Hello everybody. First things first - did y'all have a good Christmas/Hanukkah/Ramadan/Solstice? Get all the presents you asked for? Or... whatever it is that happens in non-Christmas holidays... I'm gonna be honest, I'm a bit vague on other religions... downside to going to a church-funded school, they aren't exactly fond of promoting different faiths.
... Which is a shame. It's always left me a bit sad/embarrassed.
Anyway, with that out the way, I just thought I'd take this opportunity to consider the year in passing, and the year still to come.
So, first off, I probably owe an apology. Cos, last time I did this... which I now realise was on the blog's birthday, not at the end of the year... I promised to do more bat-reps... which I have plainly failed at. To be honest, it's not that I don't like doing them - I honestly really enjoy them... it's just that they're incredibly time consuming.
First off, because they require me to organise them in advance - which, admittedly, isn't a great deal of effort, but does require I okay it with everyone the day before, find the charger for the camera and set that away the morning of, and then steal a notebook to jot everything down in... Which, brings me to the main reason I don't do them. They're less fun games. Not the game itself - that's as fun as ever - but it means that, rather than sharing stories and making jokes with my friends, I have to sit off to one side, frantically scribbling away in the vain hope that I don't slow down the game... which, at best, means I have less fun, but could well annoy everyone else if I take to long...
So, yeah... bat-reps are not perfect. Maybe at some point I should record a game of magic on camera and just post that. but, then you'd actually hear how annoying my voice is, and no one wants that... Maybe if I muted it.
But, I will put in a bit more effort these next two months to post stuff. Maybe just a battle-report of X-wing - I did mention starting that, right? - perhaps I'll be lucky enough to post our first session of Scion. I hope.
... but, regardless... I really wanna thank you all for the past year. It's... well, not been the best. But, I've enjoyed having an outlet, and the fact that people actually want to read it... well, that's almost too good to be true.
So, seriously; thank you. I really hope you enjoy reading this even half as much as I enjoy writing it.
Here's to a fantastic new year.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 26 December 2015
Saturday, 19 December 2015
As to Tony...
So, ... I thought I'd write a bit about Tony, my character in Scion.
Bit of backstory first. So, Anthony Fascili was born - assuming our game is contemporary - in Detroit in the mid-nineties to an Italian-American family. His mother was Samantha Falisci, a waitress in one of the cafes by the marina, his father a coastguard who left soon after his birth. Samantha never remarried, and often struggled to care for her son, less financially than for time - she usually left for work not long after he woke, and rarely returned before dark. Lacking family in the area, she frequently relied on neighbours to ensure Anthony was cared for.
Things changed when Tony hit puberty - he began to refuse the help of others, growing more and more embarrassed by the constant care. At the same time, he grew hostile towards his mother, blaming her for much of their problems. Rows grew frequent, as did nights when he refused to return home.
What he did these nights was a secret he never told his mother, but it wasn't half so bad as she imagined. He was simply trying to get the money to move away; through cons, tricks and fast-talking. Some nights, he'd convince the clerk in the convenience store that his brother was through the back, and it was okay to sell him that crate of beer, then sell it off to the underage for twice the price. Others, he'd be the street magician, or the kid on a street corner shelling you with a couple cups and a silver dollar.
Throughout his early teens, Tony came up with a dozen or more ways to get rich quick, with varying degrees of success. The best earned him a couple dozen dollars, which he tended to spend a lot sooner than he'd intended. Other times ended rather worse; generally with a black eye and a bruised ego, though he had so far managed to avoid any excessive attention from the police - certainly none that he couldn't bluff his way out of.
And then everything changed when he turned sixteen. The day started as normal; he awoke alone, a note from his mother wishing him a happy birthday and promising a nice meal that night sat upon a small pile of presents. A few new games, a pair of socks, and a couple books. And then, at the bottom of the pile was something quite unusual:
A present from Quinn; his father.
Bemused and more than a little surprised, Tony opened the box to reveal three items; a brass signet ring, and a pair of cuff links displaying a horse on one, and a wolf on the other. At the bottom was a small note inviting him to a pier at midday to meet his erstwhile parent.
Tony reacted... less than well. He thought that the present meant his mother had at least some contact with his father, and had deliberately concealed it from him. He flew into a rage, throwing the box out of the window and marching across town to confront his mother; angry, hurt and confused.
What precisely occurred is a bit of a haze, even to Tony. He remembers flashes; getting off the bus, marching up to the marina, someone ungodly tall, a scream, and his lungs screaming for air. The next clear memory he had was of awaking downriver on Grosse Ile.
And, more importantly, of the Hippocampus staring at him in disapproval. After a short discussion about how, no, he was not actually hallucinating, honest, the Hippocampus explained Tony's unusual heritage, about why his father had never been there, and most importantly about his new found calling in life. Tony was... unhappy about some of them, but realised that this was essentially the chance h'ed always wanted - a reason to go off, make a life, have adventures, and the knowledge that he was doing it all for a reason.
It took a goodly while to get home from there, even hitchhiking, but by sundown he was ready to set out for his new life. He'd recovered his Birthrights, and the money he'd managed to save up, which was just enough to buy him an old Plymoth Barracuda. Soon after he departed, travelling west to find Titanspawn to fight, and mortals to trick.
Sometime in this period he picked up the habit of wearing almost exclusively a pin-striped suit, and blue- or green shirts, though it is a rare day he adds a tie. He reached the west coast not long before his eighteenth, and after spending several months in Seattle he felt a tug drawing him south and east, until eventually he met his troupe in Las Vegas.
... And, I reckon we'll leave it there. I might go into characterisation at a later date, but... to be honest, I'm still coming to grips with this guy. I'd like a little more time to see what comes natural before writing it down... not much going back after I tell you lot, is there?
Anyway, thank you for reading... and sorry I'm cutting it a little fine. But, on the upside... Merry Christmas! Thought I'd forget, didn't you? Well, no - it's Christmas in less than a week, and I am positively buzzing. Let's see how exited I am in a week's time...
Volodanti out.
Bit of backstory first. So, Anthony Fascili was born - assuming our game is contemporary - in Detroit in the mid-nineties to an Italian-American family. His mother was Samantha Falisci, a waitress in one of the cafes by the marina, his father a coastguard who left soon after his birth. Samantha never remarried, and often struggled to care for her son, less financially than for time - she usually left for work not long after he woke, and rarely returned before dark. Lacking family in the area, she frequently relied on neighbours to ensure Anthony was cared for.
Things changed when Tony hit puberty - he began to refuse the help of others, growing more and more embarrassed by the constant care. At the same time, he grew hostile towards his mother, blaming her for much of their problems. Rows grew frequent, as did nights when he refused to return home.
What he did these nights was a secret he never told his mother, but it wasn't half so bad as she imagined. He was simply trying to get the money to move away; through cons, tricks and fast-talking. Some nights, he'd convince the clerk in the convenience store that his brother was through the back, and it was okay to sell him that crate of beer, then sell it off to the underage for twice the price. Others, he'd be the street magician, or the kid on a street corner shelling you with a couple cups and a silver dollar.
Throughout his early teens, Tony came up with a dozen or more ways to get rich quick, with varying degrees of success. The best earned him a couple dozen dollars, which he tended to spend a lot sooner than he'd intended. Other times ended rather worse; generally with a black eye and a bruised ego, though he had so far managed to avoid any excessive attention from the police - certainly none that he couldn't bluff his way out of.
And then everything changed when he turned sixteen. The day started as normal; he awoke alone, a note from his mother wishing him a happy birthday and promising a nice meal that night sat upon a small pile of presents. A few new games, a pair of socks, and a couple books. And then, at the bottom of the pile was something quite unusual:
A present from Quinn; his father.
Bemused and more than a little surprised, Tony opened the box to reveal three items; a brass signet ring, and a pair of cuff links displaying a horse on one, and a wolf on the other. At the bottom was a small note inviting him to a pier at midday to meet his erstwhile parent.
Tony reacted... less than well. He thought that the present meant his mother had at least some contact with his father, and had deliberately concealed it from him. He flew into a rage, throwing the box out of the window and marching across town to confront his mother; angry, hurt and confused.
What precisely occurred is a bit of a haze, even to Tony. He remembers flashes; getting off the bus, marching up to the marina, someone ungodly tall, a scream, and his lungs screaming for air. The next clear memory he had was of awaking downriver on Grosse Ile.
And, more importantly, of the Hippocampus staring at him in disapproval. After a short discussion about how, no, he was not actually hallucinating, honest, the Hippocampus explained Tony's unusual heritage, about why his father had never been there, and most importantly about his new found calling in life. Tony was... unhappy about some of them, but realised that this was essentially the chance h'ed always wanted - a reason to go off, make a life, have adventures, and the knowledge that he was doing it all for a reason.
It took a goodly while to get home from there, even hitchhiking, but by sundown he was ready to set out for his new life. He'd recovered his Birthrights, and the money he'd managed to save up, which was just enough to buy him an old Plymoth Barracuda. Soon after he departed, travelling west to find Titanspawn to fight, and mortals to trick.
Sometime in this period he picked up the habit of wearing almost exclusively a pin-striped suit, and blue- or green shirts, though it is a rare day he adds a tie. He reached the west coast not long before his eighteenth, and after spending several months in Seattle he felt a tug drawing him south and east, until eventually he met his troupe in Las Vegas.
... And, I reckon we'll leave it there. I might go into characterisation at a later date, but... to be honest, I'm still coming to grips with this guy. I'd like a little more time to see what comes natural before writing it down... not much going back after I tell you lot, is there?
Anyway, thank you for reading... and sorry I'm cutting it a little fine. But, on the upside... Merry Christmas! Thought I'd forget, didn't you? Well, no - it's Christmas in less than a week, and I am positively buzzing. Let's see how exited I am in a week's time...
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 12 December 2015
A lil more Perry
Still no pictures I am afraid. I actually visited the Unjust's the other day, and played a game against him... And yet still forgot to take the gorram pictures.
I'm kinda an idiot.
So, anyway... since it's so late (I probably owe an apology for that too), here's a bit more of the story of Peregrinus... I should probably start writing, since we're damn-near caught up.
Told you it was a short story.
Anyway, cheers hope you're still enjoying it, and I'll see you next week with something a bit less thrown together.
Volodanti out.
I'm kinda an idiot.
So, anyway... since it's so late (I probably owe an apology for that too), here's a bit more of the story of Peregrinus... I should probably start writing, since we're damn-near caught up.
Told you it was a short story.
Anyway, cheers hope you're still enjoying it, and I'll see you next week with something a bit less thrown together.
Volodanti out.
In
the end, it took almost an hour to positively identify him. Zach Taechum; a low
level accountant working; as I had presumed, working in the city’s financial
department. He lived alone in a rented flat twelve blocks west of the Plaza; a
sizeable commute by the chute. By this time I was anxious to continue my
investigation. I flagged down the first passing cab and directed him to the
address, during which time I made a series of vox-calls to the local police,
Morticians and the Arbites.
Near
half an hour later I stood outside his building; a grey, decaying hab-block as
made up the vast majority of the city. The building had been roped off, its
inhabitants taken in to the closest bio-hazard isolation unit. They’d be held
there until I could confirm the source of the corruption.
I
took the lifter up to his floor; a cage of steel mesh pulled by huge, if
ancient, hydraulic lifters fixed on the roof. The interior of the hab-block was
haphazardly whitewashed; the paint peeling in places, lights flickering
half-heartedly above me. His door was ajar, and as I approached I could hear
someone fumbling around beyond, taking little care to remain silent. Hand
hovering over my holster, I entered the room.
The
room was cramped, less ten paces from end to end. Inside it was a combination
of lounge and kitchen, with a small, creamy sofa, a vid-screen,
refrigeration-unit, an oven, and several cupboards with an inbuilt-sink crammed
inside. The walls were painted a faded maroon; obviously left unchanged for a
decade at least, clashing quite awfully with a brown carpet and creamy ceiling.
A bulb hung unadorned from the centre of the ceiling, weakly casting its harsh
light over the room. There were a pair of adjoining rooms to my right; inside
one I could see the bowl of a toilet and a small shower. The other, I reasoned,
was his bedroom.
Sat
on the settee, leafing through a series of letters was a young, wiry man with
short, spiky black hair. He wore a loose brown waistcoat over an off-white
shirt, along with a pair of leather trousers tucked into high black boots, an
autopistol holstered at his waist. He didn’t look up as I entered, so enrapt
was he in his work.
“Aelius!
I thought I told you to remain outside.” My voice was faintly muffled by the
helm I wore.
He
looked up at that, frowning apologetically. “Sorry sir, I was anxious to get to
work, and you took quite a while to arrive.”
I
shook my head, moving into the room. Aelius was my savant, though he functioned
more as an interrogator every day. He was thirty years standard, young by both
normal standards and those of the Inquisition, with the tanned skin and dark
eyes of Talliks. I’d recruited him eight years ago from Ascension, where he’d
worked illegitimately as a hacker and data-scourer to pay off his debts to a
crime-lord. He’d assisted me in taking down the man in return for a lenient
sentence, though neither of us had realised it would be his service in my
retinue. Since then he’d served me well both procuring information and cracking
any security that barred my way. But, he was also quite apathetic when it came
to orders, and I was regularly forced to admonish him. It was a shame; really,
his mind was far quicker than mine, and his martial prowess would likely
surpass me if he ever made it that far. Still, a good servant turns away no
tools.
“What
have you discovered then?” I enquired, moving to stand before him.
He
grimaced at this, shaking his hand. “Nothing. At all; the man was a perfect
citizen. No criminal record, beyond a few nights in the drunk-tank in his early
years, and I’ve found no evidence of any illicit activities on his cogitator.
Either he’s much better at disguising files than I am, or he’s just a victim.”
I
nodded my head, turning to survey the room. Generally, cults were good at
covering their tracks – better than most criminals – but they always left a few
signs that a skilled inquisitor could find. Aelius knew these signs almost as
well as I, and if he hadn’t spotted them there was little chance I would.
Thankfully
though, I wasn’t looking for evidence of cult activity, I was looking for
evidence of the warp.
“There
likely won’t be any – he’s a victim, not a perpetrator. We’re looking for
evidence of Warpcraft somewhere… Did you bring your psy-scanner?”
