Anamnesis ex Reddit

A one-shot played using Anamnesis. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

The shadow and minor arcana cards for this game were drawn and posted on Reddit as part of a group game. I drew the major arcana for each prompt from my Thoth deck and added the names of the minor arcana (though didn't really integrate them consistently into the scenes).

Shadow Card: Death

Act 1

My eyes open to brilliant golden light and for time immeasurable the light is all that I can see, all that I am. Slowly, creeping in from the edges of my perceptions, the world gathers itself around me as the glorious light recedes. I am standing in a narrow alleyway, dusty clay bricks build uneven walls either side of me, a dry earthen path leads ahead and behind, and the hustle and bustle of a busy marketplace can be heard ahead. As the disorientation passes I realise, with curiosity that I don't know where I am. This quickly gives way to a more concerning realisation that I don't know who I am. The sun hangs high in the sky above me and I take a moment to consider.

1. The Magus & King of Pentacles

I feel the weight of something in my hands. Glancing down I see that both hands are wrapped around the shaft of some kind of sceptre, the contoured surface feels right in my grip as if it had been made for me to hold. The head is ornate and shaped to resemble something akin to a blossoming flower or a dancing flame. Perhaps something in between? The sceptre is heavy, not just with the weight of the golden metal, but also with the authority I sense it grants me. This is symbol of power, my power, and I feel it pulsing through every fibre of my being. It's balance is true, I hold it out in one hand and it is easy to wield. It doesn't feel like a weapon, my instincts recoil from that use, instead I sense this is a badge of office that marks the bearer with some hidden significance. I bring it close to my face and turn it over in my hands, scrutinsing the surface for clues. I think I can make out a faint cursive script spiralling around the shaft, but it is etched so softly that it is merely a whisper on metal. It evades my attempts to read it and I must accept, for now, that there are still some secrets beyond my reach.

0. The Fool & Queen of Pentacles

Reluctantly drawing my attention away from the sceptre, I take in my surroundings. Everything here is coarse and harsh, the colours and shapes strain my eyes to behold; the distant market sounds grate on my nerves as the raucous din refuses to achieve harmony; beneath my bare feet the ground is dry and unyielding, my feet already begin to ache and the earth is hot under the noonday sun. Even my body, charged with vitality as it is, feels untested and uncertain. Or perhaps the uncertainty is my own, I have yet to test its capabilities and limits. I turn several times on the spot, both to take in my environment and to test my own balance. My body moves with a fluid grace that makes me think of music, was I - am I - a dancer? I bend to press a palm against the baking ground and deny the urge to flinch as the heat sears me. I lift my hand slowly only when I am satisfied that I have experience the heat and the pain enough to learn something of my limits. This world will not bow before me and my presence here will inevitably cause me harm, but I feel that this is also in some way the reason that I am here.

9. The Hermit & Two of Pentacles "Change"

The only slight reprieve from this rough world is the cool and gentle sensation across my body, I feel a silken cloth wrapped about me in a complex arrangement. I reassure myself that this is not a shroud, that I am not dead, I feel too alive for this to be the case. The silk is voluminous and conceals my form easily, a length of it even coming up to cover my head and cast my face is shadow. I could pass unrecognised if I chose, though I suspect the richness of the fabric itself would draw attention. I pull the cloth about me jealously, as I fearing someone will take it from me. Extending an arm I appreciate the depth of the blue and green pattern, a series of interlocking rings almost entirely cover a black backdrop. As I allow my eyes to wander over the fabric I think I can see ripples flowing over the surface, despite the lack of breeze in the alley. The inky void behind the rings hints at some deeper lore thatm like almost everything, refuses to share its secrets with me. I bring the sceptre into its folds, cloaking its light temporarily, and carefully walk the length of the alley ahead.

Act 2

I emerge from the narrow canal of the alleyway into the life and activity of the marketplace. The broad plaza, with its mezzanines and recesses, is a sea of brightly coloured awnings and a cacophony of voices competing to be heard. I stand for a moment, bolstering myself with my inner reserves to withstand the tide sensations, and then plunge head first into the crowd. Seeing tall buildings on the far side of the market, I carve a path towards them, something about them tugs at my mind.

21. The Universe & Six of Swords "Science"

As I push through the market I start to attract attention and I realise that I stand at least a head taller than anyone else in the crowd. I hear voices, first indignant poeple I've cleared from my path, and then trailing behind me curious voices wondering at the tall stranger in their midst. I'm halfway across the plaza when they start to notice specific details, the style of my silken garment, glimpses of the sceptre within its folds, and perhaps even my regal gait. Just outside of my comprehension I hear a word repeated that escapes my grasp. I can't slow my pace, my momentum carries me inevitably towards my goal, but I strain to hear the word and understand its significance. I press on through the crowd as they whisper about the past, old powers, and things thought lost to a nameless doom. I know in the pit of my stomach that the word that continues to elude is my own name. As much as my inner drive urges me to reach my goal, the threat of hearing my name clearly repels me from where I have already been.

18. The Moon & Queen of Swords

I step off of the plaza onto a boulevard lined with date trees and tall buildings with deeply recessed windows and doorways. I see few people as I make my way along, appreciating the shade the trees provide, and those I do see look well-appointed and concerned more with their own affairs than speculating on those of others. One building in particular catches my attention and I find my pace slowing and then halting outside the arched entrance. The sides of the arch are carved, each from a single piece of sandstone, to resemble a pair of date trees bowing to touch at the top of the arch. I know I have passed beneath this arch many times and in my mind's eye I see the shaded courtyard beyond, the ornately tiled fountain at its centre, and the figures that meet there to share rumours. I understand that I shared many secrets here, and kept at least as many back for my own purposes. I hear the echoed lore I gained here, the knowledge beguiling me enough to want to step through the archway now. I catch myself as I am directly under the arch and pull myself free from memory's grip, telling myself that it isn't really memory that beckons to me but something else. Something I would gain no benefit from returning to.

