWATER BASE

The “stage” docks with the underwater base where the bomb is located. Brontë plans to detach from the bomb housing, return to the surface, escape by helicopter, scuppering the stage so that it sinks to the sea bed with the characters trapped on board.

The characters will need to break out of the stage, survive the pressure (luckily they’re on the saddle of seabed connecting Tunisia and Sicily, not on the deep bed), get to the bomb base, gain entry, disarm the bomb, and return to the surface.


THE CORSICAN VILLA

Visitors arrive by helicopter. It’s a replica of Nero’s palace in the Bay of Naples.

Monday, 11pm, New Year’s Eve: FINAL JEOPARDY IN MONACO                       

Three of the circus acrobats come to kill whichever of the characters is “man of the match” – so out-of-game it’s kind of a reward. Think of the final jeopardy scenes traditional in 007 movies.

That character is taking a shower while the others are waiting in the casino. He notices a slight ruffling of the shower curtain as the balcony door is opened and closed.


Game notes:

The players were all characters in our long-running Immortal Spartans campaign, although this tongue-in-cheek one-shot was not canonically part of the "real" campaign. That explains the title, "A Long Time Dying", which felicitously both sounds like a Bond title and describes a 2500 year lifespan.

Being Spartans from Thermopylae, all the characters were male even though the players were not. But that fits with the assumptions of high adventure in 1962. If you have players who prefer female characters there are some from the period who you could use, eg Dr Cathy Gale from The Avengers

The scenario originally appeared on my Patreon page; you can join as a free member if strapped for roubles.

The stats are given in GURPS 4e terms because that's what I used originally, but it should be simple enough to adapt the scenario to any system. (Other options: Classified, Cold Shadows, and Mercenaries, Spies & Private Eyes.) I usually don't care for what are now called narrative games (it's good that they encourage improvisation, but I prefer character-playing to storyteller-playing) and the only capers I enjoy are the sort that go on pizzas, but I recently played in a Blades '68 one-shot that was a real hoot and a thorough pleasure, a kind of gaming crossbreed of Spy and Hudson Hawk, and I can't deny that those Forged in the Dark based rules deliver a lot tighter and brisker gaming experience for one-shots. Given that you're only going to be playing these characters the once and they're all daft caricatures of the classic fictional originals, it's barely roleplaying anyway. So why not?

Regarding the music, if you're not a purist then there are some funked-up versions of some of the tracks here.

Finally, if your players attempt to defuse to bomb at the bottom of the Mediterranean, as mine did, here's the track for that.

Wednesday, 5 August 2026

Stray Crows now soaring high

"Japanese folklore is not especially interested in fitting itself into tidy categories. Gods resemble spirits. Spirits become monsters. Animals become people. People become considerably worse things. And an object that exists long enough may well develop awareness, resentment, and maybe a grievance about how often it has been used to boil socks. Some of these tales are terrifying. Some are ridiculous. Quite a few are both at once. There are umbrella monsters, lamp monsters, haunted tools. There are foxes with very, very complicated private lives. There are creatures whose principal supernatural power appears to just be scaring you and running away. Such is Japanese mythology."

And:

"Ninja are not being treated as a separate species of magical black-pajamaed elf -- or anything. There aren't really ninja. There are shinobi, but the legend of the ninja is always useful. Espionage, infiltration, sabotage, disguise, and assassination are things that characters can learn to do regardless. The black trousers are optional, and they don't cause a class transformation."

I love everything Jim Desborough is saying about Stray Crows and I'm backing it to the katana hilt. If a Japanese RPG designed with real love for the subject matter appeals, you'll probably want to jump over to Kickstarter and join me. The game was fully funded within a couple of hours of launch and Jim has written all the books already, so you can be sure that this is one of those Kickstarter campaigns that really will deliver.

Friday, 31 July 2026

Water babies


The kappa of The Eye of the Dragon, which eventually found their way into Dragon Warriors, owe very little apart from their watery habitat to the creatures of Japanese folklore. For one thing they live in the sea, whereas Japanese kappa haunt ponds and streams. Not to mention the unhealthy obsession with mortal posteriors, as in the illustration above where a kappa is looking at an bow trap baited with a corpse whose arse is positioned directly under the arrow tip.

