The Northern Reserve: A Punth Hexcrawl

Setting

The land of the unbelievers, the fallen. A great desert, with who knows what lurking beyond. Where ten crusades have faltered. The Land of Punth.

South of the great mountains, south of the border provinces of the Empire lies Punth.  The tribes of the deep desert co-exist with the Ziggurat-Cities along the river, all under the eye of their alien lords.

Who are these strange folk? From where did they come?

Many centuries ago, the land called Punth was like any other human realm – but it was under, and had been for many years, the rule of a Sorcerer-King and his cabal.  Not content with wielding power over the bodies of men, he extended his grip to their minds. He held absolute sway over them for decades.

Then the sky fell on his head. Either by the final collapse of his power, or divine intervention, or cosmic coincidence a vessel of shining metal sundered his tower, his flesh and his spirit – though the vessel itself was cracked utterly in so doing. The crew of the vessel called themselves the Qryth; beings of another world. They are somewhat humanoid, typically ten feet in height, generally having greenish skins and four arms, stronger than those of men.

These Qryth found themselves stranded, with slim chance of rescue. Fortuitously, they found themselves in a largely agreeable climate; further, they had just decapitated a potentially hostile power. However, the trauma to Punth levelled by not just a crashing star-ship but also the shattering of a mind-control network was acute. The Qryth, out of both benevolence and self-interest wished to rebuild Punth. Being the only sapient creatures capable of meaningful volition and action in Punth, they naturally took on leadership roles.

In order to give instruction to the people of Punth, they created the Codes. A vast canon of instruction, teaching, law and thought. The only means of communication after the arrival for the Qryth would be in quotation from these Codes. Among the Punth, this is the case still. It would be many years – at least a generation - before the Qryth met with the folk of other lands and realised their error in the introduction of the Codes. When they did so, they elected to maintain them for the sake of the psyche of Punth and their own security on a strange world.

The humans that dwell in Punth are of two sorts then: dwellers in fixed communities, that communicate solely in the Codes. The higher one’s education or status, the more of the code is known. For a city to be a city, it must have a centre with the entirety of the Codes, alongside a school for their teaching and a dwelling for a Qryth overlord. The Qryth are not as such tyrants. But to shake the influence of the ‘Sky Princes’ influence is nigh on-impossible.

The other humans are the nomads, the outcasts. Shaken from the pillars of society by the envoys or missionaries of other lands, they speak freely. They call themselves the Ka-Punth, the ‘true’ Punth. Such stories as they have of the fall of the Sorcerer-King are decidedly garbled. It is rumoured that some fraction of his spirit, or that of one of his disciples, still moves amongst the tribes offering magical knowledge and inspiring revolt. They accept the de facto dominance of the Qryth – who in their turn do not spend great quantities of blood and treasure in pursuing them.

As for the Qryth themselves, they might live longer than men, but all the first generation have died long ago, as have their offspring and children’s offspring. Their energy-throwers, landscape engines and thinking devices have decayed beyond practical or frequent use. They have detailed records, but these rarely illuminating.

The neighbours of Punth are not friendly to the Qryth. This may be due to a garbled account of the fall of the Sorcerer-King conflating him and the Qryth, or a religious impulse based on free will, or the alien nature of the Qryth. An understanding of the Codes and the influence they have on the Punth makes sympathy for them limited.

The Reserve

This is a place chosen for its resemblance to the Qryth homeworld and is designated as a place for their cultural heritage. As such, humans are kept out. Ancient arts and the careful use of magic have recreated a number of chimera resembling the species of the Qryth homeworld; kept for the pleasure and education of the Qryth. This was, if not necessarily a violent species, one that dwelt on a planet with many competitors. Moreover, the values of their starship crews tended to valour, fortitude and strength - and were not averse to hunting and fighting. This is no perfect reconstruction of the homeworld, nor of its practices, nor its mores.

Nevertheless, the Qryth do not wish for the land they rule to be devastated by the beasts they hunt. Barriers both physical and magical bound the reserve, keeping the beasts in. The Qryth are not fond of magic or magicians – who must, perforce, often operate outside the Codes. They are kept carefully guarded.

The Reserve lies close to the mountains that divide Punth and the lands of the Nirvanite. Its position is far from the main passes or the Western Seaboard. It has limited strategic value. Two similar reserves exist in the land of Punth.

Made using Hexographer. Hexes are three miles wide.

00.10 A Camp of Ka-Punth have gathered here. They have spotted the fires of the Dwarven expedition at 01.05 and would welcome an introduction and/or interpretation. They would value the Dwarves as a trading partnership or an ally against the Qryth.

01.05 Dwarves from the Dividing Mountains have come down into Punth, making a periodic Reconnaissance into the hilly hinterlands.  Their presence would not be appreciated by the Qryth. Their maps are out of date, but would only trust other Dwarven maps – not that any information you might offer would be valueless.

02.00 A Dwarven tunnel and the ‘beachhead’ for the Dwarves in 01.05 It is guarded, but the guards are few, trusting to secrecy more than numbers. They are still less than hospitable.

02.14 A camp of Ka-Punth, unaware of the Dwarves and merely hoping to do some business in the town at 17.13. They would not appreciate the trouble the Ka-Punth at 00.10 might stir up.

05.08 Outside the reserve on the south-west edge is a shrine. This is a retreat for the most faithful servants of the Qryth, so that they can be close to their masters. They are strictly prohibited from going within, but are offered sumptuous views of the reserve. The priests, functionaries and lordlings within are devoted to the Qryth; though might pay heavily to infiltrate the reserve. The site is well-guarded; the Qryth may visit them if they deem it fitting. If you could retrieve the shrine’s copy of the Codes, this would be immensely valuable in moving among the Punth unseen. Many foreign powers would deeply appreciate such a copy.

06.06 A Qryth monument. It is used in a few rituals; one day in twenty it might be visited by a Qryth elder and two juniors; one day in a hundred it might be visited by thirty Qryth of various ages.

