The Ballad of Xortan Throg

Every now and then I write up session reports for the games that I run. Often, weeks pass and they end up unwritten, lost like tears in the rain. This is particularly the case when I run one shots, or short adventure sequences.

Humph.

However, over the past couple of weeks we've been playing some more Advanced Fighting Fantasy 2e – the game which occupied several months of our gaming time as the party recovered the Crown of Kings [final play report here]. These games will make AFF2e it the 'most played' system for our group over the past couple of years, beating a variety of D&Ds and OSR games (even when grouped together), WFRP, and games from the d100 family. That surprised me.

As you might have seen, I have been mulling over the possibilities of AFF2e quite a bit lately ('capping effective SKILL', 'task resolution' and 'more task resolution'). Most of these are prompted by my thinking that AFF2e might be a reasonable choice for a sandbox campaign, and a wish to iron out the kinks. While I am not sure that AFF2e will beat a good ol’ B/X derived D&D variant for sheer sandbox utility (reasons partially outlined here) with super easy NPC, monster, and encounter generation (assign a SKILL and STAMINA score, and… well, not much more), and with the tools for a longer term campaign in the Heroes' Companion (holdings, hirelings, etc.), AFF2e might not be a bad choice. And, being temporarily down to two players for the moment, and only having three or maybe four even on a good day, I figured that a system in which starting PCs were already pretty accomplished would fit the need of the moment.

So, yeah, AFF2e, sandbox, player freedom, blah blah blah. And then I pluck a 'programmed adventure' – you know, a railroad – off the shelf.

Not just any adventure, though. But the adventures in Dungeoneer. And given that I have Blacksand! and the (pretty rare) Allansia I have all the material for an 'adventure path' that heavily restricts player agency. Yeah!

Nah, but surely I could subvert that, no? As the campaign develops and as the players get a sense of the world, they will develop ideas of their options outside the scene by scene[1] progression of the AFF campaign. Anyhow, a fortnight ago we played Tower of the Sorcerer, the introductory adventure from Dungeoneer. And the map looks like this:

So, yes. Not much Jacquaying going on in that dungeon, but we played it straight. And there are moments when you can really appreciate how Gascoigne and Tamlyn were introducing new players to RPGs with this adventure. Sure, there are few moments in which the players are able to exercise real choice, but aside from missing that key feature of an RPG, it can serve as a useful education.

Let me go through the 'scenes' in turn.

1. Into the Forest

The PCs are introduced to their quest as they ride through the Darkwood Forest with Prince Barinjhar of Chalice, Morval the captain of the Royal Guard, and a handful of soldiers. Plenty of exposition, delivered through conversation between Barinjhar and Morval, but in truth there isn’t much for the PCs to learn. That Xortan Throg employs Goblins, and rides a Griffon, and sometimes his agents ride Giant Lizards, okay. But anything else? Well, there isn’t much information needed as there aren’t many choices for the PCs to make, so this is largely colour. Colour provided by a haughty prince and a gruff NCO.

To justify this beginning I had Grisheart – the swashbuckling swordsman played by A – and Kumchet Wavemane – the scholarly sorcerer played by D – having agreed to take the mission while deep in their cups in a tavern only last night. They are working off their hangovers as they ride, and this explains why the mission is only being explained to them as they near Xortan Throg's tower and why they only have 11GP between them.

And the mission? Rescue Princess Sarissa of Salamonis, who was set to marry Barinjhar. Why has Xortan Throg kidnapped her? Who knows.

2. Into the Crag

So, the PCs are given the task of sneaking into Throg's tower through a cave in the base of the crag, which Barinjhar heads to the front door to parlay and distract. Here, the PCs are introduced to a semblance of dungeoneering, but in truth nothing they do matters until they arrive at a cave. In that cave, which they must cross if they wish to progress, they will be ambushed by Goblins. They will be. How many Goblins? Lots and lots. And what can the PCs do? Well, according to the book, they can pointlessly roll dice until 'each Hero has killed two or three Goblins', after which 'the rest of the Goblins flee back into their tunnels. However, the Heroes ‘are not supposed to die here', so you can have the Goblins flee sooner. 'It’s your film' [1], is the advice. In other words, there is no way for the PCs to avoid this fight, and only one permitted outcome of this fight. The players make no decisions of consequence, and the dice that the players roll don’t matter.

