In Which The Warlock Contemplates the Worst...

As I've mentioned in my effusive praise for Play Dirty, I take great pride in being a "Wickian" GM.    My players appreciate a bit of sadism on my part, as I do my best to continually challenge their intellects, their characters' morality, and their own ability to cope with trying circumstances.  And, I've got to say, there's a ton of enjoyment in making my players rack their brains on a situation that really pushes their comfort zone as players.

Mary Ellen, perhaps?
This cosplayer did a fantastic job!

A few weeks ago, my Friday night Deadlands group was on the receiving end of such a 'rude awakening', as they've found themselves in the crossfire between rival Chinese-immigrant gangs in The Flood.  Taking up the the mantle of Big Ears Tam's champion in an underground martial arts tournament, ChaoticFred's "scrapper" mowed her way through the competition--literally!  As in, with a bionic buzz-saw arm!  But, as Mary Ellen Hardigan ripped her way through her final opponent, her traveling companions were aghast--that kung-fu fighter was the very leader of the 37th Chamber, with whom the posse wrangled a peace treaty several sessions earlier!

While the posse's new doctor companion was able to save the martial artist's life, he neglected to realize exactly what Big Ears Tam would do to someone who attempted to take out his prize-fighter...and that's even worse!  Needless to say, things didn't exactly end well for that fighter!

A great resource for more
"Dread Possibilities!

What really gets my attention, though, is when gamebooks facilitate this sort of GMing, providing possibilities to really challenge players, pushing even the most experienced, jaded gamer into action.  In 3.5e D&D's heyday, the Ravenloft books (by White Wolf-subsidiary Sword and Sorcery Publishing) did a spectaculary job of this.  In their setting material, the authors included several sidebars noted as the "Dread Possibility," each of which detailed the worst possible result for whatever plot element was being discussed. 

The "Dread Possibilities" ranged from noted monster hunters going mad from lycanthropy, to patrons being allied with shadowy cults, to a noted wizard falling in love with a noted (and thoroughly evil) noblewoman.  In all cases, though, these ideas push players to their utmost and, used in moderation, make for stories that no player will ever forget.

So, long story short, I 'appropriated' the idea.  As I've begun making my way through the final stretch of Cold Steel Wardens, the majority of my time has been focused on my setting--an amalgam of Iron Age cities that I'm tentatively calling Greensburg.  And, sure enough, I've included my own sidebars:  "The Lights Go Out..."

Here's a sample section, from my information on Greensburg University Medical System, the area's premier medical provider...

The Lights Go Out…--Greensburg University Medical

So, the rumors are true.  An underground union has emerged at Greensburg University Medical, and a massive walkout is in the works.  The union is being led by an angry young janitor named Mark Holp, who has worked at Miatanka Hospital for 6 years.  If the walkout and strike go as planned, GUM will be crippled, as nearly 1/3 to ½ of their workforce simply leaves.

What no one knows—not even Mark Holp himself—is that the would-be union leader is a metahuman, with a latent genetic anomaly allowing him to control light.  Holp has been present at several “unexplained incidents” that were a product of his untrained, uncontrolled mutant ability.  Triggered by intense emotions, these incidents have grown in frequency over the past few months, as Holp’s frustrations with GUM have reached a boiling point.

As such, the Heroes could face not one but two meltdowns—the utter disassembly of Greensburg’s premier health network, but also the emergence of a powerful metahuman with a grudge to pick against his employers.  And, the longer it takes to get the fledgling union to the table with the GUM executives, the more lives are lost as Holp attempts to gain control of his out of control powers.

In Which The Warlock Accepts a Journeyman Challenge...

Last entry, my good friend over at The Journeyman GM (also known as Will the ManMan, my compadre from Witt, who's been throwing down the bones with me for almost 4 years now), issued me a challenge.  After reading some ongoing rumors regarding Monte Cook's return to Wizards of the Coast, I put down my official prediction for the new edition of D&D.  Will challenged me to put down a few predictions for what I expect to see in said upcoming edition.  So, without further adieu...here goes!

