I'm gonna post more and more of this as I go.
Go to my blog if you want to read more. I promise that when this is posted up and complete, I'll make a single deviation of it. But... its a horror story.
And Billy McCraw is comin' back to rip Spencer Montana apart...

Dead Man Walking 2

Spring came back to Spencer the day after. Then spring rolled into summer. Then September came back, and Spencer was once again vibrant with life. People came back. Dead Bill McCraw was like a invitation to come and help clean it up.
Seven months passed since Sheriff Joshua Coates had cut the throat of the town's terror. Every night since had only brought him nightmares. He could still hear the laughter of McCraw when he went closed his eyes.
McCraw had been buried in a unmarked, shallow grave outside of town. The Sheriff and five other men from town dug it in the rain the night after McCraw's hanging. No one told anyone where. None of men even thought to speak any rites or such.
No one thought the bastard deserved it.
So that warm September night, when the moon winked full in the big sky over the mountains, no one was witness to what happened. Outside the city limits dirt stirred. Powers that be beyond this reality discarded McCraw's foul soul. If it was worthy of such a name.
Bony, rotted claws dug their way free from their resting place. Ragged clothes clung to it. Shadows and darkness flowed from his hollow, laughing face.



Doctor Jonathan Brooks walked out of the Black Stag bar. His hands were soaked with the blood of the patients he had just treated.
"And remember Joe, avoid them beer bottles! I can't stitch up all of yer skull if you shatter it!" He looked back and smiled. Joe and the other barflies waved their hands. A minor scuffle. Probably the first since... well, Jonathan wasn't gonna think about him.
The Doctor made his way toward his Sister's homestead. He had been staying there since he arrived in Spencer. The full moon kept the enough light for him to find his way. He knew the way like the back of his hand. Then his foot slipped. It dug down deep and threw him to the ground. The doctor landed face down a pool of blood.
He didn't have time to scream when McCraw sliced off his head.




"McCraw's dead. It can't be him, Jim." Sheriff Coates sighed.
"Sheriff, the entire homestead burned down to the ground. And all of the Brooks were sliced up- Who else would do something so nasty?" Jim Fulsom stood and
"I don't know-" The sheriff winced. No evidence except for the entire Brooks family being sliced into over hundred pieces.
“Sheriff Coates!” Diana Cash was at the door to the Jail. Cash was a older woman and managed the girls that worked above the Black Stag. She and those women were prostitutes -and yes, sinners too- but they also had been newest to town. Fresh faces were a pleasant sight, regardless of occupation. “The Black Stag- my god- its-”
The sheriff didn't bother to ask. He and Jim ran furiously across the street. He and Jim open their jaws in horror when they stepped into the Black Stag. Eight young women hung naked by their own hair. Five or so men had been tossed on the floor in parts. The men were dead. It took the Sheriff a second to realize what was happening.
“My god, their still alive!” The Sheriff rushed out to grab and try to cut one of them down. A bony fist knocked him away.

Doctor Jonathan Brooks walked out of the Black Stag bar. His hands were soaked with the blood of the patients he had just treated.
"And remember Joe, avoid them beer bottles! I can't stitch up all of yer skull if you shatter it!" He looked back and smiled. Joe and the other barflies waved their hands. A minor scuffle. Probably the first since... well, Jonathan wasn't gonna think about him.
The Doctor made his way toward his Sister's homestead. He had been staying there since he arrived in Spencer. The full moon kept the enough light for him to find his way. He knew the way like the back of his hand. Then his foot slipped. It dug down deep and threw him to the ground. The doctor landed face down a pool of blood.
He didn't have time to scream when McCraw sliced off his head.