I despise these types of encounters. But in this case, in which the designers presume that this will be some players first ever encounter with an RPG, the purpose of this encounter is to teach the players and the 'Director' the mechanics of AFF combat.

Of course my players subverted it. A had put a point into giving Grisheart 'Language – Goblin' at character creation, and so as the Goblins came streaming from their tunnels he shouted, 'All hail Xortan Throg!' Well, let’s dig out the old D&D 2d6 (so perfect for AFF2e) Reaction Table and see what happens. Confusion, a bit of time for the PCs to make their way over the cavern. And information exchange, as Grisheart bamboozled the Goblins, who had been told to expect adventurers, with the claim that they had come to see Xortan Throg to help him with his adventurer problem. A few Provisions sweetened the deal, literally.

In truth, I was always minded to allow the players to bypass this encounter in some way, if they came up with a reasonable plan – anything but have the players play out a scene in which nothing that they do matters.

3. The Wizards Tower

This scene involves a number of encounters.

The PCs have to get past a portcullis trap, signposted by a black-red bloody smear on the floor. With careful observation (no rolls - they are looking right at the spot and asking of they see a loose flagstone) they are able to bypass the trap by simply jumping over the trigger.

The PCs will pass two doors, behind which cower peasants, broken men plucked from a nearby village for experimentation. Although the book tells the Director that the PCs will hear no sound from behind these doors, I allowed them to hear a sobbing. You have to give players some information upon which to make a decision. They picked a lock and provided some comfort to one of the wretches, his mind broken.

Then there is a Nightmare-esque sword trap, in which two giant animated hands swing swords across the corridor in quick, deadly arcs. Both Grisheart and Kumchet decided on the simplest solution, which was to use their Dodge special skill to slip past the blades. Equal or beat 14… oh, not a scratch.

Then there are two doors which present the players with an interesting choice, a choice which teaches a lesson that all players should learn. Behind these doors are the Giant Lizard and the Griffon. Now, the PCs could probably beat the Giant Lizard (SKILL 8) in combat, or even subdue it and use it as a mount. But the Griffon is a different prospect. SKILL 12, STAMINA 15 and with 2 Attacks, the Griffon would probably have done for Grisheart and Kumchet. The lesson that Gascoigne and Tamlyn are trying to teach here is this; 'You don't have to open every bloody door. If it sounds and smells like there is a big monster behind that door, and if you have been told about that big monster earlier on, well, DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!'

And that is what my, more experienced players already knew, and so we didn't have a TPK here.

Then there is a final trap, an illusory fireball. This took Grisheart and Kumchet a short while to work out, but a scrap of material torn for Kumchet’s robe was the clinching evidence.

So this scene presents a few more choices for the players to make, and lessons that it is essential that players new to RPGs learn. They have to reason their way past three traps, which will involve asking the Director for more information, interacting with the environment both as players (are there any… does it look like…) and as PCs (Kumchet tears a strip from his robe and…). This is not just a useful lesson for fantasy RPGs in which there are traps, but any RPG as the ‘description-question-description cycle’ of the 'information game' is often missed by new players who treat the first description as ‘total information’ and jump straight to statements of action.

4. The Guardroom.

Another fight, this time with an indeterminate number of Orcs and Grudthak the Ogre. Gascoigne and Tamlyn have given Grudthak some pretty decent lines, and this should teach new Directors to give their NPCs, even those that are most likely destined to die before the encounter is done, some colour. And the Orcs and Ogre are also doing something as the PCs arrive – eating a roast Goblin and gambling – which again is a good model for the new Director to follow when the come to design their own adventures. 

