Showing posts with label The Enemy Within. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Enemy Within. Show all posts

Monday, December 29, 2014

Stuffed Crocodile Stats

Stats for a necromantically-animated stuffed crocodile for Warhammer 3rd:

Minor Spoilers: As mentioned in my previous post, about half of the needed stats and rules for this monster appear in The Enemy Within, where it's part of an optional encounter. I took the stats they provided there, and extrapolated further, filling in the holes by comparing it to existing Beast and Undead monster stats.  Here's a summary of my thought process:

  • I gave it Fear, Dead Earnest and the immunity to crits because Skeletons have all those things. I figured being made of stuffed lizard-leather was close enough to being all bones.
  • I went with Fear 2 (instead of the Skeleton's awkward Fear rating that changes based on the situation) because it was just more elegant, and because I liked the math of "Undead + Gator = Extra Scary". Note that Fear 2 is not particularly worrisome that deep into The Enemy Within.
  • Night Vision is common to both Beasts and Undead. Nearly every official monster of either category has it.
  • Instinctive is on most Beasts, but it was a last-minute inclusion right before I clicked "save", and may be unnecessary or illogical for an Undead Beast. If it bugs you, just ignore it.
  • I gave it Swift because I thought that keyworded ability was same as the movement ability granted to this monster in the published Campaign. However, my reminder text on Swift is actually inaccurate. I realize now you could technically use Swift to load a gun or do something other than move. Tomorrow I will blog a bit about Swift and Fast and how they differ, and a simple house-rule that will fix both of them.
  • The card presented above is rather more dangerous than a Skeleton, Zombie, Crypt Ghoul, or Giant Wolf, a little tougher than a Boar, and about on par with a Tomb Banshee or a Cairn Wraith. Those comparisons are how I settled on the Threat rating of 4 (which is the level of the Boar, Banshee, and Wraith, if I recall correctly). 
  • I gave it one bonus melee attack action, because not all of the basic attacks for Beasts or Undead fit the notion of a crocodile.
  • I was originally thinking brainless Undead shouldn't have Cunning, but there's actually several examples in the game that do, so I grudgingly added it.

Those are almost exactly the stats I used when running the adventure. My original draft (just drawn up on a post-it note an hour before the session when I realized the stat-block was incomplete) was missing Instinctive and had no Cunning, but those changes make almost zero difference in the context of the original encounter (where the players are unlikely to hide from it).  Other than those minor tweaks, it's been tested in actual play and worked pretty well. IIRC, the bonus Melee action I used was one normally associated with Crypt Ghouls.

Update: Here's some possible card backs for it, depending on whether you want to focus on the creepy dead eyes and gaping mouth, or show your players how it's hanging from the ceiling in the adventure in question.





Tuesday, December 23, 2014

We Don't Need No Social Actions In Middenheim... Nor Monster Stats In Chaos

On Sunday, my RPG group completed The Enemy Within, a lengthy campaign for Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay 3rd Edition. Now finally free to talk about the plotline without ruining things for my players, I started a lengthy blog post about the things I liked and disliked, and the things that needed reworking in The Enemy Within. Yesterday I posted about 3000 words on things I'd do differently if I ran it again, and today I'll blather on for about that long again.


***SPOILER WARNING: the following contains MAJOR SPOILERS for The Enemy Within (for 3rd Edition WFRP)***  


  

 As a reminder for those who missed yesterday's post, The Enemy Within is divided into Four Books, each of which takes place in a different geographic region. Book One is in Averheim, Book Two is Middenheim, Book Three is Altdorf, and Book Four takes place in the Chaos Wastes (essentially hell itself).

We Don't Need No Social Actions In Middenheim

Book Two is kind of a problem, and definitely the weakest chapter of the scenario. It's not nearly as sandbox or detailed as Book One. It's not nearly as tight and structured as Book Three. It's just underdeveloped. The players come to Middenhiem with three quests, but they can safely ignore all but the most annoying of them.

I've discussed previously how the NPCs in Book Two are under-developed and have no stats. I provided home-brewed stat-cards for them here. That was months ago, so now I'd like to talk about other elements of Book Two that drove me up the wall.

The main quest (of the three quests in Book Two) has to do with the Corrupted Bell Clapper. This is vital to the plot, and must be accomplished... but it's also a big deceptive hose job. As written there's 100% chance the players will actually fail in their mission, and a 95% chance they'll think they succeeded. At the time, it probably seems to the players as an innocuous side-plot and a nice change of pace. It's only much later in the campaign that the players will realize it was a terrible bit of railroading. That they were being manipulated by the Devil himself (Tzeentch) is epic and very true to the setting, but it's also kinda awful the way this situation has zero chance of success. PC actions can alter all sorts of little details along the way and make the tasks and consequences more or less arduous, but no matter what they do the players are actually going to lose here, and they won't know it. While that's great drama, it sort loses sight of the fact that RPGs are not Movies/Plays/TV.

The quest also takes several days to complete, and more-or-less runs on frustration and stonewalling, with several unsympathetic NPC gatekeepers. This is another section of the module that probably runs better as a biting satire or over-the-top farce than as grimdark realism. That works in Paranoia, with all it's commie-mutant-traitor nonsense to have you laughing at the fubar bureaucratic nightmare, but the mutant-traitors in Warhammer don't wear fuzzy red ushankas. As I said yesterday, if only the tonal advice on page 147 had been on page 5 (or even page 87) you'd get a more consistent and rewarding experience for the players. The PCs should feel frustrated, but you really don't want the _Players_ to experience that particular emotional state too deeply.

The one part of the quest that's really cool is the ritual itself. I really admire the way it's broken up in to turns with an interesting action and die roll for each PC during each step. It's frustrating that even if every single PC succeeds at every single die roll the ritual just doesn't work, but again, it'd be an awesome plot for a TV series where the audience can see how they're being manipulated as it's happening. For the interactive collaborative storytelling of an RPG it's kind of a let down, since you generally want PCs (and players) to have some impact in whether they win or fail. It reads fine on the page, but in actual play it felt cheap and hollow to me. I think the players enjoyed it, but they don't know how badly they were being shafted.

There's two other quests running concurrently with that one, both of which involve the crazed Witch-hunter who is secretly a Slaanesh cultist. Both of these quests have a lot more agency for the players in that they can more directly influence how things play out and have much better odds of success. Unfortunately, many play groups are likely to feel they get a satisfactory resolution of those quests from a single scene. I mean, you don't really want to spend any more time than you have to around the Witch-hunter, and the person she's put on trial is a stranger to the PCs and business rival to their employer. You could sit back and avoid the plot, and everything would end up mostly okay.

The saving grace is that there's a whole other subplot about cultists that's only tangentially linked to main plots. If the players seem bored, or are willing to let the witchhunter do her thing off camera while the clock advances on the bell clapper plotline, the GM has a number of hooks for introducing some excitement (and chaos) to the adventure. If handled correctly, it can lead to an actual victory against the forces of darkness. My PCs wiped out every mutant or cultist in Middenheim, so that makes up a bit for being shafted by the main plot.

All of main quests could have been structured to make heavy use of social encounter rules, but for inexplicable reasons they were specifically written to avoid those mechanics. This is just a Shame (pun/mechanical-reference intended). Instead of solid social encounters with progress trackers and NPCs who can "fight" back in the conversational arena, we're given a series of single die-roll scenes that the GM can't afford to let the PCs fail.

Let's look at the main bell-clapper plot. Each day you meet a priest, and you get a single roll to influence him. Then he sends you away and tells you to return tomorrow. If you succeeded, when you return he passes you to the next priest up the line. Do that twice and you meet the head priest. If you influence him too, you gain access to the ritual and the holy flame. Each failed die roll adds at least a day of delay, but other than that there's no real challenge on those daily rolls. It's the entire Party ganging up on one NPC, plus a huge laundry list of positive and negative dice modifiers. As long as at least one PC has Fellowship 4+ and Charm or Guile trained, success is eventually guaranteed. If none of the PCs have those stats, the entire campaign will stall out until the GM decides to just hand-waive them through the last obstacles to save the campaign. So even if your party does have a smooth-talking character who ought to thrive in the spotlight of a social scene, they don't really get anything out of it. It's still 3 days, and 3 rolls, and any XP they spent on Social Actions are completely beside the point.

The Witch-hunter's trial is even less engaging and more of a stonewall. It doesn't matter how amazing the PCs oratory and social or legal skills, they can't convince her of the victim's innocence. This could have been an awesome full-on Social Encounter with progress trackers for her madness and the evidence or oratory.  Something more like this:


Yep, that would have done the job.



Instead, as written, the PCs will probably just flail about until the actual badguys screw up and provide a lead. Again, it's like we're watching a TV series. I love good TV shows, and this would be a great one, but when playing an RPG I'd rather empower the players a good bit more than this.

If the PCs do keep poking at witch-hunter, as written they'll eventually they'll activate one of her murder-triggers and she'll try a bone-headed assassination attempt to get rid of them. I say bone-headed because she lacks the necessary action cards (or stats) to have a chance of taking on three or more PCs, and her plan is basically just "wait outside their hotel room until I can shoot them". It's stupid, especially given her position and the resources at her disposal. She could have used her legal powers to condemn the PCs. She could have used her cult connections to curse or corrupt them. Instead, she chooses suicide-by-PC.

So I raided my old first and second edition books (and the seedier corners of my own imagination) to come up with a solid Slaaneshi plot for her to embroil the PCs in. She racked up a bunch of corruption, unleashed some perverted demons at the PCs expense, and escaped with her life and reputation intact. It was pretty twisted, and a little racy, so I'm not gonna go into details here. It's not the sort of thing you'd want to just spring on your play group unless you had a really good idea of where people's boundaries were.

