Da Dominion: Home of DOMINIONCAST!

… wherein you’ll catch the mind of the players.

Once upon a time, GM’s were the Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger of their gaming story, which were almost by default a species of fantasy/horror. The accursed random encounter his weapon of choice:

“What luck finding a proper privy in this dungeon. The fur-lined seat is warm and inviting, until the MIMIC’S CLAWS FORM BETWEEN YOUR KNEES AND …!”

The tradition has been kept alive on a pile of dead characters; their tear-stained and balled up sheets stuffed into a pillow for the veteran GM to sit upon like a throne of honor - speaking their accolades and soaking their flatulence - hopefully. Now, this current generation is talking about story games - mechanically letting the players assert some authorship into how their characters behave, aspire and expire horribly. What’s a GM to do?

I’m not talking about simply loosening or eliminating the plot rails, listening to what they wish will happen next nor mining their Oliver Twist length and tone back stories for plot ideas. I’m talking about full authorship. “Axehaft Furrypiece leads the group through the tundra to a small barbarian village, not unlike the one he grew up in. Tell us, what we see.” The player creates the exposition and you’ve got nothing planned outside of a note reading “barbarian village in peril”.

Many a game master can’t get into this loss of control, like an ambush predator being hand fed in the zoo. The king has become committee chairmen, the game master is mere participant. Others have grown to enjoy the crafting of an intricate tale that they gradually reveal to their quasi-captive player audience, and now would have to endure listening to large chunks of their awesome world get soiled upon by these rank amateurs: “This road leads to Rainbow Village, where beautiful topless female centaur-unicorns frolic all day in tickle fights, make magic weapons for pleasant visitors and pee cure potions.”

Story games need not be this way, and may still capture the shared creativity of the entire group. Here are methods of managing a shared story:

1. Genre Convention: Put your Sailor Moon dress away! The genre of the game you’re running should be or implicitly is agreed upon by everyone that joins the game. Unless you’re playing in a setting with randomly opening … rifts to other dimensions (shame on you) your setting is going to have some tropes going into it. D&D doesn’t have starships … good D&D doesn’t have starships. Besides technology there is also certain a tone all should agree upon. There’s no Smurf village in Ravenloft, unless the little imps attack in zombie swarms.

2. Delegate to Democracy: Your disapproval of something can get you labeled as exercising unfair fiat - a lavender F stamped on your screen. Players will stop volunteering ’cause you may just shut it down. When something weird rubs you wrong, open it to the whole group. “Does it make sense to everyone that the orphaned rogue has a rich philanthropist Uncle that loves and showers him in gold?” “No” is the obvious answer, but if they say yes to something else be ready to roll with it. If they say yes to the ridiculous - it’s probably pay back for your past ridiculousness (a barrel full of stirges or chuul in the bath tub) and they’re likely just testing you. Control your instinct to set up a TPK! It’s time to level up as a GM.

3. Compromise: this can be the most fun and creatively challenging. Work your own vision into the player proposed idea while letting it remain true. The devil, the DM, is in the details. There is a Rainbow Village populated by female centaur unicorns that craft magic weapons - so they‘re kind of high leveled. They do tickle fight and have Tasha’s Hideous Laughter as a spell-like touch attack. They give pleasant visitors swag, but are very sensitive ladies. Rude visitors have their XP harvested via fey ritual to craft their items. A single snide remark or unflattering perkiness comment will trigger a high level magic item equipped battle hard enough to get the characters leaping for every puddle on the prairie hoping it’s cure potion.

Ed Zwick’s Defiance is an action/drama with smidgen of schmaltz (a word from Yiddish meaning “chick flick romantic bullshit” - not literally). At the same time, it’s definitely not an all out action flick. At no time does Dan Craig mug for the camera, “Bielski. Tuvia Bielski” before flying down a zip line one-handed blasting Nazi‘s with a Tommy gun in the other and humming Havah Nagilah. If he did I’d be rooting for the Germans - and I HATE rooting for the Germans.

