I recently dug out a book for reading on the train. It is a book of shorter fictions of C. S. Lewis, called after the longest portion inside: The Dark Tower. The name is taken from the Robert Browning poem, just as with Stephen King but is rather different; drawing little inspiration from Browning. The tale is unfinished, only just saved from the bonfire. Its authenticity has been questioned; but I do not wish to explore that question here.
It is a science fiction story of a device: a 'chronoscope' that gazes through time as a telescope gazes through space. This is not the story of its invention; it is not set in a laboratory, but the rooms of a Cambridge college as the device is exhibited for the first time to the scrutiny of fellow academics - both scientists and other interested parties. It is narrated by a fictional Lewis, as one of the academics viewing the dreadful world of 'Othertime'.
This is ambiguously an alternate reality or something set in a distance future. The titular Dark Tower is either a replica or a shadowy reflection of Cambridge University Library (an imposing enough building in its own right). The residents, as it eventually emerges, are reflections in their own right - most prominently one of the research assistants: his reflection being one of the sinister, unicorn-like 'Stingingmen'. The whole thing is distinctly oppressive and otherworldly: different to Lewis's other works, almost a work of horror fiction.
It occurred to me in re-reading it that the whole thing had an air of the stories of M. R. James. James is known for his ghost stories: 'The Treasure of Abbot Thomas', 'Casting the Runes', 'Count Magnus' and 'Canon Alberic's Scrap-Book' notable among them. The Dark Tower is somewhat like them: the largely male cast; the Cambridge setting - for both being in a medieval setting and an academic one, the detached tone; the nature of the 'chronoscope' - which might almost be an enchanted mirror. The whole thing makes one think of M. R. James writing not just horror or short stories, but making a start at a science fiction novel.
Worth a look? If you enjoy Lewis already, perhaps. The sinister and nightmarish tone is perhaps slightly lurid - but is perhaps pervasive.
Sunday, 29 October 2017
Thursday, 26 October 2017
Backgrounds: A Few Thoughts and some New Ones
This started out as just a set of backgrounds; employed in the fashion offered by The 52 Pages. Which is to say, a single word - an Environment a character is familiar with, or a Profession or a field of Scholarly Study. Each category offers different sorts of advantage, though many are situational. There is not an exhaustive list of these, but enough are offered to demonstrate type.
So, in deciding how I would discuss the brief list below, a few questions had to be asked. Mainly, how diverse does one want to make the professions on offer? Does the DM offer Dragoon, Uhlan, Curaisser and Hussar - or just stick with Cavalryman? Some words do provide a clearly different application of strengths, however similar they might be (bonuses as a Legionnaire vs. bonuses as a Militiaman). Of course there will be a difference between the bonuses due to a Musketeer and a Hoplite - and the setting will bear some of the burden here. Unless one happens upon a world where the Spartans developed gunpowder. If you want to confuse everyone.
To some extent, this will rest on our own preconceptions. Sheriff will call up different images to Police Officer; just as Watchman may. Desert may conjure up the Sahara, or Australia, or the Mojave. The player must choose their own words, however much they may be guided in this.
Moreover, does each new background require an entirely new background? If it pleases a Player to be a Lictor rather than a Watchman, are you obligated to come up with a whole new set of advantages? I think not: they shall, more like, be much the same - until one comes across a certain set of situations when a Lictor might come into their own.
This should not discourage anyone from invention, however. A new set of words and ideas can push the shape of a setting and the encounters of a Campaign in interesting ways. When a Player says he has a connection to a Merchant house, it should not surprise them that a Merchant House becomes involved in the plot.
So: a few new background words, as they occurred to me:
Profession/Environment [Almost]: Borderer ...or (the oddly cool) Mosstrooper. This comes directly from the reivers of the Anglo-Scots border country - memorably detailed in the work of Sir Walter Scott and George McDonald Fraser's non-fiction outing The Steel Bonnets. The phenomenon died with the unifcation of the crowns. Though I hope that this Background could pertain to any relatively settled border between human states with a well-established relationship. This offers few Environmental benefits - except in the particular region of the border. Political geography does not always align with natural geography. Bonus might include a familiarity with rural crime, a clan network to refer to, a rough-and-ready notion of jurisdictions and horsemanship.
