The GM's reflections
Neither a lament nor confessions: that's already an improvement!
I was really nervous about last Sunday's game. There were 2 reasons for this. Regular readers will already be familiar with one. I really felt like calling the day off as the appointed time loomed, but I'd told everyone it was on, and Brian in particular had been expecting us to restart a week later. So I felt I couldn't let everyone down. Well, not until I started GM'ing the session at least.
The other reason for my nerves was the scenario. In case you don't know, I'm running The Ashes of Middenheim, part 1 of the 3-part WFRP2 campaign Paths of the Damned. After the 'it was all just a terrible dream' detour of late last year, I'd been pretty pleased to get the party back to Middenheim so that we could get stuck into the 2nd part of the campaign. Then came the holiday break, and I spent a couple of weeks reading through the material.
I've read quite a lot of complaints about AoM on the BI forums. These could be summed up as the campaign being a boringly linear MacGuffin-hunt overly dependent on combat and railroading. At the time I felt that people were missing the point: AoM is designed for novice GM's new to WFRP, not for the diehard fans with years of roleplaying- in the Old World and elsewhere- under their belts. I stand by this, but all the same, I experienced a sinking feeling as I read and reread the material I was going to be GM'ing next.
The first thing that bugged me was the set-up: the PC's are called to visit a priest of Ulric; introduced to a blind old geezer who's having dreams about daemons and lots of blood; and told that these are portents of the presence of a powerful chaos artefact that the PC's must retrieve to prevent it falling into the wrong hands. Oh yes, and thanks to the dreams, the aging blind priest is a psychic tracker who can home in on the location of this daemonic icon.
The thing is, the Old World being what it is, it struck me that the sensible thing to do in that situation would be to call in the witch hunters and have the old guy carted off to the thumbscrews and the stake. Not to go marching off into the depths of a forest known for being infested with beastmen hordes, not to mention the remnants of Archaon's chaos horde only recently defeated in the siege of Middenheim, and with only a blind man as your guide.
The prospect of another journey through the Drakwald forest didn't appeal to me too much either: I'd come to grief too many times for comfort mismanaging long journeys last year. The thing is you see, the Old World is supposed to be a dangerous place. The Empire that is the centre of human civilisation is rife with outlaws and similar lowlives. And the Drakwald is infamous as a centre of beastmen and similar horrors. So the idea of parties of PC's making uneventful journeys lasting weeks or more sits rather uncomfortably with me. I'm getting over it now I guess, but painful memories were still too fresh as I read this part of AoM over the holidays.
And even if I didn't screw up the journey through the Drakwald with another random ambush, what were the party facing when they arrived at the scene? A goddam dungeon bash. OK, OK, it was just a small dungeon- a tomb in a burial mound in fact, but it was still an underground complex with monsters magically appearing from nowhere, secret doors, traps, and so on. My players would never buy this I thought, even if they did manage to get in at all.
Manage to get in at all? Was I planning another perfectly executed off-the-cuff ambush after all? Not at all. Its just that the burial mound was guarded by a Minotaur. This thing was a complete bastard I can tell you. I fully expected it to kill 2 PC's easy. Not only that, if the party didn't get the drop on it, the damn thing was going to blow a big horn, and then there'd be a 1/10 chance of reinforcements arriving each 10 rounds (including while the party searched for an entrance into the burial mound; struggled to open it; and then delved into it- that's a lot of rolls). These could be anything from a few puny beastmen, through a few more not so puny, right up to another fricken Minotaur.
Maybe I was getting soft, I don't know, but there was no way I was going to have a bunch of over-powered bouncers waste half the party before they even got in for the main event. I mean, I had a downward spiral some 2 months long to turn around. Jeopardy was fine, but death at the hands of these monsters wasn't. As I racked my brains for some way to make the damn scene work, I imagined the fate of some poor players, playing their 3rd or 4th session perhaps, encountering this scene played straight. It must've happened, and I'll bet the carnage was dreadful to behold.
In the end, I just decided to make life simple for us all, and I dropped the Minotaur altogether. So what if I was making life easy on the PC's? I certainly was in no position to get up on any kind of high horse.
The funny thing is, it all worked rather well I reckon. There were some problems to be sure, not the least of which being that I wasn't very expressive. I had 1 NPC I could use to generate dialogue, and I'd had the idea to have him babble with increasing intensity as he got closer to the tomb. I was only able to put this across in 3rd person unfortunately. And the players were a bit restless themselves and I feared that we'd end up with more banter than anything else in the end.
Still, as the party made its final approach to the burial mound, different PC's stepped forward to fulfil the roles that their dangerous situation required. Between my descriptions and the players' questions we managed to make the surroundings fairly vivid, despite my attention to the full range of the senses being a bit weak. And as each obstacle and puzzle presented itself, it was noteworthy how everyone fell into place as a team, while at the same time beginning to express their character. Nothing fancy, just good old fashioned task and trial driven roleplaying, with some smart tactics bringing the players the sweet taste of victory.
There's still plenty of basic spadework to be done no doubt. I haven't done enough work to get the players to flesh out their PC's characters and backgrounds in a way that I can use as reference for adding details that will draw each character more fully into the world. Our pre and post-session chats haven't been thorough-going enough for us to have established a sufficient consensus about what each of us is looking for; although long since no longer strangers we're still largely unknown to each other as roleplayers in other words.
All the same: after all my worries beforehand, there was something really striking about last Sunday. We played through the simplest example of indisputably the most classic adventure- the dungeon bash. In the course of this all the PC's had to step forward to play their parts, and in so doing, they each became more individual precisely because they were becoming more of a team. Perhaps Ashes of Middenheim isn't so bad after all, eh?
Related@RD/KA!
The Shrine in the Forest
- #1 Dangerous dreams and buckets of blood
- #2 Undead, dead and living dread
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Friday, January 13, 2006
Alter-ego or ego-altering?
Checking out some other gamers' blogs found at Matt Forbeck's the other night I came across one of those 'What kind of... are you?' quizzes on Anthony Ragan's Public Secrets: from the files of the IrishSpy. Deep in the throes of getting to grips with Green Ronin's most excellent Mutants & Masterminds 2nd edition, this was one I wasn't going to pass up on. And would you believe it, I'm:
Spider-Man
Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test
Turning out as one of my favourite comicbook superheroes means I have to give this test my seal of approval.
The tagline's good too. I'll leave the 'intelligent' and 'witty' for others to judge (I can hear 'half-' echoing through the ether even as I type). But: 'geeky'?- well, more than a bit I'd say; and 'great power and responsibility'?- most definitely. I'm a WFRP GM after all, which means that I've got one of the most lethal rpg combat systems going at my disposal in a classic setting of underpowered PC's facing pointless death in dirty corners. Oh, the burden.
Anthony Ragan is the author of Sigmar's Heirs, the rather nice WFRP supplement I reviewed last year. And he was Spiderman too. That would be spooky if I was superstitious, or if it was summertime and I wasn't taking my medication.
I can't be unalloyed in my praise for this test though. Why? Because Batman came at the bottom of my list, and he's the closest in there to my archetypal roleplaying superhero, my primary projection. Bit of an oddity there, but that's another story.
Spider-Man
| You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.  |
Turning out as one of my favourite comicbook superheroes means I have to give this test my seal of approval.
The tagline's good too. I'll leave the 'intelligent' and 'witty' for others to judge (I can hear 'half-' echoing through the ether even as I type). But: 'geeky'?- well, more than a bit I'd say; and 'great power and responsibility'?- most definitely. I'm a WFRP GM after all, which means that I've got one of the most lethal rpg combat systems going at my disposal in a classic setting of underpowered PC's facing pointless death in dirty corners. Oh, the burden.
Anthony Ragan is the author of Sigmar's Heirs, the rather nice WFRP supplement I reviewed last year. And he was Spiderman too. That would be spooky if I was superstitious, or if it was summertime and I wasn't taking my medication.
I can't be unalloyed in my praise for this test though. Why? Because Batman came at the bottom of my list, and he's the closest in there to my archetypal roleplaying superhero, my primary projection. Bit of an oddity there, but that's another story.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
My little Old World: the Shrine in the Forest #2
Undead, dead and living dread
With the chamber secure it was the work of a few moments for Siegfried to find another hollow skull to open the door that Mordrin had missed. A narrow passage lay ahead.
Blunderbuss to the fore, Grundi scouted ahead again. Sneaking forward, he saw a statue of the Blood God on his brass throne, surrounded by piles of bones. Entering the chamber, the dwarf had barely had time to look left and right before he heard the rattle of bones. Looking round he saw bones rolling together to form an arm, a torso, legs; then a pair of skeletons lurched upright and began to advance towards him brandishing rusty swords.
Grundi retreated hastily. The skeletons followed relentlessly. And the party again demonstrated a grasp of tactics painfully learned. Everyone formed up around the exit from the passage. Meanwhile, like the automata they were, the skeletons advanced up the corridor. BOOM! Grundi's blunderbuss ripped through them. With no way out of the passage the 2 skeletons, and the 2 which followed them, were picked off one-by-one with little difficulty, and again the party tasted sweet victory.
Celebrations were cut short by the sound of stone scraping on stone from the chamber ahead. Nerves already stretched tight by the horrors faced so far were tautened just that bit further by the thought that luck might yet run out. Advancing, the party spied 2 doors. Turning left they found a room full of tattered and decaying trophies of war. Several valuable relics were found as the PC's rummaged through the detritus. Everyone resolved on returning them to their rightful owners, although Grundi had to be talked out of taking the beastman-headed helmet of a long-dead Master of the Knights Panther so that he could wear it himself.
And so it was that in the very last room in the tomb in the forest that the party found what they had come so far in search of: a large, polished black sarcophagus resting in yet another pool of blood. The pool was too wide for the PC's to be able to reach the lid of the sarcophagus to lift it clear, and by now everyone was deeply suspicious of any blood dedicated to the Blood God. A plan was quickly formed.
Siegfried took Grundi's blunderbuss (not without some grumbling on the aging dwarf's part it has to be said) and headed for the front entrance to stand guard. The rest of the party set to work fetching rubble from the fountain and other rubbish to lay out 2 platforms so that the dwarfs could get close enough to the sarcophagus to exericse leverage without testing the properties of the blood in the pool. Berthold meanwhile stood ready with a crossbow, to welcome anything that might appear out of the sarcophagus when it was opened.
The sarcophagus lid was very heavy; the dwarfs' footing was unsteady; their levers were crude: it was very hard work cracking open the lid so that it could be pulled off. Eventually though it slid with a liquid crash into the pool of blood. The PC's breathed a sigh of relief when nothing more dramatic happened. Looking inside the sarcophagus, they saw the dead Chaos Champion in a full suit of plate mail decorated in the black and red of the Blood God's devotees. He had a huge greatsword and a shield as well as the brass skull on a chain round his neck that the party had come all this way to recover.
Displaying a prudent regard for their souls everyone ignored the warrior's armour and weapons. Demonstrating the caution of an experienced adventurer, Mordrin hooked the skull amulet on the end of a rusty sword, and patiently worked the chain over the dead warrior's helmet. As he pulled it free Mordrin found the revolting icon to be unexpectedly heavy, and he almost dropped it. Retrieved, the brass skull was carefully removed and wrapped up in a tattered old banner from the trophy room without anyone touching it.
Dusk was drawing down as Berthold, Grundi and Mordrin rejoined Siegfried outside. The party took stock, and decided that this was no place to linger through the night. Without further ado they slung Father Odo over the back of Grundi's horse and set out for the journey back to Middenheim.
The party pressed on through the night, hoping to keep going until daylight. But forced-marching through a dense, dark forest was too much for Berthold, and they eventually had to stop after midnight. Prudence dictated a cold camp. Siegfried took the first watch, which passed uneventfully. He went to awaken Mordrin. Passing his companions asleep on the ground, Siegfreid spotted a gleam by someone's bedroll. To his amazement, it was the brass skull, which seemed to stare malevolently at the young man as he wondered how on earth the thing had got there.
Mordrin took on his watch, while Seigfried lay brooding, sleep a long way off. Time passed as it does in the night. Alert to the sounds of the forest, Mordrin was startled by the sound of restlessness and muttering from Father Odo, who had been asleep. The old priest had got to his feet. Mordrin went to find out what was going on. The blind priest ignored the dwarf and began to make a beeline for the sleeping Berthold, who was guarding the brass skull. Seigfried tried to intervene, but was brushed aside.
The next thing everyone knew, Odo had grabbed the Khornate icon and was wrestling with Berthold for its possession. Seemly entranced the old man was unrelenting. He was grabbed, he broke free. He was knocked down, he got up. He was punched and pummelled with the hilt of a dagger to no avail. Horrified and fearful, Siegfried was on the verge of slitting Odo's throat when the venerable father finally awoke.
The old man was evidently confused and afraid, and awakening from his trance to hear people discussing killing him or tying him up did nothing to settle his nerves. In the end the party chose simply to bind his hands so that he couldn't get up to any more tricks, or wander off. Although blind, Odo could evidently recognise voices, and he was obviously scared by the sound of Seigfreid's voice. The PC's noticed this, but no one seemed to give the priest's feelings much consideration. They had worries of their own.
Related@RD/KA!
The Shrine in the Forest
- #1 Dangerous dreams and buckets of blood
- The GM's reflections
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
With the chamber secure it was the work of a few moments for Siegfried to find another hollow skull to open the door that Mordrin had missed. A narrow passage lay ahead.
Blunderbuss to the fore, Grundi scouted ahead again. Sneaking forward, he saw a statue of the Blood God on his brass throne, surrounded by piles of bones. Entering the chamber, the dwarf had barely had time to look left and right before he heard the rattle of bones. Looking round he saw bones rolling together to form an arm, a torso, legs; then a pair of skeletons lurched upright and began to advance towards him brandishing rusty swords.
Grundi retreated hastily. The skeletons followed relentlessly. And the party again demonstrated a grasp of tactics painfully learned. Everyone formed up around the exit from the passage. Meanwhile, like the automata they were, the skeletons advanced up the corridor. BOOM! Grundi's blunderbuss ripped through them. With no way out of the passage the 2 skeletons, and the 2 which followed them, were picked off one-by-one with little difficulty, and again the party tasted sweet victory.
Celebrations were cut short by the sound of stone scraping on stone from the chamber ahead. Nerves already stretched tight by the horrors faced so far were tautened just that bit further by the thought that luck might yet run out. Advancing, the party spied 2 doors. Turning left they found a room full of tattered and decaying trophies of war. Several valuable relics were found as the PC's rummaged through the detritus. Everyone resolved on returning them to their rightful owners, although Grundi had to be talked out of taking the beastman-headed helmet of a long-dead Master of the Knights Panther so that he could wear it himself.
And so it was that in the very last room in the tomb in the forest that the party found what they had come so far in search of: a large, polished black sarcophagus resting in yet another pool of blood. The pool was too wide for the PC's to be able to reach the lid of the sarcophagus to lift it clear, and by now everyone was deeply suspicious of any blood dedicated to the Blood God. A plan was quickly formed.
Siegfried took Grundi's blunderbuss (not without some grumbling on the aging dwarf's part it has to be said) and headed for the front entrance to stand guard. The rest of the party set to work fetching rubble from the fountain and other rubbish to lay out 2 platforms so that the dwarfs could get close enough to the sarcophagus to exericse leverage without testing the properties of the blood in the pool. Berthold meanwhile stood ready with a crossbow, to welcome anything that might appear out of the sarcophagus when it was opened.
The sarcophagus lid was very heavy; the dwarfs' footing was unsteady; their levers were crude: it was very hard work cracking open the lid so that it could be pulled off. Eventually though it slid with a liquid crash into the pool of blood. The PC's breathed a sigh of relief when nothing more dramatic happened. Looking inside the sarcophagus, they saw the dead Chaos Champion in a full suit of plate mail decorated in the black and red of the Blood God's devotees. He had a huge greatsword and a shield as well as the brass skull on a chain round his neck that the party had come all this way to recover.
Displaying a prudent regard for their souls everyone ignored the warrior's armour and weapons. Demonstrating the caution of an experienced adventurer, Mordrin hooked the skull amulet on the end of a rusty sword, and patiently worked the chain over the dead warrior's helmet. As he pulled it free Mordrin found the revolting icon to be unexpectedly heavy, and he almost dropped it. Retrieved, the brass skull was carefully removed and wrapped up in a tattered old banner from the trophy room without anyone touching it.
Dusk was drawing down as Berthold, Grundi and Mordrin rejoined Siegfried outside. The party took stock, and decided that this was no place to linger through the night. Without further ado they slung Father Odo over the back of Grundi's horse and set out for the journey back to Middenheim.
The party pressed on through the night, hoping to keep going until daylight. But forced-marching through a dense, dark forest was too much for Berthold, and they eventually had to stop after midnight. Prudence dictated a cold camp. Siegfried took the first watch, which passed uneventfully. He went to awaken Mordrin. Passing his companions asleep on the ground, Siegfreid spotted a gleam by someone's bedroll. To his amazement, it was the brass skull, which seemed to stare malevolently at the young man as he wondered how on earth the thing had got there.
Mordrin took on his watch, while Seigfried lay brooding, sleep a long way off. Time passed as it does in the night. Alert to the sounds of the forest, Mordrin was startled by the sound of restlessness and muttering from Father Odo, who had been asleep. The old priest had got to his feet. Mordrin went to find out what was going on. The blind priest ignored the dwarf and began to make a beeline for the sleeping Berthold, who was guarding the brass skull. Seigfried tried to intervene, but was brushed aside.
The next thing everyone knew, Odo had grabbed the Khornate icon and was wrestling with Berthold for its possession. Seemly entranced the old man was unrelenting. He was grabbed, he broke free. He was knocked down, he got up. He was punched and pummelled with the hilt of a dagger to no avail. Horrified and fearful, Siegfried was on the verge of slitting Odo's throat when the venerable father finally awoke.
