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A Fork in the Road: Siding with the Duke

Now that we've got the characters started on their expedition into the Duchy of Darimus and described the geographic and political situation, let's take a look at the fork of the road that leads to helping the Duke restore order.

If the players aren't clear as to which side they would want to fight for, help them with some out of character explanation.  (Especially in the case of players who are used to being railroaded all the time).  Siding with the Duke can be done to represent a number of interests.  Some characters would do so, because they believe in the divine right of the noble leadership.  Other power monger characters might hope to gain favor in order to acquire rights to land or title from the Duke.  Some might have an ideological problem with the way that the peasants are rising up.  Still other more practical characters may want to help restore order before the winter comes and the food supplies grow short from an extended rebellion.

Once the characters have decided to work for the Duke and travel to meet with him, start by reading the following paragraph.

Siding with the Duke:

"Regibald has a pleased and relieved look on his face that you have decided to help him. He instructs you that the leaders of the rebels have gathered to formulate a plan to topple the Duchy and take control for themselves. Regibald's men will go to will go to cause a distraction that will force the rebels into believing their time is limited and that they must come up with a plan quickly. Regibald asks that the men be captured if possible, to face trial and possible execution for treason."

The Rebel Hideout:

"On the outskirts of the town of Darimum, which lies near the keep, you set up shop in a three story home that is quite thin and surrounded on both sides by adjoining houses. The first floor is a now closed shop, with the upper two floors being the former home of the shop keeper and his or her family. Across the street is the rebel hideout. They are in a home of similar construction and design. The shop is a cheese shop, still in business. You have witnessed through some limited observation time, that the owner of the cheese shop is in cahoots with the rebels. After waiting for a few hours, you see a lot of commotion in the streets surrounding the cheese shop. You see a few figures wearing dark cloaks, quickly make their way to the inside the shop. It appears that the time to take down the rebel leadership is at hand."

The cheese maker is on watch inside the first level of the shop at the window next to the door. To avoid notice:

Stealth (Average DC): On a failure by over half the group, "The cheese maker quickly moves away from the window, it appears that he moves to warn the others." Any player may optionally use a ranged weapon to make a basic attack against an AC of 12 + Player's level to kill the cheese maker before he can report on their arrival.

If the alarm was raised: All of the rebel leaders have taken up defensive positions on the third level. They all start in cover with readied actions to attack.

If the alarm was not raised: The players will get a surprise round. The rebel leaders are split up between the second and third level of the shop.

Citizen Strauss, 2 Dagger sisters, and Fey friend of the rebels are the leaders.

Citizen Strauss Level 8 Controller

Medium Humanoid

Initiative 9 Exp 350 Senses Perception +7

HP 89; Bloodied 44

AC 22 Fortitude 20 Reflex 21 Will 20

Speed 6

Standard Actions

(R) Distracting Bolts (Range-10)

1d8+5 psychic damage and slowed until the end of his next turn. Also an adjacent enemy to the target is slowed until the end of his next turn.

R Northern Lights (Encounter, Area burst 2 within 10)

+12 vs. Will; 4d8+5 psychic damage and dazed until end of the next turn.

Secondary attack: Level +3 Vs. Reflex; 1d6+5level damage. Shift 6 squares and slide the target to an adjacent square.

Minor Actions

The Fey Shall Aid Us

Place a Fey Minion with 1 HP on any square with defenses equal to Citizen Strauss's. They automatically deal 5 damage to any adjacent enemy at the start of Citizen Strauss's turn.

Alignment Neutral Languages Common, Elven

Skills Arcana +14 Bluff +11

Str 17 (+7) Dex 20 (+9) Wis 17 (+7)

Con 17 (+7) Int 20 (+9) Cha 17 (+7)

Citizen Strauss is a well dressed man for a commoner. He has an air of knowledge and a commanding presence about him.

The Dagger Sister Level 6 Skirmisher

Medium Humanoid

Initiative:9 Exp: 250 Senses Perception +11

HP: 72; Bloodied: 36

AC: 20 Fortitude: 18 Reflex: 19 Will: 18

Speed 6

Standard Actions

(M) Twin daggers

+11 vs. AC; 1d10+4 damage (2d6 extra damage with combat advantage) and +9 vs. Reflex; 1d10+4 damage.

M Poisoned slash (Encounter)

+9 vs. Fortitude; 3d10+4 poison damage and 5 ongoing poison damage (save ends).

Dagger twirl and throw (Recharge 6)

+11 vs. AC; 2d8+4 damage and (Range 5) +11 vs. AC; 1d6+4 damage and if the target is adjacent to a wall or to cover, it is restrained until the end of the dagger sisters next turn.

Move Actions

Dagger sister vow

Shift up to 5 squares to any square adjacent to an enemy who is adjacent to a dagger sister and deal 5 damage to that target.

Free Actions

Ganging up

One dagger sister goes on the initiative rolled, the other goes 10 points lower on the initiative.

Alignment Good Languages Common

Skills Stealth +12 Athletics +11 Perception +11

Str 16 (+6) Dex 19 (+7) Wis 16 (+6)

Con 16 (+6) Int 19 (+7) Cha 16 (+6)

The Dagger sisters are obviously related. They choose to dress in a similar fashion to each other. One has a mole that commands her left check while the other looks a bit more rough around the edges.

Fey Friend of the Rebels Level 8 Artillery

Small Fey

Initiative: 9 Exp: 350 Perception +7

HP: 71; Bloodied: 35

AC: 20 Fortitude: 20 Reflex: 21 Will: 20

Speed 8(Fly)

Standard Actions

(R) Lights from the other side (Range 10 targets 2)

+13 vs. Reflex; 2d8+5 radiant damage and marked by creature of Fey Friend of the Rebels choice until the end of her next turn.

R Illusory Surroundings (Range 10)

+13 vs. Will; 4d8+5 psychic damage (+10 damage if the defense is beaten by 5 or more) and the target takes Ongoing 10 fire damage (save ends).

Move Actions

Just an innocent twinkle toes

Push every adjacent creature 2 squares and Fey Friend of the Rebels shifts up to 4 squares.

Alignment Good Languages Common, Elven

Skills Diplomacy +12

Str 4 (+1) Dex 20 (+9) Wis 17 (+7)

Con 10 (+4) Int 20 (+9) Cha 17 (+7)

The Fey Friend of the Rebels is a cute little creature that no one could feel threatened by from a mere glance. There is a somewhat witty spark to her eye that leads the more observant to be nervous by her presence.

