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The Smoldering Corpse Bar

@smolderingcorpsebar / smolderingcorpsebar.tumblr.com

D&D stuff by teal-deer.tumblr.com

I need people outside the MTG community to know about this

An angel collared and leashed a bratty assassin like a dog and dragged her to a meeting to show her off I fucking can't

It's the bratty "we could've stayed home" that really gets me. That isn't the behavior of a captive, that's the behavior of a sub looking for punishment

In my brain Aurelia doesn't realize how kinky collaring Massacre Girl is, and Massacre Girl is going along with it because she DOES know how kinky it is

I need someone to draw them fucking.

Spending rent money on 2.5 x 3.5 inch pieces of cardboard.

You know, one of the most shameful consequences of scifi/game authors not knowing shit is cyberpsychosis, or Essence, or whatever in-universe asspull for a mechanical limiter on how much cyberware you can cram into a character sheet.

There is an easy excuse in real life! You may not be able to get both a pacemaker and a DBS device because they're both pieces of sensitive equipment that could theoretically interfere with each other, and nobody engineered them not to. Trivially you can extrapolate this to all cybernetics. If your various augs weren't Specifically designed not to mess with each other (and of course the various megacorps might take things a step further, making their shit actively hostile to mix-and-matching), you might have problems; and obviously, the more pieces of hardware you've patchworked yourself with, the worse things get. You'd have to be one real crazy motherfucker to tell a back-alley doctor to load you up with whatever they've got.

It's more grounded and more realistic and less shitty and it actively enhances the atmosphere of cyberpunk in a way that "losing your humanity" does not. we are missing out on much because none of these writers know anything about how medtech works

Swords Without Master has arrived!

I come to you with unmatched good news!

The glorious tabletop RPG Swords Without Master (previously only available in Worlds Without Master Issue #3) is being released as a standalone book!

The game is live on kickstarter, awaiting your support to manifest itself in the most glorious and fitting form: a book, custom dice, and a true dragon’s hoard of art in the form of eidolon card folios!

map by Ripley Matthews

Treasures for the Mind

What excites me most about playing Swords Without Master? The genre-ful feast the game entices you to imagine as you play!

Your rogues: sworn to those whose names they hold; armored in remnants of adventures past; gleaming with determination, obsession or glorious doom.

Your realm: writhing storm clouds over thrice-cursed swampland; a dessicated dragon corpse hollowed out into an unearthly church; crumbling castle ruins hiding an ephemeral market of artifacts, amulets, spells and swords.

All of you at the table alternately feted and foiled by the whim of the dice — driven into stories both jovial and glum, given gifts of both mysteries and morals, and so much more.

eidolon by Jabari Weathers

Treasures for the Eye

What brought me into the inner workings of this endeavour?

I have the honour of contributing to this glorious game as the art director! I have been working with Epidiah Ravachol and Nathan D Paoletta at Unwritten Earths to make sure that the illustrations are as wondrous and strange as the game deserves, and I am over the moon with what we have in store for you!

What wonders await you in this new edition?

There will be beautiful cover art from the brilliant Erin Vest, whose work captures the wonder, mystery, glumness and joviality we love in Swords Without Master!

The book will be filled to bursting with glorious interior artwork, all of it held together with evocative glyphs designed by Elemei!

glyphs by Elemei

We are also creating beautiful folios of artful tarot-sized eidolon cards, to inspire you as you play!

The kickstarter is launching with four folios of 6 cards each:

Master Selu Fyrmyor’s Pilfered Charts of the Knowable World maps by Ripley Matthews, Fernando Salvaterra, Arlin Ortiz and Kyle Latino

An Age Before Time illustrated by Goran Gligović

The Sepulchre of Astonishments illustrated by Jabari Weathers

Trials of the Stargazers illustrated by me, Shel Kahn

eidolon by Goran Gligović

Treasures for the Hand

Some treasures cannot be available forever – hand-made custom low-vision accessible tone dice, say.