Profession: Signaller A military application: skilled in the use of flags, or drums, or the heliograph. The importance of communication on the battle field should be not be underestimated. Such a word might give bonuses to noticing a signal at a distance - or the patterns of that signal - or to decoding the signals of others. The possibility also exists to have Background Word: Bugler, which is much the same, but noisier.
Profession: Whitesmith Like a blacksmith, but for white metals - tin, often. More accustomed to work the metal cold and to do comparatively delicate work - rather than bashing out a horseshoe or plough. Bonuses much like another smith.
Profession: Millwright An engineer specialising in mills: working in wood and metal for the mill itself, quite possibly near a river or a millrace. Forget not a certain amount of stone working in installing a millstone. Quite nicely flavourful in a Medieval sense.
Profession: Sapper ...or Pioneer - though I have used pioneer elsewhere, and am loathe to use it again. Sapper fits the profession better, perhaps - Pioneer has too much 'Westward the Wagons' about it. Either way, it is again military. The sapper is concerned with the making and dismantling of fortifications; though the sapper is not a mason. Given that the player may not have the chance to make extensive use of a castle until domain level play, this may not matter.
So, in deciding how I would discuss the brief list below, a few questions had to be asked. Mainly, how diverse does one want to make the professions on offer? Does the DM offer Dragoon, Uhlan, Curaisser and Hussar - or just stick with Cavalryman? Some words do provide a clearly different application of strengths, however similar they might be (bonuses as a Legionnaire vs. bonuses as a Militiaman). Of course there will be a difference between the bonuses due to a Musketeer and a Hoplite - and the setting will bear some of the burden here. Unless one happens upon a world where the Spartans developed gunpowder. If you want to confuse everyone.
To some extent, this will rest on our own preconceptions. Sheriff will call up different images to Police Officer; just as Watchman may. Desert may conjure up the Sahara, or Australia, or the Mojave. The player must choose their own words, however much they may be guided in this.
Moreover, does each new background require an entirely new background? If it pleases a Player to be a Lictor rather than a Watchman, are you obligated to come up with a whole new set of advantages? I think not: they shall, more like, be much the same - until one comes across a certain set of situations when a Lictor might come into their own.
This should not discourage anyone from invention, however. A new set of words and ideas can push the shape of a setting and the encounters of a Campaign in interesting ways. When a Player says he has a connection to a Merchant house, it should not surprise them that a Merchant House becomes involved in the plot.
So: a few new background words, as they occurred to me:
Profession/Environment [Almost]: Borderer ...or (the oddly cool) Mosstrooper. This comes directly from the reivers of the Anglo-Scots border country - memorably detailed in the work of Sir Walter Scott and George McDonald Fraser's non-fiction outing The Steel Bonnets. The phenomenon died with the unifcation of the crowns. Though I hope that this Background could pertain to any relatively settled border between human states with a well-established relationship. This offers few Environmental benefits - except in the particular region of the border. Political geography does not always align with natural geography. Bonus might include a familiarity with rural crime, a clan network to refer to, a rough-and-ready notion of jurisdictions and horsemanship.
Profession: Signaller A military application: skilled in the use of flags, or drums, or the heliograph. The importance of communication on the battle field should be not be underestimated. Such a word might give bonuses to noticing a signal at a distance - or the patterns of that signal - or to decoding the signals of others. The possibility also exists to have Background Word: Bugler, which is much the same, but noisier.
Profession: Whitesmith Like a blacksmith, but for white metals - tin, often. More accustomed to work the metal cold and to do comparatively delicate work - rather than bashing out a horseshoe or plough. Bonuses much like another smith.
Profession: Millwright An engineer specialising in mills: working in wood and metal for the mill itself, quite possibly near a river or a millrace. Forget not a certain amount of stone working in installing a millstone. Quite nicely flavourful in a Medieval sense.