One of the more popular changes for the role-playing games industry has come in the resurgence of the "boxed set" as a concept.  Fantasy Flight Games experienced great success with this in Warhammer Fantasy, as did Cubicle 7's Doctor Who:  Adventures in Time and Space, carrying over their tendency to include "fiddly-bits" from their massively successful board games.  WotC has tipped their hand in this regard, with most of their 2011 releases being produced in some form of boxed set, usually complete with an element that couldn't be packaged separately:  Madness at Gardmore Abbey, for instance, comes with the Deck of Many Things--a product that may not sell well individually, but when coupled with a mini-campaign-length adventure, makes for a positive price point.  I expect that 5e/Anniversary Edition will consist primarily of boxed rules, with "advanced" classes coming out via additional boxed sets.

"Who knows what the future for D&D holds?!"

Further, I'm finding that D&D--and rpgs in general--are starting to trend away from the tactical, rules-heavy concepts that have been in dominance since 3e D&D.  It's because of this, I believe, that WotC decided to discontinue their D&D minis line, as well as HeroScape--they simply weren't profitable, based on the numbers of miniatures being sold, when compared to the investment necessary to produce the minis.  Coupled with a general trend away from minis-heavy games--look again to Warhammer Fantasy--I expext that 5e/Anniversary Edition will provide only rudimentary rules for miniatures use, but include later conversion rules for a D&D-themed "Chainmail-esque" minis game....which will fail, repeating the cycle of minis-based D&D games all the way back to 2e.

Coupled with the shift away from rules-heavy, minis-necessary gameplay, I believe that streamlined concepts will be on the horizon.  As part of a modular-based, box-expansion style game, the base game itself must be kept simple enough to attract new players, while expansion boxes provide options for more experienced, "hooked" players.  One example of this, I believe, will manifest in the 'skills' system, which will seem like a bare-bones system at release, but then have substantial expansion in subsequent expansions.  However, I do see this skill system being more closely tied to abilities--numerous articles have posited the actual necessity of having skills, when the focus on ability scores or raw stats is so high.  Believe it or not, I think that D&D could take a lesson or two from ICONS, in terms of skill development--they greatly resemble 2e D&D's "proficiency" system in importance, and provide reference back to the all-important 6 scores, rather than cluttering a character sheet with more numbers and values.

A few other quick predictions:

• No more powers.  I see a great return to class abilities--particularly ones that can be defined/explained in less than a sentence, and won't require an 8+ page character sheet.
• No feats--at least not in the sense that we understand them now.  They'll be too much bookkeeping for a simple, dungeon-crawling game.  I see them creeping back in around Year 2.
• Themes will be back, in a big way.  I see themes providing archetypal support beyond that found in the typical race/class combination, and the rules for them provide great modularity.  Plus, they were implemented towards the end of 4e's run, and the later themes have been much less rooted in 4e's design philosophy...
• No more dragonborn.  For that matter, no tieflings, either.  I see a philosophical return to the classic quartet of human-elf-dwarf-halfling, with other races coming through expansion materials.
• Additional settings with additional rules.  While I could only wish to see a resurrection of Planescape--which might not be out of the question, if Monte Cook is back running the show--I anticipate that we'll see Forgotten Realms, Eberron, Greyhawk and even Ravenloft (especially since the 4e version got cancelled).  Unfortunately, I don't see any new settings coming out any time soon.
• A split convention prescence.  I mentioned above that I anticipate WotC putting out a concurrent minis game to accompany D&D, which I see providing a two-pronged attack for major gaming conventions.  The key, though, is to make the minis game appealing to the more "tactically minded gamer" while maintaining involvement on the role-playing side.  Unfortunately, as I mentioned as well, I don't see this going well.

All told, I really do think that a new edition will have quite a bit of merit, but I'll have to see how it hashes out before I invest in another round of D&D books.  Time will tell, I suppose!

In Which The Warlock Contemplates Something Odd...

A few days ago, while trolling around RPG.net, I came across a pretty standard thread in their d20/D&D forums.  Quite simply, the thread posted the question "What's the best setting for D&D?"

Immediately, I started running down my favorites in my mind, about to post my opinions.  I contemplating picking Planescape, then Ravenloft, then Dark Sun.

But as I deliberated between my options, weighing what I liked and didn't like about each, something strange occurred to me--something that I never really considered throughout all of my years of gaming.