The old man was evidently confused and afraid, and awakening from his trance to hear people discussing killing him or tying him up did nothing to settle his nerves. In the end the party chose simply to bind his hands so that he couldn't get up to any more tricks, or wander off. Although blind, Odo could evidently recognise voices, and he was obviously scared by the sound of Seigfreid's voice. The PC's noticed this, but no one seemed to give the priest's feelings much consideration. They had worries of their own.
Related@RD/KA!
The Shrine in the Forest
- #1 Dangerous dreams and buckets of blood
- The GM's reflections
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
My little Old World: the Shrine in the Forest #1
Dangerous dreams and buckets of blood
So, with the 'festive' season out of the way, we finally got back to WFRP Sunday last. The party had returned to Middenheim the last session we played before Christmas. They proceeded to get themselves jobs: Alane got herself a job as an assistant researcher at the Guild of Wizards and Alchemists; Berthold became a scribe at the Temple of Sigmar; and Grundi, Mordrin and Siegfried signed up for a 6-month stint with the city watch.
Our intrepid bunch had barely settled in though before they received a call to visit Father Ranulf at the Temple of Ulric. There they met Ranulf and a blind old priest named Father Odo. Odo, it turned out, was possessed with terrible dreams of a servant of the Chaos god Khorne, and of a powerful icon of Khorne which had been laid to rest with this blood-soaked figure. Ranulf explained to the party that this icon had to be retrieved so that it could be made safe, and that they were just the people for the job.
With cries of horror and barely concealed reluctance, the party agreed. Leaves of absence were obtained. Preparations for the journey were made. Portents of doom were shared. And that was where we left things at the end of last year.
When the time came to depart for the journey into the Drakwald with the blind Father Odo as a guide Alane was strangely absent [her player couldn't make it]. Undaunted, the party set off. Their journey began by retracing the road to Delberz they'd taken only weeks before. Turning east at Sotturm, they eventually left the road at the village of Fintel.
Without even a path to follow, the party made slow going through the thick forest. The dull journey was enlivened only by the ravings of Father Odo, who was gripped by terrible dreams each night, and who was little better than a babbling loon during the day. At least the PC's had reason to be thankful to the Graf Todbringer, whose efforts to hunt down the beastmen and other hideous survivors of the siege of Middenheim were surely responsible for there being no dangerous incidents on the journey.
During the 10th night in the Drakwald Father Odo's dreams were more vivid and frightening than ever. He awoke with the news that they were almost upon the evil site that was their destination. Those were the last sensible words he said that day, as he went on to babble more constantly than ever.
The party marched on. Early in the afternoon they noticed the forest thinning around them. Recent adventures having taught them the wisdom of caution, the PC's decided not to march blindly forward: Siegfried went ahead to scout out the area. He found the great stone atop its mound that Father Odo had described from his nightmares. There were no signs of life.
Mordrin being the only PC without a missile weapon, it was decided that he would go forward to investigate while the others covered him from the edge of the clearing. Approaching the mound, Mordrin found the cold remains of campfires, and what looked like a large cooking pit filled with human and other bones left over from a meal that someone- or something- appeared to have enjoyed. Perched atop a mound of skulls and bones and covered in evil scribblings, the great stone towered over the mound, several times the height of a man.
The young dwarf made a cautious circuit of the mound and found nothing. So he started to kick about among the bones. Seeing no signs of immediate danger, the rest of the party were by this time moving to join him. They arrived just in time to witness Mordrin finding the entrance to the mound's interior by the simple expedient of falling half into it. Leaving Grundi on guard with his blunderbuss, Berthold, Mordrin and Seigfried set to work to clear the entranceway so that they could find a way inside.
The skulls and bones cleared away, the party found themselves staring at a great stone door decorated with a carving of the Blood God on his brass throne atop a mountain of skulls. No doubt some of the PC's wished they could be somewhere else at that moment- anywhere, doing anything other than trying to find a way into this evil site. There was nothing for it though, so the dwarfs and Berthold set to levering the huge lump of stone open. It took them quite some time, but they managed it eventually.
Inside they saw a passage sloping gently downwards into the darkness. Before entering the burial mound, the party had to decide what to do with Father Odo, whose babbling verged on hysteria as he was led towards the entrance, and who showed extreme reluctance to go inside. Afraid that the deranged old priest might wander off into the forest all alone, the PC's discussed the possibility of tying the man up. More humane voices prevailed though, and he was left sitting beside Grundi's horse at the edge of the clearing.
Making their way cautiously down the entrance passage the party found themselves surrounded by carvings of gruesome battle scenes and of the Blood God. Evil images leered at them from all sides as the light of their lantern flickered along the walls. Fortunately the passage was short, so that they didn't have much time to brood on their surroundings.
Finding themselves at a T-junction, they went left first. There was nothing to see there, so they went right. Grundi was leading the way because no one wanted to get in front of his blunderbuss. And so it was that he heard a creak from his left just in time to hit the deck as several spears sprang out from the wall at just the height where his head had been moments before. As a thief, Siegfried knew the form here. He began to peer closely at the walls. Sure enough, he soon found a hollow skull among the carvings on the wall. A quick push, and a concealed door slid open.
Beyond, the corridor sloped inwards to a 5-way junction. Leading the way as ever, Grundi turned left and advanced to investigate the new corridor. He had hardly gone a few yards before he heard a strange slurping shuffling. Looking up he saw a humanoid figure advancing towards him, leaving disturbing misty vapours behind its strangely shimmering body as it shambled forward. Grundi promptly turned round and retreated, only to discover that there was another one of these mysterious creatures moving up the opposite corridor.
Again, the PC's showed that they had learned the lessons of bitter experience. Looking around they soon noticed that the junction behind them gave room for 3 to stand in line abreast. They eagerly siezed at the opportunity for the advantage of bringing superior numbers to bear, and moved into position. Berthold too was delighted with the manoeuvre, since it left him standing behind the line holding the lantern.
All eyes were on Grundi as he stood ready with his blunderbuss, waiting for the foes to appear at the junction. He was in luck, and both the creatures arrived at the same moment. BOOM! The blunderbuss' shrapnel tore into the monsters, cutting huge holes right through their blood red mockeries of the human form. The party watched aghast as tendrils formed and the wounds knitted themselves together again, although they took comfort from the fact that the creatures looked more ragged than they had all the same.
Battle was joined. The PC's were relieved to discover that the monsters were no more immune to their weapons than they had been to Grundi's blunderbuss. Grundi though was horrified to see one of the dripping red tendrils with which the blood creatures attacked pass right through his attempted parry, and mortified to feel its cold, soul-sucking touch.
As the combatants traded blows Siegfried had a plan. Shouting at Berthold to cover him, he pulled out of the line and rummaged in his pack for a flask of oil and a bandage. Meanwhile Berthold moved forward. Then everything happened all at once. Siegfried splashed the oil on one of the bloody tomb-guardians. The other monster was finally destroyed by the others, exploding in a fountain of blood that drenched everyone nearby. Seigfried lit his bandage and lashed out at his target. Fortune was with him, and flames engulfed the monster's shoulder. The party had barely had time to savour their glee before the flames roared across the creature's chest, and it imploded to land on the floor in a loud splash.
Savouring their victory, the PC's paused to reorganise before investigating the chamber ahead: a large triangular room with a fountain in its centre, pouring blood into a pool from the mouths of 4 skulls.
Grundi led the way as ever. No sooner had he set foot in the chamber but he heard the sound of stone scraping on stone. He stepped smartly backwards out of the room. As the party watched they saw the top of the fountain start to rotate, and it was soon spraying blood around the room. Not keen on marching into this, the PC's stood and watched for a long few minutes before the spinning skulls wounds down and the fountain returned to its normal gory gushing into the pool.
The PC's stood looking at each other wondering what to do. They noticed that the blood in the chamber was running away from them, towards the far wall. After a few minutes it was clear that it was draining away too. Mordrin took matters into his own hands. Holding his shield above his head to offer a measure of protection from another shower of blood, he ran into the room and crouched beside the pool at the base of the fountain. This turned out to be the eye of the storm when the spinning fountain began to fill the room a 2nd time.
A quick circuit of the pool convinced Mordrin that there was nothing of particular interest there. Nothing ventured he decided. Again using his shield for protection, he made a circuit of the room checking the walls for a secret door, to no avail. In the process he was liberally splashed despite his best efforts with his shield. He felt his flesh sear, a sensation echoed in the recesses of his mind.
All his best efforts foiled the young dwarf battled with rising frustration. In the end he surrendered to his emotions, and laid about the fountain with his axe. This oldest of solutions proved adequate to the task. Soon enough the fountain was smashed to bits and the blood in the pool was spilling out across the floor. Dripping with blood, Mordrin flashed a triumphant grin and a manically gleaming eye at his companions.
Related@RD/KA!
The Shrine in the Forest
- #2 Undead, dead and living dread
- The GM's reflections
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
So, with the 'festive' season out of the way, we finally got back to WFRP Sunday last. The party had returned to Middenheim the last session we played before Christmas. They proceeded to get themselves jobs: Alane got herself a job as an assistant researcher at the Guild of Wizards and Alchemists; Berthold became a scribe at the Temple of Sigmar; and Grundi, Mordrin and Siegfried signed up for a 6-month stint with the city watch.
Our intrepid bunch had barely settled in though before they received a call to visit Father Ranulf at the Temple of Ulric. There they met Ranulf and a blind old priest named Father Odo. Odo, it turned out, was possessed with terrible dreams of a servant of the Chaos god Khorne, and of a powerful icon of Khorne which had been laid to rest with this blood-soaked figure. Ranulf explained to the party that this icon had to be retrieved so that it could be made safe, and that they were just the people for the job.
With cries of horror and barely concealed reluctance, the party agreed. Leaves of absence were obtained. Preparations for the journey were made. Portents of doom were shared. And that was where we left things at the end of last year.
When the time came to depart for the journey into the Drakwald with the blind Father Odo as a guide Alane was strangely absent [her player couldn't make it]. Undaunted, the party set off. Their journey began by retracing the road to Delberz they'd taken only weeks before. Turning east at Sotturm, they eventually left the road at the village of Fintel.
Without even a path to follow, the party made slow going through the thick forest. The dull journey was enlivened only by the ravings of Father Odo, who was gripped by terrible dreams each night, and who was little better than a babbling loon during the day. At least the PC's had reason to be thankful to the Graf Todbringer, whose efforts to hunt down the beastmen and other hideous survivors of the siege of Middenheim were surely responsible for there being no dangerous incidents on the journey.
During the 10th night in the Drakwald Father Odo's dreams were more vivid and frightening than ever. He awoke with the news that they were almost upon the evil site that was their destination. Those were the last sensible words he said that day, as he went on to babble more constantly than ever.
The party marched on. Early in the afternoon they noticed the forest thinning around them. Recent adventures having taught them the wisdom of caution, the PC's decided not to march blindly forward: Siegfried went ahead to scout out the area. He found the great stone atop its mound that Father Odo had described from his nightmares. There were no signs of life.
Mordrin being the only PC without a missile weapon, it was decided that he would go forward to investigate while the others covered him from the edge of the clearing. Approaching the mound, Mordrin found the cold remains of campfires, and what looked like a large cooking pit filled with human and other bones left over from a meal that someone- or something- appeared to have enjoyed. Perched atop a mound of skulls and bones and covered in evil scribblings, the great stone towered over the mound, several times the height of a man.
The young dwarf made a cautious circuit of the mound and found nothing. So he started to kick about among the bones. Seeing no signs of immediate danger, the rest of the party were by this time moving to join him. They arrived just in time to witness Mordrin finding the entrance to the mound's interior by the simple expedient of falling half into it. Leaving Grundi on guard with his blunderbuss, Berthold, Mordrin and Seigfried set to work to clear the entranceway so that they could find a way inside.
The skulls and bones cleared away, the party found themselves staring at a great stone door decorated with a carving of the Blood God on his brass throne atop a mountain of skulls. No doubt some of the PC's wished they could be somewhere else at that moment- anywhere, doing anything other than trying to find a way into this evil site. There was nothing for it though, so the dwarfs and Berthold set to levering the huge lump of stone open. It took them quite some time, but they managed it eventually.
Inside they saw a passage sloping gently downwards into the darkness. Before entering the burial mound, the party had to decide what to do with Father Odo, whose babbling verged on hysteria as he was led towards the entrance, and who showed extreme reluctance to go inside. Afraid that the deranged old priest might wander off into the forest all alone, the PC's discussed the possibility of tying the man up. More humane voices prevailed though, and he was left sitting beside Grundi's horse at the edge of the clearing.
Making their way cautiously down the entrance passage the party found themselves surrounded by carvings of gruesome battle scenes and of the Blood God. Evil images leered at them from all sides as the light of their lantern flickered along the walls. Fortunately the passage was short, so that they didn't have much time to brood on their surroundings.
Finding themselves at a T-junction, they went left first. There was nothing to see there, so they went right. Grundi was leading the way because no one wanted to get in front of his blunderbuss. And so it was that he heard a creak from his left just in time to hit the deck as several spears sprang out from the wall at just the height where his head had been moments before. As a thief, Siegfried knew the form here. He began to peer closely at the walls. Sure enough, he soon found a hollow skull among the carvings on the wall. A quick push, and a concealed door slid open.
Beyond, the corridor sloped inwards to a 5-way junction. Leading the way as ever, Grundi turned left and advanced to investigate the new corridor. He had hardly gone a few yards before he heard a strange slurping shuffling. Looking up he saw a humanoid figure advancing towards him, leaving disturbing misty vapours behind its strangely shimmering body as it shambled forward. Grundi promptly turned round and retreated, only to discover that there was another one of these mysterious creatures moving up the opposite corridor.
Again, the PC's showed that they had learned the lessons of bitter experience. Looking around they soon noticed that the junction behind them gave room for 3 to stand in line abreast. They eagerly siezed at the opportunity for the advantage of bringing superior numbers to bear, and moved into position. Berthold too was delighted with the manoeuvre, since it left him standing behind the line holding the lantern.
All eyes were on Grundi as he stood ready with his blunderbuss, waiting for the foes to appear at the junction. He was in luck, and both the creatures arrived at the same moment. BOOM! The blunderbuss' shrapnel tore into the monsters, cutting huge holes right through their blood red mockeries of the human form. The party watched aghast as tendrils formed and the wounds knitted themselves together again, although they took comfort from the fact that the creatures looked more ragged than they had all the same.
Battle was joined. The PC's were relieved to discover that the monsters were no more immune to their weapons than they had been to Grundi's blunderbuss. Grundi though was horrified to see one of the dripping red tendrils with which the blood creatures attacked pass right through his attempted parry, and mortified to feel its cold, soul-sucking touch.
As the combatants traded blows Siegfried had a plan. Shouting at Berthold to cover him, he pulled out of the line and rummaged in his pack for a flask of oil and a bandage. Meanwhile Berthold moved forward. Then everything happened all at once. Siegfried splashed the oil on one of the bloody tomb-guardians. The other monster was finally destroyed by the others, exploding in a fountain of blood that drenched everyone nearby. Seigfried lit his bandage and lashed out at his target. Fortune was with him, and flames engulfed the monster's shoulder. The party had barely had time to savour their glee before the flames roared across the creature's chest, and it imploded to land on the floor in a loud splash.
Savouring their victory, the PC's paused to reorganise before investigating the chamber ahead: a large triangular room with a fountain in its centre, pouring blood into a pool from the mouths of 4 skulls.
Grundi led the way as ever. No sooner had he set foot in the chamber but he heard the sound of stone scraping on stone. He stepped smartly backwards out of the room. As the party watched they saw the top of the fountain start to rotate, and it was soon spraying blood around the room. Not keen on marching into this, the PC's stood and watched for a long few minutes before the spinning skulls wounds down and the fountain returned to its normal gory gushing into the pool.
The PC's stood looking at each other wondering what to do. They noticed that the blood in the chamber was running away from them, towards the far wall. After a few minutes it was clear that it was draining away too. Mordrin took matters into his own hands. Holding his shield above his head to offer a measure of protection from another shower of blood, he ran into the room and crouched beside the pool at the base of the fountain. This turned out to be the eye of the storm when the spinning fountain began to fill the room a 2nd time.
A quick circuit of the pool convinced Mordrin that there was nothing of particular interest there. Nothing ventured he decided. Again using his shield for protection, he made a circuit of the room checking the walls for a secret door, to no avail. In the process he was liberally splashed despite his best efforts with his shield. He felt his flesh sear, a sensation echoed in the recesses of his mind.
All his best efforts foiled the young dwarf battled with rising frustration. In the end he surrendered to his emotions, and laid about the fountain with his axe. This oldest of solutions proved adequate to the task. Soon enough the fountain was smashed to bits and the blood in the pool was spilling out across the floor. Dripping with blood, Mordrin flashed a triumphant grin and a manically gleaming eye at his companions.
Related@RD/KA!
The Shrine in the Forest
- #2 Undead, dead and living dread
- The GM's reflections
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
A rash of enthusiasm...
... For Space Hulk
Part 3. Tactics, tactics, tactics!
If the timer and blips rules gave the players of Space Hulk a point-of-view from which to play, the rest of the rules brought the premise vividly to life and made the game a thrilling challenge. Given the importance I have already attributed to the timer rule, it's hardly a stretch that I would see the simplicity of the action and resolution systems as important here. This simplicity made sure that the timer rule brought tension and excitement to the challenges of the game, instead of being experienced as a punitive burden.
