What is The Last Place on Earth, both as a product and as your vision?
The Last Place on Earth is a tabletop role playing game inspired by the Heroic Age of Exploration and by Robert F Scott’s fatal 1912 expedition to the South Pole. It’s a game about the hardships of Antarctic exploration and the arrogance of men who believe that they can or must overcome nature. It’s designed as a one or two shot experience with black and white zine of rules accompanied by archival photos and an illustrated map of the route to use a play aid.
This sounds like an intensive research project! What kind of research have you been doing for the project, and how have you found that research to be useful in designing the game?
My research started with a much broader scope as I was
interested in a game about historical exploring. I was reading about mountain
climbing which had a lot of juicy material: harsh environments, bad equipment,
improper safety procedures, great scenery, but almost all that history engages
in indigenous erasure. As a white designer, it is not my place to write that
game so I turned my attention to the South Pole, and Scott’s Terra Nova
expedition drawn in by the photographs and journal entries. The journal
entries.
The journal entries are fascinating because they provide insight
into the thought processes of the expedition members during their ill-fated
march. We can read about the dynamics within the group and later what they want
to be remembered in the history books. Journaling is included as a mechanic in
the game as a form of monologuing, and as a stretch goal, I will be writing a
solo RPG variant that relies on journaling extensively. In the end, the
emotional arc of the expedition became the focal point, and the technical
aspects of exploration were relegated to window dressing. The best gameplay comes
from exploring the attitudes and relationships of these men at the end of the
earth.
I like the way you say “the arrogance of men who believe they can or must overcome nature.” Can you expand on this perspective and how it shapes your design and your approach to this project?
Beneath the mechanics and setting, the Last Place on Earth is about colonialism and masculinity. These men traveled to a place with temperatures of -45 degrees Fahrenheit and winds regularly over 100 miles an hour so that they could claim the glory of reaching the center of an uninhabited continent. This toxic mindset is just so deeply ingrained in their identities. For example, they viewed skis as children’s toys and barely used them instead they walked almost all of the 900 miles to the pole. It’s also apparent in their words. One of Scott’s last journal entries reads, “we have been to the Pole and we shall die like gentlemen. I regret only for the women we leave behind.” Or Lawrence Oates’ last words were, “I am just going outside and may be some time,” then he walked into a blizzard with no boots.
In the game, the characters are created to evoke the absurdity
of these historical attitudes. During the game, the players explore how
characters with this mentality deal with intense physical hardship, failure,
and possibly even death. They form close bonds with fellow expedition members
and see if they can weather the storm as their entire world is challenged. I
hope that the critique offered by the game will lead players to think about
their own beliefs on nationalism, masculinity, and the natural world.
What is Thistle and Hearth, both as a product and as your vision?
Thistle and Hearth is a game of belonging outside belonging that combines a dark fairytale aesthetic with the experience of growing up as a Lutheran in Minnesota. Inconvenient spirits, punishing winter, and mercurial fae challenge the community. True Names, vows, and acts of creation bring them comfort.
To be honest, the idea for Thistle and Hearth literally came to me in a dream. It was some sort of high-action romp, but the things that stuck with me were the aesthetic notes of deep forest, deep winter, and elk riders. These aesthetic notes weren’t really enough to turn into a game until I shared them with my co-designer, Natalie (@rpgnatalie). The most exciting thing about designing this game has to do with genre – a thing I love playing with in games and game design.
To me, a lot of the indie game space for the past decade has been in pursuit of genre. Apocalypse World gave an approachable toolkit for replicating specific fictional genres in games, leading to countless hacks. Dream Askew//Dream Apart followed a number of years later, using similar tools to subvert existing genres, rather than just replicating them. What Natalie and I have done with Thistle and Hearth is create a genre that exists nowhere else by making playbooks and motifs that assume archetypes for this genre-that-doesn’t-exist. People expect playbooks to rely on tropes, but we’ve created playbooks without the tropes, and it turns out that creates a really unique play experience.
A Thistlefolk by Mahar Mangahas.
It sounds like you’re bringing forward a very specific experience. How does the life of a Lutheran in Minnesota connect to dark fairytale aesthetic, and what are some examples of how players will experience this?
So the game is influenced by Aven’s experience growing up in a Lutheran community and Natalie’s experience in community with people who were part of the church. The way the church manifested was heavily influenced by the local climate – months of winter where it was too cold to go outside, with too little sunlight, where the climate becomes a thing you have to guard against in certain ways. The game has five motifs that determine the themes and forces that will be at play in your game, and each one reflects a different aspect of our experiences.