Next Week: We'll take a look at Siding with the Rebels.

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Clockwork Brain Crabs
Encounter; Ashes to Ashes, Part II
Winter Times: Father Winters (Part 1 of 3)
Devouring Zombie [4E D&D]
The Winters Hollow Workshop (Winter Times Part 2 of 3)

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Stories in the Ether, Issue 3 Available Now!

Get it today for all your favorite eReaders from DriveThruFiction.com for only $2.99

Enjoy!

Stories in the Ether, Issue 3

Stories in the Ether is a quarterly story telling anthology of fantasy, steampunk, and science fiction short stories from Nevermet Press. Are you a writer? Consider submitting your story today.

Issue 3 features 12 compelling works including:

Iron Butterfly, by Marie AndrewsBrick Jackson Returns to the Land that Time Forgot, by Ian ToltzUnfamiliar Territory, by Gary WatkinsCruise of the Lightship Venture, by Sevan TaylorThe Raid on Kiel, by Michael ManogueI Made a Friend, by Philip AthansEternal Memories, Kevin P. KilburnInclinations of the Solar Winds, T. Fox DunhamThe Tragic Tale of Doctor Fausset, by O.M. GreyPine Rock, by Daniel MullenSteady and True, by Michael BurnsideThe Patience of Virtue, by David D'Alessio

with illustrations by J Lonnee and Hayley Millward.

Stories in the Ether, Issue 3 will be available on Kindle, NOOK, and the Apple iBookstore very shortly…

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Stories in the Ether, Issue #2 Preview Stories in the Ether – Open Call For Submissions Stories in the Ether, Issue #2 Available Now Stories in the Ether at Apple's iBookstore Stories in the Ether, Issue 1 Released!

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Clockwork Reviews: Phoenix Rising—A Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, by Tee Morris and Pip Ballantine

Phoenix Rising, the first book in the A Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences series from husband-wife duo Tee Morris and Pip Ballantine, is a rich and decadent treat, with some naughty fun served on the side. Perfect for connoisseurs of the steampunk genre.

Before you've barely had a chance to devour a page our heroine, the beguiling New Zealander Eliza Braun, blazes onto the scene to rescue a straight-laced archives keeper named Wellington Books from an early fate in Antarctica. Braun's explosive (in more ways than one) demeanor not only demands your full attention from the get-go, it's clear she favors the spotlight.

One might think Wellington would be very appreciative for the daring rescue, but Books and Braun don't start out on the best of terms. Their working relationship is further soured when Braun is ordered to stay put and act as Wellington's assistant. Tension much? Neither one is particularly happy about the arrangement or being in such close quarters. I admit that I have a soft spot for Books. He has charm and a subtle manner about him, a true gentleman. And he provides some necessary balance for the illustrious Braun.

Not long after the banter between the two begins, Books and Braun uncover some questionable behavior within the ministry, among them a cold case involving Braun's former partner, and they soon find themselves thrust into danger. Then the rousing adventures begin. There are plenty of gadgets, inventions, and atmospheric goodies to appease steampunk fans. Characters are refreshing, original, witty and fun, though the seedy villains may make you squirm. Power punched action scenes keep you flipping pages to seek out what will happen next.

To my delight this was an exciting, albeit complex, set-up to what I'm anticipating to be an exhilarating series. I can't wait to discover what dark secrets Books and Braun have locked away in their pasts in The Janus Affair, and what new perils they'll be sucked into. Whether in the world of engaging dialogue, seedy foes, the ever-shocking and colorful presence of Braun, or keeping tabs on the never ending resourcefulness of Books, you won't get lost in the rubble, even if Eliza has somewhat of a dynamite fetish. Readers of the steampunk genre will applaud the sheer creativity, and readers of any genre will appreciate the evolving growth of the hero and heroine.

Each chapter captures the layered personalities of not only the characters, but the authors, Pip Ballantine and Tee Morris. To become further immersed in the brilliant world of Books and Braun, it should be noted that the authors also have an informative website devoted to The Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences. While there you will find the gorgeous cover of their upcoming book, and more about the talented folks behind the series. Hopefully that will help whet your appetite until the next course. All in all, Phoenix Rising provides an addictive good time.

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Clockwork Reviews: The Native Star, by M. K. Hobson Clockwork Reviews: Gaslight Arcanum – Uncanny Tales of Sherlock Holmes Clockwork Reviews: The Mistborn Trilogy, by Brandon Sanderson "Charlie Darwin, or the Trine of 1809″ Now on Kindle 3 More Books To Boost Your Game Before The New Year

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Ouroboros University: A Musical Education

The "bards" deny any melodrama is going on.

"Bards suck"
-Zack Sabbath   "I take that as a challenge."
-Grumpy Celt

Ouroboros University provides the finest musical teaching for leagues around, providing many with instructions in singing, dance, musical instruments and oration. They also practice the school's fight song. Because of the instructions of Miss Jennifer Zamzanoble (1), and other teachers, many noted warriors, wizards and wanderers may call themselves… "bard."

Carrying a Tune in a Bucket

Take a leap of game logic and bard stops being a single class, but an assortment of powers available to all the other classes. In the real world public speaking – something people find more frightening than dying – is terribly useful (2), using a musical rhythm is a useful tool for remembering lengthy stories and the right tune provokes emotional responses in ways nothing else can.
Why then disparage speaking, rhythm and music?

If even the best warriors have to learn to swing a sword properly, then why should a bard not also train their native skills? The opposite is also true.

Bards suffered from a poor initial organization that started a poor legacy of making them a single musical class, rather than a set of skills and powers available to all classes. Imagine there is no single class called bard, but a set of useful features and powers available to all the classes.(3)

Adventure HooksI've Got no Strings: The department is home to a puppet theater, which is flexible enough for children's productions to avant guard productions (which children should watch only if accompanied by an adult). Recently a war between angels and demons took an odd turn and these immortal creatures found themselves stuck in a host of puppets. The good news is they do not have their angelic or demonic powers, one of them stuck in a 1-foot tall puppet with a wooden sword… though it will possess the cunning of ages.Try it On for Size: Several ghosts to haunt the campus – two are still on the payroll – and in their off hours, they have taken to trying on outfits in the departments extensive costume shop. The management want this sorted out with as little damage to the girdles and wigs as possible.Signs and Portents: It is not all fun and games in the theater department. The facility has a large library of plays, operas, musicals, music, songs and similar forms of entertainment. However, recently something has been causing the text and musical notations to fade, a letter or a word or a note at a time. A blank page remains. Only the tragic works remain unaffected. Those with the "Genre Awareness" feat are the most disturbed by this development.(4)New Feats

A Minor in Musical Training
Prerequisites: Cha 12 and a semester of training at Ouroboros University for each replacement.
Benefit: You may replace any single power or feature from your class with a power or feature of equal power from the bard class when you advance a level.
Special: Replacing eight powers, features or some combination entitles you to call yourself a bard.

