"Murder Your Darlings" (1890s scenario)

Here’s a Victorian-era roleplaying scenario - and before I say another word, I’d better point out there are spoilers throughout. If you’re going to play it, you'd better stop reading now.

Professor Barker, creator of Tekumel, ran two campaigns. One had the players gallivanting off on interdimensional forays fighting aliens with cosmically evil plans for humanity. The other dealt with the politics and social life of Tsolyanu. If you’re familiar with Dragon Warriors at all, you’ll guess that it’s the low-fantasy option that appeals to me.

It’s particularly a problem with Cthulhu campaigns. If every scenario involves the characters facing an impossibly over-powered monster that drives them mad just by popping its face round a corner, the fun is soon going to pall. What works in Lovecraft’s stories doesn’t work so well in an ongoing campaign, not least because few of his protagonists survive a single encounter with the creatures of the Cthulhu mythos.

In our 1890s campaign, I most enjoyed the early sessions when the characters knew nothing about insanity-inducing aliens. We were investigating a tough serial killer with the ability to vanish in the London fog, and the case revolved around an ancient mummy that various people seemed to believe had magical powers. If that had been a movie, I’d have been content with just a touch of the supernatural, but when it all turns into over-the-top CGI I find I’m less engaged.

Of course, in a Cthulhu campaign there’s no putting the shoggoth back in the bottle, but it struck me that not every adventure needs to present yet another sanity-wrenching encounter from which the characters can only run screaming. So I tried out this scenario in which there’s no supernatural (I should say science fictional, rather, since we're talking about Cthulhu) element whatsoever. A caveat, though: my players, conditioned to expect the Great Old Ones behind every unexplained death, kept veering off into the realms of the fantastic. Instead of thinking Miss Wellbeck was Diana Purdey’s daughter, they suspected a vampire or reptilian shapechanger on the loose. Once you’ve taken the campaign into eldritch territory, it seems, there’s no bringing it back to earth.

INTRODUCTION TO THE CASE

In our campaign, the characters were approached by Sgt Torssen after a memorial service in Abney Park cemetery for a player-character who had died the previous session. Alternatively they could receive a telegram, be met at their club, or otherwise be recruited to the case. The important point is that one of the characters studied Jurisprudence (ie theory of law) at University College, Oxford, under Professor Arthur Goodhart.

The character is approached by Sergeant William Torssen, Oxford CID. He has been sent by his “governor”, Inspector Mordray, to request the character’s assistance in a murder case.

The police were to be helped out by Professor Arthur Goodhart, the character’s former college tutor, who was taken ill recently while compiling his notes on the case. Prof Goodhart collapsed and is now in a coma, but before losing consciousness told Dr Bright (the Master of Univ) that the player-character must be shown the case. Other characters will presumably tag along.

CALENDAR FOR 1891

NON-PLAYER CHARACTERS

Sir Matthew Ross (45), deceased, master of Deergrafe estate; served as a major in the 4th Hussars in Rawalpindi until 1877

Lady Julia Ross (42), his wife (née Walpole)

Cuthbert Ross (16), their son (at school at Stowe)

Elizabeth Ross (12), their daughter

Frederick Rolson (32) working as head groom at Deergrafe under the alias “Albert Duggan”

Catherine Wellbeck (19) lady’s maid at Deergrafe; note she is called “Wellbeck” by Lady Ross, and “Miss Welbeck” by the other servants.

Wellbeck is Sir Matthew’s illegitimate daughter. She killed Sir Matthew when, during the interview when she meant to tell him the truth, he tried to pull her to his lap and molest her – she grabbed the knife from his desk and stabbed him. Later, in Rolson’s room, she took the rook rifle and was about to shoot herself; Rolson tried to wrest the gun away and it went off.

Wellbeck is thus responsible for both deaths but neither was intentional. She is now in a state of grief and shock so extreme that any serious upset could unbalance her mind completely. A further level of stress has been provided by Jock Thouless trying to blackmail her into helping him steal the Amritsar Emeralds.

At the culmination of the scenario it is probable that Wellbeck will attempt to do away with herself, possibly by drowning in the pond where she threw the knife.

Gilbert Godwurst (50), butler at Deergrafe; he is a manager rather than a personal servant

Leonard Haynes (40), first footman

Mrs Glaze (48), cook

Mrs Darlington (52), housekeeper

Mahendra Singh (42), Sir Matthew’s valet

Timothy O’Duggan (26), coachman

Jim Wicking (15) stablehand

Albert Duggan (34), a sailor of Walter’s Ash, Buckinghamshire

Lily Duggan (29), his wife

Professor Arthur Goodhart (70), Univ, Jurisprudence; the investigating character’s tutor, currently in a coma having suffered a heart attack.

Prof Goodhart is not expected to recover, but had mentioned to Inspector Mordray that the investigating player-character was the only one of his students who could crack the case. Mordray is not keen to have interference from another academic, but his superiors insist that he needs a capable man to brief Prof Goodhart if he recovers. “But don’t interfere,” he tells the characters.

An interesting character twist: the player-character never got on with Prof Goodhart. His work was always severely criticized, so he is surprised to discover that the professor had a high opinion of him.

Dr James Franck Bright (59), Master of University College; historian

Basil Fence (50), head porter at Univ

Sam Rumbucket (40), scout at Univ (on Dr Goodhart’s staircase in Radcliffe Quad)

Dr James Edwards Sewell (81), Warden of New College

Sir (Thomas) Herbert Warren (38), President of Magdalen College; literature & poetry

Detective Inspector Reginald Mordray (34), Oxford CID. He is a grammar school man, educated at the Crypt School, Gloucester, and distrusts dilettante investigators.

Detective Sergeant William “Thunderbolt” Torssen (33), Oxford CID. A real hard nut, ex-Army (“The Light Bobs”, 52nd Oxfordshire Regiment of Foot, disbanded 1881), not fond of undergraduates but respectful of dons.

Captain James Winter (42) of HMS Devastation was Duggan’s commanding officer during his time in the Royal Navy. He is currently in Portsmouth, where the Devastation is being undergoing a refit.

FACTS OF THE CASE

Sir Matthew Ross was the owner of Deergrafe, an estate near the village of Deerfield, ten miles north-west of Oxford.

On the night of Monday June 15, Sir Matthew was murdered in his study. He was found by his valet around 10 pm. The coroner estimates he was killed around 8 pm with a knife. His letter-opener, an Indian kirpan, was missing but the scabbard was on his desk along with an unsealed envelope containing ten pound notes.

When the police arrived (about midnight) it was discovered that the head groom Albert Duggan had committed suicide in his room behind the stable block. He was found clutching a Holland & Holland rook rifle he was supposed to be cleaning, having shot himself under the chin and up through the brain. His body was found around 1 am after the police arrived from Oxford. In retrospect, the stableboy and the cook both think they heard a gunshot at some time in the evening, possibly around 9 pm.

An interesting feature of the case is that Mrs Duggan was summoned from her home in Buckinghamshire to identify the body and swears that it is not her husband. However, she was given a letter written by the deceased, found in his room, and conceded that it was her husband’s handwriting. Also, it appears that Albert Duggan had packed his bags ready for a quick departure, though he had not handed in notice.