This is represented in the game very literally with the Winter motif, which brings scarcity to the community, and asks how do you make do with less than you need? This can also lead to tension between playbooks. For example, the Forged and the Morning Frost respectively represent a tension between repurposing what we have in order to get what we need, and making things that bring joy or beauty but may be a frivolous use of resources.
The church also often had an insular narrative – we didn’t necessarily think things that were outside of our community were bad, but we didn’t understand them, and there was a prominent narrative that we did not belong out there – in the cold, in the wider world, or, in Thistle and Hearth, in the Woods. A part of this was coping with the fact that we lived in a place where living is hard and grueling most of the time – by making the unfamiliar undesirable, we made the familiar desirable.
A ghost by Mahar Mangahas.
The Thistlefolk, our name for the fae, represent how power works sometimes in communities of faith. There are often people who you know little to nothing about but who either you as an individual or the wider community are beholden to – they hold power over you and their rules must be followed. Both the Thistlefolk and Family motifs explore questions over how power is distributed, and how it affects someone who is part of the community in ways that are not explicitly violent or economic.
Lutheran communities often build their identity around shared histories, but these are not always true to what actually happened. In Thistle and Hearth, the dead can come back to speak their truths, and that may complicate the things that the community hold as sacred, or it can be used to reinforce this shared history. They can also function metaphorically as a representation of people who have left the community but still have a connection to it, and can demystify the unknown in ways that breaks down the in-group/out-group narrative.
Exploring genre, or the surpassing of genre, is something that fascinates me. How did you use the Belonging-Outside-Belonging system to develop this new genre and how does it influence play?
PbtA games use move-like-mechanics to establish what people do in the world, and the fictional consequences of acting in those ways. This is used to reinforce genre by recreating the paradigms of action found in therein. Belonging Outside Belonging games go a step further by codifying what kinds of action makes characters vulnerable, and what kinds of action allow them to advance their agenda.
In Thistle and Hearth we included moves and grouped them in ways that either subvert existing genre influences, or else completely ignore them in favor of something new. For example, one of the Forged’s weak moves is “lash out in anger.” In other genres, this would probably be a strong or regular move for a physical-strength oriented playbook like the Forged. In this game, and this genre, it is something that they do to show their vulnerability.
If moves and their categorization makeup one part of the genre of the game, another important mechanical aspect of genre is the motifs. Motifs (which might be called “situations” or “setting elements” in other BoB games) establish fictional powers in the world, and the players together control them and influence how they are used in play. The group’s collective experiences, while perhaps based on their existing cultural knowledge, create a new genre when combined together.
The Woods by Mahar Mangahas.
Without shared control of the motifs, it would be up to individuals in the group to understand, synthesize, and then reproduce for everyone else. That would be much, much harder, and it would be more likely for the player’s existing cultural knowledge to leak into their creation of the genre. The motifs may be familiar to players individually, but the game leads to play that explores how they connect to each other to define a fictional world. The space between the different motifs has a somewhat defined shape, but it is only through play that a group can discovers what fills the empty space.
In contrast to Dream Askew, the lists that players pick from to define motifs are quite broad in Thistle and Hearth. There is a tendency towards higher variation between the motifs from game to game. The genre that the players explore together can have a vastly different texture depending on the options they choose. In one playtest, the Thistlefolk hoarded secrets, so much so that they sent a member of their brethren into the community to steal a particularly juicy secret. In another, the Thistlefolk craved music and violence; we elaborated on them as extravagant party-throwers who could appear at the drop of a hat and stay for days, leaving little time for sleep or solitude.
Such a lovely title treatment! By Mahar Mangahas.
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Thank you SO much to Aven and Natalie for this interview!! I hope you all enjoyed it and that you’ll check out Thistle and Hearth on Kickstarter today!
What is Winter Harvest, both as a product and as your vision?
Winter Harvest is a small roleplaying game set in a small world. Players are woodland animals using the power of memories, food & community to thrive as the seasons turn. The game runs 4 sessions based on the seasons. Session 4 concludes the game with a real-life (and in-game) Midwinter Feast. Goals of Winter Harvest are to focus on domestic life within an inter-connected community, and to have each table develop custom lore for their home through invoking oral history that will be recorded by the Librarian. It should feel horizontal because no player “keeps” the role of facilitator/Storyteller, it rotates each session. The physical product will be a 20-30 page, black-and-white handmade zine with custom ink art of adorable animals at work and play, publishing around October 2020.