"McCraw's dead. It can't be him, Jim." Sheriff Coates sighed.
"Sheriff, the entire homestead burned down to the ground. And all of the Brooks were sliced up- Who else would do something so nasty?" Jim Fulsom stood and
"I don't know-" The sheriff winced. No evidence except for the entire Brooks family being sliced into over hundred pieces.
“Sheriff Coates!” Diana Cash was at the door to the Jail. Cash was a older woman and managed the girls that worked above the Black Stag. She and those women were prostitutes -and yes, sinners too- but they also had been newest to town. Fresh faces were a pleasant sight, regardless of occupation. “The Black Stag- my god- its-”
The sheriff didn't bother to ask. He and Jim ran furiously across the street. He and Jim open their jaws in horror when they stepped into the Black Stag. Eight young women hung naked by their own hair. Five or so men had been tossed on the floor in parts. The men were dead. It took the Sheriff a second to realize what was happening.
“My god, their still alive!” The Sheriff rushed out to grab and try to cut one of them down. A bony fist knocked him away.
“Aww shucks Sheriff. I'll share my toys when I'm done.” The voice echoed with shadows and the noon sun seemed to back away from it. It carried frost. A hate-filled frost.
“No.” The Sheriff pulled out his pistol. He stepped back “Fuck no.”
“Fuck yes.” McCraw chuckled.

Happy Halloween Week!



Its my favorite time of the year. I think I shall write a short story in celebration. I might even draw a demon or two.

Who doesn't love zombies? Or just plain undead stuff?

Dead Man Walking

It was the sixth time that entire town of Spencer, Montana, stepped out into the center of town to watch it. The attempted hanging. Justice, due process trying to work. They gathered for the macrabre entertainment being prepped for today. Most of the town was thinking the same thing as the Sheriff was thinking.
This time, dear God, please let it stick.
The past two years in Spencer had been horrible, slashing times. The laughing man being drug onto the gallows had mutilated and burned his way across the county. The remote mining town felt McCraw's hissing deathly ways. Spencer had once held over two hundred men and women in his number. McCraw slew and blew his way through. He raped and cut them all down, scaring off those who didn't had the heart- the madness- to stay. No, the seventy people who remained hoped that the hanging today would make an end to the last two years.
The sheriff's eyes narrowed a the big grin of McCraw. The hairless criminal had laughed at each of his hangings. He didn't fight when the Sheriff tried to arrest him, once the town had learned who had been behind all the killings and brutalities. He admitted to it all, even showing a collection of skulls he'd sleep on at night.
"Y'all look mighty fine today," McCraw's licked his lips, a drool of hunger dibbling down his chin. "Thanks fer comin' out agin."
"Shutup Bill," The Sheriff stepped onto the gallows after the criminal. He put the noose around McCraw's neck.
"Just helpin' set the mood, Sheriff." McCraw's eyes didn't blink. Why did they never blink?

Want more? I'm posting bits and pieces at a blog of mine, Dangitsugly.

Campaigns and Chronicles are meaningless without characters. For Equinox, I have two players with two characters. I'm going to go into each of them, without rules explanation, just their bits of flavor. These are Mage: the Awakening characters, so a lack of setting knowledge may or may not make it harder for you to understand.

The Esteemed NYU Professor of Chemistry

Anubis
Name: Xavier Cohen
Path: Moros
Age: 38

Xavier is the one teacher that the students under him dislike and hate. It isn't out of disrespect or the way he teaches- it is more out of a fear of him. He has worked at the University for almost a decade, his one favorite student and friend turning out to be Marte.

Xavier is a Orthodox Jew- not that he is religious. He doesn't attend services much anymore. His wife also is on the University staff as a Librarian. And his young son dislikes science and even his father a bit.

His Awakening occurred during a normal day. He received an odd skull from a mysterious stranger, which drew his curiosity. When he left for the night, to go check on his grandmother's estate, a ancient small home in the East Village. En route, he came across a graveyard decorated with symbols similar to the one on the skull he had received.

The curiosity got to him.

Xavier went to a grave that matched the skull's symbol. And he then he stepped into the dead plains of Stygia.

The Up and Coming Politician
Ozymandias
Name: Marte Garcia
Path: Obrimos
Age: 26

Marte was raised by Catholic nuns. He was a foundling, and Sister Rosemary was probably the only adult the child ever trusted. He was betrayed by people who should know better. Priests. Foster parents. People. Authorities.

