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Posted at 12:45 PM in Games, Miscellaneous, Science, Travel | Permalink | Comments (0)
You've just emerged from hyperspace, or shut off the Alcubierre drive, or switched on the plasma sail to slow down from relativistic speed. You're here, in a new star system, and it's time to look around. Long-range telescopes have already showed you all the major planets, but you still have to chart moons, asteroids, and comets. You'll also want to check out surface conditions on all the solid planets and moons. But yours might not be the only ship in the system . . .
ENCOUNTERS IN A NEW STAR SYSTEM
Roll d10 while your spacecraft is in orbit around a planet or moon; roll d20 when it arrives at a new body. Then check the Reaction Table and roll for Situations below.
REACTION TABLE
Roll 2d6 and apply any modifiers from the encounter table.
2: Hostile— attacks immediately or begins covert hostile actions.
3-5: Unfriendly— demands surrender, makes threats, and will follow them up.
6-8: Neutral— takes no hostile action but offers no aid, either.
9-11: Friendly— willing to talk or trade, will offer aid in life-or-death situations.
12: Very Friendly— volunteers aid and supplies, freely exchange information, may suggest joining forces.
SITUATIONS
Roll 1d6 for each encounter to see what their goals are.
Posted at 11:27 AM in Random Encounters | Permalink | Comments (0)
I can usually eat something without telling the world about it, but tonight I made a grilled marinated Porterhouse steak with an heirloom tomato salad, followed by fresh-picked ripe strawberries and ice cream. All served up on the porch on a perfect evening.
But that's not what I actually intended to post about today. Lately I've been reading Dumas on Food, an English translation/abridgement of Alexander Dumas's Grand Dictionaire de Cuisine.
The entry on "Cavaillon Melon" includes the following passage, which I commend to all my fellow authors:
"One day I received a letter from the municipal council of Cavaillon which informed me that they were establishing a library and were desirous of securing for it the best books which they possibly could. They therefore begged me to send them those two or three of my novels which to my mind were the best. Now, I have a daughter and a son, whom I think I love equally; and I am the author of five or six hundred volumes and belive myself to be just about equally fond of them all. So I replied to the town of Cavaillon that it was not for an author to judge the merits of his books, that I thought all my books good, but that I found Cavaillon melons excellent; and that I consequently proposed to send to the town of Cavaillon a complete set of my works . . . if the municipal council would be willing to vote me a life annuity of twelve green melons."
"The municipal council of Cavaillon . . . replied by return of post that my request had been unanimously endorsed, and that I would certainly receive my life annuity, which in all likelihood is the only one that I will ever have."
While I don't have an oeuvre of six hundred volumes, and so probably can't parlay a set of my books into a lifetime supply of anything, I think I could manage a one-to-one swap. If you like science fiction or roleplaying games, and have a Zamponi sausage or some chanterelles, contact me.
Posted at 07:17 PM in Books, Food | Permalink | Comments (0)
In both fiction and roleplaying games, there's a distinction between a character (or NPC) who is a villain, and one who is an antagonist.
The villain is evil, or at least selfish and callous. Not only do his (or her) goals oppose those of the heroes, his character is morally inferior. Even if he believes he is serving some lofty goal, he's willing to let the ends justify the means. A villain may be monstrous, or charming, or sinister, or deceptive, but he's the "bad guy."
The antagonist isn't evil, at least not consciously. Lieutenant Gerard in The Fugitive is a perfect example. He's hunting a dangerous escaped murderer, and is determined to bring him in. It's a noble and worthy goal, and he displays courage, competence, and integrity as he pursues our wrongly-convicted hero.
Naturally, an antagonist is the most likely to reverse himself upon learning the truth. If he doesn't, he slides over into being a cruel fanatic like Inspector Javert from Les Miserables, who is a villain. Or, if it's a tragedy, the antagonist may learn his error and repent too late.
Antagonists are often praised as being "realistic," since we're constantly assured that in the real world everyone considers himself a good person. Whereas villains are disparaged as being unrealistic comic-book characters.
That's false, by the way. There are indeed people in the world who are consciously wicked. I recall running across an interview with a mid-level Mafia "soldier" in which he mentioned how much he liked to go out on spending sprees with his girlfriend using a stolen credit card. The Mafioso was making thousands off of his various rackets already, but the knowledge that some "sucker" was paying the bill for his entertainment made it that much more enjoyable.
It's also a fact is that many people will do wrong if they think they can get away with it. Think about most theft, or robbery. Think about actual premeditated murder. There's no doubt in the robber's mind that robbery is wrong. Killers know killing is wrong. They just don't expect to get caught.
And of course there are people who are so callous or incapable of empathy that it simply doesn't matter to them if their actions are harmful. Actual psychopaths have that problem — and they may make up as much as one percent of the population.
I'm not trying to paint a grim picture of humanity. It's noteworthy that crime has been declining continuously during most of my lifetime. (I'm not saying there's a connection, but you're welcome.) Some of that is due to better deterrence — fewer people think they can get away with wrongdoing, so they don't do it. And maybe some of it is due to improvements in empathy and moral sense. I don't know if there's been any research on that. (One colleague of mine attributes the decline in lawbreaking to the increase in obesity over the same period: would-be crooks are just getting too fat to commit crimes.)