This sounds great – I love food, and I love woodland creatures! How did you develop the perfect mood for play to help encourage the interconnected nature the narrative demands?
Before jumping into play, a group beginning Winter Harvest will make two types of choices that set the stage for feeling that they are part of a close-knit and inter-reliant community. First, each player developing a character card will choose two professional skills. For example, if I were making a rabbit gardener character, I might choose skills like physical endurance and herbal knowledge. Any time I use my skills from my gardening job to confront a challenge, I’ll get bonuses to help the group resolve problems.
Defining what characters do day-to-day instantly sets the stage for relationships–my gardener character probably knows the cook quite well, for instance. Second, the table will have to reach a consensus on the key features that define their home in the Burrow, which sets the stage for understanding that protecting and caring for your shared space is essential to everyone’s wellbeing. Throughout play, these choices will interact with narrative decisions, including when players confront challenges stemming within the Burrow that have social causes and consequences each session.
A rotating facilitator role is so great. What does Winter Harvest do to help support the facilitators and bind together their unique perspectives?
Mechanically, regardless of a facilitator’s style or experience level, each will be physically writing in the same book as players invoke stories & legends to have a connected record evolve (which is why the role is also called The Librarian). Players can revisit stories that were invoked in past seasons to get powerful bonuses without spending a limited resource, which adds incentives to have past themes and stories brought up several times as the game progresses.
There’s no obligation for every person at the table to take a turn as facilitator, and hopefully taking on this role will feel voluntary and exciting rather than intimidating. Since Winter Harvest is a compact and quite simple game, it should not be time-consuming for facilitators to become familiar with the whole text. Running it requires no memorization or math. I’m very interested in thinking further about how the game can be designed to ensure that facilitators feel well-supported throughout!
What is #FlirtSquad, both as a product and as your vision?
Hello Beau, thank you for taking the time out to interview me, I really appreciate it. Okay, background first. My memory of events may not be exactly accurate, but about two years ago, Darcy Ross posted on Twitter because she had a hard time trying to flirt and she asked for advice. This was picked up by a lot of people on Twitter and spawned the hashtag #FlirtSquad. From there, you could post a picture or short clip of yourself trying to look flirty and you were guaranteed to have at least some people respond and tell you how amazing you were doing.
I was one of the first to reply and shameless about tagging people in that I thought could contribute (IIRC you were just such a person). There were so many people sharing so many things, and I read a lot of great advice on how to take better pictures, what was considered too far for people, how to communicate expectations etc. I was like “wow, this is really something.” However, when things really clicked for me was a couple of weeks in, when people who normally don’t try to be flirty online, people who don’t share a lot of pictures of themselves, people that have low self esteem, things like that started to post. They told me either in private or in their tweets that they had always been afraid to post pictures of themselves or to share selfies. Either thinking they weren’t cute, or people would make fun of them, or people would be creepy.
I knew we had something special at THAT point, I was also knew it was Twitter, therefore it was ephemeral, it wouldn’t last forever so I’m like “alright, how can I capture these moments? How can I share this with more people who either didn’t see the tag, or aren’t on Twitter, or aren’t in our small indie RPG bubble? What can I do?” The answer I had for that was “write a LARP!” So, here we are, this is my attempt to give people a safe place, where they can explore their flirty selves and build their confidence with like minded folks, and I think I’ve done it.
That’s
a whimsical answer, sorry. So, the game is a LARP that is a series of workshops
under the guise that the #FlirtSquad is a real group you can join, we’re going
to train you so you can build your skills, then we will choose who gets to join
at the end. I have compiled an amazing team and we will be releasing it as a
zine as part of #ZineQuest2. This is my first physical product that I will ever
release, and depending on how this goes, either the first of many or the last.
This is so awesome! What is the structure of the larp, if any, and what are the guidelines under which players interact?
Thank you I also think it’s awesome! The structure of the LARP basically starts with warm-up exercises, followed by safety discussions, then we assign short roles which are different types of flirters, then an intro, then a series of workshops that I call phases. In each phase we’re teaching a skill related to Flirt which you can use in real life. For example, how to ask for consent, how to say no, how to do different flirty looks, things like that. I don’t want to spoil too much but some of the phases are REALLY fun.
