Category: Monstrous Mishaps

  • Creating Winnie Wurmstein, the Hoarder

    Hello and welcome back to my series of creating pregen characters for the Monstrous Mishaps quickstart (soon at an online store near you! Assuming I can get my ass in gear, at least). Last week, we saw the genesis of mild-mannered dork Klaus Kleinmann. This time, we’re on to the Hoarder. Let’s call her Winnie Wurmstein.

    Being a Hoarder (which is to say, a Dragon in human form), Winnie has to be obsessed with collecting ever more of something. I’ll say that her fascination is with artifacts related to Hauntings – not necessarily Haunted artifacts, but things that once belonged to someone who later came back as a ghost, or who was involved in mysterious goings-on of some sort. Things like that will be hard to get hold of while also being pretty much entirely useless – perfect for a Hoarder’s obsession!

    Since Klaus was such a meek and unadventurous character, I want to make Winnie a lot more active and gung-ho. She’s also going to need to know a lot about ghost stories and urban legends for her hoarding. As such, I’ll start with giving her Basic (4) Asskicking and Basic (4) Weirdness, making her a sort of two-fisted occult investigator. Being cheerfully loud and perfectly able to stand up for herself, I’ll also give her Limited (3) Dramatics and Limited (3) Grit. Finally, she’s pretty active and prone to running around, and also used to doing research and going over records, so she gets Limited (2) Fitness and Limited (2) Paperpushing.

    For her lifepath, I decide that Winnie was pretty over-enthusiastic even as a child (Metabolism of a Humming Bird), made a big production of things in school (Drama Club) and now runs a largely unsuccessful business dealing in occult curios (unsuccessful because obviously she can’t bear to part with her better finds…). That raises her Dramatics and Fitness to Basic (4) and her Weirdness to Basic (5). Her Breed Abilities are Keenness and Asskicking, so raise the former to Limited (2) and the latter to Basic (5).

    Winnie can use the Basic power for Wyrm’s Discernment (Nose for Gold – it allows you to pinpoint which object in your vicinity is most useful to you) in her “treasure”-hunting, so let’s give her Basic (4) Wyrm’s Discernment. I could give her another point in one of her Secondary Dooms, but that’d tank her Respectability completely (the starting value is calculated from how much of a Monster you start out as – the freakier you are, the less conventionally successful you will be) and she is supposed to run a business, albeit a small business, so let’s leave it there.

    Thus, she starts with Limited (3) Maze, Basic (4) Monstrosity, Basic (4) Pretension, Limited (2) Respectability. From that and her other Abilities, we can calculate her Pools as follows: Health Points 9, Grit Points 8, Stamina Points 8, Budget Points 2, Favour Points 4.

    Again trying to make her different from Klaus, I’ll give her the Values of Excellence and Individualism. Winnie is competitive and runs her own race.

    All in all, Winnie turns out like this:

    WINNIE WURMSTEIN

    Breed: Hoarder

    Childhood: Metabolism of a Hummingbird
    Adolescence: Drama Club
    Adulthood: Woo-Woo Artist

    Values: Excellence, Individualism

    Primary Abilities: Basic (5) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Basic (4) Dramatics, Limited (3) Fitness, Limited (3) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Limited (2) Keenness, Minimal (1) Mindgames, Minimal (1) Nerdery, Limited (2) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Basic (5) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Limited (2) E-Skills, Basic (4) Hocuspocus, Minimal (1) Intrusion, Limited (2) Joyriding, Limited (3) Lawyering, Minimal (1) Quackery, Minimal (1) Rumours, Limited (2) Trickery, Minimal (1) Understanding, Limited (3) Volume, Basic (4) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Limited (3) Maze, Basic (5) Monstrosity, Basic (4) Pretension, Limited (2) Respectability

    Dooms: Basic (4) Wyrm’s Discernment

    Pools: HP 9, GP 8, SP 8, BP 2, FP 4

    That just leaves us Winnie’s Relationships. First, to offset her love of the strange, let’s give her a Friend with the Stereotype of Bookworm and the Discord of Skeptic – he doesn’t believe in any of this supernatural nonsense, and never mind that Winnie lives in a fiery cave with a bunch of other freaks, those are clearly just special effects and frankly he’s hurt that she’d insult his intelligence with such clear fraud! But just to shake things up, we’ll give him the Problem of Occult Lightning Rod. He might not believe in magic, but magic is very attached to him and he keeps being under curses and influences that he refuses to acknowledge.

    WINNIE’S FRIEND #1: JOE GRIBBELS

    Winnie and Joe met when his more open-minded wife dragged him to Winnie’s store to cure a curse that gave him his own trailing rain cloud (“such a lot of fuss! It’s like she never saw a perfectly natural localised metrological phenomenon before!”). Oddly enough, he and Winnie actually hit it off, especially since he provides a steady supply of arcane mysteries for her to acquire relics of.

    Stereotype: Bookworm
    Problem: Occult Lightning Rod
    Discord: Sceptic

    Values: Excellence, Tradition

    Primary Abilities: Minimal (1) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Minimal (1) Dramatics, Minimal (1) Fitness, Limited (3) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Basic (5) Keenness, Minimal (1) Mindgames, Basic (5) Nerdery, Limited (2) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Basic (5) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Basic (4) E-Skills, Limited (3) Hocuspocus, Limited (3) Intrusion, Limited (3) Joyriding, Minimal (1) Lawyering, Limited (3) Quackery, Minimal (1) Rumours, Minimal (1) Trickery, Limited (3) Understanding, Minimal (1) Volume, Minimal (1) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Basic (4) Respectability

    Pools: HP 6, GP 2, SP 2, BP 4

    For Winnie’s second Friend, let’s create her a partner for her occult curios store. We give her the Stereotype of Party Animal, the Problem of Not Right in the Head, and the Discord of Flake, to make her as unreliable for poor Winnie as possible – but she still has to somehow coax her back to work, since the business is shaky enough as it is.

    WINNIE’S FRIEND #2: LISA LUDLOCK

    Lisa is Winnie’s business partner, and together they run the Awesome Artifacts & Righteous Relics store. Lisa has the eccentricity of considering herself to be in contact with her grandmother, Greta Ludlock, who dispenses sage advice. Usually the advice is that Lisa is working too hard and should go do something fun for a change, which tends to leave the already-struggling store unmanned at inconvenient hours.

    Stereotype: Party Animal
    Problem: Not Right in The Head
    Discord: Flake

    Values: Community, Individualism

    Primary Abilities: Minimal (1) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Basic (5) Dramatics, Limited (2) Fitness, Limited (3) Grit, Limited (3) Hiding, Minimal (1) Keenness, Limited (2) Mindgames, Minimal (1) Nerdery, Minimal (1) Paperpushing, Limited (3) Schmoozing, Basic (4) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Limited (2) Bullshitting, Limited (2) E-Skills, Basic (4) Hocuspocus, Limited (2) Intrusion, Minimal (1) Joyriding, Limited (3) Lawyering, Minimal (1) Quackery, Minimal (1) Rumours, Basic (4) Trickery, Minimal (1) Understanding, Limited (3) Volume, Minimal (1) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Basic (4) Respectability

    Pools: HP 6, GP 2, SP 3, BP 4

    For Winnie’s Rival, let’s give her a boring stick in the mud to contrast her own blithe spirit. We’ll give him the approach of Spoilsport and the Feud of Professional, and say that he’s an anal-retentive inspector who keeps trying to shut down her store for its various regulatory breaches. His Redemption can be Independence, further emphasising that he prefers things as simple and drab as possible. We’ll make him a Monster, specifically an Outcast, to give him some more (anti-) personality.

    WINNIE’S RIVAL: COLIN FRUMP

    Colin works as a health and safety inspector for City Hall, and has made it his life’s mission to shut down Awesome Artifacts & Righteous Relics for its owners’ blatant disregard for all that is good and bureaucratic. While not the most fearsome of adversaries, his sheer plodding persistence can be disturbingly effective.

    Approach: Spoilsport
    Feud: Professional
    Redemption: Independence


    Breed: Outsider


    Values: Stoicism, Excellence


    Primary Abilities: Minimal (1) Asskicking, Basic (5) Camping, Minimal (1) Dramatics, Minimal (1) Fitness, Basic (4) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Basic (6) Keenness, Minimal (1) Mindgames, Limited (3) Nerdery, Basic (4) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Minimal (1) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Limited (3) E-Skills, Minimal (1) Hocuspocus, Limited (2) Intrusion, Limited (2) Joyriding, Limited (2) Lawyering, Basic (4) Quackery, Limited (2) Rumours, Minimal (1) Trickery, Limited (3) Understanding, Minimal (1) Volume, Minimal (1) X-Tremeness

    Dooms: Minimal (1) Fae’s Trickery, Minimal (1) Pariah’s Desolation, Minimal (1) Varg’s Ferocity

    Special Abilities: Limited (3) Maze, Limited (3) Monstrosity, Limited (3) Pretension, Limited (3) Respectability

    Pools: HP 6, GP 2, SP 2, BP 3, FP 3

    Finally, Winnie needs an Enemy, and being a Dragon, what better Enemy than a Damsel? Damsels, for those who are curious, are a special type of Monster-Slayer who don’t do much actual slaying but just sort of exist to tempt Monsters into victimising them, thereby providing justification for more go-getting Slayers. Think Bella Swan, only with Edward as the target for her endless whining rather than the one thing in the world she actually likes.

