2022/12/22

OSR: Behind the Curtain: Sessions 5-12 Examination

I'm trying a new series of posts, where I examine my RPG sessions in detail, trying to show how I GM, what rulings I make, and issues that a narrative writeup can conceal. This type report is a lot easier to write immediately after the session, but the detailed behind-the-scenes reports often took as long, or longer, than the play reports. I don't have time to maintain that kind of output, so this is a condensed and squished version of the last few sessions.

This post won't make much sense if you haven't read the narrative session reports.

Session Reports:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,

Session Examinations: 1, 2, 3, 4,

Spoilers below. In the unlikely event that any of my players see this post, skip it. Trust me.

 

Descriptions of the players and their characters are in the first post. Player designators use the same letter as the first name of their PC. E.g. [T] is Tom's player. Though Agnes died in session 4, I'll continue to use [A] for her player because [A] was unable to join the game after Session 5. As Doyle Wormsby sticks around for longer, [W] = Doyle/Haze's player = [H]  in the previous behind-the-curtain writeups. Confused? Don't worry about it.

Session 5

At the end of the previous session, the PCs had been released from jail, possibly to bait out their enemies, possibly so the Coppers could secretly monitor them via scrying. I hadn't settled on any one option, but I suspected Victus Crane and the other Deekers would try to track the PCs as far as possible, but would lose them in the magical churn of Loxdon College (or when the PCs took active anti-scrying steps).

Writing 6+ sessions later, the PCs have yet to take any anti-scrying steps, despite a) knowing they exist, b) knowing that one or more opposed factions have access to scrying, and c) constantly worrying about scrying. Oh well.

Before the session, or possibly at the end of the previous session, [A] rolled up Ribbles the Helpful Urchin and [W] rolled up Doyle Wormsby. I came up with a way to introduce both new PCs, based on the probable course of action the other PCs were likely to take. I expected them to confront Tallerand and raid his lab, so that took care of Ribbles. I think [A] suggested the idea. Doyle could easily be working a case and run into the PCs. 

I decided that Lizzy's extracurricular activities would probably lead to her getting fired by the Coppers. The appearance of respectability is important in Endon. Cooks should act like cooks (i.e. like furniture). They shouldn't bring the Metropolitan Police into disrepute.

Doyle's monologuing is a lot of fun, and I wish his player did it more frequently. The vast majority of the dialogue, quips, and puns in the session reports are said during play, though not always by the same character.

I didn't have a precise plan for how the PCs could find Tallerand's lair, but asking students seemed plausible. Professors don't work solo. Labs leak.

The final confrontation between Tallerand and Jonty was a lot of fun. I'd prepared stats in case the PCs decided to fight. A flesh golem (AD&D style, with 40 HP, 2x 2d8 damage attacks, etc.) is a formidable foe for a low-level group of PCs, even before you consider Tallerand and his wands. But I expected Jonty, given half the chance, would take the cash and support the deception, orphan-death be damned.

Dean Bradewort was improvised. He's got one of the classic silly voices.

The money laundering process took far too long. It's tricky to prevent an intrigue-based RPG from turning into a creative accounting RPG. Equally, it's hard to make fiscal policy and the early history joint-stock companies gameable.

Session 6

Unfortunately, [A] was unable to join this or subsequent games, leading to slightly less chaos than anticipated when I planned the group.

The group's industrial sabotage plan was brilliantly executed, even if the players forgot to plan the second half of it and had to improvise. I was frantically improvising the whole time. Integrating the origin of the Mild Dogs into the Gel Knights was a fun way to introduce them to the PCs.

I also liked how the players tried to make their story neatly Copper-shaped, complete with Castle of Cagliostro-type fake surprise. "Whaaat is all this? Gel Knight poison?! How shoooocking!"

I didn't want to connect the Gel Knight saga to any of the major factions percolating in Endon... yet. The players had enough going on, and none of the factions (as I imagined them at this stage) had a use for Gel Knights.