Returning to my previous theme, if I'd realized then that the adventure is meant to be a dark comedy, then in that context it would have been fine for her to make an inept suicidal attack. I would have just brainstormed something slapstick to have punch up the goofiness in the middle of the fight, and a ridiculous monologue to hang a lampshade on it.

A Thousand Dwarves Cried Out, and Were Suddenly Silenced


One last minor gripe about Book Two: the Middenhiem description and map is really vague and minimal. So I broke out Ashes of Middenheim from 2nd Ed. It's set roughly 6 months to a year AFTER the timeline of 3rd Ed's The Enemy Within. It is shocking how much 3rd Ed left out. My favorite example is about Dwarves. In 2nd Ed, Middenhiem has a thriving Dwarven community that's been there for generations and has several prominent institutions and guilds that interact with the humans. In 3rd Ed, there's "almost no permanent dwarf presence in Middenhiem".  I corrected that bizarre oversight, worked in a subplot about Dwarven Hospitality, and added several other bits of flavor from Ashes of Middenhiem to help fill out the Book Two slump.

With that, let's meander over towards Book Four



Expressionist Chaos

The four Books that comprise The Enemy Within for 3rd Ed are all over the map in terms of plot and tone.

Book One is wonderful mystery opener, and does an amazing job of establishing a sense of place and community. The fun scenes happen on a timeline that's about realism, not traditional narrative tropes. It can be a little disorienting, and have a minor hiccup or two, but it's great. You can't solve the mystery here, but it'll set up the groundwork to revive the cold case in a later book.

Book Two is rather a mess, as mentioned previously. There's some interesting religion vs chaos themes being explored, but it suffers from the fault of not giving player agency and decisions much weight.

Book Three is tight and taut. The plot barrels along, and there's rarely time to think. It's not only cinematic, but also honestly hilarious. There's some great comedic material there, followed by a gripping, all-or-nothing, climactic battle.

Book Four is another beast entirely. The plot is very linear, but simultaneously incomprehensible. That's actually fitting, as the entire plot takes place in Warhammer's equivalent of Hell. It's an optional epilogue, where the PCs know exactly what they want to accomplish, but not how to do it or what to expect when they get there.

The plot focuses on rarely seen places and themes of the setting. Lesser-known aspects of the Ruinous Powers come to the forefront.
  • Tzeentch is best known as the God of Trickery and Witchcraft... but the adventure also explores his role as the God of Ambition and Schemes.
  • Slaanesh is best known as the God of Debauchery and Perversion... but the adventure also explores his role as the God of Dance and Physical Perfection... and God of Gluttony.
  • Nurgle is best known the God of Disease and Filth... but the adventure also explores his role as the God of Despair and Sloth.
  • Only the depiction of Khorne remains true to his simplest and most famous attributes. Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne! Rage for the sake of bloody-minded rage.
Giving "screen time" to these lesser-known aspects of the Chaos Gods is pretty darned cool. Unfortunately, that screen time for both Slaanesh and Nurgle risks getting lost in the wash if the PCs are wary or in a hurry. Tzeentch as Ambition-Dealer is covered repeatedly in the adventure, and works well. Slaanesh as Lord of Dance gets a quick spotlight that most likely devolves into combat instead of exploring the theme more thoroughly. Slaanesh as Gluttony didn't even happen with my group, because the players were in such a hurry to escape they never got near the banquet. I was able to cram in Nurgle as Despair though, despite the PCs being in a hurry, and I was pleased with that. Plus, we had a memorable discussion with a Great Unclean One about just how generous and charitable Nurgle was. Nurgle gives, my friends. He gives and he gives, from the bottom of his gut.

Impressionist Chaos

Book Four is either a triumph of dreamy world-building, or a garbled mess as incomplete as Book Two, depending on how you look at it. The laws of physics change around the players, and nothing is what it seems. It's a fun place for the GM to improvise. Think of it as a big tone-poem, or a dream sequence with consequences. There is a small problem with Form following Function following Form eating it's own tail. Like Book Two, parts of Book Four are a little underdeveloped, though given the setting of Book Four you can almost forgive it.

To some extent this is understandable, as well, for monetary reasons. It's the optional Epic-level Epilogue at the end of a very long campaign. While the first three Books have crazy tonal variations, that at least all take place on the same planet. Raids into Hell and back may "not feel like WFRP" to some groups, and you need very powerful characters to have a chance of survival. So only a very small number of players will ever face this chapter. As a result, FFG seems to have tried to save a little money here by cutting corners.

The adventure doesn't come with nearly enough stand-ups for the numerous daemons of every variety, and it only has four Location cards for the whole chapter. To put that in context, I could easily make a case for needing no less than 13 Location cards for Book Four, with 6 of them being inside the huge constantly changing Castle of Tzeentch. There are individual fights with 20+ non-henchmen demons of the same type, and it's hard to represent that on tabletop when a complete set of everything they've ever printed only includes 2 tokens of nearly every daemon type.

The encounters have clearly had little to no playtesting for balance. So while I was constantly upgrading the quality and number of opponents that my large and combat-focused party faced in the first 3/4 of the campaign, once I got to Chaos I repeatedly cut down on the numbers of the monsters. I still killed one PC and got close a few times on the others. If I'd been inclined to end the whole thing in anticlimactic failure just inside the gates of hell, it would have been trivially easy to do so.

The trick is that there's a war of attrition going on, and if the players aren't cautious they'll find themselves nibbled to death. Healing methods in the game are usually limited to once per target per day, but the otherworldly skies in Book Four have no sun at all and the adventures don't have time to dawdle. You'll get one first aid check after each fight, but other than that you run out of healing options very quickly. My group stocked up on Healing Draughts and Medicines before entering the rift, but after the first fight with Khorne's hounds,  all the remaining bottles were just excess weight with no purpose. Since First Aid is limited by your Toughness, any would past the 4th or 5th taken in a battle cannot be repaired. There's potentially as many as 14 battles in this book, if the PCs don't actively try to avoid fights. Some of those conflicts are against foes of immense power, or huge hordes of lesser demons. The math of it all will wear down the toughest PCs.

Just as the PCs are almost certainly unprepared for the scope of what they'll be facing, the GM is under-equipped for running it all. I don't just mean stand-up tokens and location cards. I'm talking monster stats that are missing entirely. Some examples of incomplete combat stats that you don't want to discover at the table:
  • This is almost a direct quote for the stats on the ghostly librarian: "If you have access to the creature vault, use the stats from monster A, but with the following bonuses. If you _don't_ have the creature guide, use the stats from monster B from the core-set instead, but with a different set of stat bonuses and this extra power that, by the way, is also from the creature guide. Don't worry, we'll also hide it in a sidebar on a different page of this book that you may have already skipped past without noticing. Good freakin' luck."
  • There's an animated stuffed crocodile (it's in the room with a ton of subtle Disney film references) that as Strength 5, DR 5, Toughness 5 and Wounds 15. It gets two manoeuvres per turn. No other stats are provided. So I guess that means Defense 0? That's pretty rare that a monster would have neither Defense nor Armor ratings. With neither those nor an A/C/E budget, it's not likely to survive past the first attack. Does it have the special abilities of a beast, an undead, or both?  And what happens if the PCs try an Action against it that's opposed by the target's Willpower? They only gave us 1/3 of what you need to run a monster in this system. The GM will need to make something up there.
  • There's two different encounters where the monsters get random reinforcements each turn, from a pool of 6 different monster types (and zero overlap between these two encounters), some of which come from other random supplements you may or may not have. Anyone who's GM'd this game knows that it's really hard to run more than 2 monster types in one fight. Each monster type basically has its own deck of cards, and three piles of tokens. If the fight runs to a third round with those sorts of reinforcements coming in to play you've run out of table space.
So, GMs, if you're gonna run Book Four, you'll need to do more prep work than it took for the other parts. I suggest try running a dry run of each fight for yourself. Run one round of each battle in advance all by yourself so you can catch all the subtle hidden problems before they bite you during actual play.

My First Job Was Programming Binary Load Lifters

One of the best elements of the 3rd Ed WFRP system is the non-binary dice system, where every action has at least 4 possible results, and most have around 64 different meaningful result variations. There's the pass/fail axis, plus the boon/bane axis, either of which can have many degrees of variation, plus the possibilities of comets, chaos stars, delays and exertion.

That's the core of this system...and yet Book Four is packed full of Binary rolls. A check to see if you fall for an illusion or mind control should NEVER be binary pass-fail in this system. Those sorts of effects scream out for bane and chaos star results. If you pass with banes you should retain your free will but still suffer penalties on certain action types because your senses or emotions are conflicted.

That, plus all the random charts for resolving Castle Tzeentch feels like Book Four may have been originally written for a different system -- probably 2nd Edition -- and given a hasty conversion to 3rd Ed.

The Return Of The King

Have you ever seen The Return of the King? Remember how it fades to black like 50 freaking times as the last hour of the movie teases you with the promise of actually ending? Hope you didn't get a big soda with your movie ticket. Book Four does the same thing.

The PCs think they've escaped, but it's all an illusion created by Tzeentch. If they fall for it, there's plenty of opportunity for their ambition to enslave or corrupt them. If they figure it out and resist, they can break free of that world, only to end up in an illusion created by Slaanesh. Then you break free of that, and end up in an illusion created by Nurgle. You break free again, and you're finally home, but then Khornate daemons attack. If you survive that fight, you get the real epilogue.