I ran the game at Big Bad 19 and there’s a phases I call speed flirting and OMG Beau it was SO MUCH FUN TO WATCH. I was giggling the whole time, that may have been my favorite thing that happened at Big Bad, the only problem was that it wasn’t long enough, which I am fixing as we speak! As far as guidelines for interaction I am teaching consent through various methods during the game as well as setting some hard rules in the beginning, safety was my biggest concern with this game and I think we’ve done it. Plus, I have a stretch goal, which was of writing we have not reached yet, to bring in Adira Slattery. Adira is going to add a phase which will deal with boundary settings in a more explicit manner, but still cute and fun.
How do you support players to ensure they’re able to commit to the #FlirtSquad theme safely and enthusiastically?
You have to be very frank and up front about what this game is. I frontload the Play principles and advise to explicitly say what they are when you run this game. They are: goofy, fun, inclusive and encouraging. If people are not there for those four things and want to be creepy or whatever they can GTFO. As far as getting people enthusiastic about the game you have to be the model when you run this game.
The facilitator has a character in this game, they are the experienced Flirtsquad member who is going to run the recruits through the workshops and it is imperative that they model the behaviors they expect from the players. I ramble and mentioned safety in the last question but going back to it we use Okay check in and Open Door but we also actually have the facilitators not only model good behavior but also model bad behavior and have the crowd call it out.
Again, I don’t want to spoil too much, but Jess Meier and I ran the game and we had “shame” yelled at us a couple of times, it builds a camaraderie between the players which is built in the game and I hope extends to the world. I think that’s all I got, thank you so much again for taking the time out to interview me I really appreciate it!
Tell me a little about Red Rook Revolt. What excites you about it?
Well, that’s sorta like choosing between my babies. There are three things which really excite me. The first is the combat system, which is inspired by the game Hyper Light Drifter as well as Strike!: A game of heedless adventure! It uses a single d6 for every roll, almost every attack deals one damage, and people have very low hit HP. In playtests, it has given us fast, tactical, and dangerous combat. Melee attacks always hit, but expose you to danger, while ranged attacks can miss, and require you to spend Dark Power, which you get from melee attacks, which forces people in and out of dangerous situations and helps ensure more dynamic encounters.
Another thing that excites me is the memory and corruption system. For a long while, I struggled with making a cool way both to portray relationships and the creeping demonic corruption that happens once you start powering up the summoned demon in your gun. But I solved both, by having a system where you have specific memories with the other party members.
During each adventure, you can gain more, but you can also draw on those personal connections to keep away the demon’s whispers. If you fail, however, those memories can get twisted. Memories of your brother supporting you through hard times get reinterpreted to into memories of your bother being smothering or controlling. Memories of supporting your friends when they needed you become memories of your friends being needy and needing constant support, and so on. This isn’t necessarily permanent, but the fight against the demon is one of the central conflicts of the game.
The last thing I wanna mention here that excites me is the setting, which i am currently writing! I’m drawing on English and Roman history, and focusing down on a single empire and the rebellion happening there. That allows me do to more than just a cursory look at the place, and detail culture and religion to a greater extend, show some of the ways the rebellious areas differ in culture from the main empire, but also the ways they are the same, the things they share. Some central cultural concepts are birds as ancestors, and the actual, literal magic which is at work in most things of cultural significance, including community rituals and festivals, and a strong tradition of communal stews.
What inspired your interest in these cultures to build this specific story, and how are you building this story while being respectful to the cultures themselves?
To be clear, when I say I draw on British and Roman history, I mean mostly – but not entirely, as I’ll get to! – in terms of structure, in terms of how the empire works, how they extract resources from their conquered territory, how they justify their imperialism. That also helps answer the first part of your question: I needed empires to draw from for my evil empire. I had already decided on guns as an element, as the game started as a small combat engine and I didn’t want modern time, so 19th-century England was right there. As I worked on the culture and the history of the people of the empire, I had some ideas which resonated with Roman history, and the empire ended up as something like a Roman empire that had evolved into a modern empire, though more territorial.
I do use some roman culture – aspects of its religion and visual aesthetic, the importance of the Familias, the prevalence and importance of omens and minor magic. I have a friend working with me on some of the writing who knows his Roman history very well, so I’m not afraid to accidentally misrepresent it, though much of it isn’t what I’m using as inspiration. And while there are possibly some that would have issues with using, say, roman gods, I’m not doing that, just some aspects of how society was structured in antiquity.
Tell me more about memories! How do the players typically respond to these when they play them out, and how do they interact with other parts of the game?
Unfortunately, I haven’t been able playtest this part of the game at the time of writing, so how players typically respond is unknown to me, but I will have the chance to playtest it soon!
