#thirteenth hour

[lemurlord]

The thing about Casey Slimeball is that she is probably the only losergirl cape that even approaches the loser energy of the canonical apex losergirl - Thirteenth Hour.

[pixelgrotto]

D&D With My Bro: The Case of the Grandmotherly Ghost

Last weekend my brother and I concluded our second homebrew Dungeons & Dragons campaign starring Lester LeFoe and Claudia Copperhoof, two private detectives from Tartec, a setting that my bro created for his fantasy series The Thirteenth Hour. I called it The Case of the Grandmotherly Ghost, and it was quite different in scope from its predecessor, The Case of the Almost Assassination. That first adventure was based entirely within a city and focused on our heroes preventing a political assassination, and it was much more of a Holmesian urban investigation inspired by the Professor Layton and Ace Attorney games. In contrast, the theme of this second campaign was “the great outdoors,” and I wanted to create something that gave me an excuse to use a more traditional D&D framework - that of adventurers going to a quiet village and solving problems for townsfolk. You can watch the whole adventure on YouTube here (along with our first), and I’ll highlight a few of my influences in this post, since I think it might be an interesting thought process for anyone working on their own campaign. 

The hook getting Lester and Claudia to leave the capital city was the titular “grandmotherly ghost” haunting Aquaria, a small farming community. It turned out that the ghost was actually the former headmistress of the town orphanage, and she was simply trying to warn residents that the new orphanage master was a shady fellow with magic at his disposal who had secretly been brainwashing children and selling them to the barbarians of the Wild Lands, an uncharted grasslands region full of deadly beasts. And despite their seeming acceptance of slavery, the barbarians weren’t exactly bad guys either - they were more like a disenfranchised minority trying to maintain a tenuous peace with the Tartec king while fighting against a vicious sea serpent named Ungar who had recently invaded their turf. The only reason they needed the kids was to power an old steampunk robot known as the Clockwork Dragon which was the only thing capable of killing Ungar, and this gizmo had been created by a quirky wizard who loved children and made constructs that could only be used by orphans. 

So in other words, there were a whole lot of twists in the plot, which started as a ghost hunt in a village but quickly ballooned into a full-out exploration of the Wild Lands and the uncovering of a conspiracy. I’ve always felt that small, so-called “idyllic” towns actually hide a lot of creepy secrets behind an illusion of peace, and my character, Claudia, even comments on this at one point, talking about how cities are places where people are more likely to stab you in the open, but little villages are places where people are more likely to stab you in your sleep. Stephen King, one of my favorite authors, also subscribes to this notion, which is why he sets most of his works in weird Maine suburbs rather than cities. In interviews for Salem’s Lot, his book about vampires infesting a town, he actually mentions that if Dracula came back in this day and age and tried to take over New York City, he’d probably get run over by a car before making it very far. But a sleepy village in the middle of nowhere? He’d conquer that sort of place slowly but surely, and that’s the reasoning I kept remembering while designing both the town of Aquaria and Albertus Alright, the new orphanage master and probably the only real “villain” in our campaign, aside from Ungar the sea serpent herself. 

Speaking of villains, I mentioned earlier that the barbarians who play such a large role in this story weren’t exactly bad guys. This was an important thing that I wanted to develop, because real life rarely has the mustache-twirling baddies of fiction - just people who are often radically intent on accomplishing their goals. Around the time when I was brainstorming this adventure, I was reading Scalped, which is a great comic series by Jason Aaron and R. M. Guéra about life on a South Dakota Native American reservation. It highlights the crime, corruption, poverty and preservation of cultural identity that many of these reservations grapple with, and I found this to be inspiring stuff when designing the barbarians and their Wild Land home. I basically tried to portray them as natives who’d been abused and quarantined off in a tiny area by a larger, more powerful government, which is frankly what’s happened to most aboriginal peoples across the globe, not just in the United States. Within the fantasy setting of the campaign, the big government power was the Tartec empire of King Darian IV, and there was a small segment of the barbarians - the Clawrunner tribe - who resented this oppression and ended up getting their hands on the Clockwork Dragon, a weapon that could’ve given them the upper hand against the Tartec forces if they’d wanted to use it in such a way. Luckily, they were more focused on killing the sea serpent razing their homeland, and Lester and Claudia essentially served as neutral go-betweens, encouraging them to not engage in terrorism or cause a war that would’ve quickly gotten out of hand. If only real life could have such quick ‘n easy resolutions!

