Session Three: Rogue of Changes

I was watching 'The Man in the High Castle' on Amazon Prime, a pity it was but one episode. Looking for more information, I was both comforted and stunned that Philip K. Dick used to the oracle to help him write his novel. In some cases he let the oracle decide his  novel. The author even commented that he did not like the direction the oracle took the story.

Thanks to all this, I discovered an old friend.

Since the age of 15 (going on three decades) I have been an avid reader of the Yi Jing oracle. The book is my deserted island book. That being the only book I would take to a deserted island. I have at least a dozen translation of The Book of Changes, and fantasize about writing my own (perhaps another blog?) With this in mind, I thought I would follow in Dick's footsteps and hand over my Scrawl to one of my oldest friends- the Zhouyi- the Book of Changes.

For those not into this oracle, or any oracles, I will not bore with the changing lines or anything of the sort. I will simply catalog the basics and how they appear on rpgsolo.com. That online oracle did have a few things to say and I add a bit of commentary:

Asking about Murk's adventure. Hexagram 6 Conflicts, disputes the courts, there is no doubt that Murkstav will be encountering many many swords on his journey through this dungeoness. Nor will this change. What will happen next, I draw 48-46, he descends into the well for drink, the water is clean the way is clear and he will ascend because of this. What does he seek? He seeks to retreat, 33, 3 to chaos the dreaded 12. He retreats his wound is poisoned and there are bandits waiting at the entrance... Inferior men, common thieves. How does Murk get out of it? 49.6 to 13. A Shedding revolution, sheds his skin like a leopard on the inside, there is a deep change on the inside. Murkstav realizes full well that he is no better than the bandits before him. How many bandits does he face? 2 = 2_[d2]

Are there two bandits? Yes, and...

>Will-o-wisp.

Murk is poisoned and he fighting at a good only, he is up against two guys and that is a great in my book, does he make it? Yes.

Yes he makes it out of it, solidly, there is something else in the room. A whil-o-wisp, fast little sucker. Note: How does Murk change inside,

Create.

Conclusions:

• This will be a crawl of constant obstacles. To take from the Tarot "Full of Swords".
• Murkstav retreats into the bowels, into the well of the crypt.
• He is poisoned, rather severely.
• He faces two bandits and a will'o'wisp.
• In order to defeat these he must change, have a creative revolution from within.
• Is he just a bandit?

I plan to write up this little instance very soon but I wanted to illustrate how perhaps K. Dick had written 'The Man in the Castle'.

Review: Dungeonism, Rogue-lite app

Mod- Dungeon is quite appealing

One thing I have learned from using Amazon and Apple, is that one can rely on the reviews. If someone is going to take the time to write something, anything, about something, in this day and age- it should be important.

For that reason I am pausing from the usual hack and slash of this blog, to review a great app- Dungeonism. This game is a modern roguel-like, though some would say it is a rogue-lite as it is rather forgiving. In the game you play an adventurer traversing a strange and distant land filled with monsters of all sorts. Truly the classics are represented here: bats, ogres, golems, spirits, ghosts- the archetypal dungeon types. Rivers and crevasses flow throughout the screen, mazes and puzzles challenge the dungeoneer. The music is great, the sound is appropriate and tends to release that rush of dopamine. The character can buy equipment, collect treasure and choose to increase a variety of skills with experience points.

By far the best thing about Dungeonism, is the graphics- not your usual fantasy pixel but a very stream-lined neon-like world. Once the player stops missing those video games of the 80's, they can sit back and really enjoy the experience of the game.


The only thing missing from Dungeonism is perhaps harder enemies or levels; and no doubt the game needs more levels, though there a hundred screens to adventure through.

For that last and only last reason, I give the game 4.5 stars. If it expands and becomes just a bit harder it would join that elite group- the only game I would have on my phone. The other being Dungeon Raid.

Anyone notice a pattern?