Glory. Legends of the Fall. Courage under Fire. The Siege. Zwick knows his stuff and adds another to this impressive portfolio. Despite strong allusions to the story of Moses, this is a very gritty film without traditional heroes but capturing the reality of men and women just doing their best in a fucked up situation. They steal. They hook up for warmth and to fend off despair - quickly too. Irving didn’t your wife and kid just die a few scenes back? They eat dogs and horses, kosher - maybe not, but ain‘t no manna from the sky for this tribe. Interspersed through are glimpses of normal life, especially romance, which doesn’t quite undermine the intensity but does NOT help it. They kill, although this last part is by far the easiest when your enemy is committing atrocities and means to wipe you off the Earth, and has the ability. A major theme is the formation of community amidst the state of nature. The one family, the foundation of this a micro-society, is broken by it’s grief.

Tuvia and Zus are the eldest brothers of the Bielski family. Being smugglers and bootleggers they know to evade their hunters and in doing so pick up refuges looking for safety under their protection. Tuvia is the most conscientious and is played exceedingly well by Daniel Craig. He wishes to take in everyone, accepting the hardships of leadership. Liev Schreiber plays Zus, the brother that simply wants to fight back in eye for an eye fashion. Of course there’s a schism, even a Romulus/Remus fight, leaving Tuvai to effectively serve as savior to his people. Most of the film focuses on this wilderness community as it goes through its first winter. There is dissention in the ranks counter balanced by a traditional wedding, tragedy and joy. In the end, Zus and Tuvia reconcile and we’re told they survived with 1200 people.

Defiance is a good movie, but not a great one. Poignancy was lacking since the biggest threat to this Jewish colony were it’s own members mostly. It wasn’t until the end that the Germans even showed up to try to kill them and the film reverts into an action flick with some pointless heroics, with the cavalry coming in the nick of time. Kind of doesn’t do the struggle justice, but definitely watch-able.

Alan fit the freshly ground metal piece into the lock’s gear system and gave it a turn as he press it in. The lower bow hold door clanked with the release of multiple internal secure bars before the door opened to the ship’s treasury. Inside were exotic spices, four sacks of multi-colored crystals, and boxes with alien writing on some kind of ashen hued parchment, their gear and 6 four-foot metal rods. Their victory in this task, like the bloody business above, was however short lived.

The ceiling hatch slamming shut was the indicator that the rebellion had been noticed. Lord Nevosa, his lieutenant and 4 Nior warriors were still up and intent on keeping their vessel. The chief son’s restrained tones offered freedom to those that surrendered. He claimed another vessel had responded to their distress call and was en route. His offer was of course denied. The bellow pipe being plugged on the bridge level was a quiet declaration of war. Alan, Squeezil, Jerrith and a squad each of Shi’Ator and Ueppaah captives prepared their escape.

While the broken slaves were moved to the lower bow hold, Alan hatched a plan to redirect the major current of the generator through the ships metallic hull to disrupt the bridge. Half an hour later all the preparations were made and the conduit lowered to the deck. Some Shi’Ator were not in a safe enough area in the lower hold and suffered the consequences, but there was no indication that command was affected. Power distribution was though, as the lanterns of the skimma winked out.

The blue glow of the generator was enough to jury rig a way, at the risk of crippling the vessel further. Two similar charge conduits were affixed to the hatch to blow it off its recessed hinges. A loud scream from the routers caused by such an energy drain preceded a sudden 45-degree tilt to port. Muffled shouts from above let them know their captors were still about. Jerrith, Koviannos and Squeezil backed by several Shi’Ator ascend to the midnight black quarterdeck.

