Monday, July 27, 2015

50 Shades of Vampire: the Cult Leader

As I prepare for a vampire game, I find myself with cornucopia of character ideas. Here is one of the rejects. Hopefully you find it useful.

Since the game in question will be an Elders game using Vampire: the Requiem 2nd Edition and the Primacy rules from Damnation City, I'll be posting stats as a starting PC Agent, a 25 XP Rank Elder and a 75 XP Mover and Shaker.

This week I have a character based on an Vampire: the Masquerade character I briefly played. His plans to make peace with his Beast are a little less crazy in the new World of Darkness.

The Cult Leader

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The screams started 2 hours after dusk. Though muffled by the insulation of the newly painted Landyacht Airfloat camper, the hoarse yelling drifted over the dusty field of campers and RVs of Empyrean Gardens until past midnight.

The inhabitants of what was once Kings Villages knew then it was safe to approach. Two, a thin plain woman and a tired eyed teen, entered bearing a bundle of clothes and a large pitcher.

At 12:20 AM, a handsome young man emerged from the trailer. His loose shirt billowed in the cool desert breeze. A device, like a cylinder suspended in a frame, hung upon a copper chain around his neck.

Stepping down from his camper, Sariel breathed in the night air. A loose crowd of his followers had gathered to greet his rising.

"Greetings my children," he said passing through them slowly. "I bring tidings from the farther shores."

He placed a hand on a woman's bare and sun savaged shoulder. "Nancy, Thomas continues to perform well in his duties. His dedication brings some redemption to his progenitors. See me soon."

Her nervous eyes flashed to the young man even now emerging from the camper. Sariel continued on, praising those who served him well and dispensing dark glances to those out of favor.

A tall awkward man came up beside him. The pair walked to the sole permanent structure in the compound. Sariel's companion's long and dark hair made him appear older, perhaps as old as he truly was. He leaned in and said, "There's been some 'citement in town, your eminence."

Sariel continued in his slow measured pace but a certain tension climbed up his body and through his back. "Gary, walk with me."

They passed through the crowd and into the old offices of King's Villages. Sand and grit had snuck under the door and decorated the floor of the musty office. Sariel settled into a rotten executive chair behind the desk, leaving Gary to choose between a cracked plastic chair or a piece of lawn furniture. He chose the lawn chair.

Sariel leaned back. "Now tell me the day's news and how you think it might affect the Lord's work."

History

Sariel (a.k.a. Suriel, Surial, and Jakob White) enjoys recounting his part in the American Spiritualism movement but that was already well over by the time he was born. A child of the Great Depression, he was not a British aristocrat, an East Coast Old Money, an heir to an ancient tradition, or any of the other nonsense he spouts. His origins began in dismal but mundane surroundings. His mother drank herself into an early grave after putting him up for adoption. His father remains a blank page. He spent his childhood in and out of foster homes, youth detention centers, and jail.

What truth lies in his stories is that during his stints in prison, he studied. Turning his mind to the darker and stranger parts of the world, he researched spiritualist movements, magical orders, Scientology, and more obscure groups. Somehow he found in his work some kernel of the truth, a truth that put him in the path of a vampire.

His sire hoped for a potential research assistant and a way into the criminal underworld. Jakob disappointed him. A mere petty criminal, he had no connections worth exploiting. Jakob's history with the occult put him at odds with his mentor's preconceptions. Jakob saw humanity as a weakness and bought into psychological quackery as a solution to the problems of the Damned.

He left his sire's company as soon as he could, travelling the backroads and highways of the West Coast throughout the 1960s. Along the way he built up a cult, recruiting from the weak and broken of the Hippie Movement. In addition to the usual conditioning tricks, he also flavored their drugs with his blood. Now decades later, he and his followers have settled down in a dusty town in the Southwest. They've occupied a trailer park, making all within part of the cult. Some, like his lieutenant Gary, have been with him since the beginning. Others are new "recruits", bound by blood and supernatural conditioning. And many are descendants of the original followers, having his tainted vitae in their systems for generations.

Description

Sariel pairs his boyish good looks with simple loose clothing, typically of a stark white or black to match his hair. His strong hands and firm handshake fit his easy smile and low gentle voice, a depiction marred only by a subtle uneasiness about him, a strange pallor and the unblinking gaze of his pale blue eyes. A copper chain hangs about his neck holding some pendant or locket hidden beneath his billowing shirt.

Stats: Agent

As an agent for a more powerful elder, he's a loose cannon, more focused on his own work than serving others. He's also prone to frenzy as he tries to approach his "inner Beast".

Concept: Psychonaut Cult Leader
Birth: 1931             Embrace: 1956
Clan: Ventrue         Covenant: Ordo Dracul
Mask: Cult Leader  Dirge: Visionary

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 2
Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, Composure 2

Mental Skills: Academics 3, Investigation 2, Occult (cults) 4, Politics 1, Science (psychology) 1
Physical Skills: Brawl 2, Drive 1, Survival 1
Social Skills: Empathy 1, Expression 1, Intimidation 2, Persuasion (charming) 2, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Herd 2, Retainer (Gary) 2, Resources 1

Blood Potency: 2
Disciplines: Dominate 2, Mystery of the Wyrm (Coil 1)
Touchstone: Gary (Retainer)

Stats: Rank Elder

As a power in his own right, he's a bit more interesting. Perhaps he could be a very distracted mentor or source for unusual lore.

Concept: Psychonaut Cult Leader
Birth: 1931             Embrace: 1956
Clan: Ventrue         Covenant: Ordo Dracul
Mask: Cult Leader  Dirge: Visionary

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, Composure 2
Mental Skills: Academics 3, Investigation 2, Occult (cults) 4, Politics 1, Science (psychology) 1
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Drive 1, Survival 1
Social Skills: Empathy (hypnosis) 2, Expression 1, Intimidation 2, Persuasion (charming) 2, Subterfuge 1
Merits: Allies (cult) 3, Herd 3, Retainer (Gary) 3, Resources 2
Blood Potency: 2
Disciplines: Dominate 3, Mystery of the Wyrm (Coil 2)
Touchstone: Gary (Retainer)

Spent XP: 25

Stats: Mover and Shaker

Here we have someone dangerous and powerful, someone who is also on the path to self-destruction. He will destroy what he has built up. It's only a question of when.

Concept: Psychonaut Cult Leader
Birth: 1931              Embrace: 1956
Clan: Ventrue          Covenant: Ordo Dracul
Mask: Cult Leader   Dirge: Visionary

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 3[4], Dexterity 3, Stamina 2[3]
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, Composure 3
Mental Skills: Academics 3, Investigation 2, Occult (cults) 4, Politics 1, Science (psychology) 1
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Drive 1, Survival 2
Social Skills: Empathy (hypnosis) 3, Expression 1, Intimidation 3, Persuasion (charming) 3, Subterfuge (seeming normal) 2
Merits: Herd 5 (free via Secret Society Junkie), Status (cult) 5, Retainer (Gary) 3, Resources 2, Riding the Wave 4, Secret Society Junkie 1
Blood Potency: 4
Disciplines: Dominate 3, Mystery of the Wyrm (Coil 4), Resilience 1, Vigor 1
Touchstone: Gary (Retainer)

Spent XP: 75

Friday, July 24, 2015

The Climbers Recap: Betrayal, Part II

creepersbanner
And now for deadly session 13, a joke that became oddly prescient by the end of the session. We begin by learning A.T. has been knocked out of commission due to the landmine that hit the Armored Personnel Carrier. All of our PCs are at the Music Bowl except Gator who remains in a drug induced coma, “dreaming” of the past (and also a bit late to the game). Cougar’s siege has been lifted, the giantess captured, and the Music Bowl forces have returned from freeing Taters. Now we are left to wonder who will realize that Gator’s crew robbed the Militia first, the PCs or the Militia.

As in my earlier actual play reports, small green text indicates out of character talk, mechanics and other game aspects outside of the fiction.

Our main characters are:
  • Gator (the Gunlugger) is an assassin and part-time bodyguard who wears customized scrounged armor made from Kevlar and ceramic inserts. Camouflaged for the jungle, his face was ruined in a fight with an alligator. His eyes are always sizing things up and his brutal life has left his body a hard sheet of muscle. He runs a a gang of mercenaries and is recovering from being blown up.
  • Jarhead (the Savvyhead) is a thin African-American man with a short goatee, long dreads, and clothes covered in pockets and gear. Travelling around in an old news van, he repairs items for a living. He is investigating a device that can bend space and time. He has also obtained employees in the form of a young woman Allison and her brother Waters as well as a little girl named Memo.
  • November Orleans (the Skinner) is descended from a family which left New Orleans before it sank. She is a beautiful woman of mixed heritage with dark eyes and skin, a sweet face and lush body. She dresses herself in a mix of scavenged clothing that somehow works together and wears a necklace made from rows of antique coins which jingle and shine as she moves. Her main profession is as a dancer, especially belly dancing, but she has a sideline business in cooking and animal training. Oh and now she works for the "gods".
  • Violet Jefferson (the Touchstone) is descended by survivalists and her clothing and gear reflects her origins. Plain looking but fit, she carries a pocket copy of the Federalist papers and founding documents of the United States of America, an idea she hopes to revive. Her followers are demanding her help to liberate Miami from a tyrant.

