Terpsichorean Sodality of the Bird People

Over at False Machine, a 'dungeon poem challenge' has been set. I've been toying with some ideas for this, and they at least demand an airing - though I doubt they entirely offer 'the condensation of utility, beauty, meaning and originality into a functional and interesting micro-adventure. '

Without further ado.....

The Sodality buildings are principally of dull brick, partially sunk in the earth. The shape of the complex has been masked by flowerbeds, mounds and dense thickets. Thin chimneys and skylights are set into the buildings. Glazed tiles cover many of the surfaces. 

Aviscaputs, the bird-headed are neither unknown nor common to the local area.

A1 An entrance hall, with hatstands, fire-place and a long sideboard covered in crockery (some of it quite valuable). Two screens isolate one corner of the room.

Monedulus Alleline, a man with the head of a jackdaw, paces nervously.. If surprised he will jump. He may be reciting prayers. He will give a cold welcome to newcomers.

He is deeply worried about the coming rites, and dreads Vansittart's proposed alterations.

The kestrel-headed Raptora Uexkull waits behind the screens. She is very calm and will remain very calm, because she is pointing two flintlock pistols at you. (These are weapons of her own making, and have curving talons on the butts). She refers to Monedulus as 'Little Clerk' with exaggerated contempt. 

Her aim is to get you to surrender your weapons, and go to meet Tietjens to decide what to do with you.

A2 The kitchen. A comfortable, warm room with a large gilt samovar providing tea.

The wren-headed Iolanthe Wrenfield is trying to play cribbage with Patrick Hooke. This is not going well; Hooke is intimidated by her beak and is distracted by thoughts of his lover, Brand.

Iolanthe is trying to distract Hooke, and make his stay all the happier. She will offer newcomers black tea laced with rum, and offer spritely conversation.

Patrick Hooke is a strung-out man who has suffered a wreck on the river. Tietjens has decided that he cannot leave the Sodality until the week is out, as part of the ritual. He cannot play cards.

A3 A wood panelled room, with several large desks; numerous books lie about the room in careful piles.

Hoopoe Tietjens stands at a lectern; piles of paper surround him. The several pillars are studded with long paper strands - invocation, notes, more. Lanner Coningsby is probably lounging somewhere nearby.

Hoopoe Tietjens had the head of a Hoopoe; everyone else is in awe of his crest and long beak. He is the master of the Sodality and will insist on you staying on for the rites (he is reluctant to use force, but may do so all the same). He will offer you tawny port and thin biscuits, and ask searching questions. 

Tietjens is worried by the conduct of Vansittart but has a number of issues that concern him to attend to before then. In his lectern are a number of rare scrolls  - these are magical and spiritual dialogues, of startling interest. He carries a long hunting dagger. 

Lanner Coningsby contrasts a practiced languidness with the sharp eyes of a falcon. He is tending to an incense-burner and will chime in with the odd bon mot in response to Tietjens or anyone else who comes in.

A4 A reception room with several ornate chairs; an iron balcony overlooking the river. The tiles in the room depict the life of a female saint, culminating in her death in a marketplace.

St John Goldfinch is here, apparently talking to Clemency Yaffle. She is watching him carefully, whilst pretending to read.

St John Goldfinch has the head of a goldfinch, and is perpetually trying to groom himself. He is remarking upon the folly of casting the lots to arrange the rites. 

Clemency Yaffle dislikes Goldfinch. She is headed like a green woodpecker and carries a fowling-piece in a duffel-bag.

B1 A sandy cove, with the remains of a boat.

Evelyn Brand is a young woman who was wrecked here with Hooke. Her ankle was badly twisted, and he went in search of help a day ago. She has lit a small fire and survived on river water and smoked eel fillets. She has hidden as best she can from the Sodality.

Brand is trying to distract herself with a book of metaphysical poets. She will quote them at the first opportunity. 

B2 The Egret-headed Dalziel sits on the riverbank, apparently sketching in charcoal. He has exaggerated the forms of the bridge between A4 and B3 to rococo hideousness. He does not wish to be interrupted, and can get quite sharp. If pressed overlong, he may attempt a show of force.

B3 Antechamber dotted with stools. The double doors into the grand hall are shut. 

The guilliemot-headed Urgulanilla Guillemot is consuming a platter of marinated herring. She will attempt to draw in newcomers under her (metaphorical wing) asserting her generosity and the folly of Tietjens. She will offer you a glass of thin white wine laced with rowanberry schnapps, and is unwilling to take no for an answer.