Genre Awareness
Prerequisites: Int 6, Perception 0 and a social life more active than that of a sea-sponge.
Benefit: By training or simple awareness you are exceptionally aware of the patterns of life – you know the Evil Overlord List, possess an intuitive understanding of its heroic counterpart, can pick who are role of characters in the story and know what kind of story in which you find yourself.
Special: This is also known as élan.

Other Systems

The series will nominally be in 4E D&D, though much of the material is system neutral and articles present mechanical alternatives.

Savage Worlds

Background Edge – A Minor in Musical Training
Requirements: Musical education at Ouroboros University, Novice, AB (Miracles), Perform d6+
Training in performance and music at Ouroboros University enable a bard to duplicate many of the abilities of a Troubadour, though it is more difficult for the bard than it is for the Troubadour. While they can perform Miracles and attempt to entertain, the difficulty for bards is increased by +2.
Note: Refer to the Troubadour professional edge on page 7 of the Savage Worlds – Fantasy Companion for more information.

Pathfinder

New Feat – A Minor in Musical Training
Prerequisites: Cha 12 and a semester of training at Ouroboros University for each replacement.
Benefit: You may replace any single feature or special power from your class with a feature or special power of equal power from the bard class when you advance a level. This does not include bard spells.
Special: Replacing eight features entitles you to call yourself a bard.
Note: Refer to the Bard Class on page 34 of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook for more information.

1. Zamzanoble possesses two reputations, the first as an excellent teacher and as someone to getting herself and her students into madcap adventures.

2. You might disparage a politician or lawyer, but you should be prudent enough to acknowledge their social power, much of which depends upon their ability to speak persuasively.

3. Why not? While nominally under the rule system of 4E, Ouroboros University is appearing during the twilight of Fourth Edition Dungeons and Dragons. If the rules only served as guidelines before there is no reason to let them stop us now. For that matter, why give any additional rules for bards or music?

4. It is worse than they imagine.

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Those Bastard Ravens Gravesites: Fey Burials Ouroboros University Greetings from December 5th, 1920 [4E] Leadership Feat

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Points on a Map: The Oasis of Del Foor – Personalities

Welcome back to Points on a Map!

Last time we started to describe Ashid, a settlement built around the Oasis of Del Foor. Beneath the trees and near the oasis' waters, travelers can find a brief respite from the heat along with some food, water, and entertainment to keep them busy until it's time to move on.

More than 100 people call Ashid home, operating businesses and services to the many travelers who visit Del Foor. Some services are easy to find and others try to hide in the few shadows afforded by tents and palm trees. At the highest point overlooking the entire oasis lies the Citadel, a fortress held by the El Vaz family for four generations.

As with any small settlement, the residents of Ashid all know one another. But as is the way of the people of the Waste, they are reluctant to pry into the affairs of another without prompting. If you want to talk about your problems, you will inevitably find someone willing to listen and ask questions until you have exhausted your need to share. Foreigners will find it difficult to get the locals to open up unless they are willing to open up over a cup of tea or a shared meal.

Here are a few of the major players in and around Ashid that PCs may encounter…

Personalities

Roovi El Vaz is looked to as the spiritual leader of Ashid and someone who used to take an active role in helping his people take advantage of what the oasis has to offer. Though El Vaz was once seen regularly among the people, he has become more and more reclusive over the last three years. Many have begun to wonder if he passed away or if his unnatural youth had finally faded.

Firmly ensconced at the Citadel, Roovi leaves the day-to-day activities of Ashid to his wives and children. His first wife Bashi and first son Bayim have been doing the rounds and keeping things moving among the merchants and business owners. All major decisions are passed along to Roovi, but Bashi and Bayim have a fair amount of power at their disposal. In addition to Bashi, Roovi has a harem of eight other wives ranging in age from late teens to quite elderly along with their children.

Roovi has not been sitting idle however. He has been acquiring ancient texts (with the help of Jibra Al Ghul) and researching the ruins of his mysterious "Benefactor." Until the number of disappearances rose sharply in recent years, he was content to know no more than necessary to secure the future of Ashid. Now the balance of power has shifted and he is learning all he can.

Jibra Al Ghul is the proprietor of Shariba Al Ghul, also known as the Drink of the Ghoul. His tavern has two faces – the one he shows the locals and the one he saves for special customers seeking something more. Traditionally the people of the Waste shun alcoholic beverages as impure, instead consuming a variety of teas, coffees, and juices. But not every visitor is content with such fare. Foreigners with coin who seek a taste of fermented grape, hard liquor, or ale are directed through word of mouth and bribery to the Ghoul. Though it is largely illegal to sell such beverages in the Waste, Al Ghul has an agreement with El Vaz to ensure his customers stay happy.

Jibra himself is a jovial man by nature, but paranoid through a lifetime of experience hiding the truth. He is Roovi's son from a marriage a generation ago and privy to the secrets of Ashid's success. In a back room of the Ghoul lies a hidden entrance to the tunnels beneath the sands connecting the few permanent buildings in Ashid. These tunnels allow El Vaz to travel unseen to and from the chamber of the Benefactor when necessary for the yearly sacrifices. Jibra knows what would happen if any of El Vaz secrets were made public as well as the current crisis his father has been investigating…

Faraj Al Bahiri is one of the busiest people in Ashid, managing the Dawn and Dusk Market that appears like magic in the first hour of pre-dawn on the horizon and the last hour after the sun goes down each day. The market offers local growers and artisans a chance to show off their newest and freshest products for locals and visitors alike. The speed with which the stalls are assembled and collapsed is something to behold as the ten to twenty-five vendors arrive and depart each day. And the locals and visitors are ready when the market opens, swooping in like a flock of hungry birds.

Al Bahiri is also one of the most powerful men in Ashid, second only to El Vaz and his family. Vendors seeking the opportunity to sell their wares must first present themselves and their products to him for approval. Each vendor granted entry to the market must give Al Bahiri the first 20% of any profits made on a particular day. The smallest issues can result in a vendor being dismissed without right to an appeal for a year. As such, Al Bahiri's tents are always filled with priceless art, the freshest produce, and the best of everything the market has to offer.