Session 7

While reviewing my notes for this session, I realized that Dr. Hartwell shared a last name with a vital NPC from one of the Innovations. I should have noticed it before, of course, but somehow I never made the connection. Rather than rename the NPC, I decided she was Dr. Hartwell's sister, and inflicted her on the group.

"Foreign", the language of people from Foreign Parts, is basically odds-and-ends from any language a player knows, but rendered in an incorrect accident. 

By this session, I knew that Alfonso the Hydra would be a crucial NPC. His Innovation - illusionary servants - was of interest to the faction I was building around Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl. 

I expected the players to be more interested in the potential uses of a Calculating Golem, but they have yet to devote much time to it. They've considered integrating the Gel Knight oozes with the golems, possibly to form some sort of horrible sentient fluidic computer (like the MONIAC).

João Bragato

Session 8

The Jonty Suit and the Eel Luring Plot were improvised on the spot. I'd expected the players to take [L]/Lizzy's very sensible suggestion and use a magic item on a rope as bait. I didn't expect [J] to invent a new (low budget) magic device to do a job an enchanted tea kettle could do equally well.

The design of the Jonty Suit, as sketched and described, reminded me of a fresnel lens. Though it was intended as a magic diffuser, I thought - based on the paradigm and good sensible technobabble - that it resembled a condenser, focusing raw magic into a point. As any wizard knows, enough raw magic in one area can punch a hole in reality, so this seemed like a way to create an Elsewhere Rift on a budget.

The rift and the creature were randomly generated. I didn't expect the PCs to fight it fairly.

In the session, but not in the writeup, Lizzy downed a Luck Potion before attacking the creature with a knife, making the attack more likely to hit... except it was already impossible to miss. The backswing of bad luck caught her on the dodge roll to evade the Toad Grenade. I wasn't terribly pleased with how I ran that combat. I should have drawn a proper map and kept the positions of everyone a little more clear. 

Jonty racing into the river to catch Lizzy's body was both gallant and very silly. I made it fairly clear that even if Jonty managed the heroic feat of athleticism, Lizzy still had around 40 Fatal Wounds, far more than a clear spell from Tom could cure. She was dead in all but the most ambitious medical sense.

Session 9

After [Dr] suggested necromancy at the end of the previous session, I realized that Lizzy's death could be a fun opportunity to introduce time travel. I didn't plan for it during Session 8, but luckily, the sheer number of dangling plot threads and potential solutions meant that a stable time loop was viable. I'd already written the post, invented Edward Konivov, and prepared a whole set of tips for a situation just like this.

I also realized that Tallerand's project could use a time machine. It solved a number of problems, including the "Save Me" note Uriah Shambledrake Sr. wrote and the long-term ideological aims of the conspiracy. 

After all my careful time-travel planning, including writing a timeline of the few days, [T] had to miss the session at the last minute (for a very good reason). Scheduling is the final boss of D&D. Luckily, I improvised a role that would keep Tom busy during the loop and solve the "problem" (invented on the spot) of where the lightning bolt came from. It was still funny that [L], who had little to do in the session other than offer helpful advice, was present, while [T], who the group really could have used, wasn't. Oh well.

At the start of the session, I presented the players with 3 options. 

  • 1. Lizzy is dead, everyone is sad, [L] rolls up a new character. [L] is completely fine with this option.
  • 2. Dread Necromancy. [Dr]'s suggestion from the end of the last session. [W] was not pleased by this idea and said that Doyle wouldn't participate. He wouldn't stop the other PCs, but he thought it was a very bad plan.
  • 3. A Third Unstated Option. I told the players that it would involve some degree of player buy-in, "like running a premade dungeon module", but that it could be a lot of fun. While the group debated, [W] thought about it carefully and decided it was probably time travel, and therefore both the best and the worst possible option.

I prepared for all 3 options, and I didn't have a preference... but given the opportunity to open the mystery box...

I knew that I wanted Snedge to follow them through the Time Funnel. The sensible idea would have been to have Snedge enter before the PCs, but, on the spot, I realized that there was another way. If one end of the Time Funnel moves backwards in time at the same rate as the other end moves forwards, then someone can enter the time funnel after the PCs and emerge before them. 