You see, friends...I don't think I actually like Dungeons and Dragons.

I can hear you gasping from here.  Please, take a deep breath.  You're probably asking, "But, Warlock, you've been playing D&D for years!  You constantly regale us with epic exploits, thoughts on your new campaigns, and the like!  How can you possibly not like D&D?"

It was about as shocking to me, as well.  I've been playing some variation of D&D for over 15 years now, in any number of campaigns and one-shots.  But (bear with me here!), I don't think I was actually enjoying D&D.

Not your "typical"
D&D adventurer...

My favorite thing about Planescape isn't the D&D elements to it.  Rather, it was the pseudo-Victorian age philosophy, used to justify the archaic D&D alignment system.  I love the idea of "good" nihilists in The Doomguard, and the "survival of the fittests" ethos of The Fated.  I loved the idea that the "standard fantasy" archetypes were utterly flipped on their head. 

My favorite thing about Ravenloft isn't the fact that it's D&D.  Rather, it was the vulnerability of the heroes, as they made their way in a world ruled by Hammer movie monsters.  I loved the investigative nature of things, the rarity and superstition surrounding magic, and the swashbuckling-action-meets-creeping-horror feel.  Again, the "standard fantasy" was thrown overboard.

All of the things that I enjoyed about D&D....were the very things that made them not D&D. These settings were set apart because of their individuality, and TSR/WotC even made significant efforts to keep them separated. Dungeon Masters were encouraged to keep the settings and rules separate, due to their massive differences, while they simultaneously put out game material like Spelljammer, which meant to link them all...

I cut my teeth on Dragonlance, back when I was in high school, but by the time I hit college, I'd all but dropped the series.  There were no ethical questions to be explored, no tension-filled investigations to be had, and no inversions to keep me interested.  Elves, dwarves and humans were good, kender were irritating, and dragon-men were bad.  Everything was so...cut and dried.

Great game...but not for me.

To be honest, I have absolutely no interest in Cubicle 7's The One Ring rpg, despite a beautiful-looking book, and a creative game mechanic.  I just have no interest in doing the typical fantasy setting any longer.  And D&D?  Well, that's what it tries desperately to emulate...and I just don't care for it any more.

While I'd love to revisit Ravenloft sometime, I can tell you right now, I don't think I'd ever use any form of D&D mechanic to run it.  Rather, I'd probably use All For One--Regime Diabolique, by Triple Ace Games.  If I wanted to play some Dark Sun, I'd probably just use Savage Worlds.  For Planescape?  Well...I haven't quite figured that one out yet...

But still, there's a bit of an empty void in me right now, realizing that in all actuality, I may never have enjoyed the fundamental game that started the hobby that I love, cherish, and hope to work (more) in.  It's a strange feeling....

In Which The Warlock Makes a Literally Allusion...

With Kat's summer Ravenloft game about to pick up, I figured that now would be a good time to debut my newest alter-ego: Ishmael Mallouk ben Hassib, a star-crossed mariner...

Name: Ishmael Mellouk ben Hassib

Age: 29

Race: Half-Orc

Location: Docks District, Marrakesh

Profession: Mariner.

Parents: Mahjoub (father) and Nahjet (mother)

Siblings: None

Faith: Will pray to Talos, Lord of Storms, on occasion while on a
voyage. Not particularly religious.

Fav. Food: Ferakh Maamer—spring chicken stuffed with couscous, raisins, orange-flower water, and almonds, simmered in a honey-garlic sauce. Served with white table wine.

Pastimes: Dart-throwing, throwing dice, sailing his one-man catamaran.

Party Role: High-damage skirmish fighter; explorer and mariner.

Strengths: Movement-based abilities, high damage attacks, large amount of skills, ability to fight at range and in melee with equal ability.

Weaknesses: Middling defense and HP, lack of social skills (cha-based), stigma from being half-orc.

Background:

Ishmael Mellouk ben Hassib’s childhood was not one of great happiness. Ishmael’s father, Mahjoub, was a minor merchant who often led expeditions into the southern deserts to take the native tribesmen as slaves. Ishmael’s mother, Nahjet, was one such slave, which Mahjoub found attractive and took as a concubine. Ishmael’s birth was an entire accident, as few believed that a Marrakeshi man could even have a child with a Samburu tribeswoman.