Although he's Catholic, Marte really isn't that religious. He learned more about morality from the Mob than he did from Catholicism. He went to NYU and got a MBA. He even dabbled in stocks and investments. But he decided that perhaps he could change the way things functioned. Become the authority and change the hierarchy. So he has started to enter politics and became a city councilman.

His Awakening was like Xavier's. He got a present from a mysterious stranger. A large chess piece- the white King. But instead of a cross atop its head, it had a upside down pentacle on it. Attached was a invitation to a nightclub in SoHo. It was called the Fifth Sun.

So he went. Out of curiosity, if you will.

Once there, the DJ had a black queen with her. She invited him into a backroom. It was covered hundreds of sigils and signs. And clouds. And angels. And light. His senses ignited as he stepped into the skies of the Aether.

It was the sixth time that entire town of Spencer, Montana, stepped out into the center of town to watch it. The attempted hanging. Justice, due process trying to work. They gathered for the macrabre entertainment being prepped for the day. Most of the town was thinking the same thing as the Sheriff was thinking.
This time, dear God, please let it stick.

The past two years in Spencer had been horrible, slashing times. The laughing man being drug onto the gallows had mutilated and burned his way across the county. The remote mining town felt McCraw's hissing deathly ways. Spencer had once held over two hundred men and women in his number. McCraw slew and blew his way through. He raped and cut them all down, scaring off those who didn't had the heart- the madness- to stay. No, the seventy people who remained hoped that the hanging today would make an end to the last two years.
The sheriff's eyes narrowed a the big grin of McCraw. The hairless criminal had laughed at each of his hangings. He didn't fight when the Sheriff tried to arrest him, once the town had learned who had been behind all the killings and brutalities. He admitted to it all, even showing a collection of skulls he'd sleep on at night.
"Y'all look mighty fine today," McCraw's licked his lips, a drool of hunger dibbling down his chin. "Thanks fer comin' out agin."
"Shutup Bill," The Sheriff stepped onto the gallows after the criminal. He put the noose around McCraw's neck.
"Just helpin' set the mood, Sheriff." McCraw's eyes didn't blink. Why did they never blink?
The Sheriff looked away to the crowd of the townspeople. They looked like he felt. Scared. Cold. Emerging to the front of the crowd, causing some of them to move away, was Spencer's own bizarre pariah.
Lady Soteira stood in her plain black dress. The young woman hadn't come to any of the prior hangings. The pale-skinned woman who lived on her tiny farm- what she grew or why she ever bothered coming into town- never had complained of any problems from McCraw's long list of atrocities. To be honest, even the Sheriff had hoped it was her that had been doing it all. The woman was creepy, beautiful, and if the rumors were true, a witch who had come to Spencer to hide her sorceries. I've got no authority over rumor or magic, Sheriff Coates thought, but her being here makes this hanging all the more scary.
“Fuck, Sheriff,” The chuckle of McCraw's hoarse voice broke the Sheriff's reverie. “Them folks wanna see me hang. Do I gotta wait fer my time to die? Hey, Missus Brooks!”
A older woman in the crowd backed away from McCraw's voice. She clutched tightly to her son. Mrs Brooks had tears forming in her eyes.
“C'mon, Missus Brooks. I know yer eager fer the show- hey, like that show I gave yah the night yer husband died. Remember? Remember how I made yah promise to never tell?” McCraw drool and dark spit flew as he spoke. His mouth flapped like wolf ripping into and bitting into dead prey. “How you offered yer son-”
“Dammit, shutup,” The Sheriff growled. He pulled the lever and trap dropped out. The rope went sharp and tight.
McCraw wobbled and dropped. He didn't struggle. The murderer swayed in the cold wind. A minute past. His unblinking eyes stared out.
Coates walked over McCraw's body. The bastard still was drooling. His mouth flapped open. A whisper hissed out. “Sarah was tasty-”
McCraw's voice ended when Coates slid his knife into his throat.
No one in the crowd responded. They all departed, everyone smiling in relief. Except for two of them.
Lady Soteira still watched. And Sheriff Coates looked at McCraw with disgust.