Beyond the rules, I would also have to say that the board itself was a key element of what made the game so good. There might've been a certain implausibility to all those narrow corridors and tiny rooms- especially in the Dark Millenium, where everything was always on a grand scale; but their effect on the game was simply excellent. I guess at the most obvious level, a more open board would've made for pretty dull play in a game where only one player had ranged weaponry. But the tight confines of the Space Hulk board created a fascinating set of tactial problems for players.
These problems arose from the way in which the maze of the board broke your forces up into discrete groups, and forced them down certain definite lines of advance. As a result of this, corners and junctions became key points around which entire strategies could hinge.
The AP rules were also crucial here, breaking movement through the hulk down into bounds requiring careful judgement. The effect was that every single action counted, especially for the Terminators. Games could be won or lost as much by a misspent AP as by the fortunes of the dice.
The combination of the impact of the tight confines of the board and the strictures of the AP system placed a high premium on carefully planned advances. Moving your pieces in the wrong order could have terrible consequences. One badly placed Terminator could block a corridor, backing up the rest of his squad and leaving them open for a vicious Stealer counterattack. One misplaced blip could be caught out by a Terminator, and subjected to involuntary conversion so that it turned out to be a single Stealer instead of the 3 on which the player had been relying.
A variety of tactics had to be developed to deal with these challenges. The most obvious one was straight out of all the classic textbooks: paying attention to your flanks and rear. The maze-like nature of the board meant that there was always a chance that your opponent might hit you in or get round your flanks. Terminators had to be stationed to cover likely avenues with overwatch fire. Blips and/or Stealers had to lurk in suitable locations to deny easy access.
Apart from these basics, each specific feature of the board- doors, corners, corridors, rooms- posed its own problems for each side. For Stealers the mission usually involved stopping the Terminators achieving some objective, so the problems these features posed were all about lurking and swarming, building a force sufficiently big to swamp the Terminators with numbers. For the Terminators, typically on the offensive, these features were often intermediate objectives to be taken on the way to fulfilling their mission.
Doors for example. These were very useful to Stealer players. Blips couldn't enter a Terminator's LOS, and could only convert before moving. So a standard Terminator tactic was to fire on the move, trying to blow as many doors as possible. The hope here was to open up long fire lanes that would slow down Stealer infiltration of the hulk- only a single Stealer at a time could cross the firelane, and it might go down to overwatch.
The Stealer response to this was 'doorkeepers': get to the door first, and open it (this tactic only worked if the door was on some kind of corner btw). Next turn, the 'doorkeeper' would close the door, maybe moving off to let another Stealer/blip take its place. Now LOS was blocked and blips could move at will. Then a 2nd 'doorkeeper' would open the door to keep it safe for next turn.
Then there were corners and corridors. As a Stealer player you'd usually have a bug or blip or two lurking off side corridors, round corners, and so on, just waiting for an unwary, careless or just plain unlucky Terminator to get too close. Smart Terminators would hold back of course, but sooner or later someone would have to take the corner or shoot the corridor ('shooting' a corridor meant charging up a short corridor to clear the area ahead).
By the time you were sending your Terminator in you'd know exactly the minimum AP- including additional CP- required to get up there and clear the area. But often you'd have to get your heavy flamer up there too, to block off the corridor ahead and prevent the Stealer reinforcements just round the corner from swarming in to leave the next guy in line to have to do it all over again. A lot of the tensest dice rolling of my gaming career has come from those situations!
Sometimes too you couldn't hold back like that. Then there'd be nothing for it but to send a few Terminators in close, set them into overwatch, and hope that they'd take enough Stealers with them for you to clear the position next turn. Truly grim stuff!
One of my favourites to come out of this spiral of tactic and counter-tactic was one we called the Dance of Death. Often there'd be a position where you'd have a lone Stealer just round a corner with a Terminator on overwatch 5 squares away. That would give you 1 attack, but only after you'd been shot at 5 times. Not great odds. But then someone noticed the rule that overwatch fire was mandatory, and that it was per action, not per AP spent. Stealers could make a 90 degree turn for 0AP, and so it began: move a Stealer out further away- overwatch; free turn- overwatch; sidle- overwatch; free turn... and so on, hoping for that jam that would let the first Stealer get in for its attack.
You could lose a lot of Stealers that way if you were unlucky, sometimes blowing a whole position, but what the heck: we figured that was how the hivemind worked anyway.
Another trick we mastered was the art of packing more than 9 bugs into a 3x3 room- clinging to the walls and ceiling in other words. This all had to do with the logic of involuntary blip conversion. You set your blips up just right and then left them there waiting for a Terminator to come through the door. The first blip would convert. Its Stealer(s) would be killed, revealing more blips, which would convert, and so on. This was a lot of fun, and a handy way of stopping powerful characters.
By the time my regular hulking stopped we were also beginning to get into the intricacies of board design. This was because we'd noticed a lot of the published missions made it easy for the Terminators to interdict Stealer entry areas, or had too many long straight corridors that made good swarming and lurking too difficult for the Stealers. Naturally enough, not wanting to make life too easy for the Terminators we decided to change this around.
By way of a conclusion
The range of tactical problems and solutions and the spiral of measure and counter-measure I've sketched out here should go some way to underlining why Space Hulk deserves its classic status. Simple basic elements giving rise to complex gameplay is a hallmark of classic games, as is immense replay value. Second edition Space Hulk- with the addition of the missing timer and CP rules from 1st edition- enjoys these in spades.
Space Hulk is also a game offering the satisfaction of mastery as a reward for serious play. For me, one of the great experiences of my years' gaming has been found at the Space Hulk table. It was the sense of my Terminators as a finely honed team, poised and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. It was a wonderful feeling, and is probably about as close as I've come in boardgaming to that feeling of being possessed by a favourite roleplaying character.
This hymn of praise to a modern classic would be a bit academic if it wasn't for one thing. The last time I went to Games Day UK, a couple of years ago, I made a point of going to the Fanatic stand to ask why GW weren't supporting Space Hulk with their Specialist Games line which supports other old games like Blood Bowl and Necromunda. I was passed down the line to Jervis Johnson.
We had a nice chat, and he explained to me what I've already explained about margins and so on. He also told me that he hoped that GW might- just might, he stressed- want to launch a boardgames division in the future. Space Hulk could have a place there he suggested, although as a proper boardgame, and not a boardgame/miniatures game crossoever. I have to say I think this would be rather cool. Games like Memoir'44 and Settlers of Catan show the kind of thing GW could do with WFB and 40K.
So if you've never gone hulking before, check out your 40K acquiantances (you must know at least one), and see if you can't get someone to introduce you to Space Hulk (don't forget to use the timer and the CP rules). And then bug GW into making Jervis' dream come true. And then maybe this great game will get another, longer-lived, revival. ;)
Related@RD/KA!
- Part 1. In the beginning was the hulk
- Part 2. The timer rule and player point-of-view
Part 3. Tactics, tactics, tactics!
If the timer and blips rules gave the players of Space Hulk a point-of-view from which to play, the rest of the rules brought the premise vividly to life and made the game a thrilling challenge. Given the importance I have already attributed to the timer rule, it's hardly a stretch that I would see the simplicity of the action and resolution systems as important here. This simplicity made sure that the timer rule brought tension and excitement to the challenges of the game, instead of being experienced as a punitive burden.Beyond the rules, I would also have to say that the board itself was a key element of what made the game so good. There might've been a certain implausibility to all those narrow corridors and tiny rooms- especially in the Dark Millenium, where everything was always on a grand scale; but their effect on the game was simply excellent. I guess at the most obvious level, a more open board would've made for pretty dull play in a game where only one player had ranged weaponry. But the tight confines of the Space Hulk board created a fascinating set of tactial problems for players.
These problems arose from the way in which the maze of the board broke your forces up into discrete groups, and forced them down certain definite lines of advance. As a result of this, corners and junctions became key points around which entire strategies could hinge.
The AP rules were also crucial here, breaking movement through the hulk down into bounds requiring careful judgement. The effect was that every single action counted, especially for the Terminators. Games could be won or lost as much by a misspent AP as by the fortunes of the dice.
The combination of the impact of the tight confines of the board and the strictures of the AP system placed a high premium on carefully planned advances. Moving your pieces in the wrong order could have terrible consequences. One badly placed Terminator could block a corridor, backing up the rest of his squad and leaving them open for a vicious Stealer counterattack. One misplaced blip could be caught out by a Terminator, and subjected to involuntary conversion so that it turned out to be a single Stealer instead of the 3 on which the player had been relying.
A variety of tactics had to be developed to deal with these challenges. The most obvious one was straight out of all the classic textbooks: paying attention to your flanks and rear. The maze-like nature of the board meant that there was always a chance that your opponent might hit you in or get round your flanks. Terminators had to be stationed to cover likely avenues with overwatch fire. Blips and/or Stealers had to lurk in suitable locations to deny easy access.
Apart from these basics, each specific feature of the board- doors, corners, corridors, rooms- posed its own problems for each side. For Stealers the mission usually involved stopping the Terminators achieving some objective, so the problems these features posed were all about lurking and swarming, building a force sufficiently big to swamp the Terminators with numbers. For the Terminators, typically on the offensive, these features were often intermediate objectives to be taken on the way to fulfilling their mission.
Doors for example. These were very useful to Stealer players. Blips couldn't enter a Terminator's LOS, and could only convert before moving. So a standard Terminator tactic was to fire on the move, trying to blow as many doors as possible. The hope here was to open up long fire lanes that would slow down Stealer infiltration of the hulk- only a single Stealer at a time could cross the firelane, and it might go down to overwatch.
The Stealer response to this was 'doorkeepers': get to the door first, and open it (this tactic only worked if the door was on some kind of corner btw). Next turn, the 'doorkeeper' would close the door, maybe moving off to let another Stealer/blip take its place. Now LOS was blocked and blips could move at will. Then a 2nd 'doorkeeper' would open the door to keep it safe for next turn.
Then there were corners and corridors. As a Stealer player you'd usually have a bug or blip or two lurking off side corridors, round corners, and so on, just waiting for an unwary, careless or just plain unlucky Terminator to get too close. Smart Terminators would hold back of course, but sooner or later someone would have to take the corner or shoot the corridor ('shooting' a corridor meant charging up a short corridor to clear the area ahead).
By the time you were sending your Terminator in you'd know exactly the minimum AP- including additional CP- required to get up there and clear the area. But often you'd have to get your heavy flamer up there too, to block off the corridor ahead and prevent the Stealer reinforcements just round the corner from swarming in to leave the next guy in line to have to do it all over again. A lot of the tensest dice rolling of my gaming career has come from those situations!
Sometimes too you couldn't hold back like that. Then there'd be nothing for it but to send a few Terminators in close, set them into overwatch, and hope that they'd take enough Stealers with them for you to clear the position next turn. Truly grim stuff!
One of my favourites to come out of this spiral of tactic and counter-tactic was one we called the Dance of Death. Often there'd be a position where you'd have a lone Stealer just round a corner with a Terminator on overwatch 5 squares away. That would give you 1 attack, but only after you'd been shot at 5 times. Not great odds. But then someone noticed the rule that overwatch fire was mandatory, and that it was per action, not per AP spent. Stealers could make a 90 degree turn for 0AP, and so it began: move a Stealer out further away- overwatch; free turn- overwatch; sidle- overwatch; free turn... and so on, hoping for that jam that would let the first Stealer get in for its attack.
You could lose a lot of Stealers that way if you were unlucky, sometimes blowing a whole position, but what the heck: we figured that was how the hivemind worked anyway.
Another trick we mastered was the art of packing more than 9 bugs into a 3x3 room- clinging to the walls and ceiling in other words. This all had to do with the logic of involuntary blip conversion. You set your blips up just right and then left them there waiting for a Terminator to come through the door. The first blip would convert. Its Stealer(s) would be killed, revealing more blips, which would convert, and so on. This was a lot of fun, and a handy way of stopping powerful characters.
By the time my regular hulking stopped we were also beginning to get into the intricacies of board design. This was because we'd noticed a lot of the published missions made it easy for the Terminators to interdict Stealer entry areas, or had too many long straight corridors that made good swarming and lurking too difficult for the Stealers. Naturally enough, not wanting to make life too easy for the Terminators we decided to change this around.
By way of a conclusion
The range of tactical problems and solutions and the spiral of measure and counter-measure I've sketched out here should go some way to underlining why Space Hulk deserves its classic status. Simple basic elements giving rise to complex gameplay is a hallmark of classic games, as is immense replay value. Second edition Space Hulk- with the addition of the missing timer and CP rules from 1st edition- enjoys these in spades.
Space Hulk is also a game offering the satisfaction of mastery as a reward for serious play. For me, one of the great experiences of my years' gaming has been found at the Space Hulk table. It was the sense of my Terminators as a finely honed team, poised and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. It was a wonderful feeling, and is probably about as close as I've come in boardgaming to that feeling of being possessed by a favourite roleplaying character.
This hymn of praise to a modern classic would be a bit academic if it wasn't for one thing. The last time I went to Games Day UK, a couple of years ago, I made a point of going to the Fanatic stand to ask why GW weren't supporting Space Hulk with their Specialist Games line which supports other old games like Blood Bowl and Necromunda. I was passed down the line to Jervis Johnson.
We had a nice chat, and he explained to me what I've already explained about margins and so on. He also told me that he hoped that GW might- just might, he stressed- want to launch a boardgames division in the future. Space Hulk could have a place there he suggested, although as a proper boardgame, and not a boardgame/miniatures game crossoever. I have to say I think this would be rather cool. Games like Memoir'44 and Settlers of Catan show the kind of thing GW could do with WFB and 40K.
So if you've never gone hulking before, check out your 40K acquiantances (you must know at least one), and see if you can't get someone to introduce you to Space Hulk (don't forget to use the timer and the CP rules). And then bug GW into making Jervis' dream come true. And then maybe this great game will get another, longer-lived, revival. ;)
Related@RD/KA!
- Part 1. In the beginning was the hulk
- Part 2. The timer rule and player point-of-view
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
A rash of enthusiasm...
... For Space Hulk
Part 2. The timer rule and player point-of-view
Like I said, I haven't done any serious hulking in quite some time now, but when I was I played the game often enough to put it in at #3 in the 1st division of my most-played games. More than that: I reckon I played Space Hulk more intensely than any other game, including Up Front (believe it or not), because it was pretty much the only game I had for a couple of years or so (my then regular gaming opponent wasn't into Up Front that much). We used to play every other week or more, often for 2 days solid, which amounts to several hundred games.
In that time I came to cherish the riches that lie behind the deceptive simplicity of the game's basic elements. And don't be fooled by that simplicity. Space Hulk is more than just an atmospheric beer'n'pretzel quickie. It is a demanding tactical challenge requiring cool nerves and the ability to think on your feet. In short: it is a feast of riches derived from simple elements after the fashion of the old school of classic games.
There are 2 key levels on which the rules of Space Hulk work to create such a thrilling gaming experience. One is the ease of play enabled by the simple basic elements. The other is (funnily enough) the way that 2 key elements of the rules combine to give the players well defined points-of-view which mean that the game vividly generates the atmosphere of its theme.
Regular readers might remember my previous comments on the matter of creating definite points-of-view in my articles on Up Front and Memoir'44. Space Hulk contrasts interestingly with these games because it is essentially a good old fashioned board and counters game (the models, however pretty, are purely decorative).
The rules that create these points-of-view are the blip rules and the timer rule. Before going on to explain this, I should note- for the benefit of any old timers who were fans of the 1st edition- that although I played the 1st edition a lot, I was always more au fait with the whole Tyranid hivefleet thing than with the classic stealer cult background of the original game. This experience naturally colours my thinking on how these rules work to enforce the points-of-view of the 2 sides in the game.
The way I see it, the time limit rule is fundamental here. I see it as working like this: the stealer player is not subject to a time limit. Thus able to take as much time as desired, the stealer player is put in the position of the hivemind in all its mysterious workings. In contrast to this the time-limited turns of the Terminator player represents the smaller individual minds of humans (even genetically-engineered supersoldier servants of the God Emperor of Man) and their less efficient coordination based on verbal communication. Thus it is stealer player's luxury of time relative to the time-pressures of the Terminator player that enforce the basic points-of-view of each side.
The blip rules pin down the Terminator player's point-of-view by neatly unifying the perspectives of the individual marines with that of their commander, who is off-board (as ever).
Note the rather odd case I am putting forward here: that it is the Terminator player's rule that defines the essential point-of-view of both sides; that this rule defines the players' points-of-view because the stealer player isn't subject to the rule; and that it is a stealer player's rule that finishes off the defintion of the Terminator player's point-of-view. This is all evidence of subtle game design if you ask me.
I have already explained (in the articles linked above) why I believe the advent of a design focus on a clear and definite player point-of-view to be a legacy of the arrival of the rpg. I believe this same pedigree is evident in the case of Space Hulk. It's fairly obvious really, given GW's early days as an rpg importer and publisher. Interestingly enough the original Space Hulk box displayed a logo announcing the game to be a '3D roleplay game'. I have to confess that I thought this to be a bit spurious at the time. With hindsight though I would have to admit that there was more to this than initially met the eye.
Apart from enforcing the players' points-of-view, and generating gut-wrenching tension on the part of the Terminator player, the timer rule also had another important effect. This was to provide a neat solution to one of the perennial problems of games in general: sitting waiting for your turn. This wasn't a problem for the stealer player, who'd never have to wait more than 6 minutes before their turn.
More interestingly though, it wasn't a problem for the Terminator player either, no matter how long the stealer player lingered over their turn. Why? Because as the Terminator player, the key to good play was constant planning while paying close attention to each and every move the stealer player made. Add in overwatch fire and the use of CP in stealer turns, and you had a game in which player involvement was as near constant as possible, a remarkable feat for a classic I-go-U-go turn structure with simple and one-sided rules for interrupting opponents' turns.