Betrayal, Part II

A few minutes later Violet arrives at scene of utter chaos. Cultist swarm the smoke-filled chambers, searching for escaping prisoners. Violet focuses on the shattered wall.

Violet reads a sitch and gets a 10.

”What should I be on the lookout for?” she asks.

”There are too many cultists here trying to catch White’s men. Other places are undefended.”

”Who is in control here?”

”Whoever set the bombs that blew out the wall.”

”What’s my enemy’s true position?”


Her keen eyes spot grenade pins scattered several yards away. Violet picks one up, noticing a translucent thread hanging from it. This was set off remotely, she thinks scanning the too thickly crowded halls. It was a distraction.

Violet follows the thread back to one of the entrances to the lower levels. She quickly dons a mask and heads down after the culprit.

This is a little out-of-order in how we played it but fits the in-game chronological order better.

Once deep in the tunnels Violet lets her eyes search the darkness, allowing her mind to touch the psychic maelstrom and the truth that lies beyond it.

Violet opens her brain and gets an 11. Since she rolls hard she marks experience and advances. She chooses to advance All of her basic moves.

I ask her, “once you achieve victory, do you intend to let anyone to run for office? Or are some people ineligible?”

We discuss the possibility and she falls somewhat on the side of limiting it to citizens of Miami. Ultimately however it will come out of the constitution the citizens create.


Under the glow of the sparse lighting she makes out shallow footprints, perhaps of teen or woman. She also feels a static in the air, a charge as if someone or something is interfering with her. Whoever the culprit is, they are working for something far older, far hungrier. Minds that belong to the enemy!

Since she knows her enemy.

The flickering tube of light barely illuminates the shallow grooves in the chamber’s dirt floor. November calms her mind and sharpens her knives. She glances down the hall.

Something looms in the dark. Flicker.

Cougar stands beneath the lamp, a meaty hand wrapped around a shower head. Bits of tile hang loosely from one end. The titan’s visage remains hidden beneath a mask of bone and steel.

November lets her approach, then leans in for a kiss once she enters the circle. “Hold still baby,” she says softly.

November uses a hold from Hypnotize to keep Cougar from attacking.

November’s knife slices up and out quickly. As Cougar gurgles, her thick blood spills into the channels on the floor.

November deals 3-harm (2-harm for the knives +1 for being merciless). Cougar though has 4-health and survives for now.

Violet meanwhile acts under fire to find “the bomber” and gets a 12! Since it is advanced, I let her slip in unseen. She marks experience.


As the giantess slides to her knees, Violet slips up to the entrance of the chamber, unseen by all. As Cougar’s bulk descends, the survivalist recognizes November’s face in the inconstant light. The beautiful woman chants some strange foreign tongue as she readies her blade for a second strike.

Actually it is in French but Gator comments, “you don’t know French and you remember something about America hating France.”

Violet debates warning November to stop but chooses to fire first. “I know my enemy, I know what’s out there and I know why she is doing this,” she declares.

Someone suggests that she shoot to maim.

”She would not appreciate that,” Jarhead comments.

”I don’t appreciate her killing my source of info,” Violet says. “I know what she can do and I know what she’s done. I shoot to kill. She’s betrayed us.”


Violet stands horrified at what her friend has become, a tool for what lurks in the maelstrom. She takes a deep breath, brings up her rifle, and fires.

I choose to have her roll seize by force, November rolls to hinder and gets a hard hit. The -2 reduces Violet’s 13 (!) to an 11. She chooses to inflict terrible harm, take definite hold, and suffer little harm. She also marks experience.

Violet deals 2-harm + 1 for terrible harm -2 for November’s armor (recently acquired by the playbook change and poorly described). Also she knocks the dancer’s knife away.

November uses her 3-harm ap shotgun adds 1 for merciless and subtracts 1 for little harm. So Violet takes 3 harm from a return blast to the face. She goes from 6 o’clock to 11 o’clock!

November stipulates, “I don’t know who shot me, I just reacted.”

I feel like perhaps I might have let Violet have a free shot (likely for no or little harm) instead. Or an option to bypass November’s armor. Or perhaps I did not give her a strong enough definite hold. Oh well.

We then do a harm move for both characters. November misses her roll and is fine. Violet gets a hard hit. I choose to knock her out. For her own good.


The blast clips November sending her stumbling back. One numb hand lets go of her knife, while the other instinctively grabs her shotgun and returns fire. In the roar of gunfire, Cougar shakes off her trance and scrambles for the exit. A weak hand grabs for the giant’s heel before November shouts, ““Freeze Cougar!”

The fluorescent flickers, revealing Violet’s unconscious form lying beside the giant. The blast tore a hole in her friend’s face, narrowingly avoiding her left eye. Violet pants and quivers unconsciously.

November rolls servant of the gods but fails.

”If I survive I think I’ll find I have more in common with the Militia than I thought,” Violet comments darkly.

”You might not be surviving this,” November says.


November offers up a quick prayer to the gods. “Please guide me, my masters.”

A cold chill runs down her back as the voices whisper, “finish what you started, leave the other one here.”

November pulls the knife across Cougar’s throat. She twitches and collapses, her blood channeled into an elaborate pattern in the ground.

As the dancer tidies up, she takes a long look at Violet. She pulls the tall woman’s body to the center of the circle. November puts the bloody knife in Violet’s hand and traces a strange pattern across her face.

She considers the bullet wound. November finds a rock and covers it in blood. She drops it between Cougar and Violet. It is a weak story but it will do.

Finally, the dancer sneaks back to surface, using the sewers to emerge outside the arena. An hour of walking later and she mingles with the crowds of the Music Bowl. Quietly she hopes her smile hides her guilt from the crowd and the gods. They, at least, must be pleased.

Now we jump to Jarhead.

Jarhead blinks.

A blurry Allison appears overhead. “You are awake. How much is two plus two?”

He blinks again and sits up. "I have no time for inane questions."

The fair-haired woman protests, “I need to make sure you haven’t suffered any damage to your head. Other than the hole. Can you still do math?”

Jarhead sighs. "Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight, five times four is twenty. Lets go!"

She gets in front of him as he shifts off the bed. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” he says curtly.

“Okay, I guess he’s okay.” Allison turns to her brother. “What do you think Waters?”

“He seems alright,” the short boy says.

“Good.” Allison turns back to Jarhead. “The nurse, the creepy one, said they were going to bring A.T. in here in a moment.” Jarhead nods. “Waters has a bed ready for him.”

“The one with the straps, right?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Okay perfect. I trained you well. How long have I been out?”

“An hour,” she says with a slight smile.

“That’s all? Is everything else setup?”

“We have the IV ready and the monitor,” Water says quickly.

“What about the box?” Jarhead asks.

“We put that in the place,” he says furrowing his brow.

“Good. No more talking about it.”

Allison speaks up. “I still haven’t seen Memo.”

“Wasn’t she in the van?” the inventor asks.

“No and I had Waters look for her everywhere.”

“Where is Memo?” he mutters. “Where is Violet?”

The young woman explains, “there was a jail break and some of White’s people got away. Violet went that way. I haven’t seen her since.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” he says.

The doors burst open as A.T. is wheeled in. Jarhead takes a close look at his wounds, propping open his eyes and checking the readings on the monitor.

I explain it will take several days to stabilize him and even then he will not be in good shape.

“This guys a lot worse than I thought,” Jarhead says. He glances around for someone in charge, settling on Mox. “Can I put in any upgrades or is this the standard model?”

“Just make him better,” the huge soldier says. As Jarhead laughs, he clarifies, “get him healthy again.”

“Oh healthy,” the tinkerer says disappointedly. “Waters go look for Memo. Allison go help as well. I’ll take care of this.”

Down in the infested mushroom farms, Violet rolls weird for luck. She gets a 6 and though she doesn’t know it (for sure) has contracted the climbers.

She does say however, “I’m probably going to get the spots and put a bullet into my own head.”

Then we time skip.


The next few days pass quickly. Jarhead busies himself saving A.T.’s life while November engages in a search for the missing Violet. The cult is able to capture most of White’s men. but people begin to question what happened to the missing revolutionary.

November finds Violet’s revolutionaries one hot afternoon arguing about what to do without her.