Grisheart and Kumchet cut down the Orcs – SKILL 5 in no time – and Grudthak politely (well, not really, he’s insulting the PCs all the time) waits until the PCs have finished with the Orcs and can gang up on him. He might be SKILL 8, but he’s no match for- KCH-ZZAP! Yep, no match for a ZAP spell causing 3d6 STAMINA damage, and so Kumchet drops to big guy just as he is warming up.

Swigging from his Potion of Stamina (ZAP costs 4 of Kumchet’s 12 STAMINA points), the doors on the far side of the guardroom swing open and a voice bids the PCs 'Welcome!'

5. The Wizard’s Chamber.

Okay, so now we have Barinjhar and Xortan Throg describe their evil plan to the PCs. Barinjhar has arranged for the disposal of Princess Sarissa so as to avoid Chalice falling under the domination of Salamonis. Fair enough, I guess, but he should have just killed her. The PCs have been hired to lend credibility to Chalice’s rescue attempt. And Xortan Throg? Well, I guess he just hates Salamonis.

Now that is one evil wizard!

Exposition over, Barinjhar leaps into the fight. At SKILL 11, he is a tough opponents, and I have given him decent armour too. Grisheart struggles – having an effective SKILL of 9 – and Kumchet helps out with some magic. Throg, meanwhile, sits and waits – unless a PC attacks him. When the PCs have dealt with the prince, it becomes clear that in the finest Fighting Fantasy traditions Throg, though exceptionally powerful, has a vulnerability. Each time that he casts his Force Bolts at the PCs, the incense burners on either side of his throne flare up. A and D are no mugs, and so charge at the incense burners, dodging Force Bolts along the way. In AFF2e Force Bolts cannot be dodged, but then who said that evil NPC magic has to work symmetrically to that used by PCs? Incense burners smashed, Grisheart and Kumchet have no problem dispatching Throg, But, whaaa-? It turns out that he was nothing more than a hollow mannequin. They rescue the princess, and to nobody's surprise, an image of Xortan Throg appears in the fireplace to vow revenge. Job done.

Post-Credits Scene: How is Tower of the Sorcerer? Well, is linear, and there is not much player choice. BUT, the adventure introduces new players and Directors to both the game mechanics and the 'information game' at the heart of RPGs. It teaches players that not every door need be opened. It shows Directors that they can add colour even to an encounter with a handful of humanoids in a square room. And in the encounter with the 'Big Bad' it presents both players and Directors with the idea that an encounter need not be resolved by the PCs lucking out on the roll of the dice, whether against a high SKILL opponent or a special skill test with negative modifiers. Indeed, resolving an encounter through dice is rather boring. But encounters can be about playing the information game then making choices that circumvent the powers of the enemy. Or whatever is the particular hazard or obstacle. Oh, and Tower of the Sorcerer can be – quite comfortably – played in an evening, an underlooked quality in a beginning RPG adventure that will involve participants who don't know the rules and who are likely unused to sustained play.

Final Credit: Grisheart and Kumchet will return in Revenge of the Sorcerer…  

[1] AFF1e's great drawback – in my view – was its insistence that an adventure in an RPG was like a film, with the Games Master being a 'Director'. Okay, there are a few mechanical issues too, but the 'RPG as film' conceit bleeds though into the advocated Games Mastering style, with advice to the Director often – but certainly not always – veering close to the negation of player agency in the pursuit of a particular 'story' outcome. 

  

Ugly Beginnings

A few weeks ago we resumed our regular fantasy adventure gaming, starting a Magic World game set in Fighting Fantasy’s Allansia. I had recently picked up the ‘World Builder’ Bundle of Holding, which contained the fantastic Tome of Adventure Design by Matt Finch. Before our first session I spent a very happy hour or two rolling on the tables in Book1: Principles and Starting Points, generating a panoply of potential starting points for the first adventure. In the end, I settled on a mission to recover the ‘Skin Mandala’. More on that next post.