Related@RD/KA!
- Part 1. In the beginning was the hulk
- Part 3. Tactics, tactics, tactics!
Part 2. The timer rule and player point-of-view
Like I said, I haven't done any serious hulking in quite some time now, but when I was I played the game often enough to put it in at #3 in the 1st division of my most-played games. More than that: I reckon I played Space Hulk more intensely than any other game, including Up Front (believe it or not), because it was pretty much the only game I had for a couple of years or so (my then regular gaming opponent wasn't into Up Front that much). We used to play every other week or more, often for 2 days solid, which amounts to several hundred games.In that time I came to cherish the riches that lie behind the deceptive simplicity of the game's basic elements. And don't be fooled by that simplicity. Space Hulk is more than just an atmospheric beer'n'pretzel quickie. It is a demanding tactical challenge requiring cool nerves and the ability to think on your feet. In short: it is a feast of riches derived from simple elements after the fashion of the old school of classic games.
There are 2 key levels on which the rules of Space Hulk work to create such a thrilling gaming experience. One is the ease of play enabled by the simple basic elements. The other is (funnily enough) the way that 2 key elements of the rules combine to give the players well defined points-of-view which mean that the game vividly generates the atmosphere of its theme.
Regular readers might remember my previous comments on the matter of creating definite points-of-view in my articles on Up Front and Memoir'44. Space Hulk contrasts interestingly with these games because it is essentially a good old fashioned board and counters game (the models, however pretty, are purely decorative).
The rules that create these points-of-view are the blip rules and the timer rule. Before going on to explain this, I should note- for the benefit of any old timers who were fans of the 1st edition- that although I played the 1st edition a lot, I was always more au fait with the whole Tyranid hivefleet thing than with the classic stealer cult background of the original game. This experience naturally colours my thinking on how these rules work to enforce the points-of-view of the 2 sides in the game.
The way I see it, the time limit rule is fundamental here. I see it as working like this: the stealer player is not subject to a time limit. Thus able to take as much time as desired, the stealer player is put in the position of the hivemind in all its mysterious workings. In contrast to this the time-limited turns of the Terminator player represents the smaller individual minds of humans (even genetically-engineered supersoldier servants of the God Emperor of Man) and their less efficient coordination based on verbal communication. Thus it is stealer player's luxury of time relative to the time-pressures of the Terminator player that enforce the basic points-of-view of each side.
The blip rules pin down the Terminator player's point-of-view by neatly unifying the perspectives of the individual marines with that of their commander, who is off-board (as ever).
Note the rather odd case I am putting forward here: that it is the Terminator player's rule that defines the essential point-of-view of both sides; that this rule defines the players' points-of-view because the stealer player isn't subject to the rule; and that it is a stealer player's rule that finishes off the defintion of the Terminator player's point-of-view. This is all evidence of subtle game design if you ask me.
I have already explained (in the articles linked above) why I believe the advent of a design focus on a clear and definite player point-of-view to be a legacy of the arrival of the rpg. I believe this same pedigree is evident in the case of Space Hulk. It's fairly obvious really, given GW's early days as an rpg importer and publisher. Interestingly enough the original Space Hulk box displayed a logo announcing the game to be a '3D roleplay game'. I have to confess that I thought this to be a bit spurious at the time. With hindsight though I would have to admit that there was more to this than initially met the eye.
Apart from enforcing the players' points-of-view, and generating gut-wrenching tension on the part of the Terminator player, the timer rule also had another important effect. This was to provide a neat solution to one of the perennial problems of games in general: sitting waiting for your turn. This wasn't a problem for the stealer player, who'd never have to wait more than 6 minutes before their turn.
More interestingly though, it wasn't a problem for the Terminator player either, no matter how long the stealer player lingered over their turn. Why? Because as the Terminator player, the key to good play was constant planning while paying close attention to each and every move the stealer player made. Add in overwatch fire and the use of CP in stealer turns, and you had a game in which player involvement was as near constant as possible, a remarkable feat for a classic I-go-U-go turn structure with simple and one-sided rules for interrupting opponents' turns.
Related@RD/KA!
- Part 1. In the beginning was the hulk
- Part 3. Tactics, tactics, tactics!
Monday, January 02, 2006
A rash of enthusiasm...
... For Space Hulk
Part 1. In the beginning was the hulk
What with the theme of some of my recent posts, I felt it was time for a burst of untrammelled enthusiasm. Where better to look for inspiration then than this classic game from GW?
Space Hulk was the first 40K game from the GW stable I got into. I was given a copy by a friend and before I knew where I was, I'd been introduced to one of the most exhilarating adrenalin-rushes of tactical skirmish boardgaming I've ever played. Playing it week after week as I did in the days before I could afford to amass a playable army back in the dog days of Rogue Trader and the early days of 2nd edition 40K, it wasn't long before Space Hulk entered the first division of my most played games.
It's been quite some time since I did any serious hulking, but those glory days live vividly in my memories, and Space Hulk is up there with games like Up Front and Memoir'44 as one I'd happily give some serious attention to anywhere, anytime.
A bit of history
Space Hulk was first published in 1989, only 2 years after Rogue Trader- the game that launched GW's Dark Millenium on an unsuspecting universe. Adeptus Titanicus- GW's gothic take on Japanese giant robot combat- had been released only the previous year. These then were the days before GW had come to bestride the gaming industry as the behemoth we know today.
So it has to be said that the publication of Space Hulk was something of an event. It came in a big box reminiscent of the kiddies' games like Mouse Trap which many gamers will have loved in their childhoods. And the Space Hulk box was full of goodies equally reminiscent of those games too: 30 clip-together plastic miniatures; a pile of jigcut board sections in thick card; lots of doors with little stands; a pile of counters of similarly chunky quality; and 2 lavishly illustrated rulebooks.
For those already fond of the style of Rogue Trader this was a real treat. And for anyone else? Well, these were the days when the better typical boardgames came in boxes not much bigger than a coffee-table book, with paper maps and fiddly wee counters. So, like I said: the sight of a product like Space Hulk being released by a British company was big news, a real heads up. Just a pity then that I had to wait 3 years before getting my hands on my own copy. Ah well, these things happen. After all, I didn't learn to play backgammon until my early 20's, and goodness knows how many centuries old the game was by then.
The setting
The premise of Space Hulk was simple, and its inspirations obvious to any fans of SF. Space hulks were giant agglomerations of space wreckage drifting randomly through the galaxies of the Dark Millenium. Some of them were infested with Genestealers- relentless and deadly creatures of chitin and slithering flesh. Their sole purpose was to conquer other species, through infiltration and genetic implantation; a kind of extraterrestrial cuckoo if you like. Genestealers were so dangerous that when a space hulk was sighted in human space, only humanity's supreme warriors could face the threat: Imperial space marines equipped with Terminator armour that made them the equivalent of a pocket walking tank.
And so the game pitted skittering bugs with an instinct for slaughter and a taste for alien genes against genetically-engineered supersoldiers with a pathological hatred of the xeno and a holy imperative to protect their geneseed. This potent cocktail of familiar themes revisited through GW's penchant for pushing the macabre to new extremes proved to be another winner.
The game
The basic game itself was beautifully simple. It was played in predefined scenarios, with specific victory conditions for each side. These were called 'missions', a nice touch immediately setting a certain tone ('mission' has a certain imperative lacking in 'scenario' don't you think?). This was enhanced by the cheerful titles of the missions in the basic set: who could resist playing out missions like 'Suicide Mission', 'Exterminate', or 'Cleanse and Burn'? The Dark Millenium was a grim place, and hulking was its grimmest business, and boy, did you know it!
The mission set-ups were quick and easy: just lay out the board- a maze of narrow corridors and small rooms- as per the mission, set up the doors, assemble your forces, and you were good to go.
Terminators came in squads of 5: a sergeant, a heavy flamer trooper, and 3 others. Standard equipment was a storm bolter and a power fist (nifty names again). The sergeant would have a power sword instead of a powerfist, something you'd be really, really grateful for every now and again. You'd have 1 or 2 squads depending on the scenario. And that would be your lot.
If the Terminators were neat (and they were), it was with the Genestealers (Stealers hereafter) that Space Hulk first got really neat. The thing was, Stealers didn't set up on the board as models, they set up as 'blips'. Conceived to represent the hidden movement of Stealers out of sight, coupled with the effects of the scanners on the Terminators' assault ship feeding data into the marines' HUD's, blips were counters representing an unknown number of Stealers- 1, 2 or 3 in the basic game.
These blips couldn't act as Stealers- eg. attack- until they were 'converted', ie. flipped over and replaced with the appropriate number of Stealer models. The rules governing this meant a major element of the game was the war of manoeuvre: the Stealer player looking for the ideal place to convert his blips so as to launch an attack; the Terminator player trying to catch blips in open sight, thus surprising the unwary Stealers (a.k.a. 'involuntary conversion') and gunning them down before they could react.
As well as sneaking about out of sight, the Stealer player also had the advantage of reinforcements. Every turn he would get a certain number of additional blips- drawn at random- which he could place at certain designated entry points beside the board. So a major tactic for the Stealer player was massing and swarming if he could- ie. was drawing good blips; or using bluff and uncertainty if he had to- ie. was drawing puny blips.
The gameplay was neat and clean. The turn structure was I-go-U-go, and models were activated using action points (AP). Terminators had 4 AP, Stealers 6, and the effects of the AP costs of the various actions was to make Terminators slow and lumbering while Stealers were fast and agile. Close combat was based on rolling d6's, highest winning (ties were a standoff). The Stealers had 3d6 to roll and choose from though, to the Terminators' 1d6, so close combat was very one-sided: Terminators who lasted more than 1 round with a Stealer were heroes; those who killed one were legends!
Of course, the Terminators had those storm bolters, so they were hoping that the bugs wouldn't get that close. Shooting was dead easy: roll 2d6 and pray for 6's. If you missed, roll again, and pray for 5's or 6's this time, unless you were storming forward with moving fire or firing in overwatch. Ah yes, overwatch! This was the core of Terminator tactics (except for the flamers that is). A marine could spend AP to set overwatch. This allowed fire at Stealers once per action conducted in LOS in their own turn. This was normal fire with the added risk that if you rolled a double, your gun jammed. You just had to pray that you'd survive long enough to repair it!
The resulting overwatch corridors gave rise to another of the game's crucial conflicts, with the Terminators trying to lure the Stealers onto their guns to thin down their numbers; or trying to hold in one direction while seeking to break through in another. The narrow corridors- 1 model wide, and the small rooms - only 3x3, were useful here. But the Terminators' greatest friend in this respect was the heavy flamer.
Unlike the storm bolter, which could only shoot at one target at a time, the heavy flamer was a template weapon that could clear entire rooms with a single shot. But because they left an impassible wall of flame on the board during the Stealers' turn, their prime use was in blocking corridors. Cutting off the advance of the main Stealer swarm on one flank while storming forward on the other was the mark of a Terminator commander who knew how best to utilise the combination of heavy flamers and overwatching storm bolters.
The Terminators had another trick up their sleeve: Command Points (CP). Representing the effects of the leaders aboard the assault ship, CP were generated by drawing a chit at the start of each Terminator turn to get a value from 1-6. Counting as extra AP available to spend on any marine, these could be spent at any time- including during the Stealers' turn. Of course you could never rely on them, but they gave the Terminators an added edge, and sometimes more.
The last rule in the basic game applied to the Terminators, and it was as important to their play as the blips rules were to the Stealers, and key to the whole game IMO. This was the timer rule. Terminators had only 3 minutes per squad to take their turn. This was reduced to 2 minutes and 30 seconds if a sergeant had been lost. Once the time was up, that was it, turn over.
And that's about that.
A bit more history
As ever Space Hulk received support in White Dwarf, and its success was sufficient for the release of 2 supplements: Deathwing, and Genestealer (both 1990).
Deathwing introduced a host of new rules: Terminator characters; new weapons; rules for multi-level games and new features of the hulk; rules and points values for DIY scenarios, and for solo play. Genestealer introduced genestealer hybrids- different phases of the Stealer life-cycle; new blips; more weapons; the psychic rules; new wider corridors; and Grey Knights.
In 1992 GW also released Tyranid Attack. This was a bit of an oddity. It was a legacy of GW's collaboration with Milton Bradley, featuring the components of their Space Crusade game, and using a set of stripped-down Space Hulk rules. The genestealers had begun to mutate away from their original concept towards what they are today. This is just one aspect of the wider Tyranid species: a hivemind collective that genetically mutates its various subspecies to meet its various needs as it strives to fulfil its purpose, which isn't that much different from that of the original Stealers- ie. the conquest and destruction of all other lifeforms through the absorption of their biomass and genotypes.
The game itself was set aboard a Tyranid hiveship instead of the corridors and rooms of the space hulks of old. It featured space marine scouts against Tyranid warriors instead of Terminators against Stealers. Tyranid Attack wasn't a huge success, and it, and then the rest of the Space Hulk range soon disappeared from the shelves in GW stores.
That wasn't the end of this great game though. It was rereleased in a brand, spanking new edition in 1996, a game which IMO is up there with Blood Bowl 3rd edition and WFRP2 as the best new editions of any GW game, ever.
Space Hulk 2nd edition contained all the bits familiar from 1st edition, and a bit more. For a start it was in glorious full colour: board sections, counters, rulebooks, the lot (well, OK, there were a few black and white illustrations). There were 18 scenarios compared to the 6 of the 1st edition (reprinted in the 2nd edition), and a total of 14 from the 3 parts of the 1st edition. There were nice new Terminator models that were as good as the existing metal miniatures sculpted by the inimitable Jes Goodwin. Thre was some other chrome, like the new shooting dice. And there were the rules.
With one caveat, the rules of 2nd edition Space Hulk cleaned up a few niggling gaps in the originals, and at the same time made some valuable advances. Terminator AP options were tidied up by allowing firing while turning as well as just while moving forwards or backwards- sensible enough when you think about it. Involuntary blip conversion was tweaked to allow the Terminator player to decide the facing of the Stealers- thus giving you your full and just reward for outmanoeuvring the swarm. The LOS rules were simplified in a way that closed down any possibilty of unfortunate arguments while at the same time reinforcing the claustrophobic feel of the confines of the hulk. The blip deck was brought up to date with new blips- 0, 4, 5, and 6- which had been introduced in the expansions to the first edition.
Most important though IMO was the complete rewriting of the heavy flamer rules. The original rules were that the template covered all of the particular board section into which it was fired. This could be as few as 2 squares, or many as 12- obviously a bit dumb, and something that was houseruled away pronto. The new rules gave a heavy flamer 12 flame markers (plus a reload) which could be fired in a 'chain of fire' in a rather realistic way. The overall effect of these rules was neatly to distinguish killing fire from blocking fire while also stripping out any record keeping when it came to the blocking wall of fire. Playable and clever: I liked it!
So what was this caveat I referred to? Simple: they left out the timer rules for the Terminators. The charge of dumbing down is often levelled at GW in respect of new editions of their games. I'm not usually in agreement with these opinions. I am in this case though. Removing the timer rules gutted the game of one of its key features. Terminators in Space Hulk without the timer is like alcohol-free lager, or decaffinated coffee- it's unnatural in other words. Spending CP in the Stealers' turn was also left out, but that's not so important. Both were houseruled back in in any event.
Despite this high quality, the new edition wasn't universally popular among the fans of the original. The most common complaint I've heard was that there weren't all the expansions the 1st edition enjoyed. This is undeniable. In this respect the new edition fell victim to the corporate policies that had come to rule GW in the days since 1st edition: the game simply didn't have the margins to make it worth the company's while, whether we like it or not.
Beyond that though, it has to be noted that all the extra rules from the expansions to the 1st edition ended up making the game unwieldy. The simple shooting rules had been replaced with tables where you cross-referenced weapon and target type to get the d6 score needed to hit. And then there were the psychic rules. Even fans of the 1st edition are wont to agree that the psychic rules were simply over the top. And that's not to mention all the complications introduced by the arrival of the Chaos Space marines, power armoured marines, and so on, in the pages of White Dwarf.
Against the complainers, I would have to point out that the simple and deadly hi-octane carnage of the original game had got lost under all the chrome. The game needed to be stripped back to its core and reworked; maybe then it could've been re-expanded. Sad to say, when this was done- and done very well indeed IMO- a game like Space Hulk was no longer on GW's agenda. This classic tactical skirmish game had fallen victim to the very corporate policies that had made its revision possible. ;)
Related@RD/KA!
- Part 2. The timer rule and player point-of-view
- Part 3. Tactics, tactics, tactics!
Part 1. In the beginning was the hulk
What with the theme of some of my recent posts, I felt it was time for a burst of untrammelled enthusiasm. Where better to look for inspiration then than this classic game from GW?Space Hulk was the first 40K game from the GW stable I got into. I was given a copy by a friend and before I knew where I was, I'd been introduced to one of the most exhilarating adrenalin-rushes of tactical skirmish boardgaming I've ever played. Playing it week after week as I did in the days before I could afford to amass a playable army back in the dog days of Rogue Trader and the early days of 2nd edition 40K, it wasn't long before Space Hulk entered the first division of my most played games.
It's been quite some time since I did any serious hulking, but those glory days live vividly in my memories, and Space Hulk is up there with games like Up Front and Memoir'44 as one I'd happily give some serious attention to anywhere, anytime.
A bit of history
Space Hulk was first published in 1989, only 2 years after Rogue Trader- the game that launched GW's Dark Millenium on an unsuspecting universe. Adeptus Titanicus- GW's gothic take on Japanese giant robot combat- had been released only the previous year. These then were the days before GW had come to bestride the gaming industry as the behemoth we know today.