Trying to time your last session is really hard. If you reach the Tzeentch illusion late in the session, the players will assume the campaign is over, and be more inclined to except little discrepancies because they're trying to rap up all the plot-threads in a narrative hand wave. So they fail and lose their souls because they were trying to help you "stick the ending" of the campaign. Oops. If you stop just before the illusion, you'll raise suspicions and that's almost as bad. No one wants an entire session of tidying-up, "so why don't we just play an extra 15 minutes tonight to wrap up the whole campaign?" is what they'll ask you. Basically, the campaign is 2 to 6 hours longer than the players think it is, and you'll "ruin the surprise" / "give them an unearned victory" if you let on about it. That's fine if you game on a Friday or Saturday and no one minds running past time, not so great if you game on a weeknight and some of your players rely on catching the bus.

My advice:
Leave off with the players passing through a door in Castle Tzeentch. Don't tell them what's in the room they arrive at, leave that for next week. Then start the final session in the Torture Room. Keep it brief, and make it seem like monstrous reinforcements are on their way. With any luck, the PCs will activate the gem and bail as fast as they can... leaving you several hours left in your normally scheduled session to run what should normally be less than an hour of wrap-up and epilogue. Then proximity to the end of the session won't make them ignore clues, and proximity to the start of the session won't make them doubt it, because they didn't know prior to the session that it was going to be the final chapter. Ideally, you'd end the session just after the PCs figure out that it's a Tzeentch illusion, but before they've escaped it. They'll have a week to brainstorm and worry about escape routes. At the start of the next session, give them a good chase scene or fight as the illusion crumbles around them, and ideally dump them in the Slaanesh world after roughly an hour of adventure so again you're not too close to the start nor end of the night. They'll take less time getting out of Slaanesh land, and hardly any time with Nurgle, and then can either can wrap up there, or leave off with them assuming this must be a Khorne illusion when it isn't (so you'd end up with one more session that would actually be shorter than normal).

That's _not_ what I did, but I foolishly thought I could cram through all 3 illusions in one session. Instead, it was an unintentionally double-length session and everyone left really late. Depending on your group, that might not be so good.



Well, that got a lot of the rant out of my system. I may revisit the topic if I dream up some better solutions to any problems I glossed over here, but for the most part I've unleashed my own personal Enemy Within and am ready to move on.

Again, I liked the campaign enough to run 50+ sessions, despite all the flaws. Overall, there's more good than bad there.

Monday, December 22, 2014

All of our wars have now been thoroughly hammered

Late last night, my play group completed the last session of our Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay (3rd Edition) campaign. It was an epic session, of nearly double our normal length, but the thrills and reveals were so engaging none of us realized how late it had gotten until we were already 3 hours past our usual quitting time.

Of the four PCs in the campaign, one died and another contracted Nurgle's Rot, two became mutants, and two gained permanent insanities. No one escaped completely unscathed, but the party Wizard avoided all the worst of the consequences that befell her comrades. At great personal cost the group accomplished all their goals, however, saving the Empire from existential calamity (and preserving the personal fortune and family name of the PC whose father was secretly the big bad).

I was running The Enemy Within for 3rd Edition, expanded a little with some content from the 2nd Edition books for certain cities, and further enriched by some great sub-plot material the players brought to the game with their engaging character backgrounds. We played this campaign for over 50 sessions, lasting nearly two years (minus a few short breaks here and there for vacations and/or medical reasons).

I would now like to share a few thoughts, observations, and GM-ing advice specific to this campaign. I've had a love-hate relationship with this game and this campaign for a while now. There's tons of stuff I admire and enjoy in both, but some rough edges and pot holes that have been driving me crazy for months now.



***SPOILER WARNING: the following contains MAJOR SPOILERS for The Enemy Within (for 3rd Edition WFRP)***    

 If you are playing in The Enemy Within currently, or think there's any reasonable chance you'll be a player in it in the future, you should turn back now. The SPOILERS that follow will ruin major plot points and mysteries.


Playing for Laughs

The adventure is split into four "books" that each deal with a separate region, and all the many plots and mysteries that the players get tangled up in while on a mission in that region. You start in Averheim, then travel to Middenheim and Altdorf, and then, if you use the optional fourth book, the plot takes you to the Chaos Wastes and back again. It's a 200 page book, the last 1/4 of it is an optional epilogue, and it's all very compartmentalized and broken up geographically. So I imagine quite a few GMs start prepping for the campaign by thoroughly reading the first book, while only giving the last three books a light skim for major plot points.

Here's the most important thing that you might miss if, as GM, you focus mostly on that first book initially:  this adventure is a comedy.

In book three, that comedic nature becomes very obvious. The book has a subsection called "A Farce In The Fog", which offers GMing advice on how to catch the correct tone. Specifically, a light-hearted, satirical, comedy of errors.

At a casual read, it's easy to assume this advice, buried so deep in the book, is meant only for that one day of the character's lives, a few frantic scenes of comic relief right before the big climax of the non-optional storylines.

In hindsight, that really should be the tone of the campaign overall. The advice should not come on page 147, it should be on page 5. There are numerous points in the campaign where the plot hinges on some NPC making a poor decision. Nobles being impractical, out-of-touch, ambitious and callous. City watch being ineffective or outright corrupt. Great scholars failing to note fatal flaws in their application of metaphysical theory. Witch-hunters running kangaroo courts to satisfy their own personal passions. GMs might assume they are meant to play this straight-faced, grim and gritty. Doing so will seem satisfying at first, but result in a weird disconnect where a veneer of cynical realism sits atop a core of gross incompetence. From the start of the campaign, the only people making smart decisions are the big-bad and maybe the PCs. Regardless of their actual success rate, the players will eventually feel that they and the Black Cowl (the villain) are the only competent characters in the entire setting. PCs as "big damn hero" empowered protagonists is refreshingly better than some GM's-Pet-NPC-Ex-Machina, it will at times strain ones disbelief and make the players feel contempt for everyone (except perhaps the villain). That's less than ideal for a serious work of gritty realism, but perfect for a Shakespearean Comedy or a black satire.

If I had to do it all over again, I would note all the little moments of ridiculous incompetence or jaded cynicism in the plotline, and dial them up to 11. If you hit those hard (and early on) I think you can improve the experience for the players.

Let's look at book one. When Clothilda Von Alptraum hatches a ridiculous scheme to needlessly imperil herself and her diamonds for the outside chance that the PCs will capture a highwayman, that should feel like a punchline, not a plot hole.

A few pages later the PCs are hired as security for a big celebration that is almost certainly going to be marred by at least one murder and a theft even if the PCs do everything perfectly. Yet the later plot hinges on the person who hired them as security deciding to employ them again on a vital long-distance mission with zero supervision. That works in a comedy of errors, but not so much in a realistic drama. Any sensible employer in the real world would fire them and recruit some other band of mercenaries. Killers, thugs, and messengers are a dime a dozen in the Old World.

For the most part, my GMing instincts kicked in in the heat of the moment to save scenes that would have otherwise imploded. Mostly, I played up the right bits for humor once I noticed that my players were starting to get contemptuous or incredulous at the NPCs and situations in any given scene. Then having patched over the immediate problem with a good joke or bit of exaggerated characterization, I would generally return to trying to portray the setting as grim, serious and realistic. If only that tonal advice on page 147 were earlier and more prominent, I would have had a more consistently-flavored campaign.

Don't get me wrong, Book One (and the campaign as a whole) is for the most part brilliant. There's some really clever plot developments, and memorable scenes and situations. It just could have been better if there'd been more overt advice up front about playing things up for satirical yucks. Like I said, page 5 (and in bold) not page 147.

The campaign (like the main boxed set and core-rules) assumes your party is three characters with random starting careers and thus unlikely to be very proficient in combat. It's not impossible that your party could consist of a dockhand, a courtier and a rat-catcher.

Instead, my group had a trollslayer, a fire mage, a knight, and a priest of the God of Thieves. Three of the characters were die-hard bad-asses, and the two very mathematically-inclined players had a bit of a rivalry about how much damage they could dish out.

So every time a fight scene came up, I upgraded the bad guys to give my players a meaningful challenge and keep the setting dark and perilous. It seemed necessary, as my players had probably 250% of the firepower the module assumed. I don't regret that decision, despite the time and effort it took (both in pre-game prep-time and in longer battles at the table). Them being so potent is largely my fault. I let them choose their starting careers (instead of using the recommended random draw) and I knew that I was inviting the sort of players to the game that would quickly master the system and figure out how to get the most out of their XP. My friends are really smart, and they like to win. That's cool.

I had another option, though, and the thing is, I didn't even realize it. Because it is a comedy of errors, there was no need for the fights to be challenging. They could have been speed-bumps and slapstick cakewalks. Heck, thanks to the ridiculousness of the chaos-star lines on some terrain cards, there were occasional slapstick moments in battle. One PC fell into the river like three times. In another fight much later, the knight fell off his horse in two consecutive turns. If I'd embraced the craziness of those mechanics and played the campaign as a comedy, those moments would been hilarious. Instead, because most of the game was so serious, that those failures felt jarringly awkward. I made house-rules and decisions to prevent them from recurring, but in the process I really toned down the mechanics that make 3rd Ed's funky dice so interesting.

If I'd embraced the comedic nature of the game and not dialed up the fights, I bet the campaign would have been done in 20 sessions, not 50. We spent a lot of time resolving combats, and the PCs felt so imperiled that they frequently slowed down their investigation to proceed with caution. While that's perfectly fitting for Warhammer, it's not necessarily what the authors of The Enemy Within had in mind.

Man, that's a lot of words for a single complaint that's not really a complaint. Like I said, I don't regret the campaign, I just wish I'd realized earlier that there was another option. Had I internalized page 147 a year earlier than I did, the campaign would have felt a lot more cohesive and even, and I would have saved myself a lot of work. It might have been a much better game, or maybe just different as opposed to better. I don't know.