1. The Magus & Ace of Swords

I spend the rest of the day striding purposefully through the streets, not knowing my destination and suspecting my path is overly complex and circuitous, but nonetheless knowing in my heart that this is the path that I must take. I pass through the alleys between the workshops of the potters and stonemasons, hearing the trundle of wheels and the chipping of stone, smelling baking clay and the exertion of labour, catching glimpses of bright glazes and pristine slabs of stone. I cross the open plaza of fountains where the older women gather water, wash clothes, and watch the children. I hear the splashing of water, the slap of wet cloth on stone, and laughter - the high voices of children at play and the raucous laughter of the women as they work. As I pass the temples I smell clashing scents of incense, fresh fruit and flowers, and the coppery smell of blood. I hear many voices and languages and prayers, all reaching upward to the same heavens. This place is complicated and varied, it has many facets and many centres of importance - of power - for the people who live here. My journey is nearing an end as my bare feet trace the final length of the sigil my path has drawn across the city. A tall house stands before me, apart from the surrounding buildings which seem to draw back from it to keep it at a respectable distance.

Act 3

The building is tall, narrow, and twisted; gently spiralling a few degrees with each of its many levels. It reaches up to the firmament like a gnarled staff driven into the earth. The construction is sandstone blocks, like the surrounding street, but complemented with exposed and weathered wooden beams and window frames. Each of the narrow windows is tightly shuttered and gives away no clues at to what they conceal. The front door, up a short flight of steps, is painted a worn and flecked shade of purple. Faint chalk markings run along and up the steps before flowing up over the surface of the door. With an unwavering hand I touch the outline on the arch softly and feel a stirring of memory and power. I hear a dry and stiff creak as the door opens inwards and I without hesitation I step forward into my house.

16. The Tower & Five of Cups "Disappointment"

I walk the halls and rooms of the house, the walls looming over me as they reach up to the vaulted ceilings, searching for any trace of my life. The rooms are almost bare, minimally decorated and the furniture covered with musty sheets. I push open the shutters of each window I pass, slowly filling the house with daylight. Midway up the house I find the first of the notes, a scrap of paper torn along one edge, hastily scrawled words spilling off. As I progress I find more, increasingly more legible and increasingly more manic. Some are reminders to complete mundane tasks, excruciating in their precision. Others are lists of obscure ingredients and materials for unknown purposes. The paper varies, sometimes notepaper, sometimes pages torn from printed books and written over. The handwriting is the same across them all and I confess to the empty stairway that I am afraid to annotate them for it will confirm that they are written in my own hand. By the time I have swept the lower two thirds of the house, I have assembled enough notes to see that I was obsessed. Obsessed with the accumulation of arcane knowledge, first for it's own sake, and then for some greater purpose that the notes only alluded to. Nowhere in the notes could I find humility, restraint, or a recognition of my limits.

21. The Universe & Ten of Cups "Satiety"

I reach the uppermost floor of the house; the study dominated by my vast wooden desk and high-backed leather chair. I run my hands across the surface of the desk, savouring the warmth of the well-oiled wood and the voiceless memories it stirs inside me. I venture to the far side, sliding the chair away, reluctant to take my seat behind the desk. That feels too much like taking ownership of the identity of the person who lived here, and I am not yet certain I want to do that. My hands find the drawers, either locked or jammed, they no longer cooperate with me. All except one which glides so easily I feel like little more than an accomplice to it's opening. The sole occupant is a small volume I recognise as my journal, where I kept meticulous notes of my research. The now-open shutters allow light to shine across the desk where I gently set down the journal. I notice a faint tremor in my hand as I open the cover and turn to the latest entry. As I turn the pages I see iterations of diagrams and rituals, a slow but steady development of ideas, and on the final page its blossoming. A working to achieve apotheosis via descent into the entropic sub-realms. A dangerous rite but one that could yield great benefits. Or perhaps it already had?

10. Fortune & Queen of Cups

I push the journal across the desk, I've taken in so much information since the alleyway and my mind reels under the weight. As I move to push the drawer shut, something catches my eye. The journal wasn't the only thing in the drawer after all, I frown, the memories are new but I was certain this drawer was solely for the research journal. I carefully extract a wide and narrow folio tied shut with a sun-faded ribbon. The cover is plain, and gives away nothing of it's contents. As my fingers close on the ribbon I feel my hand freeze, it takes concerted effort to pull the ribbon's binding loose and open the folio. Parchments flows from the folio across the desk, dozens of faces stare up at me, or rather dozens of copies of the same face for clearly I had only one subject who I drew repeatedly. In one sketch his face is in profile; tousled hair tied back carelessly, one stout hand resting idly against an equally robust chin, a rounded nose wrinkled slightly as if in distaste. In another the subject stares directly at me; his broad face dominated by an intense pair of eyes that smoulder from beneath heavy brows. A mouth not accustomed to smiling yields to a slight curve, and I feel a tantalising shiver play up and down my spine. Other images are more candid, some so initmate that I feel heat rising to my face. The studies of my subject's hands suggest someone who has toiled for many years, while the settings where he is at repose hint at a more luxurious lifestyle. I surmise he posed here in my house and wonder how open we were in our relationship.

Act 4

I cross the room to the window and sit beneath it, back against the wall and legs folded beneath me. The fragments of memory are assembling, shards catch the light and dazzle me, jagged edges cause me to recoil from their touch. I feel myself drift back and forth through scenes from my past, reliving moments without context, one in particular keeps returning no matter how much I try to push it away.

6. The Lovers & Knight of Wands

I set down my charcoal and look up from the image that is taking form on the page. My subject, the man from all of my artwork, has turned to face me and his previously detached gaze has become a scowl. The light and shadows that took so long to capture on the page are lost and I sigh. In that exhalation he hears something unintended and the old conversation begins anew. He speaks dismissively of my work, the great project of enlightenment I have dedicated myself to, and I begin to bristle. Seeing this aggravates him further and he edges ever closer to the unspoken ultimatum that has hovered over us for months. One day he will ask me to choose between him and the work and I sense the inevitable heartbreak it will cause us both. With distance, and repetition, I see past the confrontational tone and the casual disrespect, I see the rejection he feels when I speak of stepping beyond and seeking apotheosis. In his words I hear the silent question - what will happen when I go where he cannot follow? I set down my work and walk form the room, his voice echoing after me as I make my way down to the lowest room of the house, the secret laboratory secluded in the foundations.