“Oh,
yes, one moment…” He lent over the arm of the chair, opening the bag he’d
dumped there. After a moment of fumbling he withdrew the scanner; a short rod; with
a two-pronged tip, which would emit a faint hum if it detected any evidence of
the warp. As ever, around me, it gave a faint, half-hearted whine at my latent
abilities, but what we were looking for would be much louder.
“Scan
the bedroom, and bathroom; I’ll take this room. Alert me if you find anything.”
I nodded to him and moved off, reactivating the Ghost-Sight as I scanned the contents of the room.
We
worked for perhaps twenty minutes – far longer than it should have taken to
inspect the small apartment, perhaps, but I’d always placed thoroughness above
speed. Eventually; about the time I was checking the cupboard under the sink,
Aelius called for me.
“Sir,
we got something.” He stuck his head out from the bathroom, waving me in.
Closing the door to the cupboard, I moved through to the small room.
Inside,
Aelius was pointing the scanner towards the sink, the device emitting a loud
drone as it detected the psychic energy emitting from the area. Sadly, the device
was no more precise than that, and without touching anything Aelius could not
narrow the search.
I
could though; one object there was lit up with an inner light; a purplish-red
that seemed both malevolent and welcoming; inescapably evil, but wanting to drag
you down with it. We had found the source of the affliction.
It was tooth powder.
Saturday, 5 December 2015
A bit more Zetum
So, slightly wobbly week. Didn't get a whole lot done, and the Unjust still hasn't taken any photos of my most recent work... so, that's that out the window. And I don't wanna give you two weeks of Perry, so what to do?
Well, I could relate what happened in Scion, but as I said, I think it'd be better for everyone if I did that after a couple sessions - cos updates will be few and far between, and I don't wanna give you a thirty second update now when I could write a decent sized post if I just waited.
So, more Zetum I suppose.
He had a lot of adventures over the most recent campaign - he joined a crusade, killed a Chaos Lord (after being crushed by him) and even became the leader of a Khornate Cult at one stage... whilst wielding a plasma gun and a combat knife. No one ever called him sensible.
Except himself. Repeatedly.
But, well, I've talked about his past, and then his motivation... but what about his skills? It was a common joke during the campaign that he'd be unstoppable if everyone around his would just behave rationally for ten minutes. His main strength was how good he was at planning, and weakness that everyone around him was... well, Chaotic.
So, what's he good at? Well, as I said - he's an excellent planner. He exemplifies the Alpha Legion's multi-layered strategies - he has a dozen or more back-ups for any situation he's likely to face, though he's less good at improvising. It is a very rare occasion when he has not plan to counter his foes, but when that happens he tends to either freeze up - just for a moment or two, but that's often long enough - or else do the first thing that pops into his head... exemplified in the campaign when he deliberately toppled a Terminator onto himself...
He is also, apparently, a very popular leader - inspiring Khornates to express genuine concern at the thought of his apparent death... though, to be fair, he had taken to shooting anyone who disagreed, so maybe he'd just routed out the less-idolising members of his coven.
... But what about his skills as a warrior rather than a sergeant? Well, like most of his kin, he is proficient in both stealth and sabotage - the first thing I ever wrote about him, actually, was sneaking into an outpost and deactivating the defences. In melee he's... well, decidedly average. In a fair fight, he's a fifty/fifty chance of beating a loyalist, and would probably lose to most Chaos Marines... that being said, it is a rare day when he fights fair - he'll happily shoot a foe who looks to be gearing up for a duel, and if that's not an option he has a wrist-blade that comes as quite the surprise to his would-be-adversary...
... and in case you're wondering - it's mounted on the back of his arm. So I'm ripping off Republic Commandos, not Assassins Creed.
But, ultimately, where he excels is as a marksman. He favours either plasma guns or scoped bolters - the former in open combat, the latter on reconnaissance. He is a capable pistolier - actually that might develop as his storyline progresses - but mostly he prefers two-handed rifles. He'll never be a Telion, but he can out-shoot 90% of his fellows, and carries a variety of tricks to aid him in when he's outgunned - from smoke grenades and cryo-bombs (developed quite recently, and never used for their intended function), to more esoteric equipment - at least when he can get a hold of it.
... I reckon that's probably a good time to cut off. I could describe him physically, but I don't know that it'd add much - and since I still don't have a model for him, I don't wanna write myself a cheque my clumsy mitts can't cash.
So, lets leave it here. Thank you so much for reading, and I'll try and get some photos taken for next week.
And Merry Christmas. Gotta love this time-a-year.
Volodanti out.
Well, I could relate what happened in Scion, but as I said, I think it'd be better for everyone if I did that after a couple sessions - cos updates will be few and far between, and I don't wanna give you a thirty second update now when I could write a decent sized post if I just waited.
So, more Zetum I suppose.
He had a lot of adventures over the most recent campaign - he joined a crusade, killed a Chaos Lord (after being crushed by him) and even became the leader of a Khornate Cult at one stage... whilst wielding a plasma gun and a combat knife. No one ever called him sensible.
Except himself. Repeatedly.
But, well, I've talked about his past, and then his motivation... but what about his skills? It was a common joke during the campaign that he'd be unstoppable if everyone around his would just behave rationally for ten minutes. His main strength was how good he was at planning, and weakness that everyone around him was... well, Chaotic.
So, what's he good at? Well, as I said - he's an excellent planner. He exemplifies the Alpha Legion's multi-layered strategies - he has a dozen or more back-ups for any situation he's likely to face, though he's less good at improvising. It is a very rare occasion when he has not plan to counter his foes, but when that happens he tends to either freeze up - just for a moment or two, but that's often long enough - or else do the first thing that pops into his head... exemplified in the campaign when he deliberately toppled a Terminator onto himself...
He is also, apparently, a very popular leader - inspiring Khornates to express genuine concern at the thought of his apparent death... though, to be fair, he had taken to shooting anyone who disagreed, so maybe he'd just routed out the less-idolising members of his coven.
... But what about his skills as a warrior rather than a sergeant? Well, like most of his kin, he is proficient in both stealth and sabotage - the first thing I ever wrote about him, actually, was sneaking into an outpost and deactivating the defences. In melee he's... well, decidedly average. In a fair fight, he's a fifty/fifty chance of beating a loyalist, and would probably lose to most Chaos Marines... that being said, it is a rare day when he fights fair - he'll happily shoot a foe who looks to be gearing up for a duel, and if that's not an option he has a wrist-blade that comes as quite the surprise to his would-be-adversary...
... and in case you're wondering - it's mounted on the back of his arm. So I'm ripping off Republic Commandos, not Assassins Creed.
But, ultimately, where he excels is as a marksman. He favours either plasma guns or scoped bolters - the former in open combat, the latter on reconnaissance. He is a capable pistolier - actually that might develop as his storyline progresses - but mostly he prefers two-handed rifles. He'll never be a Telion, but he can out-shoot 90% of his fellows, and carries a variety of tricks to aid him in when he's outgunned - from smoke grenades and cryo-bombs (developed quite recently, and never used for their intended function), to more esoteric equipment - at least when he can get a hold of it.
... I reckon that's probably a good time to cut off. I could describe him physically, but I don't know that it'd add much - and since I still don't have a model for him, I don't wanna write myself a cheque my clumsy mitts can't cash.
So, lets leave it here. Thank you so much for reading, and I'll try and get some photos taken for next week.
And Merry Christmas. Gotta love this time-a-year.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 28 November 2015
A bit more story
So, since it's been a while, I thought I'd give you a bit more of that story I started a while ago... I mean yes; I slept in, and didn't get a chance to take pictures of my latest model, but... lets ignore that, shall we?
Anyway, another chunk of the 'novel' - more a short story than anything, but never mind that. I hope you like it, and I'll hopefully have those pictures for next week.
Cheers for reading.
Volodanti out.
I arrived in a rented automobil; a short, grey wedge of plastic and faded leather driven by an inbuilt servitor. The sky was a dreary grey; a thin mist of rain fell almost constantly over the city, and the wind was blowing up from the south, bringing with it the chill of polar climates. The few pedestrians we passed hurried on their way, none desiring to remain in the miserable weather for longer than was strictly necessary. The streets were made almost entirely of a mottled grey stone; pavement and walls alike, almost perfectly matching the grey clouds overhead. Even the few, dim streetlamps we passed were unadorned gunmetal grey, their lights blinking weakly above me. It made me feel almost like I was passing through some great stone tunnel, as if the whole city were a series of corridors drilled through the bedrock of the world.
It reminded me of home.
When we pulled up, I saw that it was much like any other crime scene; a crowd of gawkers, shrunk somewhat by weather and waiting, grouped around a ring of tape and officers, hoping to catch a glance inside the plastic tent that had been erected around the body. I turned my collar up as I left the cab, leaving behind a half dozen Crowns in payment and strode towards the yellow ring.
The officers attempted to stop me as I approached; shooing me with half-hearted threats. They quickly stopped when I showed them my rosette, and invited me under the tape to investigate.
I was shown inside the tent; thankfully out of the rain which had near soaked my coat, and to the ranking officer. He was a young but hirsute lieutenant by the name of Riggs.
“He’s as we found him sir.” he said, gently tugging at his moustache. He seemed uncomfortable; but then, being in the presence of an Inquisitor is something few men feel safe with. “We’re still waiting for the medicae to inspect him and… well, frankly sir if it is a plague it’s above and beyond me.”
I grunted noncommittally. Whilst I appreciated the honesty, I couldn’t help but think it was more for his benefit than mine.
“What I can tell you,” he added hastily, as if fearing my displeasure, “is that the witnesses report the victim suffered something like a stroke, or a fit. He was reported as shivering heavily beforehand, and that became more violent towards the end. Eventually he cracked his head off the pavement… and stopped. The also said he was muttering something throughout, but of the few who could hear it couldn’t understand a word. May just have been a side-effect of the…” He trailed off, but I knew what he meant.
I leant in close, inspecting at the body. He was middle-aged; thin and wiry but gone to seed with the incurable turning of the years. His dark hair was thinning on top, face well-lined and his eyes were dark and baggy from numerous long shifts. He wore the robes of a scribe, and though no definite identification had been found he was thought to be a worker for the Administratum, as their offices were less than a five minute walk from the plaza. Given the time of day, it was likely that he was on lunch break when he died. We would probably be able to identify him simply by the work roster; comparing those who had signed out at lunch to those who had failed to sign in after.
My inspection was interrupted by a displeased cough from behind me. I looked back to see the medicae had arrived; a short, gently rounded woman with what seemed to be a permanent scowl and an augmetic left eye. She was wearing a set of blue scrubs under a heavy rain-jacket, her prematurely greying hair bound in a tight, damp bun. I could not see much more of her, as the majority of her face was obscured by a surgical mask.
“Who are you, and why are you interfering with the body?” She spoke quickly, agitation clear in her tone.
“I am Inquisitor Cucullatus Peregrinus,” I replied, rising to my feet, “And I can assure you I have not touched him.”
She blanched at that, just a little. She lowered her eyes, mumbled a quick, if forced apology and went to inspect the body. I stepped back, watching her work with a quiet interest. If my presence further disturbed her, she didn’t let it show; carrying out the post-mortem with quick, efficient movement; a quick incision into the skull, inspection of the brain matter, and closing the wound. She repeated this on the spinal cord and the heart before stepping back, marking down her findings on a data-slate, quietly speaking as she wrote them down.
“Cranial haemorrhaging, unknown cause, acerbated by a partial epileptic fit. Cause of death though, was impact trauma from striking his head on the pavement. Would have died within a minute anyway – likely saved himself significant pain in doing so. Otherwise, identical to every other case. Will have to run full blood works back at the hospital to ascertain the cause, if any.” She finished writing by signing her name at the bottom before turning back to the tent’s entrance. “Bring on the stretcher.”
“Wait a moment,” I interjected, holding up my hand to the incoming interns. There was something about this body that I could not put my finger on, something...
I reached down to my waist, unhooking my helmet from my belt. It was a simple thing to look at – a close-faced, silver helm, moulded to fit my head perfectly. It was roughly skull shaped; a dome of plasteel that followed the line of my jaw below my ears, meeting at the base of my skull. The front was a blank face, the eyes two slits of amber plastic. It provided some protection, but was more valuable for its autosenses.
When I fastened it into place the eyes immediately lit, glowing dimly in the dark confines of the tent. I blink-clicked through a few spectrums before I settled on the one I required; Ghost-Sight. It was based loosely on a psyocculum;, capable of directing my limited psychic potential. Through it, the world was a faded blur, lines distorted and the physical became insubstantial. The individuals in the tent – and those beyond – glowed with an inner radiance; faint blue but wavering, never static, always curling like a slow-burning flame. These were the souls of those around me – or rather, their psychic resonance. All but the most powerful of Pariahs glow in this light, though everyone has a different brightness.
I turned my gaze upon the body lying before me. Its flame was near extinct, only the faintest afterglow of life remained; the edges sticking stubbornly to the frail and broken shell. But that was not what interested me.
In the head, there was a dark, dull red glow, shrinking now but still noticeably there. It was an ugly thing – like a bruise in reality, torn and weeping black fire. It made me sick to luck at, but proved that I was right in remaining on Trea’vil.
Chaos had come. And only I could stop it.
Anyway, another chunk of the 'novel' - more a short story than anything, but never mind that. I hope you like it, and I'll hopefully have those pictures for next week.
Cheers for reading.
Volodanti out.
I arrived in a rented automobil; a short, grey wedge of plastic and faded leather driven by an inbuilt servitor. The sky was a dreary grey; a thin mist of rain fell almost constantly over the city, and the wind was blowing up from the south, bringing with it the chill of polar climates. The few pedestrians we passed hurried on their way, none desiring to remain in the miserable weather for longer than was strictly necessary. The streets were made almost entirely of a mottled grey stone; pavement and walls alike, almost perfectly matching the grey clouds overhead. Even the few, dim streetlamps we passed were unadorned gunmetal grey, their lights blinking weakly above me. It made me feel almost like I was passing through some great stone tunnel, as if the whole city were a series of corridors drilled through the bedrock of the world.
It reminded me of home.
When we pulled up, I saw that it was much like any other crime scene; a crowd of gawkers, shrunk somewhat by weather and waiting, grouped around a ring of tape and officers, hoping to catch a glance inside the plastic tent that had been erected around the body. I turned my collar up as I left the cab, leaving behind a half dozen Crowns in payment and strode towards the yellow ring.