Background Cards

The Enemy Within introduced a new mechanic called Background Cards that is probably one of the main reasons why GMs read the first chapter and fall in love with the campaign.

Each player gets one of these 6 cards, which provides you with plot-hooks for your new character. There's a series of questions on the cards that the player gets to answer. These will color and inform the setting, and connect that PC to various NPCs and subplots in Book One. As a reward for answering those questions, the PC gets a small stat boost, and a very potent once-per-session special power derived to which of the 6 broad character concepts they chose.  I rewrote parts of the adventure based on the player's answers, even changing the main mystery so that the Big Bad was now the abusive father from one of the PC's background.

These Background Cards are so cool! I will almost certainly steal the concept for use in other games and campaigns in the future. The cards united the PCs right out of the gates, and established setting and characterization details before we'd played a single session. Amazing.

That said, I later realized these cards don't go far enough. They're a great start, but there's a couple places where they fall short.

For starters, they only tie you in to Book One. Every PC starts out well-connected in Averhiem, having answered multiple questions about local NPCs. But then later the plot of Book Two takes you to Middenheim. Just 1 of the 6 Background cards includes a direct link to an NPC in Middenheim. Just one. And none of the Backgrounds tie in to characters introduced in Book Three at all (though to be fair, 4 of the NPCs from Book One do show up again in Book Three). So you've done all this cool world-building that anchors your characters to Averhiem, and then you abandon all that collaborative world-building for 1/3 to 1/2 of the adventure.

Even in Book One, there's a missed opportunity with the NPCs Curd Weiss and Graf Von Kaufman. Von Kaufman is the guy who wants to hire the PCs for security at the party, and to escort Clothilda and her diamonds, and to run another big errand that is the majority of the plot of Book Two. It's vital that the PCs end up working for this guy. Per the scenario notes eventually Von Kaufman sends his agent Curd Weiss to find the PCs and offer them a job. Several of the Background Cards have subtle links to Von Kaufman, via his business the Red Arrow Coaching Inn, or the academic group The Sun Society which meets at one of his Inns. So once these NPCs contact the PCs, it's likely that's enough of a background connection for the PCs to accept the job offer (especially since there's a cash reward). The problem is there's only the most tenuous implication in the cards or the scenario notes for how and why these NPCs ever hear about the PCs. Not a problem if the PCs are high-profile doing heroic things around town... but that's not guaranteed.

The plot needs Curd Weiss to seek out the PCs on the third day of the campaign. If the PCs spent the first two days quietly gathering clues or attending to personal subplots (as my players did) then there's no explicit reason for Weiss or Von Kaufman to even know they exist. So when Curd Weiss shows up with a job proposal, it comes across as very arbitrary and a little suspicious. This could have been solved easily by mentioning Weiss by name on a couple of the Background Cards and asking the PC what sort of unusual problem-solving they'd done for him previously.

The last place where the Background Cards fail is in the event of needing replacement characters later in the campaign. All 6 cards tie you in to Book One, but what if a PC dies and needs replacing in Middenheim or Altdorf? I realize there's printer costs and page count limits on what was already a large and expensive campaign, but it sure would have been smart for the module to include a couple of mid-campaign replacement Background cards that linked the new PC to the group but gave some inkling of why this old friend was so far from Averhiem. Sure, you could use one of the existing cards at this point, but the questions would no longer be as relevant and you'd be limited in how you could answer them now that the setting's been known and explored for several sessions.

As it turned out, our only PC death was late enough in our campaign that it didn't matter. We were two sessions from completion when he went down and basically journeying through Hell, so the "dead" character could just stand back up and help his friends escape the underworld. He himself was doomed to keel over again when they left, but he was only out of the action for a short time. He got three death scenes in total, and still played to the very end.


Intuition Checks and The Black Cowl

This is a small quibble about the scenario, but it's a critical one.

The adventure has the PCs trying to figure out the identity of The Black Cowl, an Averhiem-based criminal mastermind who later in the story tries to take over (or destroy) the Empire.  To keep the big mystery from being spoiled on the internet, the adventure provides three best options for who The Black Cowl is, and lets the GM choose between them, or even provides a few paragraphs on adapting the adventure to making just about any other NPC be the secret Big Bad. It's pretty cool.

It's a largely cerebral mystery adventure, with a lot of interviews/talking and a bit of investigative legwork.

Many of the "scheduled" conversations with NPCs in the campaign include bullet points or boxed dialog coaching the GM on what those NPCs should say. Many of these sample dialog responses include statements to use if the PCs ask any given NPC about The Black Cowl.  So far, so good.

The weird thing is that quite a few of the NPCs have officially never heard of the Black Cowl prior to the PCs asking about him. This includes most of the likely candidates for the Black Cowl's secret identity.

This wouldn't be a problem except that the game has built-in lie-detector mechanics. The "Intuition" skill can be used, per the rules, to suss out whether or not someone is lying. So if the PCs ask their suspects "what do you know about The Black Cowl?" and the answer they get is "I've never heard of him" they can make a simple die roll to see if that's BS.  Nearly every NPC in the adventure will answer that way, the few who don't are really clearly not suspects (as they're usually his victims). These are opposed checks vs the stats of the NPC being interviewed. The innocent NPCs have no reason to lie, and as written know nothing about the villain. They also typically have low enough Fellowship scores to set the difficulty at around 80% success if even one PC has a strong Intelligence rating and asks that simple question.

The villain himself won't fall to this, as he can avoid lying by sharing things about his own reputation, and he or she gets a big upgrade to their own mental stats. So you won't pinpoint in-character who the villain is this way. But you will handily eliminate the vast majority of suspects, and know that only one major NPC had ever even heard of the bad guy. That's not really "admissible in court" but when has that ever stopped Player Characters?

Even worse, they'll know out-of-character that the difficulty for lie detecting nearly everyone was 1 to 2 purple dice and maybe 1 to 2 black dice. Except the one guy that did know a little about The Black Cowl. When we tried an Intuition check on him (on some statement that seemed mildly suspicious, but isn't as conclusive as "I know nothing about the criminal or his crimes"), the difficulty shot up to 4 or 5 purple and 2 to 3 black dice (or more if they spend A/C/E). The best player in the world would have a hard time not being influenced by the information in those dice pools.

Easiest solution here is to override the boxed text. Decide that all the major suspects have heard at least rumors about The Black Cowl, and/or pick one to be a minor accomplice or a blackmail victim who has something to hide. Then you can have multiple characters be evasive when questioned, and spend A/C/E on those rolls to cloak the dice disparity.

Alternately, you could secretly roll the difficulty dice, apply hidden modifiers, or engage in other mechanical shenanigans to obfuscate the player's ability to know their characters success rates. I discussed a related topic in depth a year ago, in Brainstorming About Observation Checks.  Given how many resources established PCs have to modify their own rolls (Fortune Points, Human once-per-session boost, rerolls from blessings/spells/runes/gambler-ability/etc, bonuses from Assist Another, etc) it strikes me as a little unfair to hide difficulty unless it's really necessary (which it kind of is at one point in Book Four, but we'll get to that). If the player knew the actual difficulty, they'd throw more dice at it. That's some murky grey area, though, and I'd avoid it whenever possible.


Same Hammer-Time, Same Hammer-Channel


This post is getting a little long, and I'm only about half way done with my rant. I'm going to stop here for today, and tomorrow blog a few thousand more words about other parts of The Enemy Within that I feel could use some polishing or revision.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Now Entering Book 4

Major SPOILER Warning for "The Enemy Within"

After a 2-month break from my Warhammer campaign for summer vacations, we returned these past two Sundays to the second half of Book 3 of The Enemy Within. The big climactic battle against The Black Cowl and his demonic and human minions took nearly two whole sessions, with the player’s success and survival both in doubt the entire time. Two PCs went down, but were revived in time to rejoin the fight and turn the tide of battle. All four PCs spent a large portion of the conflict heavily wounded and one-hit away from disaster. A single bad die roll or suboptimal decision could have wrecked them at numerous points in the action, but they pulled together with some great teamwork and tactics to squeak out a well-earned narrow victory. Good job!

Ranald's Sign
I gotta say, for being self-centered untrustworthy pacifists, Priests of Ranald are surprising powerhouses that actually make great allies. The “X marks the Spot” blessing was constantly giving the PCs the leg up on the various mystery plots throughout the campaign, but it had nothing on “Bamboozle” in the final sessions of the earthly plotline. That little one-turn mind-control spell saved the day twice, despite the many restrictions   printed on the card. Another single-xp character power that really saved the party was the “Cool As Ice” talent. Socketed into the Party Card, that talent allowed players to recharge actions every time they suffered Stress… and there are an insane number of stress-inducing powers, monsters, and macguffins in that final conflict.

Not that anyone failed to carry their own weight. The Slayer laid down the axe-related pain again and again, and delivered the final blow to The Black Cowl himself. The Bright Wizard made short (and smouldering) work of Bischoff's death squad that was waiting in ambush. The Knight rode his steed up a staircase and trampled down the demons that were about to kill his badly-wounded comrades. In the previous session the group collectively managed to defuse the bombs that were going to kill thousands of as-innocent-as-you-can-be-in-Warhammer citizens. Lots of great heroic moments all around. Everyone has reason to be proud.

"I'm Not Batman" - whispered throatily
The Black Cowl is defeated, but he’s left a gaping hole in reality in his wake. The PCs have chosen to enter it, and attempt to seal the breach from the other side. The next few sessions will be a literal trip to hell.