The way it came about was this. I probably first came across kappa (the original variety) either in Richard A Lupoff’s Sword of the Demon or the roleplaying game Bushido. As the setting of The Eye of the Dragon is vaguely Graeco-Egyptian, at least architecturally, and kappa is a Greek letter, some circuit tripped in my brain. That combined with The Tempest’s “of his bones are coral made; those are pearls that were his eyes” and gave us the DW kappa.

For our Tetsubo book (I won’t recap the story here, there are enough old posts about it) Jamie and I naturally had to include to genuine Japanese kappa, supposedly spawned from the ghosts of the Heike after the clan’s destruction at the sea battle of Dan-no-ura.

According to the Morokoshi Kinmō Zui, these creatures resemble a small child or monkey with a back entirely covered in scales, look like a tiger when resting on the sand, and have long claws that they keep hidden in the water. But folk tales, like dreams, are elusive and protean; another description claims the kappa has the body of a tortoise, the limbs of a frog, and the head of a monkey. Just to confuse things even more, the Suiko (a Bugaku theatrical mask) depicts the creature with flat ears, a pointed eagle nose, and a coxcomb covered with tiger's skin.

In the river of Kawachi Mura, a kappa was once caught in the girth of a horse. After being rendered harmless by spilling its fluid, it was forced to sign a bond promising never to attack a man, woman, child, or beast again. Another tale tells of Rokusuke of Keyamura, a retainer of Taiko, a strongman who captured a kappa. In prints he is seen surrounded by a number of these creatures.

Poems by Sugawara no Michizane were held in great esteem in Kyushu as protection against the kappa. Before departing for exile in Kyushu in 901 AD, Michizane cast a final glance at his plum trees and composed the following verses:

Kochi fukaba Niwoi okoseyo Ume no hana Aruji nashi tote Haruna wasurezo.

The sources translate this as:

"When the eastern breeze passes, load her with perfume O blossoms of my plum trees; even though the master is far away, never forget the spring."

According to legend, the poem was so powerful that one of the plum trees uprooted itself and miraculously flew to Chikuzen to be with him. This tree became known as Tobi Ume, or the "jumping plum tree". In exile, Michizane was crossing a river when a kappa seized his horse’s bridle and tried to drag him underwater. Michizane sliced off the creature’s hand. The mummified hand can be viewed to this day at the Kitano Tenmangū Shrine in Kurume, Fukuoka.

That’s all a long preamble to the Tetsubo entry for kappa, which (like the baku and gaki) I have converted to Dragon Warriors rules.

Kappa

Kappa are amphibious goblins that inhabit the rivers, lakes and ponds of the Ikaido islands. Honourable but vicious, they prey on the blood of land-dwelling creatures -- not just mankind, but also cattle and horses. Their favourite sustenance, however, is the blood of human children. They drink this through the rectum, so if a drowned corpse with a distended anus is found this is always blamed (on the whole justifiably) on the kappa. These creatures are ferociously proud of their martial ability. They will sometimes challenge a person to single combat, and if the kappa is bested it will undertake to teach secret skills to its opponent. It is important to be very exact about the terms of a duel, as kappa are sticklers for the letter of an agreement and if they can gain any advantage (such as by insisting the duel take place underwater) they will not hesitate to do so. Kappa are not communal. Always encountered singly, they are the Oriental equivalent of the kelpie of Elleslandic folklore: a genius loci, really a water sprite rather than a simple water-dwelling animal.

Physique: Kappa are spindly beings rather like monkeys, except that they have no fur but instead are covered with silvery-grey or yellow-green scales, like those of a fish. Their hands are webbed and, in some cases at least, a carapace like a tortoise’s shell protects the kappa’s upper body. Kappa have a bowl-shaped depression in the top of their heads. This is used to carry water when the kappa emerges on to dry land, as otherwise it would quickly lose its strength.

Behaviour: Kappa fear fire, which desiccates their bodies. A kappa faced with brandished flame must roll 6 or less on d20 or give ground. Any fire-based attack which strikes a kappa, whether or not it inflicts damage, dries its body; it loses 1 Health Point and suffers a cumulative −1 from ATTACK until it can next immerse itself.

Special Rules: Kappa breathe underwater and are excellent swimmers. Either through sorcery or stealth, they are seldom seen on their excursions to human settlements. Renowned for their fondness for cucumbers, they can be bribed or distracted by an offering of them; the kappa resists the temptation only if it rolls 17 or more on d20.