Rogue in the Crypt Session Two

Here are two questions that I may have answered with but one button of the rpgsolo.com:

1. Murk is hurt, perhaps critically, he will use his alchemy to cure or something of the sort. 
2. There is a corridor underneath, it is 10' wide and heads north, for now.

I am posting this to illustrate a point. What you are about to read was inspired by just one result of rpgsolo:

NPC Action.

Which turned into:

   The mercenary gripped his wounded handed, fortunately only slashed and bloody. His reflexes saving him, Murkstav cursed himself for being a novice fool. From below a strange luminous glow emerged, almost inviting, that did not seem like firelight at all but something conjured. The rogue did not enjoy conjured things, they never turned out right in the end. 

     Obsessing over his hand, or hypnotized by the glow below, the way it danced on the broken steel of the trap-blade, the sounds behind him did not register in his brain. There the sound of metal and stone moving. It was then that Murk realized he had overlooked the central crypt, the giant sarcophogus centered on it all. Why had he ignored it? Feeling the chills running up his spine, Murkstav turned. Turned to see a giant hand grip the lid of the stone copher (not even sure if that is a word). 

     The witch spoke of her son, her giant son, a thing unknown by men. Remembering the tales of woe, the tales circulated from tavern to tavern, Murkstav realized why Obar sounded so familiar. Years ago there was a creature stalking the swamps around Rivermoon, slain by men from the Black Spear tavern. The men, huddled years ago about mugs of ale and meal, spoke most of the things hands, the giant hands that gripped men and squeezed. The losses had been heavy until the beast was finally put down. 

     Surely those were the hands gripping those men that now gripped the lid, letting out a dull undead moan that Murkstav learned so often was never good news. 

     "Damn me for a fool," Murk hissed, looking at the entrance. "Always keep your exit and back guarded" he repeated to himself echoing C'ang's greatest sentiment, speaking it every time they walked into a tomb. Now there was one that the young mercenary would enjoy, gravely to fight beside. 

     It began to emerge, its head crowning over the lip of the tomb, giant and grey, with strands of slick- slimey hair sticking to a decomposing head and skull. Was that a gag, Murk felt in his throat? 

     Somehow, the strangely lit corridor below the broken trap seemed almost inviting. The smell coming from the tomb hit the man, and it only resolved his decision. Whatever that light was, it was better than the thing coming out of that crypt. With a deep breath, Murkstav dove into the hole made by the blade, hoping there was not another as a back-up. The last thing he saw, at the corner of his eye, was a massive shape moving to his right. 

Followed by: 

Is there another blade?

(Very Unlikely | 6_[d10]) Yes, but...

 

     Falling into the corridor Murkstav heard another catch release. He closed eyes, knowing that he would emerge into the land of shadows, the afterlife, without a head.

Which brings us to a point. If one word, one picture, brings a world of inspiration, what do we need dice and buttons for?

What we (need to) know so far

Here is what we know so far, these will be critical in the moments to come: 

1. Murk is hurt, perhaps critically, he will use his alchemy to cure or something of the sort. 
2. There is a corridor underneath, it is 10' wide and heads north, for now. 
3. No doubt the map points to greater things underneath, something out there, something good, something big, and hell who knows something evil.
4.  At this time I am not sure if he has his armor, maybe this is the mission where he finds it no? 
5. What or who constructed underneath the crypt?
6. Is Murkstav alone on this mission?

Actual Game Play of First Session of Rogue in the Crypt

SESSION I MOVING TO ROGUE-LIKE One Hero using RPGsolo.com

 
Murk runs to the gate and opens the lock, is there something within?
Room size? Using custom tiles.

Square 25 ft.

It is twenty five feet square is he alone?

(Unlikely | 2_[d10]) No.

Monster?

(Likely | 5_[d10]) No, but...

There is a trap?

(Likely | 4_[d10]) No. +Event: Dispute / Wounds

There is someone in there that is going for the treasure, NPC him!

Passive-aggressive female witch.

A female witch is in there with him, performing a ritual. Is she the ruler of the ghosts from the outside?