A, D and C generated their characters. Magic World is quick, but the process is still too long – with these players, anyway – for my taste. The 'with these players' is an important caveat; Magic World character generation is fast and straightforward, as rather than assigning each skill point individually it assigns them in big chunks according to ‘culture’ and ‘profession’. As far as equipment goes, I was an especially generous Chronicler (referee) when it came to equipment, especially with C, who wanted his character to have all sorts of potentially expensive bits and bobs, including an Elvish dictionary and a spyglass, on top of his metal armour!

A rolled up Nia, a thief that she imagined as an adventurous grave robber. D rolled up Cedric Tanner, an ambitious bandit. C rolled up Doncho, a dispossessed minor noble from the Vale of Yore. Unfortunately, as I let them assign their stats and allowed the limited point swapping set out in the rulebook, we ended up with some characters with some serious… problems. Doncho and Nia both had an Appearance (APP) of 4, while Nia and Cedric both have an Intelligence (INT) of 8 (which in Magic World is human minimum!). Doncho has a pigeon chest, six toes on each foot and a terrible lisp, while Nia is balding and constantly dishevelled – no matter what she wears it appears that she is dressed in someone else’s clothes. Both Nia and Cedric speak in pretty crude, broken Common.

A party of much promise…

So, there they were, drinking away their last silvers (I am generous, but in exchange for all that gear they were certainly going to be skint) in their inn, the Black Elf Moon near the New Bridge in Salamonis, when a tall, expressionless man with a brass hand approached them. He was Pak Pao, manservant of Darmand the Sage, and his master had an offer for them.

Next: The Skin Mandala.

Wham-bang, thank you Mampang! [part two]

Yo, ho, ho, me trumps!

I've been spending a little too much time playing Assassin's Creed: Black Flag. I could be reading good fiction, or painting miniatures, or... Or anything. But instead I am cruising around the Caribbean trying to collect every last sea shanty and hidden treasure chest.

But back to Mampang for the final session of the Crown of Kings campaign.

The party ended the last session captured by the Mampang Guard and brought to see Captain Cartoum. Their Adventure Ends Here. Or well, it likely ought to have done. But as we broke up the penultimate session I said to the players that they needed to think very hard about how they were going to get out of this very sticky situation. Following the between session conversations on Facebook, I was not optimistic.

BUT, many sessions ago I had allowed Ho Lee to spend Experience Points creating a new Sorcery spell. The AFF2e rulebook explicitly advises against this, but in the context of a one-off 'adventure path' I figured, 'why not?' And so Ho Lee's magical experiments had added COR to the Sorcery spell book, an analogue to GOB and YOB. Where those created GOBLINS and GIANTS from the teeth of those creatures, COR brought forth a MANTICORE. When word had reached the Archmage that Ho Lee had very publicly and effectively demonstrated this novel sorcery, he was interested in seeing the innovating wizard for himself.

And so, despite Mopsy's quite frankly hopeless plan to convince Captain Cartoum that this was all a dreadful misunderstanding - that despite killing quite some number of the Archmage's minions, disguising themselves are guards, and refusing to surrender, they were there to enter the service of Mampang - the party were not summarily executed a mere flight of stairs from their goal. No, like any good villain, the Archmage demanded that they were brought to him, and, in his genre-appropriate arrogance, dismissed the guards.

[This bypassed a number of interesting encounters, but the party were not going to have a chance to see those. It was this, or a game-ending consequence. I am very happy allowing players to run themselves into TPK. And with these players, TPKs and near-TPKs are not uncommon! But then I do not normally run a linear campaign.] 

The party were in the Archmage's library-cum-observatory with just the villain and his manservant, Farren Whyde. The Archmage offered the party the Crown of Kings, if they would tell him the secret of the COR spell. Mopsy was up for taking the crown that floated in the air before them, but saner heads prevailed and the Archmage grew frustrated. With the party hesitating, on edge, ready to attack the Archmage, there was a wet ripping noise behind them. The 'Archmage' cowered behind his desk as the body of Farren Whyde split in two to reveal a NETHERWORLD DEMON.