On the topic of sea serpents and mecha dragons, one of the other main tropes of traditional D&D that I wanted to inject into this quest was that of the monster. Aside from a crocodile and some snakes in the sewers, the last campaign I’d played through with my brother had mostly featured human enemies, simply because there aren’t many deadly creatures to be found within a city. (Though you could probably argue that humans are the worst monsters of all!) Venturing into the wilderness gave me the excuse to go through the Monster Manual and pull out some of the beasties that make tabletop RPGs fun, though since my brother’s world isn’t the sort of place that has humanoids like orcs, goblinkin or mind flayers, I decided to focus on the more animal-esque D&D creatures that are naturally found in forests and grasslands - stuff like the owlbear (one of my faves), the griffon, the bulette and a few mutated, more powerful versions of mammals found in our world, like rhinos and wolves. When I was designing the Wild Lands section of the adventure I also became aware of the Baby Bestiary - a wonderful series of third party D&D supplements by Metal Weave Games that provides details on younger versions of classic creatures - and I was so enamored of the concept that I wrote a turning point where Lester and Claudia can choose to adopt either an infant griffon or an infant owlbear. My brother went with the griffon, naming it Sparky, and it’ll hopefully grown to be a strong companion (Pokemon style) in future adventures. 

I had one more thing I wanted to pull off with monsters in this campaign - a throwdown in the finale between the Clockwork Dragon, which could be powered by Lester, Claudia and the orphans like a medieval Voltron, and the sea serpent Ungar. This was inspired by a phase I went through about two years ago where I watched nearly all of the Godzilla movies in a row. When I finished, I kept trying to figure out how to implement kaiju battles into a tabletop RPG, because surprisingly nobody’s really done this successfully yet, though board games like King of Tokyo have come close. I finally decided that the best way to do it would be to give relatively low level playable characters temporary control of a giant beast with high level stats. So Lester and Claudia, two seventh level characters, got to choose from abilities meant for a Challenge Rating 14 dragon, giving them access to stuff like Legendary Actions and rechargeable fire breath. Their opponent was also a high level dragon with similar capabilities, and the resulting combat went better than I expected and communicated (as best as you can in a tabletop RPG, anyway) the scale and power that comes with the best big monster fights. I’ll probably end up recycling the idea again for another D&D group - in this one DM + one player game, it was just my brother controlling all of the Clockwork Dragon’s actions, but I think it would be fun with a larger group to have one player control the movement, one control the attacks, one the Legendary Actions, etc. 

All in all, The Case of the Grandmotherly Ghost took about 11 sessions and 24 hours to complete, which is roughly on par with The Case of the Almost Assassination. 20-30 hours seems to be the amount of content that I subconsciously end up creating when I design a campaign, which is interesting, because about four years ago on this blog I wrote (in a poorly written fashion, I now find) a post about how 30-ish hours is probably my ideal length for a gaming experience. The next adventure my bro and I will be embarking upon with Lester and Claudia - The Case of the Troubled Territory - might end up hitting that mark as well, though I do plan to experiment and hopefully make it more open-ended than this past one, which checked off most of my bullet points but was slightly too linear at moments.

At any rate, now that we’ve conquered the great outdoors, the theme for the next quest will be “Arabian Nights!” Who knows what future rolls lie in store for our heroes? Expect another campaign deconstruction in…five or six months time, hopefully!

[gildedtyrant]

❝ a kind of pale jewel, open and closed ❞

[doodledumping-ground]

This is a picture I have kept a secret for YONKS and I finally got to use it last week X3 Oh man it was great. Okay, background info. I created a counter organisation to the TOP agency that Polarity (ICONs hero) belongs to. They are named the 13th Hour and they each have a codename based off a butterfly common name C: Can you guess any of their codenames? C;

Can’t wait for them to show up again, real soon X3

[pixelgrotto]

D&D With My Bro: The Case of the Almost Assassination

For the last four months, my brother and I have been playing a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that I whipped up called The Case of the Almost Assassination, and we came to a triumphant finale the other night. My bro’s called it a “steampunk mystery set in a fantasy world,” which is a good description, but on a more detailed level, the campaign was also heavily influenced by the Ace Attorney and Professor Layton games and exists in the universe of The Thirteenth Hour, a series of fantasy stories self-published by my brother that are inspired by 80s movies and cartoons. So the whole thing is one huge ball of fun nerdiness, and figuring that it might be cool to chronicle the campaign as we played, I captured each of our sessions on video. You can watch the whole thing on YouTube here in convenient playlist format (listening to it in the background like a podcast is also pretty nice, I gotta say), and there’s over 20 hours there, which is longer than some of the video games I’ve blogged about! 