The unparalleled Jaydot Dice is crafting tone bones – pairs of oversized (20mm) 6-sided dice to help you roll for glum or jovial tones. They will be distinguishable visually and through touch, and due to the skilled labour involved in each set, they are limited edition kickstarter exclusives.

If these speak to you, do not miss this chance to snag a set!

eidolon by Shel Kahn

So I'm working more on this FF8-inspired TTRPG setting, in which I have bit off so much more than I can chew as far as design work goes, but I'm just going to keep chipping at it until it's roughly playable and then hope I can get some folks interested enough with the rough draft to help me finish it off.

Beware, Wall of Text below the cut.

Meanwhile, over in Shadowrun...

The only difference IRL is that the corporate heads are those tiny little Medieval-illumination dragons that keep getting trampled by horses. Nobody's come along and ridden over them with a horse lately, so they've started to think they're the D&D kind with magnificent shining scales, and are horribly confused as to why actual humans don't respect them appropriately.

Go find a horse. Remind them that they're lizards with wings.

The single funniest Minthara moment in BG3 for me was when I was in a boss fight and she declared, “Lee la loo!” and strode authoritatively toward the boss only to immediately eat shit on some nearby ice.

I had never heard her say it before and I guess it’s some kind of Lolth drow warcry, but hearing nonsense sounds in her very serious voice only for her turn to instantly end was hilarious and confusing.

Like the turn order moved away from her so fast that I didn’t even understand what had happened until I saw her laying in a puddle presumably more embarrassed than she’s ever been in her life.

She says "L'il alurl" which would translate to "the best" and you're right that it's a drow war cry, as Viconia says the same thing in bg2 in combat.

What this means is it can also be seen as Minthy saying "im the best >:)" then immedietely eating shit on ice

Bandits, though. They're an interesting problem! A lot of media wants to be about fighting, because fighting is exciting, and in the case of videogames fighting has a rich mechanical history with a lot of depth to plumb. But not everything wants to be about the murky moral conflicts that an honest depiction of violence would be. So they want ontologically evil baddies to kill, to have the fun parts of fighting without anyone sympathetic getting hurt.

I'm a radical proponent of the "evil isn't real" theory of the human psyche, but honestly even I think it's overkill to write off Evil as a narrative device entirely. Not-real things appear in fiction all the time, after all. A lot of these games that involve those roving gangs of ultraevil baddies who outnumber the population of normal people 3 to 1 are trading heavily on suspension of disbelief anyway. It can be interesting to bust that open and interrogate it, absolutely, but you can't frame it as a genuine revelation when everyone involved in the process is at least loosely aware of the absurdity. The devs know it, the player knows it, but there's a social contract in place to bend the rules of reality in service to delivering the interactions the audience is here for.

Not to say that "it's just fiction, don't read so much into it" is a fair angle to take either. These tropes are reflected in real worldviews and real ideas of the human condition. But often I think there's a bit of ambiguity on how unreal the ontologically evil badguys are meant to be. I think that's what gives tropes like these their staying power. They can remain "apolitical" by introducing a clear element of absurdity and allowing the viewer to decide how much that element infects the whole of the concept. Everyone can agree that these spontaneuously respawning packs of raiders are obviously not meant to be taken at face value, but where one player may take this as a sign that the whole thing is meant to be a little unreal, another player may say, sure, their numbers are exaggerated, but there's some real nasty fuckers out there in the world, and our society is just a hair away from these cutthroats overrunning us all. In the end, everyone gets to choose how much of their worldview is honestly represented in the work, and all come away satisfied.