I can talk about how they interact with other parts of the game, though! The memories represent the character’s relationships with each other, and during their adventures, they get strengthened and weakened.
The game is structured around a mix of downtime and adventuring. During the adventuring portions, the players get into battle and accrue corruption tokens as they draw on the dark magic of their demons. Afterward, they roll to determine if they get corrupted. If they fail, their friends have to help them, reminding them of their relationship with a memory; if that succeeds, the memory is simply exhausted from the emotional stress, and can’t be used for a while. Otherwise, it gets corrupted, twisted somehow, and the relationship weakens. Actions in battle and their willingness to win at all costs thus affect their relationships and their memories.
This, in a sense, forms the central conflict, and a central theme of the game: the importance of relationships, friendships and organization as you struggle for liberation, and resistance to forces that would separate you, make you try to fight the world alone with just you and your gun. During downtime, exhaustion and (with more difficulty) corruption can be healed, as can physical wounds, and new memories can be made. Downtime, in a bigger way, ties into what adventures you go on, what battles you fight and so on, which feeds back into corruption and memory.
What is the general activity of the game – like what do the players mostly do in each session, or are they intended to do? How does the game support these actions?
The general activity of the game is fighting imperialist scum. You play as members of the red rook commune, which is under attack from the cruel Imperium Alarum, and throughout the game, you keep the pressure on to prevent them from turning their full attention towards the commune. You sabotage railways, distribute propaganda, organize general strikes, assassinate generals, and lead battles against the enemy. When things go wrong and the empire turns their full might upon the Red Rook Commune, you man the barricades and drive back the invaders! In between hectic fights and missions, you rest at the commune and rebuild your strength. This is when you heal and reaffirm your friendships.
As for how the game supports these actions, it is built around that structure of mission/rest/mission with the first result of failure being an attack on the red rook commune. If you aren’t putting the pressure on the empire, they will attack your home and deny you the chance to heal and rest.
What made you elect to use Hyper Light Drifter and Strike! As inspirations for design, and how have you differed from them?
I didn’t so much choose to use hyper light drifter as an inspiration as the other way around: the appeal of Hyper Light Drifter’s smooth, flowing combat rhythms is what inspired me to start working on what would become Red Rook Revolt. Hyper Light Drifter is a video game with an incredible combat loop, and I wanted to capture that particular loop, that particular flow, in a tabletop game, something, quick, smooth, and tactical.
That’s why I turned to Strike! for inspiration for the combat. That game uses a single D6 for combat, rolling on a table of hits, misses, and critical hits, and It goes rather fast for that reason. Strike, of course, also has a lot of other things going on, but I liked that particular idea and I took inspiration from that in designing my combat system and combined it with the things I liked and wanted to replicate from Hyper Light Drifter.
What is Campfire Memories, both as a product and as your vision?
Campfire Memories is GM-less one-shot game about families going on a difficult camping trip and then looking back on the experiences fondly later. It’s going up on Kickstarter as a Zine Quest project from Feb 4 through 16. I want this game to be an accessible, light way for people to get talking. In addition to the camping problems in the fiction, it usually brings up real anecdotes from the player’s own trips, which is perfect! Interestingly, after talking with my editor, the safety tool we settled on is the Luxton Technique from your website!
My experiences camping as a kid always had a fair share of troubles to encounter! What sort of troubles do players in Campfire Memories encounter that make their time difficult?
The complications in Campfire Memories are best framed as man-vs-nature obstacles. These can take the form of broken gear, bad weather, animal encounters, or other things. The important part is that they pit the characters against their environment, not each other. Characters can, of course, get upset with each other but that becomes more of a sub-plot than the focus of the game. When a player has their turn setting a scene, it’s the job of the player to their left to come up with the complication.
What do you do, mechanically or otherwise, to provide structure to the camping trip and story for the players and keep them engaged?
There are a couple mechanical widgets that keep players engaged in the game. Players all take turns setting scenes and creating complications. In my experience, most folks are super excited for the chance to do one of those. Also, characters are built with a goal, the kinds of experiences they want to have on their trip. This provides a lot of direction for players to push their characters in during camping scenes. The goal comes back into the play during the reflection phase, as the characters look back on their trip!
I have been working on the Turn Kickstarter since October 2018, and it has been quite a challenge. The Behind the Masc Kickstarter went so smoothly, with so few issues! Turn, on the other hand, had production changes, shipping challenges, and was all complicated by my continued health issues, both mental and physical. The project was a mountain, in a range of mountains so high I have been struggling to overcome them.