Struggling to keep footing in the vertigo of the slanted floor, Koviannos volunteered to lead the way letting his psionic sense guide them.
From above on the starboard side solidly struck the gray alien whom collapsed. Distant scuffles let them know there was something at the far end of the level. A quick flash and loud report confirmed this as molten tungsten plug struck the gray being solidly, the frail frame collapsed with the wound. The security officer moved to shield Koviannos, spraying blindly from his carbine to keep the dark sighted threats at bay. He took a grazing shot of the burning metal for his trouble. Squeezil, keen sighted and still unnoticed, found the crank to raise the deck’s metal shutters and began cranking with all the strength her small frame could muster.

To get a better vantage Jerrith hung from a nearby doorway returning fire blindly. The Nior wasn’t hindered by the darkness, but the dim red light from the now opened shutters. A clear target profile was all the survivalist needed to end that threat. From the elevated starboard corridor, a second Nior aimed at the human below. Gorus the Shi’Ator commander spotted this and with a mighty leap tackled the second warrior - his superior skill making quick work of the remaining threat.

Kovianos was bandaged, but his biology was unfathomable compared to any Jerrith had seen. Squee could just make out a speck on the horizon slowly approaching. The next hatch to main deck was also barred, and although Alan cut eventually cut through it with his tools, would it be fast enough? A drastic measure had to be taken. The ferret secured a rope to herself and climbed out of the high side to get to the top.

A Nior lay in ambush above the hatch with the thick blade of his darglaive ready to split the first head that emerged from the now sizzling hatch. Another was further down the deck in a prone position taking aim for the first newcomer. Hiding amongst cooling pipes not a yard from the waiting warrior, she steeled herself for what must be done.

With a massive thrust she threw all of her 8 lb body into the first latch and slid it open. The Nior chopped furiously at her but was taken by surprise. With effort she opened the second hatch and Jerrith sprung out join the fray. Shots ringing out spurred him to deal with the shooter and leave the first Nior to Gorus. A deck below, Alan rerouted the cooling hoses into the bellow pipe and called for parley - only to scald some enemy respondent on the bridge with a blast of steam. Jerrith took another shot before kneeling for a better shot, while the Shi’Ator commander threw the first over the side. The captain lost footing while moving to aid his human ally, but was luckily caught by Lord Delor of the Ueppah - his previous enemy.

The shooter was sprayed with lead until he succumbed. Nevosa and Lt. Margonar were still nowhere in sight. The four rebels on the top deck did see the slowly approaching ship nearly now in docking range. Several shadowing figures seemed to disembark from the alien vessel - unlike the Nior’s in design - and glide towards them.

The rest of the Jovian Saga

Continued from last time …

Alan and Jerrith were bond for transport once their wounds were tended. Squee, hidden in her master’s pack, watched as they were all transported away on the scaly backs of the strider beasts. Unnoticed, her small beady eyes were the only witness of the next few days across the Kyeta shiff.

They were brought to a vehicle of some kind, which from the Erven description would be a skimma. It was a not very much unlike an ancient trireme but with a skin of copper bands where wooden planks would be. No towering mast topped the vessel. Six sets of giant fins stretched from it’s sides and aft. Silvery fans with mechanical articulation alive with dancing arcs of lightning to keep the vehicle aloft three feet off the ground.

The two humans and her get seperated. She’s stored in a mid-decks locked pantry - the exotic scents and foods small comfort away from her friends. Days passed before she could sneak out to rejoin them. Only her nose could lead her through the slave driven musty holds, crewed by depleted-looking amphibions and fox-creatures, to the brig on the lowest deck.

The humans awoke well rested and healed, but bond. A grey skinned alien from Earth legend the first sight they saw - large black eyed and naked, humanoid only in form. It’s thoughts identified it as Koviannos, of the Kevinian species, another slave of the Ceph Nior war party commanded by Second Chiefson Lord Nevossa. Combining the human’s ingenuity and skill with the alien’s knowledge of the ship, they began to hatch a plan to escape.