    Turning Winnie’s stats inside-out in the same way we did with Klaus last week, we get:

    WINNIE’S ENEMY: HOLGER MINX

    Holger and Winnie dated for a couple of years when they were younger, but eventually broke up due to a multitude of incompatabilities. Holger took the breakup so badly that he was Called as a Slayer on the spot, and ever since then he’s taken to hanging around and moaning eloquently about how horribly Winnie treated him, turning any soft-hearted people within hearing range against her in response.

    Legend: Complainer

    Values: Egalitarianism, Community

    Primary Abilities: Minimal (1) Asskicking, Limited (2) Camping, Minimal (1) Dramatics, Minimal (1) Fitness, Minimal (1) Grit, Basic (4) Hiding, Limited (3) Keenness, Limited (3) Mindgames, Basic (5) Nerdery, Minimal (1) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Minimal (1) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Limited (2) Bullshitting, Limited (3) E-Skills, Minimal (1) Hocuspocus, Basic (4) Intrusion, Limited (3) Joyriding, Minimal (1) Lawyering, Limited (3) Quackery, Limited (2) Rumours, Limited (2) Trickery, Limited (3) Understanding, Minimal (1) Volume, Minimal (1) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Limited (3) Calling, Basic (7) Respectability

    Pools: HP 6, GP 1 (+3 from Calling), SP 2, BP 7

    And that’s it! That’s the second of our six pregens finished. Join me next week, as we descend into the flaming nether regions of Hell, and stat up a Demon.

  • Creating Klaus Kleinmann, the Creep

    My Monstrous Mishaps quickstart now contains all the rules for playing the game, so all that remains is to write up a sample Story. But since Monstrous Mishaps works best when it’s very personalised – each character comes with specific plot hooks that are meant to be integrated into every Story – I think I’d better supply some pregenerated characters too. One each for the six Breeds that I first created (the skulking Creeps, the kleptomaniacal Hoarders, the put-upon Klutzes, the overzealous Jerkasses, the obnoxious Loudmouths and the shameless Moochers) will probably be best. I won’t be using all the stuff I generate, since the quickstart runs off a slimmed down version of the full rules, but it’ll be good to have a lot of material to choose from.

    So, this week, let’s start with our Creep. First he needs to pick his Abilities, two at Basic (4), two at Limited (3), and two at Limited (2). Let’s say that he’s a conflict-averse nerd who prefers to run away from danger and give him Basic (4) Fitness and Basic (4) Hiding. He also reads a lot and has a good memory, so he’s got Limited (3) Nerdery, Limited (3) Weirdness, Limited (2) Paperpushing and Limited (2) Keenness. Being a Creep gives him +1 to Mindgames and Hiding, so adding that to what he’s already got (every Ability not chosen, of course, starts at Minimal (1)), he’s got Limited (2) Mindgames and Basic (5) Hiding.

    I’m getting a pretty good image of our Creep now. I think I’m going to call him Klaus Kleinmann.

    Next, we’ll consider Klaus’ lifepath. I figure that he had an older brother who used to bully him relentlessly for being so, well, Creepy, so he gets +1 to Asskicking for having had Mean Older Siblings. To add to his miseries, his parents thought he was weird and off-putting too and sent him to Military School, giving him a +1 to Grit. Perhaps they did him a favour, since I forgot my own sage advice of always starting a character with at least a few extra points in Grit. Finally, as an adult he’s become a boring file clerk, so he gets +1 to Paperpushing for being a Bureaucrat.

    We quickly calculate his Derived Abilities from what we now know to be his Primary Abilities, and end up with:

    Primary Abilities: Limited (2) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Minimal (1) Dramatics, Basic (4) Fitness, Limited (2) Grit, Basic (5) Hiding, Limited (2) Keenness, Limited (2) Mindgames, Limited (3) Nerdery, Limited (3) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Limited (3) Weirdness


    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Limited (2) E-Skills, Limited (2) Hocuspocus, Basic (4) Intrusion, Limited (3) Joyriding, Limited (2) Lawyering, Limited (2) Quackery, Limited (2) Rumours, Limited (3) Trickery, Limited (2) Understanding, Limited (2) Volume, Limited (3) X-Tremeness

    Next up is Dooms. I think I want Klaus to have at least a little bit of skill with a Creep’s Primary Doom of Fae’s Trickery, so I’ll raise it to Limited (2). Klaus’ retiring personality is so strong that sometimes he can be oddly hard to spot. I also want him to be into making some weird art (hey, it’s something you can do all by yourself!), so I’ll also giving him Minimal (1) Devil’s Craft. That gives him a total Monstrosity Score of Limited (3), which also sets his beginning Respectability and Pretension Scores – both of them also at Limited (3). Klaus doesn’t stand out much either among Monsters or among regular people.

    Given Klaus’ Abilities, he has 8 Health Points (X-Tremeness Score + 5), 7 Grit Points (Grit Score +5), 10 Stamina Points (Fitness Score + 5), 3 Budget Points (Respectability Score) and 3 Favour Points (Pretension Score).

    For Values, I’m giving Klaus Harmony and Community. He really just wants to follow the rules, play it safe, and go about his day without offending anyone. Good luck with that, of course, given that Creeps have a Bane that causes them to automatically offend people just by drawing breath, but oh well.

    That’s it for Klaus himself! His finished stats look like this:

    KLAUS KLEINMANN

    Breed: Creep

    Childhood: Mean Older Siblings
    Adolescence: Military School
    Adulthood: Bureaucrat


    Values: Harmony, Community

    Primary Abilities: Limited (2) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Minimal (1) Dramatics, Basic (4) Fitness, Limited (2) Grit, Basic (5) Hiding, Limited (2) Keenness, Limited (2) Mindgames, Limited (3) Nerdery, Limited (3) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Limited (3) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Limited (2) E-Skills, Limited (2) Hocuspocus, Basic (4) Intrusion, Limited (3) Joyriding, Limited (2) Lawyering, Limited (2) Quackery, Limited (2) Rumours, Limited (3) Trickery, Limited (2) Understanding, Limited (2) Volume, Limited (3) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Limited (3) Maze, Limited (3) Monstrosity, Limited (3) Pretension, Limited (3) Respectability

    Dooms: Minimal (1) Devil’s Craft, Limited (2) Fae’s Trickery

    Pools: HP 8, GP 7, SP 9, BP 3, FP 3

    But we’re not done yet! We still need to create two Friends, one Rival, and one Enemy to make Klaus’ life interesting.

    For his first Friend, I’ll choose the Stereotype of Alpha, the DIscord of The Ball and Chain, and the Problem of Web of Lies. That gives us a bunch of Ability adjustments to pile together, and we end up with a character who isn’t entirely un-rugged but whose only real stand-out Ability is his Basic (4) Schmoozing. He’s also got the sole Value of Utilitarianism, so apparently he’s a person of flexible morality. I’ll name him Fridolf Chickenhawke and write him up like this:

    KLAUS’ FRIEND #1: FRIDOLF CHICKENHAWKE

    Fridolf and Klaus first met in military school, where good-natured Fridolf took the timid kid under his wing and resolved to “show him how it’s done” – though what he mostly showed him was how to get in trouble with the teachers by creative but inevitably failed get-out-of-working-hard schemes. He has since settled down slightly and married a woman named Selma, to whom he’s trying to present a respectable front, though his happy-go-lucky nature is hard to repress. He has taken to blaming Klaus for things like staying out drinking too late or missing work, which hasn’t exactly made Klaus popular with formidable Selma.


    Stereotype: Alpha
    Problem: Web of Lies
    Discord: The Ball and Chain

    Values: Utilitarianism

    Primary Abilities: Limited (3) Asskicking, Limited (3) Camping, Limited (3) Dramatics, Limited (2) Fitness, Minimal (1) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Limited (3) Keenness, Limited (3) Mindgames, Minimal (1) Nerdery, Limited (2) Paperpushing, Basic (4) Schmoozing, Minimal (1) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Limited (3) Bullshitting, Minimal (1) E-Skills, Limited (2) Hocuspocus, Minimal (1) Intrusion, Minimal (1) Joyriding, Limited (2) Lawyering, Limited (2) Quackery, Limited (2) Rumours, Limited (2) Trickery, Limited (3) Understanding, Limited (2) Volume, Limited (2) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Basic (5) Respectability

    Pools: HP 7, GP 1, SP 3, BP 5

    You’ll notice that Fridolf’s Pools are lower than Klaus’ is. That’s because he’s a GMC, and GMCs are assumed to be running around spending points from their Pools when the players aren’t looking.

