Petals and Thorns and Iron Fang Invasion

I recorded two games that I ran as an effort to demonstrate my professional GMing skillz. Unfortunately, that demonstration is being held back by the fact that a decade of experience with GMing is desperately struggling to make itself known through the rank amateur quality of my video editing, which I’ve been doing for, like, a month. Music is so loud you can barely hear me and my players in Iron Fang, and so quiet that you can barely hear it in Petals and Thorns, which is particularly egregious in the opening narration, which desperately needs that background music in order to give it energy. Matching narration to good music in order to keep it short and make it engaging is one of my oldest GM tricks, but with the background music barely audible this video mainly serves to demonstrate why the narration on its own isn’t enough.

I figure I may as well post them since I’ve got ’em, but I’m not satisfied.

Succubus: Pet Imp

As promised: Succubus, a LitRPG about a warlock with a sexy succubus sidekick, or something. As per usual, this is a blind readthrough and I have no idea whether it’s going to be great or rubbish.

Chapter 1

Succubus is certainly making itself easy to summarize, by giving me a quote that succinctly describes the opening conflict:

I had made it to the final round of interviews for a Quality Control position, and I desperately needed this. I had been laid off from my previous job three months ago, my bank account was getting perilously low, and I was a month late on rent.

So that’s where we are, and here’s who’s at the other end of the table:

Three mid-level managers were sitting across the table from me, looking at my résumé. A guy in glasses, a bro-tastic dude from Sales, and a woman from HR.

Jesus, you’re looking for a QA position and three managers showed up to interview you? Is this one QA position the fulcrum upon which half the company turns or are two of these people on break and just showing up for the lulz?

If you’re wondering just how “bro-tastic” we’re talking:

Sales Guy loved what I was saying. “Ian, yo – have you tried the full immersion unit yet, my man?”

Crap. I prayed my borderline poverty wasn’t going to sink my chances. “I, uh… I want to, but I could only afford the basic system. I’m saving up, though.”

“The basic is good, but you gotta try the full immersion. It is sick, dawg. Get this – you have a beer in the game? You get buzzed. You have five beers? You get drunk. I shit you not.”

That is how much. Do people like this actually end up in management in video games? It feels like something that could happen. A lot of video game companies are kind of a shitshow.

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Salvaging Cliche in The Last of Us

A while back (twenty minutes ago as of the writing, but this is scheduled to post way later) I wrote about how Ellie’s first kill in the Last of Us serves as an excellent example of taking a cliche that used to be a compelling depiction of the human experience before being driven into the ground and salvaging it, and that I could write an entire post on that subject. This is that post. Also, that scene is really compelling even on its own but is also really  frustrating to leave off on, so here’s the payoff a couple of scenes later. We aren’t talking about that second scene, I’m just posting it so that people who’ve never played the game but did just watch Ellie’s first kill aren’t left hanging.

The cliche we’re talking about is the “rookie in his first battle vomits after his first kill.” It’s a tired old cliche, and yet also a real thing that actually happens to a lot of people. It makes perfect sense to want to depict this if you have a character who kills someone for the first time onscreen (or onpage),  but we’ve seen the rote version of this a million times. It’s so well-ingrained into our consciousness that Ellie references the cliche in the scene. She knows what Joel, as the grizzled old veteran who can barely remember the last time killing a stranger upset him in the slightest, is supposed to say in these situations. There’s a script, here, and if you follow that script, the only people who will appreciate are actual fourteen year olds in post-apocalyptic war zones who’ve just killed someone for the first time in their life. This is probably not a significant portion of your target audience.

The problem with most “hero’s first kill” scenes is that they are simulacra, copies of copies with no direct connection to the original experience they are trying to convey. Even ones based on good versions of the scene, like Ellie’s, are still stumbling around blind for what parts of that scene are unique to Joel and Ellie’s character arc and what parts are a near-universal human reaction to killing another human being at close range (where “close” here is defined as “close enough to make out the specific guy you’re killing and confirm that you killed him” – how close that actually is depends as much on what kind of scope you’re looking down as on how physically proximate you are).

There are three ways that the Last of Us scene gets away from the dull and stilted simulacra. The first is by going back to the original human experience instead of relying on the tropes of fictional versions. The second is by subverting some part of the cliche version. The third and perhaps most important is that the use of the scene and its subversion are done in service to Ellie and Joel’s character arcs.

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Threadbare Is Horrible Except When It’s Great

Threadbare is done, let’s have a table of contents:

Part 1: Cheering for the Protagonist
Part 2: Magic Tea Party
Part 3: Kill Ten Rats
Part 4: Going In Circles
Part 5: That Is What Bemused Means
Part 6: Yet Another Random Encounter
Part 7: In Which Threadbare Meets An Anarcho-Capitalist Vampire
Part 8: Nosedive
Part 9: I Warned You The Novelization Of A Dungeon Crawl Would Be Boring
Part 10: Crypt of the Nekomancer
Part 11: Inciting Incident

Threadbare has a good beginning and a good ending. I’m not surprised that it hooks a lot of people with its premise of a teddy bear golem who begins barely even self-aware and ends up as a contributing member of a dungeon raiding party. A zero-to-hero progression is a big part of the draw of LitRPG, and Threadbare starts from even more zero than most protagonists, being that he’s twelve inches tall and is desperately imperiled by a house cat for his first encounter. Threadbare’s adorable mannerisms and indefatigable will to keep going make him a really charming character. I cared about him instantly. Andrew Seiple does such a good job of making me relate to this distinctly non-human character that I compared the book to Pixar, for Christ’s sake. This book has a strong start.