“But where the hell is Violet?” AOL asks for the hundredth time. “Did she go off by herself again without telling anyone?”

“When was the last time anyone saw her?” November asks interrupting Boo’s grumbling retort.

“We haven’t seen her in a few days,” Lily says. “Last we saw her, she went to talk to Jarhead.”

Starbuck adds, “Garber says he saw her talking to the nurses and Mox. Nobody has seen her since.”

November rolls read a person and gets a 10. she marks experience.

“What are you planning to do?” the dancer asks.

Boo gets to his feet. “We’ve got to track her down.”

AOL glares at him. “But we’ve searched all around the Music Bowl, she’s not there! I think she must have gone hunting.”

“Maybe she went to the Autodoc?” November suggests. “She left Gator there and she wants to move on White soon.”

“That makes sense,” Boo says, looking away from AOL. “Garber and I will drive over there and check it out.”

“Are you sure you only want to send a few of you?” she asks.

In other words, how could I get all of you to go?

Sadly for her the answer is: “You’d have to get them all to agree which is very very hard at this point.” I address Violet: “judgemental works in your favor.”

November rephrases her question. How could I get more to go?


“But what about Joshua?” Lily asks. “He’s still weak.”

“I’m not sure it makes sense to all stay in one place,” Starbuck adds, stroking his dog. “White’s had a lot of time to plan a counter attack.”

“But she may need all our help,” Boo says.

November interjects before tempers rise again. “Perhaps just someone who could report back if Boo and Garber are needed there.”

AOL drops her angry tone and tells them, “I’ll radio you guys when we get there.”

Boo grumbles a bit but soon the three ride off in his yellow truck.

Elsewhere Gator become aware of a bright light above him. A voice mumbles to his left. He pushes open an eye, sleepily but without pain.

“What did you give me,” he slurs.

“We gave him to much yesterday,” a nurse in blue says to someone on his right.

Gator twists his head. Krin stands there, glancing out the doorway. He turns back, “Oh good you are up. We tried to revive you earlier but after your freakout yesterday Job gave you too much sedative.”

“Why am I up?” the mercenary mumbles.

“You asked us to wake you up if something happened,” Krin reminds him. “If there was trouble.”

“What’s going on?”

Krin chews his lip. “The Militia is here.”

“Fuck,” he says sluggishly as he pushes himself up.

“They are not particularly happy.” Krin glares at Gator. “Your guys all bugged out. I don’t know where they are. We got word that A.T. got banged up at the Music Bowl. There was an attack there and it didn’t go well for them. Anyway what you need to know is that the Militia don’t know yet that you are here but they’ve been asking around for you and your gang.”

“They are not a gang,” Gator corrects as he pulls his legs off the bed.

“Your mercenary buddies, whatever,” Krin says. “They are looking for payback.”

“Who is leading them?” he asks, shaking the cobwebs from his mind.

“This girl, Fire. She’s their Lieutenant.” Krin adds, “she been a little bit rough with us.”

“How many do they got?”

“Here? Right now about a couple dozen guys.”

“That’s not so bad,” Gator says standing steadily. “So they’ve been rough on you?”

“Barnum had some sort of deal but he’s not around so we don’t know what we really owe,” he explains looking into the hall again. “They’ve been taking advantage of us.”

“Where’s Barnum?”

“He’s missing. The machines dragged him off and we haven’t seen him since. We don’t know if he is alive, dead or worse.”

Gator grabs his gear. “I can disappear or I can help you out here and fight them.”

“We are not fighters. I don’t think we can afford your help,” Krin says sourly. “Not money-wise but in collateral damage.”

Gator buckles on his armor and turns to Krin ready. “I might be able to talk them out of here but I’d rather talk to A.T.”

“He’s back at the Music Bowl,” Job says. “Jarhead’s working on him.”

Gator glances back. “That’s not good. He’s probably dead.”

“Well Millions wanted to clear out as quick as she could. Or he could,” the nurse says. “Maybe you should just disappear. It would be easier.”

After considering who else to talk to, he decides to escape.

“I’ll get out then and see if I can’t get them off your back.”

“Thanks,” Krin says. “Try to head out the East Wing, they haven’t been hanging out there.”

“Will do.”

Krin looks out the hall a final time and waves the mercenary outside.

Gator rolls acting under fire and gets a 9. He marks experience and advances. He raises his Cool.

Gator slips through long white halls like a ghost. He halts at the final corner before the doors to East Wing. A pair of men chat idly. He recognizes one voice, the youth from Stumpland, Hammer. The other is a mystery. The pair seems absorbed in their conversation, oblivious to any threat. He hears November’s name and settles down into a crouch to learn more.

“When was the last time you saw her?” the stranger asks.

“She was at my home town Stumpland before I joined up,” Hammer says.

“Stumpland? You know where she went from there?” the older man says.

“Can’t help you, I left before they got back from a trip,” he says idly. “They went to the coast I think. I don’t know if they came back or just left.”

“I’ve been looking for her,” the other man says. “I’ve got a message.”

Gator decides to use his oldest and never used move Fuck This Shit to escape. He rolls and gets a 11.

Bored with the talk, Gator paces to a nearby room, looking for a wall more drywall than cinderblock. With a crash, he punches through into the East Wing. Before anyone can do anything, he escapes the hospital and enters the ruins of Miami.

With the hot Florida sun overhead, Gator creeps through the tumbled bricks and steel that was the city’s business district. A church steeple leans drunkenly overhead.

“Psst, this way,” a voice says, “over here.”

Gator spies Road crouched in the shadow of the church. He approaches.

“Hey boss,” the junior mercenary says. “Morgana has taken most of our guys a half mile west of here.”

Gator eyes the pale warrior. “Why do you think they would have shown up?”

“I don’t know,” Road says innocently. “Maybe they wanted to check why the Autodoc was okay. I don’t know what their deal is.”

“They were looking for me and the company,’ Gator says flatly.

Road looks down. “Oh. I thought Morgana told you about that?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He sighs. “That’s why Morgana left me here.”

Gator holds up two fingers. “So Road that’s two strikes.”

“Is it three strikes I’m out?” he says with a faltering smile.

Gator sighs. “See we don’t really give two strikes. So the question is what are you going to do to fix this?”

“Um. I don’t know boss. What do you need?”

“We got to think about this. Let’s head to Morgana.”

Road nods. “Okay this way.”

The younger mercenary leads Gator through the ruin to the rest of the gang. Just over a dozen hardened men and women camp in what looks like an impassable ruin from the outside.

Morgana waves off the snipers. “You found Road. Good.”

“Yeah, why don’t you tell everybody to get ready to get moving?”

She nods and barks a few orders. As the crowd quickly break camp, she turns to the scarred warrior. “So boss what’s our next move? It seems like we should make ourselves scarce around here.”

“Yes, the Militia is looking for us.” He adds, “A.T. is down for the count.”

She buckles her pack and cinches it across her back. “We heard.”

“I think they are a little rogue anyway,” Gator says. “I think we need to find someone with a clear head. Let’s go see if Jarhead killed A.T.”

She makes sure her weapons are secure and surveys the mercenaries. “Alright guys let’s go to the Music Bowl, quick but quiet. We don’t know if there is trouble there.”

The crew musters out, Wire scouting ahead for any trouble.

Gator stays close to his lieutenant. “Morgana, we need to do something about Road.”

She shrugs. “What do you want to do about him? Do we get one more use out of him or cut him loose?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to cut him loose at this point. I think he could be of use though.”

“Yeah there’s always bombs to be placed and patsies to be made,” she jokes.

“Or amends to be made.”

She nods. “Yeah. If they are fine with one that’s good by me. It wasn’t us that was after that crate. Let’s get going.”

We also establish his mask is working and isn’t damaged from the explosion earlier. Though I suppose I could have siphoned barter from him...

I also hint there is still excitement to come.

But first we find out what happened to Violet.

We discuss the possibilities of taking a disability to recover. She decides to take disfigured so drops her Hot from 0 to -1 as the gunshot leaves a nasty scar on her face and in her ability to trust others.


Violet feels the pain first. A painful throbbing and the thick of buzz of pumping blood help to distract from the stabbing horror that is the left side of her face.

I’ve been shot.

Her fingers claw reflexively into the soft earth. She blindly drops chunks of cold dirt from her right hand and reaches up to her face. Numb fingers encounter sticky blood and something that feels more like raw meat than flesh.

She pulls back in pain and fear.

Long moments pass.

A flickering light illuminates something nearby. She tries to open her left eye but it resists.

Eventually she decides to get up. Slowly she pushes up from the wet ground, Her gas mask or what is left of it, falls from her face in pieces. Violet tries to shake her head clear and instantly regrets it. After a few shaky minutes a painful fog falls back over her.