This wasn’t the first time that my brother and I had played D&D, since I’d previously introduced the game to him via a small four hour mini-campaign last time I visited his house. (He’s written some great thoughts on that adventure, as well as the experience of missing out on D&D in his childhood but getting the chance to discover it as an adult here.) But this was certainly the first time we’d played something long that continued from week to week, and it was also the first time we’d used virtual tabletop software - in this case the very useful Roll 20 - to play online. Minus a few minor internet hiccups, it ran smoothly, and I think both of us had a great time. The experience also made me ruminate on three interesting facts about D&D that I think not enough people write about, and I’m going to jot off a few thoughts on them here. Without further ado...

1) It is perfectly possible, and sometimes even more fun, to play D&D with just one other person. 

Normally, Dungeons & Dragons conjures up images of a bunch of people - usually three or four at minimum - sitting at a table listening to instructions given to them by the Dungeon/Game Master, or DM. But the hardest part of D&D isn’t juggling rules or even fighting Challenge Rating 30 monsters - it’s getting a group of three or four people to meet up together on a consistent basis! This is why you can tell that anyone who still thinks of D&D as an activity for anti-social basement dwellers hasn’t actually played it, because in truth, the game is a demanding social commitment, especially for adults.

Thankfully, while it might be a less common way to play, you can totally enjoy D&D with just two people. Usually this means that someone more familiar with the rules has to be the DM while the other person acts as the player, which is what my brother and I did. Sometimes, the DM will also have to create a player character for themselves, and I did that in order to assist my bro with various battles and tricky scenes. This is more work for the DM, since they’ll have to juggle both their own character as well as the various non-playable characters (NPCs) encountered in the story, but if you’re up for it, it’s a rewarding exercise.

The best thing about playing D&D with just one DM and one player is how efficient it is. Three or four player D&D (to say nothing of five, six, or even more players) can get slowed down by arguments about how to progress or share loot, not to mention downtime in battles when a player who has a bazillion spells at his disposal deliberates on the one he wants to use that will both do the most damage and look the coolest. Don’t get me wrong, I actually love these sorts of interactions, but it’s also nice to strip all that fat away. 

When it’s just one player and the DM, the DM also has the chance to make that player feel pivotally important by basing the story around them. Usually, the “unit” of D&D is the adventuring party, but in a one person + one DM game, the player gets to shine as the main character. Thus, it’s a good idea to choose the sort of story that can emphasize the important actions of an individual, and in my opinion the best ones for this are heavy on role-playing and character interaction rather than dungeon crawling and monster slaying. For example, a rogue adventure in an urban environment might fit the bill...or maybe even a mystery. Which leads me to my second point...

2) If you’re a DM making a homebrew campaign, try utilizing a setting that your players are already familiar with.

When my brother initially agreed to play a long campaign with me, I first thought that we might attempt one of the many published Forgotten Realms adventures that have been released for 5th Edition D&D. But then I realized that while my brother is mildly familiar with the Forgotten Realms, thanks to old comics and fantasy art from the 80s and 90s, he’s much more familiar with the setting that he created for his own fantasy novel, The Thirteenth Hour. My bro originally wrote this book when he was a high school kid and finally published it a few years ago, and in the time since, he’s written some short spin-offs and outlined ideas for a sequel. In the mini-campaign we’d played in October, his character was actually a half-elf ranger named the Wayfarer who’ll play a pivotal role in book two, and I initially pitched the whole idea of D&D to him as “Hey, this can help you brainstorm your sequel concepts before you put them down to paper.” 