Also in Albert’s room: a note on unfolded paper, in a different hand, on his bedside table, and a calendar with a double question mark ?? written beside Monday, July 6. (In fact that’s when Jock Thouless wanted “Albert” to leave a window unlocked so he could get into the house. It’s a new moon that night.)

Albert’s body is in a refrigerated morgue at the Radcliffe. Sir Matthew was buried on June 26.

Lady Ross’s prized jewels are the Amritsar Emeralds, kept in the safe in Sir Matthew’s study.

The characters are called in on Wednesday, July 1.

June 15: the moon was in first quarter that night; weather fine; sunrise 04:45, sunset 21:20.

Earlier, on Saturday, June 6, there was an annular eclipse of the sun at just after four o’clock in the afternoon. That’s an irrelevant detail.

Weather for July is cooler than usual, with frequent thunderstorms.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED

Frederick Rolson and Albert Duggan were both in service at Windrush Hall in Lincolnshire in their younger days. Later they moved on to other jobs. Frederick continued to work as a groundskeeper and groom in various stately homes. After a stint in the Royal Navy, Albert became a farmer and settled down in Walter’s Ash in Buckinghamshire.

A few years ago at a county fair, Albert ran into Frederick, who had fallen on hard times having been dismissed from his job for theft, despite protesting his innocence. Albert agreed to let Frederick assume his identity to apply for a job at Deergrafe, Sir Matthew Ross’s house in Oxfordshire. Albert was finding it hard to make ends meet and had decided he could do better in the merchant navy, having learned his way around a ship in the Navy in his mid-20s.

So Albert let Frederick borrow his identity. He told his wife Lily he was working at a big house in Oxfordshire and couldn’t say for sure when he’d be home, but would write to her with money. Then he went off to sea. He didn’t want to admit that to Lily because she worried about him going to sea and had made him leave the Navy when they married.

Frederick has a few letters written by Albert to post off to Lily with money every couple of weeks. One of these letters was found in his room at Deergrafe, but the detectives didn’t compare it to anything written by Frederick himself. They also don’t seem to question why it gets details wrong – “Sir Martin told me he likes my way with the dogs,” “Marion, that’s the cook, is baking an apple pie and said she will put aside a slice since I will get back late from the hunt.” Etc.

Catherine Wellbeck had been engaged as lady’s maid a few months ago. She is secretly Sir Matthew’s illegitimate daughter from a liaison with his wife’s maid in their early years in India two decades ago. Catherine only learned the truth when her mother made a deathbed confession last year.

One summer evening Catherine made an appointment to see Sir Matthew in his study after dinner. She thought from the occasional looks he had given her that he recognized her as his daughter, but instead of listening to what she had to say he tried to force himself on her. She stabbed him with his letter-opener, threw it in the pond behind the house, tore the page from the day-planner that indicated she had an appointment with Sir Matthew, then went along the passage to the library, pausing to wipe her blood-stained hand on a drape.

She had intended to go to her room, but then had second thoughts and turned back to call on Frederick (whom she knew as Albert, and with whom she had begun a surreptitious early-stage relationship) but he said she would have to turn herself in. There was an argument, she seized the rifle he was cleaning threatening to do away with herself, he tried to wrest it back the gun went off, and “Albert” fell dead.

The next day, remembering the blood stain on the drape, Catherine went back and cut out the stained lining. It’s obvious that a small pair of sewing scissors was used.

It’s also obvious that if “Albert” had stabbed Sir Matthew, his obvious route back to the stables would have been out of the French windows and across the lawn and yard. In fact, as a groom, “Albert” would not normally go through the house at any time. He would certainly have had no reason to be in the passage where the drape is.

Nobody has noticed that Catherine is grieving intensely, or if they have they assume it is out of devotion to her master rather than for “Albert”.

The coachman thinks Sir Matthew was angry with “Albert” because he heard his master say, “Damn you, sir, you will beggar me.” Actually that was a jocular remark; “Albert” used to carry money for Sir Matthew’s bets on his afternoons off.

Other servants saw Sir Matthew surreptitiously hand an envelope to “Albert” from time to time. That was money for betting; see above.

Lily Duggan has told the police, “that’s not my husband,” but nobody is paying her much attention. After all, he was shot in the face.

The gun was found clutched tightly in “Albert’s” hands, recorded by the coroner as a case of instantaneous rigor, yet Prof Goodhart notes that neither hand was clamped on the trigger.

Was the gunshot heard? Yes, in retrospect, but at this time of year you sometimes hear a shot in the distance. It could have been a hunter or a farmer shooting a fox.

Other plot threads

Jock Thouless happened to see “Albert” at a hunt meet and recognized him as Frederick Rolson. Jock is a house burglar who, years before, got Frederick to be his inside man at Greycotes House, where Frederick worked. The theft was discovered, suspicion pointed at Frederick, but to avoid a scandal the family (Brisbane) dismissed him without references rather than call in the police. That was in 1886. Now Jock wanted “Albert” to let him into Deergrafe on the night of the new moon, ie July 6, but “Albert” was doubly reluctant – older and wiser, but also not wanting to blacken his friend’s good name. So he was thinking of running off before that night.

In fact Jock has decided to go ahead with the burglary anyway, and if the characters spot the note on the calendar they may lie in wait for him. (Night Vision VII, Stealth 13, Brawling 13, carries a cosh.)

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE

Master: Dr James Bright

Head porter: Basil Fence

Scout: Sam Rumbucket

The character is put up at college in rooms below Dr Goodhart’s on staircase IX of Radcliffe Quad:

Radcliffe Quad is remarkable in one aspect: the quadrangle proper is set out on the same axis as that in the Main Quad, but both High Street and Logic Lane curve round at this point. There are therefore barely any square or rectangular rooms in the whole quad, but they are all slightly irregularly shaped.

Admitted to Prof Goodhart’s study, the character may have flashbacks to the striking (and awful) black and red carpet that he remembers from many grueling tutorials. That’s just a character touch, it has no plot significance.

Throughout the investigation, the character finds references in Prof Goodhart’s notes to “B.H. would have an answer” [Ben Herzog was the PC in our campaign; obviously the initials will be different in yours] and realizes that Goodhart admired his unconventional intelligence but deplored what he saw as a diffusion of talent.

Dr Goodhart’s notes mention the possibility of fingerprint identification “as proposed by Sir William Herschel and Francis Galton of the South Kensington Museum”. That’s just a historical touch, it has no bearing on the case.

At the end of the scenario, while replacing Goodhart’s notes in his file, the character finds a box labeled: “The Ripper Case”. He finds this by noticing that the walls in Prof Goodhart’s rooms, unlike the set below, are squared off in one corner. This conceals a cubby-hole where he left the Ripper case. (This is what Prof Goodhart actually meant when he aid the character must be “shown the case” – he didn’t consider Sir Matthew Ross’s murder that important.)

OXFORD POLICE STATION

(Kemp Hall Passage, just off the High Street.)