    For Klaus’ second Friend, I’m choosing the Stereotype of Optimist, the Problem of Pie in the Sky, and the Discord of High-Maintainance. Adding together all the modifiers from that, we get a jack of all trades who knows a little of everything but isn’t startlingly good at anything. They also have the Values of Harmony and Innovation, befitting someone who is sure that the world loves them and that good things are just one more fine adjustment away. I’ll write them up like this:

    KLAUS’ FRIEND #2: SHIRLEY SHINE

    Shirley works in the same office as Klaus, but is sure that that’s just a gateway to bigger and better things. She tinkers with mechanical inventions in her spare time and always has some new questionable contraption that she’s sure will sell big if she can just convince some bigwig to invest in it. She likes Klaus but considers all his interests to be insufferably boring (which, to be fair, isn’t inaccurate) and keeps trying to drag him off to do something more exciting, like helping her get rich.

    Stereotype: Optimist
    Problem: Pie in the Sky
    Discord: High-Maintenance

    Values: Harmony, Innovation

    Primary Abilities: Minimal (1) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Limited (2) Dramatics, Limited (3) Fitness, Limited (3) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Minimal (1) Keenness, Limited (3) Mindgames, Limited (3) Nerdery, Limited (3) Paperpushing, Limited (3) Schmoozing, Limited (3) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Limited (3) Bullshitting, Limited (3) E-Skills, Limited (2) Hocuspocus, Limited (2) Intrusion, Limited (3) Joyriding, Limited (2) Lawyering, Limited (2) Quackery, Limited (3) Rumours, Limited (2) Trickery, Limited (2) Understanding, Limited (2) Volume, Limited (2) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Limited (3) Respectability

    Pools: HP 7, GP 2, SP 4, BP 3

    Next up is Klaus’ rival, his sitcom-style arch-nemesis who engages in pointless and belligerent feuds with him. I’ll pick the Approach of Brute, and the Redemption of Bravery, but just to shake things up (and preserve the alliteration) I’ll use the Feud of Brainy. So Klaus’ Rival is someone who wants to beat him up to prove that he’s smarter, and who clearly isn’t deterred by how little sense that makes! The points from those three choices gives me someone who is actually quite good at both Asskicking and Nerdery, and whose Values are Excellence and Innovation. Thus, I give you:

    KLAUS’ RIVAL: HECTOR JIBB

    Hector is an insecure overachiever who can’t stand not being the best at anything that he thinks matters, whether academic or athletic. He’s been out to get Klaus ever since he happened to score a single point more than Hector on their second grade spelling test, and is now constantly trying to show him up in front of the Court as a lesser intellect and an inferior sportsman, and never mind that Klaus has never claimed to be any sort of intellect or sportsman. Hector loves a challenge and throws himself into any chance to prove himself against impossible odds.

    Approach: Brute
    Feud: Brainy
    Redemption: Bravery

    Breed: Klutz

    Values: Excellence, Innovation

    Primary Abilities: Basic (6) Asskicking, Minimal (1) Camping, Minimal (1) Dramatics, Basic (5) Fitness, Limited (2) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Minimal (1) Keenness, Minimal (1) Mindgames, Basic (5) Nerdery, Minimal (1) Paperpushing, Minimal (1) Schmoozing, Limited (2) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Limited (3) E-Skills, Minimal (1) Hocuspocus, Limited (3) Intrusion, Basic (5) Joyriding, Minimal (1) Lawyering, Limited (3) Quackery, Minimal (1) Rumours, Minimal (1) Trickery, Minimal (1) Understanding, Limited (3) Volume, Basic (5) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Limited (3) Maze, Limited (3) Monstrosity, Limited (3) Pretension, Limited (3) Respectability

    Dooms: Minimal (1) Ancient’s Wisdom, Minimal (1) Pariah’s Isolation, Minimal (1) Titan’s Prowess

    Pools: HP 10, GP 1, SP 6, BP 3, FP 3

    I made Hector a Klutz, since that fits well with his “a healthy mind in a healthy body” ethos. The Rival is usually another Monster, though that isn’t an absolute rule and I may well shake things up as I get further.

    Finally, we need to create an Enemy. Those are more serious than Rivals – they might not be trying to kill you, per se, but they certainly want to ruin you and won’t be satisfied with less. They are also defined by their PC in a whole different way – their Abilities are generated by switching the Scores of certain of the PC’s Abilities that are in some way “opposites.”

    Thus, to create Klaus’ Enemy, we switch his Limited (2) Asskicking and his Minimal (1) Schmoozing, giving the Enemy Minimal (1) Asskicking and Limited (2) Schmoozing. They’re neither one very impressive at either talking or fighting, but where Klaus is a little better at defending himself, the Enemy is a little better at talking his way out of trouble. We likewise exchange Klaus’ Minimal (1) Camping and his Limited (3) Paperpushing to give the Enemy Limited (3) Camping and Minimal (1) Paperpushing – Klaus is more at home in civilisation, and the Enemy is more at home in the wilderness, though again it’s neither’s defining feature.

    A more serious difference is Dramatics and Hiding; Klaus’ Basic (5) Hiding and Minimal (1) Dramatics becomes a Basic (4) Dramatics and Minimal (1) Hiding for the Enemy – Klaus is very quiet, and the Enemy is very loud. Note that one point disappeared from that Basic (5). That’s because it came from Klaus’ Breed bonus, meaning it doesn’t “count” for these purposes.

    And so on. The Enemy’s Values, meanwhile, are the polar opposites of Klaus’ Harmony and Community, meaning that they are Stoicism and Individualism.

    We’ll have the Enemy be a Slayer, though figuring out their Legend took some thought. In the end, though, I decided that the Enemy was a brash, direct person who was secretly afraid (and envious) of anyone subtler and more circumspect than himself, and made him a Wimp, the Legend who aspires to be tricksters and rogues. I ended up writing him up like this:

    KLAUS’ ENEMY: BARRY HUSSEL

    Barry is a go-getter of the first order and has gotten a decent amount of financial success by working hard, running his own race, and shouting very loudly at people. However, no matter what he does, it never seems to be enough – really making it into the big time always seems to elude him. After being Called as a Slayer, he’s realised that the reason for that is that sinister beings like Klaus keep scurrying around in the shadows and ruining everything for him with their clever schemes. Well, Barry is going to show that he can out-scheme the lot of them, and then he’ll finally get the unrivalled fame and fortune that he deserves!

    Legend: Wimp

    Values: Stoicism, Individualism

    Primary Abilities: Minimal (1) Asskicking, Limited (3) Camping, Basic (4) Dramatics, Limited (2) Fitness, Miniaml (1) Grit, Minimal (1) Hiding, Basic (4) Keenness, Minimal (1) Mindgames, Limited (3) Nerdery, Minimal (1) Paperpushing, Limited (2) Schmoozing, Limited (3) Weirdness

    Derived Abilities: Minimal (1) Bullshitting, Limited (2) E-Skills, Limited (3) Hocuspocus, Limited (2) Intrusion, Limited (2) Joyriding, Limited (2) Lawyering, Limited (3) Quackery, Minimal (1) Rumours, Limited (2) Trickery, Limited (2) Understanding, Limited (3) Volume, Minimal (1) X-Tremeness

    Special Abilities: Minimal (1) Calling, Advanced (8) Respectability

    Pools: HP 6, GP 1, SP 3, BP 8

    There you go! One PC with a supporting cast of four GMCs ready to go! Klaus will have his work cut out for him trying to beaten up by Hector, pulled into one of Barry’s inept schemes, press-ganged into trying to promote Shlley’s latest invention or getting blamed for whatever Selma is mad at Fridolf over this week.

    Next up the Hoarder, our resident would-be marauding Dragon. Stay tuned.

  • I have done actual stuff!

    I have done actual stuff!

    I didn’t manage to complete the Aberrant Player’s Guide this week – it’s long and it’s boring, and I’ve been distracted by more interesting things. See, it occurred to me that instead of reading PDFs of an outdated 90s game that I hate… I could read PDFs of outdated 90s games that I might actually like. I know, it’s a crazy idea, but what if I did something to not be miserable?

    Still, my Aberrant readthrough will eventually be finished, if it so kills me – I have one and a half book left, surely I can do it. And while I’m at it, I also intend to finish that loathsome piece of smirking, YouTube-spawned zoomer dreck Daggerheartat some point. I refuse to be beaten by self-righteous hacks, be they 90s hipster edgelords or 20s woke snowflakes!

    But, just for this week, I figured I’d actually post some work on my own projects for a bit. My attention span hasn’t been the greatest, but I’ve managed to put in some actual work on three different ones.