(Likely | 6_[d10]) Yes, but... +Event: Malice / Tactics

Oh she is in charge of the ghosts and it is a TACTIC to keep people away from the tomb of her...

Dumb village idiot.

Village idiot, her son! The hell with that she is a suburb witch which means that Murk is going to be working on good.

(Likely | 6_[d10]) Yes, but...

It is only likely that he defeats her. she is ugly and decrepid, her biggest skill is...

Climbing.

crawling up the damn walls in a fight. Murkstav slashes, he first tries a bow which comes out.

(50/50 | 6_[d10]) Yes, but...

Hits her but loses something, what?

Artisan tools.

breaks the bow, on her or something. finally gets into a dungeon mood a dungeon space and starts to hack at her. Good Thieving ability against a great tomb.

(Somewhat Likely | 2_[d10]) No.

Murkstav finds NO evidence of a larger purpose in the temple. But he has a map, does he see anything in the lore, thats a so so chance

(50/50 | 10_[d10]) Yes, and...

Not only does he see something odd in the map, a language now coming into focus, or an arrow there barely noticeable, floating in the paper, but he now sees a pattern there and Ill give him a plus to this dungeon only.

Using the cubes, I see it is a plate or a door in the floor with vines all about, this room had a lot of vines amigo. Is it trapped?

(Likely | 10_[d10]) Yes, and...

Yes and it is sprung and it is a chopping trap (using the cleaver in the cubes) It is a suburb mechansim and it is very likely that the good thief is going to get cut.

(Very Likely | 9_[d10]) Yes.

Like I said, not sure what the logic was I think it was a sure thing if he had absolutely no experience but since it did he made it down one level to great chance and that is very likely...He is not as good as he guess he thought. The temple here is different and things are moving much faster than he expected.

It cleaves or bites him, Id say its almost impossible that he gets something decapitated.

(Almost Impossible | 1_[d10]) No, and...

No, it cuts him, but not only does it not catch him but the mechanism, because of age or use or whathaveyou haults giving him a space. Is it poisoined?

(Very Unlikely | 1_[d10]) No, and...

No it is not poisoned and it hits a crit failure for the trap. Damn this is one shitty trap! Murk lucked out. Sprung, unpoisoned and slaps into brokenness. He will rest and heal here and keep moving on.

Rogue in the Crypt Summary of Session 1

     Murkstav, an amateur dungeoneer, hired mercenary raised under Rivermoon, breaks out on his own. Unlike most, he selfishly decides to go at it alone. But he soon finds out why people venture into the underealms in groups. 

     Finding a map as part of the booty from a wizard (they always say, whatever you find is yours my friend, but the staff or the tome, or the mirror is mine) Murk moves northward toward a forest burial site. Stealth is not the easiest thing among the undead. 

     Chased by ghosts appearing from about the shattered trees and out of the torn and desolate leaves upon the ground, Murkstav comes upon the temple or the crypt that he had been looking forward. Even with ghost swirling around him, the aggravated thoughts of the wizard ring in his mind. He fuddles with the lock, for he is nothing but a good thief, usually hired by others, so he is used to being a sword hand a defender. He fuddles with the lock and taps it, moving the tumblers until something snaps and the gate opens, perhaps opening too easily.

     Careful when things are two easy, a paternal voice says in his mind. 

     Locking the gate behind him Murkstav crept into a 25 foot crypt divided into four chambers with a large coffin or sarcophagus in the middle. Amateur, amateur, for when Murk turned he found a witch practicing her dark arts on the floor. He goes on to learn that it was the witch manipulating the dead in defending this temple, the temple of the village idiot. 

     A battle ensues that ruins Murkstav’s bow and forces him to slay the witch with his sword as she used her powers to creep about the walls of the crypt. 

     No one was more surprised than myself when nothing emerged from the crypt in question. 

     Immediately something registers as wrong in this chapter. Why would the village idiot be buried in such an elaborate tomb? There was obviously something more to this, a secret somehow. Using his skills Murkstav, noticed smudges in the frayed map. A map drawn upon another map. Where the information lead him just to this tomb there was something, more something underneath.