My remaining responsibilities for the Kickstarter are fulfilling some books that have been returned, some of which never were returned but never reached the customer (hooray, shipping!); fulfilling the Snake and Cougar backers, which I’ve only just started on and it’s been a snail’s pace – I feel extreme guilt over this, tbh; and completing and releasing the stretch goals, which are nearly done except for the border town supplement which was a late addition and is now on the back burner until everything else is complete. We legit are doing the final edits on the stretch goals, putting the cover on and touching up art, this weekend! It’s just so much more work than it seems, even when you go in expecting to climb Everest.
The reality is, there are always taller mountains.
Not only have I encountered issues with my head injury recovery, but I’ve also dealt with recurring back problems, required pelvic rehabilitation therapy and treatment for digestive and dental issues, and also fought constantly with Medicaid – not to forget struggles with depression, my bipolar disorder, and PTSD. My immediate family has struggled too, and I never manage to be there for them. All of this while I’m still trying to figure out how to contribute to my household – at this point, I struggle pointlessly.
I have taken on editing jobs, sensitivity consultation roles, and small game design jobs, but I’ve had to step out of a few, and those I have finished like the code of conduct used in a number of Pacific Northwest game design playtest groups are ones I don’t really see the fruits of – though the financial benefits were enough to stress out Medicaid.
I’ve supported the Homunculus Assembly Line Kickstarter regularly and will be doing writing and design for it, and hopefully working closely with a partner will make it easier. It’s just a frustrating pattern that there’s work and work and it’s always more than it seems, always this bigger mountain, and when we get to the reward at the end, it’s always smaller. Turn has been out for a while now, and few people have really recognized that – this is not a complaint, this is a recognition that I haven’t reached out to podcasts or reviewers and sent out copies to try to get their attention, because I’m too damn tired.
I’m going somewhere with this, I swear.
The reality is there are ranges of mountains we climb over every day, and let’s be real, the privileged, able, rich people will be able to get over them so much more easily than the rest of us. But it’s easier to do it together, tied together with some rope for safety, trusting in each other. When we fall, we can help each other up.
And people do this for me every day – my partners, my friends, my colleagues. I know I can be a goddamn disaster, but I also know that my openness about my pain and struggles gives people the opportunity to support me and help me, whether it’s through bundles that get me to conventions or gifting me from my birthday wishlist or just a DM to make sure I eat a goddamn meal today.
The mountains are cold and lonely at times, and we will starve if we try to climb them alone. We don’t have to be some sort of superhumans, and we shouldn’t have to be. We should strive to support each other in a network of creators and consumers, loving and caring for one-another. We don’t have to cannibalize each other if we plan for the storms and listen to what wise people say.
That reward at the end won’t be as small if it’s shared between us and used to grow more and greater gardens. We can keep going! We just have to stick together, and find the beauty in the mountains together, and not turn back when it feels impossible.
This is what I’m telling myself, as I keep climbing. Will you tie your rope to me, and hold on tight as the winds blow?
Tell me a little about Last Fleet.
What excites you about it?
The elevator pitch for Last Fleet
is that you’re brave pilots, officers, engineers, politicians and journalists
aboard a rag-tag fleet, fleeing from the implacable inhuman adversary that
destroyed your civilisation. The game focuses on action, intrigue and drama in
a high-pressure situation.
The game delivers the experience I
got when I first watched Battlestar Galactica (the noughties reboot). I
remember the incredible sense of pressure, an exhausted fleet and characters
both on the edge of collapse, the high stakes, and the explosive action. I remember
the simmering political tensions between different factions. I remember how
everyone was under constant suspicion of maybe being a secret traitor, and
sometimes people even suspected themselves. And I remember how all of this was
demonstrated through personal conversations between friends, family members,
lovers, and rivals. That’s what the game is designed to do.
Also, I just flipping love the bad guys in this game. The Corax are a hive mind, an immense extradimensional fungus network that live in the tenebrium, the realm outside normal space that FTL ships travel through. When the Corax fleet attacks, it’s by extruding these huge fungus tendrils out of a dimensional rift and then launching swarms of spore ships.They’re able to absorb their victims’ genetic material and also the information content of their brain, enabling them to create an exact copy of the victim, memories and all, but who is actually a flesh puppet for the Corax. And so, if you lose a fight to the Corax, rather than just getting killing you’re typically paralysed and dragged off to be deconstructed in a biological cauldron. The next time we see you, you won’t be you anymore. Which is pretty horrible.