06.07 The central territory of a pack of monstrous Qryth fanglizards.

06.09 The central territory of a herd of Qryth behemoth-beasts.

07.08 A Qryth monument. It is used more frequently than that in 06.06. Nearly every day at noon, a few Qryth are seen there. Once a month, it is possible to see several Qryth holding a vigil over several days around it, seated on red rock dolmens around the monument.

08.05 The central territory of a herd of Qryth dire-kine.

08.07 Atop a thick column of rock is the hunting lodge of the Qryth. It has something of a barbaric splendour, full of rooms built for non-human proportions and tastes. It is filled with not only dwellings and hunting trophies, but also Qryth records and reading-rooms as well as artwork by the Qryth for the Qryth – much of it made in studios in the lodge. It is heavily walled to prevent the beasts of the reserve attacking but on the north side a culvert might offer a way in. The three roads merge into one before entering the main gate.

08.10 Rough ground makes this a fine ingress point to the reserve.

09.07 A group of Qryth pachyderms make their home here.

09.10 This is the main access point to the reserve from across Punth. The gates are guarded and the garrison that patrols them and much of the reserve edge resides here. Beside them in 10.10 and 10.11 is an oasis and herds of cattle that are used to feed the beasts of the reserve.

10.05 This fort is used to house the apprentice magicians that maintain the bounds of the reserve. They are guarded very well and have little fondness for their guards or, necessarily, the Qryth. If they are removed from their duties (by whatever means) the magical bounds will dwindle in 1d4 weeks. The Qryth are averse to checking the bounds themselves; the whole point of the reserve is to forget their human subjects. However, the lack of magicians will be discovered in 1d3 weeks. If the bounds do fail, the beats within will find ways over or around the walls in at least a week and a half.

10.09 A group of Qryth drakes have their homes here.

10.10 The oasis here sustains the cattle in 10.11.

10.11 Pens corral the cattle for the reserve here. The beasts inside prey on one another, but it is considered preferable that they do not wipe one anther out and so prey-species are introduced and patches of vegetation cultivated. If the supply of cattle or feed was destroyed or stopped, it would take some weeks before the animal population began to drop.

12.14 A watering hole marks the turn off from the highway to the reserve. It is a good meeting point for traders.

17.00 Another Dwarven tunnel emerges here; the miners would be glad of company.

17.13 A Punth town is here, complete with a ziggurat - the equivalent, perhaps of an English Cathedral town. Being so close to the border, it is well fortified. Being so close to the reserve, there are plenty of Qryth present. Not necessarily populous, but important. If you could retrieve the town’s copy of the Codes, this would be immensely valuable in moving among the Punth unseen. Many foreign powers would deeply appreciate such a copy.

18.08 A Punth village is up the river here from 17.13. It lacks any Qryth presence. The hetman, with his own unique take on the Codes, maintains a quiet smuggling trade with the Ka-Punth and the Dwarves.

Making use of this: real world and literary comparisons

I have described Punth and the inspiration behind it elsewhere; the gist is Tharks +Ancient Astronauts + Ziggurats + Tower Of Babel [Cf. Snow Crash?] + Ascian Language [Book of the New Sun, Loyal to the Group of Seventeen]  - though the Ka-Punth have something of the Fremen.

Pithily, Babel meets Barsoom, on the sands of Arrakis. Find a desert environment rule set that works for you.

Punth itself is vaguely Mesopotamian, though costume and set dressing is probably more Arabic than Assyrian – though without a direct Islamic equivalent or pastiche. Punth has changed in terms of technology from the Bronze Age equivalent levels that the Sorcerer-King would have had at his command, even if some features of that time (ziggurats) have been maintained by the Qryth.  There is something vaguely reminiscent of the Maoist Cultural Revolution in the Codes. You may choose to reflect this in the character of the more fanatical Punth.

The stats of the Qryth beasties are up to you. The names are broadly drawn, but the beasts themselves ought to be deliberately alien to players. Players are assumed to be coming into Punth; if they have a familiarity with it, it is likely only to be as a Ka-Punth who has wandered far from home.  

No-one in universe could really say where the Qryth are from, or how they got here. (Same goes for the Sorcerer-King – who could easily be a Sorcerer-Queen, or a cabal of mages). Their story shouldn’t lean too heavily on the Chariots of the Gods. It should be a surprise when a Qryth elder tries to use a laser pistol for the first time on the players!

It may be valuable drawing on L.E.Modesitt Jr.’s Saga of Recluce for inspiration – especially the Cyador books. The tale of shipwrecked folk building a civilisation in a strange and hostile place (and exactly what this means for their neighbours and descendants) is interesting. The Qryth are unlikely to be religious in the same fashion as their neighbours, if at all. This extends to the Punth, even in a world of clerical magic.

[First time I've made something like this; it may be amended or revised in time. Comment appreciated.]

These are the Jokes

In writing that last post, it was brought to my attention that reference to comedy and humour is a part of world-building - possibly a neglected one. Or at least a useful tool in service of world-building.

The most obvious usage of this is in the exposition from Out of the Silent Planet just before the final act. The Sorns 'seldom got beyond irony'. The Hrossa are extravagant and fanciful. Of course, it would be a trifle on the nose to have all members of a given race of culture have uniform senses of humour.

Another prominent usage of this is by Gene Wolfe in The Castle of the Otter - The Castle of the Otter being essays, articles and the like on Wolfe's magnum opus The Book of the New Sun (if you are looking for it, find it in Castle of Days). This differs from Lewis by A) being about the sense of humour possessed by a selection of individuals - individuals largely from the same culture, but across a variety of positions within it - and B) by having actual jokes in it; one for each  of the fifteens character. The article is actually called 'These are the Jokes' and is a super little piece of fiction in it's own right, revealing elements of the people on display and the world they dwell in.

Little snapshots of life are presented by this; what are the norms of this society, the exterior elements to it; what do people feel they can laugh at. Wolfe does it very nicely - some of the jokes are even funny, and if The Book of the New Sun is lacking anything, it may be humour.

