May 2
faithful hound
[OC: Nikola Graves, Vaesen RPG oneshot]
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Netherlands
seen from India
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Angola
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Serbia
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Türkiye
faithful hound
[OC: Nikola Graves, Vaesen RPG oneshot]
Vaesen is a game about investigating the living folklore in Northern Europe. It’s a horror game, but also a mystery game with a…conservationist’s bent? Not only do trolls and faeries and such exist, but they are a necessary part of the topography (physical and emotional, really), and the increasing encroachment of humans into the wild places during the industrial era causes concerns for all creatures, mundane and fantastic. Puzzling out a new borderland for coexistence is often the theme of the game.
I feel like there are two other places where there exist similar tensions between the mythical landscape and the mundane one. This is a sourcebook for one of them: Mythic Britain & Ireland (2022). And it’s written by Graeme Davis, who was instrumental in early Warhammer fantasy and writer of one of my favorite Fighting Fantasy books, Midnight Rogue. In his introduction, he writes how he had always wanted to pen a book like this that married British folklore and gaming; his reverence for his subject matter shines through.
Britain, littered with neolithic site and haunted by fae folk, is such a good fit for this treatment. The first 40 pages is a general sourcebook, listing real world places and pairing them with their most interesting folkloric elements, always with an eye toward the tension between the conqueror (the English) and the (sort of) conquered (the Scots, Welsh and Irish). Elegant and thought-provoking, I could read another 200 pages of this. Davis then presents us with the Society, which is dedicated to investigating supernatural manifestations in the UK. Following this is a long section of new monsters (Black dogs! The Nuckelavee! Knockers! Pooka!).
The book wraps up with three scenarios. The first is a delicious bit of folk horror that sees the obvious awakening of an unnatural force (a powerful hag) that becomes more dangerous because the people who could stop it initially muck about trying to find reasonable explanations for what’s going on. The second is a reverse, where a local vicar causes problems by trying to purge the mine of its knockers. The final scenario brings the action to the extremely mundane city of London and an artist’s colony with an extraordinary leader.
It’s a fantastic expansion for the game and ripe with possibility.
Now do Malaysia.
It was the fifth day of praying it was a terrible disease that had taken over Agnes’ life, as she crouched over the bowl and heaved. She had managed to convince her husband she was simply sick with the flu, or a cold, or what have you- and she held her spit until after he left in the morning (or cleaned it up before the smell or sound could wake him up, when it was still early).
It wasn’t a normal illness, of course. Part of her knew this from the first day. Still, when all she had was stubborn defiance, what could she do but lie- even to herself?
She was on sick leave from the Society, though the concept of ‘leave’ had largely fallen out of use as the numbers dwindled- they couldn’t afford to get rid of someone, even someone who was too unwell to be on site more than once a week. Agnes knew several such people who, in some way or another, had become cornerstones- simply because there was nobody else to offer more support than them.
Nobody there suspected anything, of course. And her husband, bless his soul, was the most clueless man she’d ever met. She wondered absently who would realize first- her husband, or one of her friends at the castle. She never stayed away so long- even when she was sick. It was only a matter of time until someone figured out what was going on. She wouldn’t be able to hide it forever. At some point, even if her husband believed that she had caught something- her belly would get too large to hide under blouses and skirts.
The tears welled up in her eyes as she caught her breath, having spit up nothing but stomach acid for the second time that morning. She held the chamber pot with a deathly grip under her callused hands as she started to shake. Her breathing failed to slow as she took deeper and heavier breaths, the blood rushing to her cheeks- away from her hands- until she picked up the chamber pot and flung it across the room in an attempt to get it as far away from her as possible.
The sick splattered across the walls and floors as the pot clanged against the ground. If she didn’t clean it up right now, it would stain within minutes. The snot and tears and throw-up ran down her face and wet her clothes.
It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be pregnant. Couldn’t be. Everything was going well. She was happily married. Her husband was wonderful. What he couldn’t offer her in intellectual, or at least interesting, debate, she found in abundance at Castle Gyllencreutz. And what physical intimacy she no longer wanted from him, well. She had Algot for that. Everything had started to fit into place over the last few years, and she had been happy.
This put all of that in jeopardy.
Agnes wanted to scream. To yell. To punch something, someone, for doing this to her- but the spit-up on the walls festered. She turned and grabbed a bucket and a rag.
The trap was so elaborate it didn’t even have the decency to allow her her fury. She had to hide her carelessness.
