Thursday, 30 January 2025

Navigating Paintings - a review of the Rogue Trader CRPG

I bought this for Christmas and was playing it a bit every evening during my temp job, then I lost that job unexpectedly and at the same time UK got paralysed by dirty snow. I was depressed and  frustrated because I thought the game screwed me out of an achievement, so I made a decision, a really BAD decision; I decided to restart, use a mod to activate ALL romanceable characters across gender and remove jealousy, and re-start the whole game with a new character - a gloriously fancy noble with a high fellowship and moneymaking skills and rock bottom toughness and willpower and commit myself to playing the whole game again as the fanciest boy imaginable. 

And that is what I did, for much longer than I expected, about two weeks I think, though time got a bit formless during the experience, and now I stand before you, finally free from the Koronus Expanse, having completed the whole game, or as close to whole as one persona can reasonably get on one playthrough.

 

Raszard

I have deleted Rogue Trader. Never let me play a CRPG again. 

 

Vast

RT is a vast, ridiculously fat, byzantine structure. Its sheer weight, scope, and the interconnectedness of all its multifaceted systems is both the flaw and the draw. The systems sing when they interrelate in interesting ways that provokes more than the sum of their parts. 

Draws; The gigantism is appropriate for the Warhammer universe and the ever-collapsing Imperium of Man. It actually makes you feel like a Rogue Trader, desperate ruler of a small empire, drowning in problems  and facing everything with the fractured morality of the 41st Millenium. 

Flaws; There are multiple intersecting types of crunch and grind, (which I probably made worse by downloading DLC and leaving ALL romance options open), from grainy grindy battles towards the second half, to the literal accountancy job of progression. There is an Imperium-appropriate companion quest in the game where you literally have to stand in line for days in an Administratum complex and its more fun than the actual bureaucracy of levelling your characters. 

The systems of Rogue Trader are; Navigating Paintings, Reading and Clicking, Murder Chess and the lesser systems of Navigation, Space Battles, Empire Management and Storybooks.

 


 

Navigating Paintings

An isometric system like the old Infinity Engine classics but with the scenes and arenas modelled in 3D and with a swirly camera so you can spin around, and limited 3-dimensionality. 

By limited I mean there are sometimes two 'layers' or levels to a game, with advantageous sightlines, ways to get up or down to and from places and ways to bottleneck and control areas in combat, but the areas you run your little figure around when you are just being a Rogue Trader and talking to people are the same as those you use for combat, to the games advantage when gunfights erupt in places you thought were safe, which they do constantly in the first part of the game, or turn into negotiations, which is more rare but does happen sometimes. 

Most potentially-tactical areas have one or two aspects or elements you can use in combat, like a secret or less obvious flanking path you can find by exploring, or a perch to put a sniper on, and in the later game, some limited interactable elements, like stairways you can materialise and remove if you are in the right place, and objects and items you can mess with to alter the circumstances of a fight. 

They are pretty. Really actually beautiful, and characterful environments, and are all limited in size, very much not procedural or simulated 'real scale' environments but more like 'stages', 'scenes' or chessboards with the narrative being made up of journeys between these stages. And that is both good and bad, because there is no insane wilderness wandering through procedurally generated hexes, like you might have had with earlier CRPG's - but the game has to communicate its sense of scale and vastness through these many journeys between limited stage plays - making it more 'like' a play, in which a story of great events takes place, but  the scene moves from 'court' to 'battlefield' to 'wilderness' with only the inference of an in-between. 

There is a mild conflict, or at least, a managed polarity, between the complexity, detail and baroque nature of the painting-scenes and the gameplay. The 'scenes' are a rhapsody of wild detail, from fecund jungles set with sapphire streams where snakes wriggle between the feet of your characters, to spiky space elf megacities (Drukhari are very 90’s), to the endless pipage and grating and plates of a cogboy world, and this deep overflowing of detail and specificity makes them very good at imbuing the game with the spirit of 40k in all its heaving byzantine gigantism. 

But the tools and methods used for navigating these baroque digital paintings are highly limited, specific and well-honed from making many previous CRPGs. There are traps, which can be found and disarmed by your not-D&D-thieves in the same way as the strangely-rectangular goblin traps in Baldurs Gate, (they are actually a little more complex), fiddly hidden things that glow or are outlined so you can click on them, and secondary routes to places, (but very rarely tertiary or more, there will be an obvious way forward and, if you explore and click about the margins, maybe a less-obvious way, but not the infinity of choices presented by, for instance, a real forgeworld or space ship interior). 

Of course actually making functional use of all this visual and spatial detail would make the game virtually unplayable - investigating every crevice in something like a hive world map would be mindbreaking, though it does leave open the potentiality for a much narrower more 'arty' game with a few very detailed maps and a large amount of context-dependant executable detail in them, I suppose something like being a belowdecks investigator looking into smaller scale dramas.

 


  

Reading And Clicking 

The next most common activity in Rogue Trader is reading dialogue text and clicking one of a range of options. It’s through this that you feel much of the 'reality' of the world. The dialogue is solid, the character writing somewhat better. 

An interesting case of 'known unknowns'; dialogue will sometimes highlight when an option will require a skill test to pass, and will sometimes visibly grey out dialogue options based on how you have played the games morality path - so you could have said this, if you were more Iconoclastic  or more Puritan etc, but aren’t, so you can't. The game is letting you know and making it clear there were other possible paths, but I think there are also truly hidden options, lost and found though high or low intelligence or fellowship scores, though done or undone events and relationships with various characters and organisations. there are times when the game wants you to know you are making a choice with certain consequences and times when it will hide the existence of that choice and those consequences. 

The question of knowing and not knowing when you are making a choice and what it might mean goes down to one of the core conflicts I felt when playing the game. 

if you've played infinity engine games or their ilk before the slightly natural/unnatural sometimes looping gamic structure of the dialogue its more questions-and-answer than more natural dialogue and flows more like an interview. 

There is almost too much dialogue for me to simply review it. The main impression it left me with was its own giganticness, the sheer mass of it, and the incredible organisational systems that must be required to arrange all of it, and to update it. On my second playthrough I added the void shadows expansion and that adds characters and integrates their conversations into the game throughout the whole thing. I almost want to watch a documentary on how Owlcat manages this stuff. 

To return to the known and unknown element; there are characters we meet as NPCs who can clearly become companions, as this is set up in their introduction, we can lose companions, though it’s usually very explicit when this will happen and usually has to be a deliberate choice, (many reviews of the game criticise the fact that your clearly one-way aligned characters stick around way too long if you are obviously going in a different moral direction and don't respond to that enough),

and there are a handful of secret companions who start out as NPCs and can possibly be recruited if you  have the right alignment and pick the right dialogue options. 

I know that if it was easier to 'accidentally' lose companions, like if the battle sister sees you becoming heretical and either leaves or even tries to kill you, this would probably draw complaints, but the addition of more unknown unknowns really adds to the feel and flavour of experiencing a living world, and knowing, or not knowing, precisely who might be recruitable, deepens immersion.

 

Murder Chess 


Though all chess is murder chess I suppose. 

The square-grid turn-based combat is one of the most fun things about the game. The combination of moves, actions, attacks, cover, mutual support, area control etc, makes the fights feel very lively and fun, especially in the early game when you only have shit guns and your characters haven't levelled to absurdity. 