Does this mean that your characters have to be constantly making puns, or going on flights of fancy, or making cutting personal remarks? No, never constantly. But having a good notion of what would make them laugh, or what the world around them thinks will make them laugh - that is something else.

Malacandra Trio

Springing off my Pfifltriggi post a few months or so ago, I thought it only right to offer templates for the other sapient races of Malacandra - once again in the form of The 52 Pages. From the top:

***

The Sorn (Pl.  variously Seroni or Sorns) is  more or less humanoid - but far taller than any man, 'two or three times the height'. Further, despite the sorn's height it is spindly and 'top heavily pouted in the chest' with a drooping nose and mouth. Indeed, when Ransom encounters one tête-à-tête for the first time the face is unnervingly close to possessing human features, though soon 'the ideas of "giant" or "ghost" receded behind that of "goblin" or "gawk",'. The sorn's features are 'grotesque, not horrible.' It differs further from humanity in possessing a natural coat of something more feathery than furry; this coat is described in the sorns of one area as being white or creamy, but red for desert dwellers. Their hands are fan-shaped, have seven fingers-these being thin, something like a bird's leg. Their gait is certainly not human. They are capable of travelling carrying a man on their shoulders.

The sorn happily resides at altitudes that would imperil human life in the thinness of the air. They show a familiarity with abstract thought; a pfifltrigg says that 'no one learns the sorns' speech, for you can change their knowledge into any words and it remains the same.' This knowledge may be abstract, but can be put into practice; witness the oxygen cylinder Ransom must use on the heights- thought by seroni, made by pfifltriggi. They are not purely airy speculators either; examining the heavens with something like a telescope. Nor are they, somehow, a caste of theorists - one, Augray, supports himself as a shepherd, consuming milk and cheese. They possess names 'big-sounding' to the pfifltriggi - Augray, Arkal, Belmo, Falmay. They seem to be fairly solitary and 'make least account of females'. Their humour 'seldom got beyond irony'.

By Nathan J. Anderson. 

THE SORN

Size: 3

HP - d6+2+ CON +/-.

Attack Modifiers - +1 Melee.
Mind Save 9 + WIS +/-
Speed Save 5 + DEX+/-
Body Save  7 + CON +/-

Knowledge    Notice Detail   Hear Noise   Handiwork   Stealth   Athletics
      [XX]               [XX]                [X]              [ ]              [  ]             [X]

Starts with Background Words: Mountain, Language: Old Solar, Spells: 1+INT bonus.

Level Advancement: +1 Melee every Fourth Level
                                    +1 to all Saves every Odd Level
                                    +2 Spells per level

Spells cast as Wizard. Spells are learnt through study, as a Wizard - but the 'flavour' of the Seroni magic is a logical, semi-mathematical process, rather than a messy, ecstatic intuitive matter.


***

The hross (pl. hrossa) are about seven feet tall, 'covered, face and all, in thick black animal hair, and whiskered like a cat.'  They have short legs with webbed feet and a beaver-like tail. The hrossa is described as being 'something like a penguin, something like an otter, something like a seal; the slenderness and flexibility of the body suggested a giant stoat.' They wear few clothes, but bear girdles with tools and pouches. A 'greater crested hross' is mentioned - ten foot tall, a fine dancer.

Some dwell in the low river valleys, in communities that farm and fish. The hrossa is fond of poetry (or dancing)  - excessively so, if the sorn Augray is to be believed. They are beyond this hunters - and make poetry about their hunting of ferocious beast called the hnakra. This poetry is not written down. They have names like Hnoh, Hhihi, Hyoi, Hlithnahi, Hnohra, Hyahi and Whin. 

THE HROSS

HP - d6+2+ CON +/-.

Attack Modifiers - +2 Melee, +2 Missile
Mind Save 5 + WIS +/-
Speed Save 9 + DEX+/-
Body Save  7 + CON +/-

Knowledge    Notice Detail   Hear Noise   Handiwork   Stealth   Athletics
      [X]               [X]                [X]                 [X]                 [X]             [X]

Starts with Background Words: River Valley, Language: Old Solar, and One Fighter Ability. They cannot start with any Scripts, but they are superior swimmers.

To play a Hross, a player must have CHA +1 - reflecting their command of poetry and general speech-craft.

Level Advancement: +1 Melee, +1 Missile every Even Level
                                    +1 to all Saves every Odd Level
                                    +1 Fighter Ability every Four Levels

By Nathan J. Anderson. 

                         
***
For completeness's sake....


THE PFIFLTRIGG

HP - d6+1+ CON +/-.

Attack Modifiers - +1 Melee/+1 Missile.
Mind Save 7 + WIS +/-
Speed Save 9 + DEX+/- [They are shown to jump quite far]
Body Save  5 + CON +/-

Knowledge    Notice Detail   Hear Noise   Handiwork   Stealth   Athletics
      [XX]               [X]                [X]                [X][X]             [  ]             [X]

Starts with Background Words: Underground, Language: Old Solar and Two Pfifltriggi Tools (see below).

Level Advancement: +1 Melee/ +1 Missile every Fourth Level
                                    +1 to all Saves every Odd Level
                                    +1 Pfifltriggi Tool every Level (see below)

A Pfifltrigg may carry a great number of tools that may perform some physical function similar to Energy/Creation/Change spells or an otherwise bulky item of equipment. These have the same limitations as such spells (only so much fireball juice in the fireball machine). They gain such items once per level and must manufacture them personally, providing time and money for raw materials, parts and testing.

By Nathan J. Anderson. 

(Doubtless there are other artists who have made illustrations for Malacandra - but these are jolly good, and show the human form into the bargain for purposes of comparison!)

Fallout Home Counties: The Fisher Kingdoms

I just started chomping my way through Riddley Walker. So that means.....

The Fisher Kingdom concept came from a number of sources: most obvious, Arthurian myth - but that's a small piece of the pie. The second big one was the Isle of Thanet; and, indirectly of Sheppey. Whatever Thanet is known for now, it was once in fact an actual island - the beachhead for the Saxons. To have it as an independent kingdom was obvious.

