The Quality of His Enemies

Everyone knows the importance of the cultivation of a good villain, or ideally an entire rogue’s gallery, in a superhero game. After all, supervillains need to be at least as interesting as superheroes--maybe more so. People probably think about it less in fantasy rpgs, but its sitll something worth considering.

A lot of fantasy villains tend to be one-off, true enough. Anra Devadoris only bedeviled Fafhrd and Gray Mouser once, and any number of evil sorcerers didn’t survive one encounter with Conan’s mighty thews. Still, there are recurring bad guys--Conan’s got his Thoth-Amon, after all, and Sauron keeps menacing Middle-Earth like he’s Dr. Doom after the Fantastic Four.

My high school gaming group had a lot of fun with their foe Kulu the Illusionist. Kulu was the creation of my cousin who introduced me to gaming, and showed up in his campaign, and in virtually every iteration of my campaign after that. Players came to recognize the bald, purple-robed wizard by description alone--and man, did they want to kill him. In true super-villain fashion, Kulu always escaped the the player’s wrath to fight another day. A super-villain can easily become annoying if they seem protected by the GM, but I think the player’s were always able to soundly defeat Kulu so that he never got on their nerves in that regard.

Another, less conventional, nemesis was Kallus the Merchant (and yes, I think its just coincidence that both these villains have names that start with “k”). Kallus had funded some shady ventures that had put him at odds with the PCs, and a hot-tempered barbarian assassinated him for it. Kallus was gone, but his legacy lived on to vex the players. The merchant guild in town erected a statue in his honor, and people were always talking angrily about his unjust death. The PCs had to keep quiet, lest they face justice, and they were frustrated as the crooked merchant was lionized in death. Then, relatives of the merchant started hiring bounty hunters to track down Kallus’ murderers.  The PCs would find themselves periodically having to either fight off and misdirect these guys at the most inopportune times. All of this only occasionally intruded on the lives of the PCs, but it was a source of amusement for the players--well, at least for their DM.

So anybody have any good recurring villains in their games?

Scott Pilgrim vs. Gaming

I saw Scott Pilgrim vs. the World this weekend, which is of course the film adaptation of Bryan Lee O’Malley’s action-comedy graphic novel series. For the uninitiated, it tells the story of the eponymous slacker who must defeat seven evil exes in mortal combat so he can date cool-chick Ramona. Scott inhabits a strange alternate Toronto where amazon.ca delivery-girls take shortcuts through subspace (at least an American one do), demon hipster chicks are summoned, and vegans are gifted with incredible psychic powers by virtue of their diet.

If it sounds a little cutesy, it is, but that’s part of its charm. It’s obviously informed by a love of video games, as references abound, but it strikes me that Scott Pilgrim’s world isn’t too far off from a table-top rpg, particular a post-computer-game one like 4E D&D.

For instance, Ramona, Scott’s inamorata, carries a subspace suitcase--a hipster purse with the properties of a bag of holding--in which she carries a large hammer +2 against girls, and a titanium bat +1 against blondes.

After defeating one of the exes, Scott wins a mithril skateboard with the stats +4 Speed, +3 Kick, and +1 Will. Alas, Scott never took skateboard proficiency--instead opting for longsword--so he’s unable to use it.

See what I mean? With the movie out, its too bad it wasn’t capitalized on with a table-top rpg as well as the inevitable video game.

The Devil's Jukebox

The so-called “Devil’s Jukebox” is a malign, arcane device that may be encountered in shabby dance-halls, two-bit gin-joints, or lonely roadside bars from the outskirts of the City to the coast of Hesperia. Its presence often heralds some sort of tragedy or misfortune--it has been seen in farm towns just before devastating floods, and captured in the background of crime scene photos of gangland massacres.  Often though, the Devil’s Jukebox causes its own tragedy.

The device is supposedly the only existing Schreckwalder Lapsit Exillis model jukebox in existence, the last model personally designed by company co-founder Wolfram Schreckwalder before his seclusion--and the tragedy that followed. No one knows how the device came to be imbued with magical power, though there are always tales that it was made on commission for some extraplanar power.

It plays standard 78rpm shellac records, though no one has been able to change the records in this machine. Attempts at removal lead to another copy of the record in question re-appearing in the device, and the removed one crumbling away to dust with a hint of brimstone in the air. The jukebox does change its own records from time to time, though no one can predict when this will happen. It can hold up to twenty records, though no one has ever heard more than a handful of the songs in its repertoire and lived to tell about it.

Here are a few of the songs that have been heard played by the machine, and the magical effects that occur when they play. Effects last as long as the song plays (4 minutes, or less) unless noted otherwise. The jukebox seems to play these songs at random, and it starts or stops as it will. Songs may be selected by number, but few are foolish enough to actually make it play:

1. “Devil’s Blues” by Springheeled Jack Jamison: The attentions of an infernal entity are drawn to one of the people present, or perhaps them all. The length and nature of the attention is variable, but it is always troublesome in character.

2. “Take My Soul” by Wendell Clavinger: One person present has there soul trapped elsewhere--likely in some item at some remote location. Their body functions normally but appears to be in a coma.
3. “It’ll Come Back Around” by Billy Barrow and His Jazz Revenants: Ghosts of dead enemies/foes materialize and attack or otherwise bedevil those present.  Additionally, any dead bodies present will rise as undead.

4. “Don’t the Time Just Fly?” by the Legendary Smaragdine Mountain Boys: While only enough time to for the song to play seems to pass for those present, d100 hours pass outside--possibly even longer.

5. “Gallows Swing” by Los Hermanos Acuna Western Orchestra: Within an hour of the song playing, a lynch mob of 10-30 will seek out one of those present and attempt to deliver swift justice for a violent murder they are sure the individual committed.

6. “Poor Me” by the Gentlemen of the Road: One person present (at random) will lose all their wealth and non-magical possessions by a series of seemingly coincidental misfortunes over the next week.

7. “Sea of Tears” by Tic Doloreux and his Orchestra: All present are struck with intense sadness. Those who fail a saving throw will become suicidal and attempt to end their life unless the song ends before they can do so, or they are prevented by others.

8. “Must Have Been the Moonlight” by Irena Dubrovna: One person (at random) present when the song plays is stricken with lycanthropy, though this will not necessarily be evident until the next full moon.

9. “You Make Me Crazy” by Hugh Strange and the Bedlam Orchestra: Everyone hearing the song is struck by an unreasoning frenzy wherein they attack each other in a murderous rage. They take no actions requiring forethought or planning (like casting spells) but will employ available weapons.

10.  "Missing You Missing Me" by Jonny Favorite: Everyone hearing the song becomes permanently amnestic regarding some important memory in his or her life.  This varies from forgetting a single important fact, to complete loss of identity.  Occasionally (30% of the time), someone present will have memories replaced with ones not their own.