    THE DARK HERESY PORT

    My Dark Heresy port… works. That’s about the best you can say for it. It works, it’s not actively painful to use, it’s better (subjective statement, I know!) than the original rules. But it’s still not good. It’s over-complicated. It’s dense. It’s got lots of things that will never get used. It lacks the sort of punch that PbtA games should have, the sense of providing the flavour explicitly instead of trying to make it an emergent property of a hundred fiddly modifiers.

    So this week, I started scribbling on a new version. I’m keeping a lot of things from the old, but I’m stripping the basic moves down to one per Characteristic. I’m also renaming the Characteristics to make them represent personal qualities more so than raw talent – for example, I’m renaming Strength to Fierce, and you roll +Fierce to push forward, to advance, to remove obstacles. Like so:

    Weapon Skill – Lethal
    Ballistic Skill – Precise
    Strength – Fierce
    Toughness – Unyielding
    Agility – Treacherous
    Perception – Intuitive
    Willpower – Disciplined
    Fellowship – Charismatic
    Intelligence – Analytical

    I’m also merging Insanity and Corruption together into a single pool of “mental hit points.” Keeping track of them both just seems pointless, because honestly, I can’t remember many places in the fiction where anyone went crazy without being implied to be in some way corrupted or under demonic influence. Also, each Career gets three pre-defined conditions that they hit the first, second and third time they exceed their maximum number of Corruption Points. So for instance, the Adept becomes increasingly obsessed with blasphemous lore and ends up summoning daemons, the Arbitrator becomes less and less able to compromise and ends up getting himself killed in a pointless last stand, the Tech-Priest’s bionics take over more and more until he’s a prisoner in a body now wholly run by cogitors… and so on.

    Finally, I’m introducing two collective tracks: Exposure and Intel. Whenever the players make a mess, they mark Exposure, and once all the boxes are marked the enemy knows who they are and start seriously gunning for them. Whenever the players discover an important clue or valuable piece of intelligence, they mark Intel, and once all the boxes are marked they become able to call the Inquisition and request backup, or commandeer local Imperial forces in the Inquisition’s name.

    It’s still sketchy, and I don’t know how long it will take me to finish, especially with everything else I want to do… but I have a good feeling about this. Of course, I seem to recall saying that about the last two versions, too…

    THE MAGE: THE ASCENSION PORT

    One of the old PDFs I’m reading is actually the first edition of Mage: the Ascension and… do you realise that Mage used to be fun? Like, there used to be things to do, instead of just being dropped in a dreary world and being told to come up with your own motivation. You could use magick to do actual cool things, instead of the cool things being gated off behind unrealistic numbers of successes. And the Paradox rules actually offered some guidance for what sort of problems might occur at what levels of Paradox, instead of just shrugging and telling you to figure it out. I mean, Mage always fascinated me, but I started writing a port for it largely because I could think of absolutely no way to run it as it was and wanted to invent some workable structure for it. I guess I was reinventing the wheel.

    Anyway, that’s a lot of new ideas that I might look at implementing, but this week, what I actually did was sit down and iron out some better guidelines for Avatar Essence. I fear I’ve been frightfully inconsistent with what does and does not qualify a spell for that +1 bonus from a mage’s Essence, and since Arete rolls are locked at +0 for a long time, that bonus is kind of important.

    So here’s what I’ve come up with for now, and that I think might work:

    • If your Essence is Dynamic, take +1 to any Arete roll meant to radically alter a situation or infuse it with more energy. If it makes a mess, it can be justified as a Dynamic Effect. Creation and destruction are both highly possible, and so is transformation – the frequent problem is going to be making the changes drastic enough to qualify as Dynamic without resorting to vulgar magick. You can’t just shift around a few pieces, the very rules of the game must change in some way. Knowledge spells are almost entirely impossible to claim as Dynamic Effects – understanding the current situation implies a state of mind that assumes it will remain relatively unchanged, and that is against all the Dynamic Avatar stands for.
    • If your Essence is Pattern, take +1 to Arete rolls to make use of what already exists, without adding or removing from it. If you are playing off something that is already in the scene, you can probably justify it as a Pattern Effect. It is difficult to use Pattern to create anything whole cloth or to completely destroy, but you can “improve” on what is already there or put their pre-existing flaws into play. Likewise, transformation is possible, but only to make things either sturdier or more complicated, never to both weaken and simplify them (for example, you might sprinkle perfectly symmetrical holes throughout the surface of a door, thus making it more complicated but also more brittle and easier to break. You could not claim Pattern for just making the door rotten, since that would make it more fragile without adding to its complexity). Spells of pure knowledge are the hardest to justify; the Pattern Avatar is jealous of information and considers everything to be on a need-to-know basis, though you can sometimes sneak something through by baking into the spell the idea that you need to better understand something in order to strengthen it or obey its rules.
    • If your Essence is Primordial, take +1 to Arete rolls to remove things, especially barriers and restore the original, unconstrained state of things. The Primordial Avatar dislikes forcing anything to be, but you can get a lot of mileage out of removing the reasons for it not to be and then letting nature take its course. Pure knowledge spells are relatively easy to manage as long as you can argue that you are removing something that is “blocking your sight”; for example, you could see through a wall by removing its ability to hide what was behind it. Pattern Effects can also be used quite easily to either heal (by “removing weakness and damage”) or destroy (by “removing strength and wholeness”).
    • If your Essence is Questing, take +1 to Arete rolls to experience the world, either by expanding your senses or by introducing yourself into interesting situations. Pure knowledge spells are always allowed as Questing Effects, but spells that actually do something are harder – they generally need to be justified as serving to move yourself into a position where you can learn things. Questing can never be used to keep something at arm’s length or to remain stationary and let the world move around you, only in either affecting or facilitating your own movement through the world.

    It is possible to make an Effect draw on an Essence by defining it more tightly than the Spheres actually demand. For instance, a Disciple of Entropy Effect can disable any inanimate system, but this would not be a Questing Effect since most inanimate systems don’t block the mage’s movement (it would work fine as a Primordial Effect, since it would be dissolving artificial structures). However, defining the Effect to only target locks, bolts, and fetters in the mage’s path would let it be cast as a Questing Effect, since it would then be clearly in the service of the Questing Avatar’s goals. Assume that the Avatar is sentient and intent on enforcing its idea of the mage’s destiny; it will “bless” certain spells and not others, depending on whether those spells are in line with how it sees its purpose.

    Likewise, it is possible to align an Effect with an Essence by making mundane actions part of its casting. For example, an Apprentice of Entropy Effect to detect a flaw in an enemy’s fighting style can’t be a Primordial Effect, since it can’t be justified as removing a boundary (the flaw, if it exists, is right there – your problem isn’t seeing it, it’s recognising it). However, an Akashic might create an Effect in the form of a “conflict-ending blow” that instantly and non-lethally incapacitated an enemy by unbalancing her at a split instance of weakness. Since the casting of the Effect could only be used to end a fight at least for the time being and could not be used to acquire knowledge without immediately acting on it, it could be justified as a Primordial Effect. The Effects blessed by the Essences can overlap – something could be both a Dynamic Effect and a Questing Effect (such as a personal teleportation spell; both a drastic change and a way for the mage to move into a more advantageous position), or both a Pattern Effect and a Primordial Effect (such as a spell to render poisoned water drinkable; it would at once improve the water for the purposes of being drunk and remove its harmful qualities). However, when codified into a Rote, an Effect always has the Essence chosen by the mage who created the Rote.

    Again, it needs more work, but I think this will actually provide the sort of flavour I want.

    MONSTROUS MISHAPS (FOR ONCE!)

    Finally, I managed to do some actual work on one of my actual original games. Will wonders never cease? I’m trying to get the quickstart for my perpetually-almost-finished game Monstrous Mishaps together. I have gotten to the chapter on GMing, and that’s hard, because… er… I suck at writing GMing advice, as it turns out. It’s funny, I have no problem writing player advice, but for GMs I keep trying to think of something more helpful than, “just do it properly! You know, properly. Like, not in the way that causes me actual pain to watch. Do it in the way that isn’t like that. Jerks.”

    I don’t know. GMing is more an art than a science for me, I guess…

    Anyway, I did manage to put together ten suggested plot hooks, to give the reader a better idea of what sort of thing you get up to in Monster World.