She shifts her gaze to her left. The massive body of Cougar lies face down in the earth. congealed blood traces an elaborate pattern on the chamber’s floor surrounding Violet. The giant’s bone and steel mask lies a few feet away.

”You could take it and become Faceless,” I tell her.

How did I get here? She recalls confronting someone. They shot me in the head. A blast of emotional betrayal stabs through her painful fog.

Violet looks down, seeing a knife still clutched in her left hand. She drops it. Then she remembers the spores.

The fluorescent light stops flickering for a minute. In the cold light, she sees the mushroom filled logs, now covered in climber stalks and spore grains.

I can’t go back.

Violet stumbles through the tunnels until she finds the sewer entrance. The survivalist then clambers through the soaked ruin for a long hour until she reaches the surface, protecting her face as best she can.

The Florida sun blazes over the Music Bowl to the west. Violet continues forward, away from the arena and whoever it was betrayed her. She finds a pool of water and washes the blood from her face and body.

Finally she lets the water become still and looks into the reflection. The blast shredded half of her face, shattering her cheekbone and barely missed her left eye.

And I have the climbers, she thinks. She gets up and looks north. I have a few days at least, maybe even a few weeks. More than enough time to get to the Autodoc.

Finale time.

Hours later as she mounts a hill of tumbled bricks, a bright streak flies from the southeast. The object flies over Violet before beginning to tumble. The device, a cylinder spewing fire, turns end over end before crashing to earth a half mile from the Music Bowl in a mighty explosion.

The original exchange from Gator was, ”A rocket?”

”A rocket,” I reply, “a tomahawk, like they might have on a nuclear powered aircraft carrier.”

”That’s not good,” Gator says. “He needs to die quicker.”


From the arena lip, the inhabitants watch in horror as a city block turns to fire and ash. Elsewhere Gator watches it fall with dread. White needs to die quicker.

End of Session

Time for Hx! First we need to cover Hx for dealing damage to another PC. November gains +1 from Violet and Violet gains +3 from November. Both reset and mark experience. We decide not to do an exchange of secrets in this case given the circumstances. We now know Violet will shoot to kill and November is beautiful and deadly.

Normal Hx improvements are less exciting.
  • Jarhead gives +1 Hx to Violet.
”I showed you something I haven’t shown anyone else,” he says.

I comment, “I tried to steer November towards you.”

She says, “He’s like: I’m glad that didn’t work out.”

  • Violet grants +1 Hx to Jarhead.
  • Gator we leave blank.
  • November inflicts -1 Hx on Violet

”Because if she did know me, she would have talked to me,” November says, voicing her own feeling of betrayal.

Finally we end with a Hard roll for Violet (for my custom move for the climbers). She gets a hard hit and exhibits no symptoms so far. I also mark down the success as she might be able to shake it off. She also marks experience.

Violet is left contemplating her next move. She might change her playbook (I suggest Faceless). She says she is thinking something more like Scholar (to “retire” to teach).

Jarhead changes his last advance from Cassandra Complex to Deep Brain Scan since he sees himself using it more. I point out he needs to build himself a violation glove. Jarhead brings up the electronic nervous system he salvaged.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Gaming With Baby: Gearing up for GenCon 2015!

Has it been three months? Time for another Gaming with Baby report. And GenCon 2015!

Vacation Time

gen-con-logo
Next week we take our first vacation without my son. With GenCon being much earlier than normal, my wife (a school teacher) can finally attend again. It has been several years since that has worked out.

I seem to have lucked into almost every game I registered for (though my wife had a much different experience which I'll discuss in two weeks). Lots of indie games to explore and some classics to try. Urban Shadows, Trail of Cthulhu, Spark, Time Watch, Night's Black Agents and something called Headspace. Expect an update after the convention ends with impressions and reviews.

While I've been looking forward to this for some time, the con will be a bit bittersweet. My friends from back home, who do the podcast for No Ordinary Obsession, had been attending for the past few years. But not this year (and perhaps the next few). Since GenCon tends to fall on the start of school, my wife will probably be unable to go for a long while. I don't expect to attend a convention with the others for quite some time.

At least I'll be able to attend more local (and cheaper) cons. I'll talk more about that this autumn.

We got a preview of how to handle Sebastian when we had to attend a wedding without him in May. It worked out well that time. My in-laws will be taking care of him using stockpiled milk. It helps that he's slowly being weaned and eating a lot more solids. Still I expect to be a bit nervous about how he is doing throughout the convention.

Settling In

Our House
I had so many plans when we moved into our new house. Everything would be organized and displayed. We'd commission a gaming table and have morning tea in the sun room every weekend.

Instead we found our insurance cancelled for mysterious reasons (they gave reasons but no one, including other insurance companies, understood why that would lead to a cancellation), had the upstairs bathroom become mostly unusable, got a sick cat, got fleas, and I still don't have a comfy chair for myself in the sun room.

It hasn't all been bad. The yard looks good. Our flowers and ferns are surviving the drought. Someday when the temperature drops out of the 100s and 90s maybe I'll even be able to enjoy it. Inside most things are where they need to be with only a half-dozen boxes to unpack, mostly my wife's. Plus once she starts working full-time this fall we should have money to spare for the remaining home improvements.

Sebastian's birthday added to the toy sprawl but it remains fairly contained. He's begun to unshelve books but hasn't been too hard on them yet. I arranged it so it is mostly romance novels and D&D 3rd edition books to be in reach. Nothing valuable in other words.

Baby Update

riding a purple cow
My son is very small. Very very small. He's under the 1st percentile for size and weight. We always get asked if he was born premature (he wasn't). He also (perhaps because of the size issue) failed to meet a lot of gross motor milestones on time.

When he was 10 months, he wasn't crawling. Even by 11 months he couldn't pull himself up on things. The doctors worried and referred us to physical therapists. They evaluated him, gave us some hints and recommended some treatment. Meanwhile we engaged in our own crash course of forceful tummy time.

He's made a lot of progress in a short time. After a few weeks of forced tummy time, he remembered how to roll over, worked out scooting backwards then forwards, and became much more mobile. Since the beginning of June (when he had his first physical therapist visit), he's begun pulling himself on his own, climbing stairs, clambering over legs and into laps. He's working on cruising along furniture, standing unassisted and walking with help. I expect him to start walking on his own any day now.

So a bit of scare that he's fallen behind but now it looks like he's going to be right on track or even ahead of the curve.

Gaming Update

Lack of sleep continues to be an issue as does getting Sebastian to sleep before the game (or for the online group, mid session). For awhile we could get him to sleep at 7 but he would wake up several times until 9. We are moving his bed time to later. We'll see how that works out.

The Online Game (The Climbers & String Theory)

NBA-Cover
Teething has hit this game hard. I get to hear it twice (since I transcribe the recordings for our actual play). Keeping my son occupied in a major challenge and has made keeping up tension difficult.

The other difficulty is the continuing gaps between game sessions due to life and the month of weddings among our friends (I thought June was supposed to be prime wedding time).

We fixed that issue however by starting a backup game. I started GMing a game of Night's Black Agents for the players who could attend. We've been working our way through the introductory adventure and veering way off course. The gang is currently in Beirut, hiding from werewolves and trying to figure out if they want to track down the Serbian mob, double-crossing Anton, or the mystery woman who killed their contact.

The Climbers is nearing the end. White is dead(ish). The gods are in the crosshairs. Most of the drama now lies between the players themselves. The Skinner/Battlebabe and the Touchstone/Scholar still need to talk about how they shot each other. The Touchstone also needs to adjust her plans now that the Gunlugger turned Hardholder has undone her vision of a democratic Miami. Our Savvyhead is just hiding the fact that he might be resurrecting White. He has his reasons.

Games at Our House (board games and RPGs)

dungeon world
The Fate game I mentioned last time went well. Our imperialist British merchants dealt with the rakshasa problem in 17th century India despite some infighting. I felt blowing up the enemy was more important than the survival of "the help". Others felt differently.

My wife just began an interesting Dungeon World game. We've set it in a blasted wasteland inhabited by dwindling numbers of dinosaurs, halfling aboriginals, atheistic elves, and humans who believe that the meteor was sent by their god. Oh and hyper evolved saurians who probably are more advanced than any of us. Currently we are questing to learn the truth of a halfling artifact (made from metal!) and then to track down the fallen star that forged this land.

I continue to plan a social heavy game for this group. Probably it will be a version of the Trail of Cthulhu game I'm planning for next DunDraCon.

Another Game!? Vampire Elders Play By Post

I have a final game in the works. Mike (a.k.a. salientmind) is running a game of influential vampires in NYC in Vampire: the Requiem 2nd edition. Using the Primacy rules from Damnation city, we are feuding over who controls what parts of the city and perhaps vying for the title of Prince (once we remove him from power first).