In 1870 Kemp Hall was altered by Honour & Castle for use as a police station. Jackson’s Oxford Journal in October 1870 reported:

The headquarters of the Oxford City Police are now transferred to Kemp Hall, High Street…. The premises, though rather out of the way, being down a passage, are central, and in the rear of the Town Hall having communication with the Superintendent’s residence, and with the City Court. On the ground floor is a spacious office and library (the books for which remain to be contributed) and above are dormitories for 14 constables. Inspector Barratt and P. S. Barrows will live on the premises. There are three good lock-up cells, in one of which are the remains of old carvings; also cellars and necessary appurtenances.

Detective Inspector Reginald Mordray (34), Oxford CID. He is a grammar school man, educated at the Crypt School, Gloucester, and distrusts dilettante investigators.

◦          “It should be open and shut, this case, but some details are proving elusive.”

Detective Sergeant William “Thunderbolt” Torssen (33), Oxford CID. A real hard nut, ex-Army (“The Light Bobs”, 52nd Oxfordshire Regiment of Foot, disbanded 1881), not fond of undergraduates but respectful of dons. He offers some facts from the crime scene:

◦          “No signs of forced entry. The only odd features regarding the room are the missing letter-opener, the open envelope of £10 notes, and the page torn out of the desk diary.”

◦          “No footprints in the garden, although it had been dry for several days anyway. The French windows to the lawn were open – Sir Matthew's usual habit in summer – and it would have been logical for Duggan, if he was the killer, to exit that way, turn right across the yard, and thence go direct to his room behind the stable block.”

P.C. Wilbur Brodie (22) was one of those first on the scene. He knows:

◦          “Duggan had the rifle clutched by barrel and stock. His hands were already stiff. I couldn’t move the fingers.”

THE MITRE

A hotel on the High Street. The other characters could stay here.

RADCLIFFE INFIRMARY

Dr Roger Baynton is treating Professor Goodhart.

Dr Peter Garrett pronounced death on both Sir Matthew and Duggan, and performed the autopsy on Duggan’s body.

Duggan’s body is in the refrigeration unit here.

CORONER’S REPORTS

“The knife wound was from in front, striking almost directly sideways (ie not upwards or downwards) into the left side of Sir Matthew's throat. But he was found slumped obliquely across his desk, suggesting that he was seated side-on to the desk (with his left side towards the desk) at the time of the attack. That's also consistent with the pool of blood across the desk.

  

“Duggan was found with his left hand on the barrel and right hand on the stock. His hands were clutched tightly on the rook rifle, one on the barrel and one on the stock, in a manner consistent with cadaveric spasm, commonly called ‘instantaneous rigor’, which occurs sometimes when the point of death is accompanied by violent emotion or a struggle. Incidentally Mrs Duggan says her husband was left handed. But then, she says that's not him.”

THE DEERGRAFE ESTATE

First they are taken to Mr Godwurst’s office.

(Observation roll: there are framed photos on the wall.)

◦          There is a photo of all the servants, taken recently (1891).

◦          There is a photo of Sir William, Lady Ross, Mr Godwurst, Diana Purdey, and Singh (the valet) in Rawalpindi (1870).

A character who studies the photographs and makes an IQ-5 roll will recognize the resemblance between Diana Purdey and Catherine Wellbeck.

Mr Godwurst may be able to answer some of the characters’ questions:

Miss Wellbeck was hired recently. What were here credentials?

“Wellbeck was recommended to her ladyship by a former servant from her ladyship’s time in India, I believe. I was not involved in her selection. That’s quite usual for a personal servant such as a lady’s maid or valet, as they are not servants of the estate.”

How about Duggan’s credentials?

“Duggan came to me with letters of recommendation from Windrush Hall in Lincolnshire, where he served as stable hand, groundsman and later junior footman from 1872 to 1879. His lack of references after that time were explained by a term of service in the Royal Navy, and he had a letter from his commanding officer at Lowestoft, a Captain Winter of HMS Devastation if memory serves, verifying that Duggan was granted an honourable discharge after five years with the Mediterranean fleet.”

Can Miss Wellbeck read and write?

“A lady’s maid must provide her mistress with companionable conversation and write letters for her. I believe that Wellbeck sometimes reads in the library, but only novels, you understand.”

Could Duggan have been an imposter?

“Unlikely. He had a thorough knowledge of his job and of Windrush Hall in particular. Somebody who simply came across those letters of reference could not so readily have passed himself off as one with extensive experience in service. However, I confess I was a little surprised to see they had made him a junior footman, as I would not have said he was quite tall enough for that.”

Mahendra Singh (Sir Matthew’s valet) is utterly discreet and will reveal nothing unless convinced it is in the family’s interests.

Mrs Darlington, the housekeeper, noted Miss Wellbeck’s burgeoning friendship with “Duggan” but the most she will vouchsafe to the characters is, “It’s difficult keeping a young staff in order. Mr Godwurst and I have our work cut out.”

Mrs Glaze, the cook, tries to be discreet but if got tipsy she may reveal that, “That Catherine, she was bit sweet on Al if you want my opinion. Not that Mrs Darlington would have let it go anywhere.”

THE STABLE BLOCK

In Duggan’s room:

◦          A calendar with a double question mark ?? written beside Monday, July 6.

◦          Bags packed for a quick departure (though he had not handed in his notice).

◦          Three letters from Lily Duggan dated May 7, May 23, and June 10 were unopened and tied up with string.

◦          There was a letter to Lily, signed and in an envelope, among Duggan’s effects.

◦          There was another letter (unfolded, no envelope) on a table.

Timothy O’Duggan (coachman, no relation to the deceased) says: “I don’t reckon as the master were any too happy with Al. I hear him say, ‘Damn you, sir, you will beggar me.’” (Actually that was a jocular remark on Sir Matthew’s part; “Albert” used to carry money for Sir Matthew’s bets on his afternoons off.)

The coachman may mention seeing Al talking to “a man in tweeds” on the day he died. “A heated discussion, as you might say. Most like he were warnin’ the fellow off not to stray onto estate lands. A rambler or bird fancier, I’d have said he was.” (In fact that was Jock Thouless, currently lodging in the village of Deerfield under the alias Mervyn Campbell.)

Jim Wicking (stable hand, 15) mentions: “I seen the master give Al an envelope from time to time. On the Q.T. like, when they thought no one was about. Money, I’m sure of that.” (That was money for betting; see above.)

MEETING LADY ROSS

Lady Julia Ross is with (Catherine) Wellbeck : “It is the sort of beastliness that one could expect out in India, not here in England.”

◦          Empathy roll: Wellbeck seems even more distraught than her mistress.

Lady Ross is a firm believer in spirits, seances, etc.

Cuthbert Ross (the son) has gone back to Stowe, having come down for his father’s funeral on June 26.

SIR WILLIAM’S STUDY

◦          The French windows were open.

◦          The most direct route back to the stable block would be out of the windows and across the yard.

◦          A page was torn out of his day planner (for June 14 to 20)

That page would have shown he had arranged to meet Miss Wellbeck on the evening of June 15.