So it has to be said that the publication of Space Hulk was something of an event. It came in a big box reminiscent of the kiddies' games like Mouse Trap which many gamers will have loved in their childhoods. And the Space Hulk box was full of goodies equally reminiscent of those games too: 30 clip-together plastic miniatures; a pile of jigcut board sections in thick card; lots of doors with little stands; a pile of counters of similarly chunky quality; and 2 lavishly illustrated rulebooks.
For those already fond of the style of Rogue Trader this was a real treat. And for anyone else? Well, these were the days when the better typical boardgames came in boxes not much bigger than a coffee-table book, with paper maps and fiddly wee counters. So, like I said: the sight of a product like Space Hulk being released by a British company was big news, a real heads up. Just a pity then that I had to wait 3 years before getting my hands on my own copy. Ah well, these things happen. After all, I didn't learn to play backgammon until my early 20's, and goodness knows how many centuries old the game was by then.
The setting
The premise of Space Hulk was simple, and its inspirations obvious to any fans of SF. Space hulks were giant agglomerations of space wreckage drifting randomly through the galaxies of the Dark Millenium. Some of them were infested with Genestealers- relentless and deadly creatures of chitin and slithering flesh. Their sole purpose was to conquer other species, through infiltration and genetic implantation; a kind of extraterrestrial cuckoo if you like. Genestealers were so dangerous that when a space hulk was sighted in human space, only humanity's supreme warriors could face the threat: Imperial space marines equipped with Terminator armour that made them the equivalent of a pocket walking tank.
And so the game pitted skittering bugs with an instinct for slaughter and a taste for alien genes against genetically-engineered supersoldiers with a pathological hatred of the xeno and a holy imperative to protect their geneseed. This potent cocktail of familiar themes revisited through GW's penchant for pushing the macabre to new extremes proved to be another winner.
The game
The basic game itself was beautifully simple. It was played in predefined scenarios, with specific victory conditions for each side. These were called 'missions', a nice touch immediately setting a certain tone ('mission' has a certain imperative lacking in 'scenario' don't you think?). This was enhanced by the cheerful titles of the missions in the basic set: who could resist playing out missions like 'Suicide Mission', 'Exterminate', or 'Cleanse and Burn'? The Dark Millenium was a grim place, and hulking was its grimmest business, and boy, did you know it!
The mission set-ups were quick and easy: just lay out the board- a maze of narrow corridors and small rooms- as per the mission, set up the doors, assemble your forces, and you were good to go.
Terminators came in squads of 5: a sergeant, a heavy flamer trooper, and 3 others. Standard equipment was a storm bolter and a power fist (nifty names again). The sergeant would have a power sword instead of a powerfist, something you'd be really, really grateful for every now and again. You'd have 1 or 2 squads depending on the scenario. And that would be your lot.
If the Terminators were neat (and they were), it was with the Genestealers (Stealers hereafter) that Space Hulk first got really neat. The thing was, Stealers didn't set up on the board as models, they set up as 'blips'. Conceived to represent the hidden movement of Stealers out of sight, coupled with the effects of the scanners on the Terminators' assault ship feeding data into the marines' HUD's, blips were counters representing an unknown number of Stealers- 1, 2 or 3 in the basic game.
These blips couldn't act as Stealers- eg. attack- until they were 'converted', ie. flipped over and replaced with the appropriate number of Stealer models. The rules governing this meant a major element of the game was the war of manoeuvre: the Stealer player looking for the ideal place to convert his blips so as to launch an attack; the Terminator player trying to catch blips in open sight, thus surprising the unwary Stealers (a.k.a. 'involuntary conversion') and gunning them down before they could react.
As well as sneaking about out of sight, the Stealer player also had the advantage of reinforcements. Every turn he would get a certain number of additional blips- drawn at random- which he could place at certain designated entry points beside the board. So a major tactic for the Stealer player was massing and swarming if he could- ie. was drawing good blips; or using bluff and uncertainty if he had to- ie. was drawing puny blips.
The gameplay was neat and clean. The turn structure was I-go-U-go, and models were activated using action points (AP). Terminators had 4 AP, Stealers 6, and the effects of the AP costs of the various actions was to make Terminators slow and lumbering while Stealers were fast and agile. Close combat was based on rolling d6's, highest winning (ties were a standoff). The Stealers had 3d6 to roll and choose from though, to the Terminators' 1d6, so close combat was very one-sided: Terminators who lasted more than 1 round with a Stealer were heroes; those who killed one were legends!
Of course, the Terminators had those storm bolters, so they were hoping that the bugs wouldn't get that close. Shooting was dead easy: roll 2d6 and pray for 6's. If you missed, roll again, and pray for 5's or 6's this time, unless you were storming forward with moving fire or firing in overwatch. Ah yes, overwatch! This was the core of Terminator tactics (except for the flamers that is). A marine could spend AP to set overwatch. This allowed fire at Stealers once per action conducted in LOS in their own turn. This was normal fire with the added risk that if you rolled a double, your gun jammed. You just had to pray that you'd survive long enough to repair it!
The resulting overwatch corridors gave rise to another of the game's crucial conflicts, with the Terminators trying to lure the Stealers onto their guns to thin down their numbers; or trying to hold in one direction while seeking to break through in another. The narrow corridors- 1 model wide, and the small rooms - only 3x3, were useful here. But the Terminators' greatest friend in this respect was the heavy flamer.
Unlike the storm bolter, which could only shoot at one target at a time, the heavy flamer was a template weapon that could clear entire rooms with a single shot. But because they left an impassible wall of flame on the board during the Stealers' turn, their prime use was in blocking corridors. Cutting off the advance of the main Stealer swarm on one flank while storming forward on the other was the mark of a Terminator commander who knew how best to utilise the combination of heavy flamers and overwatching storm bolters.
The Terminators had another trick up their sleeve: Command Points (CP). Representing the effects of the leaders aboard the assault ship, CP were generated by drawing a chit at the start of each Terminator turn to get a value from 1-6. Counting as extra AP available to spend on any marine, these could be spent at any time- including during the Stealers' turn. Of course you could never rely on them, but they gave the Terminators an added edge, and sometimes more.
The last rule in the basic game applied to the Terminators, and it was as important to their play as the blips rules were to the Stealers, and key to the whole game IMO. This was the timer rule. Terminators had only 3 minutes per squad to take their turn. This was reduced to 2 minutes and 30 seconds if a sergeant had been lost. Once the time was up, that was it, turn over.
And that's about that.
A bit more history
As ever Space Hulk received support in White Dwarf, and its success was sufficient for the release of 2 supplements: Deathwing, and Genestealer (both 1990).
Deathwing introduced a host of new rules: Terminator characters; new weapons; rules for multi-level games and new features of the hulk; rules and points values for DIY scenarios, and for solo play. Genestealer introduced genestealer hybrids- different phases of the Stealer life-cycle; new blips; more weapons; the psychic rules; new wider corridors; and Grey Knights.
In 1992 GW also released Tyranid Attack. This was a bit of an oddity. It was a legacy of GW's collaboration with Milton Bradley, featuring the components of their Space Crusade game, and using a set of stripped-down Space Hulk rules. The genestealers had begun to mutate away from their original concept towards what they are today. This is just one aspect of the wider Tyranid species: a hivemind collective that genetically mutates its various subspecies to meet its various needs as it strives to fulfil its purpose, which isn't that much different from that of the original Stealers- ie. the conquest and destruction of all other lifeforms through the absorption of their biomass and genotypes.
The game itself was set aboard a Tyranid hiveship instead of the corridors and rooms of the space hulks of old. It featured space marine scouts against Tyranid warriors instead of Terminators against Stealers. Tyranid Attack wasn't a huge success, and it, and then the rest of the Space Hulk range soon disappeared from the shelves in GW stores.
That wasn't the end of this great game though. It was rereleased in a brand, spanking new edition in 1996, a game which IMO is up there with Blood Bowl 3rd edition and WFRP2 as the best new editions of any GW game, ever.
Space Hulk 2nd edition contained all the bits familiar from 1st edition, and a bit more. For a start it was in glorious full colour: board sections, counters, rulebooks, the lot (well, OK, there were a few black and white illustrations). There were 18 scenarios compared to the 6 of the 1st edition (reprinted in the 2nd edition), and a total of 14 from the 3 parts of the 1st edition. There were nice new Terminator models that were as good as the existing metal miniatures sculpted by the inimitable Jes Goodwin. Thre was some other chrome, like the new shooting dice. And there were the rules.
With one caveat, the rules of 2nd edition Space Hulk cleaned up a few niggling gaps in the originals, and at the same time made some valuable advances. Terminator AP options were tidied up by allowing firing while turning as well as just while moving forwards or backwards- sensible enough when you think about it. Involuntary blip conversion was tweaked to allow the Terminator player to decide the facing of the Stealers- thus giving you your full and just reward for outmanoeuvring the swarm. The LOS rules were simplified in a way that closed down any possibilty of unfortunate arguments while at the same time reinforcing the claustrophobic feel of the confines of the hulk. The blip deck was brought up to date with new blips- 0, 4, 5, and 6- which had been introduced in the expansions to the first edition.
Most important though IMO was the complete rewriting of the heavy flamer rules. The original rules were that the template covered all of the particular board section into which it was fired. This could be as few as 2 squares, or many as 12- obviously a bit dumb, and something that was houseruled away pronto. The new rules gave a heavy flamer 12 flame markers (plus a reload) which could be fired in a 'chain of fire' in a rather realistic way. The overall effect of these rules was neatly to distinguish killing fire from blocking fire while also stripping out any record keeping when it came to the blocking wall of fire. Playable and clever: I liked it!
So what was this caveat I referred to? Simple: they left out the timer rules for the Terminators. The charge of dumbing down is often levelled at GW in respect of new editions of their games. I'm not usually in agreement with these opinions. I am in this case though. Removing the timer rules gutted the game of one of its key features. Terminators in Space Hulk without the timer is like alcohol-free lager, or decaffinated coffee- it's unnatural in other words. Spending CP in the Stealers' turn was also left out, but that's not so important. Both were houseruled back in in any event.
Despite this high quality, the new edition wasn't universally popular among the fans of the original. The most common complaint I've heard was that there weren't all the expansions the 1st edition enjoyed. This is undeniable. In this respect the new edition fell victim to the corporate policies that had come to rule GW in the days since 1st edition: the game simply didn't have the margins to make it worth the company's while, whether we like it or not.
Beyond that though, it has to be noted that all the extra rules from the expansions to the 1st edition ended up making the game unwieldy. The simple shooting rules had been replaced with tables where you cross-referenced weapon and target type to get the d6 score needed to hit. And then there were the psychic rules. Even fans of the 1st edition are wont to agree that the psychic rules were simply over the top. And that's not to mention all the complications introduced by the arrival of the Chaos Space marines, power armoured marines, and so on, in the pages of White Dwarf.
Against the complainers, I would have to point out that the simple and deadly hi-octane carnage of the original game had got lost under all the chrome. The game needed to be stripped back to its core and reworked; maybe then it could've been re-expanded. Sad to say, when this was done- and done very well indeed IMO- a game like Space Hulk was no longer on GW's agenda. This classic tactical skirmish game had fallen victim to the very corporate policies that had made its revision possible. ;)
Related@RD/KA!
- Part 2. The timer rule and player point-of-view
- Part 3. Tactics, tactics, tactics!
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Light at the end of the tunnel?
So, it's the new year. Everyone's taking stock, and I'm again in the position of confronting a long absence from my blog- more than 3 weeks this time, and for the same reason: I'm down. So again I face the prospect of doing something I've been putting off for so long that embarrassment at how long I've been putting it off is now as big a reason for putting it off as any other. I'm sure many readers of this will be familiar with that neurotic experience. Perhaps though, you won't be quite so familiar with the way in which it can become catastrophically paralysing for depressives and other mentally ill people.
I mean: I can write that I'm down, blue, depressed, and people can think oh yes, I know what you mean. This happens all the time. And it's true: most people get down, depressed at some time or another. But that's not the point, really. I say this because the everyday blues that the trials and tribulations of life inflicts upon all but the most fortunate really aren't in the same league as clinical depression.
Now please don't get me wrong. This is not some sob story. Far from it. This is something I have to say in order to cope with the act of keeping my blog alive after another long lag, an act which still means something to me. These words are a coping mechanism in other words. If you want to get an idea of where I'm coming from on this, I would recommend you read Philip K. Dick's 'Introduction' to The Golden Man, a fabulous essay reprinted in The Shifting Realities of Philip K. Dick: Selected Literary and Philosophical Writings (Vintage Books, 1995).
Philip K. Dick has been my literary hero for more than 20 years. I like to regard him as one of the greatest unsung humanist writers of the 20th century, and I can still remember the fortunate happenstance whereby I picked up my first 3 Dick books (yes, it's an old, old joke for us fans!). As a young man I was struck by the humane depths of his writing- expressed through his characters- which I knew were virtually unique. At the same time my callow youth rendered these depths opaque to me. It was as if I was only seeing the tip of an iceberg floating in a sea of time I would need years and years the depths of which to plumb. That's what it's felt like returning to Dick's books down the years.
Funnily enough though, however much I have lived with my memories of Dick's fiction, it is the impression of his 'Introduction' to The Golden Man that has been the most intense, and to which I have returned most often. The Golden Man was a short story anthology published in 1980, at just about the time when Dick was really beginning to enjoy the reputation he deserved, and a tragic 2 years before his untimely death. I can still remember where I was living when I first read this essay; who I discussed it with; and how we were overwhelmed by the power of its honesty, of the simplicity of its account of endurance in the face of suffering.
And Philip K. Dick was certainly a man who knew about suffering in the affluent society of the postwar western world: dire poverty; druggie friends dying all around him; and a history of mental illness all of his own. Dick's words were those of a survivor, not those of a well-meaning observer. Which is why they became a touchstone for me down the years, a memory I would bring out and cherish, after the fashion of a primitive huddled around a fire for warmth in the darkness. Nobody else has ever written anything that has done quite that much for me.
It was the absence of piteous bleating above all that I remember from that essay, which is why it came to mind when I was trying to explain the difference between the blues and clinical depression. Because it's hard to explain that difference, all the more so since bleating piteously strikes me as a pretty succint defintion of the state of mind of the clinically depressed. So look at it like this: imagine spraining your wrist or twisting your ankle- that's the blues. Breaking your arm or your leg? That's clinical depression. But losing the use of your arm and/or your leg? That's manic depression.The difference is that between a more or less passing inconvenience and an enduring handicap.
Meanwhile, again in search of a lighter note on this topic, here's an interesting fact about mania. Did you know that hair and fingernails grow more rapidly when you're manic (well, mine do at least). I imagine it's got something to do with the increase in metabolic rate that is part of the condition. I also like to imagine that this phenomenon might have something to do with the werewolf myth, don't you think?
Well that's that for today. More soon I hope. In the meantime: a happy new year to everyone! ;)
I mean: I can write that I'm down, blue, depressed, and people can think oh yes, I know what you mean. This happens all the time. And it's true: most people get down, depressed at some time or another. But that's not the point, really. I say this because the everyday blues that the trials and tribulations of life inflicts upon all but the most fortunate really aren't in the same league as clinical depression.
Now please don't get me wrong. This is not some sob story. Far from it. This is something I have to say in order to cope with the act of keeping my blog alive after another long lag, an act which still means something to me. These words are a coping mechanism in other words. If you want to get an idea of where I'm coming from on this, I would recommend you read Philip K. Dick's 'Introduction' to The Golden Man, a fabulous essay reprinted in The Shifting Realities of Philip K. Dick: Selected Literary and Philosophical Writings (Vintage Books, 1995).
Philip K. Dick has been my literary hero for more than 20 years. I like to regard him as one of the greatest unsung humanist writers of the 20th century, and I can still remember the fortunate happenstance whereby I picked up my first 3 Dick books (yes, it's an old, old joke for us fans!). As a young man I was struck by the humane depths of his writing- expressed through his characters- which I knew were virtually unique. At the same time my callow youth rendered these depths opaque to me. It was as if I was only seeing the tip of an iceberg floating in a sea of time I would need years and years the depths of which to plumb. That's what it's felt like returning to Dick's books down the years.
Funnily enough though, however much I have lived with my memories of Dick's fiction, it is the impression of his 'Introduction' to The Golden Man that has been the most intense, and to which I have returned most often. The Golden Man was a short story anthology published in 1980, at just about the time when Dick was really beginning to enjoy the reputation he deserved, and a tragic 2 years before his untimely death. I can still remember where I was living when I first read this essay; who I discussed it with; and how we were overwhelmed by the power of its honesty, of the simplicity of its account of endurance in the face of suffering.
And Philip K. Dick was certainly a man who knew about suffering in the affluent society of the postwar western world: dire poverty; druggie friends dying all around him; and a history of mental illness all of his own. Dick's words were those of a survivor, not those of a well-meaning observer. Which is why they became a touchstone for me down the years, a memory I would bring out and cherish, after the fashion of a primitive huddled around a fire for warmth in the darkness. Nobody else has ever written anything that has done quite that much for me.
It was the absence of piteous bleating above all that I remember from that essay, which is why it came to mind when I was trying to explain the difference between the blues and clinical depression. Because it's hard to explain that difference, all the more so since bleating piteously strikes me as a pretty succint defintion of the state of mind of the clinically depressed. So look at it like this: imagine spraining your wrist or twisting your ankle- that's the blues. Breaking your arm or your leg? That's clinical depression. But losing the use of your arm and/or your leg? That's manic depression.The difference is that between a more or less passing inconvenience and an enduring handicap.
Meanwhile, again in search of a lighter note on this topic, here's an interesting fact about mania. Did you know that hair and fingernails grow more rapidly when you're manic (well, mine do at least). I imagine it's got something to do with the increase in metabolic rate that is part of the condition. I also like to imagine that this phenomenon might have something to do with the werewolf myth, don't you think?
