The Shadow
Hero
Hello out there! Some of you may remember me as the writer of The Shadow Knows! and Life and Light, as well as a couple shorter things.
I've long wanted to continue Life and Light in a solo format, but I've been worried about bollixing it up. So this current game is a bit of an experiment using the Mythic GM Emulator, found here. (I'm also making use of Mythic Variations by the same company.)
The original concept was going to be an urban fantasy Champions game for our group way back in the day, which never got off the ground. My usual GM (SuentisPo) and I later intended to revive it in one-on-one fashion, but it ended up getting passed over in favor of another concept. But I've always liked the character and the setting, and the notes have been sitting there on my hard drive for a long time. I thought I'd take them for a spin to see how Mythic runs.
The results have been interesting - interesting enough to be worth sharing, I think. Mythic works by having you roll on a table to get answers to yes/no questions, and pairs of words to spark answers to more "Complex Questions". (There's more to it than that, particularly with regard to scene setup, but that'll do for now.) For yes/no questions, you set the probability of a YES answer, and see what comes up.
I've found that it generates genuinely interesting plot twists, provided one doesn't always do the most obvious thing but thinks things through carefully. Sometimes one needs to overrule the dice when they make no sense - or just not roll.
A more subtle difficulty is that it can be tempting to rush toward big reveals; knowing something important is coming up isn't a good enough reason to have it occur when the dice happen to bring it to mind. The present game suffers a bit from that, but not (I think) excessively so. (I'm developing some ideas of how to prevent this, by preloading the campaign "plot thread" list in advance.)
I've decided to keep the Mythic mechanical information in the game log to show how things evolved.
As mentioned, this an urban fantasy setting in the modern world. Magic and monsters are unknown to exist save to a few. I won't give many details now, as they come out pretty naturally in the text.
A quick word for those who may be allergic: The protagonist and a number of other major characters are fervently Catholic. Several other characters are fervently Protestant in the Reformed tradition. (Both traditions have operatives against supernatural evil.)
This first bit is actually a short-short I wrote as an adventure starter years ago. Note that the main character is a substitute teacher at a fairly traditionalist Catholic high school called St. Pius V.
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Marked Prey
Peter contained his sigh - wouldn't do to let the natives know he was restless. The class was getting more and more distracted by Mark, who couldn't seem to contain himself today. "Mr. Demarche." No response, not entirely surprisingly, as that's the teacher's name too. Mark whispered something to the guy next to him, and they both laughed. "Mr. Demarche!" Still no sign of recognition, though half the class was now pointedly ignoring Mark, or else trying to surreptitiously get his attention.
"MARK!" Mark jumped like he'd been shot and looked guiltily to the front of the class. "Uh, yeah, sorry Pete - I mean, sir." "Detention for you, young man." "But - I've got football practice?!" "Is that my problem or yours?" With a deep sigh, "Mine."
Pete stopped by after day was done, only to find that Mark had earned even more detention from another teacher. When time was up, he couldn't help feeling sorry for his little brother - the boy was plainly ready to climb the walls. Upon his release, he asked him, "Bad day?" (Meaning hyperactivity-wise.) "Yeah, really bad." "No hard feelings, I hope." "Nah, I had it coming."
"Need to work off some energy?" "Oh yeah - bigtime!" "Race you around the track for a mile, then." "You're on!" After quickly shedding jackets, ties, and dress shirts, the two were quickly running at breakneck speed, slowed only by occasional friendly insults and laughter.
Mark won, which naturally led him to razz his big brother for 'getting too old'. That in turn naturally led Pete to wrestle him to the ground and find the one spot on the back of the neck where Mark was still ticklish... Soon he had extracted a breathless, laughing, abject surrender, an admission of being 'too young' rather than Pete being 'too old', and a confession that he, Mark, could be an obnoxious brat at times. After that, Pete let him go and Mark lay there on the ground panting; they grinned at each other.
"Still feeling antsy?" "Yeah, but not as bad - thanks." "De nada. Try quieting down and focussing, like I told you." Mark closed his eyes, made a manful attempt to slow his breathing down, and gave it a try, but finally admitted, "I just can't do it right now, sorry." Pete ruffled his hair and told him, "No worries, bro."
A quiet voice interrupted, "Um, Mr. Demarche? Could I talk to you for a minute?" Pete looked up (and up) at Ryan Langley's hulking form, fresh out of football weight training. To his astonishment, the young man's face was screwed up and close to tears. "Ah, certainly Mr. Langley..." Mark looked between the two of them and offered, "I, uh, could stand to run a little more," and suited actions to words, doing a series of wind sprints separated by pushups.
