Showing posts with label maps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maps. Show all posts

Hex Mapping Notebook

I wanted hex grid paper and all I could find was a guy who copied some online templates and sold them for a fortune on Amazon. So I made my own without copying them like an arse and for a fraction of the price.

GET THEM HERE

They're A6 notebooks, saddle stitched, with thick enough paper that you could probably get pretty heavy with the colours, and plenty of space for you to blab on. One of these could contain months and months of games that you scribbled together on the bus.


The intention on how to use them is that you'd link the maps together inside the book by writing page references on the borders, telling you what maps link where. Or you could create a single big scale map and then do loads of sub hexes and reference them that way. I like the first method, since you end up with a much weirder map if you collate them, kinda like this.

Someone better buy these, 'cos I didn't make many and I intend to use the crap out of them.

Initial Thoughts On Itineraries


Thanks to +David Wilkie for his Wiki diving.


Step away from the idea that a map needs to be a survey. Why not, right? The concept of "Map" isn't a fundamental aspect of being human, we made it up. Even our modern maps aren't just sky photos, they've got their own contrivances, an arbitrary level of accuracy more than the one pictured above. Negligible even.

Itineraries tell us where cities or other useful stopping points are, the routes between them, and how long they take. Note, how long, not how far. If the route between Caragnium and Prax goes through a swamp, or the road is poor, or it's a dangerous area that requires careful going, then it will take more time. Just time. The map hardly has any indication of anything otherwise, certainly nothing not within easy reach of the paths. Leave the itinerary and you're on your own.



You can buy these in cities, so they almost always include directions from cities, to cities. Village folk need their wits about them to travel, so they rarely bother.

To generate an itinerary


  1. You get your two places, any two. Let's use cities, since that's most likely.
  2. Roll d3 for how many direct routes there are between them
  3. roll d6 per route for the number of settlements on the way
  4. roll d6 for each settlement - 1-3 village 4-5 stop (fort, tavern, waystation etc.) 6 something weird but traversable (ghost town, bandit canyon)
  5. roll d6 for each connection - 1-4 one day travel 5-6 +one day, roll again
  6. Paint in implied terrain. Anything you could see from the road and use as a directional aid (maps don't care for anything further)




See here, we have two cities linked by 3 routes with 6, 4 and 3 stops on the way. The top route will take a total of 11 days, middle 7 and bottom 7.  Since one is quite a bit longer than the other we can guess there is likely stuff in the way between the top two routes. Some hills here, a swamp there, done.


Now, when you get yourself one of these maps from an itinerant you have to remember they aren't always accurate. Things can change, people can be dumb or liars. Maybe he got it from another traveller and wrote it down wrong? Maybe the road is washed out?



How do we resist marking all the villages and forts and ghost canyons? Easy. If you don't remember a place or a village when you come to do another itinerary it's probably not on the way there. A city will have tons and tons of settlements within reach, it's plausible to not visit the same one twice (unless it's interesting and you remember it vividly).

What about the wilderness? Well it's wild. You know roughly what form it takes so just roll with it from there. No one goes cross country. No one! If you take the party offroad then you just decided to have a capital A Adventure. You may or may not turn up where you wanted. Remember, those trails are only relative to the beginning and end, the parallel paths might as well be on the moon for how accurate they are to each other.

Marked Maps of Titan

Link to the full sized images: http://imgur.com/a/y5CRX

EDIT: If you see any glaring mistakes or niggling issues in the linked maps let me know in the comments.

These have all the gamebooks I own on them, which is most. Now we can use the old game books as meandering setting material if we fancy it.


















Mapping Sholani

Got sent a copy of Island of the Necromancer recently. It's not great, but the first half of the book is a free form romp around the island of Sholani, poking things and hoovering up anything you can carry. Easy thing to map, I thought, so I did.



First thing I noticed though, was that it totally disagreed with the new maps by the original cartographer; Sholani is not 100 miles across, as the map suggests. The book was quite clear about times and distances, and mine more or less accurately reflects that. Still, can't hold it against them. Mapping Titan accurately is mental.


Full size version here.

It's nice to see the patchy and confusing text take shape into an actual map. In classic FF "you're not the boss of me, I'll do what I want" style, there's a swamp next to a desert on an island the size of Cambridge. Which is fine. Interestingly, I think the whole island is U shaped in its east/west profile, with swamps and bays in the middle and cliffs on the top and bottom.

Next step is to add in all the surprise elements that the players shouldn't automatically know about and run a little hex crawl on it. Minus all the maths puzzles, of course.

Kill the Party, Kill the World

Every time you manage to kill the whole party you now rub it in more by progressing time. Lots of it.


Get your campaign map up to this point and prepare to wreck it. Do the following for each element or hex or grid or whatever you have pinned down. Alternatively, just make it up as you go.