The officers attempted to stop me as I approached; shooing me with half-hearted threats. They quickly stopped when I showed them my rosette, and invited me under the tape to investigate.
I was shown inside the tent; thankfully out of the rain which had near soaked my coat, and to the ranking officer. He was a young but hirsute lieutenant by the name of Riggs.
“He’s as we found him sir.” he said, gently tugging at his moustache. He seemed uncomfortable; but then, being in the presence of an Inquisitor is something few men feel safe with. “We’re still waiting for the medicae to inspect him and… well, frankly sir if it is a plague it’s above and beyond me.”
I grunted noncommittally. Whilst I appreciated the honesty, I couldn’t help but think it was more for his benefit than mine.
“What I can tell you,” he added hastily, as if fearing my displeasure, “is that the witnesses report the victim suffered something like a stroke, or a fit. He was reported as shivering heavily beforehand, and that became more violent towards the end. Eventually he cracked his head off the pavement… and stopped. The also said he was muttering something throughout, but of the few who could hear it couldn’t understand a word. May just have been a side-effect of the…” He trailed off, but I knew what he meant.
I leant in close, inspecting at the body. He was middle-aged; thin and wiry but gone to seed with the incurable turning of the years. His dark hair was thinning on top, face well-lined and his eyes were dark and baggy from numerous long shifts. He wore the robes of a scribe, and though no definite identification had been found he was thought to be a worker for the Administratum, as their offices were less than a five minute walk from the plaza. Given the time of day, it was likely that he was on lunch break when he died. We would probably be able to identify him simply by the work roster; comparing those who had signed out at lunch to those who had failed to sign in after.
My inspection was interrupted by a displeased cough from behind me. I looked back to see the medicae had arrived; a short, gently rounded woman with what seemed to be a permanent scowl and an augmetic left eye. She was wearing a set of blue scrubs under a heavy rain-jacket, her prematurely greying hair bound in a tight, damp bun. I could not see much more of her, as the majority of her face was obscured by a surgical mask.
“Who are you, and why are you interfering with the body?” She spoke quickly, agitation clear in her tone.
“I am Inquisitor Cucullatus Peregrinus,” I replied, rising to my feet, “And I can assure you I have not touched him.”
She blanched at that, just a little. She lowered her eyes, mumbled a quick, if forced apology and went to inspect the body. I stepped back, watching her work with a quiet interest. If my presence further disturbed her, she didn’t let it show; carrying out the post-mortem with quick, efficient movement; a quick incision into the skull, inspection of the brain matter, and closing the wound. She repeated this on the spinal cord and the heart before stepping back, marking down her findings on a data-slate, quietly speaking as she wrote them down.
“Cranial haemorrhaging, unknown cause, acerbated by a partial epileptic fit. Cause of death though, was impact trauma from striking his head on the pavement. Would have died within a minute anyway – likely saved himself significant pain in doing so. Otherwise, identical to every other case. Will have to run full blood works back at the hospital to ascertain the cause, if any.” She finished writing by signing her name at the bottom before turning back to the tent’s entrance. “Bring on the stretcher.”
“Wait a moment,” I interjected, holding up my hand to the incoming interns. There was something about this body that I could not put my finger on, something...
I reached down to my waist, unhooking my helmet from my belt. It was a simple thing to look at – a close-faced, silver helm, moulded to fit my head perfectly. It was roughly skull shaped; a dome of plasteel that followed the line of my jaw below my ears, meeting at the base of my skull. The front was a blank face, the eyes two slits of amber plastic. It provided some protection, but was more valuable for its autosenses.
When I fastened it into place the eyes immediately lit, glowing dimly in the dark confines of the tent. I blink-clicked through a few spectrums before I settled on the one I required; Ghost-Sight. It was based loosely on a psyocculum;, capable of directing my limited psychic potential. Through it, the world was a faded blur, lines distorted and the physical became insubstantial. The individuals in the tent – and those beyond – glowed with an inner radiance; faint blue but wavering, never static, always curling like a slow-burning flame. These were the souls of those around me – or rather, their psychic resonance. All but the most powerful of Pariahs glow in this light, though everyone has a different brightness.
I turned my gaze upon the body lying before me. Its flame was near extinct, only the faintest afterglow of life remained; the edges sticking stubbornly to the frail and broken shell. But that was not what interested me.
In the head, there was a dark, dull red glow, shrinking now but still noticeably there. It was an ugly thing – like a bruise in reality, torn and weeping black fire. It made me sick to luck at, but proved that I was right in remaining on Trea’vil.
Chaos had come. And only I could stop it.
Saturday, 21 November 2015
Son of a god!
Aaand continuing on from last week - we actually did it. We actually played an RPG that we said we were gonna.
No, I can't believe it either.
Anyway, this time, I'll just fill you in on the characters a bit... cos, to be honest, the actual events weren't that long, and I'd prefer to combine it with the next session... which, admittedly, means that it could well take a while, but otherwise this post would be about three paragraphs and an apology...
Which, I'd like to point out, does not mean that nothing happened. Just, being the opening of a new rpg, there was a bit of exposition to get out of the way, and then as groups are want to do, we split up and that always takes longer...
... anyway, characters. There were five of us, from four pantheons, and since I can I'll start with me:
Anthony 'Tony' Falisci. 19 years old, son of Neptune (not Poseidon). Originally from Detroit, he grew up as something of a con-man; constantly full of get-rich-quick schemes, but never planning an exit strategy. He likes to think of himself as always one step ahead - and is persuasive enough to convince others of it - but actually he's just incredibly good at improvising.
Bobby, a 25 year old son of Papa Legba (of the Loa). Flew over from the Caribbean, he's as hipster as they come, and always chasing a fad. Loves the unusual, and constantly friendly, he is always looking for experiences - be it experimental theatre, a twenty-beer bender, or killing a daemon. Has the odd habit of taking photos with anyone he speaks to, offering cigars to anyone he passes - though we've yet to see him actually smoke one - and stuffing anything even vaguely relevant into his top-hat.
Feyla; 26, and daughter of Freya (Momma Aesir). She's the smartest in our group, and probably from a rather better class than the rest of us. She was training as a fencer when she got the call, and has brought that diverse skill-set across to our group, capable of puzzling out clues that have the rest of us stumped, and then charging into a fight with allthe poise one can expect from a viking swords-woman... and a bit on top of that. It's hoped.
Jonny Chan, 18, son of Nezha (of the Celestial Bureaucracy), he'd just started College when he was called upon by his divine parent. Like his father, he's a typical moody teenager, backed up by the strength of a rhino (or possibly a small elephant...), he's the bruiser of the group. Not the smartest, but he more than makes up for it in a fight, and he frequently solves problems while everyone is busy trying to over-complicate things.
'Markus', 24. Son of Loki (yes, that Loki). He's a pretty-boy gangster, with the charm to back it up. Before he was called upon for a higher purpose, he made it pretty far by charisma alone, though when that didn't quite make it he was more than willing to let his pistol do the talking. The friendly face to Tony's speeches, you'd probably be better placing your trust in the performer.
... Anyway, that's our peoples. Took rather longer than I'd expected, so I gotta run. I'll tell you more when I get the chance - with a bit of luck, we'll have another session in early December...
I hope.
Volodanti out.
No, I can't believe it either.
Anyway, this time, I'll just fill you in on the characters a bit... cos, to be honest, the actual events weren't that long, and I'd prefer to combine it with the next session... which, admittedly, means that it could well take a while, but otherwise this post would be about three paragraphs and an apology...
Which, I'd like to point out, does not mean that nothing happened. Just, being the opening of a new rpg, there was a bit of exposition to get out of the way, and then as groups are want to do, we split up and that always takes longer...
... anyway, characters. There were five of us, from four pantheons, and since I can I'll start with me:
Anthony 'Tony' Falisci. 19 years old, son of Neptune (not Poseidon). Originally from Detroit, he grew up as something of a con-man; constantly full of get-rich-quick schemes, but never planning an exit strategy. He likes to think of himself as always one step ahead - and is persuasive enough to convince others of it - but actually he's just incredibly good at improvising.
Bobby, a 25 year old son of Papa Legba (of the Loa). Flew over from the Caribbean, he's as hipster as they come, and always chasing a fad. Loves the unusual, and constantly friendly, he is always looking for experiences - be it experimental theatre, a twenty-beer bender, or killing a daemon. Has the odd habit of taking photos with anyone he speaks to, offering cigars to anyone he passes - though we've yet to see him actually smoke one - and stuffing anything even vaguely relevant into his top-hat.
Feyla; 26, and daughter of Freya (Momma Aesir). She's the smartest in our group, and probably from a rather better class than the rest of us. She was training as a fencer when she got the call, and has brought that diverse skill-set across to our group, capable of puzzling out clues that have the rest of us stumped, and then charging into a fight with allthe poise one can expect from a viking swords-woman... and a bit on top of that. It's hoped.
Jonny Chan, 18, son of Nezha (of the Celestial Bureaucracy), he'd just started College when he was called upon by his divine parent. Like his father, he's a typical moody teenager, backed up by the strength of a rhino (or possibly a small elephant...), he's the bruiser of the group. Not the smartest, but he more than makes up for it in a fight, and he frequently solves problems while everyone is busy trying to over-complicate things.
'Markus', 24. Son of Loki (yes, that Loki). He's a pretty-boy gangster, with the charm to back it up. Before he was called upon for a higher purpose, he made it pretty far by charisma alone, though when that didn't quite make it he was more than willing to let his pistol do the talking. The friendly face to Tony's speeches, you'd probably be better placing your trust in the performer.
... Anyway, that's our peoples. Took rather longer than I'd expected, so I gotta run. I'll tell you more when I get the chance - with a bit of luck, we'll have another session in early December...
I hope.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 14 November 2015
By the gods!
Hello friends, and welcome back. Today is a good day; after a not insignificant amount of worry, the Testament returns to us - that's right, my PC is repaired! And, to make things even better, the Theatre Company I'm in just put on our first show. Ain't that just grand?
Oh, and Desert Bus starts today! Which, for those who don't know, is an annual charity event to raise money for Child's Play. For more information, check their website - it's a fun watch, and a good cause.
Now, since we're all warmed up, shall we get to the crux of the matter? Notice the title - as ever, it's a non-too-subtle clue... because we've decided to start Scion. One of my group used to play it at Uni, and after hearing about his adventures (and the premise) we all decided we wanted in. And, for the first time in months, we're all off at the same time. So, this Thursday, we are going to run our first session. And I'm so excited I might do a nervous wee.
Seriously though; I genuinely am looking forward to it. I haven't done an RPG in... well, probably a year or more. Which does rather suck. Gotta get my fix.
It occurs to me here that, actually, I don't know if any of you are aware of what precisely Scion is. An RPG, yes, but you may not know more.
Alright, so Scion is essentially, an alternate 21st century wherein the gods of yore were - and indeed, are - real. The core-rules include Egyptian, Graeco-Roman, Norse, Japanese, Aztec and Voodoo gods, and more importantly for playing their children. For that's what it's about - you play a so-called Scion, who aids their parents in the war against the Titans, and occasionally in settling a dispute between (or within) Pantheons.
Or, that's the plan anyway. It's one of those games wherein it's more important to have a laugh and look cool than it is to 'win'; and some of the comments within the book imply the authors intended it as such.
It seems good from what I've seen - admittedly, that's just a mechanical stand-point, but it's White Wolf's classic dice-pool system, and that has always been my favourite out of the various systems I've used. For a nice change, there's an emphasis on actually being competent though; rather than standard WoD approach of anything tougher than a kitten savaging the party.
... And that's all I can really say. I kinda wanna talk about my character here - I have a lot of ideas - but since I haven't finalised them, and won't until Monday, I probably shouldn't in case I change stuff and make what I've written here a lie. Which would be wrong.
... mostly.
Anyway, cheers again for reading, and I hope you too have had a good week. I'll see you again soon, and hopefully by then I'll be in a better position to describe what it's like. Maybe even get up a log of it.
Volodanti out.
Oh, and Desert Bus starts today! Which, for those who don't know, is an annual charity event to raise money for Child's Play. For more information, check their website - it's a fun watch, and a good cause.
Now, since we're all warmed up, shall we get to the crux of the matter? Notice the title - as ever, it's a non-too-subtle clue... because we've decided to start Scion. One of my group used to play it at Uni, and after hearing about his adventures (and the premise) we all decided we wanted in. And, for the first time in months, we're all off at the same time. So, this Thursday, we are going to run our first session. And I'm so excited I might do a nervous wee.
Seriously though; I genuinely am looking forward to it. I haven't done an RPG in... well, probably a year or more. Which does rather suck. Gotta get my fix.
It occurs to me here that, actually, I don't know if any of you are aware of what precisely Scion is. An RPG, yes, but you may not know more.
Alright, so Scion is essentially, an alternate 21st century wherein the gods of yore were - and indeed, are - real. The core-rules include Egyptian, Graeco-Roman, Norse, Japanese, Aztec and Voodoo gods, and more importantly for playing their children. For that's what it's about - you play a so-called Scion, who aids their parents in the war against the Titans, and occasionally in settling a dispute between (or within) Pantheons.
Or, that's the plan anyway. It's one of those games wherein it's more important to have a laugh and look cool than it is to 'win'; and some of the comments within the book imply the authors intended it as such.
It seems good from what I've seen - admittedly, that's just a mechanical stand-point, but it's White Wolf's classic dice-pool system, and that has always been my favourite out of the various systems I've used. For a nice change, there's an emphasis on actually being competent though; rather than standard WoD approach of anything tougher than a kitten savaging the party.
... And that's all I can really say. I kinda wanna talk about my character here - I have a lot of ideas - but since I haven't finalised them, and won't until Monday, I probably shouldn't in case I change stuff and make what I've written here a lie. Which would be wrong.
... mostly.
Anyway, cheers again for reading, and I hope you too have had a good week. I'll see you again soon, and hopefully by then I'll be in a better position to describe what it's like. Maybe even get up a log of it.
Volodanti out.
Sunday, 8 November 2015
What's going on, in my town?
Right, first off - my apologies for this being late. I got my days wrong, and thought yesterday was Friday... only realised my mistake when I went to bed. Which is kinda embarrassing...
... Well, to be fair, individual days don't mean all that much to me anymore, so I lose track of them every other week. Just unfortunate that it happened yesterday.
I fear that hobby is gonna take a back seat today, so if you're after fluff or musings, I'd skip this post.
