Thursday, September 22, 2016

Libri Vidicos: Winter Break Scenes

Libri Vidicos remains among my favorite campaigns. Clocking in at six full years, it offered a magical school set in our long-running fantasy world. The characters began as incoming first years and eventually graduated as senior heroes ready to take their place in the world. I used the school year as a structure for the arcs. Arrival, first semester, winter break, second semester, departure, summer break. I'd throw in field trips and school events. A few times I wrote up extensive emails to give flavor to their breaks or to drop in certain plot points. I crafted some nice stuff and it provided as a good hook for players between sessions. But while I dug it, I might have been better served doing a collaborative montage at the table. 

Below is the Winter Break write-up from the Second Year. Valmont, Beletan, and some NPCs went to stay with their fellow student Cerise and her strange Shaddai Elf household. Lucy and Sergei went home to their own families, while Sokka stayed on campus. 

I'm torn about this kind of campaign material. I don't do it as much anymore. While there's some fun and lovely stuff here, it took a lot of solitary time and effort to put together. If I'd applied that energy to creating a cool session covering the same territory at the table, would it have been better? That's the eternal conundrum of the over-prepping GM. 

Everyone gathers their things together-- instructed to pack lightly, still many have larger bundles with them-- gifts perhaps or perhaps some of them plan to remain at home. It is unclear. Osric sets the wagons up and splits, organizing students together into apparent deliveries. The fifth years are first; beginning early in the morning and through the day, the number of students thins out. However instructors and house masters remain in copious number. You suspect that they're watching for any mischief that might occur during this time. Perhaps that's standard or perhaps this semester has put them on caution.

You hear the sounds of the second years of House Darsksoul heading out. They run past Saberhagen as he arrives in the First Year's Common Room. He looks around, doing a quick head count. Then he gestures to gather all of you close at hand.

“Now everyone should have their schedules for returning. If you miss a pick up you'll have to wait a day or two before we can come back again. That's also a demerit against you.” He checks out the window and then looks back to all of you. “I'd guess you have about an hour before you leave. Sokka, come see me when that's all done and we'll get things set up for you and the others who are staying. Madame Rosencradle will be seeing to the ladies remaining and we'll meet up with her.”

Dentina makes a face. She's had to do a detention with Rosencradle, an older woman who manages, as many people put it, “the bits and pieces.” She keeps pins, ties, bobbins, tape, lids, string and every other various sundry and notion for the school. Dentina spent a full week cleaning ancient scissors.

Saberhagen stops and tries to assume his most authoritative pose before addressing the group again. “Now, I want to warn you of something. You know that Libri Vidicos is bound by a number of powerful and complex elder enchantments. It helps to maintain some of the secrecy of the school. Those spells are...capricious...or rather they take some time to settle in correctly.”

“That means that you may have some strange encounters when you return. Even those who you chose as persons you could inform may not remember where you went-- or they may and then forget again. They and others may mishear what you say, or you may find yourself saying something different from what you'd intended. This is especially true for those of you going to a place that it not your home-- there's some location elements woven in there I expect. Now don't worry about that too much-- it gets better and by the time summer break rolls around it should be sorted out. I suggest you don't dwell on that too much and try to avoid talking about Libri Vidicos around anyone who isn't in the it were.” Saberhagen looks to make sure everyone take sin the implications.

“Now...” The Elvish master turns to Cerise, Sergei and Lucy. “This is especially true in families where there is strong magic. The spells are potent and subtle and work their efforts strongest where they might be detected. Don't be surprised by such incidents.”

“In any case, have a good break and make sure to gather anything you realize you'd forgotten this semester. But don't bring too much back or Osric will be irritated and Sternehof will have to spend hours going through your things.”

Sergei makes a point to stop Saberhagen before he leaves and ask if there's anything he can bring him back. The Elf pauses for a moment and seems about to ask, then stops.

“No...nothing that you can bring back.” He says glumly.

Hefting his knapsack over his shoulder Sergei pushes wide the main doors and walks down the step toward the main entry to await his ride home. Light snowflakes have begun to gently fall reminding him of home. His gaze traces the outline of the Vidicos wall and eventually to the main stair where he sees Julianna Vergaxis sitting awaiting the same carriage. He will walk his way over to her and gently set his bag down awaiting her eye contact. He will smile at her admiring her gently features and long hair. " You were great you know... the other day at the dueling finals. You are very good. I've seen Lucy duel many times she is deceptively adept. To score a hit you've done better than many others."

Vergeaxis looks carefully at Sergei.

“But it is not enough. A test must be passed and not failed. That is the rule of Math. One cannot hope to be Emperor if one fails such tests.” She looks on with more animation than she's shown before. Then she carefully returns to her former quiet demeanor.

“If you'll excuse me, I must to be with my housemates.”

Arrival at the Shaddai lands is a strange affair-- all of you expect an alien landscape, but it is the same rolling meadows you might find in Miremal, Atlantae or elsewhere. Osric kept a wary eye out as he dropped the four off. He looks carefully Valmont, then Leather, then Beletan before finally looking at Cerise.

“You're all sure you wants this place then...” He trails off. “I won't be coming back early for any of ye...” Before any of you can say anything there's a quick whip to the horses and he vanishes with the winds.

[I'm actually going to leave some of the description of NPCs and such here to Sharon should she wish to indulge.]

Once at the estate, Cerise herself is a little surprised by the seriousness of her arrival-- a certain degree of formality she hadn't expected, a laying out of the finest pieces on the table, extra servants brought in, the sounds of a joungleur from the Lesser Pegasi houses practicing out by the pond. Kieran, Cerise's apparently human brother, jostles through and informs Cerise that the family has gone full out for this season, especially once they heard she would would be bringing guests along.

Cerise's parents are tall, handsome Shaddai. Malakiim Antigrym especially stares each of Cerise's guests down-- with Valmont managing to hold his glance the longest. Cerise's mother, Epiphany of the Lilies, on the other hand immediately engages her daughter in conversation and only gives a passing glance to her guests. Both seem incredibly proud of her and make much of discussing her rivalry with Harbinger Whitened-Wave. They nod seriously at the injustice of the second test and encourage her to destroy her rival utterly in all ways and forms. There are various gifts and presents for Cerise, but most proudly her father hands her a box filled with assorted ribbons, buttons and silks seemingly taken from around the continent. He explains that he drew some from across the family line as a first coming of age gift for Cerise-- hence the diversity of pieces.

On the fourth day, Cerise's mother arrives and presents each of Cerise's guests with a new outfit of formal wear modeled on the Shaddai fashions. Valmont's is quite classic, Leather's is simple and straight-lined, and Beletan's is tasseled with hundreds of silk leaves running along the arms and back. They rustle when he walks.

Speaking to Cerise's father proved an experience. A master tradesman, his mind seemed to be occupied with negotiations through the Orb constantly. However a few days in, he saw his daughter and her companions speaking and deliberately cut off distant conversations. His manner was pleasant, towering over Valmont and Beletan, as did most people here. Even Leather had become sensitive to the height issue and found himself stooping a little. As he put it, "I knew they were tall...but all of them are tall." You can tell he's a little worried as to how his Orcish heritage would measure up.