After all that, I recalled the Fallout faction called the Enclave. What would such a group look like if it were faintly benevolent? High technology, high ideals, limited manpower, limited results.

The terms Fisher Kingdom lends itself instantly to Naval power; the exterior nature of the Fisher Kingdom to other factions made it an outsider - this and Sussex smugglers (see the Kipling poem 'A Smuggler's Song' from Puck of Pook's Hill) lend themselves to smuggling - of goods and people (smuggling even being mentioned in the inspiration post) Lovers of freedom, especially from the White Horse Brethren.

One final element: age. The Enclave is a remnant of another time; let us have The Fisher Kingdom be so likewise, with a population of ageing idealists sustained by pre-apocalypse technology which they are slow to share. The connections of longevity brings the whole thing round back to Arthurian myth.

What do they do then, these Fisherfolk? Fight against the White Horse Brethren (they dislike serfdom), takes goods and people across the Channel (Flanders and Normandy probably aren't that wholesome; giving the Fisher Kingdom a connection in Brittany is quite fitting). They fish for much of their diet - there are plentiful stocks of mutant North Sea cod. But they aren't many, and they aren't welcoming, bring a little too mindful of their own pleasures. They do not have much land to sustain themselves on.

There is something of twentieth century American foreign policy about this: broadly benevolent, but not necessarily in it for the long haul. Certainly more democratic, more liberal than the White Horse Brotherhood - but not exerting a great hold over the Home Counties, and unlikely to if they stay on this course. A little like a merchant republic - but not exactly an open city.

The Fisher Kingdom AT BEST: Heroes who cruise in, kill the evil emperor, cure Little Timmy’s consumption, give the starving villagers 1000000000000 fish fingers and go on to the next adventure.

AT WORST:  They cruise in, blow up the overlord’s palace and cruise out again, trusting that democracy and free trade will spring up among the villagers, keeping all the best toys for themselves.

The Bard in the 2010s - and Beyond....

 The Bard is something of a staple of the tabletop. For better or for worse. Further, it is the subject of less than flattering blog posts and commentary. Not unreasonably.

From http://we-are-rogue.tumblr.com/post/156902093740/thief-and-bardo-rpg-dd-character-by-leonardo

Yes, please do scale the side of a building whilst wearing a cumbersome, fragile lute on your back.
Are you really going to play a jaunty melody when you reach the top?

To take a brief left turn, recent years have seen a great deal of talk and print about media. Representation; exclusion; appropriate narratives - all, to some degree or the other, about power. Now, I do not propose try and convince you of any given position in this regard. But to bring up this given area of discussion is important. 

The Bard, I propose, should not be thought of as a musician; a minstrel. The Bard should be thought of as a storyteller, accompanied by music or otherwise. The literal name harks back to storytellers, as I understand a bard. Let us reach back to the Early Medieval period in Europe: the Dark Ages. Christianity might be about, but there may not be a plethora of scriptoria for the production of many books - not that parchment and ink is free. Runestones are too heavy to hefted about the place. Therefore, even if this is not purely oral as a culture, lots of the cultural power and memory is preserved by a certain group. 

This is quite glib, I suppose, historically or anthropologically. But it is to my mind it is a superior use of the Bard to magic songs. (There is an instance of good magic songs in The Kalevala - but this more suggests to me a wizard who needs to hit the bass notes in order to cast Magic Missile than a bard archetype).

Therefore, a few examples. We know what a good wizard is: Merlin. We know what a bad wizard is: Saruman. We know a good paladin is: Galahad. We know what a bad paladin is: Darth Vader. What of Bards? What is there other than Orpheus? But applying my schemes, consider the following.

The good bard Mavramorn told the tale of the great hero Restimar during the siege of the Castle Passarid by the forces of the Dread Legion. The might of the hero and his indomitable strength gave heart to the besieged forces and stopped the wizardry of the wicked Uvilas from tricking them into a surrender.

The evil bard Glozelle told the tale of the evil Phenris Wolf and his crocodile tear tricks to pray on the innocent heroine Erimon. By doing so at the Beruna Peace Conference, he flared up anti-appeasement sentiments and pushed the land into a long costly, avoidable war between the great powers.

(For those who like their Appendix N, consider the youth of Fritz Lieber's Fafhrd as a skald - which served him well in the story 'Lean Times in Lankhmar'.)

The storytelling powers of the Bard, in such circumstances is higher than we might think, given the availability of cinema and print. Consider the impact of a skilled storyteller (or, indeed, any performer) under such circumstances. 

The Bard becomes, then, a repository of cultural lore (distinct from religious or magical lore or criminal underworld street smarts) and an effective diplomat. Rather than an embarrassing musician.

***

This might end there, but one more thing did occur to me. This kind of Bard, possessing this kind of storytelling potency only exists under a certain set of circumstances. The printing press, the cinema, the internet - rather get in the way.

But apart from an Early Medieval European or Early Medieval European inspired fantasy world, another role sprung up. Similar straightened circumstances, similar relative lack of information, similar hard times. Another time and place where something like this Bard idea might exist.

The Front Line. A propaganda officer.

Source.

Pictured: A Bard.

Consider it: a dearth of information; a man who tells you deeply affecting tales. The political officer, who is not there to command or fight or drive a tank. Stories, images, music designed to get the common soldier inspired and to keep them loyal. (Each time the Bard levels up, the Bureau of Military Morale delivers new and increasingly effective propaganda material!)

Quite a leap from effete minstrels to political officers, I know. But it's perhaps only a slight step if the Bard as cultural loremaster and storyteller takes centre stage.

Source.

Pictured: Bard with points in Marksmanship and Swordplay.

The Dark Tower, C. S. Lewis and M. R. James

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.

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.

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.

Source: http://www.lotfp.com/store/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=146

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.

Source: https://rhineville.deviantart.com/art/Leo-257302250

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!