He is assisted by his brother Thakim and his three wives Jala, Mayr, and Radee, as well their children as they come of age. Many of the people who live in Ashid year-round work on the market setup crew to earn a little extra income.

Madam Torha is the benevolent dictator in charge of Zahar Nuzl (i.e. the Inn of Flowers) and the queen of the tea room therein. It is impossible to find a better cup of tea than one brewed personally by the Madam. Even Jibra Al Ghul is jealous of the Madam's tea skills and is a regular visitor to the tea room. Torha is one of the eldest merchants in Ashid and is in fact one of El Vaz' wives who left Ashid in a time of turmoil to learn more of the outside world only to return 25 years later to take over the inn.

The Madam is attended to by a small staff who manage the small number of rooms and tents available to visitors.

Bakhi El Taḥad is the owner of Al Asfar Ibil (i.e. "The Yellow Camel") and is easily spotted in the yellow tent at the center of a herd of camels of varying sizes and conditions near the Dawn or Dusk Market. Though blind, he can quickly discern the quality of any camel you choose to sell him and is sure to find even the smallest flaw as a way to reduce his cost. El Tahad is Ashid's gossip monger even after having his eyes burned out after witnessing something he shouldn't have seen as a child. Camel sales are brisk and it is rumored that El Tahad can tell if you are lying merely by the tone of your voice. But if your heart is pure, he will tell you all he knows for a bargain.

Saleema is El Tahad's only wife and his confidant. She lets her husband do the talking and quietly manages the money and logistics behind the scenes.

Emzi Al Vul manages the Baths, one of Ashid's most popular attractions. The water remains at a constant temperature day and night, offering a refreshing cool during the heat of the day and warmth during the cold desert nights. Al Yul is one of the few female business owners in Ashid and a good friend of Madam Torha.

The Baths are staffed by three ladies and two men who attend to any of their customers' needs from fresh towels and scented oils to clothes cleaning, hair cutting, steam and massage therapies. Men and women bathe in different pools to maintain propriety.

Maaz Al Yad was a visitor to Del Foor who was down on his luck when he arrived. One night while staying in the common tent at Zahar Nuzi, he was knocked out and when he awoke he was in a room with stone walls, a strange statue and no visible doors or windows. A vapor began seeping from small holes in the statue and he began hearing voices… screaming. When the screaming stopped and the vapors disappeared, he heard a single voice ask what he was willing to do to survive. Thus began Al Yad's relationship with the demon Beyesh.

Before the demon, Al Yad was a liar and a thief seeking power. After making the deal with Beyesh, he discovered he had a knack for finding the weak and powerless and offering them to his new master. In exchange, he gained newfound strength and powers of deception and perception. As he found more souls for his master, he also learned more of Beyesh and how he'd grown bored with his other servant. Beyesh wishes to regain his strength so he can escape his prison. Al Yad was his way to freedom.

In Ashid, the people have grown more paranoid as more people have disappeared. No longer is just the occasional visitor vanishing without a trace, now it is sometimes entire caravans and even a few residents fading into thin air – fifty in all since Al Yad began his campaign of terror.

The demon of the sands, Beyesh (aka "The Benefactor"), is as old as the Waste and just as willing to wear down anyone and anything that gets in its way. Long ago the demon was free to destroy whomever and whatever he wished. The Waste was his home and he wandered seeking souls to torture. More than a thousand years ago, a huge battle was fought and Beyesh was imprisoned in a stone tomb by a powerful hero. The tomb was left in the care of a group of priests. Sometime after the tomb complex was built, the desert swallowed the oasis in a massive sandstorm and the priests tasked with keeping the demon at bay all perished.

More than anything, the demon seeks freedom to assume his old ways. To do so, he must regain his strength by consuming one soul at a time. So far he has consumed nearly 200 souls and needs only a few more to have enough power to break his bonds. He can communicate with Al Yad wherever he wishes and with El Vaz when he is close enough, as well as consuming the souls of each sacrifice brought to his chambers. But beyond that he is limited to what his agents can do on his behalf outside the tomb.

GMs can do many things with Beyesh. If the party should be foolish enough to set him free, Beyesh could be an excellent enemy and the party could have to put the "genie back in the bottle" or destroy him completely. But not before the demon has caused some havoc in the outside world. The number of souls Beyesh requires to escape could be a handful or could be several hundred more, depending on how you wish the plots to resolve.

Rumors, Observations, and Hearsay

It is believed that the Baths have remarkable healing properties and most of the residents in the area take advantage of their waters regularly.
Some believe that Al Ghul is the son of Madam Torha, though neither has ever spoken of such a relationship.
In a small grove of palms a short walk from the oasis is a pile of stones believed to be an ancient temple. Many locals leave offerings at the temple to gain the gods' favor.
Some have begun to believe that Roovi El Vaz has passed away and that is why he hasn't been seen outside The Citadel in several years.
It is believed that if you need something… anything… you have two avenues to explore: Faraj Al Bahiri and Jibra Al Ghul. Your results may vary.
Nobody is talking about the disappearances, but everyone gets very nervous when foreigners start asking questions.
Madam Torha has several teas that prolong life, enhance virility, reduce pain, cure disease, and offer other magical benefits.
The main pool of Del Foor has grown deeper and wider over the last few years for some mysterious reason.
Occasionally strange figures approach the oasis from the Deep Waste but refuse to come closer than a few hundred yards. They disappear when approached.
The last sand storm was observed to change direction and avoid Ashid as if guided by an invisible hand.

 

In the next installment, we'll focus on some of the plot hooks and story elements that can be used to work Ashid into your campaign. How can anyone stop more people from disappearing?

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Highcourt, City on the Edge
Fantastic Locations: Agharta & The Hollow Earth
The Great Beyond – Surf's Up!
Gravesites: Hall of Righteous Bones (Area)
The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker: Part III

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Are Alien Big Cats stalking your players?

Looking for some spice for your roleplaying game? Perhaps a new monster? But of course, without flavour, any new creature is just a bunch of statistics. So let's turn to the stranger sort of news that we can find in the real world, and look at what cryptozoologists call Alien Big Cats. After all, every GM should know his ABCs.

Cryptozoology is the study of unknown or undiscovered creatures, and is a rich vein for game masters looking to challenge their players with a new and exciting encounter. Not only has this pseudo-science given us yetis, sasquatches and Loch ness monsters to play with, it can also provide us with plenty of inspiration for plot hooks and whole adventures.