“So I take it you're finding everything to your liking?” Malakiim glanced around at the group and took in their nods. The rustling of Beletan's jacket drew his attention and he looked a little warily at him before continuing on.

“I was hoping we might be able to travel out to Vendimos where they've carved the cliffs...” He broke off. An ornate glass bowl one of the servants had just placed on the buffet had drawn his attention.

“Um...what is that?” He asked now turning his full perceptions to the bowl. It contained a strange dish, like a melted cheese block covered in marmalade and balsamic vinegar.

“Geniose, milord,” answered the servant simply. By now all of them had moved over to stare at the bizarre item.

“ eat that?” Lord Antigrym said trying to puzzle the thing out.

“Likely not sir. This is a favorite dish of the Halscu Region...from the Wyvern lands.”


“As you may recall, Lady Glassong's former husband came from there. Your wife thought it would be an excellent and subtle insult to place it on the table.”

At this Lord Antigrym nodded. “Excellent. Well, then, that seems in order.”

That evening the four Darsksoul students watched carefully the mixed expression of dismay and disgust upon Lady Glassong's face as she surveyed the dishes. Epiphany of the Lilies made careful and quiet comments about obtaining dishes carefully suited to her guests' tastes.

Still later that evening Leather pronounced the dish disgusting and explained that it tasted exactly as it appeared, marmalade and all.

At Libri Vidocos the next day, things grew quiet. A number of the staff and scholars left via Osric's carriage, some heading out the front gates, while still others just simply weren't  anywhere to be found. Saberhagen ushered the various students into House Darsksoul, dividing them out among the floors. Several of the staff also came to settle in here. The first year chaperon turned out to be a very stiff and formal caretaker from House Malbrect. His sniffs and nose turnings up at everything belied his hawk-like gaze. Clearly he intended there be no accusations of impropriety. Thopugh Sokka looked for them, neither Rahella Lancar or her bodyguard were to be seen.

Those who stay can be broken into two broad classes: those who have nowhere good to go and those who really don't want to leave. The former includes a number of glum fellows, including Eagleton Vonard and Axel Riftmaw; however both spent most of their time away from the dormitory. The latter includes a couple handfuls of upper classmen who seem to be devoted to research and practicing. They're barely to be seen-- most of their time seems spent in the library or else working in the labs of the research buildings. There's an unlucky supervisor who has to watch them and you have the impression the headmaster comes down personally to give them each a warning about keeping with they do within reasonable limits. Clearly there have been abuses in the past...

It remained fairly quiet over the days, with most students trying to come up with clever games or puzzles, doodling in notebooks, and round after round of Struthos. The food was-- as had been forewarned-- less than stellar, but what it lacked in quality it made up for in abundance. Crick don-Crickens, the assistant head chef had clearly been tasked to clear out certain portions of the stores. So a meal might be made up over various sausages done in a number of different ways, with all the cabbage one could hope to eat set off to the side.

So it was strange on the night of Yearturn, when all of the students were called down to the Great Hall, to find the tables heavily laden with most excellent fare-- savory main dishes, lovely fruits, heavily glazed desserts. Most the the staff came through to eat at the buffet, but left quickly. Sokka noticed some of the older students who had chosen to stay over the break eyed the doors carefully and left when they'd finished their meal. But some stayed and eventually, filled with delicious food, everyone leaned back in deepest pleasure.

Then the Headmaster called to a few of the staff. They quickly pulled chairs and a few tables over close by one of the great walk-in fireplaces in the hall. Gravast Direlond spoke briefly with his politely vampiric wife and then came down off the stage and sat in a great backed chair positioned centrally by the fire. He called over  the remaining students and gestured for them to sit in the arrayed chairs. The dwarf spoke conversationally, asking each about his or her semester, inquiring by name about their classmates and so on. Smallish cups of a candied brandy heavily mixed with sweetmilk were brought to the students. The taste was delicious. It was then that Sokka noticed how the lights in the Hall had been slowly dimmed, the doors shut, and the rest of the staff gone away. The only light now came from the dwindling fire behind the Grandmaster, illuminating and outlining his great chair. It grew hushed in the room and Sokka felt incomparably small in mammoth space of the stone hall.

Then the grandmaster reached up and carefully took off his tall black hat and set it down on the floor beside him. Strangely his hair remained perfectly cofuuried, apparently cut to manage the hatband well. But it was the first time Sokka, or any of them, had seen him without a hat. A shiver ran through the group.

He spoke slowly now. "Ah, we are on the eve of Yearturn. Tomorrow is a day outside the calendar. A strange day...I mean each month governs itself with twenty-eight days, from new moon to full moon to back to new anon. Yet--the darkness holds for one extra day here at the end of the year-- think on that-- else the calendar should grow askew rather rapidly." He nodded sagely at this comment and paused to run his fingers through his raven-black long braided beard.

"So a strange day-- one where spirits come out and find full play, a carnival for the darkest of the fey, a time where rules are turned upside down...a time that requires caution lest something truly terrible be bargained with..." He paused to stare directly into Sokka's eyes (or so it seemed). The darkness around the students grew-- if it were possible-- even more dense. The Grandmaster continued, "Now when I was a lad we took this time very seriously, and this hour even more so. You see it grows close to midnight...and soon we will hear the peeling of the bell. Where I come from this was the time when our fathers and grandfathers and uncles would sit down and tell us stories."

"And now, I am going to tell you some stories..."

Which he then did...a slowly litany of tales, ghost stories, tales of revenge, horror tales dragged from the crypts, each one more terrible than the last, and-- as he carefully assured you they were all the absolute and literal truth-- with each one he found a new detail to fix upon and leaned closer and closer still. And then,


He reached the summit of his tale when the clock finally struck and then from the darkness emerged down Ms. Darkbough eyes flashing darkly with a thirst for blood (or so it seemed) and everyone let out great screams and there was running and fleeing as the staff threw open the doors letting in light and everyone ran, ran, ran for their dearest lives...

And found themselves rushing down the steps out the Great Hall and out into the courtyard, a courtyard transformed filled with pure unblemished snow perhaps a foot or two deep. Everyone stopped when they hit the cold and the crispness of it. There had been no snow when they'd entered. Now terror transformed to wonder as they stared upwards at the great cascades of lights that glowed and flickered among the stars. The snow itself reflected the lights, from red to blue to green. Sokka barely noticed when Saberhagen came forward and wrapped a cloak around him. He saw the rest of the staff standing by to distribute cloaks to the other children who likewise merely found themselves staring up at the dance of constellations, the light show of fantastic elements battling across the sky.

"Now, you'll be feeling tired," the Grandmaster said gently as he came up on Sokka's elbow. And it was true, but at the same time the beauty of the moment held him transfixed. "You should wrap yourself up and head back to bed..." Sokka nodded and followed the procession heading back to House Darsksoul. Each student found beside his or her bed a box of treats-- chocolates, cookies, and other triffles, as well as a larger present resting on the pillow. Sokka opened his to find two new pairs of fine shoes: one of lovely suede decorated with thread and the other more like boots and eminently practical for playing Wickets and Imps.