    • A rival Monster managed to dump a barrel full of Jell-Oh over one of the PCs in full view of the Court. Now the PC has to find some way to PWN the prankster right back, or they’ll be a laughingstock for months.
    • Against his better judgment, a PC posted bail for his no-good brother-in-law, and then the jerk failed to show up for his court date. Time to go turn over every rock he might have crawled under, while an inept police detective is certain that the PC is hiding the fugitive and keeps interfering.
    • A PC’s boss is coming over for dinner. Nothing must go wrong! The problem is, the PCs live in a Maze, which is to say, a perverse haunted house with no regard for their career prospects…
    • A PC’s best mate has lost his job and his apartment, and a PC has graciously let him crash at her place until he can get back on his feet. However, after several months of him doing nothing but hanging around pitying himself, the cohabitation is starting to become a drag. The PC is going to have to somehow both find him a new job and get him to shape up enough to keep it.
    • A PC has somehow attracted an annoying Haunting that inflicts a taboo on him – whenever he hears a bell ring, he has to immediately do a silly song and dance routine or else suffer an unlikely and painful accident. There’s a counterspell to get rid of the curse, but it requires a bunch of bizarre ingredients that must be gathered from all over town. Too bad that the annual Bell-Ringing Festival is just around the corner.
    • A PC’s rich aunt wants him to babysit her bratty son for the afternoon. He’d better come back in one piece, or she’ll make some alterations to her will. The kid resents being babysat and has absolutely zero self-preservation.
    • A sneaky Slayer has spread the vicious rumour that a PC has been seen kicking a puppy. The good news is, the animal shelter needs volunteers, giving the PC an excellent opportunity to prove what an animal lover she really is. How hard can it possibly be to take care of a few dozen maladjusted critters with simmering grudges against all of humanity?
    • A PC has inherited an old house that needs to be cleaned out so they can sell it. This will require not only dealing with a bunch of squatters who aren’t happy about being ousted, but a grumpy Haunting that’s just woken up as well.
    • A PC’s ex-husband is refusing to share custody of their pet parakeet. Dragging him to court would probably not help, so there is nothing to it but a bout of parakeet-napping. Problem is, the ex is a Monster too, so it will require traversing his Maze.
    • The lady who accidentally ran into a PC’s mailbox last week is not only refusing to pay for damages. No, she’s also countersuing for emotional damages of the PC having irresponsibly placed a mailbox where innocent people might need to drive. The PC’s enemies are all too happy to offer damning character testimony, so the PC needs to find just as many people to assure the judge of what a nice fellow he is.

    So there you go. Three actual samples of what I’m working on right now. Yes, Aberrant is so bad that it’s driving me to try to do better myself. Which is, admittedly, a positive effect common to many bad games, so perhaps it fills some sort of function in the cosmic order after all…

  • A game of real losers

    A game of real losers

    Monstrous Mishaps came about because I felt thoroughly sick of fake losers.

    The X-Men are really the ur-example here. Don’t get me wrong, I love the X-Men. They’re cool and colourful and dramatic and they fight giant robots, what’s not to like? But the idea that people like them would ever be some kind of oppressed minority is insane. They’re sexy and rich and hyper-competent and they have godlike powers. They wouldn’t inspire hate groups, they’d inspire fan clubs.

    Aberrant, for all its faults, is right on the money there. If people started manifesting incredible powers, then they wouldn’t be hunted down like animals. Nor would they start conspiring to take over the world. They wouldn’t need to. Because all the normies would hand them the world, free of charge! Power is attractive.

    No, it’s weakness that gets persecuted, weakness that – perversely enough – makes people hate and fear you. I blame evolution, frankly. We’re not wired to respond negatively to people who are strong, because those people are dangerous to cross but potentially useful to befriend. We’re wired to respond negatively to anyone who seems sickly and weak, because there’s no downside in pelting them with rocks until they go away. They weren’t going to help us anyway – they lack the ability – and who knows, whatever they have might be contageous.

    Knowing this from (ahem) painful personal experience, any sort of Randian “they hate me because I’m better than them!” moaning has always rubbed me the wrong way. And for someone who loves his fantasy, that’s a bit of a handicap, because fantasy is shock full of the sentiment. It seems like every other setting focuses on some group of supernatural beings who are stronger, smarter and wiser than everyone else, and who inexplicably get kicked around for it.

    So with Monstrous Mishaps, my starting position was this: can I create a group of supernatural beings who really would be kicked around, without making them have done something to earn it? Could I create beings with magical powers that were so useless, and whose weaknesses were so obstructive and crippling, that they’d naturally gravitate towards the very bottom of society?

    And that idea paired off nicely with another one that’s always fascinated me, that of essential identity unsupported by fact. I think it came from reading the Emperor Norton issue of Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman back in the day. Here was a guy who decided that he was the Emperor of America, and was completely unbothered by the fact that no one else took him seriously, because why would an Emperor care what a bunch of peasants thought of him? Of course, his regal dignity was also the only thing that sustained him in the face of a life as a failure and a pauper.

    Or, for a less whimsical example, this angsty short story they made us read in Swedish class, about a guy who through mistaken bureaucracy was declared to be a moose. He ended up having to spend hunting season living at the town zoo since otherwise someone might shoot him without breaking any laws. Now that guy, you must admit, was a real hard-luck case!

    So taking that a step further, what if someone decided they were a dragon, albeit a dragon that inexplicably looked and functioned just like a regular ol’ human being in every way? What would that guy be like, as a character? Well, for one thing, he’d be kind of put upon, feeling like a failure for not getting to roost on a pile of looted gold like a dragon like himself ought to be able to. He’d see himself as a massive underachiever, wouldn’t he?

    So from there, I started sketching out my supernatural Real True Losers, the Monsters. I did give them some supernatural powers, because I felt like it’d provide some flavour, but I tried my hardest to make those powers as underwhelming as possible – the sort of abilities characters in most supernatural games could pull off right out of the gate, I placed at the end of a long and painful learning curve. I also added some supernatural weaknesses, the metaphysical equivalent of Mr. Moose Guy’s exile to the zoo, and made them as bothersome as I could manage without making the characters completely unplayable.

    And, like I outlined in a previous post, the setting of Monster World sort of grew up around that concept. It turned out that while the Monsters might be more benighted than most, no one in the setting was particularly successful. In fact, in the end I decided that Monsters weren’t even oppressed, at least not in any systemic way – their failure at living up to their archetypes was so complete that no one even cared, except for the Slayers (and mostly because they were all even more pathetic!).

    So in the end, I guess I didn’t quite achieve my goal of creating a genuine, realistic oppressed supernatural group. But hey, them’s the breaks. If I was used to succeeded at stuff, I wouldn’t have been inspired to make a whole game about failing!

  • So what is Monster World?

    So what is Monster World?

    The setting for Monstrous Mishaps just kind of developed on its own, and along the way turned out to be in a lot of ways more interesting than the actual Monsters it’s named for. When I first started sketching on the Monster Breeds, they inhabited some sort of vaguely gothic-punk reality, since – not to blow your mind or anything – I was mostly working off of a World of Darkness template, only with everything made as pathetic as possible. There were mentions of knives gleaming in dark alleys and Klutzes fleeing from angry mobs after they accidentally killed someone. It was, all in all, both derivative and kind of pretentious.

    But at some point, I started smoothing out the sharp edges. The fights became less deadly. The conflicts became more at the same time more frantic and with lower stakes. Characters stopped moaning in agony and started sighing in aggravation. It all developed more of a cartoony feel, with bright pastels replacing the shades of grey.

    At the same time, I was hard at work coming up with potential plot hooks for the setting. After all, my complaint about a lot of games is that they don’t give you a sense of what you should actually be doing with all those interesting setpieces. And what I ended up going back to were the sort of sitcoms and Disney comics that I grew up watching and reading. That fit nicely with the more upbeat feel of the characters, and in the end it sort of crystallized into a simple concept: Monster World is a place where people care about things in reverse proportion to how much they actually matter.

    Thus, to create a scenario in Monster World, just put the stakes as absurdly low as you can, and then have every GMC act like the fate of the world depends on them. You have a job delivering pizzas, and your annoying in-law is determined to delay you enough that he gets his pizza for free! Your neighbor borrowed your lawnmower and won’t return it, and has put up traps all over his property to keep you from stealing it back! At the same time, the actual risks and concerns should be treated as irrelevant – nothing really bad is going to happen, and things will more or less go back to normal by the next Story.

    This works really surprisingly well for creating silly situations that will make the players feel faintly ridiculous just for having to engage with them. And the rule system – which functions best when trying to do relatively simple things under trying circumstances, and where basic competence is so rare as to be almost a superpower – works really pretty well for it. As one of my play testers put it, take out the Monsters and it’s basically 90s Sitcom: The RPG.

    Which does make me wonder if maybe I would have been better off just ignoring the urban fantasy pastiche altogether… but, well, it’s a little late to revamp the whole thing now. Still, it might be an idea for a supplement somewhere down the line. I could call it Suburban Silliness

  • Monstrous mojo

    Monstrous mojo

    All right, day two of my let’s-get-this-stupid-quickstart-finished marathon. I’ve read through everything I’d written so far and found it more or less passable, though I should probably put in one of those boring sections in the front that explained just what in tarnation this thing even is. I mean, I don’t know who would download this stuff without already having a pretty good idea, but somehow it just feels incomplete without it. Anyway, for now I’ve written up the combat section (unusually sparse, in this game – in my experience of playtesting it, fights do happen, but they tend to be short and frantic and undignified, so they don’t need a lot of complicated rules) and I’m working on the spellcasting system.

    That spellcasting system is one that I’m quite proud of, though I concede that there is probably some room for improvement. It draws a little on the freeform magic system from Angel, with some Unknown Armies and Mage: the Ascension thrown in for salt, but I’ve also added some additional structure to make it easier for the GM to manage.