Boss Fight!

But Boss Fights can be boring. They are not a point in the game - most of the time - where the players are able to make any more significant, interesting choices. At this point, it is No Retreat, No Surrender! D hovered his finger over the Big Red Button - as the Demon began to whittle away the PC's STAMINA reserves the ZED spell was readied. What would it do?* But in the end some rather lucky Critical Hits from Cramer and Mopsy snicker-snacked off a couple of points of the Demon's SKILL, and the foul thing fell under the swords of the Heroes of Analand.

In the gamebook, the players could either summon the Samaritans of Schinn (the 'good birdmen', which the party bypassed - to be fair finding the good birdmen rather than the bad birdmen is a 'left or right' decision), or resurrect Farren Whyde and have him summon the birdmen. Anything else necessitates the player fights his way through the now alert Mampang Guard - an impossible task. Not wanting this adventure to play out like the end of Return of the King, I had two options, 1) present the party with wave after wave of Guards, a pointless, hopeless battle that would demand another session of play that would contain no reward and little in the way of meaningful decisions, or have the Samaritans of Schinn show up at the window of the Archmage's Tower. 

Flap, flap. 

"Squawk! Need a lift?" 

Epilogue

Deciding this would be the end of line for these adventurers, I asked each player what they planned their character's long term future to be.

Ho Lee, with the benefit of a few armfuls of the Archmage’s books and paraphernalia, secluded himself in a tower in the wilderness and delved deeply into magical secrets. He was killed many years later by a party of adventurers, who then sold his library in the book markets of Gallantria.  

Cramer, still driven by Slaang, God of Malice, decided that he would seek the leadership of the KLATTAMEN tribe of the Baddu-Bak Plains. By force of violence, Cramer became chief, but his rule was short-lived. Mistaking a hearty respect for violence for a tendency towards cruelty, Cramer abused his subjects, and was lynched after just a few months.

Mopsy, who the spirit of Khare declared to be the new Hidden Lord, was ever the good and noble(?!) knight. Conscious of his duty to his sworn lord, he returned to Analand and persuaded King Arkle to raise an army to allow him to annex Khare. As the pennants of Analand approached the walls of the Cityport of Traps, SULPHUR GHOSTS boiled from the walls, scattering the army. Mopsy was never heard of again, but legend has it that a blind beggar claiming to have once been a famous knight now lives in the slums of Khare. 

*I was set to have the ZED spell transport them to The Pit, where they would continue the battle with the Demon. If they won, I might have been tempted to run an 'Escape the Pit' campaign. If they had lost, well, at least the Demon had been banished.

Wham-bang, thank you Mampang! [part one]

And so, sometime before Christmas, we came to the end of Mopsy, Cramer, and Ho Lee’s adventures. We left them with Naggamenteh the Torturer mutilated lifeless body at their feet. Heading deeper into Mampang, the party encountered the obligatory independent trader.

I swear, there are more independent shops in the citadels of Titan’s Tyrant-Wizards than there are on the average British High Street. Ooh, there’s topical for you.

Nylock offered a variety of odds and ends for sale, and the Party quite reasonably assumed that at least some of these would prove useful in ways that are impossible to anticipate. [This is one of the legacies of the gamebooks – designed to be replayed, the reader accumulating knowledge on each attempt – that works against meaningful player choice in a tabletop RPG] Ho Lee bartered for some spell components, and Cramer bought the two candles, one apparently ordinary, the other a BLOOD CANDLE. According to Nylock, that is.

The party then, perhaps a little gullibly, followed the signs for the ‘Inner Sanctum’. They passed through a room that magically deadened all sounds and dimmed all light, before arriving at a, well, bedroom. The bed, table and other furniture was covered in a thick layer of dust. The party ignored the warning signs and headed straight for the wooden chest that they spotted.