Sokka was overwhelmed, and like the others found himself turning to sleep. But he found none. Each time he closed his eyes monsters from the Grandmaster's stories popped up inside his mind nearly immediately. Sokka was not the first to make his way over to the lamp to turn the light up. He looked over at Riftmaw who had a grave look on his face, and the others as well were sitting up in their beds. None of them said anything, but sat there in silence the rest of the night.

At this point Sokka decided he would never sleep again.

Yearturn among the Shaddai was a less important event. However over the years the Aperkitas had conspired to make it more and more entertaining. As a result, though no Shaddai officially celebrated, it had become an unofficial gathering time and a three-day truce. During these days old enmities and hatreds could be put aside...mostly. It remained dangerous to court fate too much, for fear that a host might enact some careful plan to keep his guest beyond the three days and therefore achieve a time of reckoning.

So the young members of House Darsksoul found themselves at a gathering of Shaddai from across the lands, hosted by Lord Antigrym. Cerise had become used to this, her father carefully bartering deals to quell disputes and making arrangements that would be mutually beneficial to both well as the Chimera. Where the Dragons settled disputes with a finality and the Unicorn could be counted on to call up years of rules and precedents, the Chimera presented a more relaxed attitude which often drew those who wished to have their settlements kept with some secrecy.

But Cerise hadn't seen her family put on quite the show they had this year and felt mildly embarrassed for a moment-- a moment which passed quickly. In fact, the situation had played more into their hands. Through careful consultation of the volumes, they had managed to track down three Shaddai who might have been at Libri Vidicos close to the years that the Explorers Club would have been at its apex...the last years before it vanished.

The first was easiest to eliminate from consideration, Vain Talons Setwright, was a Manticore and hardly likely to be within the circles that the Antigryms traveled in. And one usually did not ask about associating with their kind. They were a blood-thirsty folk-- easy to take a slight, difficult to calm from a grievance, and filled with a strange view of humans. Their slavery and indenture policies, often carried out by the last of the Drow among them, made right-thinking Shaddai give them a clear berth. Still they were useful and could be considered masters of certain kinds of conventional warfare.

The second choice had required careful and delicate work on Cerise's part. Garsemetha was a Basilisk whose name she'd heard once before. Through her brother she'd managed to arrange an invitation to their house to this Basilisk. It required some convoluted lies trying to pass off who exactly had invited them, but her parents seemed more concerned about handling a particularly grumpy member of House Lamia whose youth apparently made him take most comments as subtle insults. Not that they weren't but generally one did not rise to such challenges.

Garsemetha turned out, however, to be a dead end. Loud and boisterous, she tried to make herself the center of attention for each event she attended-- discoursing on swords, swords, and more swords. The well trained Chimera staff eventually managed to prise her from the rest of her group, effectively isolating her from the others and giving Cerise and company a chance. However, when asked indirectly and then directly (after it seemed Garsemetha might not be that good at picking up subtle hints), she claimed to have never heard of Libri Vidicos or anything else related to it. They left just as the Basilisk began to suspect they were playing an elaborate joke on her. Cerise's intuition seemed to confirm Garsemetha's lack of knowledge which was as troubling as anything else.

It was as they discussed the final possible Shaddai that their first break appeared. They'd retired to a quiet drawing room to talk about possibilities. Cerise had been unable find out anything about Obrodorus Rising. The name was barely spoken when suddenly a figure seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was of medium height, just below seven foot, an adjunct of House Dragon, dressed modestly in his family's yellows and reds. Cerise cursed herself inwardly-- it was a long-standing rule to exert extra caution when speaking in a house where Dragon were staying. Inevitably, they would find out. There were elaborate ciphers and code words among her household in case of such a thing. But now they'd attracted the attention of this one.

"Excuse me" he said in the long drawl of his house. "Did you say Obrodorus Rising...I couldn't help but overhear you say that name..." Valmont looked at the door to the room. He was certain it had been shut and locked the moment before.

"Yes we did, we heard of him..." Cerise let that trail off not wanting to give away any more.

"Really?" This seemed to strike him as odd. "I would ask what context you heard it in, but I'm dubious about my chances of obtaining a verifiable answer."

He looked around at the group, seemingly taking in the diversity among them for the first time. "Yes, well then. I should exercise a little, in my case, or a lot, in your case, of caution when speaking of that one. Among certain circles his name to call anger and consternation. You see for a brief period, what...perhaps a blink ago, he was regarded as the greatest thief among the Shaddai. But a bold one-- rising from nowhere, pulling off daring burglaries, and then vanishing-- half a blink ago."

Beletan quickly ran that in his head. Cerise had said that a blink was what, five years...but wait, the Dragon counted them as ten years...which meant that this could fit.

"And what became of him?" Cerise asked.

"Ah, that's a real question. Some think he retired, some think a guard managed to kill him and then covered it up in the hopes of finding Rising's treasure. There was rumor that he'd been caught by the Unicorn who have a distinct sense of justice and many reasons to wish Rising more ill than most." He stopped there and looked around at them.

"Still others believe that it came out that Obrodorus Rising was in fact a member of House Dragon and when that news came out, the Cabal Who Sit Watching decided it was time to remove Rising before he could do serious damage to the family's name. That or use him as a pawn. In any case he hasn't been seen in what would be a long time for all of you." His gesture included Cerise in this, but she deliberately ignored it.

The Dragon excused himself and departed. No one spoke for a moment. Then Leather finally broke the silence, "Um, that guy made me feel like I was edible."

Lucy watched as her mother set the starter thread on the Silk Spider Loom. The first spider, marked a proud gold, ran down the line. When it reached the bottom of the frame, the signal was passed and dozens more crawled out from the wooden frame and began to spin and weave the sheet. They moved a little sluggishly, having been poisoned just enough so that their threads came out a rich green. Lucy's mother turned back to her again, "Your sister seems upset but I can't for the life of me say why...I was going to ask you about it but..." she trailed off. "Perhaps you should go play with your bolts...and pins...and whatnot..." she smiled at her daughter.

The enchantment was, as Saberhagen warned, somewhat odd in operation. When they'd first returned back Elenore had rushed to her mother's side and then dragged her off to tell her, half sobbing, about her semester at Libri Vidicos. However, since Lucy had not included her mother in the secret of her attended the school, apparently every time Elenore mentioned Lucy, her mother lost track of the story. Lucy decided that something must have upset Elenore deeply and that she'd devote more time to her sister next semester in an effort to make things better.

Her father chatted with her, reservedly at first but then with more animation as Lucy described her developments in the art of spell-casting. "Ah, well that's a relief. I thought you might not move beyond the Third Principatic Maxim..." He watched her cast a few spells and corrected her on some matters of form, pleased to be able to give some direction. He then explained that he'd hinted to people that Lucy had been sent to a boarding school-- perhaps one in Ierendi. Since the awful d'Aubaines had split from d'Ambreville, their names had become mud generally (though some respected their ability) which meant that few people would pry into Lucy's business. As an added bonus other members of her own extended family had apparently sent gifts to Lucy when they found out she would not be attending the great school of magic at Glaantri City.