So, you may be wondering why I didn't just quickly posted some more of the Cuculatus book? Well, basically, my computer is bricked. The hard drive needs replaced, and its currently in the shop as they wait for the new part to arrive. Which I'm sure you can understand is far from perfect.
And to be honest, I reckon my kindle is past his best - keeps shutting down whenever battery drops below 50%.
Yeah, it's not been a good week. Or fortnight really - I have only had one day off, and I spent that at a funeral.
... look, I'm gonna be honest; it's just been a bad season. A really depressing, exhaustive season. And I really hate it.
... anyway, that's probably enough of me complaining. I'll do better next week, promise.
Cheers,
Andrew.
... Well, to be fair, individual days don't mean all that much to me anymore, so I lose track of them every other week. Just unfortunate that it happened yesterday.
I fear that hobby is gonna take a back seat today, so if you're after fluff or musings, I'd skip this post.
So, you may be wondering why I didn't just quickly posted some more of the Cuculatus book? Well, basically, my computer is bricked. The hard drive needs replaced, and its currently in the shop as they wait for the new part to arrive. Which I'm sure you can understand is far from perfect.
And to be honest, I reckon my kindle is past his best - keeps shutting down whenever battery drops below 50%.
Yeah, it's not been a good week. Or fortnight really - I have only had one day off, and I spent that at a funeral.
... look, I'm gonna be honest; it's just been a bad season. A really depressing, exhaustive season. And I really hate it.
... anyway, that's probably enough of me complaining. I'll do better next week, promise.
Cheers,
Andrew.
Saturday, 31 October 2015
Can't we just talk about it...?
You know what bugs me?
A lot of stuff actually. Narrow it down.
Alright - you know what bugs me about RPGs?
... We may be here a while...
Anyway, to cut a long story short, it's the lack of non-violent plot resolution in pen-and-paper rpgs.
Now, that is not to say that there is no possibility for that. Or that I think that combat should be illegal... in games I mean. Just, RPGs tend to place a large emphasis on the combat over riddle-solving or diplomacy.
Now, don't get me wrong - I know why this is. What makes fiction more exciting that reality is the times when violence does solve problems. Be honest - would you really read a fantasy novel where no one ever comes to blows; everyone carries great big swords constantly, and then just talk their way through problems?
Boring.
So, what about skills? Everyone has watched basically any spy film and been utterly amazed at the tricks and subterfuge that they all use to get in, get the info, and get out. From impressive parkour to light fingers to schmoozing. How cool is that? Very...
... Except when all that happens is you say "I'm gonna stealth" and roll a couple dice... that's rather less fun. And, yes, I do understand that the fun all happens in the mind - just rolling dice and saying 'this guy took 6 damage' is no fun...
... But, there's a sense of visceral spectacle in combat, even when it is just rolling dice. Everyone can imagine something impressive when you say 'I swing my sword... and lop off his head!" - I bet you just imagines something impressive even from something just that simple - whereas it doesn't work so well with less-lethal actions. "I try to convince him... and do!" - not that interesting, is it?
Of course, you can make stuff like that fun. And I've ran combat-free sessions that everyone enjoyed a lot... but, It takes a lot more effort. If for no other reason than even talk of combat automatically gets the blood pumping - it's instinct, isn't it? - while talk of riddle-solving... you gotta be in a very particular mood for that to work.
Which might just be a failing of mine - either as a GM or a Player, maybe both - but it's still just something that bugs me.
... which I suppose brings me in a neat circle. I told you something bugged me, and then explained why it did, and why that was...
You'd almost think I'd had this planned from the start... Yeah right.
... Not sure I have a solution to this right now... maybe I will next week. And if not, I ought to have some pretty pictures of pretty spaceships. I hope.
Anyway, as ever; cheers for reading. And I look forward to seeing you next week.
Volodanti out.
A lot of stuff actually. Narrow it down.
Alright - you know what bugs me about RPGs?
... We may be here a while...
Anyway, to cut a long story short, it's the lack of non-violent plot resolution in pen-and-paper rpgs.
Now, that is not to say that there is no possibility for that. Or that I think that combat should be illegal... in games I mean. Just, RPGs tend to place a large emphasis on the combat over riddle-solving or diplomacy.
Now, don't get me wrong - I know why this is. What makes fiction more exciting that reality is the times when violence does solve problems. Be honest - would you really read a fantasy novel where no one ever comes to blows; everyone carries great big swords constantly, and then just talk their way through problems?
Boring.
So, what about skills? Everyone has watched basically any spy film and been utterly amazed at the tricks and subterfuge that they all use to get in, get the info, and get out. From impressive parkour to light fingers to schmoozing. How cool is that? Very...
... Except when all that happens is you say "I'm gonna stealth" and roll a couple dice... that's rather less fun. And, yes, I do understand that the fun all happens in the mind - just rolling dice and saying 'this guy took 6 damage' is no fun...
... But, there's a sense of visceral spectacle in combat, even when it is just rolling dice. Everyone can imagine something impressive when you say 'I swing my sword... and lop off his head!" - I bet you just imagines something impressive even from something just that simple - whereas it doesn't work so well with less-lethal actions. "I try to convince him... and do!" - not that interesting, is it?
Of course, you can make stuff like that fun. And I've ran combat-free sessions that everyone enjoyed a lot... but, It takes a lot more effort. If for no other reason than even talk of combat automatically gets the blood pumping - it's instinct, isn't it? - while talk of riddle-solving... you gotta be in a very particular mood for that to work.
Which might just be a failing of mine - either as a GM or a Player, maybe both - but it's still just something that bugs me.
... which I suppose brings me in a neat circle. I told you something bugged me, and then explained why it did, and why that was...
You'd almost think I'd had this planned from the start... Yeah right.
... Not sure I have a solution to this right now... maybe I will next week. And if not, I ought to have some pretty pictures of pretty spaceships. I hope.
Anyway, as ever; cheers for reading. And I look forward to seeing you next week.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 24 October 2015
I am Terrible...
... Yeah, not gonna lie - I entirely forgot about this til about 6pm... when I was at work. I am not a clever man.
... In my defence, I had intended to write it up before starting work, and then a friend asked me to help him learn MT:G, and what sort of friend would I be if I refused?
... A good friend. Cos friends don't let friends do drugs. Remember that children.
Sor, anyway, I am a dolt. A dolty-dolty-dolt. And it's now half ten and I've not even started what I was meant to discuss - the issue of combat-focus in most tabletop RPG's - and instead, I'm left grasping at straws looking for something to write about...
So, screw it - earlier than I'd intended, but here's a bit more of the Cuculatus short. Just a snippet. I'll space it out more in future, but to be fair I have the next two-three weeks planned anyway, so... yeah. Sorry again, but hope you enjoy.
Volodanti out.
... In my defence, I had intended to write it up before starting work, and then a friend asked me to help him learn MT:G, and what sort of friend would I be if I refused?
... A good friend. Cos friends don't let friends do drugs. Remember that children.
Sor, anyway, I am a dolt. A dolty-dolty-dolt. And it's now half ten and I've not even started what I was meant to discuss - the issue of combat-focus in most tabletop RPG's - and instead, I'm left grasping at straws looking for something to write about...
So, screw it - earlier than I'd intended, but here's a bit more of the Cuculatus short. Just a snippet. I'll space it out more in future, but to be fair I have the next two-three weeks planned anyway, so... yeah. Sorry again, but hope you enjoy.
Volodanti out.
It
was beneath me.
That’s
what many would say. Most, even. Certainly, it’s what I would have said had I
discovered one of my brothers investigating it.
And
yet…
I
had been on Tre’avil for three months now. It had started as an investigation
of certain Guild Heads for corruption – for one, I had even uncovered evidence
of trading with Xenos – but it was clearly destined to be a civil case, better
suited for deskers; not the place of a field agent, and I’d happily handed it
to one of my seniors to be handled off world. I’d taken a brief sabbatical, in
case I was called upon to provide additional evidence, support, or some other
aid in the prosecution. I’d rented out a floor of a mid-rise hotel and allowed
myself a week’s break from active duty.
It
was on the first day I noticed the death. It was a short story halfway through
the news slate I was reading; House wife
dies from mysterious causes, and a short story beneath about her sudden
collapse in public. I’d ignored it – though undeniably unfortunate, it was likely
just a fluke of our frail bodies; an unavoidable element of the human
condition.
On
the third day I noticed a similar story; this time about a trio of students who
had died suddenly, with no discernible cause, over the course of just a few
hours. They had lived together, according to the article, but otherwise were
utterly different; one a chemist in training, another just beginning on the
path to becoming a solicitor, the third an itinerant performer. Their deaths
were blamed on the overuse of narcotics so common to students, but it seemed
just too coincidental for my liking. I resolved to follow the case as it
developed.
By the sixth day,
there were half a dozen more cases – singularly or in small, closely linked
groups. The media was claiming it to be a new, unidentified virus, and was
advising citizens to wear filter-masks in public, and to avoid unnecessary
outings. It seemed too unlikely for me though, and I resolved to actively
pursue it – at least until a more important case materialised. The most recent
death had been in a public square, Davenplaz, a short distance from the hotel;
well within walking distance if it weren’t for the dismal weather.
Saturday, 17 October 2015
LATE! Also fluff...
I DID NOT FORGET WHICH DAY IT IS! EVERYTHING IS FINE!
... Yep. Ten past eleven and only now do I realise that, being Saturday, I owe you all a post... well, balls. I am not a clever man.
Would you like some fluff? I've done a little painting - makes a change, right? - but I haven't finished, and you know I loathe sharing WIP shots... especially considering the lighting at the moment is terrible...
... nope, I got nothing. Just started X-Wing (which is fun), and just bought a Decimator for it (which is huge), but after just 2 games with models I don't really have any intention of using... I'm probably not in the best position to tell you about it... and, sadly, I think the next time I'll get a chance to play will be saturday night, so no chance there either... damn.
Look, I'm gonna be honest with you - it's been a bad week. I've been moping around a lot, and have basically zero-motivation to get anything done. The only reason I managed to work myself out of that stupor today is because I visited a friend... it's times like these I realise how much I need company. In case you can't tell, I am an introvert by nature, but... well, this is not the sorta situation wherein you want a lot time to think about how your life is going...
... Wow, depressing. Sorry bout that... tell you what, in the interest of motivating myself, here's something I've been working on - on and off again - for a couple years... hopefully, it'll give me the motivation to actually finish it. It's essentially a short story about an Imperial Inquisitor getting sidetracked - I'm mostly done, but I've left it too many times for my liking. Hopefully, with an audience, I'll actually get it done...
Anyway, I'll try and post once or twice a month - I'll have to work it out based on how big the chunks are. If I post a page or so a month, it'll take too long, but if I share a few every fortnight it probably won't make it to christmas...
... Short story; I meant that. Bout ten-thirteen pages, give or take.
Anyway, hope you enjoy, and sorry again for the lateness.
Volodanti out.
... Yep. Ten past eleven and only now do I realise that, being Saturday, I owe you all a post... well, balls. I am not a clever man.
Would you like some fluff? I've done a little painting - makes a change, right? - but I haven't finished, and you know I loathe sharing WIP shots... especially considering the lighting at the moment is terrible...
... nope, I got nothing. Just started X-Wing (which is fun), and just bought a Decimator for it (which is huge), but after just 2 games with models I don't really have any intention of using... I'm probably not in the best position to tell you about it... and, sadly, I think the next time I'll get a chance to play will be saturday night, so no chance there either... damn.
Look, I'm gonna be honest with you - it's been a bad week. I've been moping around a lot, and have basically zero-motivation to get anything done. The only reason I managed to work myself out of that stupor today is because I visited a friend... it's times like these I realise how much I need company. In case you can't tell, I am an introvert by nature, but... well, this is not the sorta situation wherein you want a lot time to think about how your life is going...
... Wow, depressing. Sorry bout that... tell you what, in the interest of motivating myself, here's something I've been working on - on and off again - for a couple years... hopefully, it'll give me the motivation to actually finish it. It's essentially a short story about an Imperial Inquisitor getting sidetracked - I'm mostly done, but I've left it too many times for my liking. Hopefully, with an audience, I'll actually get it done...
Anyway, I'll try and post once or twice a month - I'll have to work it out based on how big the chunks are. If I post a page or so a month, it'll take too long, but if I share a few every fortnight it probably won't make it to christmas...
... Short story; I meant that. Bout ten-thirteen pages, give or take.
Anyway, hope you enjoy, and sorry again for the lateness.
Volodanti out.
Masks
have always interested me.
Both
the literal and figurative. I suppose the former came from my upbringing; by
fifteen, I was a Juve in the Cowled Dragons - one of the thousands of
gangs that warred within the tumbling warrens of Obidum Primaris. We wore
stylized masks outside of our base; we thought it would intimidate the other
gangs, and help us avoid identification by authorities. A good idea badly
executed, as the officers always knew where to go when a masked criminal was
around.
I
remember mine - my first mask. It was grey and yellow; crude lightning bolts
for tears and an arrow across my mouth even after I left the hives behind, I
kept it as a memento. I wore it until my twenty fifth year; when it was
shredded by a flail that almost took my life.
But
masks are not merely physical; they are something we all wear constantly. They
hide our face, our personality; our soul. We have a dozen or more that we use
daily; one when we are with family, one for friends, one for work, one for
lovers, and one for enemies. The only time we ever truly take the masks are is
when we are alone.
And
then we see, what; if anything lies beneath.
I
have, on occasion, been treated with the sight of a man switching between
masks; sometimes even seen them caught, like a grox in a searchlight, mentally
searching for the one they need. It is one of the benefits of my line of work.
But,
ultimately, there is one mask more dark and dangerous than any other; that of a
loyal citizen. For, those who truly are loyal do not wear a mask; that is one
of the few truths consistent throughout their many identities. But a one who
does wear that mask, there is but one word to describe them.
Heretic.
There
are threats, I am sure, more destructive, or more powerful, or even more
far-reaching. But none as insidious as the Traitor. An Ork cannot blend into
society, a Tyranid may not slowly poison the soul of whichever city they inhabit
with lies and false promises, an Eldar will not turn an entire world against
itself.
A
Heretic can. And, if at all possible, they will.