I'm pretty excited and have been working overtime on my character. This at least shouldn't suffer as much from cranky babies.

Monday, July 20, 2015

50 Shades of Vampire: the Whisperer

As I prepare for a vampire game, I find myself with cornucopia of character ideas. Here is one of the rejects. Hopefully you find it useful.

Since the game in question will be an Elders game using Vampire: the Requiem 2nd Edition and the Primacy rules from Damnation City, I'll be posting stats as a starting PC Agent, a 25 XP Rank Elder and a 75 XP Mover and Shaker.

This week we have something like the Pretender, a wallflower who pretends to be nobody so she can get close to the secrets of others.

The Whisperer

alley
Marija slows her faltering step as she reaches the corner.

The sodium lamp paints the alleyway a sickly yellow. The smell of waste water marks the Rat-King 's domain. A pair of dumpsters, four back doors, one on the left, three on the right, and the asphalt paved space between them. The interloper adjusts her torn denim jacket.

A pair of men step out of the back of the all-night taqueria for a smoke. The rounder one jokes crudely about the mess he left for the new guy. Marija slips behind the nearer dumpster.

The thinner man, tall but with the awkwardness of youth, produces a cigarette lighter. Marija's eyes narrow as he lights one and then two cheap cigarettes.

"Hefty" she dubs the other one. He strokes his pathetic goatee and discusses a soccer game. Marija edges around the dumpster as they talk, just out of sight. Her watery blue eyes trace the pattern the smoke makes in the air. Her pale fingers twitch nervously.

Marija squeezes her eyes, forcing the jitters down. The snarling thirst remains distant compared to the cravings of flesh long dead.

"Hefty" and "Slim" joke and smoke. "Hefty" leaves first, answering a shout from inside. While "Slim" finishes his cigarette, Marija moves.

Soundlessly she glides up behind the youth. She bites down on his neck with a pair of tiny fangs. The kiss takes care of the rest. The blood tastes sweet with a hint of euphoria. Marija's twitches vanish as she savors the blood, drawing it as slowly as she dares.

Lightly, lightly. He has hours still to work. Foster wouldn't be happy if someone died here. It would be awkward.

Marija lets him go, disappearing in the moment between euphoria and recovery. Hopefully the Rat-King won't notice. And maybe someone would like to know he's expanded above ground.

Description

whisperer
Most people don't give Marija a second glance, even if they recognize her as one of the Damned. Her threadbare second-hand clothes and her downcast look match her lowly status.

When they do catch her watery eyes, it's often just before she asks another favor.

Most snicker behind her back. Some use her as a messenger or agent. None trust her to come through. They often forget to keep quiet however. The unseen see much.

Background

Marija was supposed to be one of the Damned. She'd drifted into the social scene of a coterie of Daeva, just another rebellious teen moving in the punk scene. They passed their new blood doll around for a few months until one of them got a little too rough.

Marija ended up dead. But she didn't stay that way. Instead she rose as a Revenant.

She struggled through her first few months of undeath. Begging for blood, trading favors just for a place to crash for the night, trying to understand the strange world she'd fallen into.

A Mehket Carthian took pity on her and elevated her to full Kindred status, something she's never forgotten. She joined his covenant and works hard to expand their influence throughout the city.

However the reputation from her early days continues to follow her. It doesn't help that she has a habit of owing people favors and crashing at their sanctums. Nobody expects much from her but they do find her handy. They use her as a courier, a spy, or another body to bulk up their retinue. Meanwhile she watches and listens.

Stats: Agent

The Whisperer makes for a useful tool for a more powerful vampire. Well connected, tied into the newest members of the Damned, and with a fragility that distracts one from her true motives. But make no mistake, she is not a simpleton or pushover. There is steel within her, jagged metal that will hurt all who would hurt her.

Concept: Vicious Little Bird
Birth: 1970 Embrace: 1988
Clan: Mehket Covenant: Carthian
Mask: Follower Dirge: Monster

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Resolve 2
Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 3, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Investigation (puzzles) 2, Politics 2
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 1, Drive 2, Firearms 1, Larceny 2, Stealth (silent) 3
Social Skills: Empathy 1, Socialize 2, Streetwise (rumors) 2, Subterfuge 2

Merits: Carthian Pull 1, Contacts (Neonates, Social Services) 2, Parkour 2, Resources 1, Safe Place 1, Sympathetic 2, Status (Carthians) 1

Blood Potency: 1
Disciplines: Auspex 1, Celerity 1, Obfuscate 1

Stats: Rank Elder

With more power comes greater ambition. No longer scrambling for her next meal, she works the local social network, collecting and disseminating rumors. Some she spreads for favors, others for the benefit of her clan or covenant, while the remainder are used to tear down those she feels need to suffer.

Concept: Gutter Harpy
Birth: 1970        Embrace: 1988
Clan: Mehket     Covenant: Carthian
Mask: Follower  Dirge: Monster

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2 [3], Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 3, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Investigation 2, Politics 2
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 1, Drive 2, Firearms 1, Larceny 3, Stealth (silent) 3
Social Skills: Empathy 2, Socialize (spreading rumors) 3, Streetwise (rumors) 2, Subterfuge 2

Merits: Carthian Pull 1, Contacts (Neonates, Social Services) 2, Parkour 2, Resources 1, Safe Place 1, Sympathetic 2, Status (Carthians) 3, Status (Mehket) 1

Blood Potency: 1
Disciplines: Auspex 2, Celerity 2, Obfuscate 2, Vigor 1

XP Spent: 25

Stats: Mover and Shaker

The little bird grew to be a carrion crow, spreading her wings to envelope the city. Her words reach all within the city, stirring discontent in the young and undermining the current Prince. The revolution is coming.

Concept: Carthian Whisper Campaign
Birth: 1970            Embrace: 1988
Clan: Mehket         Covenant: Carthian
Mask: Conspirator Dirge: Monster

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2 [3], Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 3, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Investigation 2, Occult 1, Politics 2
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 2, Drive 2, Firearms 1, Larceny 3, Stealth (silent) 3
Social Skills: Empathy 2, Expression (propaganda) 2, Persuasion 2, Socialize (spreading rumors) 3, Streetwise (rumors) 2, Subterfuge 2

Merits: Allies (Carthians) 2, Allies (Neonates) 5, Allies (Petty Criminals) 2, Cacophony Savvy 3, Carthian Pull 1, Contacts (Neonates, Social Services) 2, I Know a Guy 1, Parkour 2, Resources 1, Safe Place 1, Sympathetic 2, Status (Carthians) 3, Status (City) 1, Status (Mehket) 1

Blood Potency: 2
Disciplines: Auspex 2, Celerity 2, Dominate 3, Obfuscate 4, Vigor 1

XP Spent: 75

Monday, July 13, 2015

50 Shades of Vampire: Raven Woman

As I prepare for a vampire game, I find myself with cornucopia of character ideas. Here is one of the rejects. Hopefully you find it useful.

Since the game in question is an Elders game using Vampire: the Requiem 2nd Edition and the Primacy rules from Damnation City, I'll be posting stats as a starting PC Agent, a 25 XP Rank Elder and a 75 XP Mover and Shaker.

This week we have a homeless lady with claims to greatness.

Raven Woman

birds

Description

Your eyes almost slide off of her. Just another vagrant woman feeding the birds with more dirt than dye in her tangled hair, clutching a garbage bag with one arm while the other tosses treats to the pigeons and crows that crowd thickly around her.

Very thickly. Those treats look more like drops of blood, leaking thickly from a slashed wrist.

Perhaps you move to help or just to check that she's not dying. She looks up at you, her complexion the color of coffee and cream gone sour. Dozens of cold black eyes join her gaze.

Seems the birds like meat as much as blood.

Background

There are several rumors of who the Raven Woman is.

The first and most common says that she's revenant, a mortal who was unintentionally raised as one of the Damned or suffered a botched Embrace. Just one of the many homeless that survive in the shadows of the city, she was killed by a Kindred who had fallen to its Beast. But she doesn't stay dead. She rises as something like the Damned but weaker, hungrier, and a potential breach of the Masquerade. Some suspect the culprit was a Savage, others a Haunt. A few whisper that she might be the product of a Lord and tend to point to one of the more degenerate members of the Ventrue clan.

A variant on this story says that an ambitious ancilla (the specific one changes with each telling) elevated her to use as a pawn in his power struggles. When his plans were squashed she was left orphaned.

A second less common rumor states she's a nomad who ambushed by local Kindred several decades ago. The long torpor left her damaged and her memories incomplete. Supporters of this theory point out her exceptional skills over the blood for a mere revenant. Some have tried to recruit her into their covenant or coterie but have been rebuffed, sometimes violently.