Profession: Sapper ...or Pioneer - though I have used pioneer elsewhere, and am loathe to use it again. Sapper fits the profession better, perhaps - Pioneer has too much 'Westward the Wagons' about it. Either way, it is again military. The sapper is concerned with the making and dismantling of fortifications; though the sapper is not a mason. Given that the player may not have the chance to make extensive use of a castle until domain level play, this may not matter.
Tuesday, 10 October 2017
Isle of the Unknown: Some Thoughts
I recently picked up Geoffrey McKinney's Isle of the Unknown on PDF. This isn't, as such, a review - better men than I have done that and at the time of release. But there are some bits I should like to draw out. Mostly in the way it offers a unique sort of tone, in terms of place and people and background.
The myths of Classical Antiquity are part of the set of images and notions from which the Isle draws. This is most obvious in the art choices; witness the cover and, below, this magic user, who might as well be Heracles.
Beyond that, there is the number of statues that dot the isle. Sculpture isn't uniquely Classical, but for all the carved bench ends or graven saints in Gothic cathedrals, the notion of capital 'S' Sculpture in Western civilisation strikes me as possessing the weight of antiquity. Not a useful attitude, perhaps, but relevant for my purposes now. Consider beyond this, the presence of magical statues in those myths: Talos, the Man of Bronze; Pygmalion and Galatea.
On the topic of one more magical statue, let us think of something more, Though it is Autumn, picture The Winter's Tale. This is not the only Shakespeare play I would cite in relation to the Isle - another, predictably enough is The Tempest (that could be Ariel on the cover)- which itself, summons up visions of Classical myth as entertainment. Beyond that, the isle seems itself something of an Arcadia, perfect for a Forest of Arden or a dream one Midsummer's Night - once you've killed all the monsters. Though there are cities and towns, they are not the focus of Isle of the Unknown. Think especially of the scented, colour-coordinated, beast-haunted magical groves.
Let us call this little sub-genre (or what have you) Shakespearian fantasy-Romance. Barring manifestations of the 'Manga Macbeth with Mutants' sort, I have encountered one real example of it elsewhere. This was a book I was given as a child called The Tempestuous Voyage of Hopewell Shakespeare, by Sophie Masson. I was perhaps a little young for it, in terms of my cultural reference pool and do not have great memories of it. But nonetheless, it grasps this proposed sub-genre like nothing else. The Author's Note cites The Tempest and Twelfth Night as inspirations, mentioning their "mixture of romance, adventure, humour, mystery, magic, melancholy, mistaken identity and metamorphosis set around a voyage and a shipwreck." Indeed, perhaps a shipwreck would be the perfect way to start an adventure on the Isle.
Apart from the influence of Classical myth and Shakespeare on the Isle of the Unknown, I would like to praise those beast-haunted groves and the magicians that dwell therein again. I have never been fond of the 'magicians in every city providing a regular service' type of setting. As approachable and ubiquitous as a family doctor. It never quite rings true, given these folk grapple with the veil and the void beyond on a regular basis - they should have more eccentricities than a faintly Donish air in what is ostensibly Fourteenth Century France.
The alternative is the warlock, desperate, corrupted and hated, trafficker with demons and fouler things; something of a cliche. The magicians of the Isle are a good change from that. They have used magic to make themselves and the world around then into a place they think desirable and are themselves distant from humanity. One of my first articles suggested a framework for this; the Isle offers it in unique fashion. Perhaps the endstate of all this is to have most Archmages imitate the climax of Sir Terry Pratchett's Sourcery. I don't insist on every magic-user above a certain level being a bucolic hermit, nor does the wizard have to be as such anti-social. But those offered by Isle of the Unknown are most welcome and are an excellent centrepiece - as the artwork clearly agrees!
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| Source: http://www.lotfp.com/store/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=146 |
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| Source: https://rhineville.deviantart.com/art/Leo-257302250 |
On the topic of one more magical statue, let us think of something more, Though it is Autumn, picture The Winter's Tale. This is not the only Shakespeare play I would cite in relation to the Isle - another, predictably enough is The Tempest (that could be Ariel on the cover)- which itself, summons up visions of Classical myth as entertainment. Beyond that, the isle seems itself something of an Arcadia, perfect for a Forest of Arden or a dream one Midsummer's Night - once you've killed all the monsters. Though there are cities and towns, they are not the focus of Isle of the Unknown. Think especially of the scented, colour-coordinated, beast-haunted magical groves.