And
that is why we exist. To safeguard the destiny of mankind, to protect it from
what would seek to do it harm, even if it be itself. To destroy the enemy
within, without and beyond. To separate the guilty from the innocent; as a
shepherd divides the sheep from the goats. It is our sacred duty, and one which
I shall happily give my life to perform, but one I fear could one day take my
soul. For I stand as a member of the most feared and hated element of the
Imperium, and know neither rest, nor mercy.
For
we are the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition, and we are judgement
incarnate.
I
have the honour to name myself as Inquisitor Cucullatus Peregrinus, Ordos Non,
of Sub-Sector Retellus, Triuvres Sector, Ultima Segmentum.
So how do I describe myself? I am fifty seven
years standard, but would pass for a man in his mid-thirties. I am tall; but
not unusually so. I do not tower over the masses, but I look down into
someone's eyes more than up. My shoulders are broad, but my waist narrow. I am
fit, certainly, my muscles pronounced but not exaggerated. My neck is long, as
is my face. I have something of a pronounced brow; my eyes brown and recessed
from years beneath a helmet. A thin mouth, flat nose, and high cheekbones. My
hair is sandy and cut short, an inch at most, while my face is clean shaven.
But I think this is enough distraction from the matter at hand.
Saturday, 10 October 2015
Screw you KhaDORANs!
... That was a pun for a friend. He knows who he is.
Anyway, back from the tournament, and guess what - I made the podium! Or I would've, were there a podium, and had we not damn near overrun the timeslot. Lunch took 40 minutes longer than it was supposed to, since basically everyone went to the KFC across the street...
... But that doesn't matter. Cos I placed third! Out of 12, yes, but still. Now, I'd like to claim it's due to some clever tactics, a well planned and researched army, and a cool head under pressure... but that'd be an utter lie. I lucked out - we were doing random teammates, and mine always seemed to be incredibly good. The first placed second, and the rest did pretty well besides.
Frankly, my placing was the greatest injustice since the French Empire.
But, enough of that - y'all wanna know how it went, don't you? Well, I brought pictures, so lets get started.
Game One
pHaley and Rask versus eBorka and eZerkova
A good start to the day - teamed up with a lovely fella who was bringing the new Croak Raiders... who are ridiculously good. We deployed and went first, using the woods (the green felt) and house to funnel the opposition into my stormblades whilst the Raiders ran interference...
...or, such was the plan. Didn't quite work out like that. Instead, we basically hammered on the Trolls whilst the Warbeasts held the left flank. By the end of turn two, Borka had lost his heavy, frenzied his light and was preparing for a charge from my Stormguard... In the end, Deathclock won us the game, since we were down on Control points. Still - a good game all told.
Game Two
pButcher and pHaley versus Damiano and pKreoss
Another game won on the Deathclock, inspite of a ridiculously potent combination. A pure Steelhead list hits horrendously, and is a real nightmare to kill. We went first, but they got the alpha strike, their mangler managing to erase most of my stormguard whilst the feat-enhanced cavalry crippled a Juggernaut and wrecked a Berserker. After that it was just a matter of holding the line, and gradually we managed to attrition them down, even if it was incredibly costly.
As I mentioned, we won on Deathclock, but it was close. We had only thirty seconds left when theirs ran out. Unfortunately, I skipped a turn that I thought was unnecessary, else we would've drawn on control points... So, whilst quick thinking is a useful trait, I oughta remember to take a moment every now and then to look at the table.
Game Three
Damiano and pHaley versus eBorka and Durgen
This was not a happy game. When I sat down to find myself facing a Colossal on one side, and Trolls on the other, I knew I was in trouble. My list was not meant for cracking armour, so Dwarves and Trolls were basically my worst nightmare... still, I had the Steelheads on my team, and I'd just seen how potent they could be...
So, how'd it go? Not that well. Turn two, I noticed that Durgen had left himself exposed to my Lancer, and what was more expended all his focus. A lucky turn here could kill his caster and the colossal, essentially winning me the game! So, I moved up, ducking Haley behind the wall and unleashed a fusillade of arcane bolts... dealing 5 damage. And then Durgen feated and killed her easily. Crap.
After that, it was a bit of damage mitigation. The Stormguard charged in, and with the help of the Steelheads managed to scrap the Earthbreaker, only to fall prey to Durgen's Ground Zero spell... Still, we managed to take him own next turn, and finished of Thor Steinhammer besides. On the other flank, the bulk of the Stealheads had made mincemeat of the Trolls, and only Borka remained active. Not something I particularly wanted to face, true, but he couldn't be everywhere, and a failed assassination attempt meant that we won on control points. A first for me!
Post Game Musings
So, what'd I learn from this. A couple things actually.
1. Control Points are worth it. Even if they aren't necessarily gonna win you the game, go for them. I would've come second if I'd put in just a little more effort to claim them, especially since the stormsmith was basically ignored throughout.
2. You are a team, not two armies. As I said beforehand, an army is a lot stronger than the sum of it's parts, and that goes double for allies. The second game was by far the hardest, and that is because they combined their forces to help each other, rather than operate as two independent units. The only reason we made it through the last game was because my ally saw me stalling, and redeployed his forces to support me, something I owe him innumerable thanks for... and the first game went so well for us almost wholly due to merging our forces.
3. Think during your opponent's turn; act during your own. In such a short time limit, you can't afford to wait until your turn to plan your next move. Watch what is happening, and sketch out a plan as events unfold. A quick 'you do this, I do that' when you hand out control is all you need in the way of discussion, and don't second-guess yourself. You will make mistakes, that is a given, but this is a game about handling your mistakes, and provided you power through on them, you can still pull a win; whether by exploiting your opponent's gaffs, or else just watching them time themselves out.
... So, yeah - end of the day, I had a great time. Everyone was canny, and the format really made the matches unique and interesting. And, cherry on top, I am now the best player in Team Wansbeck.
Suck it Sean.
Volodanti out.
Anyway, back from the tournament, and guess what - I made the podium! Or I would've, were there a podium, and had we not damn near overrun the timeslot. Lunch took 40 minutes longer than it was supposed to, since basically everyone went to the KFC across the street...
... But that doesn't matter. Cos I placed third! Out of 12, yes, but still. Now, I'd like to claim it's due to some clever tactics, a well planned and researched army, and a cool head under pressure... but that'd be an utter lie. I lucked out - we were doing random teammates, and mine always seemed to be incredibly good. The first placed second, and the rest did pretty well besides.
Frankly, my placing was the greatest injustice since the French Empire.
But, enough of that - y'all wanna know how it went, don't you? Well, I brought pictures, so lets get started.
Game OnepHaley and Rask versus eBorka and eZerkova
A good start to the day - teamed up with a lovely fella who was bringing the new Croak Raiders... who are ridiculously good. We deployed and went first, using the woods (the green felt) and house to funnel the opposition into my stormblades whilst the Raiders ran interference...
...or, such was the plan. Didn't quite work out like that. Instead, we basically hammered on the Trolls whilst the Warbeasts held the left flank. By the end of turn two, Borka had lost his heavy, frenzied his light and was preparing for a charge from my Stormguard... In the end, Deathclock won us the game, since we were down on Control points. Still - a good game all told.
Game Two
pButcher and pHaley versus Damiano and pKreossAnother game won on the Deathclock, inspite of a ridiculously potent combination. A pure Steelhead list hits horrendously, and is a real nightmare to kill. We went first, but they got the alpha strike, their mangler managing to erase most of my stormguard whilst the feat-enhanced cavalry crippled a Juggernaut and wrecked a Berserker. After that it was just a matter of holding the line, and gradually we managed to attrition them down, even if it was incredibly costly.
As I mentioned, we won on Deathclock, but it was close. We had only thirty seconds left when theirs ran out. Unfortunately, I skipped a turn that I thought was unnecessary, else we would've drawn on control points... So, whilst quick thinking is a useful trait, I oughta remember to take a moment every now and then to look at the table.Game Three
Damiano and pHaley versus eBorka and Durgen
This was not a happy game. When I sat down to find myself facing a Colossal on one side, and Trolls on the other, I knew I was in trouble. My list was not meant for cracking armour, so Dwarves and Trolls were basically my worst nightmare... still, I had the Steelheads on my team, and I'd just seen how potent they could be...
So, how'd it go? Not that well. Turn two, I noticed that Durgen had left himself exposed to my Lancer, and what was more expended all his focus. A lucky turn here could kill his caster and the colossal, essentially winning me the game! So, I moved up, ducking Haley behind the wall and unleashed a fusillade of arcane bolts... dealing 5 damage. And then Durgen feated and killed her easily. Crap.
After that, it was a bit of damage mitigation. The Stormguard charged in, and with the help of the Steelheads managed to scrap the Earthbreaker, only to fall prey to Durgen's Ground Zero spell... Still, we managed to take him own next turn, and finished of Thor Steinhammer besides. On the other flank, the bulk of the Stealheads had made mincemeat of the Trolls, and only Borka remained active. Not something I particularly wanted to face, true, but he couldn't be everywhere, and a failed assassination attempt meant that we won on control points. A first for me!Post Game Musings
So, what'd I learn from this. A couple things actually.
1. Control Points are worth it. Even if they aren't necessarily gonna win you the game, go for them. I would've come second if I'd put in just a little more effort to claim them, especially since the stormsmith was basically ignored throughout.
2. You are a team, not two armies. As I said beforehand, an army is a lot stronger than the sum of it's parts, and that goes double for allies. The second game was by far the hardest, and that is because they combined their forces to help each other, rather than operate as two independent units. The only reason we made it through the last game was because my ally saw me stalling, and redeployed his forces to support me, something I owe him innumerable thanks for... and the first game went so well for us almost wholly due to merging our forces.
3. Think during your opponent's turn; act during your own. In such a short time limit, you can't afford to wait until your turn to plan your next move. Watch what is happening, and sketch out a plan as events unfold. A quick 'you do this, I do that' when you hand out control is all you need in the way of discussion, and don't second-guess yourself. You will make mistakes, that is a given, but this is a game about handling your mistakes, and provided you power through on them, you can still pull a win; whether by exploiting your opponent's gaffs, or else just watching them time themselves out.
... So, yeah - end of the day, I had a great time. Everyone was canny, and the format really made the matches unique and interesting. And, cherry on top, I am now the best player in Team Wansbeck.
Suck it Sean.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 3 October 2015
Pre-Tourney Prep
So, once again, I fear that I must disappoint you. I've nothing prepared. Which is due in no small part to having lost my Harley Quinn model, which I had almost finished (seriously, just another hour and it would've been presentable), but mostly due to the title.
That's right, another tournament.
Back to Stockton for a 15 point random-doubles WARMAHORDES tournament. There'll be four of us from our group going, so chances are I'll at least end up on the same table as one of my friends... if only it were the same side. I certainly don't wanna go up again the eKreoss cheese list (pop feat, launch daughters - 15 damage without rolling), even if I have done pretty well against it...
So, yes - I've spent my little free time getting myself ready to take this tournament, and not bring bag a participation award this time.
Seriously, I came 15th out of 16 at the starter-box tournament...
It's a bit of an unorthodox list I'm taking - very infantry heavy, with not all that much in the way of heavy-hitters. Haley with Squire and Lancer, max Stormguard, a Stormtower and -caller... which, I won't lie, my friends have all fervently argued against. With good reason - I'm quite heavily dependent on my partner to take on the heavy armour...
... but, as I see it, a) the meta tends towards massed infantry over a couple big-boys, and b) Haley's win condition is mind-bullets, or getting an alpha-strike with the 'guard. Realistically, if I don't manage to make my feat-turn work out, it doesn't much matter whether I have something capable of one-shotting a Man-o-War or not.
... plus, I've found that the best way to win in a 2v2 is to actually work together... and, if I have to rely on my partner, I'm much more likely to integrate our tactics. Sure, I'll be a bit of a crutch at times, but I think in the long-run it's better to be a good partner than a good solo.
... Or, that's what I tell myself when I want to sleep anyway.
So, yes. Sorry today is just a bit of random musings, but... that is the blog's title. And, in anycase, next week I'll have the after-action report. So, that's fun.
As ever, thank you for reading. I hope to see you next week, and wish me luck.
Volodanti, out.
That's right, another tournament.
Back to Stockton for a 15 point random-doubles WARMAHORDES tournament. There'll be four of us from our group going, so chances are I'll at least end up on the same table as one of my friends... if only it were the same side. I certainly don't wanna go up again the eKreoss cheese list (pop feat, launch daughters - 15 damage without rolling), even if I have done pretty well against it...
So, yes - I've spent my little free time getting myself ready to take this tournament, and not bring bag a participation award this time.
Seriously, I came 15th out of 16 at the starter-box tournament...
It's a bit of an unorthodox list I'm taking - very infantry heavy, with not all that much in the way of heavy-hitters. Haley with Squire and Lancer, max Stormguard, a Stormtower and -caller... which, I won't lie, my friends have all fervently argued against. With good reason - I'm quite heavily dependent on my partner to take on the heavy armour...
... but, as I see it, a) the meta tends towards massed infantry over a couple big-boys, and b) Haley's win condition is mind-bullets, or getting an alpha-strike with the 'guard. Realistically, if I don't manage to make my feat-turn work out, it doesn't much matter whether I have something capable of one-shotting a Man-o-War or not.
... plus, I've found that the best way to win in a 2v2 is to actually work together... and, if I have to rely on my partner, I'm much more likely to integrate our tactics. Sure, I'll be a bit of a crutch at times, but I think in the long-run it's better to be a good partner than a good solo.
... Or, that's what I tell myself when I want to sleep anyway.
So, yes. Sorry today is just a bit of random musings, but... that is the blog's title. And, in anycase, next week I'll have the after-action report. So, that's fun.
As ever, thank you for reading. I hope to see you next week, and wish me luck.
Volodanti, out.
Saturday, 26 September 2015
Zetum - Part Deux
Hello again, and how're you? Good? Good. I am tired, but that's irrelevant. Shall we? Great.
So, picking up from last week, we were discussing my Alpha Legionnaire's personality... or lack thereof. Well, now that we have a history, we can start to figure out what he is really like, can't we? Well, I hope s anyway.
So, right - quick recap; for my benefit mostly. Recruited just before Istvaan, deployed before the Siege of Terra, joined Epsilus following Eskrador, and has served under him since.
So... what's he like then?
Stoic, I imagine is a word frequently used to describe him. In fluff, he's often accused of being boring - although, this does come from a Slaaneshi Night Lord - and he certainly places completing the mission before any other concerns... Not exactly 'Chaotic' then, I'll admit, but I'd always thought of my army as Traitor Legions rather than Chaos Marines.