19. The Sun & Ten of Wands "Oppression"

I drag myself away from the memory and out of my introspection. I haul myself to my feet and turn to look out the window, the fading heat of the setting sun warm against my face. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing until I am confident that the tears on my face have dried. I walk slowly, uncertainly, down the stairs and effortlessly, helplessly, find the hidden door in the entrance hall. It slides open and sepulchral air hisses free, the narrow stairs beckon to me. I make my way down, my hand on the wall to steady me, when I reach the laboratory I fall to the ground. He's here. Or he was here. His body lies immobile and empty on the floor in the centre of the crudely drawn circle of symbols. I can't take my eyes off of him, but even with my peripheral vision I can see that he's used an earlier version of the schematic, one that I'd long since discarded as unfit. I must have forgotten to properly destroy it, in my hubris I must have failed to even comprehend that someeone else could grasp it enough to use it. I should have shared the work with him. This journey should not have been for me alone, we should have stepped across the boundary together, hand in hand. The tears have resumed and this time I make no attempt to stem their flow.

13. Death & Prince of Wands

I set down the sceptre, undeserving of the authority of conveys. I have failed my lover and my great work and amends must be made. I stride to the work bench and select the chalks and oils I will need to draw the correct form of the circle around us both. Now that I am set to my task I find myself unable to look directly at him, my shame is too great. Once the circle is ready I ignite the censers and sit in patient silence as the smoke fills the room, wrapping us both in a hazy shroud. I begin to intone the syllables of the incantation of descent, the entropic sub-realms are an unforgiving place (or absence of place to be pedantic) and I know that I must be swift. I will descend, find him there, and then we will both ascend. Ascend to this world and then beyond to the true culmination of the great work.

Emson 1

A series played using Starfarer from the Calypso Compendium. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Explore the universe in search of refuge.

Emson

• Explorer (Improvise, Leap, Lucky, Spot)
• Future human (Attractive, Educated, Healthy, Trivia)
• Off-worlder (Barter, Loyal, Mine, Scavenge)
• Social (Charm, Empathise, Recall, Secret)
• Key of the Daredevil (take unnecessary risks)
• Key of the Impulsive (act on instinct or impulse)
• Secret of the Hidden Ace (surprise element; 4+ means it betrays)
• Secret of the Legend (Social +1, trait cap is 5)

Prospector, trader, scavenger, thief. She's many things, and an heiresson the run. She's reckless at times but always comes through with connections or improvisation.

Emson, or Lady Emson Niskanen of Robos IV, sits across the table from her fence and wonders which of them will shoot first. Baen has been augmented with additional cybernetic limbs that could be wielding addtional firearms. She keeps both of her, completely organic, hands on the table in front of her, the idol she's trying to sell rests between them. It's a small stone egg that she... "excavated" on a trip to a frontier planet; harmless enough but Baen's reaction suggests this could be the start of a very bad day.

She decides to start soft, reminding Baen of their long history to lower his defences. 2d6 + Social + Charm + Empathise + Recall = 3 + 2 + 2 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 10. Gain 3 currency "Rapport." Baen visibly relaxes and raises his original hands above the desk in gesture of trust. His new hands stay out of sight, so she can't relax just yet. She recognises a look on Baen's face, guilt, that doesn't fill her with confidence.

"You ratted me out to the Arbiters?" Emson's diction could cut glass, all sharp and as cold as ice. Baen sweats and tries to stammer out a reply before falling silent. Spending 1 "Rapport" to get the truth out of him. "Em, you've got to believe me" Baen mutters, unable to make eye contact, "I have to keep the legit front going, and I can't do that with the law all over me." Emson idly rolls the idol back and forth between her hands, the weight feels satisfying as it rumbles to and fro.

"How much time do we have?" Emson chooses her words carefully. If the Arbiters were coming in force, she'd know by now, but it's always good to know what timeframe she has to work with for an exit strategy. Spending 1 "Rapport" to get an honest answer. Baen hems and haws before Emson's glare causes the words to spill out of his mouth. "Ah, I've not given specifics, just the notes. They don't know when we're meeting or where to find you. They're just keeping tabs on me..." Baen trails off and his eyes widen as he realises the implications. Emson rises to her feet and crosses to the window where she peers through the blinds. 2d6 + Explorer + Spot = 5 + 3 + 1 + 1 = 10. Gain 2 currency "Countdown to Cops."

The coast is clear for now, but its only a matter of time before there are Arbiters kicking the door open. Emson weighs her options and decides to cut and run. The idol isn't valuable enough to worry about so she pushes it across the desk to Baen. "Do me a favour and stall them for as long as you can." Baen seizes the idol in his organic hands and rises to his feet. Emson notes that while his guns are still holstered, his cybernetic hands had been on the grips of the pair of pistols he always wore. Spending 1 "Rapport" to secure Baen's compliance. Baen nods, tucking the idol into his jacket, "I'll keep them busy, one way or another."

Emson climbs up onto the desk and reaches for the hatch in the ceiling, roof access is a good start. 2d6 + Explorer + Improvise + Lucky = 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 7. The hatch has a lock that requires some creative work to bypass, but once its open Emson hauls herself into the maintenance ducts. She hears Baen seal the hatch behind her and begins her long crawl upward to the roof. The sound of Arbiters breaking into Baen's office is muffled but its clear that he won't be able to talk them down.

Emson can't risk calling up a schematic of the building, that would require net access, a signal that could be traced. Instead she relies on instinct and fortune to guide her. 2d6 + Explorer + Improvise + Lucky = 6 + 4 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 13. Gain condition "Fortune's Favour." After what feels like an eternity of crawling through the dark, cramped tunnels of the service ducts, she reaches an opening above her. Light can be glimpsed from an upper branch of the duct network.

She pats her pockets for inspiration (using Hidden Ace to gain a tool; 1d6 = 5, it will betray her) and finds her mag-grapel - she thought she'd left that in her other coat. Pulling it free, she rolls onto her back to take aim up the shaft above. With the line in place, she begins to inexorably haul herself upward. 2d6 + Future human + Athletic + Mag-grapel = 5 + 2 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 10. +2 forward to next roll. She makes short work of the climb, but finds her mag-grapel stuck fast inside a join connecting two sections of duct. Cursing under her breath, she turns and heads for the light at the end of the upper duct.