Ishmael was raised primarily by his mother, who rarely was able to leave the ben Hassib homestead. Nahjet was kept essentially as a slave, used by Mahjoub for sexual purposes and to keep the house. Ishmael had little in the way of dealings with his father, and was kept “out of sight and out of mind.”

When Ishmael was 14, Nahjet died of malaria. Mahjoub, not wanting anything to do with his pseudo-son, cast Ishmael out of the house. By this point, Ishmael was spending most of his time on the Marrakesh docks anyway, and he brushed off his father’s banishment. Illiterate and without education, Ishmael volunteered for work where he could get it, eventually finding himself on The Fleur de Tempete, a Narbonne trade ship owned by the Marquis de Saint-Michele. Mahjoub, however, went bankrupt not two years later, then committed suicide out of shame. With no one left to object, Ishmael took back his full name.

On board the ship, Ishmael made the acquaintance of a seasoned Narbonne mariner—Yves d’Alban—who began to teach him basic necessities for ship-faring: knot-tying, weather-sense, fishing, and whaling. Yves was something of the father figure that Ishmael never had, so the young Ishmael was eager to learn all he could. To this day, Ishmael says that he learned to read and do basic mathematics from Yves’ shipping manifests.

The Marquis de Saint-Michele, however, was not interested in Marrakeshi spices alone. Rather, he was equally interested in enslaving the Samburu tribes and putting them to work. For many years, Ishmael kept his half-Samburu heritage a secret, ferrying slaves and spice through Marrakesh, bound for plantations and other ports.
Eventually, he was called on his odd, exotic appearance and he exposed his past, though most of his sailors—scum, themselves—only used the fact for good-natured ribbing and curses.

Aboard the Fleur de Tempete, Ishmael saw many sights that would blast the sanity from any less-hardened man. In addition to the cruelty perpetrated upon the Samburu, the trade routes used by the Marquis’ ships took them in ways that were plagued by horrors of the deep. On just such an expedition, Ishmael found himself thrown overboard, as the Fleur de Tempete was ripped downward by a hideous horror of the deep. Ishmael watched the ship go down, with 45 crewmen and 200 slaves aboard. Clinging to a piece of broken mast, Ishmael drifted along for hours before passing out.

By some strange twist of fate, Ishmael found himself washed ashore approximately fifty miles south of Marrakesh. Taking courtesy from some Vistani nomads, Ishmael managed to find his way back to port, only to find that the Fleur de Tempete had made dock there! Beyond flabbergasted, as he had literally watched the ship be pulled under by a tentacle horror, Ishmael sought to investigate. However, continual circumstances—along with both Narbonne guards and Marrakeshi assassins—have kept him from looking into it further.

Ishmael desperately wants to find out the truth behind the Fleur de Tempete, as it seems like there is more than meets the eye going on. He hopes to find Yves, but wonders if he could trust the old man even if he did manage to find him. Ishmael also feels a deep conflict, in how the Narbonne have treated the Samburu people, to say nothing of the Marrakeshi natives. While he has taken their money and worked for them for years, the continued cruelty and effeminate pomp of the Narbonne has worn on him. After staring death in the face on the high seas, morality has begun to set in.

Origins 2009--Friday, Saturday, and Sunday Photo Gallery!

Ebbs peruses Monsterpocalypse minis.

Doctor Who Cosplay.

Playing Ravenloft on the big screen with the d20Pros.

Karl peruses his options in Ravenloft.

GM Dan gives Will a lot to think about.

Giant Settlers of Catan.

Lionel tells Jules exactly where she can get some wood.

Happy Happy Settlers players!

Lionel tries Jules' "Pho Ba" at North Market.

Jules, cosplaying as Black Canary at Origins 2009.

Willy the 2 and Don bring the pain on Saturday's Power Play.

A Legendary Encounter--Kim the Elf Warrior meets the WittWeggers!

Black Cat Cosplay

The whole group at the BattleTech Simulator

Karl preps his mech-mashing strategy.

Maranda, Ebbs, and Lionel at Trailer Park Wars.