So what are Alien Big Cats? This real world phenomena  describes not, as you may suspect, kitties from the beyond the stars, but large predatory cats reported in places where they couldn't possibly be able to survive, typically because the area the creature has been spotted in does not have the right sort of prey animals to support the beast's diet.  A typical ABC story involves someone being stalked and injured by an enormous animal which appears suddenly and then vanishes.

Reports of enormous cats coming out of nowhere have come from all over the world. In India, they are called Pogeyan, which means "the cat that comes and goes like the mist". In the United Kingdom, the Royal Marines were sent out in moorlands around Devon and Somerset to hunt down the Beast of Exmoor, following a spate of livestock deaths.  At the time, soldiers reported a few sightings, and claimed that the creature behaved with human-like intelligence. It was never found (and was later dismissed as a hoax).

Do you know your ABCs?

For a GM, this sort of thing is a great place to start a story. 

RPGs such as Dungeons & Dragons like to describe the natural habitats of creatures, and taking a monster out of its habitat and setting it on the PCs is an old trick. However, the reasons behind such an encounter can provide a great deal of fun. Perhaps the reason there's a huge panther successfully stalking the streets of some classic medieval city is because someone has let a gift intended for royalty escape, or an overly elaborate murder plan has gone awry and now the beast is loose. Perhaps a cult has captured and perhaps enhanced the beast and is using it as an assassin. (This also happens to be the plots of the excellent 2001 French film The Brotherhood of The Wolf, which is also loosely based on fact.) If you want a high level threat, maybe the creature has wandered in via a magical portal; a straight-forward monster hunt may then swiftly become a desperate struggle to prevent an invasion.

RPGs set in the modern day are just as suitable; one does not expect to encounter a huge albino lion when going for a coffee, after all. Subway systems and abandoned apartment blocks make for fantastically creepy lairs, and for those looking for a mundane explanation for why there's an ABC in a major city don't have to look very far for a reason; they are private collectors of exotic animals in the real world, and they have been reports of tigers kept in New York apartment blocks as recently as 2003.)

One of the theories surrounding the ABC phenomena suggests that the animal has adapted its diet somehow, so it's possible that an entire pride of the beasts lurk somewhere in the city. The adapted diet may include human flesh, or maybe just coffee.  Or perhaps they only eat coffee shop regulars. ABC's also make an excellent red-herring for games featuring Vampires or Werewolves; Monster hunters who rely too heavily on supernatural solutions may have their hands full when they realise panthers aren't repulsed by crucifixes, and though silver bullets will kill ordinary creatures, it's an expensive solution.

Introducing ABCs into your game doesn't come with its own problems though. Consider, for example, your favorite game's rules for tracking: though this skill can often be a handy way to move an adventure forward, in scenarios where a small band of heroes are being stalked by a hidden and incredibly powerful beast a good (or bad, depending on your POV) roll of the dice can bring the adventure to a disappointing stop. Of course, the legend of the ABC is that they are very hard to spot.  We can circumvent tracking rules in a few ways; the simplest is to cheat and to give the beast the power to turn into mist, turn invisible or perhaps teleport if discovered.  For those who want a mundane explanation, then we can use an environmental reason (such as hard, icey ground making anything hard to track), give the creature very high intelligence (allowing it to cover its tracks as it moves around), or simply give the beast better local area knowledge; if it's using underground caves, sewer systems or air vents then the tracker will have to discover that these things exist before he can successfully hunt down the beast.

Another problem is, of course, the beast itself.  Some systems make it easy for the party to overwhelm a single monster and this can be a bit anticlimatic if the PCS have been tracking the creature for an extended period of time. If you've spent the last couple of hours building tension, the last thing you want is a short messy fight at the end.  However, the stories we tell about the single solitary, ghost like threat fit perfectly for a game involving an ABC. If you're running a one-shot game or some sort of horror, you can steal an idea from movies like Predator or Alien; have the creature pick of the party one by one.  This is often not practical for entire parties, but can be a marvellous way to dispose of that annoying NPC the players insist on keeping around. Another technique from the same book is to grind the PC's down through a series of environmental threats.  An intelligent creature which knows the area well enough can easily draw a party of people into natural traps, dangerous rivers and unsafe ground.  After all, why risk a confrontation when you can make soften up your prey by making it fall down a ravine? Ultimately, the struggle should make the creature's demise all the more satisfying.

So, whatever your preference, ABCs—as a general category of adversaries—can provide some intrigue, tension and exciting combat to your game. They are have much in common with Reoccurring Villains, but where the villain usually has intellect and parting-words-that-reveal-their-plans, a hard to find Alien Big Cat has beastly brawn and a hidden agenda (eating humans; Surprise!)

Have you used ABCs in your game? If so, what has worked well?

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Slumbering Heroes – A Super-Powered Campaign Setting
Fantastic Locations: Agharta & The Hollow Earth
Cupid [4E]
Lion Men of the Steppes
The Hope Day Massacre [4E D&D]

Visit the original post, Are Alien Big Cats stalking your players?, at Nevermet Press. Subscribe via RSS, Twitter, or Facebook.

A Fork in the Road: Setting the stage

Last week we kicked off "A Fork in the Road" series with the set up of an adventure designed to put player choice first, rather than scripted outcomes. This week, we'll delve a bit further into the Duchy. Sandbox style adventures require a well developed setting for the PCs to play in, otherwise the absence of detail limits the perceived availability of choices. In our case, we want to make sure the PCs have all the details needed so they have the right context for their decision to either side with the Rebels or join the Duke in fighting them.

The Duchy of Darimus

Geography

The lands that make up the Duchy border a vast forest to the west. The locals call it the Endless Forest, as no travelers have come through that forest and no travelers that have set off through the forest have ever returned. The center of the Duchy is the seat of power for the local lands, the city of Darimor. The city is dominated by a massive castle surrounded by a sprawling urban crawl that heads down the banks of the river, Thousand Pikes, which runs North-South through the city. To the north, a treacherous path leads up into the mountains where many of the tributaries of the Thousand Pikes River begin. This mountain haven is the home of another of the Lords who pay homage to Duke Darimus. A small mountain pass allows for trade with lands north of the mountains, but it is a rarely used passage in the current age.

The largest town in the Duchy is the port town of Trayan, at the mouth of the Thousand Pikes River. The eastern lands of the Duchy are the open plains that support most of the populace with food stuffs. A mostly wooden six foot wall marks the entire running boundary of the eastern part of the Duchy.