The light is coming from the side of a metal grille. Pressing against itto feel for a way to open it, Emson realises that she'll need to force it. Spending 1 "Countdown to Cops" to break out of the ducts. Out on the roof she hears the sound of sirens from below, the Arbiters are on the scene. It won't be long before the ground forces ae combing the street and air support won't be far away. She scans the adjacent buildings for potential exits. 2d6 + Explorer + Spot + Fortune's favour + 2 forward = 5 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 2 = 15. +2 forward to next roll.

Emson sights a walkway on the next building which leads to an open doorway. It's a nondescript structure so there's no telling what's inside, but it must be better than leaving in custody. She gets a running start before vaulting for the walkway... 2d6 + Explorer + Leap + 2 forward = 1 + 1 + 1 + 1+ 2 = 6 ...before realising that she's misjudged the distance. I'm going to spend 1 "Countdown to Cops" to mitigate. She barely catches the edge of the walkway, straining to pull herself up onto it. She hears the thrum of the Arbiters' flyers above and scrambles for the doorway.

To be continued...

Vaugr 1

A series played using Fantastic Journey from the Calypso Compendium. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Explore a wondrous realm in search of sanctuary.

Vaugr

• Nimble (Acrobatic, Fast, Pilfer, Swordplay)
• Non-Human (Change self, Fly, Huge, Keen senses)
• Social (Cold read, Fast talk, Perform, Small talk)
• Strong (Athletic, Brawl, Force, Swordplay)
• Key of the Adventurous (experience something new)
• Key of Chaos (take risks to break rules)
• Secret of the Candle (+1 Strong per harm taken)
• Secret of Superiority (Nimble has a +5 cap)

A cloud giant sorcerer and swordsman; cunning of spell, blade, and word. Sees rules as inconveniences and tends to take risks in the pursuit of new knowledge.

Vaugr's story begins with his exile from the court of Bleyn, queen of the giants. A series of stunts, pranks, and intrigues finally resulted in him being stripped of his titles and roles as court under-librarian. He has a leather satchel that holds his lyre, his blade (in its extradimensional scabbard), and a few manuscripts that he was able to smuggle out of the library.

He's following the Queen's Highway, the road that passses through all of the known realms, so he's sure it will eventually grow tiresome and he'll try exploring the unknown realms. For now, however, he's satisfied to be on the road and reaching the sights not normally visible from the palace. The rolling hills are coated in lush green grass and the path is lined with apple trees; the fruit hanging temptingly low. Vaugr misses the rich and luxurious banquets of the court, but manages to stay his hand for the moment.

By the time the sun is beginning to set he feels that he's made good progress for the day and starts to look for a place to set up camp. As the road curves to the left, a ruined structure comes into view on a hill roughly fifty metres from the roadside. In the fading evening light he glimpses a flickering light, perhaps the campfire of another soul wandering the road?

Vaugr hums a few bars of a melody to conceal his true form and identity. 2d6 + Non-human + Change self = 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 = 11. Gain the condition "Disguised." He shrinks in size and his skin  wrinkles as he takes on the form of an elderly man, dressed in rags, and generally carrying air of being a wandering beggar. Confident in his disguise, he hobbles his way towards the ruins.

Up close it becomes clear that this was once a tower of some sort, maybe an ancient outpost from the expansion of Bleyn's realm. Once, many such towers lined the paths and borders of a mighty empire, now it has turned inward and become insular. The hinterlands had become lawless, while the centre had become obsessed with its own past glories. That the ruin had withstood the generations of neglect was a testament to all that they had lost.

Now that he's closer he sees that it wasn't a campfire, instead he sees that it has a more supernatural origin. A cluster of orbs of eldritch green light dances across the tower floor, their hues and brightness shifting as they move. Vaugr has heard of spirits that lure unsuspecting travellers to their death, and wonders if perhaps these are such spirits. He stills his thoughts and listens with his heart. 2d6 + Non-human + Keen senses = 6 + 5 + 1 + 1 = 13. Gain 3 currency "Detect Magic."

He feels the threads of fate that bind all things together and to the world. A skilled hand could strum these strings and bend creation to their will, but Vaugr is a more cautious musician. He gently runs his fingertips over the threads of the spirits, seeking knowledge of the name of this type of entity. Spending 1 "Detect Magic" to learn the name "Isead." He recognises the name faintly from an ancient taxonomy, but from the branch pertaining to curses, not spirits.

Perhaps sensing Vaugr's scrutiny the lights begin to coalesce, their brightness flaring with what looks like anger. The pulsating beacon starts to take on a humanoid form, limbs and a head emerging from the central mass as it enlarges into a torso. It turns to "face" Vaugr and the light intensifies until its almost blinding. A harsh, guttural voice issues forth a challenge in an ancient dialect. Vaugr tries to bluff the entity by acting the part of an old man looking for shelter. 2d6 + Social + Fast talk + Perform + Disguised = 5 + 4 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 13. Gives the entity the condition "Deceived."

Vaugr successfully convinces the entity that he is not a threat; its light dims and resumes its previous fluctuating pattern, maintaining its form. Vaugr focuses on the name Isead and tries to plumb deeper. Spending 1 "Detect Magic" to learn what an Isead is. These lights aren't spirits, they are the residual imprint of an ancient curse. Vaugr's intuition fills in the gaps in his memory as he pieces together the truth of the situation. Long ago a powerful curse was laid upon the inhabitants of the tower, their souls bound to the ruin but over time have been eroded and merged into the fabric of the curse itself.

Vaugr doesn't know why the curse was laid but can't stand by and watch this situation perpetuate itself. But first, does the scrutiny damage either of the two conditions? 1d6 = 5. Yes. Odds its "Disguised," evens its "Deceived." 1d6 = 6. The deception is slipping. The luminous figure observes Vaugr closely, it accepts the appearance of an old man but not necessarily a trustworthy old man. It keesp its distance but stays in Vaugr's line of sight as he explores the ruins further.