The best perhaps was Yearturn itself, a day that always brought the family and everyone together. It would be this day that the wards would have to be renewed, the traps cleaned, the bindings reset and the threats clearly delineated on the grounds. Lucy waited as her father divided out the tasks and areas. She hoped she wouldn't be paired with Selezarnau as he constantly munched on herbals to control his skin condition. He spat when he spoke as well making for a fragrant and sticky spray in front of him. To her surprise her father walked over and handed a brass needle and a box.

"These are for you-- you'll need them to handle your section." This year she would have her own! 

Lucy opened the box to find a wand made of a dark black wood, twisted and polished to a sheen. The handle had been carefully carved to settle gently into her hand. The d'Aubaines, like all right-thinkng Aoniaens had lifelike duplicate homonculi so they could take measurements even if one of the family members was away.

"It is the heart wood from a Raventree, killed by lightning. Very rare. They were able to get only three from this one before the tree corpse escaped." Lucy shook the wand gently and tiny black feather blossomed in the air. He father continued, "Now I've had it reinforced in case you should drop it...or fall on it...or something of that sort."

He looked down at his daughter fairly proudly now. "Well you should get to your section. If you're good I'll let you sit in on the chaining of the ancestral transgressors later this evening..."

The exertions of Yearturn had finally gotten to Sergei. He managed to extricate himself from the last of the celebrants-- young women of favorable houses who were desperately vying for his attention. The depths of the winter meant that the holiday could not be spent in Ursus easily. He'd done that three times in his life, twice with his parents and once by himself. Once the Lock Snow fell, then everything quieted down and they would tell stories, do crafts and generally try to keep themselves from growing wroth with one another. Sergei had loved it-- sneaking outside, finding the old paths in the ruined portion of the keep, the careful management of food and resources to make sure that no one starved. Holidays in Math were both more open and more regimented. There was a schedule for everything and though it was all entertaining, it was wearing and restrictive at the same time.

On the other hand, holidays in Atlantae like this one, were never the same twice. This year they'd managed to keep their arrival back in the country a secret until the last minute. Still word eventually spread and so began the great series of visitations and invitations from nobility of Atlantae wishing to ingratiate themselves with the head of House Rosznar. Not that Gallina had formally called herself that for some time, having turned the reins over to others, but it was well known she had influence in many areas including-- at times-- the ear of the Emperor. And not that some of the people who arrived weren't true friends-- people Sergei had known for years, some whom he'd gone to school with. But there were enough who had a desperation to them to make it an effort to remain entertaining and civil.

Beyond that there had been the question of his friends. They'd mostly gone off to a school together, though a few had taken apprenticeships. Sergei could tell them nothing of where he'd been and evaded the questions. This didn't seem a surprise to them and that struck him. They'd expected no answers from him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd always been kind of an outsider here. Not that he didn't like them or they, he. But instead he'd always kept himself a little apart from things. Libri Vidicos had been the first time, he thought, that he'd been willing to connect with people beyond his family.

He's made his way to his father's second study, a place he'd always enjoyed for hiding away. As he shut the door, he noticed the seat closest to the fire was occupied. He moved to see who else had escaped from the party. An older gentleman, perhaps his father's age, hair gone half grey and an Atlantaen by his skin tone. He had seen the man before but it took him a few minutes to place him, as he had never actually spoken to him.

"Lord Cromnor..." Sergei said somewhat hesitantly. The man had been smoking his pipe and staring deeply into the fire. He didn't start, but instead turned and looked at Sergei appraisingly and then smiled.

"Ah, Gallina's son, Sergei. Please come and sit and join me." He gestured to the chair next to him. "I've stolen a pot of hot chocolate from the sideboard. Perhaps you'll want a cup as well."

Manners had taught him not to refuse such a gift. He took the cup in his hands and waited, as the older man seemed to have something he wanted to say.

"Ah, you truly have taken up your father's grace and looks. I can see by your hands you have been practicing more heavily with your sword as well. But not, I think, with the Archers? That's well-- I dare say you'll do better learning outside of Atlantae, and bringing those ideas back to us. You'll do well."

"Thank you, Lord Cromnor..."

"No, me Delcat." He stopped. "You know, my own son would have been about your age."

Sergei thought for a moment trying to place this-- what had mother told him about Cromnor. Somehow he was related to the late Basho...tied into that complex geneology of the former and present Imperial line. Wait, that was it-- he'd married Basho's sister, Lady Cynowae, but he'd never heard her spoken of in full-- just mentioned in passing.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know him."

Delcat looked up-- startled a little realizing how he'd drifted off. "No, no-- I'm sorry. The Yearturn always gets me thinking. And a bad thing. It is best to finish one's business and get things cleared out before the new year begins. I'm grateful for your mother's invitation, but I'm less festive than one might wish."

The door opened and Sergei saw a man look in. Sergei leapt to his feet. "Master Harkvrag..."

The grand Ursan hunter of undead strode into the room. "Lord Sergei...come here and let me have a look at you." Sergei walked forward eagerly. Where a women would simply hold you by the shoulders and beam down a smile upon you, Master Harkvrag meant what he said. He took Sergei by the shoulders and turned him around checking the line of his clothing, his hands, his boots.

"You look good-- well cared for and perhaps a little more carefully attired? You have been in the company of ladies, no? But I can see by your hands that you have been practicing..." He laughed a little.

"That's what I said..." came Delcat's voice from the chair. Harkvrag looked past Sergei and saw the other man. "Lord Cromnor...Delcat..." he moved forward, keeping Sergei with him.

"It is good to see you, Despatir. To have confirmation that you still live is always a blessing." Cromnor sat himself up straighter.

Harkvrag smiled as he looked down upon him, then he turned to Sergei. "Sergei, I will be here for a few days, and I have a few books in my bags for you. We can talk in the morning, but for now I would wish to have words with Lord Cromnor..." He glanced at the door. Sergei took the hint and bowed carefully to both of them. He then turned and headed for the door, at the same time carefully wrapping the shadows around him-- he concentrated with all his might not to call down heavenly cherubs to cast the spell and managed to affect it subtlely. Outside he stopped try to hear their conversation.

Harkvrag had seated himself in the chair Sergei had just vacated. "Delcat...I am sorry, but there is still no word of her..." He broke off.

Cromnor paused before speaking. "I had not expected any. You and the others have been too good to keep this in your attentions for so long. I am an old man now and must let this go..."

"No older than I," Harkvrag countered. "But you stay in your house--now come and ride with me, or with Sheridan, or even Julian...though only the last case if you want to drink more wine than you can handle."

The two men laughed and suddenly Sergei realized someone was standing behind him. His mother was watching him patiently. She shook her head.

"Listening at keyholes is an unbecoming trait-- especially if anyone coming along here can see you at it. I raised you better than that." She swatted him gently on the cheek. "Next time, use a sound spell, or invisibility or something if you really wish to eavesdrop. Now, you need to do one more pass through the guests before I let you escape for the evening..."