◦          The safe has not been tampered with. It contains the Amritsar Emeralds.

◦          The letter-opener (a kirpan, almost certainly the murder weapon) was missing.

◦          An envelope of four £10 notes was on the desk. (That was money he intended to give “Duggan” to place a bet for him.)

◦          There was one drink poured: a glass of brandy on Sir Matthew's desk, knocked over when he slumped sideways across it.

THE PASSAGE OUTSIDE THE STUDY

This passage leads along the back of the house from Sir Matthew’s study to the library. From the library there are servants’ stairs (nominally concealed behind a shelf of fake books, but obvious on an Observation roll).

◦          Observation roll in the passage: a piece of the lining of one of the curtains onto the back lawn has been cut out, apparently with small sewing scissors.

◦          [Second Observation roll: there is a trace of blood still on the lining that was not cut out.]

◦          There is a smear of blood under the frame of the sash window here.

After the murder, Miss Wellbeck went out of the french windows, threw the knife in the pond, dipped her hand in the water, and then went back through the study towards the library, and thence up to her own room. As she passed along the passage, she noticed blood still on her hand and wiped her hand on the back of the curtain, then later came back and cut out the bloody piece of fabric.

CLUES

How will they find out the truth?

(1) The photo of the family in Rawalpindi. There is a young woman in the background. “That’s my maid Diana Purdey,” says Lady Ross. “She left my service shortly after that photograph was made. Married and stayed on in India, I believe.”

Enquiries reveal that Diana Purdey married a Captain Wellbeck. Nobody at Deergrafe is aware of that, but the characters could trace other retired members of the regiment in London who might know, or they could go to Somerset House and look up the birth records there. (Although Catherine Wellbeck was born in India, her birth is registered at Somerset House.) IQ-5 in any case to see the family resemblance between Diana Purdey as she was in the 1870 photograph and Catherine Wellbeck now.

(2) A book of water colours that Catherine Wellbeck left in the library is by Diana Purdey. There are some images of Sir Matthew aged around twenty. In the middle is a pressed flower and a very old note: “Tonight, the arbour. – M.”

(3) Jock saw Miss Welbeck dispose of the knife. He was watching the house through binoculars. He sent her a note telling her to meet him or he will reveal her secret. He wants her to help him steal the emeralds by convincing Lady Ross to transfer them to a locked box in her room. So they may see Wellbeck returning from that assignation.

PUBS IN DEERFIELD

There are two: the Keg of Porter (inn with a couple of rooms) and the smaller Prince Charles. The Keg of Porter has one guest, Mervyn Campbell (34), ostensibly an ornithologist on holiday. (It’s actually Jock Thouless.) He signed in on June 12 for four weeks.

Haynes (the first footman at Deergrafe) sometimes drinks here. He saw Duggan talking to “Campbell” in a lane a few weeks ago, but won’t think to mention it unless specifically asked. He’s never seen Campbell in the pub, so doesn’t know he’s staying in the district.

Jock saw Miss Welbeck dispose of the knife. He was watching the house through binoculars. He sent her a note telling her to meet him or he will reveal her secret. He wants her to help him steal the emeralds by convincing Lady Ross to transfer them to a locked box in her room.

LILY DUGGAN’S COTTAGE

Lily lives in Walter’s Ash, Buckinghamshire.

She is a simple soul and could be overwhelmed by too many grand gentlemen. But if the characters are diplomatic:

◦          “That’s not my husband they got there.”

◦          “They’re calling him a murderer.”

◦          “Served at Windrush Hall in his younger days.”

◦          “He was in the navy when I met him at Lowestoft. Well, actually I first saw him at the P of KL [port of King’s Lynn] but we only met socially in Lowestoft a few weeks later.” (7 years ago)

◦          “Typically goes off for three or four months, then he might get a few weeks at home. The last time was in April*. It was our anniversary.”

* Cross-checking with Mr Godwurst at Deergrafe reveals that “Al” had no time off in April.

As a model for Deergrafe I used Greys Court in Oxfordshire. There are useful notes about Oxford in Victorian times here, and your players might also find my edited version of the Dickens guide to Oxford useful.

Post mortem

As I said at the start, my players seemed so strongly to expect and favour a fantastical denouement that I whipped up the following epilogue so as not to disappoint. Your first priority as referee is to make sure they have fun, after all.

Before I go, some backstory. In our campaign, the players had gone up against some Dagon cultists on the isle of Jura. They encountered some “witches” sacrificing a man in a Wicker Man moment, and one of the PCs, Benjamin Herzog, murdered the head witch when she was already in custody. This didn’t sit well with the others, especially Royal Navy officer Daniel Reaver, but the deed was done. Life goes on.

And indeed unlife went on too, because the “witch” was a powerful psionic who managed to hold on to a semblance of existence by distributing her personality around the PCs’ subconscious minds. So they had been experiencing a few ghostly flickers, Benjamin especially.

At the culmination of the investigation, overcome by guilt and grief, and realizing her secret must soon come out, Miss Wellbeck drowned herself in the lake. The psionic witch’s psyche transferred into her body and visited this grisly little scene upon the characters as they sat in the bar of the Mitre hotel that evening.

Incidentally, you need to know that Benjamin Herzog suffers from claustrophobia and Ailean Gris from the delusion that he was abducted by aliens – mental weaknesses (it's GURPS, you see) that the witch was quick to exploit. These notes are very specific to my players’ characters, but hopefully the episode will inspire you to come up with something creepy, should you need it to finish off the adventure.

Return of the Witch

As the characters sit discussing their investigation over postprandial drinks in the Mitre lounge, the fire flattens like a frightened animal. There is a mournful groan from the chimney. The windows suddenly fog up. Nobody can escape. If they run upstairs or out of the door they will find themselves back in the lounge.

The window shatters and Miss Wellbeck floats in, deathly pale and clad in a white shroud. It is in fact the witch who has taken over and reanimated her body and brought it here from the morgue.

She controls a small zone – just the lounge. But here she slows time (or otherwise holds them, eg spellbound “you are going to get up, you’ve decided to, but not yet it seems”) to deal with each in turn.

How do they know who she is? Let them intuit it from her Scottish accent and what she says to Daniel Reaver. She deals first with Reaver, then the rest, and Benjamin Herzog last.

To Reaver she says: “You brought no ill to the women. Your hands are not stained with our blood. You may go.” (He is teleported outside into the High Street.)

Ailean Gris finds himself strapped to a table in an alien vessel. Drifting shapes like the fins of tropical fish, in which float sensory organs, surround him. Their arms are delicate as daddy-longlegs but are many and capable of exerting surprising force. They put up human-like masks as they bend to look at him: paper drawings of his friends’ faces. One says: “The sensory distortion field is out of alignment. The subject may be able to perceive that it lives no longer on its native planet but as a captive here in our dimension.”

Then Ailean sees the head of his dead servant on a long angle-poise strut. It watches as saws and probes are deployed to remove his organs and replace them with machinery. “Now you are no MacLean but a MacHine. Freewill is lost to you. The tick-tock of the gears is all that drives you. Now you have written on your innards, in the entrails of your brain, that you may not harm a witch.”