    In its simplest form, it really just comes down to everyone in Monster World being able to work ritual spells. There is a single Ability for it called Hocuspocus, and any spell you might find or invent has a Challenge Level to cast, and if you pass the Challenge it goes off. Sounds a little too simple, right?

    Well, there are two things limiting you from just flinging around magic to solve all your problems. The first is it’s all gated by GM approval. You can cast only what spells that GM tells you you can cast at any given time – even if you’ve already cast a certain spell several times, the mystical conditions can have changed and now it won’t work again for another few centuries. Now, the GM is encouraged to provide at least some kind of suggestion for a spell you could attempt when you want to attempt a spell, because just saying “no” is always boring, but you’ll take what you can get.

    The second thing is the Conditions. See, every spell comes with between two and six Conditions: Cost, Blood Sacrifice, Complexity, Side-Effects, Misfire and Retribution. Cost means that you need something that you can get hold of fairly easily but not in unlimited amounts – you’ll have to spend either money or goodwill. Blood Sacrifice means that it’ll cost HP, either your own or someone else’s. Complexity means that there are some sort of finicky requirements that you’ll need to satisfy, requiring you to either go on a mini-adventure or otherwise have to rearrange your plans for them.

    The second half of the Conditions are sneaky, because when they apply, the GM won’t tell you until after the spell has been cast. Side-Effects mean exactly that, when the spell takes effect something else happens in addition to what it said in the recipe. Misfire, on the other hand, means that the spell just plain does something different than what you were told it would do, though it’ll probably still be in the general area – for example, you might cast a spell for being able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, and instead it turns you into a human rubber ball who can bounce over tall buildings (and then keep bouncing all the way down the block, because rubber balls aren’t known for being able to break on a dime). Retribution, finally, means that you get afflicted by a hostile force that keeps making your life miserable for some period of time after the spell is cast.

    Every spell has at least two Conditions, and the ones that have more get their Challenge Level for casting them lowered by one per Condition. That way, even some top-level spells might be available to novice sorcerers, albeit at considerable effort and cost. And again, the GM is the one who decides precisely what spells are and are not available to you at any given time. She might present you with one that can turn your worst enemy into a toad and which still only requires an Advanced Hocuspocus Challenge and no exotic ingredients, and you know that that means it’s got some subset of Side-Effects, Misfire and Retribution baked into it, but it’s tempting, isn’t it? You kind of want to do it just to see what happens, don’t you?

    That’s the idea. The sweet spot is meant to be riiiiiight where magic is probably strictly speaking more trouble than it’s worth, but it’s still sexy enough that the players want to try it anyway. Then the GM can just sit back and cackle maniacally, which is a thing that any true GM loves to do.

  • Introducing Monstrous Mishaps (properly, that is)

    Introducing Monstrous Mishaps (properly, that is)

    This being my third and final week of Christmas vacation, I have resolved to get my rear in gear and actually do some work on the Monstrous Mishaps quickstart. And while I’m at it, and just to keep my mind on track, I should probably post some information about the game here, too. After all, the blog is named after it, and I originally started it so I could have a place to promote it. It’s just that, being scatterbrained, I ended up talking about absolutely everything other than what I meant to. Oh well. Let’s see about making an actual introduction.

    Monstrous Mishaps takes place in a place called Monster World, which is a looser and sillier version of our own world. It is a world right out of a wacky sitcom or sardonic cartoon, where epic feuds are fought over petty disagreements, people turn their character defects into fervently held ideals, everything seems set up to be as annoying and unhelpful as possible, and no one ever solves a problem by common sense if a madcap scheme will do. Everything that can go wrong will go wrong, but rarely in a way that will actually matter in the long run, and hilarity ensues at the drop of a hat.

    It’s also a world where some people are Monsters – Dragons and Goblins and Werewolves and Aliens and all the staples of pulp fantasy. But in keeping with Monster World’s general perversity, Monsters are only nominally Monsters. That is to say, they don’t look like Monsters, they don’t have the power of Monsters, and for the most parts they don’t even act like Monsters, but by some kind of obnoxious cosmic law they just are Monsters. Which kind of sucks for them, to be honest. It’s hard enough being a working schmoe without the world insisting that you are, in some ineffable way, a Giant. Especially when you keep getting fined for accidentally knocking buildings over, even though you shouldn’t reasonably be able to knock buildings over, and certainly can’t seem to do it on purpose.

    In Monstrous Mishaps, you play one of these long-suffering people as they go about their life. Think of it as urban fantasy playing out as a 90s sitcom. Your goal is to go about your life, impress your crush, keep from getting fired from your job, and foil your annoying neighbour’s attempts to mess with you, all of which is made harder by having a persistent and embarrassing metaphysical condition. It’s meant to be light, breezy, and poking fun at absolutely everything within poking range.

    Mechanically, the game uses an innovative diceless system where you have a fixed set of Abilities ranked with a Score of between 1 and 15. The Score translates into a Level: a Score of 1 is a Minimal Level, indicating the sort of thing that just about any bozo can do, a Score of 2-3 is a Limited Level, indicating a hint of talent or an amateur interest, and so on. When you try to do anything, the Game Master sets a Challenge Score for you to reach, sprinkles with situational Modifiers to taste, and checks whether you’re good enough to succeed or not.

    You can also goose your skill by spending Grit Points, which double your Score (after Modifiers) for the purposes of that one Challenge. You regain Grit Points by maintaining good relations to the important people in your life and by living up to the moral Values you’ve picked for yourself. Conversely, acting contrary to those Values makes you lose Grit Points – having the courage of your convictions is very important for a health self-esteem!

    That’s about the short version. I’ll try to add some more later in the week.

  • A matter of time

    A matter of time

    I’ve gotten a bit more work in on my Monstrous Mishaps quickstart. I’ve been thinking, too, that perhaps I’ve been looking at it wrong. Instead of feeling like I’m just writing the same game again but with less stuff in it, I should take it as an opportunity to identify the parts that are important and the parts that aren’t? God knows, I threw in everything but the kitchen sink when I wrote this thing. It might not be the worst thing in the world to consider whether I actually need all of it.

    For example, the Interval rules. Now, in theory I think those are pretty solid. They are essentially a way to manage time-keeping in game, and let different things take different amounts of time without too much nitty-gritty counting of seconds and minutes. And taking significant extra time with a task – as in, spending hours instead of minutes of it, for instance – gives you a big boost to your action, because it should.

    But when I think back to my playtesting… I’m not sure I’ve actually used the system terribly much? Maybe it’s the players I have, but no one ever did say, “okay, I just spend as long on this as it takes.” They usually wanted to be done in a reasonable time or not at all. Likewise, I like the idea of putting events on a timer and counting down to when things happened, but the game actually ran better those times I didn’t do that but let things happen more or less as I felt like.

    Maybe I should be on the lookout for things that should quite frankly be simpler. I’m not going to edit the whole game all over again, because I don’t think I’d ever finish if I did, but still… it might be handy to have a simpler version available. And if nothing else, there’s always the second edition.

  • Breeds of Monsters

    Breeds of Monsters

    This week, I have started hammering away on my Monstrous Mishaps quickstart again. I absolutely need one of those, because I need something I can hand out for free to give people a sense of what the game is all about, so that they might become inclined to pay me actual money for it… but man, it’s not exactly playing to my strengths. As my snarkier friends love to remind me, keeping it short and sweet isn’t really my thing. Adding another 200 pages so I can be absolutely certain I made myself clear, that’s my thing.

    Still, I’ve made some progress on the brief descriptions of my game’s splats – “Breeds” in the game’s nomenclature. The following are my five favourite ones out of the total twelve. See, I’m leaving the other seven out for now! I can be brief! Though it pains me.

    BREEDS

    The first thing you need to do when creating a character is choose a Breed. Your Breed is the sort of creature the world insists that you “intrinsically” are; a shambling Zombie, a foul-smelling Harpy, or some other character straight out of fantasy central casting. Most Monsters surrender to the strictures of their Breed to some extent, since it seems to be no escaping them, and at least being a Monster gives you an excellent excuse for not being socially acceptable (“of course I haven’t done the vacuuming – I’m one of the walking dead! You should be amazed I can do anything other than decompose!”). Others try to fight against it, usually with limited results (“crap, my B.O. is back. Guess it’s time to take the sixteenth shower of the day…”).

    Each Breed is marked out by having a particular curse, a Bane, that applies to it. It also provides access to a set of special powers called a Doom. Both are described along with their associated Breed. In the game proper, each Breed has several Dooms and several Banes, but for this quickstart, we’ll make it easy for ourselves and stick to one each.

    A Doom provides several different powers, one for each Level of the Doom. Since in the quickstart each Monster is assumed to have reached the Limited Level of its Breed’s Doom, your character has ready access to the Minimal and Limited powers for his Doom, can make a one-time use of the Basic power by spending 1 GP, and can make a one-time use of the Advanced power by spending 3 GP. Don’t worry too much about what any of that means – we’ll go over it in more detail later.