Will this lead to all sorts of complicated time shenanigans if the PCs find another Time Funnel? Almost certainly. The players keep speculating about the hypothetical future Dinosaur Episode.

The actual time travel loop was fairly easy to run. [W] "got" the rules fairly quickly. [J] kept getting slightly confused and bringing up "timelines", which lead to the running gag of "there is only one timeline and it is shaped like an S". In-character, Doyle has Int 6 and Jonty has Int 17, which made it even funnier. 

Given the tools the players had available, I expected them to use an illusion to switch out Lizzy or use a polymorphed corpse. I didn't worry about the details; a solution seemed possible, and it was up to the players to find one that worked.

Both Snedges also had a plan, though I decided that Later Snedge, despite his cunning, might not entirely understand the rules of time travel, or communicate them to Earlier Snedge. The PCs mostly encountered Later Snedge, as Earlier Snedge was busy tracking Earlier PCs and Alfonso the Hydra.

At the end of Session 9, several elements of the various factions in Endon had crystalized. Significant spoilers to follow.

Factions

Lord T-on-B

Decadent  / Old Money / The Current Social Order / Gambler's Ruin

Lord T-on-B wants a future where he, and his friends, are true gentlemen, and the rest of the world exists to gratify them. Illusionary servants are part of this goal, but there's less of a plan and more of a desired arrangement of the world. Anything that can help will be incorporated. Anything that threatens the order of the world must be destroyed or subverted. Lord T-on-B believes history naturally trends towards this outcome. It's not a conspiracy. It's the system. In other words, it's a big club, and you ain't in it.

With enough wealth and friends, Lord T-on-B can afford to force others to make risky and ruinous bets, while he secretly sits at the table and owns the casino. The problem with revolutions is that they tend to burn down the casino, and Lord T-on-B's total absence of morality means he cannot easily adapt to a new system.

I have a vague idea that Lord T-on-B and the Uriah Shambledrake Sr. started The Project together, but discovered incompatible political differences fairly quickly. 

"The Project"

Pseudo-monastic / Fanatical / Ends Justify The Means / St. Petersburg Paradox

You could argue "The Project" is a send-up of the Effective Altruism movement, or the internet Transhumanist cult, or a reference to Fyodorov's Cosmism... and it might be all of these, or none of them. It just seemed like a practical set of conclusions given the technology available in the setting. It's a conclusion others have reached first, with different technology, and will no doubt at some point in the future. 

The project's goal is to conquer death via time travel, memory and soul extraction, and the creation of new and imperishable bodies. It's an anti-death cult. If a few people get mangled along the way, it's not important - the goal is to save everyone, in the end. Did they really die? Anyone who opposes The Project doesn't see the big picture.

The Small Business Owners

Revolutionary / Incoherent / Self-Defeating / Sympathetic

There's a short story, I think it's by Saki or John Buchan, where a construction worker falls off a building and spends the last few moments of life scratching his name onto a stick. The narrator laughs at the idea. The worker was doomed. The stick means nothing and would no doubt be thrown away immediately. Late that night, while writing his memoirs, the narrator is visited by the ghost of the construction worker, who laughs at the futility of the work. After all, the book will be forgotten as soon as it's published, and the whole civilization will be rolled up in a few centuries anyway.

Point is, while rats might live short and confusing lives, who's to say that humans aren't in the same boat? Do the rats need a savior? Do they understand the system they seek to over throw, or do they only understand its consequences? Is that enough?

I didn't want to create classic villainous cults with no redeeming features. I wanted to create factions with comprehensible, even sympathetic, goals. Sure, Lord T-on-B manipulates people for his amusement and wants a chummy eternal cigar-smoking ruling class... but wouldn't it be grand if you were a member of that club? Sure, Tallerand experimented on orphans, but how many orphans die every day in Endon from trivially preventable illnesses (as Dr. Hartwell has pointed out)? Sure, the rats have incoherent political goals and want to eat all the humans, but do you have a completely robust system yourself, or do you assume the world you were born into is natural, correct, and worth defending?