If, after the vision ends, Ailean attacks the witch in defiance of the servant’s admonition, he is free to do so and she is powerless to stop him, but he must buy off the alien abduction delusion as it means he has rejected it. However, buying it off is half-cost.

Lord Tennyson Thurgood sees Harry Dakkar Singh [my own character, killed by some Cthulhoid entity a few sessions earlier]. Harry turns, silently screaming, as darkness seems to fill him up from inside, making his mouth and eyes a void. He is eaten away as if by acid from within.

If Edwards [Harry’s former valet] is there… he is lying on the slab in the morgue after the incident in Islington [a particularly traumatic earlier adventure]. Medical students are discussing the impending autopsy with their professor. Edwards cannot speak or move.

Benjamin is trapped inside the chimney. Claustrophobia roll at -3 to begin with, ie needing to roll 9 or less. Once he makes that he’s -2 next round, etc, until he makes an unmodified roll and is then okay. The only effect of a fail is to lose him all actions for the round, but remember he is at -2 on all rolls even if he finally makes it. Getting up the chimney takes four Climbing rolls – or he can drop into the fire, but then he gets burnt and has only one round to act.

If Benjamin manages to climb up the chimney into the room above, he can run down the stairs and gets three rounds to act as he re-enters her zone of control.

However, Benjamin has a very limited time in which to act. If he is not out of the chimney within six rounds, the witch curses him so that the face of every woman he sees from then on is the bloody, terrified face of one of the women he killed on Jura.

Fire: Take 1d-1 on dropping into the hearth. If that inflicts 3 or more points, clothing catches alight and he takes 1d-4 and is a further -2 on DX skills until he takes a round to beat the flames out.

If Reaver bursts back into the Mitre he has one round to act before the witch immobilizes him. (Or slows time?) Or he could shoot straight through the fogged windows if he had a gun. The fog clings to the outside of the Mitre’s ground floor like a writhing skin.

Ailean likewise has one round if he chooses to act against her, though he could move next to her first (which he can do freely) to get full value of that.

Tennyson can strike her, but if he does he remembers the incident on Jura differently. There is the gunshot, but when he looks down he sees it was his own rifle that killed the witch before Benjy had time to do so. This rewrites both their memories of the incident (but not Ailean’s or Reaver’s).

The witch can be driven away by smashing the head of her host body (3 hp) or doing enough damage to the body itself (35 hp, or chuck it in the fire). Her spirit departs anyway if successful in cursing Benjamin - she has been able to sustain her existence this long only by the urge for revenge. Either way they’re left with Miss Wellbeck’s corpse on the hearth rug – something to explain to the police.

Another look at Dragon Warriors

I recently cracked open the beautiful hardback edition of Dragon Warriors produced by James Wallis’s Magnum Opus Press. As a matter of fact there are some copies on sale on DriveThruRPG at the moment – not at all cheap compared to the fiver my Tirikelu rules will set you back, but definitely worth it.

In the preface I talked a bit about my and Oliver Johnson’s thinking when designing the game:

“Our aim was to put something dark, spooky and magical back into fantasy role-playing. Loathing the medieval Disneyland of Dungeons & Dragons, with its theme park taverns, comedy dwarves, and cannon-fodder profusion of monsters, we made Legend as vividly dreamlike as the Middle Ages seem in stories, a place dripping with a European folktale sensibility. The flavor of what fantasy ought to be.

“In Legend, faerie creatures are as amoral as cats and as heartless as children. A goblin in the rafters can spoil a whole night’s sleep, while a troll under the bridge ahead is reason to change your travel plans. And these creatures are rare. Walking into a tavern in Legend and finding an elf at the bar would be like strolling into your real-life local and seeing a polar bear.

“In the world of Dragon Warriors, human emotion is just as strong as magic. The scenario ‘A Box of Old Bones’ makes it clear that the miracles associated with holy relics are sufficiently rare and vaguely manifested that a fake relic can go unnoticed for years, getting by on the strength of its placebo effect and the willingness of clergy and believers to collude in seeing evidence where they want to see it. Our rule was never to evoke magic if a non-supernatural plot point would do.”

It’s nice to see old work you did getting some love. Normally when that happens people are heaping praise on the land of Legend. The Dragon Warriors rules themselves get overlooked, even by me. (Especially by me, in fact, since I’m forever kicking myself for not listening to Oliver when he said we should dispense with the polyhedral dice.) But then I came across this in-depth review by Charles Akins in which it’s the DW system as much as the world that grabs him. If I ever get around to finishing Jewelspider for publication it’s going to have a new D6-driven system, but Mr Akins’ comments still give me a warm glow inside. As does this mini-review on Legacy Game Mastering:



And if you should feel like a return to the lands of Legend, Serpent King Games have made the core Dragon Warriors rulebook available free as a PDF until the end of this month. That's better than a dragon spitting in your eye. (Although I should add that in all my time in Legend, the nearest we've yet got to a dragon is hearing an ominous slithering in a ditch in the forest one time. Gotta love that low fantasy.)

Practising my art upon the gnoles

I can't imagine what possessed me to perpetrate this act of creative vandalism. Converting Lord Dunsany's gnoles to Runequest stats -- by Mung and his Beast, the very idea! My only excuse then is that I was young (it was the early 1980s), I was editing the Rune Rites column in White Dwarf, and there was a constant demand for new material -- especially monsters because RQ's hit location rules makes it pretty hard to improvise them as you go. But even so, what a wretched crime against a great fantasy author. And I really have no excuse for publishing it now except as a warning to others... Do me a favour; please at least read the story (and preferably pay for it; it's still in copyright) before you spoil it with these stats.

GNOLES

ARMOUR: 2 point skin; sometimes also leather (2 pts.) on body & limbs  

SPELLS: Befuddle; Healing 2; Shimmer 2; Darkwall

SKILLS: Climbing 80%; Listen 80%; Camouflage 90%; Hide in Cover 80%; Move Quietly 90%; Tracking 100% (in forest); Spot Hidden 50%

Travellers who have journeyed through the very deepest and most gloomy forests sometimes claim to have caught a glimpse of large beings moving with uncanny speed and agility through the trees. These are the fabled gnoles.

The reclusive gnoles care nothing for other races and are content to ignore anyone who is not determined to bother them. However, their hidden dwellings are often sought by avaricious and overconfident adventurers who covet their great treasure. Those who survive the other dangers of the forest and succeed in reaching one of the gnole lairs rarely live to brag of it, for the gnoles have several unique abilities that aid them in disposing of intruders...

Gnoles cannot be surprised. They are so aware of the forest and all its signs that they get several hours' warning when anyone is approaching. Moreover, gnoles almost always surprise their opponents; at a distance of 25 metres a gnole is 90% likely to be undiscernable when stationary.

Gnoles cannot see anything further than 20 metres from them (although their hearing is very acute and so they will still be aware of beings beyond this range), but closer than this they have full 360° vision, even through solid objects. They also have Detect Enemies to a range of 20 metres; this ability operates continually at no POW cost.