The combat brings together a lot of the 'material' aspects of the game; all the weapons you found, recovered or traded for, the elaborate procedure of 'dressing your dolls' with the best possible armour and clothes, and the mildly pleasurable autism of balancing boots that give plus one movement if an adjacent character is upset vs shoes with knives that let you kick someone in the nuts and so on

The weapons also 'feel' chunky and appropriate. Sister Argenta’s familiar bolter sound was so loud I had to go into the settings to turn down effects. 

Positioning and planning your little chess pieces, preparing sightlines and trying to control areas with grenades and magic powers, trying to make sure your psyker or nutty tech priest only explodes the enemy and not you, planning when you will pull out your special sword for a super swing, or organising your character build so you can dual-attack, trying to position your officer character so they can hand out buffs and extra movements, setting things and people on fire, is great fun. 

I played this on normal difficulty and by the last part of the game most fights were too easy to be interesting in themselves. A few stuck out as having abnormal or wild difficulty. I could have turned the difficulty up, to make things more interesting, but by the last act the sheet length of the game and the number of battles I had to fight became a weight on its own - many had turned from something I 'got' to do into something I 'had' to do to progress (also I probably should have turned off the non-attack animations, the game does give you the options for this), and the general deep sweaty graininess of the combat and character progression system also became a weight of its own 

If you are a different kind of person I think playing on very hard and continuing to carefully analyse and progress your characters might still be fun 

A few interesting points; 

The true currency of the Krononus Expanse is.... GRENADES! Especially sustained area-effect grenades like smoke, toxin or fire. These are incredibly useful for dealing with big fights where your best tactic will be to try to lock off areas of the board and control the flow of enemies into choke points where you can maintain your characters in close proximity to aid each other. Even at the early points, I was the master of a city sized starship and hope of the dynasty, but I kept running out of grenades and especially useful ones. Like, I can have a gun that fires alien dreams or whatever, and apparently we never run out of ammo for that, I get infinite reloads, but I cannot get a fire grenade to save my life - I'm meeting with the Governor of a whole world who is offering me a trade deal and I'm looking for the option to ask for a handful of grenades. The same is true of melta-charges; specific demolition items that can open boxes and sometimes in open up new paths and areas of the board - if you are trying to 100% the game I think you can actually get soft-locked because there are not an infinite number of melta charges in the Koronus expanse - you can only buy or find so many so be careful. 

Sightlines work surprisingly well and intuitively. Sidling up to a corner to peek round is something that actually works. Turn based character will hide behind something and pop out to shoot. Neat red lines indicate all their possible sightlines, snipers and careful skilled single shot ranged weapons users can often fire into combat but your normal close range guy and mid-range people will have real trouble doing so. Having a sniper is fun and satisying, they are someone who can deal with enemy snipers, which is very useful, reliably dish out high damage on key enemies, but there is again a slightly grindy quality to carefully selecting a target, then one after another sequentially applying all your different buffs, each time the camera swiiiiiings across the battlefield and you have to drag it back, then clicking 'fire' and hopefully watching some goon hiding behind soft cover a mile away totally evaporate. Again it’s the crunchyness and the infinity of mild effects, the careful application of the same buffs in fight after fight, that might be something you 'get' to so, but might turn into something you 'have' to do. 

 

The Space Marine character, once you get them, is surprisingly mid. Or at least, they are a very chunky tanky guy who hits mildly hard and shoots reliably, which sounds like a disappointment but is actually how space marines tend to play on the tabletop, (unless they are optimised for something else); very very survivable heavy infantry that shoot reliably at close range and fight ok, but less good at any of those things than your by-now more specialised characters. 

I feel like the combat system, and Owlcat generally, really need to make a Necromunda game. In terms of personalities, drama, large scale intersecting systems representing a complex world;

they have worked that out, and the early fights are better specifically because you have crappy tech and weapons, limited buffs that relate more clearly to the imagined world, and limited character options so you have to think more about using them, which fits well with Necromunda. Owlcat even managed to get their engine to create a 'dark' level where you can barely see anything and your little lumen servo-skull follows your cursor, which surely they could adapt into Necromunda. Their visually dense and carefully made maps are already good, the one limitation is dimensionality. Most Rogue Trader area have two levels and that’s about it, and characters cannot pass 'underneath' other characters if they are on a gantry or something, so really its one level but at different heights, which would be a challenge for underhive play, but their ladders and movement up and down work really well, and the often fancy oblique sightlines and stuff like throwing a grenade from above actually function well 

 

Crunchy Levelling 

The levelling is really where the systems gigantism and hyper-detail brings together its arguably-less-good aspects. I feel like computer games are a good place for the very crunchy but still human-operable systems like the Final Flight system Rogue Trader is built on, since the machine can handle the endless series of buffs and details but the core number system is still comprehensible enough that humans can fiddle with it. 

In RT you level up across three 'wheels' and you level up a LOT. You start with basically a core class which often relates to your characters lived background; Soldier, Psyker, Officer etc, then once your characters max that out you go to a second wheel that is a bit more abstract; ‘Arch-Militant’, ‘Executioner' ? Then once you max that out, you go to a third wheel which is nearly the same for everyone, the 'Exemplar' wheel. There are fifty something 'levels' in the game and five 'chapters' so you will be levelling regularly. 

ITS VERY GRAINY 

Some core choices are simple, like 'you get this magic power', 'you get dual-wield (its shit without the right stats and buff)' and 'you get another action point' or 'you can wear heavy armour now', but a lot, a lot a lot, are more like 'you get times two this derived value in when X equals double efficiency stack'. (THE FUCKING STACKS). Basically if you have a high IQ, or just really really like excel sheets and deriving figures, you can build probably some insane broken characters to do specific things, but if you are like me, in the middle of the graph or just fucking basic, the 'normal' sensible choices run out quickly and it’s very easy to soft-lock or bollock up a character, like did you know an 'Executioner' specialises in deepening and exploiting long-term damage like people being poisoned or on fire? So if you want to select that when it comes up, you really need to have a character that is good at those things, or a bounty hunter gets big bonuses for personally taking out characters they have marked, so they need to be mobile or have strong range. 

None of this is super-difficult, and is quite fun to begin with, but it’s the main drift of the game where its scale, detail and length all add together to make it more of an annoying weight rather than a fun weight. 

Did I mention that all of your companions all level at the same time? You can only ever take six on a mission - the rest just hang around on the ship, (presumably training hard), so, every time you level up and get back to the ship you have to go through the HUGE lists of feats and incremental buffs and special tricky powers, which are usually a bit different from character to character, compare those with your companions core competencies, stats, improved stats from items, favourite weapons, the way you tend to use them in fights, and, if you are a drama queen like me, the type of person you think they are, and you synthesise these all together and click 'this' or 'that' option from a huge range and hope you haven't accidentally soft-locked yourself from not being able to wear power armour or something in twenty levels time (which I actually did with my main character, and had to re-train them, which you can do, but again, you have to choose EVERY level again, which is a ten minute job). And you have to do this for ALL AVAILABLE CHARACTERS with every level-up. THE FUCKING CRUNCH! 

This is the part of the game most like work. I still had fun with it, especially in the early to mid game. It went along with the whole 'dressing your dolls' aspect but it became less fun as the game went towards its end and for characters I didn't 'like' or rarely used, I just ended up clicking whatever to get them out of the way. I did go from 'yes, another level' in acts one and two to 'oh my god fuck not another  level' in acts four and five. 