1-2 more
3-4 less
5 same
6 gone

Seas
Pull it in or push it out. Coastal towns will probably turn into villages, create outrageous canal systems, or just disappear. If it's gone then push it right off your map. It's out there but something weird happened.

Rivers
If it shrivelled up then everyone on the river is worse off. Rich towns aren't any more. The bottom of the rung remain largely the same.

Swelled rivers will have new lakes and be more of a nuisance to traverse. Possibly new branches have split off

Dried rivers will have gone entirely. Possible reasons include sinkholes, erosion, ice, act of gods etc.

Mountains
If there's water nearby, just smash them down if they shrink. Otherwise turn them into hills.

If they grow add some mountains along the general line of them.

If they're gone then consider volcanoes or more outlandish excuses. They could now be craters, or lakes.

Use this roll to get an idea of how much time has passed. If you roll lots of weird stuff for mountains then it's likely a lot of time has flown by since the players got themselves killed.

Towns
Growing and shrinking is obvious. Come up with a sentence to explain what happened in the missing time.

If a town is gone entirely 50% chance it's a creepy ruin inhabited by something awful. Or just bandits.

Things got weird while you were dead


Tidy Up
Now, add some new towns in places that are begging for it. If in doubt, add 1d6 worth.


Now roll a some random events for the map area


  1. A bunch of foreigners conquered it and ... 1. left it in a right state. Roll for all the towns. 1-3 they were levelled 4-6 stick with the old roll 2.became natives. Add some exotic flavour 3. improved the general state of things. Aqueducts, roads, less wandering killers for hire etc. 4. are now the ruling caste
  2. Meteor. Split your map into a 6x6 grid, then roll 2d6 to figure out where it smacked down. If anything breakable is in the rolled grid, it hit that.
  3. New overlord moved in. 50% he's in charge now/in an advanced state of working on it
  4. It got colder. Add some snow
  5. It got hotter. Dry up those lush fields
  6. A new religion swept through. Roll a D6 for each old religion: 1: no one remembers it 2: its a secret cult that you wouldn't recognise 3-4: it's been absorbed by the new religion 5: its an unpopular minority 6: it coexists (50% happy/hostile)
  7. A significant monster has moved in. A dragon-esque thing. Everyone on the map will know about it and have opinions on it.
  8. There is a mysterious (or not so mysterious) plague afflicting the area nowadays.
  9. Technology has moved... 1-3 backwards. Think, medieval to bronze age 4-6 forwards. Medieval to renaissance. Don't think too literally, take a minute to imagine what "technology" means in your situation. Discovering lost knowledge? Or maybe losing that knowledge. It does not necessarily mean things are better.
  10. Anarchy! The largest governmental body is local. If it was that before, then pull it down to familial.
  11. Pick an omen or prophecy you've mentioned in your games. That came true.
  12. A totally new motif has taken over. If your people were scrapping in the dirt, now they're rich and fat. If they were a magocrcy now they're a totalitarian republic. If they were Byzantium now they're Turkey. Pick a fundamental change and roll with it.



Once all that's done, look at the map and tell yourself stories about what happened. Look at all the old points of interest and think how the changing world messed with them. Did a secret cult become that new religion that everyone loves now? Did that necromancer become the overlord? 

Really mess with it. The players will visit familiar places and see how they've changed. They'll have insight into history that you haven't had to feed them. They know'cos they were there.

The Lovers



Did you know there are 22 Major Arcana? That's a lot! One down though.

I think it's ok to share this map, which I thoroughly enjoyed making. The players and anyone else who may go on to play it can look at it all they like IT WON'T HELP YOU.

Since adopting the 12-year-old me mapping system things have been going a lot smoother. Top down is not how I experience the environment, and is extremely boring to use for making lots of tall buildings. So fuck it, cutaways.


The Empires

The Empires derivative common name for a fluid cultural area formally known as the Commonwealth
Characterised by ruins. People living out of the glory of the past, shattered by a tepid war to claim the seat of the Autarch. The succession war has carried on in its current state for generations, an amount of time so great that the common people don't think of it as a war, rather just the state of things.

The outside world knows them as mercenaries and adventurers. This blasted land produces them seemingly without end, the weary and the war-hungry, stumbling out of the dust looking for what they cannot find here.

There are more cities than this. The Great City was vast, stretching from horizon to horizon, so old that it's docks now sit far inland as the sea retreats from her. But this is some examples of her remnants.

The Empire and its neighbours
Link to the big version

Language
They speak a non-gendered language. This is cause for embarrassment when among foreign people, as they default to referring to everyone as women, and have great trouble differentiating gender linguistically. Possibly the source of the belief that Empiric mercenaries refer to everyone as women because of barbarian arrogance and a desire to demean other warriors as weak, but it's merely a matter of linguistic confusion.