It's a neat trick, if a little dark, and there's still some background miasma of what a work of fiction decides are the markers of an ontologically evil badguy. Like, if all the good guys live in castles, and all the evil guys live in huts, that kind of gives off an impression, you know? What decisions a work makes about who these evil guys are and how they fit into the world can have a big impact on how it's percieved. It doesn't matter how fantastic you make your villains, if the heroes in your setting talk about them the way racists talk about immigrants, you have a problem. I think often fiction with these bandit-types try to dodge the most outright xenophobic implications by framing them as evil people from all cultures who have abandoned their old lives in order to prey on the weak, but that still reinforces a specific worldview about what evil is and where it comes from, even if it's less overtly offensive than the "foreign hordes".

Either way, I think I would like to see a little more variety in who gets to be the evil ones. Generic bandits are overplayed, gimme something new! If nothing else, can we at least put the heroes in huts and the villains in castles for once? You don't even need to pair it with a Big Important Narrative About Colonialism, just let the imagery stand for itself. Have some fun with it!!

Replace the effect of every card in the Deck of Many Things with an event mentioned in Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire

A few months after submitting this idea, I've made it!

I first had to take a list of all 118 historical references in the song (from the Wikipedia page) and turn them, in a localized Jojo's Bizarre Adventure's fashion, into an (ideally) setting-agnostic version of what Billy Joel was saying or alluding to.

Then I had to figure out an effect for each of them, either directly or indirectly connected with the original concept.

Ultimately, I've cut 18 (15%) items to neatly fit them in a d100 roll; most of them had to do with politics, war and the like, since that was the most numerous category; I landed on ones that weren't too widely known, too similar to other items present, or just those that were to hard to convert into D&D mechanics.

I also had to make sure the entirety of the items' effect was balanced (like the original Deck of Many Things) and tracked the main categories that each effect fell into, to ensure enough variety.

You can now download the PDF here, beautifully illustrated by Dusky Cat. I've done some other work for Kelfecil's Tales, so you can check them out too!

LONG MOSTLY UNEDITED POST AHEAD! tl;dr Eureka’s devs made the unconventional choice to create an imbalanced, volatile, and deadly tabletop combat system, and it helps make the game really good at telling detective stories. If you’re ever making a game that’s inspired by genre fiction, you shouldn’t be afraid to copy tropes that other games don’t normally use. Also, check out Eureka! It’s incredibly fun to read and play, and a master class in thoughtful game design. Full write up below.

One underrated aspect of @anim-ttrpgs’s Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy that I think tabletop designers should look to for inspiration is the fact that it doesn’t shy away from the conventions of its genre, even if they conflict with the conventional wisdom of how TTRPGs usually work. Eureka wants to be a toolkit for mystery stories in the vein of Agatha Christie-style mystery novels, film noir, or detective TV shows like Columbo and Kolchak, and it’s willing to bend tabletop gaming tradition to do that in a way that seems limiting, but actually increases the potential for compelling and appropriate stories.

The example that made this observation come up for me is the choice to create a crunchy, tactical combat system where guns and explosives absolutely break the power curve. Usually, in games that are heavily opinionated about combat and dangerous situations, the goal is for the player characters to fight with finesse and skill, often growing in power over time, and to that end there are many viable strategies that all scale massively as the players upgrade them. This is a great way to allow for fights that feel balanced, larger than life, and satisfyingly heroic. It’s also not remotely what Eureka does.

Eureka’s combat isn’t meant to emulate a modern action film, a high fantasy adventure, or a shonen anime. It aims to emulate the deadly, fast paced, environmentally driven heightened realism of action scenes in classic film noir, and to do that, it’s brave enough to ask its players to change their expectations about what a crunchy combat system looks like. Combat moves quickly, it’s physically and mentally taxing on the people involved, it’s character driven, and it is supremely dangerous. That’s abstract, but it’s pretty clear from the rules about weaponry: any bullet can incapacitate an average person in one shot, and explosives instantly kill people within their blast radius.

That’s of course not the only thing driving the danger of Eureka’s combat — another fun figure is that it only takes ten good punches or kicks to incapacitate or kill someone — but I think it’s a good way to get at the core of what Eureka tries to do: it forces you to consider what options actually make sense and create opportunities for interesting stories.