A heavy portcullis dropped down, and ALL the party are trapped inside the room. The release lever was in a different room. By the book, this was the end of the line for Mopsy, Cramer, and Ho Lee. Aww.

Consider the ‘Responsibilitiesfor Failure’ and the ‘Consequences of Failure’. In this case, while the mistake was the Players, but the consequences of their failure was game ending (one of my complaints with linear adventure paths), not something to be experienced as part of play - if we had played this as a mission within the context of a sandbox we could all have had fun rolling up new characters and playing out the Archmage’s conquest of the Old World. So I fudged it…

In the style of Indiana Jones, SNAKES began to pour through the crumbling mortar between the stone of the far wall. The Party defeated the snakes, not without cost, and began to explore the hollow behind the wall – a Snake Nest. This involved some suitably paranoid, tentative exploration, ropes tied round waists and all. If only they had been that careful when entering the room…

Some impromptu demolition later and the Party had engineered a deathtrap-cum-shortcut straight to the third set of Throben Doors. What was it that Naggamanteh told them about the doors? That the danger was not as it seemed, but it would burn those who believed it was? Or something like that. D, playing Ho Lee, correctly inferred that whatever they saw when they opened these doors would be an illusion, and that they had to betray no sign of doubt in their conviction of the illusion’s unreality. Bravo! Pity not everyone in the party was listening to the wizard.   

Ho Lee threw open the third set of Throben Doors. The room beyond was filled with a raging inferno, a door visible on the other side. At this point, the book advises, “You should at this point ask each player in turn what they are doing. If the player says they will run or walk through, they will be safe. If a player asks a question back, says ummm, err etc or otherwise prevaricates, that Hero will be burned by the flames.”

Referee: Ho Lee?

Ho Lee (D): I walk through the flames to the door.

Referee: Cramer?

Cramer (A): I follow Ho Lee.

Referee: Mopsy?

Mopsy (C): Ummm. Errr. I try to protect myself with my shield?

Referee: Errr, okay…

“Hesitating Heroes will take 1D6 STAMINA damage immediately, and another 4D6 STAMINA to reach the far side of the room.” 5D6 STAMINA damage? Oh my. Oh, hang on, there is more, “In addition, the Hero will be ignited.” Hahahaha!

Mopsy suffered 2D6 STAMINA damage. His wavering disbelief was strengthened as he watched Ho Lee and Cramer walk unharmed to the door on the far side of the room. See, this is why I prefer sandbox-ey games to adventure paths – let the PCs suffer the consequence of their actions in a context in which those consequences can be enjoyed by the Players, even as the PCs are burned to a crisp.

With one slightly charred knight, the Party opened the door to the next room. There was no light. The room was not just dark – the light from the inferno did not penetrate the room at all. Cramer lit one of the candles that he had bought from Nylock. The room was illuminated, and the party saw that the room was filled with sharp blades, spinning saws, scything pendulums and razor-sharp wire. I think that it is safe to say:

Thing is, the ‘blood candle’ is a trap too, being named for its thirst for blood. As Cramer - Cramer the Fortunate, a thief with LUCK 13 - attempted to cross the room the candle flickered. The room went momentarily black at a crucial moment. Ouch! To say the least. The Party was more than slightly bloodied before they tried lighting the other candle, and found a steadier source of light. Still the blades taxed the Party’s STAMINA, before they reached the next door.

“We open the door.”

And I was thinking, “Don’t you want to listen at the door first, or come up with a plan of action, or…” But they threw open the door. And were faced with a room full of GUARDS – fifteen of them in fact. Five per PC. Spears were levelled inches from the Party. The Sergeant ordered them to put their hands on their heads and surrender.

“We fight.”

“What?! Haven’t you seen how dangerous it is to be outnumbered? You are all wounded.”     

“We fight.”

“Okay. As you reach for your sword you are immediately jabbed with a spear.”