Roads
There are extensive roads between the cities, but they are closed by order of the last Autarch. In disrepair and patrolled by ulans, who have royal writ to claim any belongings of trespassers). They are dangerous and avoided by all.
Ulans stalk the highways
Example City-States

Great Lady's house
White Ape City
Ruler: The Mighty Opener, Soul of Darkness,

If it were not redundant to call any city among the empires "ancient" White Ape City would earn that moniker. Temple city to the Great Lady Under Earth and at its highest peak her own residence and, by relation, entrance to the underworld.

Though not the most populous, it is opulent. Even modest citizens can live among the carven arches and endlessly repeating grotesques depicting scenes from the House of the Great Lady.

The city gains its name from the intelligent white gorillas that are allowed to lope around the city. They are considered to be guides to the underworld and contribute to the city's safety. Most people are hesitant to risk harming or angering them.

Carnifex
Ruler: The Carnifex
A cold and blasted hill, honeycombed with tunnels and cells. When the wind blows at the right angle and with enough spite it makes the city-hill moan with a thousand hopeless voices.

The wealthiest citizens live at the bottom of the hill in dark wooden houses, huddled together against the wind and noise. As you travel further and further up the mound they become poorer and poorer. The worst wretches live alongside the prisoners kept in the few functional cells left in the vast tunnels.

At the very top is the house of the carnifex and her apprentices. Masked and silent, she rules from on high. Her sword is the sum of the law, pray her masked agents do not take you in the night for breaking the unspoken law.

Gateway of Gods
Ruler: The Masterful Keeper of Gods

The twin rivers that flow through the Empires are the remit of The Flood-Storm, a god both OF and which IS the river system. The Flood-Storm ensures that the seasonal floods and other equally important river activities remain in place.

You will find the House of the Flood-Storm here, at Gateway of Gods, sitting atop the antiquated system of gates and channels that has the power to withhold and unleash the rivers. It's priesthood has evolved around its arcane operation, with the Keeper of Gods as its high priest, and bodily representative of the Flood-Storm when she is needed. At her command the waters were withheld and mountains flooded, thus both the White Tree Mire and Concourse of Copper was formed.

Gateway of Gods






The Gate of the Sun-Child
Ruler:  The Yellow Empress, the Power Perverse

The Gate of the Sun-Child is believed to be the closest point to the sun as it crosses the sky on its way to the underworld to determine the fate of the dead. At no other place is the Sun-Child's numinous power more apparent.

A caste of column builders call this city-state home. They mine the fine white stones from their quarries and fashion them into taller and taller pillars, upon which the wealthy clamber in order to be closer to the Sun-Child. Taller and taller columns require more and more advanced and elaborate constructions, all in order to prove the godliness of its owner and to allow them to look down upon others.

The construction of these pillars drives the city to expand and plunder.

City of the Emerald Throne
Ruler: The Amaranthine Vizier

Before the Gate of Gods redirected the Slow River, the Emerald Throne was home to only it's ruler and her staff. The great basalt ziggurat of the Emerald Throne is the seclusium of  The Amaranthine Vizier, who some suspect is THE Amaranthine Vizier, who advised the last Autarch and was suspected of being the true power behind the throne.

Since the arrival of the Slow River and its flood waters, others have come, flocking to live in the shadow of the ziggurat. Food is abundant and rival cities are fearful of the Vizier, who for now has seen fit to stay in her seclusium pursuing whatever it is brought him here to begin with.

Like this, but imagine cranes as well
Fort of the People at the Edge
Ruler:  The Manifold Gatherer

Sat on the edge of the Concourse of Copper, the starved river.

Once a vast port stretching for miles along its bank, now its inhabited area is largely confined to still operable loading cranes and the buttresses that once formed the solid walls of the river bank.

They maintain fields in the rich, damp soil of the riverbed, producing a vast surplus of food. In addition, they are the largest producer of Yellow Sun-Child, a thick, sometimes viscous, tea enjoyed by all levels of society. It numbs the senses and mouth, to which can be attributed the characteristic drawl and slow speech that foreigners associate so closely with the Empires.

The Impregnable City
Ruler: The Voluminous Shepherd, Eater of Hearts

Its name refers to the metaphorical nature of the city, rather than a measure of its assailability. Indeed, it has been taken and sacked many times since the beginning of the succession. Rather it is a statement regarding its origin as the necropolis of the Great City, which of course lies splintered every which way can be imagined.

Death can not be overcome, of which the residents are grimly aware. Their livelihoods are found in the acceptance and proper treatment of corpses. From all corners of the world people send their dead here. Great caravans arrive carrying dead kings from lands most people have never even heard of, all to be interred, burned, dismembered, preserved or otherwise attended by the citizens of the necropolis. Their knowledge of burial rites is immense and eerily up to date.

You can often spot the tell-tale rheumy eyes* of a member of the polis under foreign garb, just as they slip off the caravans and melt into the crypts and laboratories to report what they have learned. Ostensibly adding to their professional knowledge, but those ears can't help what else they may learn.