Let us call this little sub-genre (or what have you) Shakespearian fantasy-Romance. Barring manifestations of the 'Manga Macbeth with Mutants' sort, I have encountered one real example of it elsewhere. This was a book I was given as a child called The Tempestuous Voyage of Hopewell Shakespeare, by Sophie Masson. I was perhaps a little young for it, in terms of my cultural reference pool and do not have great memories of it. But nonetheless, it grasps this proposed sub-genre like nothing else. The Author's Note cites The Tempest and Twelfth Night as inspirations, mentioning their "mixture of romance, adventure, humour, mystery, magic, melancholy, mistaken identity and metamorphosis set around a voyage and a shipwreck." Indeed, perhaps a shipwreck would be the perfect way to start an adventure on the Isle.
Apart from the influence of Classical myth and Shakespeare on the Isle of the Unknown, I would like to praise those beast-haunted groves and the magicians that dwell therein again. I have never been fond of the 'magicians in every city providing a regular service' type of setting. As approachable and ubiquitous as a family doctor. It never quite rings true, given these folk grapple with the veil and the void beyond on a regular basis - they should have more eccentricities than a faintly Donish air in what is ostensibly Fourteenth Century France.
The alternative is the warlock, desperate, corrupted and hated, trafficker with demons and fouler things; something of a cliche. The magicians of the Isle are a good change from that. They have used magic to make themselves and the world around then into a place they think desirable and are themselves distant from humanity. One of my first articles suggested a framework for this; the Isle offers it in unique fashion. Perhaps the endstate of all this is to have most Archmages imitate the climax of Sir Terry Pratchett's Sourcery. I don't insist on every magic-user above a certain level being a bucolic hermit, nor does the wizard have to be as such anti-social. But those offered by Isle of the Unknown are most welcome and are an excellent centrepiece - as the artwork clearly agrees!
 |
| Source: https://rhineville.deviantart.com/art/Virgo-276367220 |
Saturday, 7 October 2017
The Compleat Angler - on the Tabletop
My reading often informs my writing here, but often my reading is relatively focused: historical works - with a focus on areas I know very little about - , Speculative Fiction of various kinds and the Classics of Western literature. So, why pick up a book on fishing? Pure whim; and its historical nature.
By Izaak Walton in the Early 17th Century (don't confuse with Isaac Watts, Late 17th-18th Century hymnist [O God, Our help in ages past...]), The Compleat Angler is literally, a rather thorough guide to fishing on the rivers of England, with suitable reference to fishing on the wider continent.
I eat fish, but I am not an angler. Whatever notions I have of fishing are through literature or observation. So there was some quiet interest in a book that sets forth the aspects of "Why fish?" and "How fish?" or indeed, "What is fishing like?". Walton certainly answers these questions via an ongoing dialogue between Piscator and Venator, an angler and hunter - the hunter being swiftly persuaded to give angling a try (at first, they walk with a Auceps, a falconer - but he swiftly vanishes, much like the popularity of falconry).
Why bring up this little treatise? Well, first - a digression. I make no claims for pedagogical expertise, but it strikes me that reading the non-fiction literature of other ages is an important thing to do as a student of the humanities; or indeed, as any type of learner. How did other ages discuss real-world, immediately applicable subjects - rather than the abstractions of theology, philosophy and literature? Why did they do so? This is for reasons quite apart from "Look at this Medieval monk! Look what he thinks a tiger looks like! Aha!". This might not be an as such harmful form of humour, but it is worth remembering that sooner or later we are all Medieval monks.
Why else? Well, the way it treats fish and the hunting thereof. Some of you may have seen this interview of late over on False Machine. Those lines at the very end about physical descriptions and the way in which society has changed seem most relevant. (To digress once again, I have a fondness for the old colour-coded Penguin Classics editions with illustrative roundels rather than the photographic representations that came in later - also fallen to the photograph).