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Legacy: Life Among the Ruins: Play, Talk, Thoughts

For the last several weeks I’ve run sessions of Legacy: Life Among the Ruins as part of The Gauntlet Hangouts. Legacy’s a post-apocalyptic PbtA game, but with a vastly different focus than Apocalypse World. First, your world’s explicitly fantastic. Perhaps genetically-engineered super fauna grew intelligent and took over before dying out. Or dimensional gate technology went wild changing the landscape and crashing civilization. You need that weirdness, akin to Numenera’s, in your apocalypse. The Fall leaves behind strange and wondrous relics and locations you uncover in play. You could craft a more grounded game, but that would make it harder for the game to do its job.

Second, you’re intended to operate on a different level than AW. Each player chooses both a Family Playbook and a Character Playbook. You do the same kind of character creation process for the former: setting stats, picking moves, developing backstory, making connections. Your choice of family shapes your “Big Picture” goals for your character. In play you choose what your family does, meaning you may have to roll moves for them. Your character’s influential by default (though you could run them as independent or even opposed). Families have surpluses & needs, make treaties, and have basic moves. Overall that’s one of Legacy’s best innovations. Third, the game’s intended to be generational. You work through the threats and problems for an era, roll for your family’s changes in the Turning of the Ages, and then make up new PCs for the next age. With only three sessions, one for character creation and two for play, we didn’t get to this. You might play for many sessions before ever deciding to skip forward. It isn’t a threat hanging over the game, but rather an escape valve allowing you to refresh the setting.

The Gauntlet crew graciously had me on for this week’s episode and we talked about what we thought of the Legacy. It’s a good discussion and one worth listening to. I’ve also posted videos of our two sessions of actual play (Session One and Session Two). Unfortunately technical errors meant I didn’t record the creation session. That’s too bad because everyone dug it and their creativity amazed me. There’s a real pleasure in building the family, the locale, and then the individual characters. You’re able to drill down through the details.

In any case, you can hear my overall impressions in the podcast. The short version: Legacy offers an ambitious take on PbtA and on post-apocalyptic gaming. It has some great ideas and elements worth looking at. I’m glad I bought and ran it. If the concept interests you at all, consider picking it up. I should mention that Legacy: Life Among the Ruins and a host of other PbtA games are on sale right now at Drivethru.

But I’m not sure I figured out or ran the game that Legacy has on offer. You can hear that in the podcast- it’s the first topic we cover. I’ll eventually come back and do a full formal review. I found Legacy inspiring and interesting, but lacking in guidance about to actually structure play. I switched things up between the two sessions I recorded, trying to move to a more meta-level. I’m not sure that entirely worked. Much as with Crowsmantle, I think starting off on the wrong foot hurt me. A completely different approach might have worked. I’m not sure and I may come back to that later. In next week’s Gauntlet episode we talk about Legacy again and offer some final thoughts. I’ll post that when the show drops.

In the meantime, below you’ll find our summary of the characters and world we built in that first session. We also drew a map, always a good thing. This illustrates the kinds of ideas you can generate with Legacy.

The Shepherds (Gilded Company) Company of Merchants
Dispersed. Travel around on the Lobster horses. These are genetically modified beasts. They vary in size and color, from riding horse size to massive monstrosities. They’re also genetically engineered to be delicious. The Shepherds have scattered due to recent incidents. Hence their needs: Justice & Leadership.

PC: Santo Shepherd: An envoy who, like many of his family, dresses in wild and striking fashion. He’s in his thirties, but looks younger. He has a magnificent Tayshin riding beast and a pragmatic servant/ stablemaster who cares for it.

Enclave of Bygone Lore
Vat-Grown duplicates. They’re identical in appearance. When they come of age, each obtains an encounter suit as a rite of passage. They decorate these uniquely to express their identity. The family lives in starship wreckage. Others live in the settlement with them as well. The Enclave possess some wonders, but the primary of these is a massive turret weapon affixed to the starship ruins. It is recharged via mystical sacrifice. They’re less driven than other families, with more leisure time. Some consider them lazy.

PC: The One Who Strides into the Wastes (…foolishly): A hunter who has an elaborate encounter suit marking his identity. He’s a powerful stalker who knows how to handle monsters with his absurdly large sniper rifle. He has a small floating drone named Ioun who gives him insight and advice.

The Twice-Born (Tyrant Kings)
A barbaric group: leather and sharp points. They control their area tightly, with a group of slaves as servants. When they reach a certain age, the family throws children into a massive pit called The Womb. It’s honeycombed with tunnels and has all manner of dangerous creatures. Throwing new beasts down in is a common activity. When a child manages to climb up the side of the pit, family members stand nearby watching to see if they make it. If they do then there’s a great celebration.

The Twice-Born need medicine, culture, contacts. They believe in a rebirth of the entire world. Their current leader senses a need for her family to develop connections with the others. This is a dangerous idea and likely will put her at odds with other members of her tribe. Her name is Xorelle, and she is the leader by virtue of being the oldest female in the family. They’re suspicious and afraid of the mysterious black obelisks.

PC: Xorelle the Midwife: The Elder and leader of her family.  The eldest surviving woman among the family, once a dangerous warrior, age has slowed her somewhat. She has the skills to handle political change and hopes to shift her family more towards the larger homeland. She has a soft spot for beautiful things. Xorelle owns a stash of ancient porno mags which she regards as the height of beauty and culture.

The Errant Justice (Lawgivers of the Wasteland)
They operate a dispersed family of Gunslingers. These act as a network of justice. Each gunslinger has their own territory staked out, usually set up by one of the black monoliths. They make good time around the region as everyone gets out of their way. They’re well respected, but low in number. They need recruits.

Each gunslinger as a unique gun, their Iron. They also are supposed to have an apprentice who carries their own gun, the Pewter. The family protects the wronged, those with grievances. In particular they act to bring justice to the misers and hoarders. In pursuit of that justice, they’ll do many things but won’t stoop to extortion.

PC: Jack Cartwright: A Survivor. He’s among the small number of remaining lawmen. He’s seen many of his friends die. He has two Irons and two Pewters in his possession, having picked them up from fallen friends and apprentices. He searches for another recruit he can mentor. Cartwright’s a solid guide in the region.

  • Grand sweeping wastes surrounding distant pockets of humanity. There’s a Wild West theme.
  • The majority of loose native lifeforms have a strangely aquatic echo to their form: scales, crustaceans. Some, like the riding beasts, show genetic tailoring. Others seem to have resulted from accidents.
  • Moon has lights on it. There’s some debate as to whether those lights have changed over time.
  • Vestigial technology wanders in from the wastes: advertising robots, autonomous construction machines, strange simulacra. Some are dangerous, other benign.
  • There’s a large crater out in the wastes, not far away from the PC homeland. It seems to be the crashed wreckage of another space ship. Heavily irradiated.
  • Scattered across the land are huge, towering black obelisks. Some are massive, some smaller. They have markings, perhaps astrological points. These glow on certain days. Some of these monoliths are irradiated. Other serve as gathering points.