So who was The Black Cowl? That would be Peczold Von Engler, the father of one of the PCs.  The players dreamt him up during character creation, while filling in backstories and deciding on a Party Card. Their intention was that they were creating a minor subplot villain just to add some flavor, but I ran with it and subtly warped the entire campaign around him. The adventure provides the GM with 3 obvious choices to be the Big Bad, lays out the plot twists necessary depending on that decision, and then spends a few paragraphs giving advice on how you might adapt other NPCs to fill the role. I had to make a lot of tweaks to things happening behind the scenes, but those rolling alterations actually helped keep me from getting bored with the lengthy published scenario over the long haul. The character swap worked rather well, as the fact that clearly wasn’t in the published adventure in the first place helped throw them off his trail and keep the mystery running for so many sessions. He rose to power, getting himself declared the Elector-Count of Averland and Hero of the Empire, all while running a massive criminal empire and heading up two different cults. He would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for those meddling kids and their scrappy horse undoing all his evil plans (and then sticking an axe in his head).


Friday, September 12, 2014

Summer Disruptions - and OMG the summer is over, isn't it?!?

Back in Albuquerque, the summers were so hot that they had no impact on gaming. Sitting inside with a cold drink and few friends under the "swamp cooler" is a great way to spend a weekend when you live in a desert where there's next to nothing to do.  We gamed all summer long, and rarely missed a session.

It's just not like that here in Seattle. There's a million things happening in town every weekend, and you desperately want to get outside for the couple months where it's not necessarily raining. Even if you do feel like being indoors and geeky, there's usually some sort of major geek-friendly event going on in town, many of them based out of air-conditioned hotels and convention centers. Which meant that all my RPG campaigns went on hold for a couple months as everybody had scheduling conflicts. During that time, I served on the staff of two gaming conventions and then headed up the coast to a hippy-gypsy-circus near the border. Crazy times.

But now it's mid-September, and... Holy Crap! I need to be ready to GM Warhammer 3rd again on Sunday! Two months without building a dice pool, micromanaging A/C/E, or pouring over my copious notes about the plot...  I fear it's gonna be a painful session trying to get back into the swing of the rather crunchy system. We're deep into Book 3 of The Enemy Within, and I have to be ready to run the climactic final battle should my players push in that direction this weekend. Eek!  If you need me, I'll be buried under the cards and tokens having a last-minute panic attack. Which one of these NPCs was The Black Cowl, again?

Monday, July 7, 2014

Push 'Em Off The Pier

Here's an NPC action I made for my Warhammer Campaign. It's very situational, only any good for staging a brawl on the docks.






The card also hasn't been tested at all, so I make no promises about it. The PCs in my campaign short-circuited the encounter before the henchmen could even show up. They dropped the villain to within 2 wounds of a KO before he could act (or call for help), and then shot him again after he surrendered.

My plan had been to use the "Overboard!" card from the Dreadfleet Captains POD expansion as the "new terrain card" mentioned on the triple-success line, but you might choose a less daunting card if your water isn't quite so deep and fast.

MINOR SPOILER ALERT: The above card is very loosely based off an encounter from The Enemy Within, and to a lesser extent the Grapple card from the core set. I scaled it back considerably from the effects of the opposed Athletics rolls on page 132 of TEW because the original tests were a bit over the top. In the adventure, the NPCs only needed a single success to automatically knock a PC out of the fight. This meant a simple Ruffian NPC with 1 Expertise had a 30% chance of effectively one-shotting a min-maxed melee-oriented PC and as high as an 80% chance of doing the same to the party's wizard or other low-strength character. I know the game is pretty deadly, but those numbers seemed un-fun. My version cuts those numbers down to 7% and 20%.  (GM's who feel I'm going too easy on the PCs could change the triple-success line to a double-success line to set the numbers at a more threatening 16% and 63%.)


Friday, June 27, 2014

Middenheim NPC Cards

SPOILER ALERT: This blog post reveals plot points and NPC stats for The Enemy Within for Warhammer FRP 3rd Edition. If you're a warhammer player and haven't already completed Book 2 of that adventure, you should probably skip this post.

This weekend my play group reunites for some more Warhammery goodness after about a month-long break. We're on Book Three of The (New) Enemy Within, which takes place in Altdorf. Since we've left Book Two behind, I can safely post a few GM's aids I put together for the Middenheim section.

The rest of this post is mostly NPC stat cards for plot-relevant characters (plus a few other related bits). The adventure really should have come with cards for all of these characters, but (probably for budgetary concerns) didn't. It's especially annoying because the index of monster and NPC stats at the back of the adventure doesn't include them either. For reasons that completely boggle my mind, it only includes stats for NPCs from Books 1, 3, and 4. As a matter of fact, many of the important NPCs in Book 2 lack stats entirely, or list only the difficulty to sway them with a Fellowship check and leave any further interactions up to GM improvisation.


NPCs for "The Wizard's Task" in Book 2
Let's start with a gaggle of Ulrichian Priests:

 Acting High Priest Weiss is the guy you really want to talk to.  He appears on pages 89-90 of The Enemy Within, but doesn't really have stats there other than those specifically pertaining to the social rolls needed to sway him to the cause. I filled in the rest of his stats as befits a career official in one of the most macho cults in the empire. The art for the card I screenshot-ed out of some fan supplement for Warhammer Fantasy Battles, but I'm afraid I've lost track of where that came from or who the artist was. My bad.

 Unfortunately, getting to Weiss is complicated because he has a number of gatekeepers in the way.  Priest Frost is the more capable and sympathetic of the two. I based his stats on the generic Priest card, which I then upgraded a little to represent that he was an up-and -coming Priest before his tragic accident (the lingering effects of which I loosely based on the rules on page 14 of Liber Carnagia).

Priest Albrecht, the first gatekeeper the PCs encounter, is not sympathetic at all. He is likely to be played as either annoying or farcical, depending on the GM's whim. Correspondingly, he's actually a down-graded version of the NPC Priest card. I never saved nor used the art for the other side of the card, as it was far too manly and competent looking for the character as written up. Instead, when I went to introduce the character to the players I used a Paizo Gamemastery "Face Card" that showed some old fat guy in robes.

To even get an audience with the Priests the PCs first have to meet up with Professor Robertus von Oppenheim. There's a good chance the players will haul him off on a wolf-hunt, so he needed stats and again the adventure doesn't really provide any. I considered giving him some dreadful "2" ratings in attributes, but was worried it would make him too likely to die and stall out the plot. I decided instead to simply make his stats very average with modifiers depending on his access to reference materials. This resulted in the PCs carrying around an amusingly large stack of books to help him out, so I consider it a success. Again I used a card from Paizo as a visual aide for the players. I find their face cards extremely helpful as reminders, especially when running a complicated scenario with as large a cast as The Enemy Within.


NPCs for "The Noble's Task" in Book 2
 One of the other major plotlines going on in the adventure involves the trial of Graf von Aschenbeck, so I made cards for him and his daughter. His cards (and most of what follows) are devoid of artwork, because by this point I'd decided to just use Paizo cards for all my remaining major NPCs. I made the Graf's stats deliberately underwhelming since he's effectively just filling the "damsel in distress" role. The rules for Noble Rank presented here aren't technically correct (or at least are a liberal interpretation), but they're close enough for NPCs and somewhat more elegant than what's in the Lure Of Power rulebook. The other special ability is of functionally identical to having socketed one of the least practical Talent cards in the game.
Chances are I'm mistakenly applying the Freiin title to Margarete, I don't claim to be an expert on the noble titles of Germany, the Holy Roman Empire, or the Warhammer Empire. Sadly she's a relatively minor bit of set-dressing / clue-giver / damsel-in-distress / red herring, without much depth. In retrospect I wish the scenario did more with her.

The red image here is my interpretation of the von Aschenbeck crest as described in the book, useful for marking the Graf's properties and businesses, and for marking the Bravos when they first show up.
The lives of those poor nobles above are being ruined by this fellow. He's the weaker of the two villains of Book 2. He's also rather less dangerous than the thugs and mutants he can throw at the PCs if he realizes they're on to him. The adventure is heavily stilted towards him escaping in the night, and I imagine if the PCs got their hands on him it would be a little anticlimactic, as he's a pushover in combat. Good thing there's bigger fish to fry and a Book 3.

Ilse the con-woman is a minor criminal caught up in Markheim's scheme. I only used one of her prepared scenes, personally, as my players were pointed straight at Markheim and the Bravos without her testimony. I was a little torn about whether or not to include the bit where the villain tries to tidy up loose ends. The Bright Wizard in my party could have used the spotlight moment, but stopping the arson/murder would have taken exactly one easy die roll (he has the spell that controls fires and renders them harmless) and thus had zero dramatic tension. For the record, one of the Paizo decks has a perfect Ilse card, but I never used it because it was only going to draw attention to her before the PCs learned she was a baddie. I wanted her to feel improvised and unimportant until the PCs had reason to suspect her, which is probably a dirty meta GM trick on my part. So sue me.
 
The Aschenbeck Bravos are the most legitimate set of goons that Markheim can send after the PCs.
 
The adventure says to use the generic Soldier card with a couple modifications based on equipment and (for the officers) skills trained. I didn't want to have to consult both a card and a page in a book at the same time to run the scene, so I made cards out of them. For all the cultists and mutants I could basically just use pre-existing cards (though I did stack the "Monstrous" Upgrade sheet under the especially leggy Mutant boss), so I didn't feel the need to make cards for them.