Source: https://rhineville.deviantart.com/art/Virgo-276367220

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.

William Morris, Arts and Crafts Dwarves, and the Pfiflitriggi

I recently had occasion to watch over a few clips from the Peter Jackson film adaptation of The Hobbit from these last few days. They were not films I rated highly - however influential I found the Lord of the Rings flicks in my youth. However, they continued the visual style of those films (for better or worse) and one way or another this got me thinking on the Dwarves and how they are portrayed, especially in regard to industry.

This is the point where I talk about William Morris.

Pictured.

There are some very clear connections between the early-to-mid twentieth century work of Tolkien and the mid-to-late nineteenth century work of designer, novelist and activist William Morris. Most obviously, perhaps, his fantasy novels  such as The House of the Wolflings and his translation of several Icelandic Sagas in 1896-1870. Beyond that, the Arts and Crafts movement (another major proponent of which being John Ruskin, of whom more here) which Morris was such a big part of has a likeness with Tolkien in a concern with the effects of industry upon the British country and people. The battle of the Ents against the factories of Isengard being perhaps the clearest example in Tolkien's mythos.

Of course, one would most likely call neither Morris nor Tolkien an Anarcho-Primitivist. Both make a place for the work of the smith and the machine. The crafted sword of Aragorn may fight off numerous manufactured orc blades - something which has echoed in named weapons throughout post-Tolkien fantasy, even into the often deconstructionist A Song of Ice and Fire. Such swords provide material for the cynical or satiric fantasist; I paraphrase Tom Holt in referring to a King suffering a blow from "not a battle-axe with runes all over the blade- just something run up by the local blacksmith."  Morris seems willing to have embraced elements of mechanisation in the production of his textiles, even as he criticised the omnipresence of industry and its effects.

Dwarves are not the only craftsmen in Tolkien, of course, but they have the most association as a race with that notion - from their creation by the Valar smith Aule, to their lives within a crafted environment in the mines. Such notions go back to the Poetic Edda, but this deserves spelling out.
All this goes doubly so for Post-Tolkien work, which can ramp this up quite considerably (see, for instance, the black powder, gyrocopters, steam tanks, and blimps of the Warhammer and Warcraft franchises).

A Warhammer Fantasy Dwarf Gyrocopter minature. From 8th Edition

Let us reframe Dwarf-dom, then, away from the actively industrial. Let us have dwarves just as craftsmen (and women), not machinists. Dwarves who must forge their own weapons and armour from scratch; dwarves working for themselves, upon their own creations, to their own designs. I am reminded of  the taboo mentioned in Sir Terry Pratchett's Men At Arms of one dwarf touching another's tools. Doubtless there would be some communal activity - in wartime, in carving out mountain homes for themselves. But the mass production of goods seems unlikely, however prolific such dwarves would be to produce a horde large enough for any prospective Smaug to take a nap upon. Likewise, perhaps we might say that it is only the fully mature dwarf who works so. The child is educated in basic techniques until they are grown and qualified to work for themselves.   The superhuman hardiness and resolve of dwarves may be called upon the plug any gaps in this scheme.

This might have an angle of the Victorian socialism of Morris, but it would be a mistake to have non-human society when worldbuilding imitate precisely the ways of any given political system or culture from human history. Moreover, to quote from Tolkien's friend and colleague C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity, "There will be no manufacture of silly luxuries and then of sillier advertisements to persuade us us to buy them*....We should feel that its economic life was very socialistic and, in that sense, 'advanced' but that its family life and its code of manners were very old-fashioned - perhaps even ceremonious and aristocratic." This is not perhaps an entirely pertinent quote in itself, but elements of it might reflect upon an optimistic view of this Arts and Crafts Dwarven polity.

Pivoting on this awkward quote, I should like to suggest that these dwarves already, after a fashion exist: in the work of C.S.Lewis. Not, as might be obvious, the dwarves of Narnia, but some of the denizens of Malacandra in Out of the Silent Planet from The Cosmic Trilogy. I speak of the Pfiflitriggi.

How to describe them? The face is "long and pointed, like a shrew's, yellow and shabby-looking, and so low in the forehead that....much more insectlike or reptilian...Its build was distinctly like that of a frog...that part of its forelimbs on which it was supported was in human terms, rather an elbow than a hand. It was broad and padded and clearly made to be walked upon, but upwards from it, at an angle of forty-five degrees, went the true forearms - thin, strong forearms, ending in enormous, sensitive many-fingered hands." About their bodies, they carry a number of small instruments. One that the protagonist, Dr Ransom, meets is dressed "in some bright scaly substance which appeared richly decorated...It had folds of furry clothing about its throat...dark bulging goggles...Rings and chains of a bright metal ...adorned its limbs and neck."

By Nathan J. Anderson. 

The Pfiflitriggi are suited to be craftsmen; the one met in Out of the Silent Planet is a sculptor. When asked about their position with the other races of Malacandra, he says "No one learns the speech of my people, for what we have to say is said in stone and sun's blood and stars' milk." Their homes are in "The true forests, the green shadows, the deep mines," with "houses with a hundred pillars, one of sun's blood ,and the next of stars' milk all the way...and all the world painted on the walls."

These mines are worked by all, though "each digs for himself the thing he wants to work"; if a pfifltrigg does not work the mines, how is he to "understand working in sun's blood unless he went into the home of sun's blood himself and knew one kind from another and lived with it for days out of the light of the sky." There are hints of matriarchy - confirmed in Lewis's Postscript, along with the fact that they are short-lived among the races of Malacandra and oviparous. They bear names such as Kanakaberaka, Kalakaperi, Parakataru and Tafalakeruf. Such humour as they possess is said to be sharp and excel in abuse.

This is not perhaps very typically Dwarven. But the crafting and mining - and the semi-Utopian air in which it occurs - fit in very nicely with the 'Morrisian Dwarf', if such a thing can be. However, I believe that the humble pfifltrigg deserves a chance at adventure on the tabletop. Therefore, I propose to create a homebrew class for one for The Fifty-Two Pages.