What this does mean is that writers shouldn't be ashamed to have real villains in their stories. It's still a good idea to make the villains three-dimensional, with realistic desires and maybe some redeeming qualities. But in the end, good and evil are real, and one reason people have been telling stories for half a million years is to remind ourselves that good can win.
Posted at 07:38 PM in Writing | Permalink | Comments (0)
The new Sage of Providence, Paul Di Filippo, wrote a very kind and perceptive review of Arkad's World. Somehow I missed it when it came out back in February, but he recently put it up on Facebook. You can read the full review here.
Then you can go buy the book.
Posted at 07:30 PM in Books | Permalink | Comments (0)
When the great wizards go to war, even Kings run and hide. In this D20-inspired fantasy setting, two factions of wizards have moved from rivalry to outright warfare. Everybody thought it would end quickly, but of course it has dragged on, drawing in new allies as blazing anger turns to implacable hate. Cities, kingdoms, and castles all over the world lie in ruins, and dangers multiply as the wizards become more reckless in their spells and summonings.
ENCOUNTERS DURING THE WIZARD WAR
Roll d20 when moving, d10 when stationary.
SITUATIONS IN THE WIZARD WAR
Roll 1d6 for each encounter above to determine motivations.
Posted at 11:40 AM in Random Encounters | Permalink | Comments (0)
We never observed "Fathers' Day" in my family. Still don't. My father liked to pick out his own neckties, and dismissed the whole event as something ginned up by the makers of greeting cards and electric shavers. So all the appreciations and in memoriams people are posting on 'blogs and social media today are very sweet, but don't resonate.
I miss him every day, not just today.
Posted at 11:04 AM in Miscellaneous | Permalink | Comments (0)
It's always those damned Lannisters messing everything up, isn't it?
Posted at 10:20 PM in Film | Permalink | Comments (0)
In 1748 the famous libertine baronet Sir Francis Dashwood ordered the excavation of a complex of chalk caves under his family seat of West Wycombe Park. The work incorporated existing caves and mine tunnels, as well as new chambers and galleries, and may have linked to some of the "follies" on the grounds of the manor — and possibly to the crypt of St. Laurence's Church, the Dashwood family mausoleum, and an underground river.
The place is known as "Hell-Fire Caves" because it was the meeting-place for Dashwood's notorious social circle known as the "Hell-Fire Club" (or, more formally, the "Order of Monks of St. Francis of Wycombe" or the "Mad Monks of Medmenham." The organization was chiefly an excuse for drinking, whoring, and frat-house blasphemies against Catholicism.
Or . . . was it? Digging a complex of underground passages and coming up with an elaborate set of rituals blaspheming a religion none of the members followed anyway seems a bit over-the-top, even for Georgian-era aristocrats. Surely one of the guests would have rolled his eyes and snorted "Enough jabber about devils and the Pope, Dashwood — bring in the laudanum and the whores!"
What if Dashwood and his friends were using debauchery and "harmless" mockery of Catholicism to cover up something more nefarious? The underground warren of tunnels at West Wycombe recalls the secret underground complex described in 1797 by the madman/spy James Tilly Matthews as the headquarters of the "Air-Loom Gang," using their clockpunk machines to inflict madness on him. Needless to say, Matthews was hardly the most celebrated madman of the era: what was really behind George III's bouts of insanity beginning in 1788? What was the real source of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's visions of a "pleasure dome" with "caverns measureless to man" and an underground river in 1797? What really caused a "madman" to assassinate Prime Minister Perceval in 1812? To find out, the heroes must venture into the Hell-Fire Caves!
ENCOUNTERS IN THE HELL-FIRE CAVES
There is a 50 percent chance that any titled member of the aristocracy is actually a Reptoid lizard-man using Mesmeric illusions to appear human. Also, unless noted, all gentlemen are accompanied by 1d4 prostitutes dressed in "naughty nun" costumes and acting drunker than they really are.
Roll 1d20 if the characters are moving about the caverns, 1d10 if they remain in one room.
1: Roll Twice and Combine.
2: Plot-Advancing Encounter.Someone or something connected to the reason the adventurers are in the Hell-Fire Caverns.
3: Baboon! A live, full-grown baboon with devil's horns crudely tied to its head. The beast is drunk, confused, angry — and can bite a man's arm off.
4: Deros. 1d6 short, obese, hairless denizens of the Earth's interior, secret allies of Dashwood and his Club. Their ancient technology lies behind the Air-Loom, and their own monstrous desires are a perfect fit for the Club's debaucheries. They carry nerve-whips. A chamber containing Deros has a 50 percent chance of being a concealed entrance to their own deeper tunnels.
5: Druids. 2d6 men in Druidical robes, carrying gold-plated sickles. They are slightly less drunk than other Club members, and are preparing to carry out a real blood sacrifice. Guess who the victims will be?