Karl and the GM at Trailer Park Wars.

Jules enjoys her trailer park's amenities.

Jules meets Chainmail Speedo Guy.

Poison Ivy Cosplay at Origins 2009.

Sunday Power Play at the WEGS Booth.

Origins 2009 (Semi-)Live Blog--Friday, Saturday and Sunday!

Wow. The remainder of our 2009 trip to the Big O went by in a whirl, and I'm only now starting to get caught up on all of my correspondence. But, that won't stop me from chronicling all the chaos for you, oh few-and-faithful readers!

Friday
After Thursday's late night, I managed to eke out at least a little sleep on Friday morning, before heading out for a demo session of Chrononauts, a game by Looney Labs. While I had seen Looney Labs (and their HUGE following) at Origins in previous years, I hadn't actually played any of their games. As such, Chrononauts was totally new to me.

I was fairly pleased. The game centered around a static, card-based timeline of historical events, which your time-keeper adjusts, screws-up, and repairs, based on the goals listed in his ID and his mission. Unfortunately, I was so engaged in the game, that I forgot to whip out my camera. No big loss, there, though...almost immediately after, I managed to meet up with Lionel and Ebbs (freshly back from playing a Ghostbusters minis game) and roam around the dealer room before...

Ravenloft. Man, oh, man--this one was a trip. Heading off into the lands of the mists with Karl and Will, we swiftly found out that our game was not, in fact, in the Madison room--rather, we were out in the lobby, on the big screens with the guys from d20Pro.

I had seen d20Pro's product last year at Origins--their dungeon utility software was a novelty, but I really didn't have much interest in it, as I have a gaming group able to play live. However, this was a rare opportunity to play in a setting I love, and I wasn't about to turn it down.

Nor was I disappointed. GM Dan, of the d20Pros, ran us through "The Ghosts of Mistmoor"--an old 2e Ravenloft adventure from Dragon magazine, which he had not only updated to 4e, but also adapted for use on the group's networking software. I took up the mantle of Amelia--a pistol-packing follower of the eponymous Rudolph Van Richten.

This game was intense. Between the natural horror of Ravenloft, and the inter-party conflict (ironically, over attacking/damaging party members), this game was well worth the 8 hour committment. Did I say 8 hour? I meant 10 and a half! After beginning just before 2, we ended at 12:15 on Saturday. After a climactic encounter with the ghosts of the Mistmoor family, and the treacherous Erebus, we triumphed over the curse of the mansion and headed out.

Unfortunately, though, due to a lack of players, we ended up having to cancel the Friday Midnight Madness WEGS session. Disappointing, entirely...I was ready for a new Nordling to take on the 99 Orks! No luck there, though, and we headed back to the Marriott for a few hours of sleep before the weekend started.

Saturday

Saturday made for a unique day as Jules finally got up the courage to cosplay at Origins for the first time, in her classic Black Canary outfit. Surprisingly, there were a lot more cosplayers this year in previous years--mainly as anime charaacters, superheroes and various ren-faire warriors. The costumes were really quite good, and incredibly varied--you'll be able to see some of the better ones in my upcoming photo gallery!

However, the gaming started, with Lionel, Jules, and myself heading to a game of Settlers of Catan, played on the giant Mayfair games board. I must say, I felt kind of bad for the poor guy who ended up with us three around the board. He probably didn't expect such a brutal game! Our first session ended with a triumph for yours truly, while our poor new companion got roaded into the center of the island. The second game was somewhat more fair, as he and I tied by the end of the game.

After a rousing game of getting wood for sheep, the three of us headed off to North Market for a fantastic meal. I know I've spoken highly of North Market before, but I wasn't in the mood for curry this time (gasp!). This time, I was after deli-style, and I wasn't disappointed. Barry's NY Deli, provided me with a fantastic pastrami on rye, with homemade mustard, and a bowl of fantastic motza ball soup. Couldn't beat it with a stick!

That led directly for us to hit the next WEGS Power Hour, where Willy the 2's infamous crystal-blue dice awaited. Surprisingly, we made it out alive, from this lethal demo, though my previous warrior--Ghormash the Goblin Warrior--was out of Phew points. His enchanted daggers wouldn't be much use to him, without the ability to take a single hit!