The Shia’tor captive Darax was recruited, and committed his salamanderesque bretheren to the cause of escape. Numbers were on their side, although the Ceph were well rested, fed and armed. His captain, Gorus, approved but they were wary of their bondmates. The mammalian adversaries, the Ueppah, had killed many of his clan and may not be trusted. Leader Delor sent his own warrior to meet with the Earthers and ally to learn of the plan. He too consented to the agreement, with no word regarding his previous enemies.

Squee served as distration to lure the lower deck guard into an improvised trap sprung by Alan and Jerrith. Above decks, Koviannos poisoned an off duty Ceph and used his mental attacks with the captives muscle to overcome the warriors overseeing the engine hold, while the Earthers painstakingly craft a gear key to open the treasure hold of the ship.

Surprise grants them control of three fourths of the vessel. Only Nevossa, his lieutenant Margonar and four warriors are left in the top bridge - controlling navigation and with radio access, but the weary masses hold the stores, a Ceph captive and control of ship’s power. Victory is close; freedom is at hand - but there is still a fight in store. Alerted by the bellowing from below decks, the Lord plans his countermove.

To be continued

The rest of the Jovian Saga

Bigger than an idea, not fancy enough to be a cognition, more ingenious than a mundane thought is the brain baby. It’s something complicated, substantial and is going take some work to get out. “Mind shit” doesn’t reflect it’s probable beauty.

My reading of the new Starblazer Adventures RPG and my success with using a similar game system with my ancient fantasy Fate of Dominia campaign have tag team knocked up my creatively fertile mind. Enough cerebral sexual metaphors.

I game master sci-fi settings as a forte of mine and want to plot a new course. Could do Star Trek or Serenity , but really when you’ve written for a while, have your own blog and swam in the adoration of fellow gamers you kind of want to try the original.

My Jovian Chronicles is a so far so good stab at planetary romance, but it’s just one planet and the exploring the unknown theme of the genre encourages a narrator to create things as the story moves along. There’s no need to detail multitudes of exotic cultures when the player character protagonists aren’t native and would have no idea that they existed.

Many a novice has slaved to produce content then feel beholden to get their creation seen:
“You beat up the street thugs trying to rob you? OK, their boss commissions the notorious Barcavian Laser Monkey Assassin Cult on your asses!
“So, what looks like a camouflage green chimp swings at you from a rope by it’s left foot while booth hands and the other foot brandish black photon pistols … Piously.”

The premise is a great and gleaming socialist paradise advanced interstellar alliance of transhuman idealism - like these queers - is destroyed by a savage alien species from beyond. Four generations later, their descendants cling to life with salvaged technology in the hostile worlds that was once frontier territory. Grim pragmatism rules the day as humans and the species of the last alliance struggle to coexist or conquer indigenous aliens of the frontier and powerful new cultures they hadn’t know existed until now.

Space Dark Age is what I call this genre, suspecting that this is positively ripping off atleast a hundred other writers; but one can’t plagiarize in ignorance. Technology will definitely be borrowed, but I’m focusing on the dynamics to be setting. Nationalism is going to be a big thing for humans with the xenophobia one developes at having your civilization destroyed by the unknown. The older species of the neighborhood may view them as the invader. Resistance movements for the low-tech natives for having their homeworlds jacked is another angle. The rebirth of imperialism, the attempt to hold on to ancient ideals, unity versus freedom: they’re all there.

I think it’s a matter of making the factions - humans and not - that embody these themes and represent them mechanically. Those of pure human stock would be the neo-conquistadors with cultural aspects backing that viewpoint. Alliance crossbreeds - like Spock and Beh’lonna Torres types - would be looking to carry on their multicultural traditions of acceptance in contrast, and conflict. Other former allies regressing to a more feral nature and becoming the Goths of space - think the sackers of Rome, not pale pirates with black eye shadow. Ancient civilizations vigilantly watching their borders against this new sector riff raff, or sizing them up for exploitation.

I’ll be doing this in the future, perhaps weekly, since Technomancer Chad is going to be running Traveller for us - cock-blocking your Dominus. Any original ideas? I’m listening citizens.