Politics

The state of affairs in the Duchy are in flux. In the western part of the Duchy, a time of mourning has arrived for many of the nobles and even peasants. The Lord of the land died during a recent holiday, his only son was also slain. While some mourn, other noble houses maneuver and vie for control of the Lordship.

The eastern lands, which are far more important to the survival of the Duchy, are filled with words of revolt. Two noble houses, one local (the Lollygaggers), and one from Darimor (the Blarfelts), have recently been charged by the local populace with using commoners for their sick games. Apparently, the two houses have been taking commoners captive, taking them out far from their villages, and setting them loose to run for their lives.

Duke Regibald Darimus

The Duke is very concerned about the implications made against these two noble houses. What he is most concerned about though, is the revolt of the commoners. He can't simply hand over the heads of the Lollygaggers and the Blarfelts without a good deal of backlash from his nobles. Duke Darimus sends out a call from his own personal riders to spread word that he seeks out individuals outside of the nobility to help him keep this situation under control.

Tying in previous works

The Hope Day Massacre describes the Manor of Sir Boon, a local lord. This local lord is the same described in the current state of affairs of the western lands. Assume that the cottage of The Krampus was located within the edges of the Endless Forest. If that encounter ended with the result of one of the players vying for the lordship of Sir Boon's Manor, they could also be heading to court to help solve the Duke's problems to prove their worth.

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

A Fork in the Road: Starting the Adventure
The Hope Day Massacre [4E D&D]

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The Emerald City, by Per Wiger

In reckless dreams I stalk the streets of a darkened city as blood pools and seeps through the cracks in the cobblestone path beneath my feet. In one hand I hold a sword wreathed with blue flame and in my left a flashlight burns.

My light skips and jumps from shadow to doorway to overpass and buttress. I am searching for something in the dreams, but I know not what. Something finds me, it is inevitable. It comes creeping at first, hiding from my senses as though frightened of me; all I hear is the skittering of disturbed gravel or the crack of a baked clay tile snapping under foot.

The city opens up around me as my path leads me up a hill. Narrow alleyways become first roads and then thoroughfares and I begin to see the bodies. They hang from light poles and lay sprawled in the streets. I can sense the thing that is following me, and instinctively I know that there are more of the creatures. They are beginning to surround me. I have to get to higher ground.

I begin to run, no longer the hunter.  I am now the prey. I leap over half-seen bodies and blasted piles of rubble as my hand light casts a strobe-like effect over the scene. I can hear them now. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of one, a scaled hand or snapping tentacle at the edge of my vision. My blood pounds in my ears and I push myself faster.

Houses fall away on either side of me; tenements become houses and then mansions, each one set further from the road then the one before. It is a part of the city that I don't know at all and I begin to feel terribly exposed, but now at least I can nearly make out my pursuers, dead eyed and red mouthed.

All of a sudden I come to the precipice, a great jetty of stone shooting out over the greater part of the city. Over the narrow places, the dirty places, where the real people live, and I can see the skyline shrouded in fog. There are lights at the tops of the buildings, burning gold and pale; beneath them, mystic green, glowing spires stab towards the sky.

I stop for too long, staring entranced, and when I look down I see that my pursuers are crawling up towards me, swarming up the rough worn stone. Behind me they are closing in, I cannot get out, cannot escape.

So I rush back to the street and there, in the ring described by a wane streetlight, I drop my light and take the sword in both hands. As the flashlight rolls into darkness my foes flinch from its rays. I stand, feet apart waiting for the first of the things to enter the ring of light. I wait, jaw set, to die.

They encircle me, taking all the time in the world—but always, as the first darts forward, I wake up.

#

It's raining. I lay huddled in my long coat on the third floor of a partially collapsed building. Once upon a time it was a school. I live in what was once a science classroom. I have a nest of blankets in the space beneath the teachers desk and I can close the sliding doors to further hide myself from prying eyes, and I store the books and ephemera, the tools that keep me alive, amongst ancient beakers crusted with chemicals in a locker at the back of the room.

The roof leaks, but I am tall and reluctant to fold myself under the desk so long as I feel safe enough to avoid that fate, so I am damp and cold. I stand and stretch as I prowl the perimeter of my lair, checking that the line of salt remains unbroken. It is almost meditative, renewing in grease pen the runes of warding that shield me from scrying and those who would peer into the future.

Satisfied, I cross to the locker whispering words that ripple in the air, for those that know how to see, but that are heard only by reality. I grasp the lock. It pops open with a faint click and I swing the door wide. From the locker I take a pendulum and a deck of cards; each card is densely crowded with runes and intricate diagrams that seem to shift under close inspection. These I tuck into the pockets of my coat, but not before taking the old leather holster from its peg above the spooled guts of a Bunsen burner and fix it to my belt. The revolver rests on my right hip.

I walk out of the room and snap my fingers. The locker swings shut.

Outside it's gray and dreary, and burnt posters for shows that will never be shown rustle in the dirty wind. What few rays of light pierce the leaden cloud cover seem only to highlight the cracks in the road and the dust on broken storefront windows. It's been eleven months since The End, since the bombs went off and the survivors fled. Eleven months since those of us who practice the Art have been able to sleep without dreaming of the other side—without visiting the world beyond the Veil, where we are hunted by creatures of nightmares. It is the place from where we draw our power, taking sustenance with each of their deaths. Energy is conserved, even with the Art, and they feed off of our dead as we feed off of theirs, and there has been so much death here that the hunters have begun to cross.

They are still just shadows here, but every day those shadows grow longer. I try to shake off the black mood overtaking me and carefully make my way down the street, always keeping my third eye open, peering ahead for danger. Today, I make it to my destination without incident.

The market lies in what used to be a central line subway station. Hundreds of men and women gather to swap scavenged goods, buy or sell foodstuffs and services and the little things that we can still make. More importantly it provides us with a place where we can remember what it is to be human.

Descending the three flights of stairs, I enter the bazaar. Before me sprawls two miles of densely packed humanity. A sizable portion of the city is represented here, some say as many as ten percent of the survivors at a given time pack into these precariously supported tunnels.

Lights are strung from the ceiling, powered by the engines of the old trains—some of the only artificial lighting left in the city. In the moments it takes my eyes to adjust I am offered an apple, a blow job, and a fortune telling. All from the same stand, the same young gentleman wrapped in silken scarves. I pass him by with a wave of my hand and begin to swim through the crowd. There are few people that don't recognize me here, even if they don't know my name.