But it doesn’t last. Although the fight scenes remain reasonably engaging throughout and Threadbare remains a good character, the focus of the story shifts from Threadbare to Celia during chapter four, which would have been fine, except that Celia has no proactive motivation or particular goals. From chapter 4 all the way through chapter 12, things just happen to Celia. A spooky bad guy tries to trick her into doing something dumb, and Celia isn’t having it. She gets a quest, she completes it. Her new friends want to raid a dungeon, so she does. There is no character arc and no unifying plot, things just happen, one after another, for three-quarters of the book. Although the plot is engaging when it finally shows up at the end, it spends so much time getting there that there’s barely even any book left when it arrives.

Then at the end the timeline advances by so much that the current state of the setting no longer fully applies when the second book begins – Celia is (presumably) a teenager, every location we’ve been to has been burned down, and so on. As inciting incidents go, “villain burned my home town down” isn’t super original but it’s perfectly functional and the scene is mostly well-executed, and while the scene itself is pretty by-the-numbers, the time skip in the aftermath is potentially interesting if Celia has turned to the Dark Side under the bad guy’s influence since then (she was successfully kidnapped by her birth father at the end, after all). The problem is, the inciting incident of the plot was used as the climax of the first book. If Threadbare wanted to wait this long for the bad guy to get his villain on, that’s doable, and having a slow burn where characters take a long time getting established before the home town gets torched is a defensible decision. In order to make that work, though, there needs to be an actual plot preceding the “burn down the hero’s home town” beat, and we didn’t get that.

And then there’s fucking Zuula. Just, dear God. This character takes a thin stereotype of Afro-Caribbean culture with green skin, and that would’ve been kind of racist in that it casts the more-or-less American cultured protagonists as human and Afro-Caribbean culture as not human, but by itself that would’ve been something to mention in the extended review but not nearly a big enough deal to bother with in this summary. However, when that Afro-Caribbean stereotype is then combined with the standard fantasy schtick of orcs as a fundamentally violent and primitive people, things suddenly go from “kind of racist in a way that merits pointing out in an in-depth review, but not in a quick overview” to dive deep into “racist enough that it becomes a significant defining factor in the quality of the book.” Zuula being extremely racist is the reason why this post is entitled “Threadbare Is Horrible Except When It’s Great” instead of “Threadbare Is Aimless Except When It’s Great.” Zuula is a massive drag on every scene she is in.

Threadbare was originally posted serially, and after Zuula’s chapter 8 brief but comically violent introduction in front of her house covered in skull trophies, we got chapter 9, in which Zuula and her half-orc kids (or quarter-orc? I seem to recall Zuula being referred to as half-orc at some point, but later in the narrative she starts referring to herself as fully orcish – maybe I confused a reference to Mordecai’s kids for a reference to Mordecai’s wife before either had been introduced onpage) are overtly analogous to black people facing racial discrimination in the United States, and Threadbare gives us a Very Special Chapter about racism. Delivered primarily through the mouth of a racist caricature. Actually, human (and presumably white) Mordecai delivers most of the actual moralizing, and Zuula just interjects with some commentary. And even here, they only more firmly establish the presence of the “violent orc savage” fantasy trope, even as they more firmly wed that trope to Afro-Caribbean culture and history. If chapter 9 was intended as a backpedal or clarification on this story’s stance on racism, it backfired hard, mostly because even when fully clarified this story’s stance on racism is that black people are alien caricatures, but also that the Ku Klux Klan are still the bad guys for wanting to exterminate them. It’s an “at least we’re not Hitler” defense, and while it’s worth pointing out that Threadbare isn’t openly hateful towards Afro-Caribbeans, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to set the bar for minimally good portrayal of race issues in literature as high as “recognize the humanity of non-white people.”

Threadbare: Inciting Incident

Chapter 13

Mordecai has arrived at Caradon’s house. It’s a wreck from the screaming eagle attack, which was apparently a pretty thrilling battle. Crying shame it wasn’t actually depicted at all.

“I succeeded.” Caradon smiled. “I succeeded.” He pointed at a tiny black teddy bear, who waved back and showed him her cards.

Caradon seems to have gotten over that “created and immediately murdered dozens of sapient beings by accident” thing in a hurry.