The least accepted theory comes from a Gangrel neonate who claimed to extract a broken narrative from the woman herself. She said that the Raven Woman was born in the city over a century ago, perhaps in small town destroyed to make way for the city park. Embraced sometime in the late 19th century, she worked under the Prince of that era until he was overthrown. History and the word of the Elders claim that the Prince and his supporters suffered Final Death for their crimes. But the Raven Woman survived her savage beating and century long torpor.

The neonate claims she awoke with little knowledge of who and what she was. The current head of the Invictus took a particular interest in her story. The Gangrel was last seen in his presence.

Stats: Agent

This version of the Raven Woman really is just a crazy vagrant, though one with useful skills and allies.

Concept: Uplifted Revenant
Birth: 1946     Embrace: 2007
Clan: Ventrue Covenant: None
Mask: Spy      Dirge: Survivor

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2 [3]
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 2

Mental Skills: Investigation 3, Occult 1
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Larceny 2, Stealth (unobtrusive) 2, Survival (urban) 2
Social Skills: Animal Ken (birds) 3, Intimidation 1, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Acute Senses 1, Allies (homeless) 2, Anonymity 2, Contacts (homeless) 1, Haven 1, Safe Place 3

Blood Potency: 1
Disciplines: Animalism 2, Resilience 1

Stats: Rank Elder

Here Raven Woman is what she claims, an elder vampire well over a century old. Sadly she's spent most of that time buried in an unmarked grave. Worse, the beating she suffered before hand has damaged her memory and skills.

Concept: Broken Elder
Birth: 1846        Embrace: 1867
Clan: Ventrue    Covenant: None
Mask: Spy         Dirge: Survivor

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2 [3], Dexterity 3, Stamina 2 [3]
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 2

Mental Skills: Investigation 3, Occult 1, Politics 1
Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 3, Larceny 2, Stealth (unobtrusive) 2, Survival (urban) 2
Social Skills: Animal Ken (birds) 3, Intimidation 1, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Acute Senses 1, Allies (homeless) 2, Anonymity 2, Contacts (homeless) 1, Haven 1, Safe Place 3

Blood Potency: 1
Disciplines: Auspex 1, Animalism 4, Dominate 2, Obfuscate 1, Resilience 1, Vigor 1

Spent XP: 25

Stats: Mover and Shaker

In this case the Raven Woman isn't telling the whole story. She did spend time in torpor and the experience did damage her memories. But not her skills. Instead she's compiling dossiers on those in power then and now, tracking down who hurt her and planning a rather painful revenge.

Concept: Shattered but Deadly
Birth: 1846     Embrace: 1867
Clan: Ventrue Covenant: None
Mask: Spy       Dirge: Monster

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2 [3], Dexterity 3, Stamina 2 [3]
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Investigation 3, Occult 1, Politics 1
Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 3, Larceny 2, Stealth 2, Survival (urban) 2
Social Skills: Animal Ken (birds) 3, Intimidation (crazy) 3, Streetwise 4, Subterfuge (misdirection) 2

Merits: Acute Senses 1, Allies (homeless) 2, Anonymity 2, Contacts (homeless) 1, Haven 1, Riding the Wave 5, Safe Place 3

Blood Potency: 3
Disciplines: Auspex 1, Animalism 4, Celerity 2, Dominate 2, Obfuscate 1, Resilience 2, Vigor 2
Devotions: Subsume the Lesser Beast

Spent XP: 75

Friday, July 10, 2015

The Climbers Recap: Betrayal

creepersbanner
And now for deadly session 13, a joke that became oddly prescient by the end of the session. We begin by learning A.T. has been knocked out of commission due to the landmine that hit the Armored Personnel Carrier. All of our PCs are at the Music Bowl except Gator who remains in a drug induced coma, “dreaming” of the past (and also a bit late to the game). Cougar’s siege has been lifted, the giantess captured, and the Music Bowl forces have returned from freeing Taters. Now we are left to wonder who will realize that Gator’s crew robbed the Militia first, the PCs or the Militia.

As in my earlier actual play reports, small green text indicates out of character talk, mechanics and other game aspects outside of the fiction.

Our main characters are:
  • Gator (the Gunlugger) is an assassin and part-time bodyguard who wears customized scrounged armor made from Kevlar and ceramic inserts. Camouflaged for the jungle, his face was ruined in a fight with an alligator. His eyes are always sizing things up and his brutal life has left his body a hard sheet of muscle. He runs a a gang of mercenaries and is recovering from being blown up.
  • Jarhead (the Savvyhead) is a thin African-American man with a short goatee, long dreads, and clothes covered in pockets and gear. Travelling around in an old news van, he repairs items for a living. He is investigating a device that can bend space and time. He has also obtained employees in the form of a young woman Allison and her brother Waters as well as a little girl named Memo.
  • November Orleans (the Skinner) is descended from a family which left New Orleans before it sank. She is a beautiful woman of mixed heritage with dark eyes and skin, a sweet face and lush body. She dresses herself in a mix of scavenged clothing that somehow works together and wears a necklace made from rows of antique coins which jingle and shine as she moves. Her main profession is as a dancer, especially belly dancing, but she has a sideline business in cooking and animal training. Oh and now she works for the "gods".
  • Violet Jefferson (the Touchstone) is descended by survivalists and her clothing and gear reflects her origins. Plain looking but fit, she carries a pocket copy of the Federalist papers and founding documents of the United States of America, an idea she hopes to revive. Her followers are demanding her help to liberate Miami from a tyrant.

Start of Session

We begin by highlighting:
  • Jarhead gets Hot (from November) and Weird highlighted.
  • November highlights Hot (from Violet) and Sharp.
  • Violet gets Cool (from November) and Hard.
”I’m sure you’ll need to roll Hard,” I tell her. “There’s lots of trouble to deal with.”

My infant son then babbles away. We joke that he’s playing the hardholder (in other words White).

”Is that how much trouble I’m in Sebastian?” Violet asks.

As I whisper to him what trouble is coming, November says, “Sebastian says let them all burn!”

”The MC will refrain from making further comments,” I say, looking at my notes.

  • Finally Gator highlights Sharp (from November) and Cool once he arrives.
Violet rolls Fortunes and gets a 7. She chooses for them to be in want +judgemental.

”We’ve got to strike while the iron is hot!” November says.

”At least they are not deserting,” Violet says.

”I kinda hope that guy was deserting. You know who I’m talking about.”

Betrayal

We begin with Jarhead.

Jarhead pokes around the truck as the cultists whoop for joy. He winces with each cry.

“Hey the war is over!” One shouts.

“We dealt with half of White’s gang,” Brin says. “There’s no way he can strike now.”

Jubilant, the white-robed men and women wander away, leaving the tinker and his assistants alone in the foundry with a half-finished armored truck. Jarhead sighs looking at the work left to do.

I point out he could buy slaves to speed up the work.

”You feel better about yourself when people give you slaves,” November says.


He wanders to the medical equipment. Fuse breathes slowly and quietly. “He’s going to need another week,” Jarhead says.

The tinkerer grabs a mirror and checks out his own wounds. The pain in his head doesn’t seem to be going away. Who can I trust with some brain surgery, he thinks.

Jarhead is at 3-harm. To bring that down to 2-harm with his workshop (so he can heal naturally), he needs someone with first aid expertise and it will expose himself to (mental) danger. The harm that pushed him over edge was psychic.

I suggest Violet.

I also tell Gator to heal down to 1-harm as he joins us.

Next we jump to Violet.


Violet stalks through the tunnels beneath the Music Bowl. The roar of the foundry grows louder and louder. As she passes a crowd of priests, her mind jumps to the trouble with the Militia. A.T. lying in a coma, tended by a few under-equipped nurses. No one clear on who should be giving the orders. Too many guns in too many itchy fingers.

She spies the one man with the medical expertise and tools to save A.T.

Jarhead turns to find her behind him. “Oh.”

“Hello,” she says. “Are you were aware of what happened to A.T.?”

“Who?” he says, a throbbing pain stabbing at his eye.

“The leader of the Militia.”

Jarhead rubs his eye. “No I don’t know.”

“His vehicle got hit by a mine during the battle,” she explains.

“Is he okay?” he asks absently.

Violet frowns. “I was hoping you could help with that since you have a medbay.”

“Oh I thought you wanted me to fix the car.” Jarhead stammers, “I mean yeah. Wait! Do you have first aid experience?”

Violet raises an eyebrow. “Enough to get by.”

“Interesting. Are you squeamish? Do you faint at the sight of blood?”

“No,” she says.

”Good job being weird,” November adds.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says leaning in. “And A.T. is hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I mean bad for him. So here’s the thing, I’ve got these holes in my body and I don’t like them there. How about I help you fix A.T., which is a weird name when you think about it, and you help me with these wounds?”