Session 10

I misnumbered the reports. There is no Session 10.

I also missed writing about a subplot involving Alan Dard, the Needle Street Gang, and a Mild Dog. Lizzy and Doyle took on a case in Session 10 (I think) to track down an unusual glowing dog. Lizzy discovered the ad was placed by Mr. Louton, of Nortgreen & Louton Gel Knights, the firm they'd destroyed via industrial sabotage in Session 5. He'd somehow escaped jail and clearly wanted his mysterious dog back. Conveniently, he'd never met Lizzy.

Hearing of this, Dr. Hartwell put his urchin network on the case, offering a 3sp reward for the glowing hound. The hospital was briefly inundated with urchins bearing a suckling pig, terrier whose rear half was daubed with invisible paint, and a glowing puppy. The puppy resembled the glowing dog Lizzy had seen in Nortgreen & Louton's Gel Knight factory, but it turns out the urchin (Perry Pint) had stolen it from Alan Dard. The PCs decided to return in. Alan Dard hinted at horrible tortures befalling Perry Pint... before revealing the red-headed urchin was possibly his son, and lived in his gambling den in Needle Street. Alan had known Perry Pint' mother (though, to be fair, a lot of men had known Perry Pint's mother), and when Alan still had hair it was red, so he figured eh, the kid could be his. Perry Pint had thrown a flour bomb at the guard, nicked the mysterious dog, and turned it in for a reward. Alan was pleased the PCs showed honesty and good sense by returning his dog. The PCs were pleased that Alan had a heart of gold... or at least a gold-like metal that would fool a pawnbroker.

The Mild Dog's mysterious aura seemed to prevent violent thought or actions within a few feet. Dard wasn't sure if the effect was useful, but figured it had to be worth money. The original Mild Dog is still presumably running wild.

Dr. Hartwell brought the half-invisible terrier to the house, with the immortal line "Anna, look, I have brought you exactly the average number of dogs owned in Endon." The dog was eventually adopted by Lizzy, who scraped off some of the invisible paint to duplicate later. 

Joseph Wright of Derby

Session 11

Solidifying some of the factions in Endon between sessions was wise, as the players, as anticipated, followed up with Konivov and the Small Business Owners immediately. The group thought the Small Business Owners might be a Mafia-like organization (unrelated to Alan Dard), and were surprised to find that various hints about rats paid off.

The group's reaction to the rats was very interesting. 

Jonty immediately saw them as an asset, a tool in a larger conflict, and maneuvered accordingly. I tried to drop hints that the rats probably weren't stupid and may have been approached for similar services before. Jonty did not do a good job of showing class solidarity. He's a slippery character. The rats can see behind the mask. Jonty reminds me a bit of two characters played by Anton Walbrook: Dr. Falke in Oh Rosalinda!! and Paul in Gaslight. Always trying to be one step ahead by moving one space diagonally.

Tom's conflict isn't class vs. class or rats vs. humans. He's interested in humans vs. lighting. He's sworn revenge against an element, and like Ahab, for its "outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it." That inscrutable thing is chiefly what he hates; and be the lightning agent, or be the lightning principal, he will wreak that hate upon him. That, and lightning killed his parents in a hot air balloon accident.

Lizzy has no political sophistication. She is vaguely aware that Endon's society is not structured to support her. She can't be a Copper, except in her dreams. People ignore her all the time (even though she can kill everyone in this room/omnibus/hallway). She's trying to be a respectable middle-class Endonian woman while also having adventures and a rich inner life. It's not working. [L] is well aware of Lizzy's naivety and plays it up. The restrictions could be frustrating if the player wasn't on board, but since [L] is, it's all good fun. "One day, Lizzy is going to read a manifesto and then everyone is going to be in trouble," [L] said.

Doyle is aware of fault lines of Endon's system, but his pattern-seeking brain also sees possibilities that don't exist. He also doesn't care. He's after the Truth, with a capital T. Anyone who stands in the way of the Truth is the enemy. After discovering the nature of the Small Business Owners, he lost interest.