*Dark Water Corpse Dust, another source of wealth, is not good for the sinuses

Seven Orchard City
Ruler:  The Green Lion

Seven orchards for seven families. Not long ago it was simply Orchard City, and for miles at its approach you would be met with the sweet smell of pear blossoms, date palms row by row, tended by the armies of fieldhands.

Now there is little land left, the rows of trees are drowned in the White Tree Mire, a gift from the Gateway of Gods. As they give, they take away, or give so much you can take no more.


The Bear Tower
Ruler: The Unconquerable Monster, the Hidden Guest of the Bear Tower

The bear tower is a crumbling spire at the terminus of a meandering and shattered wall, at places scores of metres thick, clad in metal.

The Bear Tower itself takes in young children and raises them to become animal tamers. More than mere tricks, they can break any animal and produce extraordinary feats. At some point in life each tamer takes a lion or bear in marriage, after which they shun human lovers.

Under a member of the Bear Tower an animal will be tested and either broken or moulded into a focused machine, bent to whatever end it was intended for. Many die or are too wounded to continue and are thrown from the tower to be collected by the people living in the shacks and shanties below.


The Ven visit the House Absolute with diplomatic gifts of laser guns

The House Absolute
The seat of governance. Its palatial gardens are of such arcane and perfect design that those searching for it uninvited are unlikely to stumble across it.

Since the succession crisis the halls of the House Absolute have been a petty game of intrigue and jockeying for position. The rulers of the cities come in and out of favour among the courtiers, find themselves invited to the garden parties and dances less and less often.

Somewhere in it's halls is kept the Iron Sceptre of governance, left carelessly on the throne. No one would think to take it by force, only a man who believes he is Autarch, and with the will to make others believe it, can even find it. None so far have done so, regardless of their bombastic claims otherwise.



















Neighbours

Yongardy

A vibrant port city, teeming with humanity. Famous for its judicial system (fairest in all the lands) and being the place to stop for any respectable trade ship darting along the Friendly coast between it's grim storms and spasmodic squalls. Its enormous fortified harbour is a joyous sight, and the last one they will see in a good while for those headed north. No major ports exist in the Empires, where the coast has retreated from the ancient cities and been left to rough border towns to handle. And further, Calipyg's ports are strictly regulated by their mushroom overlords, each barrel and hold inspected and logged on entry and exit. Such a burden of time has meant that most skip it's once bustling waters and continue onto the frozen spires of Vornheim beyond the mountains.

Trade has made it rich, but it's cavalry has made it safe. The city sits in the corridor between the Yellow Kingdoms and the Empires, a plain occupied by nomadic Grass tribes (a rough and violent people), kept in check by decree of the governor and the court of directors. Dragoons are sent out regularly to pillage and burn the roving villages to keep them fearful and to ensure they never grow numerous enough to threaten the Fairest City.

Calipyg Map

The map of Calipyg and its surroundings. The western tip of the Fern Court, famous for its Cunning Men, dominates the peninsula, where it cascades down into the sick and salty Bitterfen.

Click for the big version.




It's currently the bare bones, simple places and how they connect. The details are vague until players actually see them and confirm that they're there. I look forward to filling this in.

Latter Kairnlaw (revised and expanded)

The Kairns came to the Kairnlaw in two major waves of migration separated by an interval of about four hundred years. It was the northwest corner of the continent that received both influxes, for east of the Ikon Mountains luxuriant grasslands stretch practically unbroken for three hundred leagues to the coast. This gently rolling land, thickly braided with rivers, is the realm called Prior Kairnlaw. It is superlative grazing land. The Kairns who held it first were loath to share it with their late-coming cousins, and indeed, did not do so, for their cousins—more numerous and hungrier than they—drove them out of it, and into the western plateaus, the colder, rockier, more arid half of the continent known today as Latter Kairnlaw.

Kine Gather lies in Latter Kairnlaw not far from the Bone Axe Mountains, a northern branching of the Ikons. Like its sister-cities of this area—White Lick, Crossgulch, Bailey’s Yards—it grew from a cattle market on a river, a rough-and-ready sort of place where stock could be auctioned and shipped by enterprising men unwilling to endure tedious inquiries into their herds’ provenance or prior ownership. And, again like their neighbours, Kine Gather’s citizens retain even in the moderate prosperity they currently enjoy all the predilections of their city’s founders: raiding, cattle-rustling, passionate quarrels over boundaries, and blood-feuds.