     Murkstav liked underneath, away from the topsiders. The mercenary always felt better under the civilized world.

     An arrow pointing north. Or was it down? Cartographers in the continent could never really decide on one method of symbols. An arrow pointing north on a panel.

     Relishing, Murkstav heads for the panel, easily pushing it and watching it turn.

     Then a click.

     The clicks are the worst parts of this job. Before he could remove his gloved hand, a rounded blade followed immediatly after the panel opening downward. The man caught a glympse of warm orange light before his hand was sliced. Then the blade stopped with a whir and a dying crash and clunk.

     Murstav reeled back, looking at the gash in his hand, wondering if there was an ancient poison spread upon the ancient mechanism.

     And since suspense is good for the soul, this is where the session ended!

Murkstav for Solo Play

 

The term Dungeoneer has always held a certain magic for me. In my stories there have always been professional dungeon crawlers. Professional extractors usually employed by some mage or sorcery, almost always another one of my characters- Orleon Templeton, to go into the under realms, the vast subterranean world underneath the continent, and extract the most unusual of things. Always with this precept- keep what you find.

Originally I wanted to take a band of adventurers into the dungeon. With the help of +John Yorio, I had thought to make the party as character, illustrated in his blog, Then a strong craving for rogue-likes, games like Nethack, DCSS and Tales of Maj'Eyal hit me hard. I realized that I did not need, a band of characters, I just needed one. Perhaps one that mistakenly goes into the dungeon alone- and may regret it later!

Just like in a rogue-like.

So here is the "Character Sheet" for my professional dungeoneer.

MURKSTAV

+2 Great Dungeon fighter-
raised in catacombs, knows the dangers. Swords
odd jobs to get things about Rivermoon. particularly closed quarter fighting

+1 Good Thief: Locks and moving in shadows.
orphan/street rat trope.
+1 Good Archer
For his type death from afar is always better.

0 Fair … Leave this to the adventure.
Perhaps Alchemy, craftmanship, Lore

If he tries things outside of this parameter it goes down to Poor which I tend to think is more than just simply 'slightly unlikely' perhaps unlucky?

Brief Bio: Murkstav raised himself in the murky underbelly catacombs and labyrinths that lie underneath the city of Rivermoon. His odd jobs, assignments and tasks took him from stealing to outright assassination. Feeling more at home underneath the ground than above it, Murk is just now beginning to strike out on his own as a 'professional extractor' in the under realms of the Prytanian continent.

Methodology: What the hell am I doing?

Combat in a solo rpg is not the easiest thing in the world. Nor is the building of a dungeon as you go. Sure you can click a button and have a full-fledged dungeon but to have done progressively, as your character moves, is something else entirely.

For combat, I have combined four elements that shined in my experience with solo role-playing.

NOTE: Nothing gets in the way of the writing, nothing. When confronted with any of these rules, or any of the rules of an RPG and/or oracle I will choose the write, the creative flow of the words destroys any and all rules and numbers. RPG is to be used as an AID not to replace writing. 

1. The incredible GM Emulator at RPGsolo.com. This is my solo rp desk, and many times my writing desk for that matter. Most, most if not all sessions, will happen on this site. I will use primarily the Mythic buttons but the muse can point me to any button at all. Of particular interest is the Random Dungeon generation. I plan to use those custom buttons and perhaps other random dungeon generators or simply a word.