6: Ghouls. 1d6 rubbery, hoofed corpse-eaters — more of Dashwood's secret allies, the Ghouls act as "cleaners" to dispose of any inconvenient bodies, witnesses, or interlopers. A room with Ghouls has a 50 percent chance of holding a secret entrance to their own damp tunnels leading in the direction of the nearest burying-ground.
7: Historical Figure. Hey, it's that guy! Roll 1d6. 1: Cagliostro; 2: Sir Francis Dashwood himself in full fake Papal regalia; 3: Benjamin Franklin, a guest of the Club; 4: George, the Prince Regent (future George IV); 5. The Comte de Saint-Germain, even though he's supposed to be dead; 6. John Wilkes, notorious political radical and libertine.
8: Lamia. One of the "Nuns" of Medmenham isn't a London doxy at all. She's a snake-bodied vampiric Lamia, irresistibly seductive and deadly. Most of the Monks probably don't care.
9: Mad Monks of Medmenham. 1d6 "normal" members of the Club. They're dressed in monks' robes over white suits, they're rich and powerful, and they're unbelievably drunk. They're looking for more booze, sex, or something to wager over — and preferably a way to combine all three.
10: Secret Agents. 1d6 of Francis Dashwood's elite secret operatives, dressed in the same white suits and monks' robes as the other members. But these men are stone cold sober, armed, and skilled at combat.
11: Air-Loom. A prototype of the "magnetized air" device which the secret conspiracy has installed under London, this one only affects the environs of West Wycombe Park itself. The device can produce various effects under the control of a skilled operator. An unskilled person monkeying with the controls gets random results. Roll 1: Amnesia; 2: Fear; 3: Loss of inhibitions; 4: Mania; 5: Pain; 6: Rage; 7: Sickness; 8: Visual hallucinations; 9: Voices inside one's head; 10: Roll twice and combine.
12: Alarm! Someone has notice intruders skulking about the place and raised the alarm. While the guests are too preoccupied to notice, Sir Francis's agents (see #10) and a crew of burly footmen make a sweep through the complex looking for anyone who isn't on the guest list.
13: Booby-Trap! A tripwire across the doorway dumps a bucket of noxious stuff onto whoever comes in. Possible contents of the bucket include human feces, ink, paint, urine, or ice water. Hilarious! The 1d4 Mad Monks who set the trap are waiting to mock whoever triggers it.
14: Captive Fairy. A fairy girl of unearthly beauty is tethered by an iron shackle to the floor. She begs to be set free. Note that her beauty is a psychic effect; her true form is a hairless gray humanoid with huge black eyes.
15: Evidence. This otherwise unoccupied room does hold a treasure. A member's discarded coat has signed letters in the pocket implicating both the coat's owner and Dashwood in occult treason.
16: Exit to Surface. A hidden ventilation shaft ascends to one of the "Follies" on the grounds of the manor.
17: Orgy in Progress. 2d6 Mad Monks, along with a like number of "Nuns" are engaged in drunken sex acts of unusual depravity. New arrivals are invited to join in, and any refusal may arouse suspicion.
18: Pagan Temple. A shrine of Venus — although the images of Venus on the walls feature a lot more eyes and tentacles than conventional depictions usually have. The bloodstains on the altar are real.
19: Wardrobe. It doesn't lead anywhere, but the big wardrobe in this room has 1d6 sets of black "Mad Monk" robes.
20: Tracks/Aftermath. Roll again to see what the adventurers just missed.
Posted at 04:18 PM in Random Encounters | Permalink | Comments (0)
I visited the Normandy beaches in 1993, a year before the fiftieth anniversary celebrations of the invasion. Beaches, of course, don't preserve anything very long. They are places where the ocean grinds everything to sand. Normandy's seashore is good for strolling; the water's too chilly for swimming and there are more rocks than sand. Most French holidaymakers go there to look at the ocean there rather than get into it.
But on the cliffs above the beach, at Pointe du Hoc, the signs of war were still clearly visible, even after half a century. The bombardment by naval guns trying to silence the German batteries atop the cliff left the entire area a moonscape of overlapping shell craters. Visitors have to stay on a raised wooden walkway because of the risk from unexploded shells.
Army Rangers climbed Pointe du Hoc seventy-five years ago. They scaled hundred-foot cliffs and held the top against German counterattacks for two days until troops from the landings below could link up with them. More than half of them were killed or wounded.
Ironically, the German heavy guns had been moved off the clifftops (though the site was still a vital observation post for the enemy). There's a tendency in modern history to focus on the importanct or decisiveness of a battle, and to dismiss the heroism of the Rangers.
But courage is courage. They accomplished their mission against ridiculous odds, overcoming setback after setback, and persevering in the face of horrifying losses. That's actual courage. Not posting something on Twitter that most of your readers already agree with, not engaging in a slightly risky sporting activity, not risking money on a venture without guaranteed profits. Courage is climbing up a cliff on a stormy morning, knowing that men are waiting at the top to kill you.
Posted at 12:51 PM in Miscellaneous, Travel | Permalink | Comments (1)
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