Most Latter-Kairns share these traits, and this is understandable. Their sparse-grown, harsh-wintered terrain compels their herdsmen to arduous seasonal pilgrimages to keep their animals in pasture. Only the hostility of that land to any other economy—combined with what might be called a very stubborn cultural spirit—keeps them at their historic trade. And yet, for all their pains, they can expect to raise only maculate hornbow and dwarf-ox with any success, while in Prior Kairnlaw both these breeds thrive and four others besides: palomino hornbow, crucicorn, plodd and jabóbo (of which last, more presently). If scarcity alone had not made cattle thieves of the Latter-Kairns, their enduringly bitter sense of dispossession would have done it. Inevitably they have robbed one another, but they have always preferred the richer plunder and the prestige among their fellows to be won by raiding their homeland’s usurpers.
Nift the Lean



The Greater and Lesser Kairnlaws may claim to have many differences, but religion is not one of them. A pragmatic people, they always know what God to speak to for every eventuality. They're not so arrogant to assume that any one being can solve all their problems, so much so that even converts to Vorn or Qadhi will be sure to stay on good terms with the local Gods. It would be a very brave citizen of the Kairnlaw  who would go on a journey without a quick word to The Bartlet, or visit his mistress without an offering to Judith.

Holy men of the Kairnlaw are bottomless fonts of knowledge regarding who to appeal to at any specific time. They are one of the few people who are equally welcome in Greater and Lesser, respected for their deep knowledge and god-given skills.



Gods of the Kairnlaw


To gain the ability to meaningfully interact with the Kairnic pantheon one must demonstrate intimate knowledge of their vast family. Every time the player creates a fully realised god for the pantheon they have a 50% chance of gaining the right to ask one favour per day. To use said favour they must complete the appropriate invocation.

Loose these powers if on water (temporary), since the gods avert their eyes.





Our Lady Judith, Sister in Sin, patron of cheating husbands.



Many a man has offered up a prayer to her while creeping out a forbidden paramour's window. However her attention is fickle and she is prone to allowing them to be caught by enraged husbands and vengeful wives. In polite circles a wayward husband is said to be "visiting Aunt Judith"

Invocation: Burn a small amount of your pubic hair. One strand would do.

Gift: Those who have talked to Judith can lie utterly believably to women, getting them to believe the most ridiculous things. However 1 in 6 times it will be an embarrassingly awful lie and get you immediately caught out.




The Bartlet, patron of sore feet and wasted journeys.



No one is quite sure why The Bartlet is named so but they continue to put up a prayer to them whenever they set out their door. The Bartlet is typically pictured as an anthropomorphic cat with a permanent look of disappointment, sitting by the roadside. These images are almost exclusively found in remote roadside inns.

Invocation: Throwing a shoe over your left shoulder while offering up a prayer.

Gift: Ensure an unpleasant journey on a chosen party, unwanted pursuers perhaps. This help is oblique: sore feet slowing them down ever so slightly, taking a marginally longer route. 1 in 6 chance it helps enough to make a difference.




Darrow, god of fish suppers.


Fish for breakfast, 
fish for tea,
fish for you and
fish for me! 

A variation on the rhyme is heard on the way home from the harbour, sung with no great gusto. Children sick of the fish they've been gutting all season often don't appreciate the gift that Darrow and their mothers have waiting for them at home.

Invocation: Singing or humming Darrows rhyme while preparing your fishy supper.

Gift: Can prepare even the most foul and rotten fish, turning it into a barely tolerable meal.







The Turnsmith, God of shoe repair and thresholds.


Nemesis of The Bartlet, The Turnsmith is often depicted quietly fixing shoes just inside the door of his house or chasing cats out of his workshop. In Kairnish society cats are considered to be lazy and pessimistic, traits which can rub off wherever they sleep. Cats almost exclusively live outside in Kairnish society, and are most certainly not allowed to sleep where people work.

Many small industries operate from the home. These are advertised by performing the trade by the open door to your house. Thus The Turnsmith is often associated with cottage industry.

Invocation: Leaving a small amount of leftover material from the repair by someone's front door at the earliest possible opportunity. Not doing so will see your work undone.

Gift: Can perform small repairs on mundane items and always seems to have a needle and thread handy.






Lusta-Fi, god of goatherds and lazy boys.


The Kairnlaw has innumerable gods dedicated to every possible aspect of livestock care. Understandable for a people who derive the vast majority of their food and wealth from their panoply of domesticated creatures.

Lusta-Fi looks after the young ones, who are traditionally set to watching the goats, the least important and most annoying of herds. While they sleep or play, Lusta-Fi is said to be keeping an eye on the herd. You'll often hear parents chiding their boys for letting Lusta-Fi watch the goats, that they told them not to listen to him.

Invocation: Build a small pile of rocks, a few inches high or more, on top of a small denomination coin or sweet treat. Then paint a pair of eyes on it facing what you want watched. The offering will be gone when you return, and the eyes will be closed.

Gift: They can leave one mundane situation per day and it'll be fine while they attend to other things. The situation must be low stakes (such as watching a herd, a small child, or a boiling kettle) and not require great intervention to be okay. He would not prevent the goats being stolen, but he could prevent them from walking off a cliff.




The Augot, god of drowning, broken fishing lines and loneliness.