Picador Vansittart is a magpie-headed man, apparently attached to a large pink gin. He is engaged in contemplation of an engraving, showing a nobleman of antiquity drinking from a cup shaped like a dragon. 

Vansittart wishes to alter the rites of the Sodality in his own image. He will happily debate the age and antiquity of the Sodality, and the folly of his colleagues. 

B4 Dormitory, divided by screens into two sections. It overlooks the river; two bathing-places have been sculpted from the riverside.

Gymkhana Dabchick sits at a dressing table, apparently contemplating an ivory statue of a hermaphroditic faun. She will happily tell your where she found it, and some of the cultural connotations of the coitusgeist. 

Hilarion Ptarmigan is dozing in the sunlight by the bathing place. The ptarmigan-headed man will wake if you approach, and ask what time supper is. By him is an empty plate and half a bottle of Madeira, which he will not offer to share.

C1 The great hall has been cleared of furniture: several paintings of mythic  or allegoric scenes remain on the walls. 

C2 Three trapdoors lead out of the great hall into a vestry. Long racks for clothes and storage chests abound. An altar in one corner contains ritual cleansing paraphernalia

C3 A concealed storage room where the furniture of the great hall has been placed. One coffer contains a quantity of silver plate, including a salt-cellar in the shape of a peacock.

The Rite of the Sodality

Over several evenings, the Sodality will conduct their rites. This involves a hymn to the Unknown God, followed by a series of dances and dialogues featuring a cast of distantly allegorical figures.
This begins and concludes in the great hall, but ranges through-out the sodality.

Lamp-lit King    Effects: Ornate lamp, crown, sword.

Movements: wide, deliberate, ornate.       Language and tone: hospitable, semi-liturgical.

Brimstone Cavalier Effects: plumed cap, sabre, pomander.

Movements: Swift, aggressive.     Language and tone: Impassioned, prideful, 

Maid in Red         Effects: Red Kirtle, sistrum.

Movements: poised, fluid.          Language and tone: Courageous, curt, steel-tongued. 

Grandmother of Dragons Effects: Mantle, torch, coin pouch

Movements: Slow, even-paced.    Language and tone: thoughtful, condescending, wheedling.

Brass Councillor Effects: brass-bound staff, fur-trimmed robes

Movements: long strides or absolute stillness.  Language and tone: long-winded, temperate.

Ash Wife      Effects: Pale grey-green cloak, gilt chains.

Movements: choppy, whip-like.       Language and tone: Insinuating, somewhat sing-song.

Reluctant Knave     Effects: Ornate jerkin, axe, dagger, wineskin

Movements: furtive, pained.        Language and tone: Low-pitched, embarrassed

Armed Ploughman         Effects: Pistol, scrip, staff.

Movements: straight lines, head erect.        Language and tone: Platitudinous, sincere.

Velvet Burgher Effects: ruff, sash, tall hat

Movements: distracted, unfocused.        Language and tone: mealy-mouthed soft.

Kindly Death         Effects: White metal circlet, chalice, long cloak.

Movements: twining, unobtrusive.       Language and tone: Deep-voiced, formal, polite.

Wasted Prelate Effects: Amulet, dusty robes, book. 

Movements: small steps, halting.    Language and tone: Thin-voiced, speculative, devotional, sorrowing. 

Messenger Effects: message pouch, whip, horn.

Movements: Swift, direct.           Language and tone: oddly modern, polemic.

Actions during the Rite

Outsiders may witness the Rite, but must remain silent. 

Picador Vansittart and Urgulanilla Guillemot will try to disrupt proceedings by forcing Sodality members out of character. Both may make deliberate mistakes, impertinent remarks or veiled seduction attempts. Minor magics are available to them.

Vansittart has obtained a exotic sabre as part of his costume. He may threaten others with this; he has not yet decided if murder will accomplish his aims. 

Hooke on his own is a target for the disruptors. If Hooke and Brand are united, they will put up a better defence (both afterwards will share a horror of birds). 

Coningsby, Yaffle and Alleline are the most dedicated to the orthodox Rite. 

Yaffle, Uexkull and Dalziel are the most likely to attempt violence as part of the Rite.

A List of Sodality Members

Together with their roles in the Rite, loose personality sketches and bird heads.