2. The descriptive rather than mathematical focus of FUDGE RPG's attributes, traits and/or characteristics. These I will use to describe my character and use him against others. He will begin with one great, two goods, three fairs and four so-so. Anything beyond that becomes mediocre or abysmal. For every plus I must provide a reason  for him being at that level. This is the scale I plan to use:

Superb Sure Thing +4

Great  Very Likely +3

Good Likely +2

Fair Slightly Likely +1

So-So +0 50/50

Poor Slightly Unlikely -1

Mediocre Unlikely -2

Terrible Very Unlikely -3

Abysmal Almost Impossible -4 

3. You will note beside the fudge-like descriptions are the Mythic descriptions. I will use those buttons on RPGsolo.com to match how my hero is performing. For example, if I ask “How does he make out in combat, I would follow the following procedure. He is a great dungeon-fighter (and I have three reasons for that) if he is up against a fair orc, I would hit the Good ‘likely’ button. If he is up against two or three, I think it would be so so if not slightly unlikely. 

4. This will give me Yes, and- Yes- No- or No, but. Here is where the inspiration begins. 

5. No inspiration I give myself license to hit a button on rpgsolo.com, use a story image, grab a rune, grab a card, look out beyond the window until something grabs me. Again, RPG as fuel for writing, not visa versa!

6. I have not crossed the bridge of hit points or magic saves or anything of that nature. Why? Quite frankly it seems to get in the way of the writing. But if things change I will let me patient readers know. 

Next up: The character, Murkstav, an old dungeoneer from my play-by-post days!

(Re) Purpose

Either life or circumstance or just the smell of the subterranean, I got the bug again. Returning here to this rare place to write of things, treasures and monsters under the realms. The main them of this blog is a dungeon crawl as story. But this time it is going to be a bit different. Now it is a story fueled by the thrill, rolling and role-ing of a traditional pen and paper dungeon game. 

People say there is a reason why dungeon crawls do not make it into stories. But nothing in my experience inspired me more than rolling a dice and seeing how the character's life changes from moment to moment. It is a door, a lock, the trigger of a trap, or the growl of something that is not at all human that conjures archetypal ideas. Well, at least in my brain. 

Consider this as a journal of that purpose. Now I have more of a solid methodology to this strange craving of madness. 

NOTE: Nothing gets in the way of the writing, nothing. When confronted with any of these rules, or any of the rules of an RPG and/or oracle I will choose the write, the creative flow of the words destroys any and all rules and numbers. RPG is to be used as an AID not to replace writing.  

Thus next up, methodology, what the hell am I doing?

Scrawl Session 3

Our heroes are in deep trouble, the party is split and things are looking rather unripe. A ramp has separated the two groups: Swann and Jestur and Malfor and Onilio. Alas how does it happen, sounds like a serious serious session with the good ol’ mantrap man. The Gods have not figured on how to get them out of there, thus we switch stories to Otilio and Malfor- the farmer still out from the fight with the Ettin. 

     Malfor coughed, his mind racing after the soul-ring grasped his consciousness from the lost worlds. Upon the brink of death the white-gold carried him forth, returning him to the realm of the living. We wakes but he is very weak, the ring pulling his consciousness from the brink of doom. It floated there and the metal surrounded his spirit until it rushed back to the mortal world of wonder, an greatness to behold. But Malfor returns incredibly weak and tired, barely able t carry his wondrous stuffings.

     Otilio heard the heroes fall down the hall. Heard the familiar slide, it was an old trick devised by a more intelligent culture, but he thought but could not place the magnificent tiles upon the service. The Gnorc entered the tomb from its eastern face, coming across it upon the cliff he scaled with a party. 

     The Gnorc, Otilio rushed down the corridor from where his new-found companions recently screamed from, he found nothing, the handle was on the base, he did notice the curtains waving a bit and the sand-marks of a drag or scuffle. 

     “They must be about here, I am sure of it” he thought to himself. Blazing forth toward the room, the Gnorc knew that this only meant doom to touch the torch but surely there was an alternate trigger. He noted about there was a sconce in the wall behind the torch

     Gnorc grabbed a length of rope, tying it about his waste and flung it over one of the railings supporting the curtains. Hanging himself from the waist he placed a torch upon the sconce. He felt a click, closed his eyes and hoped for the best. 

     Deep below Swann and Jestur fought flinging the remains of a former guest into the leech-flooding hole, they suddenly heard a clang, and the iris of the hole shut, slicing a leech in half.