[A side note; the instability and violence of imperial society, and the constant intrigues and real physical dangers at the top of the pyramid, (in the first parts of the game you get attacked pretty regularly in high and low status areas, even to the extent that it becomes a bit silly), all does fit with the background, and does make sense of imperial characters taking sword and pistol literally everywhere they go. If I was any of these people I would be taking my looted drukhari blast pistol into the bath and to bed because of course someone is going to try to assassinate you in the bath, it’s the best place for it, and of course demons will materialise in your bedroom during a warp transition, and of course the local rebels will try to shoot you down over the governors palace, where else would they do it? yes I am taking my fucking chainsword to the dinner reception, and so is everyone else, are you fucking stupid?]

 


 

The Lesser Systems 

Navigation 

This is neat. It’s a really simple system but encapsulates an interesting paradox of navigation and exploration in games. A terrible incident destroys your dynasties knowledge of the stable warp routes of the expanse, and warp routes in this area shift regularly anyway, so what you have is a map with a bunch of stars with mysterious names, some of which you know are important to you,

and are a handful of potential warp routes already highlighted. Every time you reach a new system you can hit a spooky button to chart new routes which sends out a magical sonar blip which might highlight some new routes between places, maybe some whole new systems you didn’t know about before, it also gives you Navigation points, which represent your navigators skills and knowledge gained from going to new places, and you can use these points to either make warp routes less horrifically-dangerous,  or to forge brand new routes to discovered or already known systems. 

This balance of discovery to opportunity to making-safe, all bound by your rate of exploration itself

works... pretty well. Like a few things in RT, it can be possible to accidently soft lock yourself out of things and in my first playthrough I didn't understand what I was doing, accidentally burnt my points by making an inconsequential route green and then got attacked by demons everywhere else. But its a fun system generally. 

The paradox about game navigation I feel it highlights is the discovery of the known. Because actual totally undiscovered places in real life, I mean places undiscovered by anyone, are actually very dull and not useful. At takes sustained human interest and activity to turn a totally unknown place into one where exciting and useful things might be found and exploited, and where dramas might happen

so, like in a lot of games and stories, what you are exploring in the Koronus expanse is the forgotten rather than the unknown, and the game deepens this in many ways - there are lost imperial ships, forgotten frozen colonies, strange bunkers, abandoned mines, lost cities, mysterious research sites around impossible objects etc. This adds to the deep sense that the border of the imperium is not something it is expanding into, but a deep tidal zone, that imperial power expands into and retreats from on the scale of millennia, reaching forth when strong or driven, fading away at other times, only to  be rediscovered by new ages, that what you are exploring, others have explored, many times, and will again, and this add to the sense of tragedy and deep time that creates part of the sorrowful nature of the setting and which feeds into the morality or sense-of-self of its characters. They are truly the children of the ruins. 

 

 

Space Battles 

There is a cool ship combat system based on the Battlefleet Gothic rules, where space ships manoeuvre in curves and arcs, trying to get each other in their prow or broadside ranges, and in the case of imperial ships, trying to set up the rare ramming opportunity. Few things are more fun than the occasional chance to Plow madly into the prow or stern of some giant chaos battleship or mysterious alien artefact, one thing I miss from my original character was her crazed voice lines from ship combat, she went off like a lony supervillian with every battle; 

"CHAAARGE THE LANCES! FIIIIRE!" 

Winning these ship combats gets you access to certain planets and spaces. Planets either have nothing, but you get xp for discovering them, some have exploitable resources to feed your growing empire, some have dialogue-only away missions where you send guys out to investigate mysterious ruins etc, and some have actual full adventure zones. 

Ship Battles interlock with two factions in the game you encounter in various forms; the Navy and the Flellowship of the Void (Pirates), each of which can trade you various handy things if you build enough of a reputation with them. 

 

Empire Management 

Once you have a few planets under your belt you can start making horrific management decisions about what projects to build there and how to govern them. Depending on how good a ruler you are, how much resources you can gather etc. There are limits on what you can build, some projects getting you certain rare resources, special items, (my late-game familial power armour came from one of these options on my main planet), and locking off other later options. 

There are also mystery events or crises that require your personal intervention, which means you have to hare off across the map again to return to a colony to tell them to stop being idiots about something. Having a meaningful empire means doing a lot of governing, so I hope you spent those navigator points carefully to green the routes between your main planets. 

A fair amount of the mid-game of RT is being in the middle of something important and getting a message saying your need to race across the expanse to deal with something else. 

 

Storybooks 

The last system is an interesting one. Certain events or situations will trigger a multiple-choice storybook section. This is like a chronicle or a tale told from a certain perspective, of a time someone encountered the Lord  Captain, where your protagonist is a character in their story. 

So at various points, you might be about to invade a world to free it from chaos and the story of the invasion is told from the perspective of one of the grunts on the ground with your decisions and skill tests deciding how the invasion goes, or at another point your get the first person story of a Drukhari Scourge given the contract of assassinating the mon-keigh leader, with your character being the subject of their hunt and your choices deciding how the hunt goes, or as the tribal retelling of the story of when the great leader came from the stars and what they did. 

These are interesting for a variety of reasons; they offer a relatively quick and cheap method of dealing with huge events and complex situations without having yet another dialogue tree, they build the sense of gravity of the reality by showing your character from a variety of different perspectives - to a tribesman or soldier you are a semi-mythical figure, they challenge your skills and abilities with the familiar known and unknown unknowns, in most dialogue and painting-navigation sections, your character can 'use' the skills of your retinue to deal with challenges, which leads to you carefully developing and selecting characters to be good at certain things, if you think there might be traps you need the Aeldari ranger high perception to find them, and someone good at demolitions to disarm them, if there is warp fuckery you might need to bring the inquisitor, but in the book sections is it’s your abilities alone that decide things. 

In my first playthrough my character was smart, strong minded and good at shooting, so they were an icy intelligent type that made them a competent sniper on the battlefield, gave them perhaps hidden dialogue options from a high intelligence and let them face down scary threats with high Willpower. But shit fellowship, persuasion and commerce, so actually not that good at a lot of 'governing a star empire' events. My second character was a noble fancy boy with super high fellowship and commerce, but I actively tried to keep his willpower and toughness low for as long as possible, so he was rubbish in a fight unless he had people to command. 

These storybook sections really highlighted the difference between them, with the icy sniper Isabella dealing relatively well with physical stuff when isolated, but being bad at persuading people or altering events, while Valerian Von Valencius, my posh fancy boy, was in absolute pantsshitting terrorgdanger with solitary adventure sections, but actually very good at managing people, doing diplomacy and managing his empire.

 


  

Love And Failure - Did I Fail The Game? 

I played this game one-and-a-bit times. Once with my first character, when I nearly go to the end of the second act, and again with my second character, where I played the whole thing all the way through. 

My first time I really didn't know what I was doing and made a bunch of mistakes, soft locking myself out of certain things and generally being non-optimal, but my sheer lack of knowledge about what I was doing lead to me being much more immersed in every individual choice as that character

even though the game was going less well overall. I was overwhelmed by events and systems and everything, but this frantic sense meant that I felt like my protagonist; constantly on the move

uncertain, not knowing what choice or option might lead where, weighting my dialogue choices and strategic choices more like a person than a player. 