NPC for "The Captain's Task" in Book 2


Gregor Helstrum is a potential ally for the PCs, and an escape hatch / safety valve for the GM if things are getting out of hand with Adele or any of the other plots. But again, like so many of the NPCs in Book 2, he has no stats. That's fine if you plan to use him as a Deus Ex Machina, but I wanted to make sure the PCs could fight at his side should that be their intent. (In the end I didn't really need stats for him because the PCs at my table are pretty badass in a fight and also did a good job of following the clues. They put down two entire cults that the adventure script didn't really expect them to get anywhere near, so I was quite proud of them. But, I digress...) His "bad eye" isn't in the book at all. It corresponds to the eyepatch of the Paizo Face Card I used for him, and I think was based on a Critical or Serious wound card, but I don't remember whether I chose the image first and picked a wound to match or dealt a random serious wound and found a face to match it. Either way, GMs who want a less grizzled version of the character can freely ignore it. It's not present in the official picture of Hellstrum on pg 79 of the adventure, but that page has serious spoilers on it so I didn't want to flash it at my players anyway so a Paizo card was in order. Exactly which 2 insanities you attach to his NPC card will greatly color the character. (The same can be said for Adele Ketzenblum, for that matter.) I played Gregor as very shell-shocked and burned-out in the one scene I used him, which probably contributed to the PCs deciding not to ask him for additional help.


In closing:
I think that's all the official Enemy Within Middenheim NPCs that I made cards for. Hopefully they'll save some other GM a bit of work. I clearly had too much time on my hands.


I also made this Talent-sized card based on the Middenlander rules from Hero's Call. In practice it was rarely relevant or needed. I present it as a possible upgrade should the GM desire making the fights a little tougher, or if you really want to emphasize the differences between the various Imperial Provinces.

Beyond the above, I made stat cards for a few more NPCs that weren't in the adventure as written, introduced to give my PCs some spotlight moments and interesting subplots, or to build out the city into something a little more sandboxy and show more of the greater Storm of Chaos metaplot. That's probably worth a whole additional post some other time, as there's a lot of backstory to convey if I want them to be useful to other GMs.





Tuesday, July 16, 2013

What does a brewery look like via Magical Sight?

A few months ago, someone on the Warhammer Forums posed a question asking what the winds of magic look like via the Magical Sight skill. There's a couple minor references in passing to it in various 3rd Ed supplements (page 15 of the Tome of Mysteries, and at points throughout Chapter 3 of the Tome of Magic), but the core book and skill descriptions really aren't helpful at all. I made up an answer on the spot, and then promptly forgot all about it. Yesterday someone reminded me it was a really good answer.
Read the original thread, or just the text of my post repeated here: Magic is described as "winds" so I would have it twist, flow, and move. Each order has it's own color, and associated properties, which I would draw in to the description. Bright Order magic flickering like flames. Jade Order magic taking organic shapes, then drifting like discarded leaves falling ever slowly to earth. Amber magic skittering about like a busy little chipmunk, then suddenly standing stalk-still when it realizes it's being watched.  Amethyst magic forming little skulls or ghostly hooded figures, then slinking off to hide in the shadows. Each order has it's own glyph or sigil, too. Some are basically arrows, so they may blow in a particular direction ceaselessly. Others are represented by concentric circles, so they may orbit or linger more.

For the chaos gods, their magic would seem tainted, but maybe not obviously so. One cool way to do it would be to always start describing it as the nearest "proper" form of magic, and then describe how it's been twisted and distorted almost as an after-thought. Or, if you prefer, more over-the-top. Nurgle magic vomits and oozes, or flits about like ghostly flies. Slaneshi magic keeps making eyes at you, and has some hypnotic rhythm to the patterns of its movements. The magic of Tzeentch the great deciever constantly reimagines itself, cycling through colors and forms in a ways that other magic cannot. Magic done by Beastmen seems feral and adversarial, even long after it's casting. Magic of the Skaven hisses and runs away when directly observed. Ork magic bumbles and cavorts in an unpredictable fashion. I'm just making this up.

One thing I would bear in mind is that magic doesn't really create magical energy, so much as it gives form to and strengthens the magical energy that is already there. On the typical city street of the empire, there will be little wisps of half a dozen different winds blowing at any time. The dead rat in the gutter has beads of Amber on its fur, but as time passes they fade and an Amethyst mist gathers about it. The watchman passing by carries an old lantern hanging disused from his pack. It's not lit at the moment, but has been a thousand times before so with Witchsight you can still see it glow or smoke ever so slightly. His coin purse has only ever held brass or silver coins, but when viewed with Magical Sight it may seem faintly embroidered in gold or yellow. Magic blows, drips, and oozes throughout the Old World. Wizards don't walk around with Magical Sight turned on at every single moment of the day, and at least part of the reason is because it would be terribly distracting to do so.
I think. Like I said, I'm mostly making this up.
I wish they'd reminded me of that post a couple days earlier, because in Sunday's game I sure could have used my own advice and descriptions. One of the PCs in my group (Lina the Bright Wizard / Mystic) activated Magical Sight during an improvised scene. She was in a completely mundane place (a brewery), there were no enchantments in play, the location was only mentioned briefly in passing in the scenario notes with no expectations the PCs would find it, we were late in the session, and there was a totally unrelated potential fight scene across town I was hoping to get to before the session ended. So my response was "Nope, Magical Sight reveals nothing. The place is clean."

Technically accurate, but good only in the sense that it didn't slow down the plot any further.  Here we have a wizard, using their signature ability to see wonderful magical things normal people can't. It's a great opportunity to give that PC the spotlight. A chance to remind the players that magic is bizarre and dangerous and permeates everything in the Warhammer setting. A potential moment to be artsy and descriptive and make the game memorable. I squandered those opportunities in the most boring and workmanlike way possible. "No magic here. Move along." Lame.

Here's what I should have said: 
"The brewery is a minor source of raw magical energy of many colors and flavors. Grains and other harvested plants are brought here, softly leaking a thin haze of jade energy that has magically stained the walls and floors in ways that are only visible to wizards. The constant exposure to this energy has made the weeds along the base of the brewery's outer wall grow just a little taller than similar plants next door. After they arrive, the grains are subjected to chemical processes that transforms them. This alchemical distillation has a Gold Order correspondence, and your gifted eyes can spot tiny drops of yellow energy beading up on every dent, kink or seam of the stills and brew tanks.  Faint golden wagon-ruts appear superimposed on the spots on the floor where the wheels of commerce roll out the door with regular shipments of ale and liquor. The place is damp with energy, but all of it raw and untamed, having never known a wizard's hand."

Pointless and long-winded, perhaps, but it would have made for a better scene and a richer campaign world.

Minor The Enemy Within Spoiler Alert:
Because of the gunpowder that had been spilled inside by the villains (which the PCs didn't know about yet) I could have added to the description: "One thing does strike you as out of place. A tiny bit of Aqshy, the whispered potential of future fire, seeping sluggishly under the crack of the door. It winks at you, slowly and longingly, hoping to catch your eye and unleash the inner spark." Not that player characters ever need an excuse to burn things to the ground, mind you, but it might have been kinda cool.





Monday, July 8, 2013

The Enemy Within - Campaign Log - Part 6 - Session 5 - Day 4

SPOILER ALERT: This is the campaign log for the new The Enemy Within for Warhammer 3rd Ed. Most of this is early stuff (day 4 of the adventure) but 1 paragraph in particular reveals things from much further into the scenario as written. If you haven't played that far yourself, consider this fair warning. Here be SPOILERS.

I wrote this nearly a month ago, and never got around to formatting and publishing it. Even then it was late and untimely. These notes are 6 sessions (and more than 2 full months) behind. Man, have I been lazy and unfocused lately.

PC List/Reminder:
    •    Burgolt the Nobleman Pistolier
    •    Hrulgar the Dwarven Runesmith
    •    Ninewise the Initiate of Ranald
    •    Lina the Bright Wizard



This session alternated between solid plot advancement and bitter frustration. There were some reasonably good character moments, and one heck of a fight. However, every single scene was either slow to start, or got kicked in the teeth by one eccentricity or another of the Warhammer system.
Love the setting, but Love/Hate the mechanics.

Day 4 begins with a business meeting between the PCs and Sir Curd Weiss, personal agent of Graf Friedrich von Kaufman.

Sir Curd Weiss Sidebar: Per the scenario notes, Weiss is a veteran of the Pistolkorps, but there's no mention of him every becoming a Knight. Just before the session in question, one of my players mentioned that she was probably going to aim for Knighthood as her 2nd or 3rd Career. Her character, Burgolt, is already a nobleman and a Pistolier, and the career cards mention that most Knightly Orders recruit heavily from the Pistolkorps.  She had a lot of questions about how one qualifies for knighthood, and whether or not there were any opportunities in the scenario to impress (or even interact with) any existing knights.

This lead to a conversation about the Knightly Orders, and I broke out the Omens of War book to reference the details. We got as far as the Knights of the Blazing Sun, whose background seemed like a good fit for Burgolt. As it turns out, their colors are black and either gold or yellow, and their symbol is a stylized sun. Just like the coat of arms of the von Kaufman family, and the device emblazoned on Curd Weiss's outfit in his picture. Admittedly, that also describes the sign of The Grand County of Averland in general… but it was certainly a noteworthy coincidence. Especially since I knew that the very next scene I was planning to run was Curd Weiss offering the PCs a job. It's a pretty small tweak to the character's background, and easy to implement. The PC will still have to impress the NPC to qualify, but it at least gives the player a lead on doing so.
Getting that scene started was a little rough. Technically the meeting was between Curd and Lina, and only Burgolt chose to accompany her. The offer to the PCs is supposed to start at 5 silver shillings each, but half the party wasn't there. I needed to prompt the PCs to mention they had cohorts to add to the job. My in-character attempts to have Curd ask about Lina and Burgolt's working relationship were, sadly, too similar to something I had another NPC say to them in the previous session. Since flighty Luminary Mauer implied last week that Lina and Burgolt were romantic, that's how the players took Curd's innocent questions. First they assume he's making the same mistake Mauer did, and then they thought he was hitting on Lina himself. Not at all what I intended. I regret trying to handle that conversation in-character, I should have just summarized. Anyhow, after some amount of stumbling, I eventually go to the job proposal. 