Well that's that for today. More soon I hope. In the meantime: a happy new year to everyone! ;)
Friday, December 09, 2005
My little Old World
The GM's confession
So there you have it: my first attempt at plotting my own scenario in my WFRP campaign, and it turns out to be a shaggy dog story. Hardly auspicious I have to say. So what happened? Two things in essence.
First, as the adventure advanced haltingly from session to session, I became ever more aware of the glaring loopholes in the basic scheme of the plot. When the initial message was passed on to Siegfried, I had a notion in mind of how the various secret tongues and signs in the Old World could be used to pass a message up the line a bit more quickly than the pace of the fastest messenger. As time went on, this began to look more and more unlikely. The consequence of this was that the situation of peril into which the PC's were supposed to arrive 'in the nick of time' looked increasingly like one which would have been essentially resolved by the time the PC's arrived.
I tried to figure out various fixes to these problems, but they began to look increasingly contrived in my mind's eye. In addition, even if these fixes could've been made to hold together, they began to look ever more complex at a time when I was more and more interested in just getting the damn thing over with so that I could get back to running published material as I had been doing.
The other main problem was the plausibility of the whole threat itself. This was brought home forcefully to me in the encounter with the outlaws, which cost the PC's 3 fate points. I began to realise that a threat sufficiently dangerous to require a call for help such as the one I had posited would be too dangerous for the party to face, not to mention strong enough pretty much to have mopped-up at the scene long before the PC's arrived. A threat that avoided these 2 problems suffered from the fairly obvious problem of being insufficient to require a call for help in the first place.
Again, I considered potential fixes to this problem, but they all seemed to point in the direction of increased complexity and added playing time just when, as I have already noted, the dynamic of the game itself demanded the opposite.
And so it was that I found myself caught between a rock and hard place, with the session in which these issues would have to be resolved- and quickly- rapidly approaching. There was only one thing for it I decided: I had to abort the whole sorry episode, and turn it into something that fed back into what had been going on in Middenheim before my injudicious diversion. Not the most satisfactory of outcomes I realised, but one that could work if I put in the appropriate hooks for the players' emotions, while also adding new layers of intrigue and paranoia.
That much seems to have worked rather well, but even in that I made a crucial mistake. Nervous as I was at the outrageous stunt I was about to pull after some 4 sessions, I telegraphed the outcome to my players with a couple of cheesy jokes before the session got under way.
Ah well, c'est la vie. Still, the session went quite well all the same, because I'd prepared it more thoroughly than recent ones. And the players quite enjoyed themselves. So all's well that ends well I guess. Anyhoo, I've learned one lesson that I'll bear in mind for quite some time to come: with 3 volumes of the 'Paths of the Damned' to hand or imminent, Plundered Vaults, scenarios in other BI supplements, plus some 29 scenarios downloaded from the BI website and elsewhere, I really don't need to hurry to invent my own plotlines. I'll just stick to adding my own touches to these ones for the forseeable future I think!
Related@RD/KA!
From Altdorf to Corman's Landing
- #1 Curiouser and Curiouser
- #2 The Plot Thickens
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
So there you have it: my first attempt at plotting my own scenario in my WFRP campaign, and it turns out to be a shaggy dog story. Hardly auspicious I have to say. So what happened? Two things in essence.
First, as the adventure advanced haltingly from session to session, I became ever more aware of the glaring loopholes in the basic scheme of the plot. When the initial message was passed on to Siegfried, I had a notion in mind of how the various secret tongues and signs in the Old World could be used to pass a message up the line a bit more quickly than the pace of the fastest messenger. As time went on, this began to look more and more unlikely. The consequence of this was that the situation of peril into which the PC's were supposed to arrive 'in the nick of time' looked increasingly like one which would have been essentially resolved by the time the PC's arrived.
I tried to figure out various fixes to these problems, but they began to look increasingly contrived in my mind's eye. In addition, even if these fixes could've been made to hold together, they began to look ever more complex at a time when I was more and more interested in just getting the damn thing over with so that I could get back to running published material as I had been doing.
The other main problem was the plausibility of the whole threat itself. This was brought home forcefully to me in the encounter with the outlaws, which cost the PC's 3 fate points. I began to realise that a threat sufficiently dangerous to require a call for help such as the one I had posited would be too dangerous for the party to face, not to mention strong enough pretty much to have mopped-up at the scene long before the PC's arrived. A threat that avoided these 2 problems suffered from the fairly obvious problem of being insufficient to require a call for help in the first place.
Again, I considered potential fixes to this problem, but they all seemed to point in the direction of increased complexity and added playing time just when, as I have already noted, the dynamic of the game itself demanded the opposite.
And so it was that I found myself caught between a rock and hard place, with the session in which these issues would have to be resolved- and quickly- rapidly approaching. There was only one thing for it I decided: I had to abort the whole sorry episode, and turn it into something that fed back into what had been going on in Middenheim before my injudicious diversion. Not the most satisfactory of outcomes I realised, but one that could work if I put in the appropriate hooks for the players' emotions, while also adding new layers of intrigue and paranoia.
That much seems to have worked rather well, but even in that I made a crucial mistake. Nervous as I was at the outrageous stunt I was about to pull after some 4 sessions, I telegraphed the outcome to my players with a couple of cheesy jokes before the session got under way.
Ah well, c'est la vie. Still, the session went quite well all the same, because I'd prepared it more thoroughly than recent ones. And the players quite enjoyed themselves. So all's well that ends well I guess. Anyhoo, I've learned one lesson that I'll bear in mind for quite some time to come: with 3 volumes of the 'Paths of the Damned' to hand or imminent, Plundered Vaults, scenarios in other BI supplements, plus some 29 scenarios downloaded from the BI website and elsewhere, I really don't need to hurry to invent my own plotlines. I'll just stick to adding my own touches to these ones for the forseeable future I think!
Related@RD/KA!
From Altdorf to Corman's Landing
- #1 Curiouser and Curiouser
- #2 The Plot Thickens
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Thursday, December 08, 2005
My little Old World: From Altdorf to Corman's Landing #2
The Plot Thickens
The overnight stay in Wurtbad proved uneventful. Taking a rest from his work, Grundi noticed Machholt and Reinholt talking to someone, who soon departed. The same scene was again witnessed by Grundi, and also by Seigfried, the following morning, outside the inn the party was sharing with the merchant and his servant, but nothing came of it- merchants seeking new deals have to foster contacts after all.
And so the party set out on the last leg of their trip down the River Stir in the Black Swan: 2 more uneventful days marked by a following wind helping them make good time, and by flurries of snow which never became the threatening storm. Arriving in Marburg they stayed in the Bosun's Rest they had visited so many months before. There they were recognised by the innkeeper and given a friendly reception.
Seigfreid took advantage of this to pursue a scheme involving the purchase of a horse. The innkeeper directed him to a farmer who might have an old horse to sell. It turned out that the farmer did indeed have a tired old nag he was happy to sell. The price for this discovery was a lengthy chat with the garrulous old goat, in the course of which Siegfried did at least hear a couple of interesting tales. The first was that the outlaw Heinz Gerber was still at large and had recently been active in the area. The other was that Ernst the boatman- who had gone missing when the PC's had last been in the area- had killed himself after his wife Renata had run off with another man. These tales served to remind the PC's that they were returning to the scene of former triumphs.
The following morning the party set off bright and early for Corman's Landing, the site of the Strutting Cock inn. Detouring only briefly to visit the farm for the purchase of Siegfried's 'new' horse, they made good time northwards. Then they heard 2 voices shouting at each other round a bend in the road.
Nursing painful memories, the party halted while Seigfried sneaked ahead through the woods to scout the situation out. Soon enough he saw a cart with a broken axle and 2 peasants arguing over whose fault it had been. Reassured, Siegfried snuck back to the party, and together they continued up the road.
The 2 peasants stood slack-jawed in fear at the sight of the party, the elf and 2 heavily-armed dwarfs in particular. Attempts to glean information about events at the Strutting Cock proved futile other than to elicit the pair's fear that the party were outlaws. Siegfried treated this suggestion with scorn, and headed off up the road. Torn between a desire to help the stranded pair and the need to press on, the others dithered for a while, before following Siegfried, with the promise to send help from the Strutting Cock.
Soon thereafter the party approached the edge of Corman's Landing. Siegfried organised his plan. He had some smart new clothes and a horse. He would pose as a noble, while the rest of the party played the parts of his bodyguards and other members of his retinue. The idea, he explained, was to have a cover story ready to explain their presence to any evildoers they should encounter ahead. Thus prepared, the party proceeded, Berthold slung over the back of the horse because he had by this time fallen quite ill.
Breaking out of the treeline into the open space of Corman's Landing the party caught sight of the inn, the tollhouse, and the other buildings they remembered. Everything seemed strangely normal, and they could hear the birdsong from the surrounding trees as they approached the Strutting Cock. Entering the inn's courtyard, they headed first for the stables. Finding the stables empty roused their suspicions.
Undaunted, they made for the entrance to the inn. On the way they passed the kitchen window. Looking inside, they saw Heidi Handler and 2 serving girls hard at work. Seigfried approached and by dint of hand signals tried to get Heidi to come out and speak to him. Heidi's only reply was shrugs of incomprehension. In the end, she opened the kitchen window and asked Seigfried what was the matter.
We're here because of Josef's message Siegfried explained. What message Heidi asked. The message he sent asking for our help because he was in trouble explained Siegfried. Heidi patently didn't understand what he was talking about. I think you'd better speak to Josef she said. Realisation began to dawn on the PC's, and Mordrin kicked a stone which narrowly avoided breaking the kitchen window.
The party made their way into the inn. In the bar room they found Josef Haarig, Emmerich Handler and a servant decorating the room for the annual harvest festival. Even as the PC's began to wonder what was going on, Siegfried was struck by the realisation that he'd almost forgotten about Mittherbst, one of the major feast days of his god, Ulric. Meanwhile, Haarig welcomed the party as long-lost friends.
Soon enough, the party began to explain why they were there, only to find that Josef knew nothing at all about the message he was supposed to have sent. He did however grasp that they had travelled all the way back from Middenheim on the strength of a message that he and his inn were in peril. So he sat them down with some food and drink, and proceeded to get the whole story out of them.
Haarig was moved and deeply touched by the PC's story, reminding them that he was already in their debt because Grundi and Alane had saved his inn from the curse of having innocent blood spilt on its grounds. He began to review their tale, and just as he did so, Seigfried and Mordrin jumped to the same conclusion at the same time: somebody had wanted them out of Mordheim. Siegfried cursed the name of Beyer and began vowing bloody vengance.
The conversation continued and the PC's began to realise that there were hidden depths to this garrulous innkeeper as he took all their tales of intrigue in his stride. In the end, he pointed out to them that they had progressed from their adventures around Corman's Landing to serving some of the most powerful people in Middenheim. Haarig noted it was likely that they had made similarly powerful enemies.
The talk also turned to Beyer's companions. Josef told the PC's that they had been working with Captain Kurtz and his roadwardens and with Lars the bounty hunter to help restore law and order after the local soldiery and militias had mustered to march north to help defend the Empire against the Chaos incursions. The innkeeper warned the PC's to be wary of Kaltenbach, the leader of the group, who Josef described as a hard and brutal man.
As the PC's sat trying to absorb what Haarig was telling them, the innkeeper announced that they were his guests, and that they would pay not a single penny for their food and drink, neither that night, nor during the festival tomorrow. Josef went off to get on with his work.
The party sat around in the barroom as it filled up for the evening. The locals were familiar with the PC's and their previous exploits, and Josef made sure that they soon knew all about why the party had returned. The PC's found themselves the centre of friendly curiosity. The locals were agitated by rumours of an impending grain requisition, about which one Theoderic- one of Kurtz's roadwardens, currently on duty at the tollhouse- was particularly exercised. That night though, the PC's stories of heroic adventure gave the local farmers something more diverting to think about
Basking in the glow of the locals' admiration for their exploits, the PC's played up to their reputation as local heroes, and soon forgot their troubles. Except for Berthold, who was too busy being ill upstairs, and Siegfried, who continued to bemoan his wasted 60gc, and to nurse his deepening grudge against Beyer, Kaltenbach, and anyone else he might find had been involved in this pointless diversion.
Mittherbst dawned crisp and clear. Seigfried was still brooding, but Grundi and Mordrin sat down to breakfast with typical dwarfen gusto. As they ate they were approached by a young man in the trailworn garb of a woodsman. He introduced himself as Corvin Liess. Liess explained that he was a Longshanks- a servant of the gods Taal and Rhya, and that he was investigating the disappearance of his mentor and his confessor.
Faced with the incomprehension of the 2 dwarfs, the young Longshanks explained his duties as a guardian of the holy places of the woods. He then explained that his missing companions- a priest of Taal and a fellow Longshanks- had last been seen boarding the missing boat of Ernst the boatman. The young fellow told the PC's that he knew of their own search for Ernst, and asked if they had any information that might help him in his search. The PC's had to confess they knew nothing that might help him.
Corman's Landing was by this time beginning to fill up with local families arriving for the day's festivities. Children ran around shrieking with delight as they took part in the games and other diversions. After a while, something about the decorations struck a chord in the dwarfs' minds- some of them reminded the pair of Reinholt's corn doll. They spoke to Josef, who directed them to Liess.
Hearing what they had to say, Liess reacted with shock. He asked them to explain in detail what they had seen. Had they seen a symbol of a sickle he asked them. Grundi and Mordrin racked their brains, and concluded that they did have a vague memory of a ring that Luthor Machholt had been wearing. The young Longshanks explained that these were the symbols of Ahalt the Drinker, a god of the Old Faith whose followers were the sworn enemies of the followers of Taal and Rhya because their cults had supplanted Ahalt's own.
Liess thanked the 2 dwarfs for their information, and went off to play his part in the day's celebrations. Grundi and Mordrin were left with the impression of a sincere young man a little out of his depth.
The rest of the day passed peacefully as the PC's took full advantage of Josef's generous hospitality and joined in the Mittherbst celebrations with gusto. Except for Siegfreid, who spent the day brooding in his room, before going out that night to conduct private rituals to Ulric to mark his own celebration of Mittherbst.
Related@RD/KA!
From Altdorf to Corman's Landing
- #1 Curiouser and Curiouser
- The GM's confession: again I lament.
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
The overnight stay in Wurtbad proved uneventful. Taking a rest from his work, Grundi noticed Machholt and Reinholt talking to someone, who soon departed. The same scene was again witnessed by Grundi, and also by Seigfried, the following morning, outside the inn the party was sharing with the merchant and his servant, but nothing came of it- merchants seeking new deals have to foster contacts after all.
And so the party set out on the last leg of their trip down the River Stir in the Black Swan: 2 more uneventful days marked by a following wind helping them make good time, and by flurries of snow which never became the threatening storm. Arriving in Marburg they stayed in the Bosun's Rest they had visited so many months before. There they were recognised by the innkeeper and given a friendly reception.
Seigfreid took advantage of this to pursue a scheme involving the purchase of a horse. The innkeeper directed him to a farmer who might have an old horse to sell. It turned out that the farmer did indeed have a tired old nag he was happy to sell. The price for this discovery was a lengthy chat with the garrulous old goat, in the course of which Siegfried did at least hear a couple of interesting tales. The first was that the outlaw Heinz Gerber was still at large and had recently been active in the area. The other was that Ernst the boatman- who had gone missing when the PC's had last been in the area- had killed himself after his wife Renata had run off with another man. These tales served to remind the PC's that they were returning to the scene of former triumphs.
The following morning the party set off bright and early for Corman's Landing, the site of the Strutting Cock inn. Detouring only briefly to visit the farm for the purchase of Siegfried's 'new' horse, they made good time northwards. Then they heard 2 voices shouting at each other round a bend in the road.
Nursing painful memories, the party halted while Seigfried sneaked ahead through the woods to scout the situation out. Soon enough he saw a cart with a broken axle and 2 peasants arguing over whose fault it had been. Reassured, Siegfried snuck back to the party, and together they continued up the road.
The 2 peasants stood slack-jawed in fear at the sight of the party, the elf and 2 heavily-armed dwarfs in particular. Attempts to glean information about events at the Strutting Cock proved futile other than to elicit the pair's fear that the party were outlaws. Siegfried treated this suggestion with scorn, and headed off up the road. Torn between a desire to help the stranded pair and the need to press on, the others dithered for a while, before following Siegfried, with the promise to send help from the Strutting Cock.
Soon thereafter the party approached the edge of Corman's Landing. Siegfried organised his plan. He had some smart new clothes and a horse. He would pose as a noble, while the rest of the party played the parts of his bodyguards and other members of his retinue. The idea, he explained, was to have a cover story ready to explain their presence to any evildoers they should encounter ahead. Thus prepared, the party proceeded, Berthold slung over the back of the horse because he had by this time fallen quite ill.
Breaking out of the treeline into the open space of Corman's Landing the party caught sight of the inn, the tollhouse, and the other buildings they remembered. Everything seemed strangely normal, and they could hear the birdsong from the surrounding trees as they approached the Strutting Cock. Entering the inn's courtyard, they headed first for the stables. Finding the stables empty roused their suspicions.
Undaunted, they made for the entrance to the inn. On the way they passed the kitchen window. Looking inside, they saw Heidi Handler and 2 serving girls hard at work. Seigfried approached and by dint of hand signals tried to get Heidi to come out and speak to him. Heidi's only reply was shrugs of incomprehension. In the end, she opened the kitchen window and asked Seigfried what was the matter.