A gnole lair will contain 4-24 gnoles, all in permanent Mindspeech with one another. In appearance, gnoles are a mottled brown-black. They are slightly larger and more heavily built than an average man, but stand somewhat shorter owing to their stooped posture. They have prehensile hands and feet which enable them to climb rapidly in spite of their bulk.

Tirikelu: role-playing adventures in the empire of the Petal Throne

Corresponding with Professor M.A.R. Barker in the late 1970s and early ‘80s, I was treated to tantalizing glimpses of “the new Empire of the Petal Throne” he was writing. The original EPT had served its purpose for a while, but my group were moving beyond those D&D-inspired mechanics. This was the era of RuneQuest and The Fantasy Trip. We were hungry for a more authentic experience of Tékumel, so we would pass around the Professor’s letters (he was always incredibly generous with his time) and pick endlessly over comments like this:

“We now have one roll to hit, one to get past the shield, one for damage (minus armour) and if one rolls 0 on a 10-sided die on this last roll, then a critical hit for more damage.”

Years passed. It was taking too long. I began constructing my own set of Tékumel rules from the fragmentary description in the Professor’s letters, like reconstructing an unknown animal from just a few bones.

Finally “the new EPT” appeared. That was Swords & Glory. My group switched for a while, but it was the S&G Sourcebook that was getting dog-eared from use. The other book, the rules, appealed less. “HBS Factors” and “Healing G9s” gave the game a tabletop miniatures flavour rather too far from the freewheeling shared stories we were looking for.

And so I returned to my own rules and began to refine them into the game I had hoped Swords & Glory would be. Those rules were to become Tirikélu.

This was the early 1990s, so it seems a little early to talk of an Old School Revival (not a term I like anyway) but the aim was there. Simplify the system so that the rules didn’t keep tripping up the play. Recapture the evocative magic of those early adventures by cross-pollinating EPT spells with ideas from The Book of Ebon Bindings. Make combat quick to use but more than just the endless dice-rolling of, say, RuneQuest.

I had two eureka moments. First, in a treatise by a duellist from the 17th century (quite possibly Sir William Hope) I came across the concept of “safe fighting”. His contention was that a moderately skilled fighter could, by concentrating on defence, hold off a more skilled opponent who was dividing his attention between attack and defence. In Tirikélu that became the principle of full- and half-actions. It seemed almost too simple on paper, but in practice we found it allowed for rich tactical choices.

Also I wanted to avoid hit location and lots of book-keeping, but not simply to revert to the amorphous pudding of hit points of D&D. So taking damage above a certain percentage of your hits can reduce your skill, and may require a check to stay conscious, but you don’t need to keep a tally of how much damage each wound caused. It’s all handled at the point the wound is taken.

Nowadays there are quite a few role-playing games where you make a detailed decision about what you’re trying to do, then wade through pages of rules to find your chance of doing it. (GURPS, I’m looking at you.) Tirikélu works best if you keep it abstract till after you roll the dice. “He’s going for a full attack.” “I’m going for a full parry.” Once you resolve that, you’re free to put any narrative interpretation you like on the result. It flows faster that way and, with imaginative players, fights feel agreeably cinematic.

Well, here it is – as complete a version of Tirikélu as you’re ever likely to see. I know, I know; it seems like there’s a new Tékumel RPG every couple of years. Who needs yet another? But many people tell me that Tirikélu is their preferred choice, and you know what? It’s mine too. And it is dedicated, as so much of my work is, to the genius, generosity and humanity of Professor M.A.R. Barker. And on top of that, it’s absolutely free and comes with a whole bunch of scenarios, campaigns and source material.

Get Tirikélu as a free PDF HERE. (Or download the super hi-res 45 Meg version here, which I have also set up so that you can print yourself a copy at cost - no profit to me, and strictly for personal use; no resales, please.) It turns out the rules of the Tekumel Foundation don't allow me to do that set-up work for you even as a non-profit thing. So if you want a print copy you'll have to do it yourself. Sorry about the faff, but it'll only take you about fifteen minutes, and I've written this checklist to guide you through Lulu step by step.

You can find Tirikelu creature stats here. And for even more scenarios, try Michael Cule's introductory adventure "Welcome to Jakalla", Dermot Bolton's espionage tale "Crystal Clear", Bob Dushay's military mission for pre-gen characters "Behind Enemy Lines", and David Bailey's high-stakes scenario "The Society of the Resurgent Octagon".

Fabled Lands rules, old and new

Recently Jamie and I had a chat about the forthcoming FL book 7 with Paul Gresty (who wrote it) and Richard S Hetley (who is editing it) and an often-asked question arose...

Paul Gresty: “The precise calculation for Defence in Fabled Lands came up on the FL Facebook page about a month ago, and it’s come up again during playtesting of The Serpent King’s Domain as a point of ambiguity. To quote the books: ‘Your Defence score is equal to: your COMBAT score plus your Rank plus the bonus for the armour you’re wearing (if any)’.”

Jamie Thomson: “The question a lot of people ask is whether that COMBAT score includes weapon bonuses – that is, does your Defence score factor in bonuses from weapons and armour, or just from armour?”

Paul: “Right. And with the release of book 7 we’ve got the opportunity to nail this point down. Given the new mechanic for spirit combat, in which Defence is calculated a little differently, it’s important to be specific as regards weapon bonuses.”

Jamie: “If weapon bonuses counted then players could too easily become unbeatable. We should have made it clearer in the rules that you’re supposed to use your innate COMBAT score when calculating Defence.”

Dave Morris: “Also, if the rule worked that way, then logically magic weapons should cost twice as much as magic armour, because they would count for Defence, just like the armour does, and for attack too.”

Jamie: “Right. So to be clear: weapon bonuses do not count towards Defence, ie when calculating your Defence you use your native COMBAT skill without weapon bonuses. Which also makes calculating Defence straightforward, as it doesn’t change every time you switch weapon.”

Paul: “If you use the wrong calculation for Defence, it’s possible for your character to become untouchable in combat. Notably there’s an opponent in FL6, a giant called Big Boy, who is really dangerous in combat, and who inflicts permanent damage to the player’s Stamina with each hit. I’ve found that it’s possible to beat him without taking a scratch - although it seems that the player is supposed to find the clever, non-combat way to beat him.”

Dave: “Jamie and I just assumed players would take it as read that they were to use base COMBAT when calculating Defence. In other words, we didn’t notice there was any ambiguity. It’s no excuse, of course. If there is any point to rules at all, they need to be unambiguous. If an ambiguity makes no difference, the rule itself is superfluous.”

Jamie: “Well, we’re kind of fixing it now. Though in retrospect the system breaks down at these very high levels anyway.”

Richard S Hetley: “I’ve been playtesting all the physical fights in Serpent King’s Domain using the rule that weapon bonuses don’t add to Defence.”