Vaugr slowly paces the perimeter of the outer wall, now just a trail of rubble. There are no immediate indicators of further enchantment, so he moves to the taller ruined walls and what appears to be a central well. The rim of the well is carved with symbols, some of which appear more worn than others. Spending 1 "Detect Magic" to read the symbols. Vaugr's eyes trace the symbols; most refer to spells to preserve and purify the water, both as a source of drinking water and as a conduit for natural magic to reach the surface. However, the mangic-cleansing symbols have been marred to the extent that they could be the reason why the Isead formed.

Vaugr now knows enough to be prompted to take action. This corrupted curse has lingered past any need for punishment and it has unwittingly trapped souls within it. He remembers enough scraps of lore to feel confident in attempting to undo the curse laid upon the tower. Thsi will be difficult, he must work carefully to avoid angering the Isead. 2d6 + Social + Perform = 2 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 5. Gain 1 currency "Building Power." The Isead flares into hostile action, its light growing to an incandescent blaze, the weight of its power bears down upon Vaugr and holds him in place.

Vaugr decides the time for subtlety is over; the throws off the enchantment disguising him and harnessess the release of power to boost his curse-breaking ritual. 2d6 + Social + Perform + lost condition = 5 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 11. Take +2 forward. The burst of energy gives him the freedom to continue the ritual. 2d6 + Social + Perform + 2 forward = 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 = 13. Gain 1 currency "Building Power" (new total 2).

Oracle Question: How many Building Power points will it take to break the curse? 1d6 = 4. Okay, halfway there!

Vaugr is uncloaked and a corona of power is building around him. He feels the curse beginning to give way, but its not over yet. He switches tactics, he draws his sword to channel his power and executes a swift, complex series of movements to deliver power in precise strikes. 2d6 + Nimble + Acrobatic + Fast + Swordplay = 6 + 4 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 13. Gain 3 currency "Building Power" (new total 5). Vaugr moves like a blur of arcane power, striking the Isead's curse at key points to sever its ties to the corrupted wellspring. The Isead's humanoid form, still too bright to look at directly, fragments into hundreds of motes of light.

They dance across Vaugr's field of vision before slowly drifting upward to fill the night sky like a second firmament. He watches as they take their places among the existing stars, satisifed that the overstaid curse has ended and the trapped souls are freed. He turns back to face the road, contemplating his next destination. 2d6 + Non-human + Keen senses = 3 + 3 + 1 + 1 = 8. He fails to notice an even newer star falling towards him.

To be continued...

Prudence Barrow 1

A series played using Vampire: The Masquerade 20th Anniversary Edition. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Prudence Barrow, Nosferatu Antitribu and longstanding member of the Sabbat, has just survived being led into an ambush.The only other survivor is Erasmus, their pack priest. Unfortunately he's a Malkavian and he's not handling the trauma well, he's been in a fugue state and had to be towed back to the van. Prudence relishes an opportunity to suffer performatively and can't bear to see others suffer (out of compassion mixed with jealousy). She hauls Erasmus to the black van where her ghouls wait.

Strength + Athletics (4) = 3 successes.

Frances, a sturdy if ill-tempered woman who has served as a ghoul for most of Prudence's inlife, steps out fo the van to grab an arm. Together they bundle Erasmus into the van and slam the doors shut behind them. Gautier, her wily but frail ghoul, floors it and the windowless van peels away into the waning night.

Did Prudence spot the ambush?

Perception + Awareness (3) = 0 successes.

She walked in just as oblivious as the rest of the pack. They'd been drawn in by the promise of lore; Erasmus had been granted a vision from the beyond and was keen to verify if an ancient was indeed buried in the field outside the city limits. The pack assumed the location was too isolated to attract Kindred rivals, while also too close to the city for the lupines. Unfortunately, they'd been wrong on the latter count; before they'd even got the shovels ready the wolves had materialised and the carnage began.

How quickly did Prudence react to the ambush?

Wits + Awareness with specialty (6) = 4 successes.

Once the lupines were upon them, Prudence's reflexes kicked in and she was racing back toward the exit. She nimbly evaded the claws of one of the nearby werewolves, the dagger-tipped digits opening the neck of their erstwhile misson leader. The Brujah Antitribu had been trying to use celerity to speed past, but their speed merely increased the spread of the spray of vitae as it erupted from his neck. Prudence kept her head low and broke into a low sprint, focusing to keep ther Beast in check.

Instinct (1) = 1 success.

Her fear is palpable but she knows that survival is a must. Yes, loyalty is also important, but this conflict was over as soon as it began. Prudence tries to think of this as loyalty to her ghouls and the greater Sabbat.

Path (5) = 3 successes.

In the heat of the moment she is able to hold on to her convictions and takes the opportunity to grab Erasmus as she flees. The priest was crouched over the head of the Brujah, having snatched it out of the air after it was torn free. Erasmus was whispering in its ear, pleading for advice on how to proceed in light of this new obstacle. He offered little resistance to Prudence grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hauling him away from the ongoing massacre.

Are the lupines pursuing the van?

1d6 = 1. No and... they were opportunistic as opposed to actively stalking them prior to the attack.

As Gautier drives into the encroaching dawn he checks for pursuers non-stop. It doesn't look like the wolves are following them, but Prudence is all too aware of their tricks. She doesn't let Gautier ease up until the van is back at the rental garage, luckily just in time as the dawn is compelling Prudence and Erasmus into sleep. Prudence orders Gautier and Frances to take shifts on watch and then slips into daysleep.

The following evening she rises to find Erasmus deep in prayer, this is one of his nightly routines so Prudence tales some comfort in seeing this. She bides her time until he's finished before broaching the topic of next moves. She won't be bringing up the previous night until she's more certain of his mental state.

To be continued...

Shudder-inducing Showdown at the Shack of... Shecrets?

A one-shot played using Green & Unpleasant Land by The Gemfish. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

I was drawing a bit of a blank when answering the prompts, so I decided to draw a tarot card for each one to provide some guidance.