Dr. Hartwell, we all discovered in Session 11, has a revolutionary past. Revolutions in Foreign Parts have not gone well, but Endon has a combination of uncontrolled magic, a moderately free press, and a sluggish political class. It's an interesting twist for the character. I don't think the player has seen Duck You Sucker! (1971), but Dr. Hartwell suddenly feels like Sean "John" Mallory. Perhaps by uplifting the rats, he can make amends. 

There are other interesting issues the Speaking Rats can explore. If Dr. Hartwell decides to breed a species of long-lived human-sized politically-savvy super-rat, isn't that just eugenics with extra steps? What makes that right for rats and wrong for people? 

The group seems disinclined to assist Tallerand, Konivov, and Uriah Shambledrake Jr. with "The Project". They're aware that it could be a good thing, in the long run, but that's not the sort of bet any of the characters seem likely to make.

They're also absolutely opposed to any conspiracy that involves Snedge, on the (very wise) rule that anything with Snedge in it can't be wholesome. In ethics thought experiments, it's Snedge tying people to trolley tracks or locking prisoners in cells.

Session 12

Session 11 ended on a cliffhanger, with Alfonso, Doyle, and Snedge teleporting to parts unknown. Cliffhangers are great for GMs. They give you plenty of time to plan, and a fixed starting point with a clear set of outcomes. Less waffling and restating the plot at the start of the session, more immediate intrigue and plotting. Or, in this case, horse trading.

The setup - swap Alfonso for Huffman - is one that Lord T-on-B would have probably offered the group anyway, if Snedge failed to kindap/teleport the illusionist. If Sedge turned up alone (by teleportation or on foot), Morgan would have approached Jonty or Tom directly. As a GM, I bet Doyle wouldn't resort to violence unless he had to. Sure, he might break Snedge's nose on general principles, but Doyle isn't the kind of detective who'd kill Snedge in cold blood.

The Snail Method set up in Session 7 finally paid off, to Jonty's dismay. The Thaumovoric Eels have an origin and a weird life cycle. 

I had to prod [T] a bit to get them to invent the Lightning Inverter. They knew what they wanted it to do, but didn't have a clear idea of how. I basically said "technobabble is your job, not mine. You've got the pamphlets, you've got the paradigm. Make up some moderately convincing bullshit and draw a diagram on a napkin." And [T] did. 

The players also joked about magic-induced climate change. With Tom's stormcaller spell, the Lightning Accumulator, and a full scale Lightning Inverter, they (and anyone else with the same equipment) can pump out 60+ charges from a single storm. Magic accumulators will be obsolete. Endon doesn't have a unified sewage system and sits on ground that is, at best, spongy. A permanent thunderstorm could cause problems for citizens. Who says Atlantis was an island?

To build a full-scale Lightning Inverter (and rent a warehouse, and buy other industrial equipment), the players will need a lot of cash. 30,000gp or more, easily. I'm researching the early history of joint stock corporations and setting-appropriate mechanisms for turning some money into heaping heaps of money. If there's one thing players like more than accounting, it's planning complicated financial instruments and organizing contracts, right? Riiiight?

Here's a player-facing map of all the factions and plots currently going on in this game. It's not the most complicated factional web I've ever run, but it's getting there.

The GM-facing map is another page and a bit. Maps like this are very useful. If you're running an intrigue-based game, make one early and updated it often.

4 comments:

  1. Always nice to see the gears turn. Too risky to reveal the truth of the axe of black glass here, in text?

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    1. Bold of you to assume I have a plan. :D

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  2. Thanks for taking the time to write these up, it’s always fascinating to hear what’s going on behind the scenes. One detail I’d be curious about in future session write-ups is how much IRL time each session took, to get a feel for how play is paced.

    Two typos I spotted: missing “unable” in the first sentence of Session 6, and “lighting” missing an “n” in Session 11.

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    1. That's easy answer: each session is 4-4.5 hours, with probably 15-30 minutes of that spent on food, setup, and logistics nonsense.

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