As Jarhead points to the bruises on his head and body, Violet notes a blood stain from one of his ears. “I help fix you and you help fix him?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

Violet looks the quirky man closely. “Alright I think you got a deal.”

“Cool.”

Violet leaves to tell the Militia while Jarhead gets his equipment ready.

We cut to November.

November runs over last night’s dream. The ritual bleeding, the prayer to the gods, the blood sinking into the earth. If I empower them and they will help me.

November rolls read a person for her dream since the “gods” are sort of people. She gets a 10. She marks experience and advances. She raises her sharp.

”What do they intend to do (with this power)?” she asks.

I look over their front for a goal.

”Are they telling the truth (about giving power)?”

Yes.

”How could I get the gods to reveal more of their true selves to me?”

”You can build trust by working with them.”


She recalls images of blood stained pyramids, sacrifices to grease gears of universe. These “gods” seek power for its own sake. They are honest but ravenous. The only way they will trust me is if I work with them. She shivers.

That means killing Cougar, she thinks as she passes by the makeshift prison. Six guards stand ready at the entrance to one of the gym shower rooms. One way in and out. And Violet will question her in only a few hours. I need a distraction.

We cut to Gator’s dreams.

Gator shifts in his sleep as someone calls his name.

“Gator.”

The voice is faint but familiar. Smells of the swamp and alcohol waft through the mists of his mind.

“Gator.”

Gator looks through the murky swamp. A tall thin figure stands at the edge of his vision. Faint beams of sunlight glint off one of the man’s eyes.

“You’re dead,” he tells Gunge.

“I know,” the figure replies.

“What’s it like to be dead?” the weary mercenary calls out.

“It’s not what I expected,” Gunge says. With each syllable, he grows closer and louder until he stands next to his old friend.

Gator reads a charged sitch since he is talking to a dead man in his dreams. He gets a 12 which means he can ask any three questions (Gator has Read a sitch advanced). He also gains experience.

”Is it really Gunge? Is he dangerous to me?”


Gator looks at his old friend. Somehow he knows he is dreaming but that Gunge isn’t a dream. Even so he sees wisps of the swamp leaking through Gunge’s form. His friend seems hollow, empty, a phantom he could sweep away with one arm.

“It is you,” Gator says slowly.

“It is good to see you again,” Gunge says scratching his dirty hair.

“Sorry about the climbers,” Gator says before adding, “You’re an idiot. I told you not to leave.”

Gunge shrugs.

“We could’ve gotten you to the Autodoc,” Gator adds.

“The Autodoc?” Gunge asks. “Where are you? Where’s this Autodoc?”

“Near Miami. Where are you?”

Gunge looks around. “Not really sure. Someone asked me to speak to you.”

“Who?” Gator asks.

“I don’t know him. He said his name was Sir Fredricks.”

“Sir Fredricks?”

Gunge nods. “That’s a strange name isn’t it?”

“A little weird,” the mercenary admits. “Where is he?”

Gunge points out into the mist. “Somewhere out there. He said it was important to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“He said there was trouble on the horizon,” Gunge says furrowing his brow. “Things are changing.”

“Shit is brewing in Miami,” Gator says impatiently. “What does that have to do with me?”

Gunge shifts his feet in the muck. “He said it had to do with a woman. She sounded like November. He thinks she’s involved in something dangerous.”

“Well she’s with us,” he says plainly. “We are not danger adverse.”

Gunge scratches his head. “He said a lot of things. I didn’t really understand them all. Stuff about secret projects and technical stuff. He said there was someone who might understand. He mentioned two names:White and Jarhead.”

“I know Jarhead but what does White have to do with it?”

Gunge searches the mud before facing his friend. “He said they could contact him. They would understand what he is talking about. I guess he said that he could explain it to them.”

“How do I get them to talk to him?” Gator asks, peering closely at the one-eyed man.

Something slithers through the space where Gunge’s legs should be. “I don’t know, he said they would know.”

“Okay I’ll try to tell them,” he sighs.

“I got to go,” Gunge says faintly.

Gator half reaches for him. “Before you go, you are dead and all. Did you leave anything around I should know about? I know you kept lots of stuff around.”

“I think you took it all,” he replies, the light bleeding through him.

“I have your map,” Gator says quickly. “What do the symbols mean?”

“I can’t stay too long.” Gunge’s voice fades away. “But the ‘B’ stands for a bunker. I could never get in....”

Gunge’s form melts into the mist, leaving Gator alone in the swamp. With nothing else to do he wanders into the fog.

As Gator looks for trouble, I break to get dinner.

Meanwhile November asks, “is everybody cool with me going slightly evil?"

Violet says, "Out of character that your decision. In character, Violet would probably have a problem with that."

Gator comments, "it's Apocalypse World. My character is not good or evil.

"My character just does things," Jarhead says.

Talk turns to the weather where my East coast players contend with -20 temperatures (with wind chill). I understand but I had to deal with far worse when I was in the Midwest.

We jump to deal with Violet and the Militia.


Violet finds the makeshift camp clustered in the shadow of the Music Bowl. One tent stands out, surrounded by armed men and women talking anxiously and glancing at the entrance.

“Is he getting better?” a crewcut woman asks.

“He still hasn’t woken up. The nurses say his heartbeat is irregular,” a bandaged man tells her.

Violet pushes through the crowd. Snatches of conversation reach her. “Internal bleeding.” “Doesn’t sound good.” “They say it’s a coma.”

At the tent door, she runs up against Mox’s towering figure.

“What is it?” the dark-skinned man asks her.

“I think I might have found a way to help your boss,” she explains. “One of my friends has built a medbay. He’s agreed to let us make use of it. With your permission we could take him there and help stop the bleeding.”

I ask her to roll Manipulate a person. It’s Violet’s worst stat. She gets a 3.

Mox shakes his head slowly. “I’m sorry I can’t make that decision for him. I have to let the Lieutenant do that.”

“The Lieutenant?” she asks.

“Yes,” Mox says scratching his bandaged arm. “She should be here this afternoon.”

Violet nods. “I’ll come back and talk to her then.”

Mox looks away quickly. “If you want.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

Mox turns to her. “It’s your choice. Lieutenant is not one to listen to outsiders though.”

Then I have to grab the veggies for dinner and talk turns to movies & TV. Apparently Violet is upset about Kirk’s decisions in The Mark of Gideon. Meanwhile November has lots to say about the Arrow & Flash which I may need to discuss on our podcast at some point.

When I get back I ask Violet to Read a person. She gets a 10.


“What would help you let Jarhead patch up A.T.? Time may be of the essence. We can’t really wait that long.”

Mox stammers. “I have to follow the nurses’ advice. I know they know what they are doing. I don’t know about your friends skills”

“If I talk to the nurses and they approve it, would that convince you?”

“Well they are taking care of him now so I guess if they think he’s better off in your care then what else have we got.”

Violet looks around. She spots Millions and hurries over.

Back to Jarhead.

Jarhead putters around the medbay, setting up the workshop for his brain surgery. He glances at Waters as the boy keeps an eye on the cooling augury. With luck the device will be fully functional by this afternoon.

Allison walks over. “Have you seen Memo?”

“Last time I saw her, she was in the van,” he says, the pain leaking into his jaw.

“Ok I’ll go look.”

“If she’s not I’ll yell at her,” Jarhead calls after her.

Next I touch base with November.

November’s plan is to get some explosives and create an explosion at the other shower room where the rest of White’s men are kept. This will draw some of the guards away from Cougar. Then she will call Cougar to her at place of her choosing (via Lost). There she will kill her in an elaborate ritual. She decides to set up her ritual chamber in the infected mushroom farm below the Music Bowl.

So her next step is to find explosives. She decides to seduce someone from Militia.

Next Gator.


Gator wanders through the murky realm of his dreams. A thick mist hides everything more than a dozen yards away. The ground ranges from thick mud to waist-high water. Occasionally something swirls the muck from below.

I have him roll weird. He gets a 4.

Suddenly a shape emerges from the mist. The stick-like figure approaches him. Despite her grayed hair and starved form, Gator recognizes his wife. Her dead empty eyes see through him. “Adam!” she cries. “Where were you?”

Gator rolls to read a sitch and gets a 4. “I’m so doomed,” he comments. At least he marks experience.

Rose seems much more solid than Gunge, moving in hitches and jumps. One moment she stands thirty feet away, obscured by mist. Another moment and her hands wave inches from his face. “Adam! You never came! I cried and cried every night and you never came. You never came for me or Gabi.”

“Who took you?” he asks the walking corpse.

She twitches, her knotted hair shifting to expose a painful brand. “They were a biker gang. They grabbed us and sold us. I tried to get away but my owner burned me.” Her eyes lock on his again. “I prayed for you to come to come save us. But you never came.”