On my second run I knew more about the game, already knew what would happen in much of the first two acts, and my character was deliberately unbalanced, designed more to be a particular person with a strong set of abilities and weaknesses. I also downloaded the Void Shadows DLC, which added a whole bunch to the game. 

In some ways Valerian Von Valencius felt more like a rogue trader, while my first character, Isabella, refused to take a bath, Valerian did so immediately, presumably as a noble it was simply his nature, and he ended up bathing with every member of his entourage over time, but in other ways, though he was, in some ways, more optimised to be a 'person', he, (meaning I), had lost our ignorance, our unknowing of what meant what and what was to be. I was less immersed, because I knew more. 

It’s very hard to play a game and not try to optimise yourself, but that very instinct is in conflict with a deeper desire or impulse; the need to really experience events, from the first time, un-warned in advance and unknowing of their consequences. 

Throughout the game RT deliberately plays with veils, giving you some choices with clear causes, consequences and mechanics, others blind, some given without reason, others removed. You never really know when the game will respond 'as a game' or when it will simulate a world, with strange long term consequences resulting from apparently minor choices or effects. This slightly shadowy 'magic trick' quality seems another curious paradox of play, one central to the RPG experience;

the strange gift of ignorance. 

I did cheat at times. 

There are cheats I defend and would do again. Using the toybox mod to activate ALL romance options across gender and removing the jealousy feature; why this is simply how a true Rogue Trader would play. 

Likewise, there were a handful of annoying multiple-choice shit riddle questions where you have to either relentlessly examine tiny fragments of environmental information and then postulate from those the correct sequence of answers with no indication of which in the sequence might be right or wrong, or just brute-force them. I looked those up and I feel fine about it. They were shit challenges. 

The deeper question of what it actually means to play blind, and what and where the value of a game lies, of the fundamental difference between meeting an apparently complex situation for the first time in ignorance, and therefore treating it as fundamentally more-real, and meeting it for a second or more times, and the deep conflict within myself of wanting to experience vs wanting to 'get things right', I am no closer to resolving. Though perhaps by accepting it I can manage it better.

 


I got a Goth Girlfriend, and a hot Mutant Bae, but they both left me in the end…..

Saturday, 18 January 2025

Chaos Goblins - VotE Remastered Development

Anarchists of the infinite dark. Chaotic where nothing so uncertain should be able to survive. By chance alone they thrive, by chance they die

Russ Nicholson


Physical Appearance

Are these monsters even Goblins? No two are quite the same. Most have no heads. Instead, big gawping faces occupy the centre-mass; lumpy spheres ringed with limbs; long dandling legs and nearly indistinguishable arms spreading out like spiders limbs. Others so crooked-backed that they are grown into hoops, even rolling along on their knobbly spines, bouncing the ground with pugnacious faces on each turn. Others long and loopy, with fifty eight vertebrae and six to eight limbs, who scurry like centipedes along the ground.

The chaos goblins sunless skin stained black with crazed tattoos, full-body or half-body black paint, tattooed vantablack ‘gloves’ or ‘boots’ so that they seem to move along like ghosts, or one half blackened, the other kept pristine. Others graffitied with crazy notions and scurvy pictures. In off hours the Chaos Goblins tattoo each other and themselves with whatever they have to hand; blood, brain paint, ash, ichor, mondmilch. Don’t confuse it with a Culture.

The Chaos Gobs have monocoloured eyes. Either utterly black, like a sharks, or and infra-white sclera and iris that backscatter unlikely radiations into visible light, meaning the whites of their eyes, which are the whole of their eyes but for the pupil, glow or stand out clearly in the dark, especially when there is no other light at all. Such goblins often paint or tattoo themselves utterly black, leaving only their eyes. They find this hilarious.

Chaos Goblin eyes can also ‘bulge’ and ‘flex’. Rings of muscle around their cartilaginous orbits, and very robust jelly, mean the eyes themselves writhe and warp in shape, sometimes pushing and squeezing the ball into a peeping scope, or even ‘closing’ entirely, making the face a blank,

Somewhere equatorial to the eyes, swivelling radar ears turn like blinking chameleons. Beneath; their twitchy noses poke and point this way and that, leading the way, and under those the mouths are full of teeth of knives, while the Goblins carry knives of teeth, along with the most bizarre assortments imaginable; umbrellas, hats, man-skin gloves over tattooed black hands, geegaws and trinkets. Always jiggling and poking, snorting and chuckling are the Chaos Gobs.


Russ Nicholson

Culture (?)

Horror Goblins banished from the sun for deeds too-queer. Worshippers of primordial chaos, and the chaos Dukes they find in worms, in pies, in dung, in eyes… Even Goblin Lands won’t take them in. Thus came they, blindways, nightwayes, west of Midnight, north of Quiet, down down down to the Underground, where no sun shines and dreams and dark are one.

Even here nobody likes them! (Maybe the dErO, who use them as hunters and deniable ‘proxies’, (like a rabid frog on a candyfloss leash). Or at least they try to. The Chaos Goblins find the dErO hilarious, but they find everything hilarious.)

Anarchists of the Veins. Hell Gobs! Terrorists! Friends to slime and slug. Goblins who got a little too dark. Chaos! Or expressions of it.

They must engage in some kind of economic activity, if only for the fun of it. They seem to have…. stuff. As well, they must have some kind of irregular pipeline to other multiversal goblin cultures - they have some animated weapons and goblin guns. They have met David Bowie. (The actor, not his character in Labyrinth.)

Too twee? Too cringe? Too twenty-twelve blog post? They don’t care. In fact, that makes it better. In the whole of any Veins-World, the Chaos Gobs are the only creatures who may have met David Bowie, or will even know who that is, when even the Player Characters don’t.

I’ll say this; the Chaos Gobs have so much respect for Chaos they will usually respect a bet, and the more inane and chaotic the bet the greater respect it has. Cards & Dice? = FOR CUMPS. Lets bet on flies landing on shit-piles, or whose eye pops out first, or who can eat more of a live snake, each starting at a different end. Yes, the Chaos Goblins will respect a bet, for the five to thirty minutes that makes up their short-term memory. After that they stop caring at all.

But that doesn’t mean they will chase you down. They are chaotic after all. Might simply doodle on the walls, or sing a song, or eat each other. Best to run while you have the chance.

Pathfinder

Material Culture

Wherever they are the Chaos Goblins ‘Chaos Aura’ (see ‘Mutational Effect’ below), warps and alters the environment in various ways, but they also make raw physical changes that anyone could do.

In the living expression of course, its hard to tell where madness ends and the extra-real beings. The Chaos Gobs certainly don’t know.

They shit everywhere, paint the walls with shit. They poop in many colours. They paint the walls with Brain-Paint, (see below), and who knows what that might do? And they paint the walls with paint, if they happen to have any. They carve passages into goblinish shapes, their halls are like cathedrals where only gargoyles and grotesques are allowed. Gieger would enjoy them, and yes! He was one of them! They bore random holes to nowhere, build castles made of moon-beams, imported from the seas of the Imprisoned Moon (How did they get them, since they are so poor in every other way?)

So, imagine this; a ridiculous cathedral with the windows being crazed paintings in luminescent shit, or actual para-reality doors…

Yes they might have some treasure. They might have the treasure. Of course they don’t know what it is, or care. Its in a bucket and the bucket is what they value. They will chase you TO THE ENDS OF THE FUCKING EARTH about that bucket!!!