Once I began toying with the idea of making a homebrew campaign set in The Thirteenth Hour world, I started worrying that my brother’s universe was limited when compared to the “fantasy kitchen sink” setting of the Forgotten Realms. I mean, my bro’s book didn’t even have orcs! Or dwarves! What was I gonna do! But then I stopped being reliant on fantasy tropes and actually re-read The Thirteenth Hour, quickly finding that there was plenty I could work with.The universe that my brother created doesn’t have all of the races that Tolkien coined, but it’s still full of magic and wonder - a place where crafty old wizards inspired by The Last Starfighter’s Centauri run amok, strange technological anomalies like hover boards occasionally pop up and an otherworldly gatekeeper known as the Dreamweaver lets the spirits of the deceased visit their loved ones in dreams. And there’s also a large kingdom called Tartec ruled over by a vaguely Trump-esque king named Darian, who thinks he’s found the elixir of immortality when actually all he’s discovered is coffee. (If you think this sounds amusing, you can pick up a digital copy of my bro’s book on Amazon for less than a cup of Starbucks!)

Darian’s a funny character, and in one of the spin-off short stories that my brother wrote, an older and slightly wiser version of him reflects on how an assassin nearly took his head off with a dagger. This one sentence got me thinking who that assassin might be, and before I knew it I’d come up with the basic hook of a campaign. At the time, I was also reading Xanathar’s Guide to Everything, a D&D book that introduces 5th Edition’s Inquisitive subclass, which is basically a fantasy Sherlock Holmes. Suddenly, the ideas began bubbling in my head - the campaign would be a detective story set in Tartec with two leads trying to determine the identity of King Darian’s would-be assassins. Once I had this hook, I decided to draw further inspiration from the two video game series I think of when I hear the word “detective” - the Professor Layton games (which I like the style of but am rubbish at, since puzzles confound me) and the Ace Attorney series, which I’ve written about before. My brother would be the main character Lester LeFoe (patterned slightly after Phoenix Wright, the star of Ace Attorney), and I’d be the spunky female assistant Claudia Copperhoof (a little similar to Phoenix’s assistant Maya Fey). 

I hoped that situating these characters in my brother’s world would breed a quicker sense of familiarity than he’d get from playing a generic warrior in the Forgotten Realms, and I think it’s safe to say that the experiment succeeded. Thus, even though 5th Edition D&D products all use the Realms as their default setting, it’s worth remembering that you don’t have to follow this lead, and can always tailor your campaign to a world that your players are already familiar with. In my brother’s case, he’s a writer who made his own world, but for someone else this can easily be Middle-Earth or the Hyborian Age of Robert E. Howard’s Conan books. The D&D Player’s Handbook and Dungeon Master’s Guide actively encourage modifying published adventures to appeal to your players’ favorite settings, in fact, and not only will this potentially help to decrease the amount of lore you need to explain as a Dungeon Master, but it’ll also help keep the attention of everybody listening to you. Because who wouldn’t want to insert themselves into their favorite bit of genre fiction as a legendary figure? In many ways, the whole point of D&D is to give people a framework to do that!

3) If you’re DMing for someone who doesn’t have much time to play, remember that a linear campaign is not necessarily a bad thing, and simplify the more complicated rules - making stuff up whenever necessary!

On page six of the 5th Edition Dungeon Master’s Guide, there’s a whole section entitled “Know Your Players,” which is all about altering your game to appeal to the personalities at your table. If you’re DMing for people who like acting and appreciate in-depth stories, give them plenty of role-playing opportunities and narrative twists, for instance, and if you’re dealing with folks who’d rather just make their characters look cool, try having them fight lots of monsters who reward snazzy armor and weapons. 

There should really be a sub-section there entitled “How to run a game for players who are low on time.” Because that’s my brother in a nutshell. He’s a late 30s dude who works a demanding job and has two small children to take care of, one of whom is barely half a year old. (You can hear my nephew gurgling in the background in a few of our videos, and sometimes we’d even have to stop playing when the baby woke up from a snooze, which is a situation that I’m sure all new parents can relate to.) I know for a fact that my brother is also the type of guy whose eyes will glaze over when presented with a lot of complicated rules - as is probably the case for anyone who only has at most an hour or two, often in the late evening, to sit down to play a game when the rest of the family is in bed. 