Don't Split The Sidebar: My players (and to be honest nearly every group I've ever played with or GM'd for) really love to split up the party. I don't know why that is. Personally, I think splitting the party should only be done as a last-resort. A thing you do only if there's a clock ticking, or if there's a _really good_ in-character reason why it would be detrimental to include the other PCs in the scene.  Any time you split the party, it's pretty much guaranteeing that someone is going to be bored for some amount of time. It slows down the pacing, often resulting in the PCs only getting to half as much plot as they'd get to without it. It denies the party resources the GM or author expected them to have access to when encounters were designed.  It's always a handicap, but everybody does it. I'll never be able to wrap my head around that, even though I'm often guilty of this exact thing myself when I'm a player.

Curd hires the PCs (all four of them) to travel a particular road, along which some carriages and wagons have gone missing. Look for signs of banditry or accident, and return with a report. If they find this latest wagon, or the valuables it carried, return them. The most important cargo is a series of expensive Cathayan silks, but there's also some crates of wine, and several barrels of chemicals for industrial processes. If they kill some bandits in the process, there will be a bonus. At the least, they'll get 5 silver each (plus a hot meal, and a roof over their heads at the Inn at the end of the road) for a day's work.
Suspiciously Silky Sidebar:  Several things strike me as odd about this little bit of the adventure. #1: The diversion to the countryside drags the PCs away from the investigation down on the docks. #2: The silks are specifically mentioned as being shipped by carriage from Nuln, which is located due West of Averhiem on the Aver river. #3: The intended recipient of this cargo (the merchant Adolphus Starke) owns a boat and doesn't live in Averhiem. #4: Cathay is East of the Empire.   As it turns out, everything is on the up-and-up, and none of this distracted or worried my players in the least.  The coincidental intersection of those four facts could easily have turned into a huge red herring. If any of my players had chosen to look at a map of the Warhammer world at the start of this session, they may have become mired in unwarranted suspicion of Weiss, Starke or von Kaufmann. I consider that a bullet dodged, and with that as context I guess I'm thankful they just thought Sir Curd Weiss had the hots for Lina instead.
The other two players engage in some shopping at the open-air market just across the street from where the meeting is taking place. Ninewise wants to buy a couple sets of clothes. She wants to be able to pose as silver or brass tier as the mood suits her. At first this stymies me, as there's no clothing entries on the general equipment matrix… but after a moment I realize there's a price stated clearly in the armor section, and I'm eventually able to reverse-engineer brass and silver tier versions of it.
Shopping System Sadness Sidebar: Shopping is never an exciting part of any adventure. It's positively boring for any player who's not currently involved in the process of adding beneficial new equipment to their character sheet. For the GM it's usually boring, but sometimes that's spiked with frustration or concern stemming from odd pricing decisions in the rulebooks or the game-changing nature of some high-end equipment.  It's the sort of thing that should be, whenever possible, handled off-camera. Compile a list (complete with prices from the books) between sessions or scenes, and hand it to the GM for a quick approval.
Unfortunately, Warhammer 3rd makes that off-camera expediency all but impossible. There's no simple equipment list. Buying anything other than a weapon involves looking up the category on a chart, comparing that chart to more detailed text descriptions on the next page, followed frequently by asking the GM to make a judgement call when that info turns out to be incomplete, after which the player makes two die rolls (one for availability and one for haggling) and depending on the second die roll you do some percentage multiplication. WTF!? It's very tempting to skip all that availability and haggling nonsense, but doing so would deprive the adventure of some of it's flavor. There's specific rules in the scenario notes for what sort of items are cheaper or more costly in this town, further modified by day of the week and what part of town you're shopping in. It's mildly cool and very flavorful, but also a big pain in the haversack.
The PCs meet up, and there's an info dump about the job, which they all agree to embark on today.

Rather than set out at once, there's a short delay so Hrulgar can deliver bad news to his friend Captain Marcus Baerfaust. Burgolt goes with him. A second awkward introduction happens. I keep trying to cue the players to introduce and vouch for the other PCs, but they never take the hint (this same thing happened in the next two sessions at least). I clearly need to be more bluntly out-of-character about it. Since Hrulgar doesn't vouch for Burgolt, the Captain is uneasy talking in front of a von Engler, and through that I inadvertently reinforce the PCs desire to always split the party. Oops!

Despite botching the introductions, this is still rather a bit easier access to Baerfaust than the adventure technically allows for, but it matches Hrulgar's bio nicely (because of the way he answered questions on the "Battle-Scarred" background card). So I don't really want to discourage it, but I'm really not prepared for another visit, and more importantly don't want to slow down our progress at all. I know there's a big fight happening in a later scene, and I need to make sure I have enough time for it. So I decide Baerfaust is about to head out of the palace on some duty, and can only speak to Hrulgar in passing, whilst in the stable.

MAJOR SPOILER ALERT: If you're playing this campaign at someone else's table, or think you might do so one day, skip the next paragraph entirely. At best it's full of spoilers, and at worst it may be a terrible red herring depending on what "behind the scenes" decisions your GM has made.

Hrulgar conveys the news about the bodies the found the day before. He mentions their state, disfigured as part of some sort of ritual sacrifice by mythical Skaven and/or your more run-of-the-mill evil witches, then dumped in acid. He also drops the bombshell that Baerfaust's nephew Ingo may be among the as-yet-unidentified dead. The captain has no time for sentimentality, he's been summoned to the von Tuchtenagen estate concerning a legal matter with the city guard, so will have to mourn later.  (This is largely name-dropping for later use. I do a lot of that. In this case, it won't come up again for several sessions.) It's also thematic reinforcement, further solidifying the notion that though technically in charge of the Averheim Garrison and City Watch, Baerfaust serves at the whims of various noble houses and is beholden to the whole lot of them at least until a new Elector-Count is chosen. I add one more detail before he mounts his horse. Baerfaust spoke further with Lt Arta Schaeffer about Ingo's last report before his disappearance. Schaeffer remembers that he asked her how to spell two words: "jade" and "scepter" and from the way he asked she inferred they were being used in the same sentence.

Meanwhile, Ninewise and Lina hang back at the market. Having done some clothes shopping, Ninewise now wants to buy a set of pauper's clothing for her sister the wizard. There may be times where Lina doesn't want to advertise her spellcasting credentials via her official robes. I remind them that the robes of her order, while marking her abilities for all to see, do at least provide some amount of legal protection from witch-hunters and others who might be superstitious or suspicious. They still pick up a change of outfit for Lina, just in case.

The group meets back up, and heads out on the road per their agreement with Curd Weiss. Along the way, they cross the path of an old Strigany (essentially Gypsy) pedlar. I flavor the heck out of his cart: goat-drawn modified wheel-barrow with a variety of cabinets more or less nailed on top of one another and covered with trinkets and junk, think I had a cat in a bird cage on top too. It was intentionally ridiculous. As they approach, he stops, opens up the cabinets, and starts shouting "rag-a-bo!" This is a traditional call of a "rag & bone man", a fellow who gathers up the cast-offs from noble houses (or where-ever junk is being discarded) to resell second-hand. He's in the adventure notes, but not in much detail.

There's three points to this encounter:

#1: When the PCs mention to him that wagons on this route have been hit by bandits, he has a minor clue to pass on. He can draw the PCs attention to the fact that further up the road there's a spot where wagon ruts and animal tracks leave the road. This is so that we don't have to rely on a lucky Observation check to advance the plot, and have an alternate method to convey the information. This isn't Gumshoe, after all, so I applaud the scenario designers for this touch.

#2: If the PCs capture and question the bandits, their initial ruse is to get off the hook is to claim they were hired by a Strigany crime boss. This is a pretty ridiculous red herring and easy enough for the PCs to settle, so i think it's just in the scenario notes to give a touch of verisimilitude and room to improvise. They don't waste any word count on what happens if the PCs buy this story and go murder the pedlar, for example. I'm kinda glad my players didn't take the bait.

#3: Aside from his (non-)participation in the plot, this minor encounter gave me an opportunity to redress a minor unfairness to Hrulgar, the Apprentice Runesmith character in my party. Runesmithing is a weird career. It lets you imbue magic items, which is potentially really powerful. However, it's also really expensive to do so, as you have to start with a superior-quality item. There's a lot of hurdles to jump through, and my player had made no secret of how annoying he found the process. I figured this traveling pedlar would allow me an opportunity to give him a leg up on the smithing of a single runic item, without any fear of it setting a precedent.  It's a one-of-a-kind item from a traveling merchant with an unreliable supply line.

So the merchant shows them his wares, and makes some small talk.  One out-of-place amulet amongst all the junk jewelry strikes Hrulgar's eye. It's a dwarven ancestor badge, the sort of thing that should never be allowed in hands of non-dwarves, and perfect rune-fodder. The merchant can't recall where he got it, and figures he's not going to a proper dwarf fortress for months, so this is his best opportunity to unload it. He states the price as 20 silver schillings. That's a heck of a steal by itself, but I was forgetting the detailed Haggling rules when I made up that number. One good die roll later, and the price is cut in half.  I've now met my quota of kindness for one session, time to plan the TPK.