THE PFIFLTRIGG

HP - d6+1+ CON +/-.

Attack Modifiers - +1 Melee/+1 Missile.
Mind Save 7 + WIS +/-
Speed Save 9 + DEX+/- [They are shown to jump quite far]
Body Save  5 + CON +/-

Knowledge    Notice Detail   Hear Noise   Handiwork   Stealth   Athletics
      [XX]               [X]                [X]                [X][X]             [  ]             [X]

Starts with Background Words: Underground, Language: Old Solar and Two Pfifltriggi Tools (see below).

Level Advancement: +1 Melee/ +1 Missile every Fourth Level
                                    +1 to all Saves every Odd Level
                                    +1 Pfifltriggi Tool every Level (see below)

A Pfifltrigg may carry a great number of tools that may perform some physical function similar to Energy/Creation/Change spells or an otherwise bulky item of equipment. These have the same limitations as such spells (only so much fireball juice in the fireball machine). They gain such items once per level and must manufacture them personally, providing time and money for raw materials, parts and testing.

By Nathan J. Anderson. He plays a mean harpsichord.

*There seems something curiously resonant with the 'murderhobo' stereotype about this: either a piece of jewellery is enchanted, and useful; and thus worth keeping - or it is treasure, to be sold when the adventurer reaches the nearest large town. It would be interesting to see what would happen it was made clear that an amulet of strength (or what have you) was terribly beautiful, but mechanically inferior next to its counterpart.

Majipoor and OSR Aesthetics of Ruin

I recently decided to re-read some of Robert Silverberg's Majipoor stories. The series starts with Lord Valentine's Castle (1980), which won the Locus Award for Best Fantasy Novel in 1981. There are a handful of other books and short stories, but I'm going to pick on this one for a lot of my points - firstly because this was the book to set my thoughts in motion; secondly because this is the first in a series (even if they are all, by and large, self-contained) and has to do the heavy lifting, worldbuilding -wise.

The 1981 British Edition, by Pan Books. Cover art by Josh Kirby; this photograph from Abe Books.

Majipoor, for the uninitiated, is a planet many times larger than Earth, if less dense. It has been settled by mankind and by various aliens for many thousands of years, though it is also occupied by the Metamorphs, the natives of the planet. Science Fiction? Not quite; however many far-future devices might be employed by denizens of Majipoor, (hovering floaters, energythrowers), an agricultural career seems more likely than not. Moreover, forms of magic appear to exist and the story of Lord Valentine's Castle is about a deposed prince reclaiming his throne. (This article from Tor places it firmly in the Science Fantasy camp).

This extends to the system of government; however laissez-faire day to day or local governance may get, the world of Majipoor operates something like 'an adoptive divine-right duumvirate buttressed by two dream-manipulating spiritual powers'. This is never really questioned, even by the rare absolute outsider we see. The fact that criminals can be pursued by the Long Arm of the Law into their dreams is taken as completely natural. (I might stake money on there being a  Young Adult dystopia based on this very premise; that Silverberg has an entire world just take it as read is interesting.) The system, incidentally, seems to work: war is virtually unknown on Majipoor, though other ills are not. This gentleman describes it as somewhat utopian; I am not so sure - however pleasant it may be I suspect it has quite enough worldly cares, obsessions and woes to disqualify it.

(This site has a great deal more on the details of Majipoor).

What has this largely vital, if slow-changing world to do with Aesthetics of Ruin? I shall draw on this article from Manola's Against the Wicked City - which is well worth reading.

From Lord Valentine's Castle: 'The mount was comfortable, as well it might be, for they had been bred for comfort for thousands of years, these artificial animals, these witchcraft creatures out of the old days, strong and tireless and patient, able to convert any sort of trash into food. The skill of making them was long forgotten, but now they bred of themselves, like natural animals, and it would be a slow business of Majipoor getting around without them.'

'The new road...and was paved in smooth blue-grey stuff of light resiliency, a springy, flawless roadbed that probably was of great antiquity, as were many of the best things of this world.'

'They said this Lord Valentine the Coronal lived in a castle eight thousand years old, with five rooms for every year of its existence, and that the castle sat on a mountain so tall it pierced the sky, a colossal peak thirty miles high, on whose slopes were fifty cities as big as Pidruid...The world was too big, too old, too populous for one man's mind.'

Let us set this against the aesthetics of ruin, as expressed in the above article. Players are 'tiny figures wandering a world of dead and dying titans, stumbling amidst the wreckage of mighty forces they do not understand'. These ruin-settings are 'likely to be inhabited by clans of mad and degenerate morlocks practicing weird semi-functional cargo-cult sorcery based on badly-misunderstood fragments of ancient knowledge'. 

Art by Jim Burns, used as the cover for The Majipoor Chronicles.

To compare with a near-contemporary of Lord Valentine's Castle, in Majipoor, however dwarfed by the accomplishments of the past, people do not live in the grounded spaceships of Nessus of Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun. Though the titular castle is vast, it is still added to by each Coronal in turn. Silverberg makes clear fairly early the tone of the novel: '...for what was the use of being alive and healthy on a world as full of wonders as Majipoor if you did not journey hither and thither on it?' 
Indeed, journeying - as a travelling performer, as the Coronal on a grand procession, as a soldier on campaign - would seem to be the preferred existence of the characters. The series is never uniformly light-hearted or whimsical, but always has an eye on such moments. 

If Majipoor is a world of ancient devices and societies, they have aged gracefully. The wilder portions of the landscape provide wonders for the settled lands. The loss of knowledge is not a festering sore or an absent limb, but a distant memory. The vast age of Majipoor can be daunting,m but not overpowering. If you will permit the poetry, on Majipoor the titans are not dead or dying - they may, appropriately enough, be dreaming.