On the move you might find them hiding Man-Camels in a hole that wasn’t there before, or collectively inside a box that shouldn’t be present at all. (Many Chaos Goblins can climb out of one thing.)

Storyforge art

Tools And Weapons

Man-Camels

Trepanned or brain-screwed naked human beings with elongated limbs. Used as beasts of burden.

Brain-Paint

Vital Chaos Goblin tech, and a major source of conflict with Soft-Heads who also needed those brains. Brain-Paint is made from the brains of wizards, or anything analogous to a wizard in Goblin eyes, mixed with.. whatever really. What a Chaos Goblin paints with Brain Paint becomes conditionally-real. A tunnel painted on a wall becomes a tunnel, a hole becomes a hole, a princess becomes a princess (a Chaos Goblin version of one anyway). This may be how Chaos Goblins gain irregular access to other Goblin Realms; by just painting them on the wall and walking in, then getting out fast before they forget they can’t really be there. The useful effects of Brain-Paint for non-chaos-goblins are highly irregular, and it doesn’t work at all if not painted by a Chaos Goblin. The negative effects usually work.

Living Weapons

Chameleon Whips actual chameleon tongues make their targets appear differently, Sting Stones are wasp-souled sling stones, Spider-Guns like silk-spewing bagpipes. They are rumoured to use tame (?) Ungulix as hunting hounds.

Madlights

Important in the Veins, Chaos Goblin lamps are always varicoloured and always move madly, either flung and whirled about the head, or actual living bugs and floating frog-balloons lit from within but still trying to hop. They are carried like child’s balloons or like toys, or streamers, bouncing and whirling about.

Other Items

Potion-Pots, Sticky Pokers, Fiddle-Diddles, Hidey Box, Boomerangs, Hooks, Grease, mall-bought shuriken, Madness Pipes.

Russ Nicholson

The Power of Chaos!

Existence for the Chaos Goblins is a dark, violent, anarchic comedy that never ever ever ends. A cruel, surreal, picaresque from which they cannot escape, from which they cannot wish to escape.

They are like a corruption, a Cancer on Reality. Causality bubbles and warps around them. Extremities of chance become common, rare events; regular, humours change. Their physical environment also warps, becoming emblematic, expressionist, arch and Caligarish, somehow performed.

Those who are captured by Chaos Goblins, inevitably monstered, stripped, tattooed, altered, are either made into man-camels, or slowly devolve into Chaos Goblins themselves, as they go utterly mad. These ‘Changed Ones’ are the Chaos Goblin shaman who perform their Grand Transformations.





Chaos Mechanics

Chaos Goblins don’t roll dice, they just flip coins. Heads is a crit, or the highest number possible from the equivalent die roll, tails is a fumble, or the lowest number possible. A die-equivalent can be managed by making all ‘odds’ crits and high and all ‘evens’ fails and fumbles.

All Chaos Goblin action oscillates between bizarre flukes of terrifying good luck, and the most laughable and deranged failure, with nothing in-between. Their 'magic' is the ability to act like cartoon characters.

Chaos Aura!

The Chaos Aura around a Chaos Goblin randomises the effect of any spell cast upon them. Usually this just randomises between any spell of the same level, but on a d20 roll of 20, it randomises between all possible spells of any level.


Knightmare Miniatures

Chaos-Tricks!

Thankfully, each Chaos Goblin can only use one Chaos Trick at a time, and usually only one Chaos Goblin can use each Chaos Trick in each encounter.

It takes actual concentration to do it. But more important than concentration is circumstance. In the words of Roger Rabbit, ‘it has to be funny’. Though ‘funny’ for a Chaos Goblin doesn’t mean funny for anyone else.

Still, in effect, if a Chaos Goblin uses a Chaos Trick during an encounter, that Goblin can only use that one power, and only that Goblin can use that ability. Otherwise it wouldn’t be ‘funny’.

Elongating Arms

Extend your arms like a huge accordion! Or like long loopy animated limbs! Or like big mad snakes!

Inflated Body

Huff and puff and a Chaos Goblin can inflate itself just like a balloon and float about in the same way, waving its limbs for some level of control. Pierce it and it goes ‘vvvveeeeeeeeee’ and flies about like a balloon, instead of collapsing like a body of equivalent mass.

Deranged Disguise

A Chaos Goblin can disguise itself by dressing very crudely as whatever it wants to be seen as. They can even disguise themselves from the Dungeon Master. For instance the Dungeon Master might say;

“In the middle of the battle, a hot princess appears and starts making lovey dovey eyes at you?”

“Where did she come from?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

Bear in mind; Chaos Goblins are mad, stupid and cringe, so while their disguise might be impenetrable in a metatextual sense, it will often stand out as being utterly retarded. (But look out for those occasions where it isn’t.)

Harmless Liquefaction

A Chaos Goblin can be liquified and poured into something, before being decanted and reassuming its form. This honestly has limited combat utility.

Hiding

A Chaos Goblin can hide behind something that has no space to hide behind, like a long thin rod, or under a rug.

Limb Fix

A Chaos Goblin can lose a limb and replace it with something else that is sort of like a limb, simply popping or screwing it on or in. This might be sword, a hook, a bone, another Chaos Goblin or anything really.

Impossible Shadow Puppets

A Chaos Goblin can make shadow puppet animals or beings on a cave wall and use them as actual creatures.

Grand Transformations

A Shaman is required for this, or someone the Chaos Goblins think is a Shaman. A Big Ritual takes place and one, or more, or all Chaos Gobins are transformed, either randomly, or all into Bat-Goblins, or Fish-Goblins with smiling goblin faces, or Mist-Goblins or are agoblimated into a single Mass Goblin Mega-Goblin.



Tuesday, 24 December 2024

RayMen - VotE Remastered Development

The RayMen, slight and fast, aged-but-ageless, backs inherently stooped, with bright, intelligent eyes. 

At the edge of the comprehensible world, where darkness sculpts itself an active form, the RayMen feel a purpose that strikes like lightning in the tempest of their daily lives. The flame to live is quickened and fed on pure melodies of light and space. These are a people without shouts, without tears, without hopes, without regrets. They value only four things; Life, Light, Techne and The Deed. 

 

Rayonist Lilies (Goncharova,1913)

Life-Preservers 

The RayMen value any living thing. For them, life is the spine of reality and justifies the world. All else is a fiction; only life and action, child of life, are authentically True. Life is what is real. 

Life knows neither good nor bad nor justice, so it is a cold charity the RayMen offer. They may be the only people in the Veins trying to keep you alive as a matter of principal, but it is principal, not affection. There is nothing personal about it. Neither do they specify ‘safe’, ‘sane’, ‘free’ or ‘well’. Only ‘alive’. Neither are their offers free. RayMen can offer food and simple tools to keep a wanderer alive, but this is a debt which will not be forgotten. Not the crushing compound-interest debt-slavery of the Knotsmen, but a precise repayment of resource, pursued with calm but existential ferocity over terrible reaches of time. 

Almost alone of the cultures of the Veins, RayMen do not practice slavery, not quite. They acknowledge its legal existence. To do otherwise would put them at permanent war with every other civilised power and they will trade slaves, if they think such trade more likely to secure the slaves life. 