"Michael!" I call out, "You lazy swine, where are you?" My favorite breakfast stand is tucked into a gap between two concrete support pillars. In the space behind a plywood counter he has rigged a rudimentary  water system out of scavenged pipes, as well as an oven and small stove top from oil drums, metal grating, and two or three backyard barbecues. It is a kitchen that would have made Rube Goldberg very proud.

"Coming, coming…" echoes the genially ornery reply from around the corner. A slightly portly older man with a heavily lined face and gruff demeanor soon follows. "Ah, freak," he says, "the usual?"

"If it's not too much trouble." He fills a chipped coffee mug with the black sludge he calls coffee before turning back to busy himself with the food on his griddle. After a few minutes I receive a plate of sauced scrambled eggs and a wedge of dark bread. While I eat he keeps up a stream of discourse with the several other patrons that gravitate to his counter. He is determinedly difficult, and despite his successful shop, eager to gripe entertainingly on almost any topic.

As I finish off my eggs he turns to me, "You paying today?"

"I suppose so." I keep a running tab with anyone I do regular business with, "What do you want me to do?" A favor is the hardest currency that I have ready access to.

"Nothing much, delivery run is all." He licks his lips, uncharacteristically nervous.

"And what precisely would I be running?" It wasn't the sort of job I was normally asked to do. Anyone can do transportation, they usually ask me for something a bit more difficult; shore up the foundation of a house so that it stops collapsing, or purify a vat of water. Anything they would have relied on machines for a year ago.

"Meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. There was a slaughter last night on the north side, Warehouse 49. Jim Gattis runs the place and he owes me a hundred and fifty pounds of assorted meats, I need to get them over here and cured before they go bad, but there's no way in hell me or any of my people are running meat from the north side these days." Coming out of the winter the dogs were hungry and hunting in packs. It was something we were having trouble getting used to.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. Send your scrip with me so he doesn't ask questions."

"No shit." from his apron he produces a grubby book of yellow paper, stapled at one end.

Thumbing through it he finds a relatively grease-free page and tears it out, scribbles a few illegible words with the stub of a pencil that normally lives behind his ear, and then signs it with a flourish. He hands it to me and I tuck it into my left pants pocket.

"You have a good morning, I'll see you in a couple hours."

"I'll see you, freak."

I walk away through the throngs of people. Emerging from the station a few minutes later I'm struck again by how quiet the city is. A few figures scurry furtively between buildings but away from the bazaar I hear no laughter or shouting. I smell little but the detritus of wild things. As I walk I re-wrap my kafiya against the wind.

#

When I've a mind to do so, I can travel quickly. So long as it is just me, I have no baggage, and the sun is in the sky. I draw the back of cards from my pocket, and thumb through for the Deuce of Spades. There is danger inherent in any magic, and the more extravagant it is the greater the potential consequences. I could step instantaneously to the north side, into the warehouse itself even, but it would light up in the minds of every Practitioner in the city, and I know better than to want that. Besides, it would mean passing wholly across the Veil, an increasingly dangerous proposition these days.

Instead I hold the card between my thumb and forefinger and speak a word of activation. A pall falls over my surroundings. The details outside become blurred and indistinct. Sounds seem to come from far, far away. I stride forward and the city slips around me. I'm frictionless. A few people see me, but none that comprehend what they saw. The spirit of a young girl, dead for some time I believe, is caught up in my wake and buffeted along behind me for several blocks before she is pulled back to her locus with a snap.

Then, dream like, I am standing in front of the warehouse. Even without directions I would have been able to find it; the sickly sweet smell that emanates from it couldn't be anything but fresh meat. Shaking my I head I rap my knuckles against the steel door several times and then wait, one hand resting on the rough concrete wall.

Several minutes pass without response and I knock again. When I still hear nothing I try the door. Unsurprisingly it does not yield under my hand, meat is a valuable commodity and Gattis knows that better than most people. The nine of spades comes out and the door shivers as I set its magic against the lock. With a sickening crack, the tumblers snap open and I push my way inside.

The warehouse is dark, and largely empty save for several boxes neatly packed in its center. Something is moving in the dimness, something that I can feel more than see. It is not Jim Gattis, he is twisting in mid-air, a meat hook set under his rib cage, his limbs askew.

The warehouse is two stories tall, with windows on the second story. The window across from me is broken inwards, and the floor is scattered with prismatic shards of glass. I draw my pistol and cock the hammer back, no time to play with cards, though the spells written into the diamonds are my best shields and the clubs provide a more nuanced battery of offensive options.

I fish my pendulum from a pocket and let it dangle between the third and fourth fingers of my left hand, which I hold palm up. It describes several circuits of the room as I mutter refinements to the spell of searching with which it is imbued. In under a minute I feel a distinct tugging.

I exhale slowly as I allow the pendulum to lead me. I hold my gun at the ready, eyes probing the darkness, but even taking care I don't see the dog before it is in mid leap. It is a massive gray beast, with a hollow stomach and burning eyes. I throw myself backwards, rolling to avoid the pounce, and my pendulum goes skittering across the floor, still writhing to face the dog.

By sight alone I can tell that there is something wrong about the creature, it is too quiet, too hard to pick out of the shadows, and most of all it is unnaturally strong and fast. That leap was easily a hundred feet, judging by the tugging of the pendulum, and it had enough force behind it to knock me unconscious if not kill me outright.

Still, strange as it is the dog has to take time to recover from its pounce. I bring the gun to bear and pull the trigger, the hammer falls on an empty chamber and a bolt of pure magical force leaps from the barrel, striking the creature in the chest and throwing it into an empty packing crate that shatters under the impact.

I stand and dust myself off, turning to find my pendulum. That saves my life, because I notice that it is still wriggling, straining towards the crate. Without looking I leap to my left, re-cocking the gun, crooning words of bolstering and destruction.

Spinning around I expect to see the dog standing where I had been a moment before, but it is lying in the remnants of the crate, unmistakably dead. A smoke or mist is rising from its body, pale, effervescent green.

With a curse I make safe the gun and return it to its holster. Scooping up the pendulum as I begin to run. When I risk a glance over my shoulder I can see a figure taking shape from the mist, indistinct still, and ephemeral, but full with menace.

In the far corner of the warehouse I make my stand. Working as quickly as possible I sketch a pentagram in grease-pen and, standing in the center, I lay out the Ace, Four, Seven, Two, and Jack of Diamonds, beginning in front of me and working clockwise. A word of command and the array bursts into ghostly flame before vanishing from mortal sight.