In my opinion, the way to tailor your game to such a player is to make a brisk, well-paced story that they can actually see to a satisfying conclusion. This means that the campaign might be fairly linear - a word which seems to have bizarre negative connotations to some D&D players out there, who are always ranting about “railroading,” which is when a DM puts players down a predetermined path without any wiggle room. I think it’s important to note that “linear” does NOT necessarily equate to “railroading,” however, and that a sprawling campaign with a trillion different outcomes and choices to make at every interval isn’t necessarily the best approach for someone who can only play a little bit each week and might get bored if they feel like they aren’t making tangible progress. 

Let me put it this way - the campaign that I made for my brother was tightly designed. Instead of giving Lester and Claudia a vast landscape to explore, everything was confined to the city of Tartec, and I made an effort to nudge the characters towards certain objectives that they had to complete in order to solve the mystery, such infiltrating a manor house in the upper class section of town. But I also made sure to flesh out these few areas (quality over quantity) and allowed a certain degree of freedom in how the objectives could be cleared. For instance, I initially thought that Lester and Claudia might sneak into the manor house through the sewers. But as I was brainstorming strategies with my bro, the topic of disguises came up, because Claudia owned a disguise kit. And eventually we decided to infiltrate the party with Lester masquerading as a nutty old lady and Claudia as his keeper, which was a fun improvisation that I never would’ve anticipated - but still a viable way to complete the main objective that didn’t negatively impact the story’s pacing. 

On the topic of keeping the pace of the story brisk for a player low on time, I feel like it’s also important to minimize the number crunching and reduce D&D’s more complicated rules whenever possible. In practice, this meant that I took care of as much behind-the-scenes stats management as possible so my bro wouldn’t have to, though I did always try to explain to him what was going on (and what all of those funky dice rolls meant) so he’d have some understanding of the game’s mechanics. Also, whenever we were in a situation where I wasn’t sure of a rule, instead of wasting time looking at the Player’s Handbook, nine times out of ten I’d just make something up on the fly. For example, our adventure had a friendly NPC orangutan in it (specifically chosen because I know my brother likes backflipping primates) and she was supposed to be a super strong, unpredictable force of nature in the final battle. I’d lost the stats that I’d used for her when she first appeared, and instead of looking for them, I decided to just roll a d20 for her damage, figuring that the end result would be close enough. In that same vein, there were a few instances where I made mistakes, since I’m still a relatively new DM. Once I totally miscalculated a character’s special attack, leading to a funny NPC death (which I’d expected but not exactly in that way) and on multiple occasions I flat out forgot to apply modifiers to attack rolls. But instead of going back to redo everything I’d either just laugh it off or forge ahead, hoping that my bro didn’t notice, which he never did. 

Ultimately, my philosophy for DMing is to not sweat the small stuff TOO much if it probably doesn’t matter in the long run, especially if you’re running a game for just one person whose free hours are precious. I believe this sort of approach might be sacrilegious to some of the more rules-oriented DMs out there, like the ones who spend hundreds of words arguing over damage variables on the D&D Subreddit. But I’m not one of those folks, and I’d prefer to follow the advice of Sly Flourish, a DM who has a great website where he advocates a “lazy” style of Dungeon Mastering which de-emphasizes nitpicking over rules in favor of just having fun. 

At the end of the day, having fun is what D&D is all about. It’s a game of make believe that can really bring out your inner storytelling-loving child, and in an era where very few adults are encouraged to even consider the concept of “make believe,” it can be a truly wonderful breath of fresh air. And if you don’t believe me...I encourage you to watch The Case of the Almost Assassination and try not to crack up at some of the situations that Lester LeFoe and Claudia Copperhoof found themselves in. :)

The pics above are either art that I assembled for our adventure or screenshots that I took while we were playing! The little figurines I designed via HeroForge.

[gildedtyrant]

labyrinth aesthetics → ( 02 / 03 )

jareth, the goblin king

[timebinder]

how are you and your muse alike?

interview the writer ~ accepting!

6. how are you and your muse alike?

Hmm we’re alike in several ways!! We both have terrible vision and wear glasses (although Dewey is much more diligent in actually wearing his glasses than me; I’m supposed to wear mine all the time, but sometimes I just... don’t). We both love books, cats, and hot chocolate, and we’re both introverts!

[pussreboots]

Before Emily and her mom can enjoy the eclipse, Emily is distracted by a strange gift from an unknown aunt.