Paul: “I think it’s safe to assume that 95% of players coming to SKD will already own and be very familiar with books 1-6. The new mechanic of spirit combat is intended to provide a few fights in which the player’s combat ability is determined in a much more closed and manageable way. Rank has no bearing on these fights, and only certain items are permissible. The only real advantage that very high-Rank characters get is that they’ll go into these fights with a much higher Stamina. There aren’t so many of these spirit combats in the book, but they should provide a challenge to even very powerful characters.”

Dave: “I’m reminded of spirit combat in Runequest. That was always hair-raising, seeing as if you lost the fight you were annihilated.”

Paul: “Just on the basis of the Dunpala demo, I’ve already had an email about with a rules question asking, ‘Can I use my +8 White Sword in spiritual combat? I think I should be able to, because it was created by a god.’“

Jamie: “Hah! Worth a shot, I guess. What did you tell him?”

Paul: “I gave him a variation of that opening to the Blood Sword books, something like, ‘I’d personally say no – but it’s your book, play it however you want.’” 

Richard: “In spiritual combats in this book, Sanctity or Magic of at least 9 is required to defeat the weakest enemy you’ll face. A starting character in The Serpent King’s Domain can reach that without effort, or can make up the difference by finding high-powered spiritual weapons and armour. But to overcome the strongest enemy you need to have the highest possible Sanctity or Magic and the strongest possible arsenal from this book, as well as a healthy amount of bonus Stamina.”

Jamie: “Which is how it should be. Players want to face a real challenge. The ultimate boss in a book mustn’t be a pushover.”

Richard: “Just as we expect the player to become unbeatable in physical fights by gaming the system, in spiritual fights the player is eventually going to max out stats just the same. On top of which there’s the modifying factor of Lone and Level Sands. Even if this enemy is the strongest in Serpent King’s Domain, what happens if book 8 comes into existence and then the player gets an arsenal even stronger than that here? Now the boss fight in this book becomes easier.”

Jamie: “Maybe some bosses are so tough that you need a multi-book quest before you can face them. We might need to do that to make later books a challenge.”

Dave: “As long as you get the chance to turn away from those fights if you’re not tough enough yet. If you only find out you weren’t ready for the fight by getting killed, that’s a swizz. I know we have resurrection deals but even so you should get plenty of hints beforehand so you can judge the power level needed.”

Jamie: “Or the chance to run away and come back when you’re tough enough.”

Richard: “All this does mean that a player who expects to be invincible but has Sanctity or Magic topped at 5 or 6 is going to be mighty disappointed. I propose telling the fans this before the book is printed and seeing what they say.”

Return of the living dead

Having dusted off the Questworld folders recently - and by the way I do mean folders and I do mean dust, these having languished in the attic for over thirty years - I thought I may as well take a look through and see what still catches my interest.

One of the things that baffled me and my co-writer, Oliver Johnson, was the degree to which Questworld retained Glorantha's bronze age technology, culture, races and even specific deities. After all, if you liked Glorantha then you'd play official RQ supplements, wouldn't you? I had nothing against Glorantha myself, but the setting wasn't what most appealed to me. What I liked about Runequest was the rules, which over the years I've used for games in ancient Sparta, Tekumel, Arthurian adventures, and my own campaign world of Medra.

Anyway, we set about tweaking Questworld to be as different from Glorantha as we could make it. We were lumbered with the Issaries River (though it did get renamed the Ophis a few years later, when we started repurposing the material for our creator-owned Invaders & Ancients project) but we insisted on including something more like traditional fantasy undead. Gloranthan mythology defined undead in terms of their inability to regenerate Power, so we invented a class of "living dead" as well. Vampires were already taken, so ours had to be "vampyrs". Oh well, we could always pass it off as a nod to Polidori.

VAMPYRS

ARMOUR: As worn

SPELLS: Any

SKILLS: A vampyr has plenty of time in which to develop its skills. Perception and Stealth are particularly favoured: assume an average of 75%-80% for these.

A vampyr depends for its existence on draining blood from the living. The symbolic nature of the act provides potent magic; as the victim's life ebbs, the vampyr draws the vital essence into itself. The blood must drain directly from the victim to the vampyr. Blood stored in flasks would be useless, its magic destroyed.

If the vampyr goes without blood its CON begins to decrease. This represents the sapping of the creature’s energy. After seven full days without blood the vampyr loses 1 point of CON. Five days later another CON point is lost, then further points at four day intervals. For each CON point after the first, the vampyr also loses 1 point of STR. Moreover, after the first couple of weeks without blood the vampyr begins to show signs of ageing. When CON reaches 1 the vampyr's STR sinks to 3. It remains in this state for one month, then becomes truly dead – though even then the soul is not released unless the corpse's head is severed. The vampyr can stay in its coffin in order to slow the rate of CON loss, as each night that it rises is equivalent to two nights of remaining dormant.

The maximum amount of blood that a vampyr can drain in a single night is one pint. Usually it revisits a victim on successive nights, and the victim loses CON and STR as shown on the Blood Loss Table. Each point of CON that the victim loses adds one point to the vampyr's CON. When the vampyr’s CON reaches species maximum, further points go towards healing any damage the vampyr has taken, at the rate of each CON point lost to the victim giving the vampyr the equivalent of a healing 6 spell. This is the only way a vampyr can heal itself.

Vampyrs are unaffected by non-Runic weapons unless impaled by the weapon – and even then only half the normal impalement damage is taken. Bladesharp or other magic cast on a weapon will damage the vampyr, of course, as will Runic metal weapons.

A vampyr does not collapse when it has taken damage equal to its hit points - it must be hacked apart until it cannot fight, and in this respect is treated as a zombie. If for any reason the head of a fallen vampyr is not removed then the creature can be healed (by a charmed servant, for instance) by causing blood to gush from a living victim onto the vampyr's body.

Vampyrs have the power to charm. This requires the vampyr to talk to the intended victim for at least thirty seconds, and they must be within ten metres of one another. Charm cannot be used while the vampyr and victim are in combat, it must be normal conversation. A charmed victim allows the vampyr to do whatever it chooses with him/her.

It is widely believed that vampyrs can accomplish transformation into bat, wolf and mist form, but this is not definitely known. A vampyr certainly cannot make such a transformation in full view of its victims. When not observed, a vampyr can find its way up vertical walls and through locked doors exactly as though it does possess shapechanging abilities, but as it can never be seen to do so the exact truth of the matter is irrelevant.

A vampyr can be destroyed by driving a stake (in fact any sharp instrument) through its heart and then cutting off its head. The stake interrupts the flow of magical energy that sustains the vampyr, causing it to become in all respects like a normal corpse. If the stake is later removed the vampyr comes back to "life", because the soul has remained latent within the corpse. The action of severing the head frees the soul to go to the spirit plane, irreversibly ending the vampyr's living death.

Being caught in sunlight immediately removes the vampyr's power to charm and its invulnerability to bronze weapons. Also, the vampyr loses 2 points of CON every round it remains in sunlight until CON reaches zero and it ceases to function. Removing the head at this point will destroy the vampyr. If a vampyr which is already dormant in its coffin is exposed to sunlight then it suffers no CON loss but is held trapped, unable to rise, the until the sun sets.