1. Hoopoe Tietjens.  [Hoopoe], Lamp-lit King, Generous, Intelligent but Inflexible
2. Picador Vansittart. [Magpie], Brimstone Cavalier, Innovative and Vicious
3. Raptora Uexkull.  [Kestrel], Maid in Red, Vivacious and Bloodthirsty
4. Iolanthe Wrenfield. [Wren], Grandmother of Dragons,  Kind but oblivious
5. Lanner Coningsby. [Lanner falcon], Brass Councillor, Irreverent and sardonic
6. Urgulanilla Guillemot. [Guillemot], Ash-Wife, Hedonistic and commanding
7. St. John Goldfinch. [Goldfinch], Reluctant Knave, Unfocused and arrogant
8. Clemency Yaffle. [Green woodpecker], Armed Ploughman, Dogged and unsubtle
9. Gymkhana Dabchick. [Dabchick], Velvet Burgher, Overfamiliar and earthy
10. Monedulus Alleline. [Jackdaw], Kindly Death, Worrisome perfectionist, loyal
11. Egret Dalziel. [Great white egret],Wasted Prelate, Envious, scrupulous
12. Hilarion Ptarmigan. [Ptarmigan], Messanger, Apathetic, gluttonous

Why are you at the Sodality?

1. A vintner has sent you to them with the matter of an unpaid bill.
2. The carpenter's wife hints darkly to you of their strange goings-on.
3. You know a wizard who will pay for the corpse of an Aviscaput.
4. Pavo Esterhazy has sent you to them with a letter of recommendation.
5. The local priest has asked you to take a message of goodwill.
6. A fisherman has lent out a boat, and it has not yet been returned.

Six Concepts in the Literature of the Rite

1. Repentant silence
2. The imminent and eternal desert
3. The sword in one hand, the trowel in the other
4. A timeless rose
5. Transcendental sight through constant purification
6. The constant note of horror and squalor

Costumes from the 1883 Cambridge Greek Play,
Aristophanes' The Birds.

All images found here.

I will post information on the inspiration for the above if requested in the comments. There is no intended Appendix N for the Sodality. Shouldn't even have posted the bird costumes, but they are good.

Motorcycle Leathers of the United Provinces

Some recent reading included Mythago Wood (mentioned on here before). One detail caught my eye: Harry Keaton, on entering Ryhope Wood brings with him motorcycle leathers - noted to be quite resilient to the cold, and generally tough. Better, certainly, than a cloak. I wouldn't like to say if this meant that 1940s motorcycle gear was of a similar resilience to leather armour, but it certainly set my mind in a certain direction.

Of equal use to the adventurer as armour are clothes that protect against the weather. Indeed, the notion of travelling in full armour at all times is a fairly dismal one. It works in the confines of the dungeon (a limited space, designed to be traversed), but perhaps not in the wilderness. It is familiar to sacrifice freedom of movement for protection: it should be no less strange to willingly encumber yourself with bulky clothes or a tent. Indeed, a modern-day six-person canvas tent with poles and pegs weighs 33 kilograms - and it does not pack down very compactly.  

Hence, I should like to put together equipment lists that include gear meant to keep out the cold, or the damp, or heat. Some of Joseph Manola's class equipment lists for Against the Wicked City do this very well. My recent trip to the Scum Quarter has helped inspire this; my references there to Electric Bastionland and Gus L's Fallen Empire are once again relevant. 

Another point before I start; I have come to the decision that equipment lists do not list everything. This is perhaps no surprise to you - equipment lists have rarely explicitly listed clothing - and never in such detail as to include everything. I take it that an adventurer has a full set of largely intact clothing, or a pocket knife to cut their meat, or a comb about them. 5E sidesteps this by providing a ready-packed Explorer's Kit on the items list with mess kit and tinderbox and the like - I would rather leave such a step up to the GM. Rules of thumb are useful here: we imagine that the player can readily carry a pocketknife and cut their meat or sharpen a pen, but they can't butcher a hog without having a cleaver. It might be that the player can trim or tie back their hair and brush most of the mud from the hem of their cloak - but washing the cloak and getting a haircut requires a laundry and a barber. 

There must be limits to this; needle and thread, yes, but not enough to make a tapestry. Enough vessels to cook a simple meal for the party, but no more. Anyway, that's probably enough of this for the time being. Time to put some of the ideas above into practice. 

***

The Leo Hollandicus of Claes Janszoon Visscher

The Thrice-Blessed, Benevolent and Victorious Republic of Datravia, known formerly and vulgarly as the Prizelands is a place of known, since the War of Liberation approximately a century and a half ago, for enviable modesty on the part of its inhabitants. Other than in some few particulars, their nature is peaceable, if not passive – if it is correct to draw that distinction. However, such matters as touch on their privileges, on the privileges of their Parliamentary Representatives and on the ancient laws of the Isle and City of Datresse, they are as humourless, passionate and inconsolable as any slighted courtier of the Imperial Household in gold-girdled Purlitz who has discovered a speck of dust on his pelisse.