They are able to survive short forays onto land by means of the hollow on their heads, which holds water to sustain them. If this water is spilled, the kappa quickly becomes too weak even to move. It is possible to trick a kappa into spilling its water simply by bowing: kappa are so polite that they almost invariably bow back. Roll d20 against the kappa’s Intelligence of 6; on a success it realises the danger and keeps its head level as it bows, otherwise the water spills out and the kappa can be caught. (As with most creature vulnerabilities, players should not have their characters make use of this ploy without first checking to see if they know it. Obviously anyone can read it here, but the Tetsubo rulebook is unfortunately not available in Yamato! A character must be versed in Shinto doctrine and make a successful Intelligence check at difficulty factor 13 to remember this weakness and exploit it.)

Kappa invariably know Unarmed Combat, Kawashi, Koppo, Atemi-Waza, Heal Wounds and Surgery (skills defined in the Tetsubo rules), and in most cases they are better at these skills than humans. They are also innate spellcasters, casting without gesture, incantation or ingredient — though their magic, like their strength, fails entirely while the water is spilled from their heads. Each kappa has 3d4 Magic Points and commands the following: Curse, Lesser Healing, Command, Tangleroots, Peer, and Illusion (all as the Sorcerer spells of those names, at the usual Magic Point costs); Wave Mastery (as the Water Elementalist spell; a kappa uses it to part or still the waters of its pool, 2 Magic Points); and five lesser dweomers of its own, each costing 1 Magic Point and lasting until a Spell Expiry Roll: marsh-lights (a drift of pale flames that wander where the kappa wills, luring or misleading travellers by night), the zone of cold (a clammy chill within 10m of the kappa, numbing fingers: −1 from ATTACK for all within), the zone of silence (no sound carries within 10m of the kappa), the reek (a concealing fog rises over water within 50m) and dousing (every open flame within 15m gutters out).

As Tetsubo is not going to be out before next year, anyone looking for a good RPG of the Sengoku and early Edo period is advised to check out Stray Crows from Portmortem Studios. The Kickstarter is launching soon and there's a free preview on DriveThruRPG.

Thursday, 30 July 2026

The wrong side of the river

That right there is why I couldn't be doing with The Lord of the Rings. I grew up in England's stockbroker belt, and far too many of our neighbours were smugly insular like those hobbits -- gossip-loving, distrustful of outsiders, and appalled by people who didn't live the way they did. The hobbits of the Shire would all have voted Tory -- or probably Fascist if they got the chance. I didn't mind if Sauron did invade and shake up their lives.

It's what Andy Serkis was trying to say in the recent interview that has caused such an uproar in Guardian-reading circles: "The Shire feels very, very much like a very, a very white, you know..." Mr Serkis mumbled, probably sensing the Damoclean threat of cancellation above his head. "They’re not very concerned about what goes on beyond the borders of the Shire, but they know they don’t want people coming in."

And he's right. That casual xenophobia is what I disliked about the damned hobbits, but it is at the heart of Tolkien's story. If the Shire and every other region of Middle-Earth featured the same multi-ethnic mix as 21st century California then it would be a very different place (quite likely better) and you'd have a different story (quite likely more boring) to tell.

Ten years back, Jamie and I had a TV show that we were developing for the BBC when a partner absconded with all the BBC development money, scuttling our production partnership with Andy Serkis's company. (Small world; Mr Serkis's involvement was just a coincidence.) We needed to come up with a new show in a hurry, and Young Asgard was born. Wanting to give decent opportunities to today's actors, we had a different ethnicity for each realm: Asgard, Jotunheim, Alfheim, and so on. What we didn't do was make every realm the same racial mix, because that would suggest a universe without borders, and therefore free of fixed cultural attitudes and the perpetual knife-edge of conflict.

Personally I want to live in the 23rd century of Gene Roddenberry, not the 21st century of people like Victor Orbán. And I guarantee you Andy Serkis feels the same way. He didn't present us with an ethnically homogenous Shire because he's a nasty old racist. He did it because that's true to the story, and he didn't want to infantilize his movie just to pander to America's pathological issues regarding race. (Though he needn't have made the hobbits white; they could just as well all have been Hausa, or Han, or Inuit, or Tuareg, or Tamil.)

I won't be going to see the movie because I don't give a fig for Gollum or any of those narrow-minded hobbits. But movie-goers aren't interested in seeing Roddenberry's utopian, colour-blind vision of society any more, so I guess we're stuck with endless Tolkien spin-offs.