The book says that Heroes who do not surrender will be immediately wounded by three spears. I had them wounded by one. A little pointer. I don’t like ‘plots’ that *require* the PCs are captured, but Players should also realise when their PCs are outmatched, and not bank on the Referee saving them… oh, hang on, that is exactly what I am going to do!

Again, the Sergeant calls for the Party to surrender.

“We fight.”

Bloody hell.

Well, the fight then. Ho Lee summoned a MANTICORE (many sessions ago, I let D spend a lot of Experience Points on creating a new Sorcery spell – let’s call it COR) that immediately began laying waste to the Guardroom. Cramer was driven, bloodied and unconscious, to the ground and the Party, dragging Cramer, retreated back into the Chamber of Night. That being the magically dark room filled with sharp objects. Ho Lee poured a POTION OF STAMINA down Cramer’s throat while Mopsy held the door shut. They had only a few moments to think of a plan.

They realised that they were still wearing the uniforms of the Mampang Guards. But embryonic plans to argue that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding never really developed. After all, a Manticore was still tearing Guards to pieces just beyond the door that they were desperately holding shut. C started to describe a plan that seemed to involve Mopsy taking all his clothes off, but that was quickly vetoed. The Guards were about to burst through the door. There was no way back, over the blades of the Chamber of Night.

They were trapped.

Didn’t we have a lovely time // the day we went to Mampang

A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way // And all for under a pound, you know

Actually, the PCs had lunch in the kitchens of the Fortress. Despite the quite frightful possibilities, Ho Lee’s adventures in evil cuisine passed off with disappointingly little consequence. The luck of the dice sometimes does fall the way of the PCs. And for under a pound? Now that would be a bargain, given the price gouging rip off merchants that pass themselves off as traders and innkeepers in the Shamutanti Hills.

How on Titan did the PCs get into Mampang? Well, the last we heard from the party they were about to try the 'Chewbacca Gambit'. In fact, I’m pretty sure that D, playing Ho Lee, did utter the line, ‘We’re fine, how are you?’ and, ‘Boring conversation anyway,’ during the three sessions it took the party to reach their fate deep in the Fortress. That said, my memory is sketchy these days – despite my ‘it were better in my day’ shtick, that’s probably the multiple concussions more than it is age.

The first session involved negotiating the three courtyards of the Fortress of Mampang. The first courtyard is mostly empty, with the first set of magical Throben doors requiring merely requiring a key. Easy peasy; the party searched the rooms around the gate, made mincemeat of some Dark Elves for no reward, but found the key nonetheless.

The second courtyard is a much more interesting place, filled with the kind of colourful encounters that are the essence of the early Fighting Fantasy books. Gambling guards, a pathetic beggar, a mysterious column, aggressive Red Eyes and treacherous Sightmasters. The PCs had been told by the guards on the main gate that they needed to go straight to Valignya, First Assistant to the Lord Treasurer of Mampang, to pay the tax on their ‘booty’. I’m not sure that Cramer would appreciate being described so…

Throughout this game the party never really acquired the ‘world sense’ required to adventure in Titan. Set a goal – whether it was cross Kakabad or find NPCX – and they would pursue it single-mindedly. That's probably a very good strategy when given a mission in the real world. Unfortunately for them, Titan is a *very* strange place. Dismissing a wretched beggar or a strange shop as unimportant with regard to the pursuit of goal might work in the logic of the real world, but on Titan (not least because of the legacy of the gamebook structure), YOU can never know what might be found pursuing those little diversions.

Death, quite possibly. As a legacy of the gamebook structure it is often the case that, on Titan, players must make decisions without sufficient information, and the decisions are therefore meaningless. Do YOU open the door? Do YOU go left or do YOU go right? Do YOU approach the beggar? In gamebooks it is often the case that acquiring the necessary information necessary is achieved by way of (repeated) failure. And I don’t care what you all say – in a game failure can be fun.

YOUR Adventure Ends Here. Roll up a new YOU. See my adventures in failure here.