Eureka doesn’t want investigators valiantly charging across a battlefield to push up against their assailants or anything, because the stories it tries to produce are very grounded in depicting how unlikely that is to work. (If a character in a vintage noir film gets shot anywhere in their torso or head, they aren’t likely to survive without intensive medical attention, and Eureka is faithful to that!) Eureka wants people to scope out the location to improve their strategy, make smart use of ambushes and weaponry to get an advantage on people who threaten them, and run away or avoid combat if they come across someone they can’t handle.

This extreme volatility massively limits the reliability of characters’ abilities and ensures that far fewer options are available in combat, which seems like it would be less fun, but it’s quite the opposite. The action sequences that Eureka produces are incredibly engaging and fun to play out, because it makes smart use of tried and true tropes to make fights in mystery stories feel compelling and relevant. Heightened realism, danger, and desperation are important to mystery genre fiction, and Eureka seeks to put the players in that headspace. Fights are swift, violent, and often primarily decided by who had better plans and supplies. That’s by design.

There are a lot of great interactions that are enabled by this design philosophy — if a mafia goon pulls aside his jacket to reveal a handgun in his waistband, Eureka encourages the players and characters to take it seriously, because using a gun is seriously raising the stakes! That’s a trope that’s commonly used in all sorts of media, but if guns were easy to deal with, it would make no sense to worry about it. Creating a system that reflects how threatening guns can be in mystery stories and real life is a great way to avoid ludonarrative dissonance and encourage genuine character interactions, and Eureka is oozing with other design tidbits that accomplish similar things. (Hell, half the trait list is basically just there to allow investigators to embody classic genre tropes, and it’s awesome.)

(Deadly weapons in Eureka are balanced by the fact that they and the training needed to use them effectively are often challenging and expensive to get, especially by legal means — which also allows for some interesting social commentary on how violence is exceedingly easily enacted by the wealthy and powerful, while the self defense of marginalized people is criminalized and villainized — but there’s enough there for a whole other post, and this one is long enough as is.)

All that to say, if Eureka had blindly gone with the prevailing approaches taken by popular RPGs in this area (and many others), it would not be half as good at what it does — it would just feel like a reskin of some other game, but marketed as investigative urban fantasy. Instead, it’s a wholly original toolkit that lets writers, GMs, and players create their own spins on a classic plot structure in a fun and engaging way. Taking risks, thinking about incentive structures, and comparing the stories you want to tell with other media that creates a similar vibe is what takes an RPG from being just good to being great. If you’re designing a game, you can accomplish a lot by knowing what stories you want to create and honing in on why you enjoy them. And don’t be afraid to adapt ideas wholesale, either. Eureka cites multiple full pages of inspirations for the vibes, stories, and mechanics that make up its identities, and it’s a better game for it.

And, I must add, if you’re looking for a game that’s fun, good at telling stories about people investigating mysteries, has a friendly and active community, and doesn’t funnel money to Wizards of the Coast, a subsidiary of Hasbro, then absolutely consider taking Eureka out for a spin! It’s a brilliant take on the mystery genre that gives players and GMs the tools to explore deep, realistic, and sometimes supernatural situations in an easy and character driven package.

I definitely need to look into this system with more depth, as a lover of both mystery games and difficult combat this sounds incredibly interesting, also a brilliant way to explain it's design

The reason your fantasy pantheon doesn't feel authentic is because you're starting from the wrong end. Real-world polytheism is syncretic – just deities from neighbouring cultures getting smashed together at high speed and leaving it for nerds with too much time on their hands to figure out how it makes sense. You are yourself a nerd with too much time on your hands. Don't start out asking yourself what domains make sense together. Pick domains at random and work backwards to invent a theology and metaphysics whereby of course the god of war is also the god of baked goods. What kind of silly question is that?

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