I am Augustin Bischof, a member of a shadowy group of hunters dedicated to protecting humanity from dangerous supernatural forces. I'm sitting in a remote shack outside Falkenhagen, both barrels of my shotgun are loaded and pointed at the door. I await the arrival of my colleague and mentor, Ludwig Schönberger who may have fallen prey to the very powers that we once fought against together.

Hour 1 (Threat: 3)

I remember when you found me, alone in the ruins of that old house, my hands dusty with the chalk I'd drawn the complex, if shaky, sigils with. You appraised my work in silence as I remained in a tense crouch, unsure whether to flee or confront you. After moments that felt like hours, you quietly complimented my handiwork and enquired as to my purposes. I knew in that moment that how I answered would determine how much longer I'd have to live, and decided to be honest that I was a mere dabbler and explorer. I think that combination of naivete and raw talent is what led you take me on as your apprentice.

Hour 2 (Threat: 3)

I remember picking up a copy of Trybuna Narodowa in a cafe in the port of Gdynia. I was on the trail of the warlock Izydor Kotkowski and had tracked him to the city, suspecting he was planning to board a ship to Stockholm and out of our reach. I glanced though the pages as I waited for sign of my quarry and had no real interest in the articles, but somehow the obituary section caught my eye. My hands shook slightly and I tried to maintain my composure as I read the notification of your death in a train accident outside of Ostrava. I was unable to linger, however, as I caught sight of Kotkowski emerging from a side street - I grabbed my hat, wrapped my greatcoat about myself, and set off in pursuit.

Hour 3 (Threat: 4)

I remember arriving at your house in Haganj village, having recovered a map and key from the our active last dead drop in Bydgoszcz. Kotkowski was dead and his grimoire en route to the chapterhouse in Berlin. As I suspected, the house was bare, merely a front for the entrance to the basement lab, and as I descended the narrow stone staircase I smelt the acrid chemical stink of your Great Work. Every available work surface was caked with gore, radiating out from the central operating table where a variety of limbs, organs, and sheets of skin had been abandoned before being fully assembled. I cautiously approached, amulet in hand, and pulled back the sheet that coverered the amalgam's head. A litany of prayers and curses followed when I saw it had your face.

Hour 4 (Threat:3)

I remember the years we spent together in service of the Order, the years of training under your guidance as I learned to recognise the difference between safe, sanctioned arts and the dangerous, forbidden practices of warlocks. I was so proud on the day that you told me I had passed my training and would be elevated to the same rank as you. I anticipated the work that we'd achieve together and was intrigued when you alluded to a higher purpose we might aim for, a Great Work that you'd been pursuing for many years. It never occurred to me to enquire of the wider members of the Order on the rare occasions we were in Berlin, but in hindsight I realise that I should have been more vigilant of signs of occult influence.

Hour 5 (Threat: 3)

I remember recoiling from the abomination you had crafted in the basement of your house in Haganj, whispering prayers until my voice was hoarse. I knew that this thing on the slab could not truly be you, but it wore your face and that needed further examination. Building up my resolve by reciting an incantation to appease the funerary spirits, I slowly paced back to the operating table and peered at the assembled corpse. The edges of the delicately flayed face had been etched with tattoos in a cursive script, the stylus a length of bone which lay to one side of the head. Recalling my Cyrillic lessons, I recognised snatches of meaning, enough to fear that the face had been enchanted and transmuted to resemble your own. I was relieved to learn you had not died a second time, and now had significant doubts that you'd died outside Ostrava. What I could say for certain was that you were involved in harshly proscribed arts and we need to talk to determine whether you could yet be saved.

Hour 6 (Threat: 2)

I remember discussing you with Artur Janik, a retired priest in the village of Kleszczów. He was unaware of the nature of our group, but recognised the name enough to entrust me with his written account of a series of disturbing events that had plagued the village in recent years. A great wolf, rumoured to be the offspring of the devil and an outcast witch, had been killing livestock for months and now had progressed to attacking lone travellers at dusk. A stranger arrived in the village one morning and, after spending the day enquiring after the beast and its movements, spent the night of the full moon in the woods. Nobody expected to see the stranger again, so it came a surprise when he returned at dawn; streaked in gore and carrying the freshly-skinned pelt of a great wolf. The stranger deposited his trophy on the steps of the church and left without answering any of the community's many questions or accepting any of their hastily-offered gifts.

Hour 7 (Threat: 2)

I remember staggering out of your house in Haganj, desperate for fresh air and natural light. As I reached the front door I noticed something I'd missed on the way in; a crumpled sheet of paper laying on the floor behind the front door. On closer examination I saw that it was a page torn from a book and heavily annotated in your handwriting with what I can only describe as thoughts on how to implement the original page's content. Furthermore, the notes were addressed to me, they were your attempt at explaining how your forbidden experiments shaping and animating dead flesh could be of use to us in our work. I carefully folded the page and tucked it into the inner pocket of my greatcoat, we would discuss this matter further in person and if need be this would be a key piece of evidence in your prosecution.

Hour 8 (Threat: 2)

I remember roaming the streets of Berlin with the rest of my - our - brothers and sisters from the chapterhouse as we searched for any trace of you. The hunt was not my doing, the page was still hidden about my person, instead you had drawn the covetous eyes of several less-accomplished members of the Order. They had conspired to make allegations against you that while lacking any substance they could prove, were nonetheless all to close to the truths that I had uncovered. I decided that it would be best to play along and join the city-wide search on the first night, and then slip away the following day to make my way to our safehouse outside Falkenhagen. I knew that eventually word would reach you and you'd make your way there to make contact with me. I felt the weight of guilt in my heart for betraying the Order by withholding evidence, but I knew that you must have a reason for what you did. I owed it to you to let you explain to us, to me, what you were planning.

The Choice

You arrive. I hear the crunch of dry leaves on the path and the clatter of keys, fully aware that both are courtesies your are affording me; we both know that you are more than capable of reaching and entering the safehouse in absolute silence. As the door creaks open I feel the shotgun shaking, before realising that it is my hands that tremble. I see your face and cannot bring myself to fire, I lower the shotgun and use it to gesture to the empty chair on the other side of the hearth.

The Die Roll...

The roll is 4, you're not here to kill me.