How would her husband react when he found out? He’d be delighted, no doubt. Start writing down names. Jonas if it was a boy. Lena if it was a girl. She scrubbed harder, trying to quiet the bubbling thoughts in her head.
Kerstin. Jan. Annelis.
The soap foamed terribly on the rag. Her knuckles were bleeding. She put one in her mouth, sucking at the blood, tasting the soap and probable residual acid, as she switched to her left hand. It was over. Her life was over.
What about Algot? How would he feel? …if it was his, would he tell anyone? Would he even know?
She stopped scrubbing.
Agnes would be able to tell. She would know. Algot, even if he didn’t know for sure… would he tell anyone? Her husband? God, what would he do?
It was his fault. None of this would have happened if… if Algot wasn’t around, or if her husband…
It wasn’t fair. She felt her face flushing once again as she swirled the line around in her mind. It wasn’t fair. Her husband would keep going to his job. Algot would stay butler at Castle Gyllencreutz. And she would be at home, taking care of a baby. Watching the world pass her by. Letting people die to Vaesen. People that could have survived if she’d been there. And for what? A little version of her husband?
Nothing would change for them. Nothing would change for anyone but her. And everything would change for her. She’d have to give up everything. And if he found out the child was Algot’s, if it was… what would he do with her?
It was infuriating. She would bear their children. They would live the rest of their lives. They would win. And she would have nothing.
She paused. Her face, which had been steadily scrunching up without her realizing it, relaxed a bit. What if… they didn’t have to know?
Madeleine Lindelöf.
She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t asked, or brought it up. But when she had gone to Studsvik for a job last winter, there had been a lot of unchaperoned women staying at the hotel Lindelöf. Several of them with child. She’d had her suspicions. If it was true… If Madeleine did what Agnes thought she did…
Well. If she didn’t, that would be fine too. She could tell the people of Studsvik it was a miscarriage.
As for her husband… he wouldn’t question it. She was going to the seaside for her health, or for a long-term job from the Society. He might not even care. And the Society would just have to manage without her for a while.
She started scrubbing again, a renewed vigor in her movements. She could fix this. She could recover. She could have the life she wanted again. It would just be a quick blip, in the course of things.
She started to do the math in her head. She could have her stuff packed by tonight. Would she wait until her husband came back before she left? Yes, yes. If she rushed now, it would only be suspicious.
The Society? She would send them a letter. A letter was good enough. She’d be back in a year. She’d be back in a year.
Algot… she shook her head. She couldn’t bear to see him. To talk to him. He would get away with everything. No one would even bat an eye at him if their relations came out.
No, she’d see him again when she came back. Maybe by then, the anger will have faded. Things could go back to normal.
For now… she’d have to make it through.
One year. One year and everything would be fixed.
Everyone say hi Elpis (left) and Ambra (right)
Elpis belongs to my sick and twisted friend @grillcheeser <3
My character for a Vaesen game with my friends :D Heidi, an old socialite. I can’t wait to play for the first time 😼🫶 and initial sketch below
Monster Idea
I think it would be cool to face a creature (maybe even a category of creatures) that you can only see and properly interact with while under the effects of a poison.
Taking inspiration from the Spiderwick Chronicles and Vaesen, the supernatural doesn't fit well within the mortal mind... Powerful mages can see dragons, but they're hardly even human anymore. The rest of us have to brew a potion from yew berries (the Red Eye of Second Sight) and hope it doesn't kill us before whatever we're hunting. I think it should cause two harm and the "dizzy" condition, though as you grow accustomed to the brew it might reduce to one harm and the "nausea" condition. So don't make the players use it too much, GM.
You can also modernize it! I'm sure the government agency of supernatural affairs has a synthetic potion you can take, with its own drawbacks and benefits.
Check out Webfest-award winning podcast Spirits and Monsters of Old Seattle, a comedy/horror Vaesen actual-play podcast! Follow a group of paranormal investigators as they solve mysteries and get up to shenanigans in 1880s Seattle!
www.spiritsandmonsters.com
And find us on Patreon!
Dimension 20 seasons that used D&D5e and the other systems that would have served them better.
I'm mostly just making this to vent because, while I do enjoy D20, I am a WotC/5e hater and think that the platform that Dropout has with D20 could be better used to uplift smaller designers/publishers rather than just homebrewing/redesigning the dragon game published by the cartoonishly evil, multi-billion dollar corporation every other season.
Be warned that the only two seasons/series here I have actually watched are Fantasy High and Dungeons & Drag Queens because I simply cannot be bothered to watch that many hours of a game i don't even like. Most of this is gonna be based off of trailers and summaries and vibes.