Pete then stood up, brushed himself off, and asked, "What's on your mind, Ryan?" The boy couldn't look him in the eye, and seemed paralyzed with indecision; Pete waited patiently. Finally, after gulping down incipient tears, Ryan said, "Uh, well, you know how I used to be, um, different?" "Yes," Pete said quietly, "you've come a long way and I'm proud of you."
Ryan sobbed once upon hearing that, but recovered his composure; Pete gripped his shoulder. "Some guys... that I used to run with. They want me to deal drugs here at St. Pius. I keep telling them no, but they won't take no for an answer. I'm... scared, Mr. Demarche. Really scared." (He seemed ashamed to admit it.) "Do you think they intend to hurt you?" "If I'm really lucky," the boy said quietly. "I'm scared they're gonna kill me. Or... worse!" "Worse?"
The large boy shivered all over. "Yeah. There were all sorts of weird stories. I never really believed 'em, but... Last time, after they got done beating me up, they gave me this." He handed over a matte black circle of metal with a strange glyph carved roughly into it. Pete's gut tightened as he recognized the Shadow rune for 'Marked Prey'. It meant... any number of things, but all of them at least as bad as death, all right, and some much worse.
"Do you know what it means?", the boy asked anxiously. "Yes, Ryan," Peter said in a quiet, dangerous voice, "I know what it means." Strangely enough, that seemed to relieve the young man.
Without any real hope, Pete asked, "Have you thought of going to the police?" "I can't, Mr. Demarche! I've got a record, and... and I've had to do some little things for them, to keep them off of me." Once again he couldn't meet Pete's eyes... "I didn't want to, and I guess it hasn't worked out. I didn't know what to do... I'm so stupid!" "I understand, Ryan - and you're NOT stupid. But if the police can't help, what makes you think I can?"
"I dunno. But - I've heard them mention you before, like you scare them a little. And... I dunno, there's just something about you. Can you help me? Will you?"
Peter met the unhappy young man's eyes directly. "Yes, Ryan. I can and I will help you." Ryan sobbed for a few moments; when he stopped, Pete told him, "But I'll need to know everything you can tell me." Mark, for his part, continued to run and studiously ignore the two of them.
I've long wanted to continue Life and Light in a solo format, but I've been worried about bollixing it up. So this current game is a bit of an experiment using the Mythic GM Emulator, found here. (I'm also making use of Mythic Variations by the same company.)
The original concept was going to be an urban fantasy Champions game for our group way back in the day, which never got off the ground. My usual GM (SuentisPo) and I later intended to revive it in one-on-one fashion, but it ended up getting passed over in favor of another concept. But I've always liked the character and the setting, and the notes have been sitting there on my hard drive for a long time. I thought I'd take them for a spin to see how Mythic runs.
The results have been interesting - interesting enough to be worth sharing, I think. Mythic works by having you roll on a table to get answers to yes/no questions, and pairs of words to spark answers to more "Complex Questions". (There's more to it than that, particularly with regard to scene setup, but that'll do for now.) For yes/no questions, you set the probability of a YES answer, and see what comes up.
I've found that it generates genuinely interesting plot twists, provided one doesn't always do the most obvious thing but thinks things through carefully. Sometimes one needs to overrule the dice when they make no sense - or just not roll.
A more subtle difficulty is that it can be tempting to rush toward big reveals; knowing something important is coming up isn't a good enough reason to have it occur when the dice happen to bring it to mind. The present game suffers a bit from that, but not (I think) excessively so. (I'm developing some ideas of how to prevent this, by preloading the campaign "plot thread" list in advance.)
I've decided to keep the Mythic mechanical information in the game log to show how things evolved.
As mentioned, this an urban fantasy setting in the modern world. Magic and monsters are unknown to exist save to a few. I won't give many details now, as they come out pretty naturally in the text.
A quick word for those who may be allergic: The protagonist and a number of other major characters are fervently Catholic. Several other characters are fervently Protestant in the Reformed tradition. (Both traditions have operatives against supernatural evil.)
This first bit is actually a short-short I wrote as an adventure starter years ago. Note that the main character is a substitute teacher at a fairly traditionalist Catholic high school called St. Pius V.