The place is Datravia, vulgarly known as the Prizelands. The time is the time of my mooted Early Modern setting, clumsily referred to as White-Hot Sparks from the Crucible of the Enlightenment. The faith and cultural iconography refer to the Majestic Vision. The Temple and Church generator could fit here; the list of Religious Processions probably not. 

The obvious inspiration is Golden Age of the Netherlands, though a significant other influence would be  pre-Modern European city-state republics. There's probably a bit of A Tale of Two Cities and The Age of Innocence in here as well.  

1. Coach Guard /// Heavy lined greatcoat (as leather, resistant to cold and rain), Blunderbuss, Dark lantern, Flask of genever.
2. Parliamentary Lictor /// Green sash with ivy motif, Concealing robes, Ceremonial sickle-staff, Unceremonious pistol, Archaic privileges.
3. Dockyards Pugilist /// Hand wraps, hand wraps with concealed weights, Smelling salts, Jar of soothing unguent, Miraculously unbroken nose (+1 to CHA until you take a blow to the face).
4. Coffee vendor /// Portable brazier (can be carried on back, requires high-energy fuel), Heatproof jacket (as leather, resists flame), Coffee grinder & sufficient beans for two pots, Stale pastries, Wealth of gossip (start with 1d6 rumours).
5. Burgher of the Isle /// Wide-brimmed hat and lacy cuffs, Pocket watch, Box of calling cards, Officer's Gorget of a Shooter's Guild, Carbine of same (never fired outside the range). 

   

   The Shooting Company of Frans Banning Cocq and Willem van Ruytenburch 
   being the most famous of shooter's guilds.

   
   
6. Pamphleteer /// Bundle pamphlets (Roll 1d4; 1 - Comic, 2 - Poetic, 3 - Trenchant, 4 - Bawdy), Waistcoat with large flat hidden pocket, Bottle ink, Throat lozenges, Demagogue's Licence (Recently expired).
7. Lensgrinder /// One finished lens, Two glass blanks, Lapping powder, Caddy half full of restorative tea, Absence of fingerprints.
8. Supercargo /// Oilskin wrap (resists rain, seawater), Ledger in waterproof carrying case, Brace of pistols with exotic engravings, Tin of foreign sweetmeats.
9. Hot-house botanist /// Secateurs, Wide-brimmed hat and long loose coat (resists sun), Selection of Interesting Plant Cuttings*, Out-of-season bouquet.
10. Ley-line surveyor /// Witchsight theodolite, Tripod-staff, Rune-engraved measuring chain, Paper, Charcoal, Pen and Ink. 

*Said cuttings may purely be of academic interest, or ornamental value - but if you wish them to have a more interesting purpose, Appendices A-C of Yoon-Suin will be of use. (The plants won't necessarily be Tea or Opium, but they could have similar effects to those detailed.).

I was largely thinking of the Wicked City rules for firearms - though I have an appreciation for the awkward Lamentations of the Flame Princess matchlocks. 

Some of the above was composed with the aid of this website, largely focused on Delft. I'm not sure that it is utterly sound on every point, but it is very good at showing its sources. 

Punth: A PDF

If you are a long-time reader of this blog, or have spent some time in the archives, you will have encounter my posts on the land of Punth and the Primer, detailing how that distant society operates. 

Well, that series has now reached its conclusion. I have taken those posts, tidied them up a little and laid all out in a PDF. The content is much the same as what you will find here - indeed, I have cut out a certain amount of superfluous material, and neither the post on Postmodern Architecture nor the discussion of who draws the best Green Martian will appear (end of this post).

However, the PDF A) draws these posts all into one place, B) lays everything out neatly on the page and C) makes the scattering of posts into something like an actual Primer - a single introductory resource. I have labelled it as a 'mechanically-guided setting', which seems correct. I don't know how much use you might have for my details of a fictional totalitarian state, but the Codes provide a novel way to interact with the setting and communicate something of the land of Punth.

As ever, the Primer makes use of The 52 Pages, found at Roles, Rules and Rolls.

You will find the PDF available at Itch.io, with a pay-what-you-want system attached to it. In future I may release a Revised Edition, or something of the kind - but for now I have no other plans for Punth. 

However, I have spoken for too long, and shall usher you in the direction of Punth: A Primer. 

Back from the Scum Quarter!

I was pleased to discover that Garth Nix's 1988 spoof Choose Your Own Adventure Down to the Scum Quarter is available online - albeit via the Wayback Machine. It was also published in the book of short stories Across the Wall, but I don't imagine any of you would care to buy an entire paperback for the sake of one brief adventure. That said, the format it is parodying is a print medium - the experience of your eye drifting across the page to other entries, or keeping your thumb at the last page you turned to are a part of the joke. 