From our trip to WEGS, we skipped over to dinner at the Convention Center Food Court before trying out something new to Origins: the BattleTech mech-battles simulator. On Tuesday, we got a glimpse of the event-coordinators setting up, and knew we had to jump in on this. We set a reservation for 8 of us, ready to rumble on Saturday evening.

And the results? Well, unfortunately for yours truly, PwnedAndy's Uziel mech didn't fare so well, falling multiple times beneath the missiles of Lioner1 and others. Ebbs, however, took home the gold, pulling in 14 kills while only dying 5 times. Fantastic results for him!

That was something of the beginning of some more misfortune for me, as my D&D game following--The Dragon Helm of Hador--was cancelled 15 minutes before the event began. Grr, indeed. As such, I met up with Lionel and Ebbs again, and threw down some Chrononauts--Lionel ended up picking up the card decks--in their room, before heading off for...

Trailer Park Wars.. As a group, we were pretty familiar with Gut Bustin' Games' "Redneck Life", but this one was even better. Set to build up your own trailer park empire, you build up amenities in your own park, while inflicting horrible tenents and natural disasters on other players' parks. I think we actually astounded the GM with our viciousness, as we hit the end-game with fervor, keeping one after another from winning with horrible glee.

After a late, late dinner on Saturday, we headed back to the hotel where we awaited the last day of our Origins 2009 Adventure.

Sunday

Waking up a little later than hoped, we had to rush to get checked out, then to head off to our first game, an Intro to CthulhuTech. Unfortunately for us, this wasn't...well, a game. Rather, it was a paid-seminar on the intro to the game. Needless to say, I was a little disappointed--I had already bought a used copy of the game on a trip to Bookery and was wanting to know more about how to run encounters in the game, or to experience a play session. Not the case, so much.

However, our later game--CutThroat Caverns proved to put this one to rest. Another Smirk and Dagger game, our adventurers tried to one-up one another for kill after kill through tough monster encounters. After a bit of luck, and some good card-playing, my dwarf (Orn--with umlauts, even!) ended out on top.

After one more go-round in the dealer hall and our last Power Play session, it was time to head on home for another year.

Up next? Pictures from Friday through Sunday, and then my final Origins 2009 wrap-up. Stay tuned!

In Which The Warlock Preps for Epic Throwdowns...

Before we start, a brief aside: a few posts ago, I mentioned Nick and his unfortunate motorcycle accident. Well, never fear! Nick is slowly getting back in the swing of things. You can really tell he's getting back to normal, when he's nagging me about not updating on time. Go figure....

At any rate, the big O is just around the corner, and we Witt-Weggers are getting more jazzed by the day. Right now, planning for Origins has been my stress relief (yeah, believe that one!), in the midst of filing paperwork, scheduling inspections, and prepping our mortgage in the hopes of closing on our new house.

However, there are two events that have had me on the edge of my seat for the last few weeks, and just won't let up.

Firstly, there's "The Ghost of Mistmoor"--the massive 8 hour long Ravenloft game, starting at 1:30 and ending...well, probably when all of the PCs fall to some Darklord. As I mentioned when Kat started her game, I could probably count the number of times I've actually played Ravenloft on one hand. This is mainly because I'm usually the one running it, breaking out the Tarokka deck and the big, black GM screen, with all sorts of twisted ideas to inflict on my players. To have the tables turned...oooh, can't beat that with a +3 Mace of Disruption.

The second one, though, is swiftly becoming an Origins tradition--El Willy's epic Midnight Madness WEGS Scenario. Last year's Madness set us against the uber-mummy KlattaBarraBoo, with our only hope (which was quickly lost and forgotten!) being the Holy Hand Grenade. That game ended in a huge stalemate at 3:30 in the morning, with one of my many Nordling incarnations itching for another chance to Skorp his way through the dungeon. This time around...well, I'm not quite sure what El Willy's planning. Over on the TableTop Gamers forum, he's already started a poll...but results are tight, and even my own inclination was for him to just "roll the bones" and let the dice fall where they may.

Odds and gods, baby! Either game, it's all going to come down to a roll of the dice!

In Which The Warlock Changes His Persona...Again...