We're here because of Josef's message Siegfried explained. What message Heidi asked. The message he sent asking for our help because he was in trouble explained Siegfried. Heidi patently didn't understand what he was talking about. I think you'd better speak to Josef she said. Realisation began to dawn on the PC's, and Mordrin kicked a stone which narrowly avoided breaking the kitchen window.
The party made their way into the inn. In the bar room they found Josef Haarig, Emmerich Handler and a servant decorating the room for the annual harvest festival. Even as the PC's began to wonder what was going on, Siegfried was struck by the realisation that he'd almost forgotten about Mittherbst, one of the major feast days of his god, Ulric. Meanwhile, Haarig welcomed the party as long-lost friends.
Soon enough, the party began to explain why they were there, only to find that Josef knew nothing at all about the message he was supposed to have sent. He did however grasp that they had travelled all the way back from Middenheim on the strength of a message that he and his inn were in peril. So he sat them down with some food and drink, and proceeded to get the whole story out of them.
Haarig was moved and deeply touched by the PC's story, reminding them that he was already in their debt because Grundi and Alane had saved his inn from the curse of having innocent blood spilt on its grounds. He began to review their tale, and just as he did so, Seigfried and Mordrin jumped to the same conclusion at the same time: somebody had wanted them out of Mordheim. Siegfried cursed the name of Beyer and began vowing bloody vengance.
The conversation continued and the PC's began to realise that there were hidden depths to this garrulous innkeeper as he took all their tales of intrigue in his stride. In the end, he pointed out to them that they had progressed from their adventures around Corman's Landing to serving some of the most powerful people in Middenheim. Haarig noted it was likely that they had made similarly powerful enemies.
The talk also turned to Beyer's companions. Josef told the PC's that they had been working with Captain Kurtz and his roadwardens and with Lars the bounty hunter to help restore law and order after the local soldiery and militias had mustered to march north to help defend the Empire against the Chaos incursions. The innkeeper warned the PC's to be wary of Kaltenbach, the leader of the group, who Josef described as a hard and brutal man.
As the PC's sat trying to absorb what Haarig was telling them, the innkeeper announced that they were his guests, and that they would pay not a single penny for their food and drink, neither that night, nor during the festival tomorrow. Josef went off to get on with his work.
The party sat around in the barroom as it filled up for the evening. The locals were familiar with the PC's and their previous exploits, and Josef made sure that they soon knew all about why the party had returned. The PC's found themselves the centre of friendly curiosity. The locals were agitated by rumours of an impending grain requisition, about which one Theoderic- one of Kurtz's roadwardens, currently on duty at the tollhouse- was particularly exercised. That night though, the PC's stories of heroic adventure gave the local farmers something more diverting to think about
Basking in the glow of the locals' admiration for their exploits, the PC's played up to their reputation as local heroes, and soon forgot their troubles. Except for Berthold, who was too busy being ill upstairs, and Siegfried, who continued to bemoan his wasted 60gc, and to nurse his deepening grudge against Beyer, Kaltenbach, and anyone else he might find had been involved in this pointless diversion.
Mittherbst dawned crisp and clear. Seigfried was still brooding, but Grundi and Mordrin sat down to breakfast with typical dwarfen gusto. As they ate they were approached by a young man in the trailworn garb of a woodsman. He introduced himself as Corvin Liess. Liess explained that he was a Longshanks- a servant of the gods Taal and Rhya, and that he was investigating the disappearance of his mentor and his confessor.
Faced with the incomprehension of the 2 dwarfs, the young Longshanks explained his duties as a guardian of the holy places of the woods. He then explained that his missing companions- a priest of Taal and a fellow Longshanks- had last been seen boarding the missing boat of Ernst the boatman. The young fellow told the PC's that he knew of their own search for Ernst, and asked if they had any information that might help him in his search. The PC's had to confess they knew nothing that might help him.
Corman's Landing was by this time beginning to fill up with local families arriving for the day's festivities. Children ran around shrieking with delight as they took part in the games and other diversions. After a while, something about the decorations struck a chord in the dwarfs' minds- some of them reminded the pair of Reinholt's corn doll. They spoke to Josef, who directed them to Liess.
Hearing what they had to say, Liess reacted with shock. He asked them to explain in detail what they had seen. Had they seen a symbol of a sickle he asked them. Grundi and Mordrin racked their brains, and concluded that they did have a vague memory of a ring that Luthor Machholt had been wearing. The young Longshanks explained that these were the symbols of Ahalt the Drinker, a god of the Old Faith whose followers were the sworn enemies of the followers of Taal and Rhya because their cults had supplanted Ahalt's own.
Liess thanked the 2 dwarfs for their information, and went off to play his part in the day's celebrations. Grundi and Mordrin were left with the impression of a sincere young man a little out of his depth.
The rest of the day passed peacefully as the PC's took full advantage of Josef's generous hospitality and joined in the Mittherbst celebrations with gusto. Except for Siegfreid, who spent the day brooding in his room, before going out that night to conduct private rituals to Ulric to mark his own celebration of Mittherbst.
Related@RD/KA!
From Altdorf to Corman's Landing
- #1 Curiouser and Curiouser
- The GM's confession: again I lament.
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
My little Old World: From Altdorf to Corman's Landing #1
Curiouser and Curiouser
Arriving in Altdorf docks, the party quickly attended to the business of selling off their loot from the pirate attack. As they did so, a cheery voice hailed Master Adelbert as he oversaw the unloading of the Ventura's cargo. A bald-headed middle-aged man arrived on the scene and he and Adelbert were soon in animated conversation. Asking Adelbert how his trip had gone, the newcomer was treated to the full story of the pirate attack, with all the enthusiasm the Master of the Ventura could muster.
Hearing this story, the newcomer- who by now had been introduced as Jost Reichart, the master of the riverbarge Black Swan- looked with renewed interest at the PC's. So you're in the business of guarding riverboats, he asked. The party agreed that this was something that they'd been known to do. So Jost explained that he was another river trader, currently plying a run from Marienberg to Marburg and beyond.
The PC's expressed interest in journeying to Marburg, so Jost offered them the chance to work their passage as guards and general labourers. The party were keen to accept another chance of free passage, but not so pleased at the prospect of having to haul cargo as part of the deal. In the end only Grundi signed up for this deal. The rest of the party negiotiated a 6gc charge in return for not having to work as regular crew, plus 1s for each day's food provided by Jost. Ever conscious of each penny he was spending, Siegfried declined the latter in favour of eating his own trail rations.
And so the party hung around for a couple of hours while Grundi set to work with Audric- a brawny but dimwitted youth- to load up the cargoes Jost was buying from the various petty traders who frequent the Altdorf docks.
Jost Reichart proved to be a talkative man, filled with curiosity. He plied the PC's with questions as to where they were going, and why. He proved particularly intrigued by the sight of 2 dwarfs and a female elf travelling together. These questions were parried in a friendly manner with references to visiting an old friend and the fortunes of the road, and so on. Jost was happy enough to accept this, though he left the PC's with a newfound sense of the unusual spectacle they presented to the world at large.
Kemperbad was the first significant port of call on the trip up the Reik. The journey was uneventful- if cold due to unseasonal snowfalls, but was at least quick thanks to the winds which blew the snow into every nook and cranny aboard the Black Swan. Arriving at Kemperbad Jost explained that he would be trading before setting off again, so the PC's would have to stay in one of the local inns. He recommended the Clifftop Arms situated a conveniently short distance from the edge of town. Seigfreid and Mordrin grumbled at having to pay extra because they couldn't spend the night in the boat as they had been doing, but Jost was insistent that he needed privacy to pursue his dealmaking, so in the end the pair cheered themselves up with jokes at Grundi's expense as the aging dwarf sweated away hauling Jost's cargos.
Several hours later Grundi finished work and joined his companions who were by now settled in the Clifftop Arms. As he sat recovering from his toils the dwarf heard a friendly voice call his name. Expecting to see a member of his family, he looked round to see a prosperous ruddy-faced dwarf approaching. Grundi quickly enough remembered that this was Zamrig Skaninson, who had been a smith cum wheelwright responsible for maintaining coaches Grundi had ridden for a previous employer.
Pleased to meet an old friend, Grundi called for a round of drinks and passed the obvious remark: you didn't get that prosperous mending wheels and shoeing horses. No replied Zamrig, explaining with gusto that he had moved on into gemcutting, a far more lucrative line of work. The drinks having arrived, Zamrig was just about propose the first of what would have undoubtedly been many toasts to gold and its virtues when his manner unexpectedly grew icy cold.
Everyone was momentarily taken aback, and Seigfried was the first to realise what was up. He looked round and, sure enough: there was Alane, heading for the table after a visit to the privy. Siegfried's frantic efforts surreptitiously to divert the elf proved to no avail, and she arrived at her seat just as Zamrig exploded into a rant.
What kind of dwarfs share the company of an elf he demanded angrily. Grundi, Mordrin and the others tried all sorts of explanations: how dwarf and elf had stood together lately against evil at Middenheim; how Alane herself had proved her worth more than once; and so on. Their words were to no avail: Zamrig's tirade simply became more insistent. While Alane stood silently by, the enraged dwarf leapt to his feet, denounced Grundi and Mordrin as elf-lovers once more at the top of his voice, and stormed out of the inn.
A shocked silence reigned throughout the Clifftop Arms. The other patrons were sneaking nervous looks at the party. Some were muttering. Others were shifting in their seats. The landlord realised that there was nothing for it. He announced a round of drinks on the house. The atmosphere of incipient hostility was replaced by expectant calls for this or that drink. A couple of the PC's found themselves wondering if this might not be a neat trick for getting themselves free drinks in future. Meanwhile Grundi noticed Zamrig's tankard sitting on the table. Is anyone drinking this he asked.
The rest of the night in the Clifftop Arms passed quietly, though the PC's remained the centre of a nervous attention and the local steered a discreetly wide berth around their table.
Grundi rose early the next day for work loading the Black Swan, as did Seigfried- though his purpose seemed to have more to do with teasing his companion as he laboured. As the party assembled ready for boarding they saw Jost deep in conversation with 2 men. The conversation ended with all the signs of a deal agreed.
Jost came across and explained to the party that the 2 men had booked passage to Wurtbad. He added that they had booked full board, which would mean some reorganisation of cabins. The pair came forward and a very tall and gangly middle-aged man with a pox-marked face introduced himself as Luthor Machholt- a merchant seeking to trade in the fine Wurtbad port, accompanied by his servant Reinholt. The latter was a young, greasy-haired fellow, with heavy-lidded eyes that seemed to peer moodily out at the world, and a nose-ring.
The nose-ring immediately attracted the PC's attention and raised their suspicions. Grundi commented on how striking it looked, and asked if it had been painful. Reinholt answered these questions with as few words as possible.
Master Jost then instructed Grundi and Audric to take the new passengers' luggage to their cabin (which occasioned more jollity on the part of the other PC's), and the Black Swan set off up the River Stir for Wurtbad.
Once the barge was well on his way, Reinholt appeared and extended an invitation to the PC's to join his master in his cabin to sample a few of his wares. Receiving the nod from Jost, Seigfried, Grundi and Mordrin left Berthold and Alane on watch and repaired to Machholt's cabin.
Luthor Machholt proved to be a genial and chatty host. He offered the PC's drinks from the various samples he had collected in his travels, in which, he explained when asked, he was trying to set up a new venture trading in fine wines and other quality drinks. The dwarfs accepted his offer of a glass of port with a measure of reluctance. Sipping the sweet concoction they found themselves mystified as to why it should be so highly regarded. Fortunately for their palates, Machholt was able to offer them a fine ale instead.
As the conversation continued, the PC's once again found themselves subject to the scrutiny of the curious. Mordrin found himself suggesting that perhaps it was time that dwarfs put aside their traditional emnities against the elves. Machholt seemed mildly amused by this, and commented that he could empathise. After all he said, most of the people I want to deal with already have traditional trading partners, so you could say that I too want to change traditions.
Time passed in this vein for an hour or more: the PC's feeling themselves subject to gentle probing because of how their suspicions had been raised; Machholt being ever the genial host. This atmosphere was broken only by a single, trivial incident. Reinholt was bending over to pick something up while attending to his duties, and a small corn-doll dropped from his blouse to land on the floor.
Seeing Reinholt start at this, the PC's asked what was the matter. A look flashed between Reinholt and Machholt, as of a servant asking permission to speak. Go ahead said Machholt, unperturbed. Reinholt explained that the doll was a keepsake from his sister, which he cherished. This explanation was allowed to pass as sufficient, and the matter rested.
There was little contact between the PC's and the other 2 passengers after this encounter, and the rest of the trip passed in a routine manner. The foggy weather that had marked the departure from Kemperbad cleared after a day or two and crisp autumn weather took its place. The wind didn't favour the barge this time though, and the Black Swan arrived in Wurtbad on the afternoon of Konistag 29th Erntezeit, some 7 days after setting out from Kemperbad.
Related@RD/KA!
From Altdorf to Corman's Landing
- #2 The Plot Thickens
- The GM's confession: again I lament.
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Arriving in Altdorf docks, the party quickly attended to the business of selling off their loot from the pirate attack. As they did so, a cheery voice hailed Master Adelbert as he oversaw the unloading of the Ventura's cargo. A bald-headed middle-aged man arrived on the scene and he and Adelbert were soon in animated conversation. Asking Adelbert how his trip had gone, the newcomer was treated to the full story of the pirate attack, with all the enthusiasm the Master of the Ventura could muster.
Hearing this story, the newcomer- who by now had been introduced as Jost Reichart, the master of the riverbarge Black Swan- looked with renewed interest at the PC's. So you're in the business of guarding riverboats, he asked. The party agreed that this was something that they'd been known to do. So Jost explained that he was another river trader, currently plying a run from Marienberg to Marburg and beyond.
The PC's expressed interest in journeying to Marburg, so Jost offered them the chance to work their passage as guards and general labourers. The party were keen to accept another chance of free passage, but not so pleased at the prospect of having to haul cargo as part of the deal. In the end only Grundi signed up for this deal. The rest of the party negiotiated a 6gc charge in return for not having to work as regular crew, plus 1s for each day's food provided by Jost. Ever conscious of each penny he was spending, Siegfried declined the latter in favour of eating his own trail rations.
And so the party hung around for a couple of hours while Grundi set to work with Audric- a brawny but dimwitted youth- to load up the cargoes Jost was buying from the various petty traders who frequent the Altdorf docks.
Jost Reichart proved to be a talkative man, filled with curiosity. He plied the PC's with questions as to where they were going, and why. He proved particularly intrigued by the sight of 2 dwarfs and a female elf travelling together. These questions were parried in a friendly manner with references to visiting an old friend and the fortunes of the road, and so on. Jost was happy enough to accept this, though he left the PC's with a newfound sense of the unusual spectacle they presented to the world at large.
Kemperbad was the first significant port of call on the trip up the Reik. The journey was uneventful- if cold due to unseasonal snowfalls, but was at least quick thanks to the winds which blew the snow into every nook and cranny aboard the Black Swan. Arriving at Kemperbad Jost explained that he would be trading before setting off again, so the PC's would have to stay in one of the local inns. He recommended the Clifftop Arms situated a conveniently short distance from the edge of town. Seigfreid and Mordrin grumbled at having to pay extra because they couldn't spend the night in the boat as they had been doing, but Jost was insistent that he needed privacy to pursue his dealmaking, so in the end the pair cheered themselves up with jokes at Grundi's expense as the aging dwarf sweated away hauling Jost's cargos.
Several hours later Grundi finished work and joined his companions who were by now settled in the Clifftop Arms. As he sat recovering from his toils the dwarf heard a friendly voice call his name. Expecting to see a member of his family, he looked round to see a prosperous ruddy-faced dwarf approaching. Grundi quickly enough remembered that this was Zamrig Skaninson, who had been a smith cum wheelwright responsible for maintaining coaches Grundi had ridden for a previous employer.
Pleased to meet an old friend, Grundi called for a round of drinks and passed the obvious remark: you didn't get that prosperous mending wheels and shoeing horses. No replied Zamrig, explaining with gusto that he had moved on into gemcutting, a far more lucrative line of work. The drinks having arrived, Zamrig was just about propose the first of what would have undoubtedly been many toasts to gold and its virtues when his manner unexpectedly grew icy cold.
Everyone was momentarily taken aback, and Seigfried was the first to realise what was up. He looked round and, sure enough: there was Alane, heading for the table after a visit to the privy. Siegfried's frantic efforts surreptitiously to divert the elf proved to no avail, and she arrived at her seat just as Zamrig exploded into a rant.
What kind of dwarfs share the company of an elf he demanded angrily. Grundi, Mordrin and the others tried all sorts of explanations: how dwarf and elf had stood together lately against evil at Middenheim; how Alane herself had proved her worth more than once; and so on. Their words were to no avail: Zamrig's tirade simply became more insistent. While Alane stood silently by, the enraged dwarf leapt to his feet, denounced Grundi and Mordrin as elf-lovers once more at the top of his voice, and stormed out of the inn.
A shocked silence reigned throughout the Clifftop Arms. The other patrons were sneaking nervous looks at the party. Some were muttering. Others were shifting in their seats. The landlord realised that there was nothing for it. He announced a round of drinks on the house. The atmosphere of incipient hostility was replaced by expectant calls for this or that drink. A couple of the PC's found themselves wondering if this might not be a neat trick for getting themselves free drinks in future. Meanwhile Grundi noticed Zamrig's tankard sitting on the table. Is anyone drinking this he asked.
The rest of the night in the Clifftop Arms passed quietly, though the PC's remained the centre of a nervous attention and the local steered a discreetly wide berth around their table.
Grundi rose early the next day for work loading the Black Swan, as did Seigfried- though his purpose seemed to have more to do with teasing his companion as he laboured. As the party assembled ready for boarding they saw Jost deep in conversation with 2 men. The conversation ended with all the signs of a deal agreed.