Anyway, the whole thing may be found here. It's a broad parody of Three Musketeers-flavoured swashbuckling (Nix refers to the Richard Lester-directed, George MacDonald Fraser-scripted 1970s film adaptations), rescuing your mistress, the Lady Oiseaux (yes) from kidnappers. Nix has had the wisdom to keep it short (a hundred brief entries in all, which I believe to be shorter than most game-books) - it's possible the broad humour might grate otherwise. 

I still find this quite fun. But it has a few other uses....

Nix had to devise and lay out (fairly rapidly) an Early Modern urban environment and scene. This equipment list:

Choose Five:

Dagger

Pistol (with powder & ball for five shots)

Bag of 20 Gold Bezants

Portrait of Lady Oiseaux (3'6" square)

Scented handkerchief

Halberd

20' rope

Repeater Watch

1 Bottle 'El Superbeau' Cognac

2 Pairs Silk Stockings

A glove puppet of Cyrano de Bergerac

Small Plaster Saint

1 Bottle 'Opossum' perfume

A Five-Pronged Fish-Spear

...begs to be re-used at the tabletop. It has the same sort of highly specific, characterful equipment options as offered in Electric Bastionland or these equipment lists from Gus L's Fallen Empire. These could meet the needs of a Rogue or Fop of some kind very nicely.

Nix also draws out some swiftly-drawn locations: the Boulevard of the Muses, The Carved Heads of Past Emperors, The Street of Fishmongers - as well as the Place of Plaice and the Avenue of Champignons. (Names like Fishgut Alley reek of Lankhmar). Using the link above, you could navigate these pretty quickly and at random, scattering encounters on the way. Again, these are fairly broad pastiche, but if it were needed, an apt way to quickly produce a slice of a dense, riotous city. Perhaps there's only one or two uses in it, but I'd happily use to sprinkle a spot of the Scum Quarter into an Early Modern setting.

Now, I imagine I've made my affection for Down to the Scum Quarter apparent. But could any other game book be used this way? I don't know; I never had any great love for them. I suspect that the length and relative complexity for the Cityport of Traps*, say, means that you might struggle to use it in the same way as Down to the Scum Quarter. You are welcome to prove me wrong.

 

*I have never encountered anything else referred to as a Cityport. Port Cities, yes. Harbour towns, yes. Cityports, no. 

Hic Svnt ****ones

I recently encountered a refutation of the idea that a) dinosaur fossils and some sort of fear-of-snakes ancestral memory gave birth to the image of the dragon across a number of cultures and b) that (accordingly from a) and referring more closely to folklore) all cultural dragon-like ideas were related. The serpent-slaying myth may be very old - but it is a very old myth from a distant Indo-European culture, and there is much of the world that is not Indo-European.

Now, we obviously connect the Western dragon of Beowulf (say) with the Chinese dragon - though this is the result of translation. But a fantasy setting that uses the real world or something very close to it might (often does?) throw into the dragon family all sorts of other things. Smaug's cousin is the Hydra; his aunt is Leviathan; he went to school with the Lambton Worm and the Naga. Shadowrun, for one, did this. 

But let's step away from that idea for a moment. Let us posit that various types of dragons are not at all closely related: that Nidhogg would take comparison with Tiamat the way you or I might take comparison with a baboon. To illustrate this if we glance at the current Linnean taxonomy for baboons and humans, you have to go from Species past Genus and Family to Infraorder (the Simiiformes) to find them in the same category. There's a very clear distinction between them - aside from all the differences you might already care to name between humans and baboons.

Proposal: in building a fantasy world, you may include dragons or dragon-like things, but you cannot use the word dragon. Now, if you read this blog, I suppose the chances are you already know a dozen alternatives for dragon. Some dragon-like images deviate from the fire-breathing winged Western norm sufficiently to not require adjustment - as the Feathered Serpent or Couatl of Meso-American myth. Deliberately playing up the noble and mammalian qualities of the Chinese dragon or lung could work. But referring to the zmei brings one fairly directly to 'Slavic dragon'.

So....does one have to deliberately reshape the dragon? Referring to 'wyrm' works because of the closeness to worm, but we may want other terms. You could use something like Serpent-Prince or Lizard-King - though the latter brings us too close to the spectre of the tyrannosaur. Giant Snake is good, but leaves out other properties of the dragon. Perhaps kenning is the way to go: Hoardkeeper, Firetongue, Goldtwiner. 