With the demise of "Shadows of the Cold War", Kat has taken up the mantle of GM and is prepping us for our first session of Ravenloft this evening, using an Island of Terror of her own design.

I, for one, am ecstatic. In all my years of GMing--now almost to 15!--no one has ever run Ravenloft for me. I've loved the setting for years, as it was the second D&D setting I'd ever read, but no one would run it. I've run it myself countless times, but few seem to be up to task to put together Gothic Horror with Medieval Fantasy.

That is, until now. So, without further adieu...my Ravenloft character: Nadia Ir'Ralya, burgeoning sorceress!

Name: Nadia Ir’Ralya
Age: 28
Race: Human
Location: Port-a-Lucine, Dementlieu
Parents: Unknown (both). Raised by Varrek Ir’Ralya
Siblings: Unknown
Friends: Camille DelaCroix (deceased), Eriol
Faith: “Gods? Are you kidding me?”
Fav. Food: Blanquette des veau over potatoes, with deep red wine.
Pastimes: Juggling, practical jokes, drinking. When alone, drawing and writing.
Party Role: Stealth and reconnaissance, social skills, raw damage potential.
Strengths: Stealth, high damage capability, high defenses, versatile skill uses.
Weaknesses: Low AC. Low physicality (negative Str).

Background:

Varrek Ir’Ralya was a “second story man” working for the Bleakers—an up-and-coming thieves’ guild in Port-a-Lucine—when he came upon something that he, to this day, has never been able to explain.
Varrek was commissioned by his Guildmaster—the enigmatic Melancholy—to break into a house in the High End. Port-a-Lucine’s High End was the most wealthy and elite district, and this house was no exception. Varrek slipped his way in and began cleaning out the lower floors. When he got to the second floor, though, Varrek had no words to describe the strangeness found there. On the floor, a married couple—still in their bedclothes—lay scorched and bleeding. Scant 5 feet away, though, a young girl of 3 years old—presumably their daughter? –lay sleeping on the floor.
Varrek was immediately faced with a feeling he rarely felt: guilt. Taking the sleeping girl with him, he looted the remainder of the house and made his way back to the Guildhouse. While the Guild Undermaster wasn’t happy with Varrek’s choice, they kept the girl around as something of a mascot at first, but later as a trainee. Nadia, as such, grew up in the absolute roughest of circumstances…and reveled in it. She proved adept at stealth and lockpicking, as well as swindling and baiting hapless men in taverns. Nadia always had an ‘exotic’ loot about her, which attracted many…and often left their purses lighter.
While Nadia enjoyed her work and her training, she had few friends. Among those few were an elf, Eriol, and another orphaned human girl, Camille. Eriol was fun, but had the typical arrogance of the Sithican elves, which made him annoying for long periods of time. Camille, though, was something different. She was wild, like Nadia, and the pair would spar in the training hall with abandon.
However, Nadia was continually haunted by strange dreams—dreams of whirling colors and oozing, amniotic seas, in which…things…swam. In the darkest of these dreams, a hideous figure would float through the sea towards her: a tatterdemalion, but one of royal bearing. A proverbial King in Rags and Tatters. She would often wake up screaming from these dreams, with no one left to comfort her.
The dreams soon became worse, over time. In fact, Nadia began to manifest sorcerer powers as the dreams compounded…which led to tragedy. Nadia, at Camille’s request, tried to keep use of the powers to a minimum—keeping them only for emergencies.
Such an emergency came as the pair, alone with Eriol, attempted to lift a supposed “religious artifact” from the vaults of Councilor Dominic D’honaire, at the request of Guildmaster Melancholy. When the trio was caught by the guards, they attempted to fight their way out, only to be vastly outnumbered. Camille, swiftly surrouned, begged Nadia to use her sorcery. Nadia summoned her mental reserves, blasting out with waves of psychic fire, consuming the guards…and Camille. Nadia shrieked, but the carpets of the vault had begun to catch fire, and Eriol was forced to pull her, still screaming, out of the manor house.
Since that day, Nadia has kept to herself. Guildmaster Melancholy has all but forced her from the ranks of the Bleakers, putting her out on the street as a liability. As such, Nadia has stowed away on the La Perle Volante, believing that a new land might give her a new start. She worries daily about her burgeoning powers and how she possibly learn to control them. She has no friends, only underworld contacts, and feels like this world has abandoned her. If there was only a way to control this raw power, any price may be worth it.