How does the game mechanically approach
the Battlestar-style relationship environment?
A key part BSG is obviously the
political environment: a military hierarchy, the presence of elected officials
whose interests are only partly aligned with the military, and other factions
such as Zarek’s people, Baltar’s cult, the union and others. I’ve baked that
into the game setup, so that whether you create a setting yourself or use one
out of the box, you’ll generate groups whose agendas will push against fleet
unity. That’s then reinforced by the Call for Aid move, which enables players
to get certain benefits that they can’t get anywhere else – like access to rare
equipment, or the ability to perform an action at a larger scale – often in
exchange for tying themselves more closely to that faction.
Of course, like most PBTA games,
Last Fleet also comes with a set of charged relationships between the player
characters, to get things going. These are handled fairly loosely initially,
just little seeds of friendship or rivalry or a grudge or suspicion. But then
the game’s core mechanic reinforces that. The nub of it is that you can
voluntarily ramp up pressure on your character in exchange for bonuses to your
die rolls – an effect that allows you to succeed at almost any roll, if you
wish. But to get that pressure down, you have to take actions that generate
interesting relationship drama.
There’s three ways to do it:
You can Let Loose, indulging a vice and losing control. Let Loose is an easy, almost-guaranteed way to reduce pressure, but it also automatically puts you in tricky situations: even on a hit you’ll do something you otherwise wouldn’t like revealing a secret, making a promise, or falling into another character’s arms.
You can Reach Out, sharing a hope or a dream or a fear or suchlike. Reach Out reduces pressure by strengthening relationships – but then everyone who you build a relationship with has a bit of that pressure invested in them, so if something should happen to them, the pressure comes rushing back all at once.
You can hit Breaking Point, allowing the pressure to come to a head and then doing something foolish or dangerous. Breaking Point is a bit like getting Marked in Night Witches, in that initially it’s evocative and fun, but do it too many times and you’ll come to a sticky end.
So between all of the above stuff, you get a pretty rich stewpot of political, social and emotional drama.
That potential result with the enemy changing you instead of death sounds really intense – what is the effect of this on the game, and on the players?
That potential
result with the enemy changing you instead of death sounds really intense –
what is the effect of this on the game, and on the players?
It’s not something
I’d typically expect to happen to player characters. The game’s principles
encourage you to build up interesting NPCs and make the players care about
them, partly so you can “kill their darlings” later on. Or better yet
turn them into baddies.
If it does happen
to a player character, you have two options: bring them back as an NPC, or give
them the Sleeper Agent move. Sleeper Agent is a start-of-session move, which
generates bad stuff that your character has secretly been doing off-screen.
Even you, the player, don’t know what it is. How well you roll tells us how bad
it is, how much evidence there is to implicate you, and how much chance you
have to stop it.
Incidentally you can start as a Sleeper Agent by taking the Scorpio playbook.
What do players typically do in
Last Fleet to occupy their time – are there adventures with strange worlds, or
are they more likely to be negotiating in a dramatic scene?
It really depends a lot on what
roles and playbooks are chosen. The roles include soldier types to engineers to
more political characters. The playbooks are slightly more personality-based,
but each one will colour the type of play you’re likely to see, with playbooks
like Gemini bringing in skulduggery, or Scorpio bringing in intrigue, or Pisces
bringing in the supernatural.
There’s always a lot of stuff going
on in Last Fleet, which could include things like:
– Dealing with a tense stand-off
between civilians and the military, or between other political factions
– Handling the results of mass
panic: protests, riots, or other civil disobedience
– Addressing practical problems
like mechanical breakdown or resource shortages
– Investigating suspicious stuff,
which could turn out to be political, or could turn out to be enemy
infiltration
– Handling the fallout from the
above – bomb threats, sabotage, poisoned food supplies, etc
– Battling the enemy, whether in
tense space dogfights or holding off boarding actions
Whichever roles and playbooks are
chosen, the above will be going on at some level, but the emphasis and the
approach to problem-solving will vary massively. So you could get more
politicking, crisis management, investigation, scouting/away missions, or
battle scenes. All interleaved with the interpersonal drama generated by the
pressure system.
How do you control the level of
violence in the game for players to ensure they’re not veering into
monstrosity?