No gods hold sway over the oceon, if one believes the Kairn. Indeed, they do not rule but some live there, such as Augot, spurned lover of Judith. Once he was the god of brotherly love but that all changed when She chased him into the sea. Now he may not break the surface out of fear of Judith getting her hands on him.

The gods are known for their narrow sight which may account for The Augot's new portfolio. Desperately lonely, this god of fraternal love drags fishermen to their deaths in a desperate bid to find company.

Invocation: You must speak into a body of salt water for no less than ten minutes in a friendly manner (a large bowl will do). Keep it light.

Gift: Though the gods lose sight of you over water The Augot can still pull you down. If he is placated before a sea voyage you may ignore the first mishap that afflicts you.

Vockachella, goddess of hunger and children


"I'm so hungry I could eat my husband!" you'll hear the herdswives exclaim as they sit down to another slim meal. The story of Vockachella is a reminder for all good husbands to provide their families with the milk and meat of the herd and to treat them with a gentle hand.

Violent or lackadaisical herdsmen will often find their lives unravelling, piece by piece.  

Invocation: Spit milk in the target's face (this is a dire insult in Kairn society)

Gift: For each favour the gods owe you, you may cause the target to fail at an action.


Destur, god of traditions and failed hunts


The Kairn rarely hunt for food, they consider it to be beneath them. The civilised man has his meat quietly sitting in his grasslands waiting to be eaten. However hunting is still required when a white ape tribe descends from the mountains, or a panther wanders too far from the shade of the Fern Court. 

Destur would disagree with this. His remit is of consistency and cultural bureaucracy. In his eyes everything is judged by how it relates to proper Kairn values, and hunting is not one of them. To spare you from the shame of eating filthy wild creatures he ensures you never find them.

Invocation: Snap an arrow over your knee and with it cut the hand that will slay the beast

Gift: Once Destur is tricked into believing the hunt has already failed you are free to pursue your quarry without interference. The hunter whos hand was cut may reroll one bushcraft test per caster's level.

Africa-land Mapping

Signing in to confirm my continued existence. This last week has been a solid wall of play testing and map making for Africa-land and Dead City stuff, plus my usual gaming obligations. It's got to the point where both groups are on the brink of heading straight into the desert to find the city so I've had to pick up speed as a result.


I've continued to chop away at Spears of Dawn until it fits the hole I've set aside for it in my campaign, namely to frame the desert that will house the Dead City. The latest step in this process has been to re-imagine the map. I've tried to stay close to the source material in spirit, keeping most of the names and general spacial relations, but changing bits and pieces as they suit my style (both aesthetic and gaming). The result is quite pretty, I feel.

It looks small because it's zoomed way out. If I were to print this it would be about two metres long. So, rather big. From this distance you can hardly make out the rivers or the words, but that's JPGs for you.




Click here for the outrageously huge and high quality version.



Here's how it all fits together so far.



The big red rectangle is the above map overlayed on the world map. See that tiny red square in the top? That's this map. The Three Lands and adjacent Ekidna Desert is rather big in comparison to puny old Vornheim and the Kairnlaws. The desert itself stretches off into the heart of the continent, hiding the Dead City in it's drifting dunes.

I'm working on a bigger scale than I'm used to and have so far enjoyed it. Fewer rivers to figure out, no roads to draw, and I can quite legitimately not mark anything other than the largest most important places on the map. When a hex is 36 miles across you can hand wave all sorts of things.

You may have guessed that I have a new red pen



You'd be surprised at how many people have accused me of being disturbed after viewing my handwriting over the years. They claim it's indicative of latent psychosis, I claim it's endearingly ham fisted.

Either way, have a half baked idea I drew as a break from writing about ooglies and giant lizards.

Ruminating on dead places


We're in a city full of towering blocks of buildings, massive tombstones on the grave of the Dead God. The streets are narrow and hold a heavy silence lifted only by the shuffling of dessicated feet. Everything looms. Before you your breath freezes in the air, the only sign of life this place has seen in centuries. A valuable commodity for the factions still skulking about.

The king, who hasn't moved in centuries, contemplating his next move while his court waits and plots.

The priests, who undermine the city with the raised dead of the cities past. They will find a way out.

The general, freshly returned from confinement in the Death Frost mountain. In his memories this city never died.

The dwindling population of ghouls packing out the slum. Never truly dying yet possessed by a fierce hunger. The strongest force the weakest to breed, feeding off their young.



Why would the players wander through this progression of awful things? What do they have to gain by entering each and every building in this city? Why, to kill death of course. But we don't have to turn over every stone for that. Broad strokes will serve, they'll fill in the gaps and let us know when something awful needs our attention. Here we find a trap, an encounter, an interesting thing. We know how they link together, we track a rough trajectory and ignore the nuts and bolts. A city isn't packed to the rafters with pertinent content, a city is a series of events, a flowchart or pain that can be created on the fly and run from a huge list of interesting things, small vignettes of soul-rending horror.