None of this is to hold up Majipoor as the diametric opposite to the Aesthetics of Ruin, just as a meaningful contrast, or as a different usage of some of the same elements. I have not been able to find much in the way of RPG materials for Majipoor - which is a shame. It would be interesting to hold it up to more scrutiny and comment; perhaps opening up the setting for other authors, something like the short story collection Songs of the Dying Earth, would be a valuable project.

Map of a Nation: A Biography of the Ordnance Survey

It is a strange facet of British culture that the organisation dedicated to mapping the nation has its origins in the Armed Forces. If one were to suggest a society in which cartographers and soldiers were one and the same, it would sound somewhat implausible. Yet, even if this was not strictly the case, the Ordnance Survey had its origins after the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745 revealed a need for accurate maps of the nation: the mountains of Scotland being difficult enough to shift troops, supplies and artillery pieces around even if you know where to go. Naturally, any modern army will understand the importance of maps and information, but to have the two functions so closely linked is odd in a modern, civilian existence.

Indeed, the dearth of available information is fascinating to consider in the Twenty-First century; to digress briefly, it is the sort of thing that ought to be really hammered home in schools as the century develops, to think of a world where information was difficult to find and frequently inaccurate. Or the sheer difficulty of collecting information.

Not that any of this is my own work; deriving from my reading of Rachel Hewitt's Map of a Nation: A Biography of the Ordnance Survey (Granta, 2010). The start of it is deep in the Enlightenment 'everything can be measured' approach to things, though the uses of theodolite and measuring chain required more field work than the usual image of laboratory or drawing-room bound 18th Century Science. Measuring across vast distances, with The elements and distance were not the only threats: strange folk coming to survey one's land were not considered popular (an anecdote is given of a French surveyor being killed). In the paranoid times of 1798, when French invasion was predicted around the corner, surveyors could find themselves accused of being spies.

Local pride gave map-making a different air in Wales; the importance of getting place names correct was something that could draw venom from local dignitaries and commentators. Ireland was, if anything, more fraught; the survey was part of a re-assessment of tax boundaries (with some districts paying ten times that of others). The survey was initially staffed purely by British soldiers, as a measure against convenient errors; Irish labourers would eventually be hired, as would a team of Irish Catholics specifically required to work on place names - seeking to untangle the Irish name from any later English corruption. Naturally, the survey was not altogether popular; no serious violence is recorded, but much low-level disruption. It was even the subject of a play in 1980, Boundaries - though this piece of drama is little concerned with accuracy.

The great charting of the British isles was a long process - the final piece of the map would be published in 1870 - by which time, of course, the Industrial Revolution had wrought great changes, especially in a city like Birmingham. These maps were never altogether accessible to the general public (the first map made available to the general public cost several weeks wages for a skilled labourer). The Romantic movement would crop up to comment on the division of the countryside by the survey; Wordsworth and Blake both commenting negatively on this manifestation of the Enlightenment. Blake's image of Urizen in The Ancient of Days bears the tools of geometry and called out members of the survey in his Discourses. Worsdworth's own wanderings in the Lake District could be copied by tourists with new maps.

This has some applicability to the tabletop. The notion of the survey, taking delicate equipment into desolate places - assailed by the elements or the locals - seems an excellent starting point for a campaign. Careful calculations on top of mountains has something of a magical bent to it; reaching out across the wilderness to connect peoples together. I have been considering elements of a Enlightenment set or inspired campaign for a while and this seems an excellent inspiration and a interesting historical work.

Twelve Grave Guardians

I might have been absent for a while, but I have not been altogether idle. A visit to The British Museum helped produce the following list of funerary charms designed to thwart necromancers. If, for whatever reason, you attempt to raise a spirit from the dead, these items will attempt to stop you. Some could only be found on a corpse that has been specifically prepared for burial; others could easily be among the possessions of a fallen soldier on the battlefield.

(If you think Twelve Grave Guardians sounds like an order of terribly serious divine warriors, you are not entirely alone).

1. Upon tampering with the corpse, five mastiffs appear within five feet of the body. They will prioritise attacking the source of the magic that conjured them, but may attack others. The mastiffs are highly motivated to defend their owner, but are otherwise just mastiffs. Upon defeating them, you can find five terracotta statues of dogs painted in crude colours among the grave goods. They are not terribly valuable.

2.  Upon tampering with the corpse, the coffin or shroud in which it has been encased resists the necromancer's spells. The item enclosing the body has been prepared cannot attack, but will further resist any attempts to remove it. It must first be subdued before removal. Upon defeating it, you are in possession of a second-hand anti-necromancer device that must be restored before re-use. It is only potentially valuable, and certainly encumbering.

3.  Upon tampering with the corpse,  an giant eagle with a collar and chain about it's neck will appear from the chest of the cadaver.  It can attack, but will prefer to take up the body in its talons and fly away before the spirit can be thrust back into the flesh as one of the undead. If indoors or deep in a dungeon, bear in mind that this is no common giant eagle; it can phase through walls if necessary. However, catching hold of the chain will assist in subduing it. Upon defeating it, a battered enamel statue of an eagle with a chain may be found. It is not terribly valuable.

4. Upon tampering with the corpse, a large tortoise with a shell the colour of mahogany will appear, covering the body with its shell. No-one will rise from the grave with that beast sitting there. It can attack - but not for more than d6 damage. But it will resist most attempts to move it, or to penetrate the thick shell. Upon defeating it, you may find a tortoise statue of dark wood, no bigger than a human thumb joint. Unless you defeat it using fire, in which case you get ash - besides having a scorched corpse.

5. Upon tampering with the corpse, a child of indeterminate sex in a thick hooded robe and holding a lantern will appear. The child will first ask you to stop. If you do not, it will wail loudly, piteously and continuously. It may then attack you, either by blinding you with a sudden flare of light from the lantern or by casting bolts of fire from the same. Either way, someone else will probably come running in response to the noise. Upon defeating it, a brass lantern with a stub of candle can be found. The candle cannot be lit.