No, I think that he's goal-orientated not because he's dull, but because he hasn't lost sight of the point of the Long War. At the onset, the Legions turned on the Emperor for their own reasons, but it was ultimately because they felt him unworthy of his throne. They did not want to tear down the Imperium, merely change the leadership. And I feel that Zetum has remembered this where others have been distracted with petty revenge.
... and as a side note, I am not even touching the Cabal. I'm gonna make the assumption that Zetum was not trusted with that knowledge, and whether Alpharius-Omegon truly turned or not is ultimately academic.
So, right, Zetum - he's world weary. He's fought the people he once served for tens of thousands of years, even if for him it's only been a few centuries.
Few Centuries. 40k fluff does weird things to you, huh?
Anyways, getting back, personal motivations - beyond dethroning the Emperor. Why does he follow Epsilus, given that he's more interested in killing daemons than making a throne-shaped hole in the Imperial Palace? I think, ultimately, it's a combination of things. He likely fought alongside Epsilus for decades before he started his vendetta, so a lot of it might just be shared respect. Then, of course because he is comfortable in his role - third in command, with very few responsibilities - whilst he might have to start from scratch if he were to move. And, of course, I think the biggest thing is that, as a whole, the Legion is not a cohesive whole anymore. It can be, sure, but only briefly. At the moment, various warlords are busy running about pursuing their own vendettas (usually against Ultramarines), or trying to carve out an empire for themselves - or, worst, pledging themselves to the dark gods.
And, so, if his choice is someone who is mostly doing his job - barring the occasional unnecessary diversion - or an unknown element, Zetum has much to lose and very little to gain.
... actually, all of this reminds me. I never have actually said how Zetum feels about the gods... Which is probably a mistake. I didn't imagine for a second that he agreed with Epsilus, but still... lets have a think.
Well, I honestly reckon that it's something along the lines of the standard Iron/Night/Alpha approach. They're there. They're powerful. If you ask for help, you might get some, or you might get spawn'd. Either way you lose your soul. Best to keep 'em happy but avoid their attention.
So, pretty ambivalent then? Sure. I reckon that he might offer lip service to Tzeentch, but at the end of the day he'd prefer that the gods leave him to sort stuff for himself.
... Is this enough then? I think so... I mean, I have no interest in defining everything about Zetum - if for no other reason than it'd just turn into a long list of bullet-points. Plus, the thing about 40k is that it's so intriguing because there're so many mysteries. And whenever they answer one of them, the magic fades just a little... So, I think I will leave it here. Cos I have enough to go on now, but not so much that I can't add stuff in later.
And I reckon that's just about the right amount. Though, I do love improv...
Anyway - thanks again for reading. I hope you've enjoyed yourselves.
Volodanti out.
So, picking up from last week, we were discussing my Alpha Legionnaire's personality... or lack thereof. Well, now that we have a history, we can start to figure out what he is really like, can't we? Well, I hope s anyway.
So, right - quick recap; for my benefit mostly. Recruited just before Istvaan, deployed before the Siege of Terra, joined Epsilus following Eskrador, and has served under him since.
So... what's he like then?
Stoic, I imagine is a word frequently used to describe him. In fluff, he's often accused of being boring - although, this does come from a Slaaneshi Night Lord - and he certainly places completing the mission before any other concerns... Not exactly 'Chaotic' then, I'll admit, but I'd always thought of my army as Traitor Legions rather than Chaos Marines.
No, I think that he's goal-orientated not because he's dull, but because he hasn't lost sight of the point of the Long War. At the onset, the Legions turned on the Emperor for their own reasons, but it was ultimately because they felt him unworthy of his throne. They did not want to tear down the Imperium, merely change the leadership. And I feel that Zetum has remembered this where others have been distracted with petty revenge.
... and as a side note, I am not even touching the Cabal. I'm gonna make the assumption that Zetum was not trusted with that knowledge, and whether Alpharius-Omegon truly turned or not is ultimately academic.
So, right, Zetum - he's world weary. He's fought the people he once served for tens of thousands of years, even if for him it's only been a few centuries.
Few Centuries. 40k fluff does weird things to you, huh?
Anyways, getting back, personal motivations - beyond dethroning the Emperor. Why does he follow Epsilus, given that he's more interested in killing daemons than making a throne-shaped hole in the Imperial Palace? I think, ultimately, it's a combination of things. He likely fought alongside Epsilus for decades before he started his vendetta, so a lot of it might just be shared respect. Then, of course because he is comfortable in his role - third in command, with very few responsibilities - whilst he might have to start from scratch if he were to move. And, of course, I think the biggest thing is that, as a whole, the Legion is not a cohesive whole anymore. It can be, sure, but only briefly. At the moment, various warlords are busy running about pursuing their own vendettas (usually against Ultramarines), or trying to carve out an empire for themselves - or, worst, pledging themselves to the dark gods.
And, so, if his choice is someone who is mostly doing his job - barring the occasional unnecessary diversion - or an unknown element, Zetum has much to lose and very little to gain.
... actually, all of this reminds me. I never have actually said how Zetum feels about the gods... Which is probably a mistake. I didn't imagine for a second that he agreed with Epsilus, but still... lets have a think.
Well, I honestly reckon that it's something along the lines of the standard Iron/Night/Alpha approach. They're there. They're powerful. If you ask for help, you might get some, or you might get spawn'd. Either way you lose your soul. Best to keep 'em happy but avoid their attention.
So, pretty ambivalent then? Sure. I reckon that he might offer lip service to Tzeentch, but at the end of the day he'd prefer that the gods leave him to sort stuff for himself.
... Is this enough then? I think so... I mean, I have no interest in defining everything about Zetum - if for no other reason than it'd just turn into a long list of bullet-points. Plus, the thing about 40k is that it's so intriguing because there're so many mysteries. And whenever they answer one of them, the magic fades just a little... So, I think I will leave it here. Cos I have enough to go on now, but not so much that I can't add stuff in later.
And I reckon that's just about the right amount. Though, I do love improv...
Anyway - thanks again for reading. I hope you've enjoyed yourselves.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 19 September 2015
Oops
So... bit embarrassing... I don't actually have anything much to write about again... yes, I know I promised to have something special for y'all, but... it's been a super-busy week. I did an eight-day stint at work, and spent all my free time making a website for my friend's theatre company, so I've not really had the time to paint... and, in case you're curious, I'm spending today and tomorrow in Hull visiting a friend... I mean, technically I could film a game of M:TG and quickly post it this evening, but, I fear it'd be a poor video without audio, and a poor game with, since my main strategy is to tell bad jokes until my opponents make mistakes...
... I do have several projects going, as ever, but none of them are quite worth bragging about. three settings; one basically abandoned, one hardly past the map-drawing section, and the last still in arguments with my conspirators... Bronze Age Clockpunk seems playable to you, doesn't it? C'mon, you can be honest with me.
... Well, I liked it...
But, yes... unfortunately I don't have all that much to discuss... So, I suppose I could do something a bit different.
I'll make up a personality for an old character.
Now, this sounds weird, I know... so let me give you some backstory.
Back in 2011 I, like many of you, bought Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine... and I freaking loved that game. Still do. I'd play it regularly if I had room to plug my PS3 in. And, as many of you may remember, a lot of the fun in multiplayer was the customise-able armour... which, yes, I realise every game in the past half-decade or more has done... but no real 40k fan cares. This, this is what we'd all been waiting for. A chance to play as your homebrew chapter first person - and even in a personalised suit! It was perfect... Well, mostly - bionic arm was super ugly.
but, back to the point, my friend - The Unjust - named his main avatar, a Night Lord he took to calling Vaako, and after that he started coming up with a backstory for him; once a White Scar, turned during the Siege of Terra, later forced to paint his hands crimson for a crime against his company, avoids bikes for fear of falling to Slaanesh... actually a very interesting character...
... and I had Zetum. Who you may remember hearing about every now and then... but the difference is that I never exactly characterised him. He was in stories, sure... but he was always kinda a stoic. And whilst it was nice as a foil to Vaako's excesses, I never really was happy with him. I've just always put off doing anything about it, because he was a bit character... but now I've been writing about him more and more, so... perhaps I should finally take the time. And since I'm on this train for another hour, I suppose I will.
So, Zetum... to start, I suppose that I should have a history for him... I'd always seen him as fighting in the Heresy, but never in the Great Crusade. So, let's assume that he was recruited in the waning years of the Crusade, after the Emperor retired to Terra, but his first deployment was after the Drop Site Massacre.
So, there we have a man loyal to his legion, and the Primarch he may once have fought alongside, but never to the Imperium proper. Likely he'd have been raised to tails of the disrespect from peers, and his first interaction with another legion would be on the far side of the battlefield. So, we're starting to get a better sense for him.
Now, next, how did he end up with Epsilus? The easy answer would be that he served alongside or under him during the heresy - I have made reference to Epsilus being a sergeant at the time... but I think that a bit easy. No, I think it more likely that Zetum was in a different company - if such a thing existed - and instead met him after the Battle of Terra. Perhaps, in fact, they met following Alpharius' "death". No, I like that - in the rapid reorganization, he found himself in Epsilus' unit, and returned to home base - wherever that was - content with his placement. And then, however long after when Epsilus divorced himself from the Legion proper, he felt invested enough that he followed his commander into "exile".
... actually, I think that I'll leave it here. Partially cos I reckon this'd work better in two parts, but mostly cos I'm running out of rail.
Once again, thank you for joining me this week, and I really do hope you've enjoyed it.
Volodanti out.
... I do have several projects going, as ever, but none of them are quite worth bragging about. three settings; one basically abandoned, one hardly past the map-drawing section, and the last still in arguments with my conspirators... Bronze Age Clockpunk seems playable to you, doesn't it? C'mon, you can be honest with me.
... Well, I liked it...
But, yes... unfortunately I don't have all that much to discuss... So, I suppose I could do something a bit different.
I'll make up a personality for an old character.
Now, this sounds weird, I know... so let me give you some backstory.
Back in 2011 I, like many of you, bought Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine... and I freaking loved that game. Still do. I'd play it regularly if I had room to plug my PS3 in. And, as many of you may remember, a lot of the fun in multiplayer was the customise-able armour... which, yes, I realise every game in the past half-decade or more has done... but no real 40k fan cares. This, this is what we'd all been waiting for. A chance to play as your homebrew chapter first person - and even in a personalised suit! It was perfect... Well, mostly - bionic arm was super ugly.
but, back to the point, my friend - The Unjust - named his main avatar, a Night Lord he took to calling Vaako, and after that he started coming up with a backstory for him; once a White Scar, turned during the Siege of Terra, later forced to paint his hands crimson for a crime against his company, avoids bikes for fear of falling to Slaanesh... actually a very interesting character...
... and I had Zetum. Who you may remember hearing about every now and then... but the difference is that I never exactly characterised him. He was in stories, sure... but he was always kinda a stoic. And whilst it was nice as a foil to Vaako's excesses, I never really was happy with him. I've just always put off doing anything about it, because he was a bit character... but now I've been writing about him more and more, so... perhaps I should finally take the time. And since I'm on this train for another hour, I suppose I will.
So, Zetum... to start, I suppose that I should have a history for him... I'd always seen him as fighting in the Heresy, but never in the Great Crusade. So, let's assume that he was recruited in the waning years of the Crusade, after the Emperor retired to Terra, but his first deployment was after the Drop Site Massacre.
So, there we have a man loyal to his legion, and the Primarch he may once have fought alongside, but never to the Imperium proper. Likely he'd have been raised to tails of the disrespect from peers, and his first interaction with another legion would be on the far side of the battlefield. So, we're starting to get a better sense for him.
Now, next, how did he end up with Epsilus? The easy answer would be that he served alongside or under him during the heresy - I have made reference to Epsilus being a sergeant at the time... but I think that a bit easy. No, I think it more likely that Zetum was in a different company - if such a thing existed - and instead met him after the Battle of Terra. Perhaps, in fact, they met following Alpharius' "death". No, I like that - in the rapid reorganization, he found himself in Epsilus' unit, and returned to home base - wherever that was - content with his placement. And then, however long after when Epsilus divorced himself from the Legion proper, he felt invested enough that he followed his commander into "exile".
... actually, I think that I'll leave it here. Partially cos I reckon this'd work better in two parts, but mostly cos I'm running out of rail.
Once again, thank you for joining me this week, and I really do hope you've enjoyed it.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 12 September 2015
Lightning Bolt... That cost me 25 cents.
So, just a quick one today... Cos I am shattered, and haven't done much. I got in a few games of magic, made a new silly-deck (which works surprisingly well) and traded for the parts to make a black-white warrior deck.
Yeah, I'm just a year and a half behind the curve now. Go me.
But, the main thing I've realised is that, my friends, I have been living a lie. You see, all this time, I have fought hard for the power of blue - calm, reactive, and so powerful when used correctly. But, I have moved past that falsehood, found my true calling, and realised the truth:
Dash is straight broken.
No, seriously - I was 4 games in with a mono-red deck before my opponent managed a to even touch my life total. And that is honestly not okay.
Bet yes, I have moved over to mono-red. And, to be honest... I'm really enjoying it. Don't get me wrong, a blue deck is still fun, in that I get to really annoy my friends, and there's nothing quite like unleashing a 12/10 green creature... but, at the end of the day, why do that when you can just set them on fire?
As has been said many a time; some men just want to watch the world burn. And I am some men.
No, but, seriously, I am really starting to get into M:TG, and I am gonna do my best to convince others to join up. You should too - you don't need that pesky money anyway, do you?
Thought not.
Anyway, sadly that is about it - I'm still sorting out my life at the moment, and working overtime to cover holidays. But, I'm on holiday next week, so I ought to have a chance to finish off a model I've been working on for a while now. I rather hope you like it - I certainly like what I have so far.
Anyway, have a great week, and thanks again for reading.
Volodanti out.
Yeah, I'm just a year and a half behind the curve now. Go me.
But, the main thing I've realised is that, my friends, I have been living a lie. You see, all this time, I have fought hard for the power of blue - calm, reactive, and so powerful when used correctly. But, I have moved past that falsehood, found my true calling, and realised the truth:
Dash is straight broken.
No, seriously - I was 4 games in with a mono-red deck before my opponent managed a to even touch my life total. And that is honestly not okay.