Further, there is a discussion about the fish themselves and how to catch them that is, perhaps, relevant for anyone composing a bestiary for gaming purposes. The fish have habits, favoured spots, favoured seasons. They are known by affectionate names ("The tench, the physician of fishes..."). We are told the fashion in which to cook them (most revealing for 16th Century appetites). The use of bait is most interesting: the messy ways in which it may be found or prepared: it seems the angler had better not be too squeamish: "but if you are not too nice to foul your Fingers, (which good anglers seldom are) ten take this bait...".
Bait might be an interesting reflection of lock-picking and the whole bag of tricks given to the Rogue or Thief as a character class. It could be offered to Rangers or Poachers - being, if you will, the rural equivalent of Rogues and Thieves - as an option and subject to similar skill checks as picking a lock and effected by wise purchases in the same fashion as thieves' tools. Though personal training and dedicated cultivation of certain substances seems like it would play a greater role in making bait ("As it turns out, minced goblin livers mixed with coarse oatmeal makes great bait for manitcores...").
Perhaps the notion of fishing, reaching down into a separate element, with different types of beast is the most intriguing. This is hardly a new notion: ask yourself how many times the sea has been used as a seat of mysteries. But reading so much about the business of angling in Walton - spending so much time considering the best ways to fish - rather does bring it home.
By Izaak Walton in the Early 17th Century (don't confuse with Isaac Watts, Late 17th-18th Century hymnist [O God, Our help in ages past...]), The Compleat Angler is literally, a rather thorough guide to fishing on the rivers of England, with suitable reference to fishing on the wider continent.
I eat fish, but I am not an angler. Whatever notions I have of fishing are through literature or observation. So there was some quiet interest in a book that sets forth the aspects of "Why fish?" and "How fish?" or indeed, "What is fishing like?". Walton certainly answers these questions via an ongoing dialogue between Piscator and Venator, an angler and hunter - the hunter being swiftly persuaded to give angling a try (at first, they walk with a Auceps, a falconer - but he swiftly vanishes, much like the popularity of falconry).
Why bring up this little treatise? Well, first - a digression. I make no claims for pedagogical expertise, but it strikes me that reading the non-fiction literature of other ages is an important thing to do as a student of the humanities; or indeed, as any type of learner. How did other ages discuss real-world, immediately applicable subjects - rather than the abstractions of theology, philosophy and literature? Why did they do so? This is for reasons quite apart from "Look at this Medieval monk! Look what he thinks a tiger looks like! Aha!". This might not be an as such harmful form of humour, but it is worth remembering that sooner or later we are all Medieval monks.
Why else? Well, the way it treats fish and the hunting thereof. Some of you may have seen this interview of late over on False Machine. Those lines at the very end about physical descriptions and the way in which society has changed seem most relevant. (To digress once again, I have a fondness for the old colour-coded Penguin Classics editions with illustrative roundels rather than the photographic representations that came in later - also fallen to the photograph).
Further, there is a discussion about the fish themselves and how to catch them that is, perhaps, relevant for anyone composing a bestiary for gaming purposes. The fish have habits, favoured spots, favoured seasons. They are known by affectionate names ("The tench, the physician of fishes..."). We are told the fashion in which to cook them (most revealing for 16th Century appetites). The use of bait is most interesting: the messy ways in which it may be found or prepared: it seems the angler had better not be too squeamish: "but if you are not too nice to foul your Fingers, (which good anglers seldom are) ten take this bait...".
Bait might be an interesting reflection of lock-picking and the whole bag of tricks given to the Rogue or Thief as a character class. It could be offered to Rangers or Poachers - being, if you will, the rural equivalent of Rogues and Thieves - as an option and subject to similar skill checks as picking a lock and effected by wise purchases in the same fashion as thieves' tools. Though personal training and dedicated cultivation of certain substances seems like it would play a greater role in making bait ("As it turns out, minced goblin livers mixed with coarse oatmeal makes great bait for manitcores...").
Perhaps the notion of fishing, reaching down into a separate element, with different types of beast is the most intriguing. This is hardly a new notion: ask yourself how many times the sea has been used as a seat of mysteries. But reading so much about the business of angling in Walton - spending so much time considering the best ways to fish - rather does bring it home.
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