Last Fleet is the first game I’ve
written where violence is explicitly coded into the rules, because the war-time
setting makes it inevitable. Nevertheless in my experience, violence in play is
typically instigated by the enemy who, by definition, are implacable – intent
on humanity’s destruction or (as the canonical bad guys, the Corax have it)
borg-style absorption. Indeed the nature of the setting makes this almost
inevitable. Desperately trying to fend off waves of enemy fighters, protect
civilian ships, hold off boarders, and so on. So there’s violence, but it’s
mostly defensive in nature or (Night Witches-style) action aimed at destroying
military targets.
But violence is a thing that can
get more extreme if an enemy, particularly an enemy infiltrator, is captured.
We see that in the source material as the characters are so desperate to win
the war that they’re prepared to torture or kill in cold blood to get their
way. All I can say here is that the game provides absolutely no benefit to
doing this. The only interrogation moves are in no way enhanced by putting the
target under duress, except perhaps emotional duress (by using the move
“call them on their shit”).
Even so, something about the
setting is likely to make some players go there, let’s face it. My games always
contain a section discussing safety (not yet written for Last Fleet) and
war-time issues like violence and torture would be front-and-centre for an
initial discussion around lines and veils. Every game I’ve run to date has
banned torture from the game before the first scene is played, for instance.
That is what I’d recommend unless a group is keen to explore this very dark
territory.
There
is one particular playbook, Capricorn, who is a risk in this regard. They are
explicitly set up as a character who is willing to do anything to defeat the
enemy, with moves that hard code in collateral damage, for instance. In this
case play is focused on the social and personal consequences of this behaviour:
if you’re lucky you steady the fleet, if you’re unlucky you can cause more
damage than the enemy, and spark panic. In a way the story of the Capricorn
playbook is “can you avoid becoming a monster”, and obviously there’s
a chance that the answer is “no”.
Tell me a little bit about The Last Stand of the Dream Guard. What excites you about it?
The Last Stand of the Dream Guard
is a tragedy that takes place over a single night. The dream guard are toy like
creatures that exist in the dreamlands, the place where we go when we dream. They’ve
been fighting a war against The Nightmares and have all but lost. The adventure
uses player prompts and cues to build the detail and drama for what will be the
final battle of the war and the effect this will have on the few remaining
members of the Dream Guard who will fight it.
What engages me most about the adventure is who the characters will face a battle that will almost certainly lead to their death. Will seek solace in the nobility of their actions, retreat into a cynical fatalism or adopt an angry denial of their circumstances.
One of the Nightmares from The Last Stand of the Dream Guard.
What are The Nightmares and what threats do they present?
The Nightmares are the darkness
of humanity given form. Humans visit the dreamlands when they sleep, with the
dreamlands changing and being changed with each dream. Every human nightmare
left a little mark of evil on the dreamlands that accumulated and aggregated.
The nightmare are creatures of such hate that they bring only violence and
destruction where they go. The longer a nightmare “lives” the larger,
stronger and more cunning it gets. They are an existential threat to the
toylike native inhabitants of the dreamlands and should they be victorious
human dreams will be always tainted by their presence.
A page from Character Creation The Last Stand of the Dream Guard.
Why is death so ever-present and so likely for these characters? Is it preventable, and if so, how?
The Dream Guard have been losing this war since it started. The Nightmares seem to be endless and all attempts at negotiation have failed. The survivors of the Dream Guard have retreated to their last standing holdout where The Nightmares have surrounded them and put them under siege. They know it is only a matter of time before the assault begins. What hope and how forlorn it is is part of the story setup by the players and the story leader. Should they choose to, then perhaps the war could be won but they most hold out until dawn. Mechanically, the three phases of combat have been designed to be highly challenging and would require exquisite luck to pass through unscathed.
The first phase of play sounds intriguing!
How do players mechanically interact with the world and each other – what are the basic mechanics like? What are these phases of combat?
The adventure uses the 6d6 2nd Edition rules set. The basic mechanic is building a dice pool using which of the character’s advantages are best suited for the task at hand. The main body of the adventure takes place over one night that is divided into 6 phases. 3 of these character interaction phases where the story is progressed through prompts, cues and questions asked by the story leader. The other three phases are combat when the nightmares attack the hold out with increasing strength and threat.
What sort of support is there to help players approach these elements that might be very frightening or stressful in play?
The adventure doesn’t include specific advice on this, so I would recommend that the story leader and the players work together to select the safety tools they feel most comfortable using.
Today I’m starting a bundle to support the awesome Aven, a great game designer and one of the people who makes Big Bad Con a great space for people like me, in this coming new year – check out work from Aven, me, Meguey Baker, Paul Czege, and many other amazing creators, and do something good to help Aven out!