Are there any additions you would care to make to this list? How can we avoid using the word dragon?

Monday Starts on Saturday

Over December and into Christmas, I read a number of books. One that stood out was Arkady and Boris Strugatsky's Monday Starts on Saturday (the Gollancz Science Fiction Masterworks edition). You may know the Bros. Strugatsky from Roadside Picnic (the inspiration for Stalker) or Hard to be a God; suffice it to say they were authors of science fiction in the Soviet Union in the 1950s and 60s. The constraints of publishing in Russia at that time are interesting and relevant to their work - the SF Masterworks editions of the above have afterwords by Boris Strugatsky detailing their difficulties - however, this isn't quite what I'm here to write about today.

Monday Starts on Saturday is (effectively) three linked novellas that deal with a young programmer who gets drawn into the 'Scientific Research Institute of Sorcery and Wizardry' - which is abbreviated to 'NiiChaVo', a pun on the Russian 'nichero', 'Don't mention it!'. Andrew Bromfield's translation renders this as the National Institute for the Technology of Witchcraft and Thaumaturgy, IE, NITWIT.  With a name like that, you will have grasped that the vein of comedy in Monday Starts on Saturday lies fairly close to the surface. 

Cover of the Gollancz SF Masterworks edition. 
I'm not over-enamoured of it, but it's not unfitting.

What you have is an organisation with somewhat similar responsibilities and power to the titular Laundry of Charles Stross's Laundry Files or the BPRD of Hellboy but, a) seemingly pretty civilian in its applications (this might simply be a matter of focus - Koschei the Deathless is locked up in the basement while prosecutors labour to complete the immense list of charges against him) and b) largely tangled up with it's own problems. At any rate, Monday Starts on Saturday is more a satire of scientific research than a blood-and-thunder adventure. Certain aspects of this passed me by - I didn't pick up on some of the veiled references to Lysenko, even if the general shape of scientific theories agreeable to the governing ideology of the Soviet Union was apparent. 

Apart from all the above, there's a certain air to the mishaps and goings-on of Monday Starts on Saturday. It's something in the vein of the campus or varsity novel - talented, spritely people in a communal setting not always doing much work, having conversations and passing among a fairly mixed group of characters. Even if the tone or setting of the books changes, both Brideshead Revisited and The Secret History serve well in this regard. Lucky Jim is a little too centred on its main character; parts of AS Byatt's Possession may also be worthy of attention. 

I don't suppose that I have to explain the present appeal of this kind of setting, but it did put me in mind of something comedic (in the Classical sense of the word) or pastoral. It's a tone not often evoked, I think, by role-play. There have been very campus-like, academic materials produced: this post on Coins and Scrolls, this post on Against the Wicked City - and one should not forget the Chthonic Codex of Paolo Greco. 

At any rate, it put me in mind of a hibernating project of my own, provisionally if cumbersomely entitled White Hot Sparks from the Crucible of the Enlightenment. There have been a few posts devoted to this, and I have been looking over a few of my old notes (I think there might even be a short story somewhere on a hard drive....). I haven't yet read Skerples's Magical Industrial Revolution (jolly well ought to) but it seems it may cover much of the same ground. 

Monday Starts on Saturday, whatever it may be 'About' or remind me of, is still a worthwhile read. If nothing else, it is a reminder of the stakes that may come from magic even when no-one is threatening you with extinction.

Appian Considered

Some of my reading list is calculated and planned, part of reading reviews and picking up on references or following certain authors. Some of it is pure coincidence. This was a coincidence: I found a Loeb Classical Library edition of the first few books of Appian's Roman History. This is partially fragmentary, particular the early sections dealing with the young Kingdom and Republic. But this volume covers up until the end of what we call the Third Punic War (Appian's terminology differs slightly). Appian was a Greek official, based in Alexandria and a Roman citizen. He lived at least until the reign of the Emperor Trajan.

I'm not going to discuss all the events covered by Appian's history here. You likely know a number of them already, or have some image of them - Hannibal taking his elephants across the Alps and rampaging around the Italian peninsula, Cato the Elder's catchphrase. Instead, I'm going to examine certain elements from Appian and suggest them as world-building elements.

***

Appian is writing in Greek about Romans, Italians, Celts, Iberians, Numidians and Carthaginians. The advantage of the Loeb books is that they present the original text of the work side by side with the translation. Greek has no letter H, Q, V or W and so we see some odd transliterations in the Greek, reproduced below.