It may not be a priority to make deeply simulated structures for every inch. It might just be enough for us to know that the Duven'Ku live in towering stone buildings, one on top of the other in warren-like apartments, life imitating death. Packed in tight.

All we need to build are the choke points, be they physical or plot related. The gates, the monuments and landmarks, ruined buildings that block the way (there was a war!). The building that holds the skeleton whose hand has been carved just so and opens the gate to the sewer, the ghoul king, the Sleeping Queen's wig, the emerald studded maguffin! The players progress through them getting closer to the core of this place. Or dead.

Curated hubs with meandering random encounters connecting them.


As for Duven'Ku himself, the players don't know what will happen by killing him. Or even if they can. To make it even more fun, neither should the GM. Generate that bad-boy. Reach for a table full of interesting possible results of finding Duven'Ku. Maybe he really is dead. It would make sense after all. Maybe he's withered and weak, maybe he's a mindless ball of energy, maybe he turns you inside out, maybe he's not even here?


All this for a little necklace!

The Dead City




What is a dungeon? A series of events with a predictable progression. Typically a fun-house of horror and pain. But is the dungeon aesthetic inseparable from the experience? I think plenty of people have proven that it isn't, and this got me thinking: my players are aware of an item that cannot be destroyed because it is part of a god, they hate said item so much that they are planning to go and kill the god. Specifically, Duven'Ku and the Necklace of the Sleeping Queen.

Of all the horrible things I've done to my players, Death Love Doom struck a cord, thanks +James Raggi. One player retired his character to a monastic life and took a break from gaming because of that session, which I consider a great success. The surviving character hasn't forgotten the almost-TPK that cracking open the necklace caused, and has left a search for the creature on a low simmer ever since.


So, killing gods it is. A dead god of the dead, in a dead city in a dead land. We know his city is at the bottom of a canyon, we know it's dormant or at least incapable of projecting its malignant nastiness any more. Let's assume it has been sealed up as a result of a bitter war or some sort, a war that Duven'Ku got the short end of. The city is sealed, to a degree, and probably large since Duven'Ku was a three-in-one religion/magic-tradition/state. Let's also assume that Duven'Ku resides there, Cthulhu style.


Replace the sand with snow and you're there
Now with these assumptions and requirements we throw them in a bag and shake them up and out pops a mega-dungeon. A sprawling city-scape of the dead city of Duven'Ku with a god at its unbeating heart. Instead of levels we have buildings and neighbourhoods, instead of goblins we have Ancient Obscenities of a dead race of men, instead of treasure we have certain doom. All good so far. The players are motivated to go there and I see no reason to make it more tempting. This is the worst place for anyone to go, chances are they aren't coming back.


The issue with a city is that it is far easier to meander about than in an underground complex. A simple approach would be to roughly map the city, set up distinct districts, and then maybe create an enormous random table for generating buildings within that area. A random building for each "room", which you fill in on the map "here is event #24, it will always be here from now on". Each area will have its own flavour and grow over time as they are explored.

I really like this idea myself, but the execution is going to be another thing altogether. The map has been a right pickle so far, my room is full of abandoned attempts, and writing hundreds of interesting encounters is going to be a stretch to say the least.

This will be an ongoing project, since my players are set on going there eventually anyway. Hopefully it will develop into something usable and scalable.

Fingers crossed.


Guess who found their scanner! Hint: It's me

This is the first "proper" map I've actually made use of in a game. Everything before has been scratchy notes and arrows or a Photoshop job.




I thoroughly enjoy making dungeons that have their own thing going on. What we're looking at is an old burial mound that's been burrowed into by corpse lions who have then gone on a feeding frenzy, eating most of the ancient undead guardians and chewing off the wight king's arm. Especially unfortunate considering the party are here for his signet ring. Damn pesky bugs.


Things I've learnt:
I'm still bad at drawing slopes and water
Less fiddly fills in future. These were time consuming and didn't look good enough for the investment.
Drawing ant colonies is fun.
3D rooms look nice, worth investigating in future.



Pretty sure this map is going to get another pass and be tarted up for a bigger project in the near future. I'm rather fond of it. As ever, I'm open to criticism.

Yet more maps


I've been getting into drawing proper maps after seeing the nice stuff Simon Forster has been making lately. I went and gathered up some pencils and technical pens and here we are, the first proper map.  

Wide shot, three levels, 1 being inside the mountain the house is on. Notice the stylish balcony for when the manticore needs to entertain guests.
Close up of the fills. Still working on these, they are shockingly stressful.
The manticore's audience chamber.
The fills need some work and the cliff lines are a bit wimpy, but overall I like where this is going. I considered using a ruler for those (not so) straight lines, but then we'd lose the endearingly sloppy penmanship. Couldn't have that.

The map itself will be used soon for when the players visit the clever old manticore who knows all sorts of useful information about apocalyptic artifacts. I just hope they bring a nice enough gift..