The figure is stalking towards me and where its feet fall pieces of concrete vaporize and join with its corpus. There is only one card in the deck that may effect a creature from beyond the Veil and I know that if it fails I will be reduced to my wits and creativity, and the power of my words. Not for the first time those seem like rather fragile weapons.

Crossing the fingers of my left hand I fish out the suicidal King of Clubs and toss it, casually, towards the oncoming creature. Calling out unheard words that shake the dust from the rafters I see the card beginning to glow, and slow in its flight, orienting itself to hang in thin air before the oncoming creature. I crouch down, and at the edges of my vision I see the ghostly patterns of the wards I called into being moments before, silently I urge them to work.

The figure reaches for the card and my breath catches in my throat as fascinated, it takes the card in its hand.

The shock wave sends cracks running through the walls and floor of the warehouse but, sheltered from the worst of it by my wards, I am able to absorb the better part of the energy from the creatures death.

With a word I dismiss my active spells and look about, wondering how to explain what had just happened to the late butcher's expectant customers. I will deal with it somehow. After all, I am the Wizard and this is my City.

END

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Dark Days in Bright City, by Matt Delman
Life's Work, by David J. Wright
Cole Jenkins & The Mechanical Advantage, by Sevan Taylor
The Prison: Come In. We've Expected You
What Roads, by Marissa Wolden

Visit the original post, The Emerald City, by Per Wiger, at Nevermet Press. Subscribe via RSS, Twitter, or Facebook.

Clockwork Reviews: The Native Star, by M. K. Hobson

M. K. Hobson leads her readers through an exciting adventure with just a smattering of romance in her debut novel, The Native Star. Set in 1876 in an alternate Wild West, the novel follows Emily Edwards and her unwanted companion, Dreadnought Stanton, across the United States as they seek answers about a mysterious artifact. Hobson's beautifully crafted world combines steampunk technology with a variety of types of magic, creating a genre that one reviewer refers to as "witchpunk."

Though the novel begins with a prologue far removed from the main action of the rest of the novel, it kicks things off with a bang. As Hobson gradually reveals more and more of the world, all of the pieces begin to fall into place. The entire novel is filled with suspense and intrigue, and will keep you turning the pages to find out what happens next.

The central character, Emily Edwards, is a Witch of a natural tradition of witchcraft. She encounters a strange stone, and in an act of desperation, grabs it. When the stone fuses into her hand, she and Dreadnought Stanton, a Warlock from a more structured school, endeavor to learn more about the stone and how to remove it from her hand. The stone, a powerful magical item that prevents magic from working in its vicinity, complicates their ability to do this without attracting attention. Along the way, Emily and Dreadnought encounter a variety of allies and enemies with complex motives, making their task more difficult.

The interplay between Emily and Dreadnought, rivals who must work together in order to survive, is wonderfully written. Throughout much of the book, their enmity makes you wonder how this book could be called a romance. It does not contain the trappings of a usual romance, with heaving bosoms and strapping men. But the romantic elements that are present are far more delightful and realistic than those found in a traditional romance novel.

It is difficult to pick out anything in particular that I didn't like in this book. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and I honestly think my only complaint would be a few loose ends that weren't tied up by the end of the novel. But as this book is the first in a series, it is not surprising that some of the plot threads woven in this book would continue into future books.

I think that readers who have enjoyed the books in the Parasol Protectorate series by Gail Carriger would also enjoy The Native Star. While Hobson's protagonists are generally more serious than those in Carriger's novels, there is a nice amount of humor that comes out, particularly in the interactions between Emily and Dreadnought. The Native Star is a different sort of alternate history than the Parasol Protectorate series, but both worlds make good use of steampunk technology as an integral part of the setting.

The second book in Hobson's series, The Hidden Goddess, came out in April of 2011, and continues the lives of the protagonists from The Native Star. Two additional tentative titles in this series, The Warlock's Curse and The Unsteady Earth, have also been announced. I can only hope that this series will continue beyond these four novels, as I very much enjoy Hobson's storytelling style and the world that she has created.

EDITOR'S NOTE: You can follow M.K. Hobson's progress on her current novels at her blog, Demimonde.

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Clockwork Reviews: Gaslight Arcanum – Uncanny Tales of Sherlock Holmes
Clockwork Reviews: The Mistborn Trilogy, by Brandon Sanderson
"Charlie Darwin, or the Trine of 1809″ Now on Kindle

Visit the original post, Clockwork Reviews: The Native Star, by M. K. Hobson, at Nevermet Press. Subscribe via RSS, Twitter, or Facebook.

Things to Love, Things to Hate: February RPG Blog Carnival

Illustration © 2011, Rob Torno

The Unofficial Official RPG Blog Carnival Logo.

February belongs to Cupid – it's a month of love and lust, want and wonder. On the flip side, it's also a month of scorn, disappointment, and frustration for some (and we  pity them all too). So, being that we're all gamers and we all love our RPGs to death – the topic for this month's RPG Blog Carnival is "Things to Love, Things to Hate!" 

The possible things we could explore that we love and hate about our hobby could go on forever. So, let's keep things focused on Game Systems and/or Adventures we love or hate, and why. Some quick suggestions might include

What are the best adventures made of? What about the worst of them?
What kills an adventure before it even gets off the ground?
Some say it's all a matter of opinion, but I say some game systems are clearly just better than others (read:more fun to play). What's your favorite system? What are the things you love about it most? WHY?
With [insert new edition of some cool game] on the horizon, I'm sure you have an opinion  regarding what the next edition should or shouldn't be once it's out. Share your thoughts. Let your readers know where you stand and who you love!

So, go forth and blog it out. Just make sure to link back here or to leave a comment so that I can include you in the end-of-the-month round up too! If you don't have a blog of your own, but have a burning desire to get something off your chest, why not guest blog on Nevermet Press? A carnival is a great way to start – heck, the topic is already picked out for you! =D

And… while you're waiting for the RPG blogging community to response – why not check out last month's carnival: "Fantastic Locations" hosted by Keith Davies. Over 40 (!) posts on new made-of-awesome places to set your adventures. What an amazing response! Nice work Keith!

Want to host a future month of the carnival? Check out the archive and sign up there.

Related stories on Nevermet Press:

Bad Ass Gaming (July RPG Blog Carnival)
July RPG Carnival Round Up on Badass Gaming
Merry Krampus! Let the Carnival Begin!
Krampus is Coming Back… in a Carnival!
RPG Blog Carnival – New Year, New Game!

Visit the original post, Things to Love, Things to Hate: February RPG Blog Carnival, at Nevermet Press. Subscribe via RSS, Twitter, or Facebook.