Bet yes, I have moved over to mono-red. And, to be honest... I'm really enjoying it. Don't get me wrong, a blue deck is still fun, in that I get to really annoy my friends, and there's nothing quite like unleashing a 12/10 green creature... but, at the end of the day, why do that when you can just set them on fire?
As has been said many a time; some men just want to watch the world burn. And I am some men.
No, but, seriously, I am really starting to get into M:TG, and I am gonna do my best to convince others to join up. You should too - you don't need that pesky money anyway, do you?
Thought not.
Anyway, sadly that is about it - I'm still sorting out my life at the moment, and working overtime to cover holidays. But, I'm on holiday next week, so I ought to have a chance to finish off a model I've been working on for a while now. I rather hope you like it - I certainly like what I have so far.
Anyway, have a great week, and thanks again for reading.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 5 September 2015
Real Talk...
... with real Andrew. Not Volodanti today, just Andrew.
... have I told you my name before? Two years of weekly posts, and I've never said my name. That's kinda embarrassing.
Anyway, today isn't about tabletop, or rpgs, or video games, or fluff, or settings, or anything like that. Today, it's a serious, and kinda depressing post. So, if you're not interested, you're welcome to skip over this week.
You see, there's a reason I went on hiatus last week. And I think it's the reason my posts have been so short recently. You see... two weeks ago, my girlfriend told me that it wasn't working. And last Thursday, she said it was over... And I should have seen it coming - we've been drifting apart for months... but it sucks. And it's left me moping around the house, sleeping in, and unable to focus on anything for more than an hour.
I'm okay, just... disappointed. Because I thought we could fight for it, and... Well, she didn't think it was worth it.
I won't get into the how's and why's, but suffice to say it's not really left me in the mood to paint, or plan or game.
... but I'm going to. Because, well... I could mope from now til Christmas, and it wouldn't make one iota of difference. That chapter of my life is over. And I need to move on.
So, next week, expect a proper post, with the normal host.
But for anyone who has stuck around to here... thank you. I do appreciate it.
--Andrew.
... have I told you my name before? Two years of weekly posts, and I've never said my name. That's kinda embarrassing.
Anyway, today isn't about tabletop, or rpgs, or video games, or fluff, or settings, or anything like that. Today, it's a serious, and kinda depressing post. So, if you're not interested, you're welcome to skip over this week.
You see, there's a reason I went on hiatus last week. And I think it's the reason my posts have been so short recently. You see... two weeks ago, my girlfriend told me that it wasn't working. And last Thursday, she said it was over... And I should have seen it coming - we've been drifting apart for months... but it sucks. And it's left me moping around the house, sleeping in, and unable to focus on anything for more than an hour.
I'm okay, just... disappointed. Because I thought we could fight for it, and... Well, she didn't think it was worth it.
I won't get into the how's and why's, but suffice to say it's not really left me in the mood to paint, or plan or game.
... but I'm going to. Because, well... I could mope from now til Christmas, and it wouldn't make one iota of difference. That chapter of my life is over. And I need to move on.
So, next week, expect a proper post, with the normal host.
But for anyone who has stuck around to here... thank you. I do appreciate it.
--Andrew.
Wednesday, 26 August 2015
Short Hiatus
Hello everyone.
Sorry to do this, but I'm going to have to take a short break from this blog. I'm going through some personal stuff right now, and probably won't be able to make this week's post. Best case scenario because I will be too busy Friday-Sunday to post anything.
Worst case, I'll be off for the next week or two.
So, this is just an apology and a heads up to everyone. I hope you'll forgive me, and I'm looking forward to seeing you all bright and early on the 5th September.
Volodanti out.
Sorry to do this, but I'm going to have to take a short break from this blog. I'm going through some personal stuff right now, and probably won't be able to make this week's post. Best case scenario because I will be too busy Friday-Sunday to post anything.
Worst case, I'll be off for the next week or two.
So, this is just an apology and a heads up to everyone. I hope you'll forgive me, and I'm looking forward to seeing you all bright and early on the 5th September.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 22 August 2015
IT'S MAGIC!
So, yes, not what I had planned for this week, but sadly my painting has been minimal, and since I'm out tonight (hence the super early post; working sucks) I won't get a chance to finish my progect quickly and show y'all... so, instead, I thought that I'd write about the thing that distracted me so much I barely painted a sword this week:
Magic: The Gathering.
Yes, sorry to all my wargaming fans - this is not necessarily the post for you. I'd probably advise you to scroll back a year or so and check out IN SPACE! - that's been a favourite in the community (such as it were) and probably more to your liking...
... To those who do care though; I have spent this week doing little but playing Magic; either around a coffee-table at my friend's, or online via Duels: Origins. Which has been getting a bad press from some of the longer running fans of the franchise - which I can understand - but for newcomers like myself it's a real boon for learning the rules and getting a grip on the workings of it.
It must be said, I've got a lot more into it this last month or so, and I'm starting to figure out some of the better combinations, and how to not suck. That being said, I'm still not good. I'm just better. And buying a deckbuilder's toolkit was one of my better decisions, seeing as it's let me branch out from my starter box (blue-green M15 for those who care).
So, what've I learnt? Well, most important thing is - pick a win condition, and build around that. The problem I was facing most was that I knew vaguely about what each colour did, but didn't know - or didn't care - how that translated to a victory. So, white did life-gain, black did removal, green did ramping, blue did counter and red... alright, lightning bolt actually works here.
But, the thing was, I did those, cos I knew that's what I was supposed to do... without considering how to win with it. The first deck that I made from scratch was a blue control deck, packed to the teeth with blockers, counter-spells, and tappers... with no idea how to win. I could prolong a game, sure, and really annoy my friends... but I could never win.
Then, I tried to make a red-blue artifact deck; Thopters All Up In Here. And it was funny, but ultimately pointless, in the way that only relying solely on 1-1 fliers to win me the game can be.
... and then I made a green rush deck, and realised the error of my ways. A couple cards to help my mana-curve, a few big creatures and the occasional pump spell and I was in business.
... At least part of this I have to attribute to Duels: Origins. That taught me a lot more about building a deck than it had an right to. But, having several games a week IRL certainly helps too...
... So, what've I made since? A Red burn deck (obviously), a white artifact deck, and a blue mill deck... which needs more mill. A lot more. But I'm learning, and I'm getting better.
And, I've just made you all read a long post about stuff you already knew. So, ha, I win!
... but seriously - anyone else who's just starting out; pick your win condition, and stick to it. Just putting in cards you like won't win you the game; make sure they're cards that have a purpose.
Cheers for reading, and wish me luck for the time ahead (three weeks short-staffed).
Volodanti out.
Magic: The Gathering.
Yes, sorry to all my wargaming fans - this is not necessarily the post for you. I'd probably advise you to scroll back a year or so and check out IN SPACE! - that's been a favourite in the community (such as it were) and probably more to your liking...
... To those who do care though; I have spent this week doing little but playing Magic; either around a coffee-table at my friend's, or online via Duels: Origins. Which has been getting a bad press from some of the longer running fans of the franchise - which I can understand - but for newcomers like myself it's a real boon for learning the rules and getting a grip on the workings of it.
It must be said, I've got a lot more into it this last month or so, and I'm starting to figure out some of the better combinations, and how to not suck. That being said, I'm still not good. I'm just better. And buying a deckbuilder's toolkit was one of my better decisions, seeing as it's let me branch out from my starter box (blue-green M15 for those who care).
So, what've I learnt? Well, most important thing is - pick a win condition, and build around that. The problem I was facing most was that I knew vaguely about what each colour did, but didn't know - or didn't care - how that translated to a victory. So, white did life-gain, black did removal, green did ramping, blue did counter and red... alright, lightning bolt actually works here.
But, the thing was, I did those, cos I knew that's what I was supposed to do... without considering how to win with it. The first deck that I made from scratch was a blue control deck, packed to the teeth with blockers, counter-spells, and tappers... with no idea how to win. I could prolong a game, sure, and really annoy my friends... but I could never win.
Then, I tried to make a red-blue artifact deck; Thopters All Up In Here. And it was funny, but ultimately pointless, in the way that only relying solely on 1-1 fliers to win me the game can be.
... and then I made a green rush deck, and realised the error of my ways. A couple cards to help my mana-curve, a few big creatures and the occasional pump spell and I was in business.
... At least part of this I have to attribute to Duels: Origins. That taught me a lot more about building a deck than it had an right to. But, having several games a week IRL certainly helps too...
... So, what've I made since? A Red burn deck (obviously), a white artifact deck, and a blue mill deck... which needs more mill. A lot more. But I'm learning, and I'm getting better.
And, I've just made you all read a long post about stuff you already knew. So, ha, I win!
... but seriously - anyone else who's just starting out; pick your win condition, and stick to it. Just putting in cards you like won't win you the game; make sure they're cards that have a purpose.
Cheers for reading, and wish me luck for the time ahead (three weeks short-staffed).
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 15 August 2015
Ave Imperator! ... Again.
Hello again, and the surprise I promised is here - my Romans! Yes, I finally caved to the pressure, and bought a Tactical Squad to make into my little fluff army... well, fluff ten-men. It was to be my swan-song to 40k, because as I said a while back, I had no intention of buying anything else from a company that thinks £50 is fair for ten assault marines.
... and then I started making them, and dear sweet Emperor, I have missed it.
I love the PP models, they have a fantastic aesthetic, and are almost a pleasure to paint... but I'm not a painter. I can paint - if nothing else, reading this blog from start to finish will show you exactly how far I've come... but, painting for me is a job. It can be fun, depending on the model, but building GW kits... I've always just loved that. And, while I'm not a good sculptor (though I am working on it), nor the best at pinning... plastic, that I can work with. And, I like to think, I am good at picking out the flow of a model, and making good poses.
But, enough tooting my own flute, lets have a look shall we?
So, here's the family - divided into two squads. I'd planned on making just one, but... I dunno, this is technically a legal army (with Pertinax), so, I kinda wanted to go for that. Plus, meant more interesting characters.
Speaking of which - here's one of them. A nice, simple sergeant, with a little greenstuff to join the two bits of crest. The back - and the one on all the grunts - I bought online, alongside everyone's gladius from a site called Anvil Industries... I'd advise you to look them up. Very good quality conversion parts.
... Actually, do you know, I'm not gonna have much to write. Perhaps once they're painted ? Yeah, that'll be worth discussing... but, for the moment, they're just greys with a bare minimum of conversion. And I'm not gonna waste your time describing why the scabbard is on this side of the model. Instead, I'll just leave you with a couple pictures, and this bombshell.
I'm gonna buy more.
Volodanti out.
... and then I started making them, and dear sweet Emperor, I have missed it.
I love the PP models, they have a fantastic aesthetic, and are almost a pleasure to paint... but I'm not a painter. I can paint - if nothing else, reading this blog from start to finish will show you exactly how far I've come... but, painting for me is a job. It can be fun, depending on the model, but building GW kits... I've always just loved that. And, while I'm not a good sculptor (though I am working on it), nor the best at pinning... plastic, that I can work with. And, I like to think, I am good at picking out the flow of a model, and making good poses.
But, enough tooting my own flute, lets have a look shall we?
So, here's the family - divided into two squads. I'd planned on making just one, but... I dunno, this is technically a legal army (with Pertinax), so, I kinda wanted to go for that. Plus, meant more interesting characters.
Speaking of which - here's one of them. A nice, simple sergeant, with a little greenstuff to join the two bits of crest. The back - and the one on all the grunts - I bought online, alongside everyone's gladius from a site called Anvil Industries... I'd advise you to look them up. Very good quality conversion parts.... Actually, do you know, I'm not gonna have much to write. Perhaps once they're painted ? Yeah, that'll be worth discussing... but, for the moment, they're just greys with a bare minimum of conversion. And I'm not gonna waste your time describing why the scabbard is on this side of the model. Instead, I'll just leave you with a couple pictures, and this bombshell.
I'm gonna buy more.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 8 August 2015
A Wee Break/Intrigue
So, the title kinda gives it away - I'm pooped. After rushing so hard to finish my Tale of More Gamers, I am decidedly lackluster about painting...
... Not modelling as it turns out, but more on that next week...
But, yeah... it's been a quiet week. My shifts have left me basically unable to get a game in, I've spent most of my free time on ESO, and well... it's nice to just sorta take a break, you know?
... Well, considering near a year and a half in I'm still getting readers, probably not. But it's a lot harder to write than to read... hence all the drivel I subject you to...yeah, sorry about that.
It's not to say I haven't done anything... I've spent a goodly part of the week assembling stuff (but spoilers...) and I just had a Deckbuilder's Toolkit delivered, which means I'm in the process of retooling my various decks (namely 'Nope', 'Thopters all up', and 'Jundemout'), but that's harder to explain, and a bad idea considering how bad I am to give out decklists to possibly impressionable newcomers... Oh, and I played Resistance again. That was fun. And, coincidentally to a lot of stuff, it got me thinking about the latter part of the title - Intrigue...
See, a while ago I mentioned that I was making rules for an Assassin's Creed RPG, which while technically true is on indefinite hiatus as I try to decide whether dice-pool, d6 or d20 would be the best way to resolve checks... investigations ongoing, but there was one part of it that I really liked. The so called Beliefs mechanic.
The idea was that, in a setting based upon people committing morally-questionable acts in order to achieve a vague utopia as part of a massive, fragmented conspiracy... sometimes your characters will start to doubt the purpose of continuing. Or, just as bad, become too invested in it, moving from devoted to fanatic to unfettered.
It was an actually decent idea. The best part I'd say, and it's actually very applicable to a variety of settings and systems. Here's the basics of it.
Each character has three Belief stats: Commitment, Loyalty, and Morality. Each is measured from 1 to 20, with 12-15 being the default. That roughly coincides to 'devoted to the cause', 'unlikely to betray without very good cause' and 'would kill if they had no alternative'. A character with 1 in them would be 'actively disagrees', 'probably already a traitor' and 'would kill if it was even vaguely helpful'. A 20 though is equally bad; 'sees heresy everywhere', 'everyone is a traitor', and 'would return stolen goods'.
Alright, now here's where it gets complicated - see, the players themselves don't actually have access to these stats; if they ask, they only get vague replies. So, 'devoted', 'a bit unsure', 'rather cruel' - stuff like that. And they have to intuit how to act from that.