The Ikons


A map of the Ikons mountain range, home to Vornheim and its colonies, the Latter Kairnlaw, and the freezing bleakness of the tundra.

Full size (huge) map.



Current Things of Interest:


  • The undead horde spawned from a mishap at Death Frost Mountain spread further every day. Olgrave is now a haunted ruin.
  • In the south, Callipyg has been taken over by The Blight, a race of sapient mushrooms that have installed their own vision of law and put the populace to work on a mysterious construction at the centre of town. Panic amongst neighbours ensues.
  • Kairnlaw is preparing for another war between Prior and Latter since the Latter has been worse hit by the undead plague. 
  • Pitchflint has separated from Vornheim under their new god, a 50ft giant named Batrubis.
  • The Knights of Science are being recalled to their monastery in Londo. Nobody is sure what they are up to.
  • The Old Man on the Hill is open for business again. Bring the hoary old manticore something nice and he’ll help you out. People are scrabbling to get his attention since his advice has become sporadic in his old age.
  • The Irongate has closed due to undead, cutting off the east. Gotta keep Vornheim safe.
  • The Seawall is holding off a pile of zombies, literally. Piles against the wall, soon they'll be walking over.




(this page will be kept updated as things change)

The Campaign Map

I think the campaign map is finally finished, at least in regards to towns and the general geography of the place. Ever since looking up some 16th century maps of Sweden I've been assuming there are exactly as many rickety roads and villages as I care to fit into every square inch of the place. It seems humans will live just about anywhere, making little communes within spitting distance of the last one. No respect for neat and tidy maps, damn them. So I've taken to marking down only the villages that are interesting or important enough to remember plus the main connecting roads. These main, red, roads are of the level at which I imagine a wealthy gentleman could ride his coach down without spilling his drink every few seconds.

 Click for a bigger version

Bigger version.

As for scale, it's about 5 miles per hex but I'm not too concerned with physical distance. Most movement so far has been thought of in terms of "how many hexes can we cover in a day?" Knowing that Kildear is 2 days from Vornheim is more useful than knowing it's 30 miles away.

Using this thing is going to be intimidating for me. So far my only stab at hexcrawls is the little journey from Gaxen Kane (no relation, I just liked the name) to the Slaughtergrid. It was a fun little hunt where the players didn't know the exact spot, just a general direction and rumour it was out there and full of gold. They ended up getting some rough ideas from locals, guessing, and beseeching a fickle god whose answers were 50/50 at best. After some tumbles with the local wildlife and indigenous tribes they ended up at their destination and we all had a jolly old time.

But by the gods, it's terrifying going all free-wheely hexcrawly on these things.

I decided I'd use random encounters to flesh out the map, ensuring the players really feel the world by living it (or dying to it, either's good). For example, until the session to find the Slaughtergrid we didn't know where the Silver Tower or Gold Citadel were, or even if they existed. I'd fashioned a big fat encounter table (using the one Slaughtergrid already provided and adding a bunch of other stuff) and just ran the session with it until the dungeon location got rolled up. I had plenty of material in there to occupy an evening, and if the dungeon turned up in the first roll we could just dive right in an do that sweet dungeon thing.

Things that are now true:

  1. Burke Birds live here, are arseholes, and should not be underestimated.
  2. Banth are hunted by the Gold Citadel.
  3. The Gold Citadel are a thing.
  4. They burnt down the Silver Tower.
  5. A serial killer is killing all the anchorites in the area. She's pretty okay though, gives good directions.
  6. Mudmen.

Points that arose:

All things that could just as well have not existed if it weren't for the roll of a die. Does that make them less interesting than a curated progression? 

The Gold Citadel popped into existence purely out of the juxtaposition of encounters and the particular way the players approached it. The Citadel could well exist in an entirely different form had it gone otherwise. The Duchess is pickled because it made sense at the time. And is true.

It would be cool and impractical to have a bunch of dungeons scattered around that the players know about and can go to. Improvising or memorising any one of those locations at a random point would be tough. Is it worth the actual freedom when an illusion of freedom is just as fun?

Could an entire area be built by a suitably vast encounter table? Could I make a 100 entry monstrosity and run a whole campaign off it? If each result was suitably worthy, i.e. equivalent to a room in a dungeon, I don't see why not. 

Can you make 100 encounters in one go that are interesting enough and cogent enough to not feel like you're playing through a list of cool stuff with a dungeon or town at the end?

How cool would it have to be to be forgiven?


All these need answering before the players crawl back out of the lady-robot with their oodles of gold and dead comrades. We'll see how it goes!


                                            


As a side note, a distraction from doing more useful things, I made a full blown earth-scale world map. The above map fits inside the tiny red square in the top right. It's not set yet as I'm not entirely clear what I want from the larger world. I made it primarily to help me think about what to do when the current map runs thin and to test out some ways of generating nice coastlines and fitting them together. I think it came out okay.