'Amilcar [Hamilcar]

'Annibal [Hannibal]

'Asdroubal [Hasdrubal]

Ma'arbal [Maharbal]

Phoulouius Phlakkos [Fulvius Flaccus]

Kointos Pompeios Aulos [Quintus Pompeius Aulus] 

Oualerios [Valerius]

Ouolouski [Volsci].     

For the last two above, consider the pronunciation of the French oui, or the Mexican state of Oaxaca.

A purely coincidental picture of Ralph Fiennes as Coriolanus, 
from a 2011 film adaptation. 

As fun as it may be to wrap your tongue round some of these, pronouncing names differently or using different formulations may be a better tabletop methods for indicating cultural differences than an entire new language or an attempted accent (my Peter Lorre or Humphrey Bogart might be pretty good, but do you want an entire city full of Bogarts?). Hasbrubal can become Asdroubal, just as Solomon can become Suleiman, or Thor can become Thunor can become Donner. Saint Ottoline can become the Blessed Ottoline, or Holy-most Ottoline or Ottoline Beata.

Wikipedia's Names for Germany is an interesting example of intersecting language groups, and rewards study.

***

The Saguntines, when they despaired of help from Rome, and when famine weighed heavily upon them, and Hannibal kept up the siege without intermission (for he had heard that the city was very prosperous and wealthy, and for this reason relaxed not the siege), issued an edict to bring all the silver and gold, public and private, to the forum, where they melted it with lead and brass, so that it should be useless to Hannibal.

The Wars in Spain, 2.12

As you can imagine, Hannibal reacted badly to this. But the notion of an opponent trying to ditch or spoil their treasure is arresting. If Our Heroes have blazed through the Platinum Immortals of the Supreme Syndic far quicker than the GM might reasonably predicted, discovering that an objective is imperilled keeps the action meaningful. Of course, paper money, share certificates, top-secret dossiers and tomes of eldritch lore can all be burnt. But the danger of hot crucibles and the haste of loot-hungry adventurers has a certain high drama to it.

***

At the end of the year, Fabius Maximus Servilianus, the brother of Aemilianus, came to succeed Quintus in the command, bringing two new legions from Rome and some allies, so that his forces altogether amounted to about 18,000 foot and 1,600 horse. He wrote to Micipsa, king of the Numidians, to send him some elephants as speedily as possible. As he was hastening to Itucca with his army in divisions, Viriathus attacked him with 6,000 troops with great noise and barbaric clamour, and wearing the long hair which in battles they are accustomed to shake in order to terrify their enemies, but he was not dismayed. He stood his ground bravely, and the enemy was driven off without accomplishing anything.

The Wars in Spain, 12.67

Images of long-haired barbarians and Romans with sensible short-back-and-sides isn't really anything new, but the impression Appian gives us of hair as a form of psychological warfare is quite fun.

***

This victory raised the spirits of the Romans, but the next night they were seized with panic. A body of the enemy's horse who had gone out foraging before Lucullus arrived, returned and not finding any entrance to the city because it was surrounded by the besiegers, ran about shouting and creating disturbance while those inside the walls shouted back. These noises caused strange terror in the Roman camp. Their soldiers were sick from want of sleep, and because of the unaccustomed food which the country afforded. They had no wine, no salt, no vinegar, no oil, but lived on wheat and barley, and the flesh of deer and rabbits boiled without salt, which caused dysentery, from which many died.

The Wars in Spain, 9.54

Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake. The notion of dysentery ravaging the armies of the classical and medieval worlds is probably not new to you, but here is a fine example of it. The passage is also a reminder of the necessity of things like salt. While it may be that a game renders food as one element alone('Rations', 'Elven waybread'), here's a reminder of the necessity of a varied diet.

***

Fetial priests appear in Appian as part of the negotiations in sieges, or dealing with the various embassies from Celtic nations or Carthage. Livy describes parts of fetial ceremonies:

Then the Pater Patratus, who is constituted for the purpose of giving the treaty the religious sanction of an oath, did so by a long formula in verse, which it is not worth while to quote. After reciting the conditions he said: "Hear, O Jupiter, hear! thou Pater Patratus of the people of Alba! Hear ye, too, people of Alba! As these conditions have been publicly rehearsed from first to last, from these tablets, in perfect good faith, and inasmuch as they have here and now been most clearly understood, so these conditions the People of Rome will not be the first to go back from. If they shall, in their national council, with false and malicious intent be the first to go back, then do thou, Jupiter, on that day, so smite the People of Rome, even as I here and now shall smite this swine, and smite them so much the more heavily, as thou art greater in power and might." With these words he struck the swine with a flint. 