How did this come to be? Upper echelons and elite of society believed a disaster loomed in the future. They departed in spaceships, with at least some of them going to the moon. While no massive cataclysm struck the world, the infrastructure collapsed creating an ecological disaster as well as the detonation of massive machines. The systems regulating the land, weather, and agriculture broke down or went haywire. This created the wastes.
  • The wastes are great, barren areas, barely mapped. They’re more known in legend, though occasional adventures travel out to explore them. People and things arrive in the PCs homeland from time to time. There may be other homelands within desperate travelling distance.
  • Even within the homeland are strange pockets of radiation. Most are known and marked.
  • Things fall from the sky constantly. Usually once a week something lands in the PCs’ homeland. They’re called Skyfalls. Junk, satellites, machines, ancient supply drops. Locals approach these drops cautiously. While they may hold bounties, just as often they’re extremely dangerous. The most recent drop revealed an escape pod filled with sixty corpses.
  • One of the persistent dangers facing the homeland are the Petz. Genetically engineered domesticated hyper-animals. Cats, dogs, snakes, hamsters, and the like. They’re dangerous, smart, and look steroid enhanced. Some of them are huge.
  • The Hollow Mountain is a massive artificial feature of the PC homeland. A hundred feet tall and miles long, it may have once been a huge shopping and entertainment complex. Much of that has fallen apart, forming massive caverns survivors can travel through. Rogue automatons live in the upper reaches of the Mountain. From time to time, solar energy recharges some of them and they manage self-repairs. They then descend and become a significant threat to anyone in the mountain.
  • There are structures which seem to form a sundial, towering spikes made of a material similar to the obelisks. While it still functions, it has pieces fallen and missing.
  • The Fountain: A huge artificial lake. There’s a whirlpool vortex in the center of it. No one knows where it leads. Anyone who has been sucked in never returns.

The Nursery: Twice-Born homeland. It lies on the shore of the Fountain. It gives them access to and control of a fresh water source. They celebrate periodically when a survivor child emerges from the Womb pit. They keep slaves: it is taboo for a slave to look a member of the family in the eyes. That’s a challenge and an affront.
Scavageton: Like an oil field town, the populace go out into the Hollow Mountain to excavate and scavenge tech. It’s extremely risky and the survivors party hard, particularly after a successful run. They don’t travel out during the day- that’s the time when the dangerous mechanicals within the mountain are most active.
New Oasin: “The Big City.” The largest and most populous settlement in the region (150 people!). They live under the shelter of an enormous dome. New Oasins believe themselves to be the “first city” and carry a sense of cultural superiority. The monogamous and those who don’t contribute to procreation are treated with disdain.
Enclave of Enlightenment: Home settlement of the Enclave, a crashed spaceship. Others live there besides Enclave family members. Those of the Enclave avoid addressing people by name directly. Instead they use alternate names and titles to reference them. This habit rubs off on non-Enclave persons living there. There’s also a general ethos in the settlement that sex is icky and unpleasant. People do not discuss such things.
Banarjee: A cliff-dwelling settlement built within a chasm. There’s a great junk and wreckage pile at the bottom. The people of Banarjee produce a large amount of food, primarily mushroom or fungus-based. They avoid eating animal flesh and prohibit others from doing so within their walls. When Banarjee youths reach adulthood, groups of them will make a long trek out into the waste as a rite of passage. 

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Secret Covenants: NPCs from the Attic

Want to break your rpg-loving heart? Find materials in your attic from beloved campaigns ended before their time. Back in the late ‘90’s Sherri ran one that I loved. Rich, deep, full of interesting NPCs. We had some solid players but more than a few selfish and disruptive ones. Though we got far, the table situation forced her to cut the game short. No ending. While cleaning we found one of the NPC overview sheets she’d put together.

A ten-page overview. And going through I recalled nearly all of them vividly. The campaign offered everything I love: diverse characters, development vs. adventuring, and an overarching mystery. Below I present the first half of those NPC write-ups. It may be a niche offering, but perhaps you’ll find inspiration for new characters and NPCs.

This Rolemaster “Kitchen-Sink” game used all of the rules and supplements: base books, all RMCs, Alchemy Companion, Spell Users Companion, etc. It took place in the fantasy setting we’d played with over many campaigns. Divided into three isolated areas, Sherri chose to work with the third continent. That had lands awash with a long-running struggle between magic and divinity. It borrowed hugely from Glorantha. Long eras of dominance and destruction by various sorcerous powers had left most suspicious of wizardry. Mages had to hide their powers or go underground. The faithful usually regarded magic and magicians as inhuman or trucking with infernal powers. And nearly everyone followed one of the many pantheons.

In this setting I’d established that mages existed, hidden into Covenants ala Ars Magica. I say ala but I really mean I lifted the whole thing from there: terminology, structure, orders. I changed many of the names, awkwardly borrowing from a Polish dictionary. I added and subtracted, making it more fantastical. But it remained sketchy: a background detail from Rolemaster campaign set in Pavis. Sherri took that and made something unique and vibrant.

Here’s the short version. We began as young magi in House Rosbudwicz. On several expeditions to the outside world, we began to discover secrets. Following up on those led us to a hidden facility. There we discovered bags, dozens and dozens of them, human-sized. These bags kept their occupants alive and ageless. Though they resisted scrying we chose to risk opening one which seemed to hold a man we might communicate with. The freed prisoner revealed he’d been kidnapped on the way to negotiate a peace between two warring factions over a hundred years ago.

We returned to our covenant and told the head master, who seemed to have some inkling about this. We suspected he set us on this path. Since we couldn’t bring these people back to our house, we left and established that lost facility as a new holding. It would remain hidden from all of Rosbudwicz, save for a handful of trusted elders. Eventually we’d draw off additional help and personnel exchanging items, knowledge, and wealth we’d uncovered to repay that.

Over time we released more and more prisoners; many we had to subdue and convince. All shared the same story: they’d been vital in some way. They led, they negotiated, they supplied, they loved, they ruled. Over the centuries some group had stolen them away. The bags didn’t merely sustain and conceal them, they contained a ward against destiny itself. In effect it cut them off from the loom of history and changed the course of events. Slowly we gathered our forces and investigated this group. But we never stopped them.

Below is the first half of our NPC list covering the members of Rosbudwicz. I had to scan and OCR this. Eventually I’ll post the other half, the actual members of our secret covenant, Sniadosc.

Akeel: Arcane Master. Considered prime role model for young Arcanists; has accrued high skills in all realm skills and a dizzying array of spells. Plays covenant politics like no one else.

Amaril: Arcane Master. Specialist in "esoteric" magics, including crystal magics. Rival to Pettifog. One of the powerful female mages. Her friendship with Trinit made for a rocky relationship with Gwydion, but she seemed to appreciate Draeus' earnestness. Provided the group with a map of their true destination just before they were sent to Crystal Island instead of Horse Island due to one of those recurring "misunderstandings" that have been plaguing the covenant of late. Claims to have divined true destination after her conversations with John of the Gray made her suspect that they had been redirected to someplace dangerous. Finn's gift to her of crystal drake scales has prompted her to take a sabbatical to create an artifact-level item.

Anna the Blind: A master channeler of great power and a lay healer by profession, Anna is odd among covenant mages in that she never learned much about her realm skills. Instead, she concentrated on the healing arts. She is a consummate herbalist, physician and surgeon. Her magics allow her to carry on her work despite being blinded when she was a young adult. The origin of her blindness is the source of many rumors—the only substantial fact known is that Prummel gets very angry whenever it is spoken of. Anna's talents make her valuable to the covenant, but she is often treated like any of the mundane servants, useful but irrelevant to the important work going on here. She is currently working with Nadile Leeza, attempting to speed the recovery of Mil Rowan.