You take the seat opposite me and we sit by the fire. At first we sit in tense silence, but eventually I withdraw the page from my coat and pass it to you, signalling the start of a long conversation that takes us through the night. When dawn arrives we have both learned much about each other and both know that when we leave it will be to travel far from the Order's reach, as they will be pursuing us both now.

Blossom Valley - Days 4 to 6

A series played using Iron Valley and incorporating the calendar from Wanderhome.  This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

4th Tillsoil, Year of Migration

Promises

• Help housemates with doing chores (simple, laid back - 1 box) COMPLETE
• Take a tour of Little Plains with a neighbour (simple, laid back - 1 box) COMPLETE
• Get a part-time job (complicated, laid back - 2 boxes) IN PROGRESS (5/8)

Note: I hadn't Reaped the Benefits of the first two promises so I'll do that now. Buttercup gains 1 Favour with Ace Dream and 1 Favour with Lily Eclipse, and 8 Satisfaction (both promises were completed by making connections with new friends). Time Passes: 2/4.

Favour: Ace Dream (1), Lily Eclipse (1)

Satisfaction: 8

I've only been in town for a few days and I already feel like I'm settling in and making friends. Ace was so kind taking me to the Halls of Knowledge yesterday so I decided that I'd get them a nice bunch of flowers as a thank you.

• Get Ace some flowers (simple, laid back - 1 box)

I remembered seeing some lovely plants growing outside of the village when I was sailing in, so I got up early and went for a walk along the banks of the Emerald Run.

Rooting around to find flowers using Edge to avoid falling in the river. 6 + 1 = 7 vs. 1 & 6. Weak hit. Time Passes: 3/4. Gain 1x Flowers.

It took longer than I anticipated as the Tillsoil ground is still hard and icy so I had to take care to keep my balance. Eventually I found a route to a small clump of hardy white flowers holding out against the cold weather. I didn't want to take the entire bunch, so I just took one before moving on to find more.

Rooting around to find flowers using Edge to avoid falling in the river. 2 + 1 = 3 vs. 3 & 9. Fail. Time Passes: 4/4. (I don't think this is going to be worth resuming tomorrow, so will abandon the promise and recoup the tick as satisfaction.)

I searched all morning and into the afternoon, but I made slow progress and eventually I had to admit defeat. I only had one flower, but hopefully that would be enough to make Ace happy. I made my way back home and put the flower in a vase for Ace. When he got back from work, he saw the flower and his face lit up in a constellation of stars. He said he hadn't seen any of these wild flowers growing in a long time, so it was a lovely suprise to see this one. I explained that I'd seen more and he said he'd try to make time to go and visit the others.

After that, I spent the evening in my room studying my science books and reviewing my notes to prepare myself for when I start my experiments here in town.

Spending 3 satisfaction (new total: 5) to upgrade Science skill. It now grants +1 to rolls and +1 tick on any success.

5th Tillsoil, Year of Migration

I woke up early again, excited to get to work on my study of magic. When I got downstairs I found my housemates were all awake, apparently they like to use Rest Days to hang out around the house and work on their hobbies. I decided I'd like to spend some time at the Halls of Wisdom, so I grabbed some toast and said my goodbyes.

At the Halls I saw that I wasn't the only person who liked to spend time here on Rest Days, Bolita Flood was here too working on her anatomy illustrations. She asked me for my opinion on her work, so I did my best to give some feedback.

Trying best to help Bolita with advice (Wits and Science). 3 + 3 + 1 = 7 vs. 5 & 9. Weak hit. Time Passes 1/4. Two ticks towards Get a part-time job.

It took a while as she had a lot of drawings, and they were so detailed. I gave the best advice I could and I think that she was happy. She asked why I was here, so I explained my field of study as best I could.

Trying best to explain magic-ology with Wits and Science. 4 + 3 + 1 = 8 vs. 1 & 9. Weak hit. Time Passes 1/4. Two ticks towards Get a part-time job.

Reaping the Benefits of Get a part-time job. Gain 8 satisfaction (new total 13). Time Passes: 2/4.

Bolita was very intrigued by my research and had some fascinating observations on the potential for magical aptitude being an innate trait for some people. We chatted well into the afternoon and Bolita even offered my a part-time job helping with her teaching. This is a wonderful opportunity to get some teaching experience, and maybe some of our students will have magical gifts!

I realised that tomorrow is Community Garden Day and I've not done any gardening in such a long time, so I searched the library for some books to help me develop my skills.

• Study gardening/botany (complicated, urgent - 3 boxes).

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Wits and Science. 4 + 3 + 1 = 8 vs. 4 & 8. Weak hit. Time Passes 3/4. 2/12 ticks toward goal.

I found a book that looked promising at first, but once I started to read it I found that while it was comprehensive, it was also very confusingly laid out and took a while to find anything. I decided to carry on and see how much I could learn today, thinking I could always ask Pollux (the librarian here at the Halls) for advice tomorrow.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Wits and Science. 3 + 3 + 1 = 7 vs. 8 & 10. Fail. Time Passes 4/4.

I studied long into the night and eventually found myself falling asleep over the book, so I packed it away and decided it was time to go home to rest. I wanted to be rested and ready to get to work tomorrow!

6th Tillsoil, Year of Migration

I woke up from dreams about a huge gardening book chasing me, trying to catch me in its pages and plant me in a large pot of dark soil. I decided that I would definitely ask Pollux for help next time I was at the Halls. In the meantime, I got dressed and had a quick breakfast before heading out to Green View Farm to help with the gardening. When I arrived several people were already hard at work and, after some time observing, I realised that everyone was taking direction from a somewhat dour-looking capybara. I picked up a spade and follow their advice as best as I could.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Iron. 5 + 1 = 6 vs. 7 & 10. Fail. Time Passes 1/4.

I was struggling to dig; either I was tired from the dream-filled night or just clueless about how to hold a spade. Whichever it was, I didn't seem to be getting anywhere, so I took a breather and looked around. Nearby I saw Lily Eclipse turning soil with a trowel, so I moved closer and, after I quick hello, I tried to copy her motions.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Iron. 5 + 1 = 6 vs. 2 & 5. Strong hit. 2 ticks toward goal (4/12).