    Each Breed is called by the name of the mythological beast it designates a Monster as being, but each one also has another, more informal name, that reflects how other Monsters tend to see it. Thus, Dragons are also known as “Hoarders” for their obsessive collecting of one thing or another. The two names are used interchangeably through the rest of the quickstart.

    CREEP (GOBLIN)

    Creeps can’t seem to help getting on people’s nerves. Part of it is their habit of, well, creeping around and spying on people, all in the service of their insatiable curiosity. Part of it is the attempt to use rote memorisation of pop psychology as a substitute for developing actual people skills. But mostly, there is just something about them that ticks people off, something that makes them give off an air of perversity and weakness that makes others want to punch them on general principle. This, needless to say, just gives the Creeps more incentive to skulk and hide, making them even creepier and easier to hate, and furthering the vicious cycle. Their mythological source appears to be Goblins or the nastier and more old-fashioned kind of fairies.

    Bane: Abhorrent Face. It doesn’t matter how hard a Creep tries to please others; it always comes across as incredibly slapable. Once per Session, the GM may have an NPC physically assault the Creep on the flimsiest pretext. The NPC is only affected for a moment, so after taking the initial swing he might immediately calm down and be shocked and apologetic, unless of course he’s the sort of person who takes a pride in always finishing what he’s started.

    Doom: Fae’s Trickery. Goblins are mysterious and elusive, or at least slippery little bastards who never seem to be around when you’re looking for them. The Doom of Fae’s Trickery is one of stealth, illusion, and getting out of trouble – a highly useful skill for a Breed that’s always in hot water.

    • Minimal Fae’s Trickery: Just Pretend I’m Not Here. The Creep can make itself undetectable, for an Interval of Minutes, in any way by anyone who does not pass a Minimal Grit Challenge. Since almost no one has less than Minimal Grit, this in practice means that the Creep can only hide from people who not only have low Grit in the first place but who for some reason suffers Disadvantages to Grit Challenges – for instance, the intoxicated, the exhausted, or those in serious pain. If the Creep does anything other than stand or walk very slowly while keeping absolutely quiet, the effect immediately ends.
    • Limited Fae’s Trickery: Please Not Me. Whenever the GM declares that the someone targets the Creep at random with any Action (e.g., an angry dog deciding who of two intruders in its yard to bite), the Creep can use this power to redirect the unwanted attention to another possible party. This does not work when the Creep is the only possible target, nor when the attention is evenly spread over all possible targets (e.g., if there were two angry dogs in the yard, each would naturally go for a different intruder; this power could not be used to make both of them go for the Creep’s companion). This trick sees much use from teenage Goblins who don’t want to be called on to answer questions in class.
    • Basic Fae’s Trickery: No Soul. The Creep can cause itself to have no reflection in mirrors for an Interval of Minutes. During this time it also does not show up video recordings or photographs. The same goes for any other technological way of detecting someone’s presence, like proximity alarms, etc. The Creep remains fully visible to the regular human senses. Edge cases may create strange results – for instance, a near-sighted person would see the Creep through her spectacles looking as blurry as if she wasn’t wearing them, even though everything else in her field of vision remains clear.
    • Advanced Fae’s Trickery: Behind A Single Blade of Grass. The Creep makes itself capable, for an Interval of Minutes, of hiding even in the complete absence of any visual cover or concealment; effectively, the Disadvantage caused by lack of cover is completely negated. The Creep must still win a Hiding vs Keenness Contest against the people it tries to hide from as normal, and any Disadvantages not related to cover still apply normally.

    HOARDER (DRAGON)

    Hoarders like to, well, hoard things. Usually it’s some weirdly specific thing, like porcelain cats or works of Czech literature in their original language. Whatever it is, the Hoarder is constantly scheming to get more, better, and rarer specimens to increase its mostly worthless treasure trove, even if it means spending its last dime or getting thrown in prison for it. Their mythical origin seems to be the cunning, greedy Dragon, forever roosting on its pile of gold.

    Bane: It Must Be Mine! Hey, a Hoarder’s gotta hoard. The PC has an obsessive need to collect some sort of items. It starts each Story having picked out some moderately hard-to-get-hold-of item that it absolutely must have for its collection (if it was trivially easy to get hold of, it’d have already have gotten it). Until it has managed to secure the object, it is distracted and doesn’t notice what’s going on around it, taking a Moderate Disadvantage to all Keenness Challenges.

    Doom: Wyrm’s Discernment. Dragons are cunning and wise, capable of seeing what others cannot and of spotting things of value where others see only dross.

    • Minimal Wyrm’s Discernment: Read the Writing on the Wall. By passing this Challenge, the Monster can instinctively know which of the people and objects currently within its line of sight are in some way “important.” Precisely what that means is up to the GM; generally, it means whether they have a major part to play in a currently ongoing adventure (for instance, named GMCs are usually “important”). The power imparts no further information, but it does make it possible to make cryptic utterances that will later make it seem like you knew what was coming all along.
    • Limited Wyrm’s Discernment: Ooooh, Look at The Colours… Passing this Challenge enhances an Understanding vs Bullshitting or Understanding vs Grit Contest to get an idea for a GMC’s personality, granting a Minor Advantage to the Monster by giving it a vision of a coloured aura around the target. The power also tells the Monster whether the target is currently acting under some kind of duress, though if they are it provides no insight into just how and why and by who they are compelled.
    • Basic Wyrm’s Discernment: Nose For Gold. By passing this Challenge, the Monster immediately knows the location of the most object that is most valuable or useful to the Monster (by the GM’s best estimation, and as the Monster defines value) within an area roughly equivalent to a large room. It does not provide any information about the nature of the prize. The usefulness of the object can depend on factors that the Monster is not currently aware of, e.g., if the Monster is about to be attacked the power might point it to the closest convenient improvised weapon.
    • Advanced Wyrm’s Discernment: By the Pricking of My Thumbs… For an Interval of Minutes after passing this Challenge, the Monster can sense the presence and rough direction of any immediate threats to its person, its friends and its property. When applicable, this grants a Major Advantage to Keenness Challenges to spot and identify such threats by the normal senses.

    KLUTZ (GIANT)

    Klutzes take up too much space. It doesn’t matter how large or small they physically are, they still can’t seem to fit comfortably inside regular human-sized buildings, and certainly they can’t be trusted with breakable human furniture. Accordingly, Klutzes tend to walk through life with the put-upon air of people who spend a lot of their time apologising and promising to pay for the damages. They appear to be intended to be some kind of Giants, or possibly trolls – some kind of big, clumsy thing that’s prone to stepping in it, at any rate.

    Bane: World of Cardboard. Once per Session when the Klutz does something that requires speed or finesse, the GM can declare that it breaks some inanimate object. It can be anything, up to and including entire buildings, but it’s never organic or sentient (because that’d just be too sad!).

    Doom: Titan’s Prowess. Unsurprisingly, the Giants’ Doom revolves around being very big and strong.

    • Minimal Titan’s Prowess: Mr. Muscle. The Giant can cause its muscles to swell and bulge to grotesque size for a few seconds. Unless the Giant’s clothes are unusually spacious or flexible, they burst and are reduced to tatters. Any restraints the Giant is in are also destroyed, though the Giant takes damage from the process depending on how sturdy the restraints were, on the general Level of 1 HP for cloth, 5 HP for rope or 10 HP for chains. The display is also unsettling and may provide a Minor Advantage to Volume Challenges against people who saw it, at the GM’s discretion.
    • Limited Titan’s Prowess: Fists of Fury. The Giant causes its bare hands and feet to have the weight and hardness of solid stone, and therefore count as a Minimal Weapon. The effects last for an Interval of Minutes.
    • Basic Titan’s Prowess: Made of Iron. The Giant gives itself 3 extra HP. These HP are lost before any of its normal HP are lost. The power does not restore any lost HP; current injuries remain, only future ones are lessened. If the power is used when the Monster still has one or more extra HP left from previous uses of the power, the old extra HP immediately disappear. The effects last for an Interval of Minutes.
    • Advanced Titan’s Prowess: That Hideous Strength. The Monster can break and destroy any inanimate object that it can hold in its hands or wrap its arms around, regardless of how durable it is.

    LOUDMOUTH (HARPY)

    Loudmouths are, well, loud. In fact, they tend to have a thing about drawing attention in general – positive or negative doesn’t matter so much, what’s important is that everyone looks at them and only them, all the time. In this, they seem to be the avatars of the mystical Harpy, a dirty and disagreeable creature that was also big on screeching to high heavens. This is not to say that they are an all-female Breed, mind. In fact, those Loudmouths who are of the feminine persuasion often feel that being obnoxious, overbearing, and in dire need of shower seems to be more socially acceptable for men, and that this double standard is definitely something that needs to be pointed out as often and with as much volume as possible.