 

Masters of Forbidden Slime 

RayMen culture much of the fungi, lichen and algal growths which feed on magic, heat or other things, and which form vital pillars of the food chain for many civilised location in the Veins. What magics they have interlace with technology and this is used to enter strange and forbidden realms, seeking biological bounty; bugs which feed on dreams in nightmare lands, the black crops of hell or the entropic slimes of the Final Eons. These are manipulated and cross-bred with normative lines in the attempt to create stable food-types for the great caverns of the lightless depths. 

The successes are always curious; airborne plankton which feed on music, consumed in-turn by swarms of the ghosts of insects, themselves devoured by micro-bats which digest their sprightly food into material calories. Physical fungi that feed on sentience itself, producing great fields of fertile mycelium tended by hollowed-out P-Zombies. Summoned grey tendrils which pierce the veil to drink the deepest darknesses, leaving only glitched zero-grey, but which can be harvested with scythe and sickle. 

Even the positive and stable relationships can produce strange ontological pollutions, but such is the price of life. The ‘control’ of crops and fertile systems possessed by the RayMen forms part of the triangle of their power; if you want to eat, sooner or later, you come to them. 

And of course, they will assist you. 

 

La musica, Luigi Russolo

The Calcinicus Doctrine 

Life-supporting warfare means an emphasis on incapacitation rather than destruction and the RayMen dedicate their brilliant minds, and the power of their techne to such ends. They are the masters of gas, legalistic avoidance, illusion engines, chemical alteration, madness-cannons, blinding rays and other forms of non-lethal warfare. 

Many RayMen wear their Gas-Masks semi-permanently. Gas is potent in the closed atmosphere of the Veins and they make use of incapacitating mustard gas, tear gas and chlorine, in bomb, grenade or spray forms. Or, when necessary, in mass-dispersal tanks. 

More strange and complex technologies are used; Sleep-Grenades are extensions of RayMan alchemical-engine technology, turning words to instant sleep, so that whoever talks, or thinks in words, in their dozing-field, falls right asleep. Peace-Hogs are mines, grenades and sometimes spiked blunderbuss-guns firing crystal slivers that dissolve into a harmless calm-imbuing ichor in the blood. Madness-Cannons are weapons of last-resort while Illusion-Guns are portable expressions of RayMan stealth technology. Expert Illusion-Pistoleers use twin guns, one in each hand, modulating a single sense each. In the Veins, vision is not always the most significant sense and smell, echolocation and ‘air-sense’ or ‘volume-sense’, (really a fine form of touch), can all be more important, depending on target and situation. 

RayMen have more terrible and destructive technologies, but these are reserved as weapons of a last-resort. Due to their quasi-pacifist doctrine, RayMen have no concept of limited warfare. Once the last of their boundaries has been crossed, they commit every art they have to the dealing of absolute death. 

 

Weapon-Trade 

RayMen never trade their weapons. Rewards for handing them in are high. Bounties for those who, for whatever reason, find themselves in possession of such, but do not hand them in, are much higher.. very extremely high. Making the pursuit of, or trade in, stolen or recovered RayMan techne a trade in death. 

Neither do RayMen take weapons in payment, regardless of circumstance. 

 

Giacomo Balla, Street Light

 

Lords of Light 

RayMen see the Veins as Space and Light, highlighted by Mass. They consider themselves lucky to live here. As they see it; no-one from Above knows what space and light truly are. Those who live beneath the stars drown in both, merely using each; space to ‘keep things in’, light to ‘see’ other things. But space is not a piece of luggage. Light is not an errand boy. Light Is

Active, alive, it races faster than a waterfall, soundless and eternal. Space Is

Infinite, all-holding, reality-imbuing. They have their own quality. 

RayMen value gems, but only for the light within the gem, like thoughts within a mind. Beauty worked from Space and Light has all the properties of a real force like gravity or heat. The body is superficial, accidental. Tone, brightness, occluding or refracting, that is all. The eyes but not the face. 

 

Lume-Traders 

Here Below, they dominate the Lume-Trade. Spider-riding RayMan pedlars and traders always carry wild arrays of luminescent gear, from the simplest biological lamps to the subtlest artifices, to the queerest magics. 

They own the Light-Banks; vaults of luminescent material, as well as precursor elements and mechanical necessities of every kind. Great armoured tanks of Whale-Oil. Racks of candles. Forests of glowing fungi and aquaria of sparking eels. 

A common RayMan tool is their Lume-Conversion mechanical calculator; a semi-cylindrical brass device of startling capacity with every possible form of Lume describable via complex key-sets of its brass buttons and levers. These are re-set at every Light Bank and themselves transcribe their conversions into the banks own engines to keep right the grand conversions and calculations of all the Light within the Veins; an ever-replenishing equation of economic, and near-religious importance to the RayMen. 

 

Umberto Boccioni, 1912


Techne 

The RayMen have ever been masters of Techne. Not quite systematic mass-produced technology, more like the conceptual structures of spells, cloaked in metal, described in systems and moving parts. RayMan techne can be used by others, if they can work out its non-intuitive activation, and often seems to have a little more life in it than a mechanical device should; clicking, ratcheting, re-setting and unlocking at curious times to unknown stimuli. 

 

Rays 

The power of the RayMen is bound within their Rays; lances and scatters of light and force that spear out to blind, illuminate, transform, to pierce stone or spike minds. 

Stone-Rays are common alchemical weapons – enter a cavern to find blasts and spars of fragile stone exploded from a central bastion, now frozen in place, slowly crumbling. Relics of a battle with RayMen besieged atop the central tower. 

Sky-Rays emit an imperceptible force that causes the eye to perceive a lucid sky-blue field for a moment. This signals death and whomever saw such light will soon sicken and slowly die. A weapon of last resort. 

White-Ray projectors suck in air or water and transform it to a lance of bright-burning white phosphorous which sticks to flesh. 

 

Other rays can look through the body to perceive broken bones, or hidden items, or can even peer through stone as if it were glass, or can count time from stellar wonders far below the earth, or can burn or cut at a distance. RayMen can travel by rays they say, though only in straight lines, and can transmit words, images or thoughts, again, only ray-wise. In the Caverns of the RayMen the rays crackle and flash amongst eternally moving machines powered be electrical stromatolites washed by alkali canals.

 

Futurist Flower 1 by Giacomo Balla
 


Strange Alchemical Engines 

Engines of transformation, alchemical capacitors - little cornucopia. These are the keys to the RayMens rays, to many of their weapons and tools. Few outside their ethno-culture know they exist and less know how they work. 

Night-combustion engines burn darkness into light creating ontological pollution; fumes of pale shadow that seep across the stone and curdle in the earth driving the stones insane. A scientist who believes in no tomorrow is a dangerous thing. 

 

Trogoloautomata 

Clock-Spiders and Pneumo-megapedes. RayMen ride aachines made in the shapes of Veins predators and wanderers. Hyper-clockwork built inside impossible ‘long-cabinets’ and meta-cupboards’ with the aid of tame Substratals. Incredible grinding and clockwork sounds echo into an imperceptible distance inside the machine. Pipes contain more pressure than went in. If destroyed, they explode like bombs. 

Bright with blinding searchlights and the loudest travellers of the deep dark due to their terrible grinding sounds and infinite clicks. This is almost a sensory assault in Veins-culture and only the RayMen, the Lume-Traders, could get away with it. 

Keeping damp off the machines is a continual problem. Scrub them down with the Evaporation Ray. 