Lily noticed that I was copying her and looked over with a grin. She complimented me on my technique with a wink, and said explained that Harmony Night (the capybara) taught her everything she knows. I was feeling more confident now, so I walked over to Harmony and asked for guidance.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Heart. 6 + 2 = 8 vs. 3 & 4. Strong hit. 2 ticks toward goal (6/12).

Despite her pessimistic demeanour, Harmony was a very talented teacher and after a quick demonstration I was soon digging with some degree of competence!

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Iron. 2 + 1 = 3 vs. 1 & 8. Weak hit. 1 ticks toward goal (7/12). Time Passes 2/4.

Well, competence but not speed; it was still a lot of hard work and I was clearly working slower than a lot of the other villagers.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Iron. 1 + 1 = 2 vs. 2 & 9. Fail. Time Passes 3/4.

By the afternoon I was really starting to flag, so I surreptitiously edged closer to the north side of the field and once I was there I leaned my spade against a tree and dashed to the Halls of Knowledge. I was determined to get something useful out of that book!

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Wits and Science. 2 + 3 + 1 = 6 vs. 3 & 10. Strong hit. 2 ticks toward goal (9/12).

Taking a look at the book with fresh eyes I realised that I'd been coming at it from the wrong direction - this wasn't a botany book at all, it was a book of gardening spells! Once I was reading it from a magicological perspective it started to make sense, and I even found a cantrip to help make digging easier. I committed it to memory, put the book back, and ran back to the farm.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Shadow. 2 + 2 = 4 vs. 1 & 1. Strong hit. 2 ticks toward goal (11/12).

Once I was back, I grabbed the spade, twirled in clockwise three times, and whispered the soil-turning charm to it. It already felt lighter in my hands and I set to work digging again.

Trying best to learn about gardening/botany with Iron. 4 + 1 = 5 vs. 5 & 8. Fail. Time Passes 4/4.

As soon as I lifted the spade I felt it lift higher and higher until eventually I had to stand on tiptoes just to hold onto it! Something had gone very wrong with the cantrip; the spade was definitely lighter, but I'd made it too light and now it was at risk of floating away. With some effort I was able to muster a counter-charm to cancel out the botched cantrip, and the spade clattered to the ground. Luckily by this point most of the villagers were packing away the tools so nobody noticed. I quickly put the spade away in the shed and then made my way back home.

That evening I wrote copious notes about what I'd learned from the book, how the cantrip had felt to cast, and my reflections on what I might have done wrong.

Spending 3 satisfaction (new total: 8) to buy the Garden Magic skill. It now grants +1 to rolls.

Promises

• Get Ace some flowers (simple, laid back - 1 box) ABANDONED (1/4)
• Get a part-time job (complicated, laid back - 2 boxes) COMPLETED (9/8)
• Study gardening/botany (complicated, urgent - 3 boxes) IN PROGRESS (11/12)

Hex and the City 2: Sunday

 A series played using Songs of the City. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

THE WITCH

Name: Sasha Wolfe

Pronouns: They / Them

Aesthetic: Cottagecore

Transport: Public transport and walking

Home: Studio flat in a converted warehouse

THE CITY

Name: Requiem Hold

Description: Historic walled city that has grown with successive migrations. Architecturally it is a classical stonework foundation with steel and glass above towering it. Culturally it is a mixture of traditions and peoples sharing and innovating practices, technologies, and festivals.

Fear: That the overly conservative local government will cause the city to break apart into factions and lose its pluralistic coherency.

Hope: That small acts of community will help to strengthen the bonds of community and promote wider civic participation.

Time: The middle of a cold, wet autumn following a long, hot summer.

Sunday

I woke up late, pulled my favourite cable knit cardigan around me, and crossed the bare floorboards to the stove. I cleaned my glasses and scraped my mousy hair into a messy bun while waiting for the kettle whistle. A knock at the door startled me from my reverie, but the door slid open before I could answer it as Endel swept into my studio. His loose shirt billowed as he threw himself onto my still-unmade bed. He sighed dramatically, and I took down a pair of enamelled mugs for coffee. We both knew the moves of this dance; I quietly made two mugs of strong, black coffee, then crossed the room and offered one to my guest. Meanwhile, Endel sighed, rolled, idly kicked his bare legs, and presented an air of disconsolate malaise.

He took the proffered mug, and for a moment, we sat and blew on the surface of our coffee, taking cautious - immediately regretted - sips. After a few minutes, I reached out to smooth his tousled hair. Endel made a face and tutted as he leaned his head towards my hand. When the mess created by his entrance had been at least partially resolved, I asked him what the matter was. Even with the calming effects of the lounging and attention, he was still Endel, which is to say, a force of nature in human form. He rapidly brought me up to speed on the latest news in the building - the management company had posted a letter in the entrance hall announcing their plans to demolish the building. We apparently had until the end of the month to find new accommodation.

I sighed and considered the situation. We'd need to scout new places to live, ideally within walking distance, as hauling our possessions on public transport would be rough, and then hope that we find somewhere large enough to accommodate us all while also being affordable. I sighed again and shepherded Endel with instructions to round up the other tenants and bring them to the foyer at noon for a ritual. Endel practically squealed with excitement. He always loved participating in rituals and fondly referred to me as his "court magician" - much to my mock chagrin. After a quick shower, I gathered some candles and chalk and headed to the foyer to prepare.

By the time I'd discretely drawn marks around them, a small group of residents had gathered and was huddled on the stairs; apparently, I wasn't the only late riser today. I cleared my throat and thanked them for coming, explaining the news of the move to those who hadn't heard it. When the clamour quietened, I told them the story of how I'd moved here; the search for a new home, the elation of finding an affordable place, the struggle of bringing my possessions across the city, and then the warmth of meeting people and settling into my new home. I lit the first candle and invited others to tell their stories.

Over the next hour, we shared stories and lit candles, reminding ourselves of what we had achieved here and how it had affected us. Eventually, we were sitting among a host of lights; candles perched on windowsills, spread across the floor, snaking up the stairs. We didn't know where we end up, or even how many of us would still be together after the move, but we knew where we had come from and what we'd achieved here.