One of the things I once used to great effect in a game I ran was the idea of 'Seasons'. Like TV shows here in America, I'd try to break my campaign/chronicle down to a limited amount of adventures. I'd try to ahead of time decide the number of adventures- or episodes for the sake of analogy. I considered it a great creative boon for writing long plots. If you know its going to only last ten adventures, then you can go ahead and try foreshadowing in adventures two and three.

The other advantage of the use of Seasons is that it allowed me to End the Campaign on a note. I always approached the end of a Season with a finale- meant to cut off the campaign and end it nicely. When I've run games that didn't use the Seasons idea, they kinda just lingered and died. The story was still there, but it had faded away, and never really was resolved like it could be. Unfortunately, this style sometimes can conflict with the idea of a the super-long serial type game.

As for Equinox, I think its 'Season' might consist of 15 episodes. The goal being to reach a stellar conclusion at the end of 15 episodes will be a great goal. Hopefully by then I'll have obtained the inspiration for another game.

Hey, wheres the Door?

No, srsly. Where is it?

Anywho, just enjoying my day off and drawing a tad. I hope to scan them in at some point- perhaps even finish up the Akain image. Enough of me ranting on artwork, though.

Its Autumn. I love this time of year. Its chilly in the morning, and at night you shiver a bit more. The trees look like they're dying and Halloween is just around the corner. And so is Dias de los Muertos, one of my personal faves. All in all, a nice time of year. A lot more easier to enjoy than spring to me. Autumn like what my Teens first felt like. Horrible, new and still beautiful.

Thats the key right there. Beautiful. Everything has beauty to it. Ignore the mad ranters on ugliness. Everything is beautiful in some way.

Beautiful.

Thats what makes life so gosh darned fun.

So I've sent out some emails and got some notes down for the upcoming Mage game. Among the things I've noted and tossed out is the Group Template. I first learned of it from the guys at Fear the Boot.

Listen to me, like I know them or something. Ha. Anyway, back to the Group Template.

I love the idea of the Group Template. Its a great concept, where the entire party in the game share a common history and relationship. It avoids the age-old tavern meet between strangers. I like it because it makes the roleplaying easier.

I've only gotten it to work right, and that involved the right players and the right amount of control over character creation. It was my Werewolf game, the Robot Lords. Games where I've been a player and not a GM, I've been unable to get the idea across. Not the same group of players as the Werewolf group mind you. But in the latest pathfinder game one of the other players told me that he 'wondered what was the point' of that. Yep. Backstory of a character to him was pointless.

As a GM and Storyteller, I can't and don't think that way. I love character backstory and always try to use it best I can. It helps write the story for me. So to encourage group unity and get some ideas rolling, I always have tried to use a Group Template.

How it works:
The Group Template, to work its best, needs to be the first step in character creation. Now, character creation needs, no SHOULD be done in group. I've tried to iterate this many, many, many times to my own players: GROUP character creation. Learn what group you belong to and why your characters get along.

Quick Aside on that: Character Creation should be shared if possible, mostly to share ideas. Sometimes other players can actually HELP you get a backstory figured out with questions and the like.

First make a group concept. Is the group a paramilitary squad? A order of knights? A cabal of wizards? Are they all dedicated to the pursuit and elimination of the same villain? Have they all died and come back the same way? What is the binding trait among them?

This can be simple or complex. No wrong answer.

After you know the group concept, go ahead and try to define the shared history between your characters. What has the group done and experienced together? Have they already faced a dozen battles together or did they all share the same lab table when they were created?

....

I'll post more thoughts on this later. Current theme ideas for the game:

Equinox
Chronicle/Cabal Ideas:
---
Knowledge
Power
Day and Night
Impending Doom
Prophecy
Duality
New York City (manhattan)


See ya