Caradon is trying to convince Mordecai to help him upgrade Emmett into a greater golem. Mordecai is skeptical. It’s not clear why. If he’s worried about something going wrong with the upgrade, then the obvious thing to do is to wait until Caradon’s regenerated some blue juice so he’ll be able to intervene if things go horribly wrong. It’s not clear why Caradon wouldn’t want to do that, when he’s been hiding out here in the woods for eleven years without getting raided once. It seems unlikely that today’s the day his card will come up. On the other hand, if Mordecai is opposed to upgrading Emmett in general, then why? Wasn’t a golem army always part of the plan?

“These are our hopes and dreams, Mordecai! Moreso than we ever planned! It’s a chance, it’s our only chance, and every minute I delay is a minute that the King’s forces draw around us! Balmoran has fallen, Mordecai, and this is our only hope! This is Celia’s only hope!” Cardon’s fist hit the table.

Typo on Caradon’s name is from the text. This impassioned plea would make a much bigger difference if we had any idea what Balmoran is or what it had fallen to. The King, I guess? Isn’t he already the king of everything reachable? Was Balmoran some kind of rebel base?

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Star Wars Saga Edition: The Force

The finale of my memorial for my Star Wars campaign, this is a combination philosophical meditation upon and revised mechanics for the Force. While the previous two posts are useful for basically any Star Wars game (or, with minimal alteration, any space opera game in any setting), this post includes a very specific interpretation of the Force that I favored and which my players agreed was reasonable. The nature of the Force can be a contentious issue and this particular interpretation of it may not be well liked by all fans. It also may or may not hold up with the new canon at all.

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Threadbare: Crypt of the Nekomancer

Chapter 11

Threadbare’s been blown off a cliff and into a catacomb, in keeping with the cat pun theme of the dungeon, and the first thing I notice is that this book is good in inverse proportion to how much Celia is in it. Early on, when Celia was a secondary character and Threadbare’s developing relationship with the world around him and particularly Pulsivar drove the plot, it was good. Later, Celia became the protagonist and Threadbare a deuteragonist, even to the point of regularly jumping into Celia’s perspective without warning, and things began to drag before eventually becoming absolutely awful. Now that Celia is communicating intermittently through a long range comm skill and Threadbare is mainly figuring things out for himself, things are good again. Like, good enough that I went ahead and deleted an introductory paragraph about how I wasn’t sure I even wanted to finish Threadbare because I’m kind of stressing about some things lately and things I’d normally just laugh at are exacerbating the stress right now, and after actually reading a bit of chapter 11 I decided that no, actually, this is fine. This is actually a good book that I’m happy to read on its own merits, regardless of how many snarky blog posts I get out of it.

It took a while, and as he went, his thoughts strayed back to home. He was starting to miss the place. This was a fun adventure and all, but when they were done it would be nice to get back where he belonged. Hopefully Daddy was okay without Celia there to keep an eye on him.

This sets up a segue to Caradon back home, so clearly Anise is about to whack him or something. Hopefully Anise is not actually just going to show up to abduct/murder him, because if she does, that raises the question of why she didn’t do so earlier. She’s had access to the golem command scrolls and Celia’s been out of the house for a while. For that matter, seeing as how Anise can apparently command the king’s men as though they were her own lackeys, why doesn’t she get a patrol together and just stomp all over the raggedy men? Is being a golemancer so OP that a dozen warrior classed characters will succumb to one guy who can’t even get greater golems working right?

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GM’s Guide Video: Preface and Introduction

I’ll level with you, I’m pretty much only making video versions of this guide because I think it’ll catch a wider audience. You can get the written version in the upper right, and it’s generally the superior version. If nothing else, I’m better at writing than voice acting.

On a related note, I now offer GM services for if you want a GM, and I offer them at much lower rates than normal to help establish a reputation. As little as $5 a session right now. Details in the link.

Threadbare: I Warned You The Novelization Of A Dungeon Crawl Would Be Boring

Chapter 10

Okay. So. Celia and her new black friend are climbing up the mountain to a dungeon, where they will slaughter monsters for XP and gold while cursing the government for regulating their blood sport. For whatever reason, only the tamer kid is with Celia right now, and the others are gonna catch up later. Also, they meet a dwarf lady on the way, who I think was mentioned at some point towards the end of chapter 9 during technical difficulties.

The ankh on her steel breastplate gleamed silver, though, and Celia thought it looked familiar.

“Is that a holy symbol of Aeterna?”

No, you dumbass, it’s the symbol of the avatar of the eight virtues of Brittania. This is basic gamelore! Is Caradon even giving you an education at all in your remote, unabomber-style hideout?

Continue reading “Threadbare: I Warned You The Novelization Of A Dungeon Crawl Would Be Boring”

Up Next: Succubus

I’m starting to run out of Threadbare and in any case I am eager to get on with things, so the poll is now closed. Congratulations to that one guy who voted for Succubus. I dunno if my other half-dozen-ish followers are bots or just don’t care what comes next. I don’t actually mind if it’s the second one, but the first possibility continues to haunt me.

So once the Threadbare posts are all out, I’ll instead be posting Succubus. See you there.