That works... for a gamebook; as much as some of the ways to fail in a FF book are 'unfair', I am pretty confident that I would feel cheated if gamebooks were routinely 'won' on the first play. But then,when playing a gamebook there is just YOU, so playing again is simply a matter of grabbing a new sheet of paper, rolling four d6, and returning to section 1. But in a multiplayer tabletop RPG (for which you have assembled your friends in the face of the demands of real life) there can be only one attempt to recover the Crown of Kings, else the success or failure of the quest, in having no consequence, has no meaning. If there is one thing that the Arion Games version of Crown of Kings needs, it is a GM willing and able to saturate the adventure with the kind of information (clues, hints, foreshadowing, and the obligatory confessions extracted by torture) necessary for the players to make informed, meaningful decisions and avoid (though good play) the multitude of possible TPKs. I got better at this as we played, though I did swallow my principles and ‘rescue’ the party a few times, something that I would not have done in a living sandbox. But then my living sandbox would never involve the kind of deathraps with which the Archmage had peppered his Fortress.

Scan of picture, by John Blanche, borrowed from Fighting Fantasy Project, which, coincidentally has just finished its own playthrough of the the Sorcery! gamebook series.

First though - Valignya and the tax. Curiously, his room is found off the second courtyard beyond the chambers of a monster trainer. I redrew the map somewhat, to make it possible for the residents of Mampang to pay their dues without having to get past a murderous MUCALYTIC. Despite the utterly unhelpful monster trainer, the party made it to Valignya's room unmolested. Valignya was a fat man living in superficial opulence, with ornate fabrics and elaborate trinkets on every surface; the accumulation of tax paid in kind. He demanded a cut of the value of the 'prisoner', which the party paid, but the taxman then demanded the prisoner herself; he would either add Cramer to his retinue of slaves, or he could use her to enhance his credit with those who reside deeper in the Fortress. The party resisted, naturally enough, demanding the honour of turning her over to the master torturer in person. Valignya surreptitiously tried to poison the PCs, but failed (never underestimate high Luck scores). Shifting nervously, he decided to take the profit where he could find it, and demanded a 'door tax' if he was to give them the information they needed to pass the second set of Throben Doors and find Naggamanteh.

"Alaralatanalara!"

A GM should always change the names found in a published adventure if they are unpronounceable. Alara-whatnow? Few things are worse for immersion in a fantasy world than a GM who needs ten attempts to pronounce a word. Ahem...

But at least this was a magic word, not the mangling of an ordinary name that looked good when written down. And with that magic word, the second set of Throben Doors opened harmlessly and the party found themselves in the third (and final) courtyard of Mampang. From this courtyard the party enjoyed a diversion in the kitchens of the Fortress, before heading straight for the torture chamber. Opting not to open doors unnecessarily, they managed to avoid meeting the good BIRDMEN, the Samaritans of Schinn, and a crowd of bad Birdmen, loyal to the Archmage. They managed to avoid an amusing romp in a room full of mutants. Instead, confident that the goal that they had set themselves was, without question, the necessary next step in the adventure, they made straight for the torture chamber of Naggamenteh.

He looks bashful. So they bashed him in. Scanned image again borrowed from Fighting Fantasy Project, by John Blanche.

An OGRE - and an unusually ugly one, even by the standards of his species - Naggamenteh is not used to bargaining when he doesn't hold the whip hand. Literally. This encounter descended into a fight pretty quickly, but facing three hardened adventurers, the Ogre didn't stand a chance. Begging for his life, the party did as all good adventurers would do - they improvised, employing the material at hand. The material at hand was some of the most sophisticated torture equipment on the surface of Titan. They soon had one dead, mutilated Ogre and a warning that the magic that guards the third set of Throben Doors is not what it seems.

Next session: the party meet an obligatory Fighting Fantasy trader, avoid three deathtraps (just, well, kinda), before engaging in a most ludicrously futile fight.