Arcalathe: A Grand Vizier and master Alchemist, Arcalathe is notorious for his ability to rope others into casting spells for his enchantments with flattery, wheeling & dealing or even, it is said, blackmail. He is Grimport's second and makes most of the day-to-day decisions for the Verditas order. As such, he wields a great deal of power in managing resources within the covenant. He seems to have no great respect for anyone other than Prummel—and that relationship often appears to be a not-so-friendly rivalry. Their relationship is even frostier now since a show-down prompted by Arcalathe's censure of Finn and Prummel's angry defense. While the hostility towards Finn makes Arcalathe the butt of many jokes among the mundane staff of the Order, it has cut off Finn's chance for a traditional tutelage in the order. It appears that Arcalathe's fury has only increased as Finn's relationship with his daughter Marabeth has encouraged her to travel and experiment. The wealth that Finn has brought back to the covenant has put further pressure on Arcalathe to prove that he is correct in his assessment of Finn.

Arno Draves: Arcane Master. Elderly. Has no apprentices and rarely teaches. Is rumored to be approaching senility, but his behavior in council is quiet, and thoughtful, but occasionally marked by an impatience for the slow process of covenant politics. Often fixes Pettifog with a glare when arguments break out among the younger arcanists. Grater defers to him and to no other.

Coral Breck: Master. A channeling-mentalism hybrid, he spends much of his time summoning in order to locate spirits for the Alchemists and Enchanters. His journal of true names is rumored to be about 8 volumes in length and minutely detailed—if only the entries could be decoded, he accepts only one apprentice at a time, and usually that is one of Mother Sharp's charges.

Darvil: The preeminent essence mage at the covenant, he is a researcher first and a teacher second. His sole interests outside of his researches appear to be his friendship with Prummel & Sharp and his role as bemused uncle to the charges of Mother Sharp. Like Arno, there are rumors of his approaching senility.

Dashiel: Preeminent Researcher; works closely with March Avers (non-mage!) and Darvil (essence) in "codifying"; of Arcanists, most in line with Pettifog politically. Dresses like a noble and lives among the finest of creature comforts. Apparently has a family fortune that he manages from afar.

Drindarin: Master Alchemist. A specialist in Daily items, he is renowned for his creativity in forms and effects. He has a large number of apprentices who he schools first in history and use of magic items. Students who fail to show imagination or aesthetic usually get quickly passed off to some other teacher. He is rumored to have requested Marabeth's hand in marriage at one time. He is also rumored to have sided with Arcalathe in his censure of Finn, but there is little proof and Drindarin's behavior has been neutral.

Dunner Angs: A channeling-essence hybrid who is apparently studying mentalism in order to petition for standing as an Arcanist; if he were to succeed, he would be the first such mage to do so. He argues that any of the three forms can be learned by anyone who is capable of one form. As such, he occasionally works with Dashiel's research group—but has been witnessed to storm away from the group angrily on at least three occasions

Evers: Master Alchemist. An alchemist specializing in potions and scrolls, he is an economic boon to the covenant. He has a cadre of apprentices who he keeps busy producing minor items for sale and trade. He is known to consider artifacts and major items a waste of time and effort, claiming that many small items are more potent if used creatively.

Grater: Specialist in offensive magics and directed spells. Has an annoying voice. Slow to anger but frightful when he gets there. Considered a Master Tactician in use of magics. Most likely to start a shouting match during council meetings, he is often accused of looking for an excuse to battle via Auras; others consider him a wily political tactician as well. A vocal cheerleader for his star pupil, Boshra, Grater is said to encourage too much rashness in his charges.

Grimport: Head Enchanter & Master of the Order (Verditas) associated with this Covenant; Arcanist. His apparent agenda is profitability first, followed by works which will prove his order to be the true source of the most powerful items created by contemporary magics. Thus far, he has excelled at the first part of his agenda, but fallen short on the second. This failure is often ascribed to his zeal for the first part-which saps the time and creativity from his alchemists. The major works completed during his tenure have primarily been powerful weapons finished by Londril. Some say that with the loss of Marabeth, Grimport's hope for great works is lost--and the major work which Amaril is engaging in will lower his status among the Covenant orders even further. Grimport remains calm despite this rising murmur from his peers.

Jared: Mentalism Master. A young mentalism master who is considered Prummel's lieutenant. Like many mentalists, he splits his studies between magic and mundane skills. However, while Prummel appears to be a master of arms, Jared appears to be of more scholarly pursuits. Jared is soft-spoken and patient; he rarely prompts Aura displays from his students, although he is known to be capable of it. Instead, he prefers to lead his students in a quieter path of self-discovery. His students are usually very loyal to him. He himself appears to still consider Prummel his mentor, and confers with him often. He is visibly miserable among large groups of people--which is ascribed to a peculiar sensitivity that makes him such an effective teacher in small groups.

Jarl: Armorer whose large family serves in mundane positions throughout the covenant. Wields as much power politically in the covenant as any mundane can. Daughter Amalia Jarl.

John of the Gray: Planar & gating specialist. Not seen much, except to attend council meetings. Known to be neutral in politics. Rumors tying him with the young adventuring group have grown increasingly common, although he remains aloof from most covenant dealings still.

Kalavati Giasotto: Huntsman; quiet patient trainer; excellent climber, trapper and bow shot. Solitary by nature.

Keldan: Chief of Security. A small wiry man who goes wherever he pleases, confers with Pettifog and Prummel at his own convenience and seems to know everyone and everything. Has a small staff of equally unimposing people who are apparently trained to work closely with each other. Oddly, he also seems to have a number of maids, stewards and gardeners who report to him as well. Is very pleasant in demeanor and seems amused at the antics of young mages. Occasionally oversees training in unarmed combat.

Kifter the Librarian: He's the covenant librarian and the steward of magic items. An expert in artifacts, he often seems at odds with Pettifog—although it should be noted that he has always done whatever Pettifog requests. On the other hand, while Grimport and he appear to have parallel philosophies, Kifter often refuses a-import's requests. Kifter is rumored to show favoritism to the members of the most recent adventuring group, although no one has dared to intimate that he has released any artifacts or major items into their possession. This despite the fact that several of the members carry items of apparent great power is a testimony to the strength of Kifter's reputation as a miser of such permissions.

Londril: An enchanter of weapons and armor, he works closely with the mundane smiths. He also is known for keeping his apprentices busy producing items. He is usually personally working on major items which require weeks, months or years to complete. Where these items go is a complete mystery to most. He is notable as one of the few alchemists to publicly argue against the censure of Finn, although he knew him only cursorily as one of a batch of young alchemists apprenticing in his smithys.

Marcus of the Brown: A channeling-essence hybrid, he is noted for his devotion to the covenant's magical installations. Many of the continuing spells that keep the covenant comfortable and safe are constructed or planned and maintained by Marcus and his apprentices. He is credited with perfecting the Rosebudwicz traditional enchantment of "Bringing Down the Skies"--the preferred method of lighting the covenant which transfers the lighting conditions outside to the caverns within. It is perhaps Rosebudwicz's one claim to fame among the other covenants.