Livy, History of Rome, 1.24

In order, therefore, that wars might be not only conducted but also proclaimed with some formality, he wrote down the law, as taken from the ancient nation of the Aequicoli, under which the Fetials act down to this day when seeking redress for injuries. The procedure is as follows: -

The ambassador binds his head in a woollen fillet. When he has reached the frontiers of the nation from whom satisfaction is demanded, he says, "Hear, O Jupiter! Hear, ye confines" - naming the particular nation whose they are - "Hear, O Justice! I am the public herald of the Roman People. Rightly and duly authorised do I come; let confidence be placed in my words." Then he recites the terms of the demands, and calls Jupiter to witness: "If I am demanding the surrender of those men or those goods, contrary to justice and religion, suffer me nevermore to enjoy my native land." He repeats these words as he crosses the frontier, he repeats them to whoever happens to be the first person he meets, he repeats them as he enters the gates and again on entering the forum, with some slight changes in the wording of the formula. If what he demands are not surrendered at the expiration of thirty-three days - for that is the fixed period of grace - he declares war in the following terms: "Hear, O Jupiter, and thou Janus Quirinus, and all ye heavenly gods, and ye, gods of earth and of the lower world, hear me! I call you to witness that this people" - mentioning it by name - "is unjust and does not fulfil its sacred obligations. But about these matters we must consult the elders in our own land in what way we may obtain our rights." 

With these words the ambassador returned to Rome for consultation. The king forthwith consulted the senate in words to the following effect: "Concerning the matters, suits, and causes, whereof the Pater Patratus of the Roman People and Quirites hath complained to the Pater Patratus of the Prisci Latini, and to the people of the Prisci Latini, which matters they were bound severally to surrender, discharge, and make good, whereas they have done none of these things - say, what is your opinion?" He whose opinion was first asked, replied, "I am of opinion that they ought to be recovered by a just and righteous war, wherefore I give my consent and vote for it." Then the others were asked in order, and when the majority of those present declared themselves of the same opinion, war was agreed upon. It was customary for the Fetial to carry to the enemies' frontiers a blood-smeared spear tipped with iron or burnt at the end, and, in the presence of at least three adults, to say, "Inasmuch as the peoples of the Prisci Latini have been guilty of wrong against the People of Rome and the Quirites, and inasmuch as the People of Rome and the Quirites have ordered that there be war with the Prisci Latini, and the Senate of the People of Rome and the Quirites have determined and decreed that there shall be war with the Prisci Latini, therefore I and the People of Rome, declare and make war upon the peoples of the Prisci Latini." With these words he hurled his spear into their territory. This was the way in which at that time satisfaction was demanded from the Latins and war declared, and posterity adopted the custom.

Livy, 1.32

Appian has the lack of a fetial serve as an indicator of implacability.

While Pontius was speaking the old man burst into tears, then seated himself in his carriage and went back to Caudium. Pontius then summoned the Roman envoys and asked them if they had any fetial priest with them. There was none present because the army had marched to undertake an irreconcilable, implacable war. 

Appian, The Samnite History

There's a few things I would take from this. Firstly, that even if a modern reader might know not to expect the 'separation of church and state', it is still possible to underestimate the extent to which religion and state power entwined. (A timely reminder that Julius Caesar and the Emperors were also Pontifex Maximus). A bishop can be seen as advising a king, still somehow a third party - he's not the Chancellor (though a Cardinal might be...), or the Grand Marshal. Even given that we are seeing a 'polished-up' account of the fetials, they still seem to have a distinct place within the state apparatus.

Secondly, that there is quite a lot about Rome that hearkens back to the laws and mores of an individual city-state. Even if we can associate it with progress and the march of history (Classical architecture = Enlightenment, Classical architecture = Rome, Rome = Enlightenment, 'What have the Romans ever done for us', &c), that's not always something that holds terribly true. This scene (an image of which is below) from the HBO series Rome, with its images of blood sacrifice, face-painting, staring dragon totems, eerie hooting trumpets and public execution is a relevant counter. Having a fantasy Rome equivalent have its legions with as many charms and streaks of warpaint as the stereotyped warrior of the Great Plains would not be inappropriate.

(Looking up certain Roman priesthoods and festivals - the Flamens, the Salii, Lupercalia - may be helpful.)

Thirdly, the image of the priest as an envoy is an arresting one. The image of priest as peacemaker - Friar Lawrence in Romeo and Juliet - is hardly new, but having a cleric at the tabletop with very specific powers to oversee oaths or to sanctify action is interesting. It's an image of a cleric as a Charisma-based 'face' character which could be an interesting variation. A use of Abjuration or Mental spells schools would be apt, though some adaptation may be necessary.