6. Upon tampering with the corpse, an imp or other minor diabolical creature appears and attacks the nearest target. The infernal realms have a policy of not letting other parties interfere with a soul that is firmly with in their grasp. You will be attacked even despite any allegiance you might have to such powers. Friendly fire is not unknown in the inferno. Upon defeating it, you will discover a copper plaque etched with demonic script - as well as perhaps a few tokens of traffic with dark powers.

7. Upon tampering with the corpse, a ghost will appear and attack you for up to twelve rounds. Upon defeating it, you will find an elaborate box with padded sections for twelve large coins. The number of coins found is equal to twelve minus the number of turns it took to defeat this spectral mercenary. The coins are not of any currency accepted as legal tender by earthly banks, though they may have value to some.

8. Upon tampering with the corpse, three arms holding three swords, jointed at the centre like a triskelion, appear and attack, making three attacks each turn. Upon defeating it, three swords will be found among the grave goods, joined by a chain. The swords will be too corroded or too ornamental to serve as a weapon.

9. Upon tampering with the corpse, a glowing sigil will appear upon it - a necromancer's hallmark. Another wizard has used this body before, or wishes to use it in the future. Out of professional courtesy, it will not attack you. But if you wish to continue to take mastery over this corpse, you must 'hack' through the hallmark, making several mind saves. Upon doing so, the corpse looses the glowing sigil (though a talented magician could detect what had been before). The owner of the hallmark may now be aware of what you have done, however.

10. Upon tampering with the corpse, a series of miniature statues holding images of the corpses entrails will attack you. These canopic sentries are effectively miniature golems. They carry no weapons except these images. Upon defeating them, you may find preserved entrails with in these statues.

From the Louvre; Charles IV, the Fair (d. 1328) and his wife Jeanne d'Evreux (d. 1371), each holding a bag containing their entrails. Think of something like this, but two feet tall. See also the burial of Richard the Lionheart for inspiration.

11. Upon tampering with the corpse, you are prevented from doing so by Consanguinity Charms! These chains link together members of the same family line - if you would raise one, you must raise those linked to it - which is a terrible strain on the magical abilities of an inexperienced necromancer. The more members of the same lineage are in the same tomb, linked by the same chain, the more difficult it becomes. A well-made chain is integrated into a family vault or catacomb in such a way as it is very difficult to remove physically. Upon removing or nullifying the chain, you are in possession of many feet of heavy engraved chain, ornamented with semi-precious stones (for preference, red ones).

12. Upon tampering with the corpse, it bursts into fierce flames. It was clearly buried with an Emergency Pyro-Purgative; the departed apparently of the belief that undesecrated ashes were better than a desecrated corpse. If you manage to remove the Pyro-Purgative before tampering, you are now in possession of a vial of a silvery liquid that ignites in the presence of necromantic spells.

The Blazing World's method for Rejuvenation

The Empress having thus declared her mind to the Ape-men, and given them better Instructions then perhaps they expected, not knowing that her Majesty had such great and able judgment in Natural Philosophy, had several conferences with them concerning Chymical Preperations, which for brevities sake, I'le forbear to reherse: Amongst the rest, she asked, how it came that the Imperial Race appear'd so young, and yet was reported to have lived so long; some of them two, some three, and some four hundred years? and whether it was by Nature, or a special Divine blessing? 

To which they answered, That there was a certain Rock in the parts of that World, which contained the Golden Sands, which Rock was hallow within, and did produce a Gum that was a hundred years before it came to its full strength and perfection; this Gum, said they, if it be held in a warm hand, will dissolve into an Oyl, the effects whereof are following: It being given every day for some certain time, to an old decayed man, in the bigness of a little Pea, will first make him spit for a week, or more; after this, it will cause Vomits of Flegm; and after that it will bring forth by vomits, humors of several colours; first of a pale yellow, then of a deep yellow, then of a green, and lastly of a black colour; and each of these humours have a several taste, some are fresh, some salt, some sower, some bitter, and so forth; neither do all these Vomits make them sick, but they come out on a sudden, and unawares, without any pain or trouble to the patient: And after it hath done all these mentioned effects, and clear'd both the Stomack and several other parts of the body, then it works upon the Brain, and brings forth of the Nose such kinds of humors as it did out of the Mouth, and much after the same manner; then it will purge by stool, then by urine, then by sweat, and lastly by bleeding at the Nose, and the Emeroids; all which effects it will perform within the space of six weeks, or a little more; for it does not work very strongly, but gently, and by degrees: Lastly, when it has done all this, it will make the body break out into a thick Scab, and cause both Hair, Teeth, and Nails to come off; which scab being arrived to its full maturity, opens first along the back, and comes off all in a piece like armour, and all this is done within the space of four months. 

After this the Patient is wrapt into a Cere- cloth, prepared of certain Gums and Juices, wherein he continues until the time of nine Months be expired from the first beginning of the cure, which is the time of a Childs formation in the Womb. In the mean while, his diet is nothing else but Eagles-eggs, and Hinds-milk; and after the Cere-cloth is taken away, he will appear of the age of Twenty, both in shape, and strength. The weaker sort of this Gum is soveraign in healing of wounds, and curing of slight distempers. But this is also to be observed, that none of the Imperial race does use any other drink but Lime-water, or water in which Lime-stone is immerged; their meat is nothing else but Fowl of several sorts, their recreations are many, but chiefly Hunting.

Margaret Cavendish's The Blazing World of 1666 announces the above method of immortality for its Emperors. The method has a certain 'Hard Science Fiction' quality to it - within a Seventeenth Century understanding of 'hardness'. It is time-consuming, messy, complex and difficult. Neither is it like a magical formula which is all those things and then suddenly produces the Philosopher's Stone (or similar) in a neat, easy-to-swallow bundle.

Why post this here? It has an eminent 'grit' to it, reminiscent of OSR elements. It has potential - for use as a lych alternative or for the messier kind of magic healing. Lamentations of the Flame Princess could probably swallow it whole. It fits with that kind of White Hot Sparks from the Crucible of the Enlightenment setting I should like to flesh out more thoroughly at some point.