So, how does it change? Well, anytime something happens that could change a stat - whether they do it, or it is something beyond their control - they have to make a Belief check. So, to give an example - lets say someone with Morality 13 lets a prisoner go when it would be better to kill them. That would qualify as something that could change their Morality. They roll a d20, and compare it to their Morality score - if it is higher, they gain 1 morality. If it is equal or lower, nothing happens. This works the reverse too; someone with Loyalty 11 is abandoned when they needs help. They'd roll a dice, and on a 10-or-less they drop to Loyalty 10. An event can, obviously change more than one stat, meaning multiple rolls.
... So, what effect does this have in gameplay? Not a great deal. It's more to provoke better roleplaying, as people act out how they think their character would behave... but it does have one major impact. If any stat hits 1 or 20, the character is retired. Whether they abandon the team, are forced out, or just move on due to an insurmountable gulf, their player has to make a new character... Harsh, yes, but realistically, how long would you stay with someone who constantly accused you of being a traitor? Or moaned whenever you got into a fight? Maybe give the player a little warning before they push themselves too far...
... Or don't. If someone imagines that's what they'd do, who are you to argue? Just let them act out their insanity, and see how it ends up. You could make the ruling that if they roll the opposite to removal they get reset - the character realises the error of their ways, and vows to avoid such extremes in future... so, someone with Morality 2 has just killed an innocent because it was expedient. They roll a dice, and it is a 20! And suddenly, they have morality 13, and are filled with disgust at their actions.
... Yeah, I like that.
And one last thought; perhaps having one stat too high, and another too low can lead to retirement? So, Morality 3 and Commitment 18 - they are basically a sociopath, and will do whatever it takes to complete their goals. Or, Morality 17 and Commitment 4; they can no longer justify the actions of their allies, and abandon the organisation. Don't do this all the time, obviously, but when it seems appropriate... it could be an interesting pitfall for interesting characters.
Well... I quite enjoyed this actually. I have a headache, and can't wait to log off, but... I am more than pleased with that rambling explanation. I hope you understood it - kinda embarrassing otherwise - and until next time, thank you again for reading.
Volodanti out.
... Not modelling as it turns out, but more on that next week...
But, yeah... it's been a quiet week. My shifts have left me basically unable to get a game in, I've spent most of my free time on ESO, and well... it's nice to just sorta take a break, you know?
... Well, considering near a year and a half in I'm still getting readers, probably not. But it's a lot harder to write than to read... hence all the drivel I subject you to...yeah, sorry about that.
It's not to say I haven't done anything... I've spent a goodly part of the week assembling stuff (but spoilers...) and I just had a Deckbuilder's Toolkit delivered, which means I'm in the process of retooling my various decks (namely 'Nope', 'Thopters all up', and 'Jundemout'), but that's harder to explain, and a bad idea considering how bad I am to give out decklists to possibly impressionable newcomers... Oh, and I played Resistance again. That was fun. And, coincidentally to a lot of stuff, it got me thinking about the latter part of the title - Intrigue...
See, a while ago I mentioned that I was making rules for an Assassin's Creed RPG, which while technically true is on indefinite hiatus as I try to decide whether dice-pool, d6 or d20 would be the best way to resolve checks... investigations ongoing, but there was one part of it that I really liked. The so called Beliefs mechanic.
The idea was that, in a setting based upon people committing morally-questionable acts in order to achieve a vague utopia as part of a massive, fragmented conspiracy... sometimes your characters will start to doubt the purpose of continuing. Or, just as bad, become too invested in it, moving from devoted to fanatic to unfettered.
It was an actually decent idea. The best part I'd say, and it's actually very applicable to a variety of settings and systems. Here's the basics of it.
Each character has three Belief stats: Commitment, Loyalty, and Morality. Each is measured from 1 to 20, with 12-15 being the default. That roughly coincides to 'devoted to the cause', 'unlikely to betray without very good cause' and 'would kill if they had no alternative'. A character with 1 in them would be 'actively disagrees', 'probably already a traitor' and 'would kill if it was even vaguely helpful'. A 20 though is equally bad; 'sees heresy everywhere', 'everyone is a traitor', and 'would return stolen goods'.
Alright, now here's where it gets complicated - see, the players themselves don't actually have access to these stats; if they ask, they only get vague replies. So, 'devoted', 'a bit unsure', 'rather cruel' - stuff like that. And they have to intuit how to act from that.
So, how does it change? Well, anytime something happens that could change a stat - whether they do it, or it is something beyond their control - they have to make a Belief check. So, to give an example - lets say someone with Morality 13 lets a prisoner go when it would be better to kill them. That would qualify as something that could change their Morality. They roll a d20, and compare it to their Morality score - if it is higher, they gain 1 morality. If it is equal or lower, nothing happens. This works the reverse too; someone with Loyalty 11 is abandoned when they needs help. They'd roll a dice, and on a 10-or-less they drop to Loyalty 10. An event can, obviously change more than one stat, meaning multiple rolls.
... So, what effect does this have in gameplay? Not a great deal. It's more to provoke better roleplaying, as people act out how they think their character would behave... but it does have one major impact. If any stat hits 1 or 20, the character is retired. Whether they abandon the team, are forced out, or just move on due to an insurmountable gulf, their player has to make a new character... Harsh, yes, but realistically, how long would you stay with someone who constantly accused you of being a traitor? Or moaned whenever you got into a fight? Maybe give the player a little warning before they push themselves too far...
... Or don't. If someone imagines that's what they'd do, who are you to argue? Just let them act out their insanity, and see how it ends up. You could make the ruling that if they roll the opposite to removal they get reset - the character realises the error of their ways, and vows to avoid such extremes in future... so, someone with Morality 2 has just killed an innocent because it was expedient. They roll a dice, and it is a 20! And suddenly, they have morality 13, and are filled with disgust at their actions.
... Yeah, I like that.
And one last thought; perhaps having one stat too high, and another too low can lead to retirement? So, Morality 3 and Commitment 18 - they are basically a sociopath, and will do whatever it takes to complete their goals. Or, Morality 17 and Commitment 4; they can no longer justify the actions of their allies, and abandon the organisation. Don't do this all the time, obviously, but when it seems appropriate... it could be an interesting pitfall for interesting characters.
Well... I quite enjoyed this actually. I have a headache, and can't wait to log off, but... I am more than pleased with that rambling explanation. I hope you understood it - kinda embarrassing otherwise - and until next time, thank you again for reading.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 1 August 2015
The Lightning Stikes
... for a last time. Hey y'all, it's finally that time. I've finished my pledge, and fully painted a 35 point Cygnaran army. And while yes, I would have liked more time to put a bit more effort into the details, or touch up a problem that I missed first time round... I'm happy with it. First time in a while I've had a goodly sized army painted to a decent standard. Not since... well, just before I restarted this blog, when I got 2000 points of Dark Angels painted...
... Wow, that feels like a long time ago.
But, no, happy times now y'all, cos I can share my finished work with you.
I'm not gonna say a lot - partially cos I only just finished and need to get ready for work, but mostly cos I want to let the pictures speak for themselves... even if they are a bit blurry.
So, lets start off - the group shot!
... That sure is a lot of blue. And a little red besides. Not much to say, so moving on.
Here's the battlegoup(s). Nemo, a squire and our old favourite - Rutger Caster... just wanted to celebrate him being tournament legal.
... Plus, he helps Nemo quite considerably, has a good buff for the Stormguard, and most importantly covered for my laziness by being already done.
Next - lightning!
All the Stormsmiths you can handle... well, no - there's still one stormcaller left unpainted, but I ran out of points... bad excuse, but what can you do?
Still... that is a lot of lightning strikes.
And who could forget our old friends - Thunder, Ol' Hammy and Sparky. Untouched since the first month, but that's because I am still happy with them.
Especially Hammy. One of my favourite models.
And, since I mentioned them ages ago - the Stormguard. These're kinda the weakspot in my army - the bases aren't textured, and I never got round to repainting the sergeant... but, they're pretty and carry even more lightning. So, happy times.
And just to finish off - some Rangers. Long time in coming - I started them back when I was building a Kraye army... but surprisingly they work. They fit nicely into the army, and their colours even match up.
And, most importantly, they make my artillery less terrible.
So, yes... 35 points. Four months of work, procrastination, and late nights furiously painting for a deadline. Four damn good months.
... I hope I never paint blue again.
Anyway, sorry for the brevity, and thank you all for reading. I hope you're doing well, and look forward to seeing you again next week.
Volodanti out.
... Wow, that feels like a long time ago.
But, no, happy times now y'all, cos I can share my finished work with you.
I'm not gonna say a lot - partially cos I only just finished and need to get ready for work, but mostly cos I want to let the pictures speak for themselves... even if they are a bit blurry.
So, lets start off - the group shot!
... That sure is a lot of blue. And a little red besides. Not much to say, so moving on.
Here's the battlegoup(s). Nemo, a squire and our old favourite - Rutger Caster... just wanted to celebrate him being tournament legal.
... Plus, he helps Nemo quite considerably, has a good buff for the Stormguard, and most importantly covered for my laziness by being already done.
Next - lightning!All the Stormsmiths you can handle... well, no - there's still one stormcaller left unpainted, but I ran out of points... bad excuse, but what can you do?
Still... that is a lot of lightning strikes.
And who could forget our old friends - Thunder, Ol' Hammy and Sparky. Untouched since the first month, but that's because I am still happy with them.Especially Hammy. One of my favourite models.
And, since I mentioned them ages ago - the Stormguard. These're kinda the weakspot in my army - the bases aren't textured, and I never got round to repainting the sergeant... but, they're pretty and carry even more lightning. So, happy times.
And just to finish off - some Rangers. Long time in coming - I started them back when I was building a Kraye army... but surprisingly they work. They fit nicely into the army, and their colours even match up.And, most importantly, they make my artillery less terrible.
So, yes... 35 points. Four months of work, procrastination, and late nights furiously painting for a deadline. Four damn good months.
... I hope I never paint blue again.
Anyway, sorry for the brevity, and thank you all for reading. I hope you're doing well, and look forward to seeing you again next week.
Volodanti out.
Saturday, 25 July 2015
Grayden-ography
Heya there readers. Bit of an apology first - I know I promised a new picture of Major Grayden, but with the rush to finish everything for my Tale of More Gamers, I've not had the chance to work on him...
... also, I opened a full box of magic boosters on Thursday, which was not necessarily a good idea...
But, anyway, I did promise you fluff, and on that I will deliver. So, without further ado; the history of Major Joshua Grayden.
... also, I opened a full box of magic boosters on Thursday, which was not necessarily a good idea...
But, anyway, I did promise you fluff, and on that I will deliver. So, without further ado; the history of Major Joshua Grayden.
Major Joshua Grayden, has served as a veteran ranger for over two decades. In this time he has served almost exclusively with the Second Army, and his cloth-wrapped form is a well-known sight amongst those soldiers who patrol along the Black River. He knows Cygnar's eastern border better than almost any man alive, and far more of the Protecorate's than anyone born outside the Theocracy. Though recent years have changed his modus operandi from reconnaissance to raids, he applies the same will and techniques to the protection of his homeland.
Born in 575 AR to relatively humble beginnings, Grayden's talent was discovered early, and he was sent to the Strategic Academy at the age of fifteen. There he was trained in the arts of battle-magic, tactics, and personal combat. At the age of eighteen he was apprenticed to Captain Kraye, who further schooled him in the finer points of reconnaissance, teaching him that sometimes a light touch could overcome a heavy hand.
Though they parted on good terms, Kraye's later resignation over the execution of his uncle left a gulf that never quite closed. Grayden may not have agreed with then king Vinter, but to his mind it was the way of kings to rule and others to follow.
Perhaps this is why he found himself a scout in the Second Army. When the Lion's Coup commenced Grayden was deep in Protectorate territory, and he did not discover the events until several weeks after the fact. Though he never spoke out against King Leto, nor rose up as did Magnus, he never really hid his opinion on the matter.
Resigned to eternal border patrol, Grayden turned his exile into a calling. Infiltrating deep into Protectorate-held lands for sometimes months at a time, he learned to thrive in the desert, attracting the attention of a Idrian Tribe. Though initially hostile, Grayden slowly earned their trust, and later respect. Though both knew that the relationship between the Heirarch and the King was swiftly souring, they spent much time working together - Grayden hunting alongside their trackers in exchange for snippets of information. In his time with them, he earned the nickname Haddi, which means 'Sand-Strider' in their tongue.
Sadly, of course, this could not last, and when Voyle launched his Great Crusade the Captain was forced to put aside his friendships and fight back against the theocracy's military. taking advantage of the slow, clumsiness of their initial 'jacks, Grayden hamstrung columns, raided supply lines, and sabotaged factories. Though he was not involved in either the fight for Caspia or Sul, Grayden instead put all his effort into drawing valuable reinforcements from the front, putting himself into increasingly dangerous positions in order to entice the Protectorate to launch a counter-assault. Eventually, they obliged, trapping him against the banks of the Black River, where Grayden was forced to abandon his battlegroup and swim for the safety of the western shore. Grayden only returned to Caspia after the end of the conflict, having spent near a month alone and hunted by Protectorate irregulars. For his actions he was raised to a Major, but he remained a footnote on the war as a whole.
Grayden is a stern man - unflinching in the fulfillment of his duties and unsympathetic to the difficulties of those under his command. While this earns him few friends, at the least he has the respect - for whilst he asks a great deal from his men, he has shown time and again that he asks no more than he offers himself. If he is harsh, it is because war cares not for niceties. If he is cruel, it is because battle is infinitely crueler, and the sooner others realise it the less chance they have of getting someone killed. Still, it leaves him a lonely life, and the sacrifices he has made sometimes weigh heavily.
The heaviest weight for Grayden though, is the weight of religion. Although he grew up in the predominantly Morrowan Midlunds, Grayden converted to worship of the Creator around the turn of the century. Years spent alongside pious Idrians led him to this decision, and it is one he hides with a passion. While he is loyal to his nation first, and does not follow the call of the Sul-Menites, he doubts his superiors would feel the same, and worries that such a discovery would be the final straw in his career, leading to a forced retirement at best.
... Yeah, I like this. Mostly written on the spot, but it follows what I wanted. Didn't find a way to describe his equipment without it being incongruous, but you can't have everything.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading that. And I look forward to sharing my last month of ToMG for you in a week. But for now, I am tired. Thank you all for reading.
Volodanti out.
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