-------------
Marked Prey
Peter contained his sigh - wouldn't do to let the natives know he was restless. The class was getting more and more distracted by Mark, who couldn't seem to contain himself today. "Mr. Demarche." No response, not entirely surprisingly, as that's the teacher's name too. Mark whispered something to the guy next to him, and they both laughed. "Mr. Demarche!" Still no sign of recognition, though half the class was now pointedly ignoring Mark, or else trying to surreptitiously get his attention.
"MARK!" Mark jumped like he'd been shot and looked guiltily to the front of the class. "Uh, yeah, sorry Pete - I mean, sir." "Detention for you, young man." "But - I've got football practice?!" "Is that my problem or yours?" With a deep sigh, "Mine."
Pete stopped by after day was done, only to find that Mark had earned even more detention from another teacher. When time was up, he couldn't help feeling sorry for his little brother - the boy was plainly ready to climb the walls. Upon his release, he asked him, "Bad day?" (Meaning hyperactivity-wise.) "Yeah, really bad." "No hard feelings, I hope." "Nah, I had it coming."
"Need to work off some energy?" "Oh yeah - bigtime!" "Race you around the track for a mile, then." "You're on!" After quickly shedding jackets, ties, and dress shirts, the two were quickly running at breakneck speed, slowed only by occasional friendly insults and laughter.
Mark won, which naturally led him to razz his big brother for 'getting too old'. That in turn naturally led Pete to wrestle him to the ground and find the one spot on the back of the neck where Mark was still ticklish... Soon he had extracted a breathless, laughing, abject surrender, an admission of being 'too young' rather than Pete being 'too old', and a confession that he, Mark, could be an obnoxious brat at times. After that, Pete let him go and Mark lay there on the ground panting; they grinned at each other.
"Still feeling antsy?" "Yeah, but not as bad - thanks." "De nada. Try quieting down and focussing, like I told you." Mark closed his eyes, made a manful attempt to slow his breathing down, and gave it a try, but finally admitted, "I just can't do it right now, sorry." Pete ruffled his hair and told him, "No worries, bro."
A quiet voice interrupted, "Um, Mr. Demarche? Could I talk to you for a minute?" Pete looked up (and up) at Ryan Langley's hulking form, fresh out of football weight training. To his astonishment, the young man's face was screwed up and close to tears. "Ah, certainly Mr. Langley..." Mark looked between the two of them and offered, "I, uh, could stand to run a little more," and suited actions to words, doing a series of wind sprints separated by pushups.
Pete then stood up, brushed himself off, and asked, "What's on your mind, Ryan?" The boy couldn't look him in the eye, and seemed paralyzed with indecision; Pete waited patiently. Finally, after gulping down incipient tears, Ryan said, "Uh, well, you know how I used to be, um, different?" "Yes," Pete said quietly, "you've come a long way and I'm proud of you."
Ryan sobbed once upon hearing that, but recovered his composure; Pete gripped his shoulder. "Some guys... that I used to run with. They want me to deal drugs here at St. Pius. I keep telling them no, but they won't take no for an answer. I'm... scared, Mr. Demarche. Really scared." (He seemed ashamed to admit it.) "Do you think they intend to hurt you?" "If I'm really lucky," the boy said quietly. "I'm scared they're gonna kill me. Or... worse!" "Worse?"
The large boy shivered all over. "Yeah. There were all sorts of weird stories. I never really believed 'em, but... Last time, after they got done beating me up, they gave me this." He handed over a matte black circle of metal with a strange glyph carved roughly into it. Pete's gut tightened as he recognized the Shadow rune for 'Marked Prey'. It meant... any number of things, but all of them at least as bad as death, all right, and some much worse.
"Do you know what it means?", the boy asked anxiously. "Yes, Ryan," Peter said in a quiet, dangerous voice, "I know what it means." Strangely enough, that seemed to relieve the young man.
Without any real hope, Pete asked, "Have you thought of going to the police?" "I can't, Mr. Demarche! I've got a record, and... and I've had to do some little things for them, to keep them off of me." Once again he couldn't meet Pete's eyes... "I didn't want to, and I guess it hasn't worked out. I didn't know what to do... I'm so stupid!" "I understand, Ryan - and you're NOT stupid. But if the police can't help, what makes you think I can?"
"I dunno. But - I've heard them mention you before, like you scare them a little. And... I dunno, there's just something about you. Can you help me? Will you?"
Peter met the unhappy young man's eyes directly. "Yes, Ryan. I can and I will help you." Ryan sobbed for a few moments; when he stopped, Pete told him, "But I'll need to know everything you can tell me." Mark, for his part, continued to run and studiously ignore the two of them.
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