Reference notes, oddities, and various backstory things.
The Concept
I wanted to run a Buffy or Angel role playing game. They
wanted to play hack-and-slash fantasy. So, in my typical genre-bending
style, we've launched Things That Go Hack & Slash In the Night
- a Buffy-style game in a fantasy setting. To help keep some of
the Buffy "feel", I've adopted the same episodic structure I was using
with Young Children and Elder Gods, and I'm keeping a web page
(though a bit more sophisticated that YC&EG). We're using the
mechanics of D20 D&D, but I've simplified as many things as humanly
possible - and tried to take as much of the logistics out of it.
For example, I'm not horribly interested in "Well, the bard sang two
rounds ago, and I have a +1 sword, and it's the third round of combat,
and I cast True Strike and...". Whatever. Neither am I
interested in "I swing. I got a 27. Did I hit it? I
do 3 points of damage. Next round." I'm much more interested in having fun and doing so in a cinematic RPG. Ideally, it'd go a lot more like this:
"I rolled a 15 as I bring my sword up into its side."
"Ooooh, the
blade slips off its scales. As it turns and snarls at you,
there's a sinking feeling as you realize who's facing its claws next."
So. Fudge the rolls and adjustments, go with what "feels" right, and have fun. And so we are.
The World
This is not your father's Greyhawk. Or, for that matter, anybody's.
I have a real problem with players knowing more about the campaign
world than myself - and quite frankly, many of my players know a lot
more about Greyhawk, Forgotten Realms, or (for that matter) Sunnydale
than I do. So I won't run them. This is a brand-new world
(but how it fits into prior games... well, I haven't decided yet).
To keep magic from dominating things, this is a low magic world, where
primarily priests wield any kind of magic. Herbalist "witches"
are barely tolerated - and that's when one is sick. See "On Dragons" below to get a sense as to the why of this attitude.
Lirius is a relatively isolated town, about three days' travel from anywhere.
Borders on unexplored mountains to the north. There's no real apparent reason
for founding a town here - sure, there's mining and trapping, but not very much to
justify the investment that has been made here. Water is produced
by a small spring that seems to go down forever. There's just enough farms to *maybe* keep everyone fed. The Mayor
has a garrison solely under his command that serves as the town
watch.
Once again, I'm going with Latin-ish names for aristocracy (and some
clergy). But I'm also (somewhat subtly) going with class
distinctions with NPC names too; merchant class is denoted by
Italian names, and working class by Hispanic names. Traditionally
"white" names (Goth, German, Welsh) are being reserved for not-nice
things. Last names are
*extremely* rare outside of the aristocracy; by and large, if you
need a last name it's the "son of" or "profession" variety (e.g. Bob
Smithson or Jane Carpenter).
On Dragons
It has been one thousand years since the Age of Dragons ended. It
has been one thousand years since the end of the Age of Magic. It
has been thirty three years since the last dragonkin, Fullia, was hung,
lynched for a drop of dragon blood running in her human veins.
Dragons meant majick. Majestic, impossible creatures; thier
arrival into our world heralded the arrival of the arcane and mystic
forces of majick. There were relations between the races, and the
dragonkin arose as the blood of dragons mixed with the blood of men. It
was a time of prosperity, a time of peace.
Until Byfar, terrible in his copper glory, arrived in our world.
There are still those who claim Byfar used no majick to achieve his
goals, that the greed within humans and dragon alike were enough.
They claim the corrupting power of majick was enough to tempt those who
held it. It is no matter now; the damage wrought was
dire. Dragon and dragonkin alike seized power, aided by the new
human mages and sorcerers. Flames rose from cities who dared
resist thier might. Kingdoms fell, empires crumbled in civil war.
A resistance arose, led by the green dragon Ugolus and his dragonkin
bride, Inari. What was a peaceful reform movement became a
rebellion when their daughter was kidnapped, then murdered for daring
to speak out against Byfar's rule.
Blood ran for a century as the rebels were hunted, and when found, slaughtered.
One thousand years ago, on the day we celebrate as Ugola, the remaining
rebel dragons and dragonkin found themselves in dire peril.
Surrounded, outnumbered, the whole of dragonkind had gathered into the
plain, under the eerie light of the rift through which they had
entered. They had gathered to watch the slaughter of the
human-lovers Ugolus and Inari, the slaughter of those who opposed the
rule of dragons.
That night, the Lord came to Ugolus and Inari, and spoke unto them the
dire task before them. They then spoke the Lord's words unto
Sirvos Mautius, a human, and smuggled him out under a small glamour to
spread the word to the countryside.
In the morning, the dragons fell upon the rebels.
As Ugolus' lifeblood spilled unto the ground, he saw Inari complete the spell the Lord had taught, and smiled.
The way of casting of the Maw of Inari has been lost, and it is a
blessing. The cataclysm devoured the whole of dragonkind, and the
vastness of dragonkin. The plains became a pit of fused glass,
and is evidence of the last great majick in the world. The rift
is no more, gone in that final evocative fireball. Thus did
majick not of the Lord pass from this world.
Sirvos spoke the message of the Lord unto the People, and they
rejoiced, that the scourge of majick was gone from the world. But
Sirvos did enlighten them, and the People did learn to hunt and kill
the dragonkin, so that by virtue of thier dragon blood corrupt the
world.
We remember the Age of Magic on Inari's Night, as the children costume
themselves as horrors and beasts, demanding tribute from home to
home. We remember the sacrifice of Ugolus on Ugola, in our
passion plays. We remember the words of Sirvos, and remember the
thousand-year purge, that we might ever be vigilant against the
corruption that is dragon, that is majick.
It has been one thousand years since the Age of Dragons ended. It
has been one thousand years since the end of the Age of Magic. It
has been thirty three years since the last dragonkin, Fullia, was hung,
lynched for a drop of dragon blood running in her human veins.