How Much Is That Runic Amulet In The Sidebar?  The price I'd previously announced for a rune-ready superior quality amulet was 1 Gold at the market in town. That's a fairly large amount in Warhammer 3rd. It's 1/5th the maximum a PC can start with, and amounts to 10 day's pay for a typical mercenary or bodyguard. However, I have no idea if it was way too high or way too low. A hand weapon that's high-enough quality to accept a rune would cost 2.5 Gold, but it's also a usable weapon that has a bonus-die on attacks. On the other hand, a "superior quality" sword doesn't imply that it's all fancied up with gold filigree and inset gems, unlike a "superior" piece of jewelry. There is a necklace available as treasure later in the adventure - but it's listed value is not particularly useful in this regards because the price given is for if you fence or pawn it, and we aren't clearly told whether or not it's "superior". From a gamist perspective, 1 Gold seems overpriced for a career features that also takes XP, time, and a workshop. But from a simulationist perspective, a Gold feels way too cheap. Months later, I'm still wrestling with this.

The PCs find the spot where multiple carriages and animals left the road and headed into the woods. They head down the trail, mostly unconcerned about stealth because they assume that the carts are just plain gone. Along the way, they find a broken end of a small barrel, sitting in a pile of dark grey sludge. The barrel probably fell off a wagon or carriage as it passed through the forest trail. The sludge turns out to be gunpowder, ruined from exposure the driving Averland rain.

I mention there's some smoke over the trees, like a campfire in some distant clearing. The PCs make note of it, and continue ahead. The assumption, I would later learn, is that since it's been several days since the carriage failed to arrive in Averheim, there's no chance of the bandits (if any) being still on-site. If there's anyone camping in the area, they are at most witnesses, not suspects.  This is actually a pretty clever deduction, but not what the scenario author had in mind at all. As it turns out, the campers are not only brigands, but also mutants.

Depending on how much investigation your group decides to do, this fight could be happening a couple sessions earlier than it did for us, so the PCs might have had 2 or 3 fewer advances under their belts. I'd read on the forums that this fight is mostly a cakewalk.  It's balanced for a party of 3 PCs (as that's how many the main box set supports) with randomly-drawn careers. My 4 PCs include a pistolier, a fire mage, and a dwarf who is technically a merchant but built to maximize melee effectiveness.  The one "non-combatant" in our group has several buff spells and a smidge of healing. Without some tinkering, this fight would probably last just 1 round and fail to do any damage to the players. Where's the fun in that?

The encounter as described in the scenario is 5 mutants, 1 of which is already badly wounded and 3 of which are drunk.  Multiple GMs before me had complained about it being underwhelming. The PCs are just about guaranteed to catch them unawares. In addition, these so-called mutants don't actually have mutant stats as-written. They don't even have actual mutation cards, just descriptions.  They use "townsfolk" stats, so their attacks are little weaker than "real" mutants, and they don't cause Fear. This is justified because their mutations are "mostly cosmetic". That strikes me as ridiculous. It would be dubious even if I hadn't been warned that the fight had been a push-over at other tables. Citizens of the Empire have a great fear and hatred for anyone different than themselves. If I say these mutants aren't very scary because they only have feathers and donkey ears, that would set a precedent. Most of the mutations in the mutation deck are "cosmetic", but the PCs will still be hunted outcasts if they accumulate a large number corruption points. Corruption and mutation are supposed to be serious dangers, and treating them so lightly really undermines this aspect of the setting. An upgrade was clearly in order.

For starters, I restored them all to actual Mutant stats. The actual Characteristic increase was very minor, but it did give them an extra point of Soak and Fear 1. In practice, the Fear turned out to be pretty trivial as well, as most starting PCs have something like a 70% chance to pass a Fear 1 test, and the consequences of failure are pretty minor for a PC. Then I gave each NPC an actual honest-to-tzeentchness mutation card, in some cases 2. As best as possible I tried to match up the cards to the descriptions of the mutants in the scenario. So Fritz' waddle becomes the (useless) Grotesque Features card, but Gerta's warty skin actually boosts her Soak. I also reduced the number of wounds on the already-injured mutant so he couldn't accidentally run himself to death just getting into melee.

To that I added the Chaos monster-group sheet. I knew not to expect the Eye of the Gods or Chaotic Fury tracks to actually trigger in a battle this short, but it came with juicy Tactic Talent slots. I filled them with Exploit Weakness and Push It Till You Drop. This boosted their damage and combat effectiveness, but in a way I could easily fine-tune on the fly. If the PCs were winning, I'd have the mutants gang up, and trigger both tactics. If the PCs were having problems, I could easily make tactical decisions that would render either or both tactics powerless. Rather than rely on the boring old Basic Actions, I gave them Brutal Assault, Rampaging Mutation, and Revel in Corruption. Again, this gave me a lot of control over the pacing and threat level of the battle.

Towards that end it worked really well, but there was still some unexpected general weirdness to the fight.  Once the PCs and Mutants saw each other, we rolled initiative. I based this on Agility, but the first two PCs to act actually took Social actions, trying to Influence the mutants. I wasn't about to let them talk their way out of a fight with mutants entirely, but I did let this convince the two sober mutants to abandon their drunken compatriots and flee. This worked out okay in retrospect, but at the time it meant the fight started slowly and no one quite got what they wanted out of the scene.

Eventually a bonafide melee broke out. 3 out of 4 characters were heavily wounded by the end of the fight. The remaining 3 drunken mutants provided plenty of challenge, and one of them got to unleash the Rampaging Mutation and have his arm melt off while attacking. It was a crazy hard fight. I suspect I may have over-compensated for the reported weakness of the battle, but it's hard to say for certain. Ninewise stayed out of the fight entirely which meant the others had to pick up some slack, and Lina got really screwed by the miscast deck.

Lina had been standing in the woods, flinging attack spells to support Hrulgar and Burgolt who were being pounded on by the mutants. Lina blasted a target (who coincidentally has the Brightly-Colored mutation) with a arching bolt of fire… and scored two chaos stars in the process. So we flip over a miscast card. For 1 chaos star, it says an item in the casters possession gets stained a bright color. So I narrate that her fire strikes the mutant and sets him ablaze, but the flames turn the same green hue as his mutated skin and then arc back into the woods to discolor Ninewise's robe. The red trim turns green on one side of her robe. With his dying words the mutant cries out to his unholy god "Thank you, Lord Tzeentch, Changer of Ways! Thank you for blessing me with your hellfire!"

Then I flipped over the next miscast card to resolve the remaining chaos star. Wow. The new card was "Arcing Magic." It fit the visual theme we'd just described, but it was also the worst possible single-star result in the deck for an attack spell. It makes your same spell hit a second, unwanted, target for full effect. Not too bad if you're doing a buff or a heal, but potentially PC-killing on a major attack like this. So, rather than arc again and possibly drop a PC whose already been getting smashed in melee, I just had the damage pile onto Lina.  It was a huge stack of wounds, including 1 critical… and wouldn't you know it, she gets one of the Serious Wound cards. "Bum Knee," which is not the best thematic fit to being blasted by magic fire, but I let it ride. So it's a lingering injury that will stick around for a very long time. Still technically better than "1 Chaos Star: A PC dies", but not by much. This leaves a sinking feeling in my stomach about the critical wound and miscast systems.

Eventually the drunk mutants go down, but by then the sober ones are long gone. Burgolt might have been able to chase them down on horseback, but he was stabbed multiple times in the fight so they decide not to pursue.

With the action out of the way, the PCs can search the bandit camp. Scattered amongst the tents are various unappetizing debris that you might expect from a mutant camp, including some "meat" of dubious origin (probably the missing coachmen and roadwardens) and a bunch of poorly-maintained hand weapons.
Since the site has been contaminated for a while, I have the PCs each make a Corruption check. Usually these sorts of tests are made for contact with really dangerous substances or powerful magic, not simply mutant cooties. As a result, the official minimum difficulty is 2 purple dice. That seemed a bit out-of-line with the risk here, so I had them roll vs only 1 purple, and I threw in a bonus white die for the recent cleansing rain. The dice continued to be unkind to the PCs though, just as they had through the fight. Both Lina and Ninewise picked up 1 corruption point each. It's not a huge deal yet, but it could cause trouble down the road.

Checking the camp further, they find there's only one carriage here, but  there are signs that more had been parked here previously. There's a big spot where a number of barrels were stacked for several days. Now they are gone, leaving only an impression in the trampled grass to mark where they'd sat. If you're thinking the barrels were full of gunpowder just like the broken ones the PCs found on the way here, you're correct. "Chemicals for industrial processes," indeed. The bottles of wine are here as well, but more than half of them have been emptied. The silks have been rifled through, but are mostly okay except for one or two used to clean up mutant bodily functions. We retroactively rule that that particular discovery is how Ninewise picked up her corruption point. Eww.

The next Coaching Inn is just a mile or two down the road, so they're able to go fetch some porters, horses, and wagons to gather up anything that belongs to Graf von Kaufman or his Red Arrow Coaching Company. The Inn is just a short distance from a Shallyan hospice and leper colony, so the PCs can get first-aid. It's not quite enough to heal them all completely, but it's better than nothing. They have dinner and a couple Inn rooms courtesy of the letter Curd Weiss gave them.

End of Session 5. End of Day 4.
Party Tension is at 9. I don't remember why it shot up 3 points this session, but between 2 awkward meetings and a mutant battle, that seems reasonable.
Criminal Empire: Agenda remains at 6, and Stability at 7.
Corruption: Lina has 2, Ninewise has 1.
Wounds: Lina and Burgolt each had a couple left over the next morning. Lina has a "Bum Knee" that will be really hard to recover from entirely, but at least it's effects will rarely trigger.