Marforth: Captain of the Guard. Former adventurer who settled in the covenant in exchange for having a nasty curse lifted. Loyal and efficient, he is also a weapons trainer.

Masters: A specialist in binding, Masters works unceasingly at designing forms conducive to holding spirits of different types. He is a perfectionist who makes life for the mundane craftsmen and smiths at the covenant difficult, since his drafting skills lag far behind his imagination. Lately, he has been taking on apprentices who have skills in mechanitions and animations, presumably to develop more adaptable forms for his bindings. He is volubly frustrated and angered by Arcalathe's recent behavior, which has led to the loss (in his mind) of both Marabeth and Finn, whom he considered the most promising talents for furthering the craft in his preferred direction.

Melissa: Daughter of Yancy, mastersmith. Erun met her at the YearTurn dance, dumped punch on her dress after dancing quite nicely with her, but managed to smooth things over with her by the end of the evening. She's about 13 and already quite pretty. Spends a good deal of time with the Jarl children. Among the group of girls who trade off crushes on Finn, Draeus and Knoyes.

Moravi: An essence-mentalism hybrid, he spends much of his time in research on defensive spells. His apprentices typically are left to their own devices, except for regular gauntlets that he schedules. He is acknowledged as the best teacher of basic frameworks, altho he rarely teaches Shelves or Security Systems beyond the basic levels. He has a dry wit which makes his lectures fairly tolerable, but is distracted in most one-on-one consultations.

Morningstar: Poisons specialist among alchemist order; like Rotruck, not particularly enamored of his order, although he does spend a great deal of time with Evers (Morningstar is perhaps Evers only rival for profitability via potions, as Momingstar's preparations of poisons in all forms and antidotes as well demand a high price). The two apparently conduct research in different delivery methods for effects and also in storage containers.

Mother Sharp: The preeminent channeler at the covenant and the self-appointed "mother" to the youngest apprentices and students here. She is fairly sweet-natured and notoriously protective of her charges. Few at the covenant would willingly attempt to second-guess her discipline. Professionally, she is the one person to whom Coral Breck always defers, and she and Coral often work together. Whereas Coral concentrates on summoning, Mother Sharp is the expert on maintaining bound spirits. Her own journal of true names is rumored to be somewhat lesser in number of volumes, but more potent in quality of spirits.

Neighbor Ferth: A channeling-mentalism hybrid who is the most politically active among the hybrids. He has aligned himself with Akeel, which means that where he stands changes from day to day. As a teacher, he is exacting and quick to anger.

Parnell: Keldan’s second (non Galistrian). A big man (6'7") who has an incredibly pleasant voice, he often appears standing just behind Keldan as if to accentuate their physical differences and to demonstrate the solidity of their intent. Many who find Keldan infuriating prefer to deal with the soft-spoken Parnell. Parnell apparently handles the concerns of the day-to-day logistics of covenant security, and leaves the "strange" stuff to his Galistrian staff. His relationships with the Galistrians seem to be one of mutual respect and polite distance, as Parnell is apparently a devout Humankti who chose to serve in the covenant as part of some geas. He arrived with Pettifog. The non-Galistrian security staff have carefully been discouraged from thinking that he will champion them in disputes with the ways of the Galistrians; as a result, the staff has avoided becoming factionalized.

Pettifog: Head Mage & Master of this Covenant; Astrologer; Arcanist. "Heads the secret college". Is the main force behind Rosebudwicz's eccentric choice to send out groups of mages as adventurers. Two groups before the present one have seemingly come to a bad end, although their fates are unknown. Was sent to Rosebudwicz to strike a better relationship between the Covenant and its sister order, Verditas. Is very concerned about the omens of the upcoming "change"--apparently the adventuring groups are his answer to this. Many changes occurred upon his arrival, including the agreement with Galistre that furnished so many of his security staff and a large number of transfers both to and from Rosebudwicz. He is considered even-handed by his mages, if a bit slow to answer to their concerns.

Prummel: The preeminent mentalist at the covenant. His reputation is that he is exactly what he needs to be to get done what he wants. Although not considered a political mage, he has always been able to extract the resources he wants from the covenant. He is married to Mother Sharp, known to be close friends with Darvil and Anna and is rumored to have close relations with a number of mages who belong to the covenant but do not reside there. Rumor has it that he once traveled "outside" for the covenant with Mother Sharp, Darvil, Anna and some others. Prummel is unique among the mages in that he deals directly and respectfully with the mundane population at the covenant.

Redith: Centaur smith who specializes in heavy weaponry. Rumored to have been kidnapped into service at the covenant. Rarely speaks.

Rotruck: Materials specialist among alchemists order; takes a certain pleasure in the horribleness of his name and pronounces it ROT-nick; specializes in preparation and storage of every imaginable magically or practically useful substance; no especial fondness for the personalities among his own order, seeing them as demanding. The materials and resources brought into the covenant by the group have been a real boon to him, and he is sympathetic to their aims (especially if more oddities seem forthcoming). More than anyone, is capable of locating obscure substances and identifying necessary storage and preparation procedures. Among the alchemists, most suspect he exempts himself from item creation by using his position as inventorist as an excuse. However, he can and does produce materials in the necessary form efficiently and reliably, so his fellows are hesitant to call for a replacement.

Samhi: A young boy (7-8) from Nowhere who was placed into the care of John of the Gray by the Undine herself. Shows a propensity for mentalism. Currently living with the Jarls and their extended family. Has adjusted well.

Silvestri: Woodsman; sympathethic (even protective) to Ginet; more outgoing and accepting of mages than most mundanes; likes animals and is quite good with them, despite little formal training.

Slakey: Provinder; former wheeler-and-dealer who ended up here under less-than-happy circumstances; nervous around most mages; not allowed to leave covenant; still has contacts on the outside whom he uses to get goods; claims to be able to arrange for "anything...anything you might possibly be able to imagine--but it'll cost you."

Stouder: Metal lore specialist; another specialist among the Verditas order, Stouder works most closely with the smiths and metal crafters. He is a voluble proponent of acquiring more powerful elemental forges, and has suggested on several occasions that a second smithing area should be pioneered on one of the islands with active volcanos. So far, he has not convinced any smiths to relocate to such a location. He keeps an inventory of specialty metals that he will occasionally mete out to worthwhile projects. The uproar about Amaril's new project was made somewhat more pronounced when he extended a small quantity of mithril to her that none of the other alchemists even knew he had in his possession. He remains tight-lipped about the source of the mithril and whether more exists.

Werth: Covenant steward, he takes care of all day-to-day mundane matters within the covenant. He is also charged with acquiring mundane personnel for the covenant. Until Finn took an interest in his situation, had virtually no magic items at his disposal for the large undertaking required to keep the covenant running. Considers himself indebted to the young mages that have worked to make his and his peoples' work so much easier. Has a powerful intellect spirit bound into a metal gecko animation that assists with inventory and accounting (called Hizeth).

Yeaves: Youngest of the Arcanists, he is burdened with most of the teaching responsibilities and has yet to develop a "voice" on the council of Arcanists.