In Which The Warlock Scares the Crap out of the Witt-Kids...

I'd been itching to run a Halloween one-shot for a while, and when some of the players in Ebbs' Tuesday night game showed some interest in Ravenloft, I couldn't pass up the chance.

The thing is, though, we threw down some game on Saturday with a few twists. First off, we used 4e, rather than 3.5e, as Ravenloft was designed for. I was rather surprised to see that the system didn't really matter for us--the horror remained, even in a system that's a lot more player-friendly in that respect.

We also experimented with some new WotC rules--particularly the Artificer and the Barbarian, which are both available on their site as playtest builds. Nick played a warforged barbarian, while Dan took up the mantle of the artificer. The consensus on both was really positive: the artificer kept the party on its feet with temporary hit points, while using artifice and constructs to set up flanks and attacking enemies. The barbarian seemed a touch strong, as it was built around charging, but felt properly Conan-esque, dealing out massive damage with a greataxe.

Our scenario? A classic horror staple--the haunted asylum. So, as a treat to you, I present the true story of Birchcroft Sanitarium for the Mentally Deranged:

The real Birchcroft Sanitarium for the Mentally Deranged was found on the Prime Material, near the city of Port-a-Lucine. Its original director, Marcus Birchcroft IV, was a nobleman, who saw much of his family fall to the perils of mental illness. Hoping to help them, Birchcroft used his family’s considerable wealth to aid them as they fought off what modern psychologists would call Alzheimer’s disease, schizophrenia, and other severe psychotic episodes.

Marcus was lucky, in many ways, as he was spared the horrors of the afflictions that so ravaged the rest of his family. His wealth was able to attract some of the greatest psychoanalytic minds from across the world, including two such doctors: Dr. Gregor Illhousen—a 53 year old doctor of Psychiatric Medicine from Nedragaard, and Dr. Roderick Wellsby, a 40 year old doctor of Neurological Surgery.

Serving as Chief Financial Officer and Chairman of the Board, Marcus’s decision-making was incredibly sound, as he let the doctors create their own administration, with his own board overseeing their actions. The doctoral board was elected by the entire medicinal staff, and often chose Dr. Illhousen as their leader, as he was progressive leader, eager to try new “therapeutic” treatments, coupled with low-doses of psychotropics and sedatives. Under his administration, the Sanitarium propered, as he got along particularly well with Marcus.

Wellsby, however, chafed at this sorely. He viewed himself as the equal of Illhousen, as his treatments were just as effective as Illhousens. However, as Wellsby often received the ‘terminal’ cases, upon whom he was able to experiment. Wellsby’s most infamous experiments dealt with a trephination along the top of the brain stem, and the direct injection of heavily psychotropic drugs into the medulla oblongata. The ‘patients’ of Wellsby’s experimentation typically died, screaming.

This continued until Marcus Birchcroft died peaceably, on his 62nd birthday. Speaking with Illhousen and the senior hospital staff, he left the hospital to Illhousen, whom he viewed as a great friend. While placid on the surface, Wellsby raged. In his new position as Chief Physician, he slowly began to subvert the staff into believing that Illhousen was not a fit leader, and that another should replace him. Illhousen and Wellsby argued constantly over methods, as more and more patients received radically invasive surgical treatments.

In the end, it was Wellsby’s surgeries that proved the Sanitarium’s undoing. Hiring some thugs, he captured Illhousen on his way home, and brought him back to the sanitarium…as a patient. Keeping him awake and screaming the whole while, Wellsby induced treatment after treatment, surgery after surgery…until, at last, Illhousen broke the restraints and ran gibbering throughout the asylum. As he ran, releasing the inmates as he went, he knocked over an oil lamp into a fireplace, catching the entire facility on fire.

Everyone inside died that night, some screaming and bound, in straightjackets and manacles.
Birchcroft Sanitarium is situated on an Island of Terror, floating throughout the mists. It occasionally appears to lure others in, and re-create its mass of terror.