Horizontal Volumes by Umberto Boccioni, 1912

 

The Deed 

To Raymen the past is dead; the future is nothing. Can you eat it? To speak in future-tense is nearly to lie. Today is the deed. They seize the day. 

They are intelligent. Can plan for the future and interrogate the past. They do not indulge in this. Such things are only tools. Things to be got out of the way. They stand between light of the mind and the Now. 

 

The Do-Box 

RayMan phrases are shaped in terms of action, not meaning or reflection. They talk dungeon masters; “what are you doing?”, “what did you do?”, “what will you do?”. “Who did what?”, “how did they do it?”, “how was it done?”. “What is happening?”. 

RayMan culture is doing. Speech is a tertiary concern. The word is just the bodyguard to the deed. They are unimpressed with oratory, hard to persuade. Even reason works less well than it should. Deed is the highest and surest of all truths. 

 

Giacomo Balla sculptural construction of noise and speed 1915-

Whence the RayMen Came? 

This is RayMen as they are now. Skilled miners inhabiting vision-cities cloaked from view by high technology. Lords of strange bounty in the desert of stone. Beloved by no other culture, yet feared by all for their terrible techne, their merciless exterminations and the simple removal of their food-production guild. 

Why are they here? Legend speak of failed insurrections in distant lands or forgotten realities, of crazed ideals and Revolutions still in-progress, in the mad-but-airy theoretical, of a keen-edged godless immanent Now. Perhaps such idealists could only hide here, in the archipelago of the forgotten and blackly doomed. 

No-one comes here to look for them. 

Wednesday, 11 December 2024

Ælf-Adal - VotE Remastered Development

Their Origins in Dream

They come from out of Nightmare, though whose, or why, no-one remembers now. They may have been the dying dream of a coma-locked god, that cracked its sleeping skull and clambered out into our world. They may have been a shadow in the deep dark mirror-world of man, the fearful place we go to in our frightened dreams, brought forth by art, or chance or ancient science.

But they spring from the ecology of dreams, they are born from its substance, made to feed and feed upon and fight those visions of our fear.

Imagine a world composed only of the nightmares of all the thinking, sleeping minds, a strand of hallucinatory darkness shifting in its substance as dreamers wake and sleepers slip in and out of terror in the night. A world where the only stability comes from the mass memories of shared catastrophes. A world that contains all knowledge held by any thinking being, yet only in its dark reflected form. A world where predation is absolute, where all things hunt and kill and there is nothing that does not, in some small way, do harm. A world whose demiurges and creating gods, those beings that fill it with their life, who imbue its every moment with their black creative fire, are also its victims, targets and foes. A world that hates its creators.

This is the world of the Ælf-Adal, where they slowly grew, shaping themselves from the coagulated stuff of thought. This is where they first formed independent minds, where they made their society, where they built their mighty civilisation, a city seen in many dreams but never recognised.

How long they lay there thinking dreaming thoughts, nobody knows. Some say longer than the life of man, some say longer than the life of the world, some say longer than the stars.

Their War Against the Dreamers

No-one is certain who declared the war, whether their psychonaut scouts broke out, hunting dreamers as they woke, unwilling to let go, even on the borders of night, or whether some psychic human crusade discovered them and penetrated into Dream to burn out the parasitic thought. But, in dreams and sleep, and in the daylight of the waking world, a war began.

It was a war of tragedy and loss. The regularity and substance of our world made it a kind of hell to them, and the impossible fluctuations of Nightmare swallowed whole cultures of man.

The Ælf-Adal were made from the memory of pain and knew, in some form, everything we knew, and held strange magics impossible to counter and understand. But we were their creators, or the sustainers of their world at least, and they could never fully understand the sights they saw unfolding as the sun rose. The substance of humanity was dense and strange and different than it was in dreams and here, man did not always run but sometimes fought, and sometimes won, and as the numbers of mankind decayed, the world of Dream began to shrink and tighten round the black cities of the Ælf-Adal.

As well as that, once the war began, the nightmares of mankind filled mutually with one shared terror: the fear of the Nightmare Men, and these twice-reflected visions, the Nightmares of a Nightmare, filled their ancient civilisation. As monstrous and strange as they, but not independent, not truly-thinking beings, mere reactions and distractions, but dangerous enough in their way.

The Prophet of the Aelf-Adal

It was a prophet, or strange Nightmare-God that led the Ælf-Adal beneath, away from the light, away from the reach of man. Here, in a dim strange corner of the material world so dark and fluid that it seemed almost like a part of Dream, they lay and waited, rebuilding their mighty and decadent civilisation, one based on and drawn from the shattered memories of the greatest cities ever made. Yet now real, encoded in stone deep beneath the earth.

The Ælf-Adal are not-quite-real and not-quite-dream, but they are beautiful, the colour of the darkness, and they never age.

They can live and eat and breathe and die. And hate.

The Hatred of the Aelf-Adal

Imagine an ocean, a deep one. Imagine the water is black and dark like North Sea mud. Imagine things living in it, thickly-knitted limbs churning like a mower motor left tipped up and switched on, cutting blindly in long grass. You can’t see the limbs, or the things to which the limbs attach, but you can feel their movement in the thick black sea. They regard you. They hate you. A hate so deep they tear frantically at their own flesh in substitute for reaching yours.

Imagine the sea restrained by glass. Like the walls of an aquarium built on titanic scale. You stand before the sea that rises out of sight and curves to the horizon on each side. You can hear the surface fretting up its waves in storm a distant mile above your head. The glass holds everything back. Inside it you can see brief writhings of that midnight high-pressure world, raging at your presence just beyond its reach.

Imagine that the glass is beautifully made. Etched and engraved with perfect smiling forms. Beyond it, the black water, but, when the light slants just so across the pane, a field of translucent harmony gleams, worked there on its surface by hands and minds that leap the greatest human art. A genius casually employed that vaults with ease the best that man has ever made. Crystal signature of thoughtless superiority. So perfect are its fields and processions that when seen, even glimpsed in a trickle of lateral light, you want to live there, with those frozen people, inside the surface of that glass.

This is how much the the Ælf-Adal despise you.

This is how much they control that hate.

The knowledge of you stabs them in the flesh with every recollection and event. Though they know it well, the wound of you will not close. Each memory of you, each experience, all evidence of your continued being, is like a knife twisting in the skin.

No other species could absorb such titanic contempt and remain sane. They would be reduced to raving berserkers, living only to kill, directly, the loathed enabler of their pain.

But the Ælf-Adal are old; they know much of patience and control. And they know that they are born from the substance of your fear and that if there was nothing left to feel afraid, they might well die.

So.

Their Great Plan

Everything that can be done is being done. The situation is difficult, but there is time. There is always time. They must endure, as they have for so long. They wait and plan for an inverted world, a world where societies and civilisations and empires and species exist purely to instil and sustain fear. A world where dreams enslave the dreamer. Where the walls between sleep and waking tumble down and both realms become one sweet eternal whole.

They will live to see it.

Flayed Skin and Stolen Eyes

Flesh

They have real bones and bodies, and beautiful infra-black skin, void against the dark, but diaphanous gusts of smeared flesh can alter in an instant, bones elongating into trollish stalkers, or warping into crone-curves, Darkflesh bubbling with screaming faces - a blistering cancer of fear.