“I tried. I couldn’t find you,” he says backing away. “You were gone.”

“You couldn’t save us, you couldn’t save me.” she mumbles.

I ask, “how long ago was all of this?”

He says he was 23 when it happened which was about 10 years ago.


“Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m dead!!” she screams drawing closer. “I died and Gabi hates you!”

”That’s harsh,” Jarhead comments.

“She’s still alive?” he shouts back. “Where is she?”

“She hates you,” she screams, her body growing thinner, more skeletal. “Why didn’t come to save us?!”

As she moves to attack I have Gator roll acting under fire. He gets 9 and marks experience.

Bony hands reach for him, clawing at his clothes and armor. He tries to run, his feet sinking into the mire. Hands press down on him. Straps hold down his legs. A light flashes in his eyes.

“Hold him down! Hold him down!” someone shouts.

As he struggles to free himself, a figure says, “we need more sedative. Knock him out.”

He feels a pain in his arm and suddenly everything goes dark. Truly dark. Gator sleeps and doesn’t dream.

I gave him a chance to act and he chose to hesitate. So dreamless coma for him.

Violet presses through the crowd to the doll-like figure in the center. Millions looks up with dazzling blue eyes too large for a normal face. She halts her orders for packing supplies and asks, “what is it?”

“It would be really great to get A.T. on his feet as soon as possible,” she says.

“Well yes,” Millions says bluntly, “because then we could go back home.”

Before she can add any other comments, Violet explains, “I agree, which is why I wanted to suggest an alternative to the current care. A friend of mine, Jarhead?”

“I think we’ve met,” the plastic skinned nurse replies.

“While we were at the Autodoc he upgraded his workshop with medbay capabilities. I was wondering if you could check if they met your specifications. Mox said if they did he would consider putting A.T. under his care.”

Millions taps a delicate chin. “I guess we could look at it. It seems unlikely to be up to our specs but if it gets us home sooner...”

“Alright come with me,” Violet says leading the head nurse into the Music Bowl.

A few minutes later they arrive at the foundry. Millions carefully examines Jarhead’s gear as the tinkerer busies himself finishing some work on a strange metallic sphere.

“I remember this!” Millions says, delicate fingers reaching for some electrical equipment.

“Hey don’t touch any of that!” Jarhead calls out.

Millions draws back and traces the alterations and rewirings. “That’s interesting. I didn’t know you could do that with this piece of equipment.”

Jarhead limps over. “Well I needed to hook it up the other thing and so I had to finagle with the fuses.”

The head nurse scans the medbay. “Well you could take care of anything here. It is practically one of our crash rooms.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say,” he says.

“We could take A.T. to the Autodoc but with the computer down we have nothing better than this right now.” She turns to Violet. “So sure, if you want to accept responsibility for A.T., I’ll tell Mox he would get as good care here as he would with us.”

“Wonderful,” the rugged woman replies. “The sooner we can get him on his feet the better.”

Millions nods. “I’ll talk to Mox and then we’ll arrange a transfer. We have to make sure he’s taken care of every step of the way. And we then can get home.”

As Millions hurries off, Violet’s eyes settle on a crate with a U.S. flag draped over the side. As she moves closer she asks, “where did this come from?”

“The crate?” Jarhead asks. “It was given to us by the cult dude.”

“Yeah,” Allison says joining Violet. “Wisher dropped this off. He said the cult had acquire this and they wanted us to attach it that thing.” She points to a partially armored truck.

“How did they acquire them?” Violet asks, ice slipping into her voice.

“Sometimes I don’t ask questions about where the parts come from as long as the parts work,” Jarhead says going back to work.

“They didn’t tell us,” Allison says softly.

Violet turns to Jarhead. “It might be important because the leader of the Militia is coming this way and they recently notified me about some supplies that had been purloined from them.”

“It does have an American flag in there,” Allison says quietly.

“That is not going to go over too well,” Violet adds.

“Is this their truck?” Jarhead asks, his attention focused again.

“It might very well be.”

“No I think that was salvaged,” Allison says before shrinking back.

“Well this has Militia written all over it,” Violet says pointing at the crate.

“We could hide it,” Allison says looking around.

Jarhead nods. “Let’s hide it.”

“There’s the hole in the wall,” the blond teen says. “We could put it in there.”

“The hole that leads out of the foundry?” he questions.

“Well yes,” Allison says, “but we put the blocks back up and barricaded the room.”

“Can anybody get in there besides us?” he asks.

“Probably not. The ceiling would fall on them.”

He smiles. “Good let’s put it in there. I love an old ceiling trap, those are so much fun. Loud though.”

Allison moves to push the crate. She struggles to budge it. “This is pretty heavy though.”

“Waters!” Jarhead calls out.

Allison’s brother hurries over and slowly the two wrestle the crate over while Jarhead directs them.

“The next time I talk to the council of the Music Bowl they are going to get a piece of my mind!” Violet says while the others work.

Jarhead looks up. “Trust me you don’t want to lose a piece of your mind.”

Now for November’s plan.

November slinks up to a man guarding the Militia’s armored vehicle. She smiles as the man, Hugo, turns to her, unfazed by the pox marks running down the side of his face.

“Hey baby,” the well tanned man says.

“Hey honey,’ she replies moving in close.

“What are you up to?” he asks, his eyes everywhere but on hers.

“Looking for some fun,” she smiles. “Pretty quiet after the battle. Always gets my blood up.”

Hugo settles on her cleavage. “My shift is over in about an hour,” he suggests.

“What exactly are you doing?” she asks.

“Gotta keep an eye on the vehicle. It is going to be our weapon in taking down the rest of White’s forces.”

“Still looks kind of boring around here right now,” she pouts.

“Not so boring from my point of view.”

“Yeah but it could be a lot more exciting,” she says her hand sliding up his arm.

November rolls to seduce a person and gets a 8. She fine with the consequences. She marks experience.

Hugo voice quickens as he glances about. “I have my duffle in there, I guess we can find some place comfortable.”

The pair slip inside where the thick armor plating muffles their activities.

November then rocks his world, rolls hypnotic, marks experience again and gets a soft success.

A while later, Hugo smiles up at November as she pulls a pair of grenades from the supplies. “I might need them so I can help for the coming battle,” she says, before crouching down to grab her shirt.

“They won’t miss them,” he says sleepily. “Though I heard someone stole some of our supplies. A.T. wasn’t happy. Whoever did that is going to pay.”

“If someone does notice these missing, maybe it was those guys,” she suggests, pulling on her clothing.

“Yeah those guys, that’s a good idea.”

November gives him a final kiss. “Thanks for the fun sweetie.”

Now for the action. November chooses to read a charged sitch first. She gets a 9 and gains experience. Who is in control here?

”You are.”


A half hour later, November gingerly stretches a length of fishing line around a corner. She takes a deep breath, then a short one. Then she pulls.

Down the hall the pins of the grenades pull free and a deafening explosion blows out the wall. As White’s men make their bid for freedom, November disappears into the tunnels beneath the arena.

November rolls acting under fire and gets a 10. The plan is working.

She soon reaches a carefully prepared chamber, lit by a distant fluorescent light. She whispers, “Cougar, come to me.”

She rolls Lost and gets a hard success.

Minutes before Jarhead repeats his instructions to Violet for the third time. “Just let the drill do its work and keep the blood out of my eyes. Once it punches through the bone, stop it. Then makes sure you use the bandages to stop the blood flow and bind up the hole in my head.”

Jarhead acts under fire, he gets to roll weird since he is spooky intense. He gets a 15! He marks experience and advances.

Violet nods mutely.

Jarhead starts the surgery, applying an anesthetic to the side of his head. An automated drill whirs to life, slicing through his temple and into his skull. Violet wipes the sweat off his brow and throws the switch once she hears the final crunch.

As the pressure releases on his head, Violet quickly applies the bandages to stop the bleeding and patch the wound. Jarhead slips into unconsciousness.

Jarhead considers taking Cassandra Complex or some other psychic power. I mention it fits some shamanic traditions. He literally opened his brain. “I’m a firm believer on Savvyheads performing brain surgery on themselves.”

Violet reads Jarhead’s vitals on the machines. The wiry man seems stable. She sighs.

An explosion rocks the arena.

“Now what!” she shouts.

“That sounds like it came from the other side of the Music Bowl,” Allison says jumping to her feet.

“Allison keep an eye on him,” Violet orders. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid when he wakes up. And make sure he isn’t retarded or anything. I’m going to go check that explosion.”

“Okay,” the younger woman says. “If you see Memo you should tell her to come back here.”

“I’ll do that.”

Come back in two weeks when we find out who wins: Violet or November.