Vampyrs cannot cross pure running water except by bridge, boat, or on the back of someone else. Swamp and marshland have no effect on them.

Vampyrs can be driven back with the Life Rune. If someone tied to this Rune presents it strongly before them, the vampyr is forced to retreat so as to keep at least four metres between itself and the Rune. This only applies as long as the Life Rune cultist concentrates fully on the power of the Rune. If  backed into a corner so that it cannot circle round the Life Rune, the vampyr will go berserk (as a fanaticism spell) and attempt to escape. The Death Rune has no effect on vampyrs. Many of them worship it in some form, as a matter of fact.

Anyone who dies from a vampyr's bite will become a vampyr or a demi-vampyr. A true vampyr is created when the vampyr allows the victim to drink its own blood at the same moment that it drains the victim's This costs the vampyr 1d4 points of characteristic POW (regainable through POW increase rolls) and ensures that the victim will arise three nights after his/her death as a new vampyr. The new vampyr loves its creator and is therefore (usually) totally loyal. SIZ, INT and POW remain the same as the vampyr previously possessed in life, DEX and CHA both increase by 1d6, CON increases to species maximum, and STR increases to 1½ times species maximum.

If the vampyr does not sacrifice POW its victim will arise as a mere demi-vampyr. Such a creature has characteristics as follows:

So the demi-vampyr gets the increased physical power of a normal vampyr, but its DEX and POW are reduced and it is left with. animal-like intelligence. It drains blood just like a vampyr, but cannot charm and takes normal damage from bronze weapons, and so must resort to random attacks and waylaying travellers on desolate country roads. Enough of its intellect remains for it to utter phrases and pleas for help in order to lure victims, but the demi-vampyr has no real understanding of anything it says. If meleed, the demi-vampyr will battle ferociously (usually with its bare hands or a simple club, and with a maximum fighting skill of DEXx5%) until it sees a chance to escape. A demi-vampyr will obey simple instructions from the vampyr that created it, but has no loyalty and will flee if endangered. Demi-vampyrs have all the vulnerabilities of a true vampyr.

NIGHTSHADES

Nightshades are living dead creatures that are sometimes encountered in woods. They are met only when there is a fog, as they have the magical ability to create shadowy images from fog. This ability is used to confuse and intimidate an enemy by making it seem as though there are many more Nightshades lurking among the trees.

Nightshades are translucent figures drifting forward through the mists. They often seem to be screaming at their victims, but no sound can be heard. Nightshades are protected at all times by a shimmer 3 spell (not included in the Defence above). Bronze weapons pass harmlessly through their insubstantial bodies.

Weapons of Runic metal, or which are under the effect of a spell such as bladesharp, will affect a Nightshade, but only to the extent of doing the basic weapon damage. For example: a fighter with a bronze greatsword slices at a Nightshade. Seeing that he has done it no damage, the fighter now applies a bladesharp 1 to his weapon. This is enough to give the sword power to affect a Nightshade, and the fighter's next strike does the weapon's normal damage (2d8 in this case), without bonuses for the bladesharp spell or the fighter's STR and SIZ.

When a Nightshade touches its opponent there is a tremendous discharge of magical energy. The opponent must match his SIZ+DEX vs twice the damage rolled for the creature's touch (see Knockbacks, Runequest Appendix C). If the touch did 14 points, for instance, and the opponent had SIZ+DEX equal to 24, this would give a 70% chance of a knockback.

If the body of someone slain by a Nightshade is left in the woods where he died then he will become a Nightshade himself once the body has rotted (in 3-18 months).

WIGHTS 

 

*The wight's touch is not a strike; it does no direct damage, but its effect reaches through armour for a POW vs POW attack. If the wight wins, the character suffers 1d3 damage (like a disruption spell) in that body area and loses 1d4 points of STR. When the character's STR reaches 0 he will fall to the ground paralyzed. Even before this, it is likely that he will have become too weak to heft his weapon. Wights usually transform their defeated victims into zombies, but if they are thwarted from doing so then their victim's lost STR recovers at the rate of 1 point an hour.

ARMOUR: None usually; can wear any

SPELLS: Battle magic to INT limit; 1d12 points of Rune magic

SKILLS: Detect Life 80%; Detect Magic 80% (as the spells, but at no POW cost)

Wights are the spirits of the priest-sorcerers of an ancient empire. They inhabit their original bodies (transformed and sustained by their sorcery) and lurk in burial mounds. They are sallowish and dessicated, and their sunken eyes gleam with a preternatural light, but apart from this they look much like a normal man. Wights dress in the rotting, dusty tabards of a bygone age and rarely trouble to wear armour because they are unaffected by bronze weapons. A bronze weapon striking a wight will, moreover, take 5d6 damage due to instantaneous corrosion.

Wights are capable of various exotic Rune magics, including the ability to summon up dense, freezing fog from the moors to lead travelers astray. Wights will travel abroad in such fog, or at night, but abhor the direct light of the sun. Their Rune spells, once used, recover at the rate of 1 point a day, at moonrise. Wights are living dead (not undead) and therefore recover POW normally.

The wight picture at the top is by Ryan Barger and you can buy print copies of it here.

 

Guns in space

I watched Star Trek Beyond last Christmas. It would have been two hours of my life that I’d never get back, but luckily I gave up after twenty-five minutes when it became clear the entire movie was one long videogame cut-scene. All I can say in its defence is that it made Into Darkness seem, in retrospect, not quite so bloody awful.

There was one interesting moment. The Enterprise was attacked by a swarm of little ships. There are spoilers ahoy, by the way, though nothing as dire as actually having to watch the movie itself.

Still here? Okay, those little ships take the Enterprise apart – quickly and completely cut it to ribbons. The shields do nothing to stop them and the phasers seem unable to fire rapid bursts, so that’s that. It would have been more effective if the film makers had done something to set it up. As it was, the scene comes across as the plot development that must happen so that the already-stated theme of the movie (“the major asset of the ship is its crew”) can be slotted into place Ikea-style.

Still, it’s something I’ve wondered about before. Tasked with building a fleet for space combat, would you really build huge battleships? Wouldn’t lots of smaller fighters be more effective?

I’m thinking of Lanchester’s Laws, which establish that when using ranged weapons, the attack strength of a force is proportional to the square of the number of units. Consider two starships against one. Each starship can take two photon torpedo strikes. After one exchange of fire, the solitary vessel is destroyed and the two opponents have lost a quarter of their combined strength.

But it might not be that simple. Maybe the effectiveness of shields goes up non-linearly with the energy put into them. Maybe you can’t build a warp drive or an antimatter containment field smaller than a certain size. We know that the Enterprise’s phasers can cut through a planet’s crust – at least, I think I remember seeing that in one episode. It’s hard to imagine a few hundred TIE fighters pulling that off.

Apparently at the end of the movie the Enterprise gets rebuilt. But why? Having seen that one big vessel is no match for a swarm of smaller ships, does it make sense to revert to the old pattern? That’s reinforcing failure. On the other hand, the scriptwriters will have a hand-wavy plan for getting around it so that sequels can timidly go where Star Wars has gone so many times before.