Light will sharpen their teeth and tightly-fitted skins will remind them of their form. They trade in Elf-Skins, or other skins of form and beauty, stitching themselves into suits of the finely tanned flesh, Wrapping these in equally tight clothes, and those in diaphanous gusts of cloudcradle silk, as if to mimic via textiles the formlessness of the twice-bound flesh beneath.

They breathe in the light to sharpen teeth and tongues. Exhaled breaths of darkness curl around their masks like rising steam. Only in light do their teeth sharpen and tongues point so they can speak clearly. In light do they hunger and in light do they feast, tearing at red meat and drinking bright blood and dark wines.

Masks

Each wears a mask, they claim these suppress the natural terror-imbuing presence of the Aelf-Adal, without which they might have no congress, and this is partly true. The unspoken part says that only these remind them of their identity and shape. To take a mask is to tear much of the solidity and sanity of an Aelf-Adal, for they cannot easily organise ‘I-am’ without one. This is another cause of their nobility for they choose only fine and beautiful masks – the faces of princes, kings and queens. Though they may become hounds or monsters if they choose.

Above the mask, at times they seem to have great horns, or black medusa hair; not snakes but things like snakes; blades or sharp penetrating pseudopodia, or they may have washes of ink that move like comic book art.

Beneath the masks are curious mouths; usually matching their assumed identity and role, though with sharper teeth, though in darkness, or extremis, they can twist and melt into vertical slits, tentacled holes or savage crosswise cuts.

Eyes

Their eyes are never their own, for natural Aelf-Adal evolved within a psychosphere, alive to scent and meaning but knowing only imagined light, which does not shine where no attention guides. The dreaming mind, like a theatre-keeper, sends the wash-lamp of its thoughts here and there, highlighting fragments of scene, leaving where it passes, a deeper darkness than just absence. This darkness was the birth-caul of the Aelf-Adal, and so they have no natural eyes.

Thus they must steal or purchase eyes to see with. Always the most beautiful eyes, always the rarest and most prized. The eyes behind their mask are not their own.

The Deathly Stare

The un-masked full-face stare of an Aelf-Adal invariably kills. This nightmare instinct bursts from them in times of stress or intense joy. The false eyes fall from their faces and are trod underfoot in ecstasy. All who face them die, and no closing of eyes will save them, for the face-sight of an Aelf-Adal penetrates flesh like a black sun while the chaos of their horned medusa-hair writhes like a corona of worms.

Fear-Eaters

While they occupy solid, predictable form, bound to a mask, a name, wrapped within a skin, the Aelf-Adal must eat as mortals do, (though only occasionally). Yet at all times they eat fear.

For the Aelf-Adal, the terror, dread and disquiet that emanates from living things is like streams of water falling in a desert land – each life is like a roving fountain moving through a stony maze like ghosts - appearing and disappearing - and the Aelf-Adal like parched Pilgrims who must seeks these miraculous ever-replenishing gourds which pour their bounty in the shapes of living men.

Without Fear they waste away into ghosts or scurry into dreams as petty thoughts. Given too much they mestatise into apocalyptic angels, primal extra-causal terrors. Neither is their desire, so they must farm terror calmly, and spook in moderate ways. Moderate from their perspective anyway.

Magicians

They gain naturally in magical power as they agelessly age. An inherent gift, existing as they do between real and unreal. A world that contains all knowledge held by any thinking being, yet only in its dark reflected form. Though they are not above learning ‘lesser magics’.

Sleep and Waking

The Aelf-Adal recognise no boundary between sleep and wakening, between reality and dream. Naturally amphibious to thought, they are equally present whether you are awake or asleep and can walk through dreams to reach you - dreams which curdle into nightmare in their presence, so that one affected with regular nightmares is said to be Aelf-Kissed.

One might dream of an Aelf-Adal and awaken to see them physically before you, carrying on the same conversation as if nothing has changed, or meet with one and fall into sleep, only to find them still there, again, continuing on. To them, there really was no boundary, the matter is like turning one’s head, or switching between well-known tongues.

M certain twitching morphia hangs about all those who deal with Aelf-Adal - so much involved with those who recognise no bounds to sleep, they themselves seem druggy, now narcoleptic, insomniac, not knowing what is real.

The danger for dreaming mortals is that for the Aelf-Adal, an agreement made in a dream, is as binding and real to them as one made awake.

The Palaces Of Night

The Palaces of the Aelf-Adal bleed into the imagination, for they are built across the bridge of night, with foundations in reality and dream. A gentle terror impregnates all they touch whether they will it or not; Auschwitz fantasies, Ed Gien Decor and Giger-Ossuary Aesthetic, archipelagos of darkness where the unconscious and abyssal meet, courts of dark luxury existing in the limerence of dread. Marked with the emblem of the screaming face, they are always bigger on the inside, and once the inside has been experienced and the boundary broken, larger then beyond.

The Sun

It is not light itself they fear, (and they would say they fear nothing, for Fear they are), but the mass collective concept of 'The Day', the dream of the Above. To them the waking world , with its burning Sun and sharp alien divide between reality and dream, is a conceptually toxic realm.

There is no equivalent, but imagine this; you move to a nation where right-angles do not exist, or where no lines are straight, and even the understanding that things might be otherwise fades slowly from your mind as the collective impossibility takes hold, persisting only as a deep sense of impossible wrongness and an alien nature which you no longer have the concepts to delimit or the words to describe.

Even the dreams of those who come from above can be dangerous, for they remember sunlight and dream of sunlit lands, a dangerous, but yet.. intoxicating, circumstance for the Aelf-Adal.

Society and Economy

Family

While they have a mask, a shape, a name, the Aelf-Adal must eat, must breathe, know pain, hope and, (though they deny it), fear. They even love their children, in a way.

They can mate with one another, or with anything else. Half-dream, they can marry fantasies in nightmares and become pregnant with wonders, or with monsters, and breed fantastic children. It might be that many of the strange and singular things in the Veins of the Earth are their children, and that many wild and black ideas are too.

As they assume nobility-as-selfhood, (there are no common Aelf-Adal, all are Princes (less those formless ones, lost and given to the dark, perhaps they are trolls. Or the mothers of Trolls)), so they must take on the consequences of Nobility; hierarchy, family, descent, inheritance, dynasty and intrigue, even war.

Of course they live for ever so the only means of inheritance is mask-theft or murder, and there is never enough land, or places to rule, but that is not so different from ordinary noble lives.

Nobility

Because their terrors must be harvested gently, they are fine Princes. As utterly inimical to life and sanity as they are, Such power alone does them little good.

Good Governors, Masters of the Silk Trade, Lords of Civilisation. Their interest in complexity exists because they feed off the terrors it sustains. No life means no fear. Therefore they wish to see civilisation bloom. Therefore they are like Renaissance Princes, bountiful characters, often willing to finance and resource expeditions and new settlements. The Courts and Houses of the Terror-Men uphold the cities of the Veins.

Of their meta-culture, few know much, for extended contact with the Aelf-Adal usually destroys even the strongest souls.

Economy

Their 'civilisation' is an act of rationing, and self-control, of drug addicts or vampires measuring and controlling their feeding, and turning that control itself into an artistic act, and a source of further pleasure. Dread is their currency. They trade in hope and dreams, even more than silk, Elf-Skins and beautiful eyes.

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The Question of Hatred

Do we actually need the Aelf-Adal to hate?