    Bane: Shutterbug. The PC thrives on attention and can’t stand feeling unseen and ignored. It has a Moderate Disadvantage to all Challenges where no one can see what it’s doing. That means all Challenges performed in solitude (though a webcam counts as someone watching) and also all Bullshitting, Trickery and Hiding Challenges where the PC obscures its true motivations and actions from all the people watching. However, the PC can still hide its actions from some or all the people present without penalty, if it has told at least one present person ahead of time what it’s planning to do so that he can see how clever it’s being as it does it.

    Doom: Garuda’s Swiftness. It is the way of the Harpy to soar on the high winds, or at least to be very quick to get away from people trying to beat it up. The Doom of Garuda’s Swiftness embodies this need for speed.

    • Minimal Garuda’s Swiftness: The Hand Is Faster Than the Eye. For an Interval of Minutes after passing the Challenge, the Loudmouth blurs oddly when it moves, seeming to snap from stance to stance so quickly that its motions can’t be seen. This does not bestow any actual speed – its limbs stay still for the same amount of time they would otherwise have spent moving before suddenly blinking to their new position – but it looks cool. It also grants a Minor Advantage to Trickery Challenges that rely on hiding what the Harpy does with its hands. This explicitly includes picking pockets.
    • Limited Garuda’s Swiftness: Dance Like a Butterfly. Passing this Challenge grants an immediate Moderate Advantage to a single Asskicking vs Asskicking Contest where the Loudmouth is being purely defensive, trying to dodge and weave and avoid being hit.
    • Basic Garuda’s Swiftness: Ah-HUP! Passing this Challenge while standing near an immobile straight vertical surface immediately makes the Loudmouth float up along it like a soap bubble, ending up at the top of it after an Interval of Seconds. The precise height of the edifice does not make a difference as long as it rises straight up at roughly a ninety-degree angle; tall trees and skyscrapers can be ascended with equal ease. Note that the power does not offer any opportunity to steer, nor any protection against obstacles; using this on an indoor wall will lead to you bumping your head on the ceiling before falling down again, and when scaling a mighty redwood it is advisable to first check that there aren’t any sturdy branches immediately above you.
    • Advanced Garuda’s Swiftness: A Leaf on the Wind. For an Interval of Minutes after passing this Challenge, the Harpy does not take any damage from falling, no matter how high the fall. While it doesn’t fall “slowly,” it effectively stops accelerating after the first meter or so, causing it to land hard, but not hard enough to cause injury.

    MOOCHER (VAMPIRE)

    Moochers mean well, really. They just have this… thing they have to have, often and in great quantities. Just what it is varies, and it’s usually something silly; some Moochers absolutely have to eat themselves sick on sour cream bagels, others need to apply overpriced beauty products to their tender skin. And the problem is, being honest about having a problem somehow removes all the satisfaction from it. Thus, Moochers are forced to lie, scheme and connive to get their fix, and have their sorely strained friendships and relationships to show for it. They resemble somewhat shabby Vampires, out to charm the unwary… though their ultimate aim is not to sink their teeth into their victims’ throats, just to borrow some money.

    Bane: Horror Hunger. The PC has a supernatural addiction to some sort of activity or physical sensation (choose one when creating the character), and if it doesn’t get to binge on a regular basis it grows weak and haggard. Once per Story, the PC must indulge in a virtual orgy of its particular craving, or else it starts the next Story at 3 HP below its maximum. The player needs to negotiate some sufficiently over-the-top way of binging on their addiction with the GM – if what he suggests is too easily achievable, the GM is perfectly within rights to raise the stakes in whatever way she can think of.

    There is one hard and fast rule for this Bane – the binge must be acquired in a way that does not involve any other person’s agency in any way. Horror Hunger is about personal, selfish gratification – the moment someone else gets involved, it spoils the satisfaction. Thus, the binge cannot involve anything being given (as that requires someone else to willingly participate) or taken (as that requires violating someone else’s agency) but only stolen (whether literally through picking a pocket or breaking into a house under cover of night, or figuratively by lies and deceit). Vampires are decidedly icky with their skulking and scheming to get what they want, but they are also physically harmless – they can’t violently force someone to give them what they want, no more than they can forthrightly ask for it.

    Doom: Siren’s Voice. Moochers have a preternatural ability to charm and beguile people, all the better to take advantage of them.

    • Minimal Siren’s Voice: Eyes Meeting Across the Room. By passing this Challenge, the Moocher causes another nearby person to notice and look at it, without knowing why.
    • Limited Siren’s Voice: Charm You with A Smile. Passing this Challenge enhances a single Schmoozing vs Grit or Bullshitting vs Understanding Contest where the Vampire is trying to persuade or cajole someone into something, removing all Disadvantages caused by unfamiliarity. The target instinctively and irrationally feels like the Vampire is a long-time casual acquaintance, even if they only just met; while it does not in any way predispose her to do any favours for it, she will not show any reluctance caused solely by not having known it for long. All other Modifiers apply normally.
    • Basic Siren’s Voice: To Me, My Minion! By passing this Challenge, the Moocher makes a single human who it has met in person instinctively know where the Moocher is and what its current dominant emotion is (for instance, the human will know if the Moocher is currently fearing for its life). The power works irrespectively of distance. The target has no direct compulsion to do anything, though if he cares about the Moocher and is inclined to trust his intuition he will probably come running if he gets the sudden sense that it needs him. Likewise, a human who knows about this power will know that getting a sense of irritated impatience with an address attached means that the Moocher wants him to come and get yelled at over something.
    • Advanced Siren’s Voice: Promise You the World. By passing this Challenge, the Vampire compels a single person to believe it when it claims that it will reward him in a certain way if its terms are met. The target is not forced to take the bargain, but he is forced to believe that it is a genuine and honest one and is incapable of even imagining that the Vampire might go back on its word on this subject. The Vampire must be reasonably capable of performing the named service to the best of the target’s knowledge for the power to work; if it promises to pay the target a million dollars, the target must have reasonable cause to believe that the Vampire possesses or can acquire a million dollars.

  • The Challenge System

    The Challenge System

    I didn’t really do much this week, so let’s talk about something I’ve had almost finished for years now: the resolution system for my great work-in-progress, Monstrous Mishaps. I call it the Challenge System, for lack of a better name.

    The thing that stands out with the Challenge System is that it’s entirely free from randomisers – not just “diceless” (a term people keep applying to games that rely on alternate randomisers, like card draws or coin flips, to my constant annoyance) but completely deterministic, with no randomness except the GM’s whimsy and the players’ refusal to stick to the plot. Because let’s be honest, those two are more than enough!

    The Challenge System gives each character a set of Abilities, twelve Primary Abilities that are bought and raised individually, and twelve Derived Abilities that are each calculated as the average between two Primary Abilities. For example, your Score in Bullshitting (telling lies) is the average between your Score in Schmoozing (charm and charisma) and your Score in Mindgames (psychology).

    Each Ability has a Score that usually goes from 1 to 15. The Score translates into a Level, as such:

    Score 1: Minimal Level, the sort of thing anyone can do just by being a healthy adult.

    Score 2-3: Limited Level, the equivalent of a natural talent or passing interest.

    Score 4-7: Basic Level, the equivalent of professional skill; the I-do-this-for-a-living sort of competence.

    Score 8-15: Advanced Level, the peak of consistent human performance.

    There are three more Levels: Heroic (Score 16-31, anything Batman could do), Epic (Score 32-63, anything Superman could do), and Godlike (Score 64+, anything no one could possibly do), but Player Characters can’t have those in their Abilities. So why do I bring them up? Stay tuned, I’ll get to it.

    When the players try to do something, the GM assigns it a Challenge Score (and associated Challenge Level) equal to the Ability Score it would reasonably take to accomplish it. So anything a seasoned professional might do within an Ability would be a Basic Challenge for that Ability. Advantages come in categories of +1, +3, +5, +10 and so on. They matter the most in Contests (where one character matches one of their Abilities against one of another character’s) since for regular Challenges you can just set the Challenge Score to anything you want to start with.

    Finally, you can apply Upshifts and Downshifts. Those can come from any source that dramatically change the parameters of the Challenge, such as drastically extending or shortening the time the character has to work in, but the most common source of Upshifts is from paying Grit Points (of which a character has a fixed amounts). Paying 1 Grit Points gives one Upshift, while paying 3 Grit Points gives two Upshifts. An Upshift multiplies the Ability Score (after adding Advantages) by 2, and thus also increasing the Ability Level by one step. Downshifts do the same to Challenge Scores.

    If, after all this, the Ability Score is equal to or higher than the Challenge Score, the character succeeded. Otherwise they failed.

    I’ve playtested the system extensively, and it’s actually really smooth once you get used to it. When it comes right down to it, it’s just about deciding whether it would make sense for a character to succeed at something. And it’s nice, sometimes, to always get a result that fits the scene, instead of having come up with ways to justify the swinginess that comes from die rolls.