Jost came across and explained to the party that the 2 men had booked passage to Wurtbad. He added that they had booked full board, which would mean some reorganisation of cabins. The pair came forward and a very tall and gangly middle-aged man with a pox-marked face introduced himself as Luthor Machholt- a merchant seeking to trade in the fine Wurtbad port, accompanied by his servant Reinholt. The latter was a young, greasy-haired fellow, with heavy-lidded eyes that seemed to peer moodily out at the world, and a nose-ring.
The nose-ring immediately attracted the PC's attention and raised their suspicions. Grundi commented on how striking it looked, and asked if it had been painful. Reinholt answered these questions with as few words as possible.
Master Jost then instructed Grundi and Audric to take the new passengers' luggage to their cabin (which occasioned more jollity on the part of the other PC's), and the Black Swan set off up the River Stir for Wurtbad.
Once the barge was well on his way, Reinholt appeared and extended an invitation to the PC's to join his master in his cabin to sample a few of his wares. Receiving the nod from Jost, Seigfried, Grundi and Mordrin left Berthold and Alane on watch and repaired to Machholt's cabin.
Luthor Machholt proved to be a genial and chatty host. He offered the PC's drinks from the various samples he had collected in his travels, in which, he explained when asked, he was trying to set up a new venture trading in fine wines and other quality drinks. The dwarfs accepted his offer of a glass of port with a measure of reluctance. Sipping the sweet concoction they found themselves mystified as to why it should be so highly regarded. Fortunately for their palates, Machholt was able to offer them a fine ale instead.
As the conversation continued, the PC's once again found themselves subject to the scrutiny of the curious. Mordrin found himself suggesting that perhaps it was time that dwarfs put aside their traditional emnities against the elves. Machholt seemed mildly amused by this, and commented that he could empathise. After all he said, most of the people I want to deal with already have traditional trading partners, so you could say that I too want to change traditions.
Time passed in this vein for an hour or more: the PC's feeling themselves subject to gentle probing because of how their suspicions had been raised; Machholt being ever the genial host. This atmosphere was broken only by a single, trivial incident. Reinholt was bending over to pick something up while attending to his duties, and a small corn-doll dropped from his blouse to land on the floor.
Seeing Reinholt start at this, the PC's asked what was the matter. A look flashed between Reinholt and Machholt, as of a servant asking permission to speak. Go ahead said Machholt, unperturbed. Reinholt explained that the doll was a keepsake from his sister, which he cherished. This explanation was allowed to pass as sufficient, and the matter rested.
There was little contact between the PC's and the other 2 passengers after this encounter, and the rest of the trip passed in a routine manner. The foggy weather that had marked the departure from Kemperbad cleared after a day or two and crisp autumn weather took its place. The wind didn't favour the barge this time though, and the Black Swan arrived in Wurtbad on the afternoon of Konistag 29th Erntezeit, some 7 days after setting out from Kemperbad.
Related@RD/KA!
From Altdorf to Corman's Landing
- #2 The Plot Thickens
- The GM's confession: again I lament.
- Index:- My little Old World: Ashes of Middenheim
Friday, December 02, 2005
DiceConEast 2005
Other highlights
DiceConEast is staged in a place on Princes Street called Overseas House, which is a clubhouse of the Royal Overseas League. This is a kind of friendly society of the British Commonwealth, and Overseas House's air of quietly down-at-heel gentility is apt to and evocative of this relic of Empire. DiceCon's event room is on the 2nd floor. The lift is an ancient device that fits only 2 people- with barely enough room for bags full of games, and which almost makes you think that it is steampowered, if not manually hauled! Upstairs you wend your way through corridors giving the impression that the whole place is a veritable warren.
There is a bar situated beside a white linen service restaurant. This is one of my favourite rooms. Well surprise, surprise I hear you say, but the bar's real delight is that it looks right out across Princes Street, giving you a view of Princes Street Gardens, the Castle, and the Old Town. This is quite simply one of the most spectacular city centre views there is, and a very pleasant prospect to enjoy while you sit there supping a pint.
All in all then, Overseas House is exactly the sort of place from which pulp adventurers might set out on their heroic travels, or to which they might return to reflect upon the weird and wonderful sights they witnessed, and the horrors against which they prevailed. In short: it is a bit of a feast for the roleplaying imagination, which just adds to its peculiar anachronistic charm.
So, after the M44 tournament was over, we were casting around for something else to play. As ever at DiceCon there was a veritable feast of games available to choose from, courtesy largely of Ellis and Gordon's remarkable collections. The emphasis is typically more on the modern Eurogame genre, but there is always something there that you won't have seen or tried before. Lots and lots in fact.
I had a look at the recent Avalon Hill release Nexus Ops. I've had a look at this on the website
and tried out the online demo. I came away with the impression that it was a Settlers type game, set in space, and with combat. The set available at the con was brand new, but it seemed to be missing its rulebook, so I had to pass on playing it, although a brief rummage through the box certainly confirmed my interest in the game.
In the end then, 4 of us settled for a game of Settlers. Hardly novel, except that it was the 10th anniversary deluxe 3D edition we were playing, which incorporates the Cities and Knights expansion. This comes with moulded ceramic region tiles, 3D moulded plastic playing pieces, knights with lances with little flags, and so on- all with hand-painted detail. There are even little sheep on the grassland regions! You can find some pictures here, and here. It has to be said that it did take a bit of time to adapt my senses to the lush pieces (and I did spare a thought for the poor souls who'd've had to paint them- hardly lucrative employ I'll imagine), but I have to report that they did nothing for my game: Badger won, which he found most gratifying, since it was his first ever win at Settlers.
After this we rounded off the day with a few games of Ivanhoe- the results of which escape me, before leaving for the drive back to Glasgow. The evening was getting on at this point, so the games room had quietened down a bit from its buzzing peak, but there were still quite a few committed gamers left determined to play on for as long as possible.
And that was DiceConEast 2005- here so soon and gone before you know it. Thanks as ever to Ellis and Gordon for all their efforts in running DiceCon. Roll on DiceConWest 2006! ;)
DiceConEast is staged in a place on Princes Street called Overseas House, which is a clubhouse of the Royal Overseas League. This is a kind of friendly society of the British Commonwealth, and Overseas House's air of quietly down-at-heel gentility is apt to and evocative of this relic of Empire. DiceCon's event room is on the 2nd floor. The lift is an ancient device that fits only 2 people- with barely enough room for bags full of games, and which almost makes you think that it is steampowered, if not manually hauled! Upstairs you wend your way through corridors giving the impression that the whole place is a veritable warren.
There is a bar situated beside a white linen service restaurant. This is one of my favourite rooms. Well surprise, surprise I hear you say, but the bar's real delight is that it looks right out across Princes Street, giving you a view of Princes Street Gardens, the Castle, and the Old Town. This is quite simply one of the most spectacular city centre views there is, and a very pleasant prospect to enjoy while you sit there supping a pint.
All in all then, Overseas House is exactly the sort of place from which pulp adventurers might set out on their heroic travels, or to which they might return to reflect upon the weird and wonderful sights they witnessed, and the horrors against which they prevailed. In short: it is a bit of a feast for the roleplaying imagination, which just adds to its peculiar anachronistic charm.
So, after the M44 tournament was over, we were casting around for something else to play. As ever at DiceCon there was a veritable feast of games available to choose from, courtesy largely of Ellis and Gordon's remarkable collections. The emphasis is typically more on the modern Eurogame genre, but there is always something there that you won't have seen or tried before. Lots and lots in fact.
I had a look at the recent Avalon Hill release Nexus Ops. I've had a look at this on the website
and tried out the online demo. I came away with the impression that it was a Settlers type game, set in space, and with combat. The set available at the con was brand new, but it seemed to be missing its rulebook, so I had to pass on playing it, although a brief rummage through the box certainly confirmed my interest in the game.
In the end then, 4 of us settled for a game of Settlers. Hardly novel, except that it was the 10th anniversary deluxe 3D edition we were playing, which incorporates the Cities and Knights expansion. This comes with moulded ceramic region tiles, 3D moulded plastic playing pieces, knights with lances with little flags, and so on- all with hand-painted detail. There are even little sheep on the grassland regions! You can find some pictures here, and here. It has to be said that it did take a bit of time to adapt my senses to the lush pieces (and I did spare a thought for the poor souls who'd've had to paint them- hardly lucrative employ I'll imagine), but I have to report that they did nothing for my game: Badger won, which he found most gratifying, since it was his first ever win at Settlers.
After this we rounded off the day with a few games of Ivanhoe- the results of which escape me, before leaving for the drive back to Glasgow. The evening was getting on at this point, so the games room had quietened down a bit from its buzzing peak, but there were still quite a few committed gamers left determined to play on for as long as possible.
And that was DiceConEast 2005- here so soon and gone before you know it. Thanks as ever to Ellis and Gordon for all their efforts in running DiceCon. Roll on DiceConWest 2006! ;)
Thursday, December 01, 2005
DiceConEast 2005
Memoir'44 TournamentSo the 2nd DiceConEast passed on Sunday 20th. Donald drove Antony, Badger and myself through for the day, which required a hideously early start! As I said earlier, I was planning to run a Memoir'44 tournament because I think this is a great game ideal for convention play. My original plan had been just to GM this in the hope of getting a chance to play some ASL or Up Front, but things turned out differently on the day.
Anyhoo, after a tour of the centre of Edinburgh in search of parking, and a visit to McDonalds for breakfast, I set to getting the event going. First off there were some interested people who'd never played before, so introductory games were organised. Meanwhile I had to rustle up players and finalise the details of the format. In the end there were 5 other willing players, so I joined in to make 6, which just happens to be the number required for the official M44 tournament format that I'd downloaded from the Days of Wonder site.
The main issue in M44 tournament play is balance- the game's scenarios are unbalanced by design. One approach to this would be matchplay- playing each scenario back-to-back from each side. This would solve the balance problem, but with the disadvantage of reducing the number of scenarios played, or lengthening the playing time of the tournament. The WBC pack takes the approach of splitting the players into 2 sides- Axis and Allied. Each player then plays the 3 players on the other side across 3 different scenarios, competing to see who is the best Axis player and the best Allied player over the 3 games. These 2 then matchplay a 4th scenario to decide the final winner.
With the format decided then, Badger, Sean and myself became the Axis generals with the task of stemming the Allied tide led by Donald, John Evans, and Mike.We fought our way through the following scenarios:
#1: Pegasus Bridge- British glider troops attempt a coup de main to grab bridges securing exits from the D-Day landing beaches.
#4: Point du Hoc- US rangers scale cliffs to neutralise German artillery batteries on D-Day.
#9: Operation Luttich- the panzers strike to prevent the US army from breaking out of the Normandy bridgehead.
Each scenario was a 4-medal game.
The scoring system for this tournament format is based on victory medals gained instead of simply on wins, with medals and/or figures lost as tiebreakers. This means that even a losing game should contribute to a player's overall score for the qualifying games; whereas a close and costly win could well lose a player their place in the final. The merits of this were seen in the final round. My last game finished first. Checking out the standings and taking a quick look at the remaining 2 games, I noticed that every single one of us still had a chance of making it to the final. I thought this was pretty impressive. It certainly made for some tense moments as we gathered around to await the outcome of the last game to finish.
In the end Badger won out on the Axis side with a total of 10 medals from 2 wins and a loss. Sean was pipped by Badger, losing out by a mere 1 medal after John Evans rolled over his German defence at Pegasus Bridge. With that medal in hand, Sean would've won out on the figures lost tiebreaker. We all thought that this was an impressive performance from someone who'd only played their first game that morning. I trailed a sad 3rd with 8 medals- a performance that included the day's only duck, when my Germans had failed to take even a single medal off of Mike's lads at Pegasus Bridge. Ouch!
John Evans led the Allied camp with 11 medals- another 2 wins and a loss. Mike was 2nd with 9 medals. Donald came 3rd with 8.
John and Badger contested the final over #2: Sainte Mere-Eglise- US paras land to secure the right flank of the beachhead. John played the Allies first, and promptly got in a perfect drop- this scenario starts with the Allied player dropping 4 figures onto the board to determine the number and location of his airlanding reinforcements! John's airlanding reinforcements landed without loss and perfectly surrounding Badger's exposed unit holding St. Mere-Eglise. The result was a swift walkover. Badger was unable to win so decisively as the Allied player, and the day went to John.
The overall standings then were:
1. John Evans
2. Badger
3. Mike
4. Sean
5. Me
6. Donald
Ellis and Gordon of the Scottish Boardgames Assocation pulled out the stops when it came to prize support: all 6 competitors received a prize, donated by Esdevium Games. This was very cool.
So I can happily report that the DiceConEast 2005 Memoir'44 tournament was a great success. Everyone who took part enjoyed themselves. Several people commented on how good the tournament structure was, and I have to agree. Looking over the tournament scoresheet as I wrote this, I could see how every single medal won by each player in all of their games was important. The value of this in a tournament should be self-evident. This tournament structure therefore only enhances the benefits of the supreme playability of M44- itself evidenced by the excellent showing made by the players new to the game on the day. The format can easily be adapted for more players too, without extending the 4 hours it took to run the event (5 if you count the tutorial games).
With this experience under my belt then, I am looking forward to running future events for so long as people want to play in them.
Finally, I would like to conclude with the traditional votes of thanks. First: to Ellis and Gordon of the SBGA, for laying on the venue, and the prize support. Second: to Esdevium Games for providing the prizes on offer. And third: to the participants, for making the event such a success. My thanks to one and all. ;)
Anyhoo, after a tour of the centre of Edinburgh in search of parking, and a visit to McDonalds for breakfast, I set to getting the event going. First off there were some interested people who'd never played before, so introductory games were organised. Meanwhile I had to rustle up players and finalise the details of the format. In the end there were 5 other willing players, so I joined in to make 6, which just happens to be the number required for the official M44 tournament format that I'd downloaded from the Days of Wonder site.
The main issue in M44 tournament play is balance- the game's scenarios are unbalanced by design. One approach to this would be matchplay- playing each scenario back-to-back from each side. This would solve the balance problem, but with the disadvantage of reducing the number of scenarios played, or lengthening the playing time of the tournament. The WBC pack takes the approach of splitting the players into 2 sides- Axis and Allied. Each player then plays the 3 players on the other side across 3 different scenarios, competing to see who is the best Axis player and the best Allied player over the 3 games. These 2 then matchplay a 4th scenario to decide the final winner.
With the format decided then, Badger, Sean and myself became the Axis generals with the task of stemming the Allied tide led by Donald, John Evans, and Mike.We fought our way through the following scenarios:
#1: Pegasus Bridge- British glider troops attempt a coup de main to grab bridges securing exits from the D-Day landing beaches.
#4: Point du Hoc- US rangers scale cliffs to neutralise German artillery batteries on D-Day.
#9: Operation Luttich- the panzers strike to prevent the US army from breaking out of the Normandy bridgehead.
Each scenario was a 4-medal game.
The scoring system for this tournament format is based on victory medals gained instead of simply on wins, with medals and/or figures lost as tiebreakers. This means that even a losing game should contribute to a player's overall score for the qualifying games; whereas a close and costly win could well lose a player their place in the final. The merits of this were seen in the final round. My last game finished first. Checking out the standings and taking a quick look at the remaining 2 games, I noticed that every single one of us still had a chance of making it to the final. I thought this was pretty impressive. It certainly made for some tense moments as we gathered around to await the outcome of the last game to finish.
In the end Badger won out on the Axis side with a total of 10 medals from 2 wins and a loss. Sean was pipped by Badger, losing out by a mere 1 medal after John Evans rolled over his German defence at Pegasus Bridge. With that medal in hand, Sean would've won out on the figures lost tiebreaker. We all thought that this was an impressive performance from someone who'd only played their first game that morning. I trailed a sad 3rd with 8 medals- a performance that included the day's only duck, when my Germans had failed to take even a single medal off of Mike's lads at Pegasus Bridge. Ouch!
John Evans led the Allied camp with 11 medals- another 2 wins and a loss. Mike was 2nd with 9 medals. Donald came 3rd with 8.
John and Badger contested the final over #2: Sainte Mere-Eglise- US paras land to secure the right flank of the beachhead. John played the Allies first, and promptly got in a perfect drop- this scenario starts with the Allied player dropping 4 figures onto the board to determine the number and location of his airlanding reinforcements! John's airlanding reinforcements landed without loss and perfectly surrounding Badger's exposed unit holding St. Mere-Eglise. The result was a swift walkover. Badger was unable to win so decisively as the Allied player, and the day went to John.
The overall standings then were:
1. John Evans
2. Badger
3. Mike
4. Sean
5. Me
6. Donald
Ellis and Gordon of the Scottish Boardgames Assocation pulled out the stops when it came to prize support: all 6 competitors received a prize, donated by Esdevium Games. This was very cool.
So I can happily report that the DiceConEast 2005 Memoir'44 tournament was a great success. Everyone who took part enjoyed themselves. Several people commented on how good the tournament structure was, and I have to agree. Looking over the tournament scoresheet as I wrote this, I could see how every single medal won by each player in all of their games was important. The value of this in a tournament should be self-evident. This tournament structure therefore only enhances the benefits of the supreme playability of M44- itself evidenced by the excellent showing made by the players new to the game on the day. The format can easily be adapted for more players too, without extending the 4 hours it took to run the event (5 if you count the tutorial games).
With this experience under my belt then, I am looking forward to running future events for so long as people want to play in them.
Finally, I would like to conclude with the traditional votes of thanks. First: to Ellis and Gordon of the SBGA, for laying on the venue, and the prize support. Second: to Esdevium Games for providing the prizes on offer. And third: to the participants, for making the event such a success. My thanks to one and all. ;)
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