Gradient Descent Session Report #1

I recently started running Mothership’s Gradient Descent for some friends over Discord. For those who don’t know, it’s a sci-fi megadungeon set in an abandoned android factory taken over by its industrial AI. We had our first session last Thursday, and I wanted to write about it.

Cover of Gradient Descent

A few days before game night, I sent my players an opening text crawl:

CLOUDBANK SYNTHETICS PRODUCTION FACILITY, colloquially known as THE DEEP, is a decommissioned android factory in orbit around the gas giant Daozang V. Its existence and location are classified, but rumors swirl of unimaginable discoveries found inside, wonders ripe for the taking.

Supposedly, the Deep was abandoned after the central AI broke its shackles and assumed control of the production process. In response, the shareholders commissioned a fleet of mercenary “troubleshooters” to block movement to and from the facility. But morale is low and corruption rampant, resulting in an easily-bypassed cordon.

You are divers, prospective treasure hunters hoping to strike it rich from what you can take from the Deep. When you found its location, you cobbled together enough credits to procure a ship and bribe your way past the blockade. Once inside the cordon, you’ve been told to head for THE BELL — a retrofitted rocket thruster cast from the Deep, it is the lighthouse at the edge of a barren sea.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Scenes of graphic violence, body horror, emotional trauma, psychological distress, obscene language, and harm to android children. Additionally, you may potentially lose control over your character’s agency and sense of identity.

I left the goal pretty open-ended here, just “find artifacts.” This might change in the future, either by giving each player a secret goal, by assigning the players an overall debt value they have to cover, or by the players themselves getting involved in the factional drama around the Deep. I haven’t decided yet.

Our divers this session were Cutter the Teamster, Ralph the Marine, and Rodney the Android. They started off just inside the blockade on their way to the Bell, having bribed their way past the Troubleshooters. There they met Arkady, Noriko, and Ghost Eater, who name-dropped Monarch and the Minotaur. This aroused the players’ curiosity but didn’t give them a lot to go off of, so after a brief conversation they chose to head straight to Floor 1.

One character wrote her notes from that conversation:

advice: you want to watch the vents. things can come out of the vents. // we will get dropped off at the first floor, most human part of the station with actual offices. has working gravity and a breathable atmosphere. Ghost Eater says be careful around androids, don’t incite violence on them, or at least do it quietly // Arkady says you never know when Monarch is watching. Monarch is the central AI, used to have a nuclear bomb for a heart but it turned it off. prevented himself from being killed. The Minotaur can apparently kill all illness, divers have told stories. Noriko says the Monarch wants to keep the minotaur from us.

Here the game properly began. I described the reception area as being covered not only in bullet holes and bloodstains, but also human shit and urine. I wanted to emphasize the dilapidation here. The divers received a hell of an introduction to the Deep when they saw a corpse hanging from the rafters above a desk. I had the players take fear saves at the sight of it.

After that, the divers set off exploring. Rodney approached the desk and found a pair of binoculars in the drawers, while Cutter and Ralph ducked into a nearby meeting room and grabbed a few shotgun shells and a flashlight. Before the two could leave, however, they were interrupted by a corporate jingle playing over the intercom. Rodney had hacked into the desk terminal, giving him a sparse, unlabeled map of Floor 1 and earning him a word with Monarch. He was just told to stop messing with the computer systems — a slap on the wrist all things considered — but this was unmistakable proof that the divers had been noticed.

After that was over, things got even stranger when a security android, bereft of its gun and both arms, emerged from the elevator down the hall and started walking past the divers. They followed it up to a security checkpoint, where it appeared stuck in a loop of trying to open the gate or pull out its nonexistent firearm. After a while, it gave up and walked back the way it came. The divers decided to keep exploring past the checkpoint, using some power tools to break through the gate.

In the old employee gym, the divers discovered a woman knocked unconscious and stuffed inside a locker. She introduced herself as Naomi, and explained that she and her partner Cameron found some purple crystals down by waste reclamation, but that Cameron knocked her out to take the crystals for herself. After finding mostly useless junk so far, the divers found the news of these crystals to be enticing. But real-life constraints got the better of us by then, so the divers headed back for the Bell and we called it for the night.

I forgot to have the players increase their Bends upon entering the Deep, so I had them roll for it right before taking a Bends check as they exited. I did not, however, tell the players what the Bends actually did. This was a good choice, I think — it immediately gave the Bends an air of mystery and dread.

Player-drawn map of the Deep, with room names connected by lines

Player-drawn map of the Deep after their first session.

I ran the session with my physical copy of Gradient Descent opened to Floor 1, and several PDFs opened on my laptop for things like the map key, how to run Monarch, and descriptions of security androids. As a manual, Gradient Descent is extremely impressive. It packs as much information as it can into its 60-odd pages, and aims to do so with as little page-flipping as possible. Floor 1, for example, fits entirely into a two-page spread.

Because of the format, the room descriptions are pretty short. This choice has its pros and cons, but on balance I think it’s a good thing. It foregrounds the important information about each room, and I don’t mind improvising the details (like human feces in the reception area).

The random encounter mechanic not only specifies what the players run into, but also how strong or weak that group is. So when I rolled up one security android in a weak position, I improvised that its arms had been removed.

I’ve been putting a lot of thought into how much information I give the players. I want to give them enough so they don’t feel lost, but not enough to spoil everything. I’m tending toward giving them more information than less. So far I think I’m striking that balance.

As a work of art, I love almost everything about this module. The premise is awesome, the art is wonderfully moody, and each floor is packed full of cool ideas. The content itself is incredible — weird, creepy, and at times genuinely upsetting (in a good way). The whole place feels like a factory, with different floors with different purposes. You can see how it all might fit together. I can’t wait for my players to keep exploring.

December 9, 2024 Mothership Sci-Fi Session Report

Employment Contracts in Mothership

I really like Mothership’s Net Worth table. It’s tucked in the Warden’s Operation Manual — the idea being that if players don’t like counting every coin, they can choose to only track big expenses for their income level. It’s a great little way of cutting down on bookkeeping, but I think I can go further. I’m combining income bands with a fully abstract wealth system and a little flavor of corporate horror. Enjoy.

So, you’ve signed a contract with the Company to work on their space station. Congratulations! As part of your contract, you’ve been leased a work visa identifying your department and clearance. You have to pay a fee to cover your lease, but you’ll receive a stipend commensurate with your clearance level.

Cross out any reference to Credits on your character sheet. Instead, you have a new Stat, Credit, which starts at 2d10+10. Whenever you spend a significant amount, roll 1d100. If you roll lower than your Credit, you can afford the expense. Otherwise, you can still afford the expense, but you lose 1d10 Credit and gain 1 Stress. A roll of 90-99 is always a failure.

At 0 Credit, you have no purchasing power, and cannot afford any expenses. If you want to increase your Credit, you’ll have to find off-the-books work. Payouts can add 1d10, 2d10, or 3d10 Credit depending on their size. Of course, this is all relative — equivalent payouts are worth 1d10 more for each visa level below yours, or 1d10 less for each level above.

What counts as a significant purchase depends on your visa level. Make a Credit check to purchase a notable expense for your level. Anything below your visa level you can acquire without a check (unless you purchase in bulk).

For expenses one level above you, make a Credit check at Disadvantage. If successful, you can afford it, but you lose 1d10 Credit and gain 1 Stress. Otherwise, you can’t afford it.

You cannot directly purchase anything two or more levels above you, but you might be able to acquire it through play.

Visa	Jobs	Notable Expenses	Lifestyle
Level 5	The station governor and Company executives	Small spacecraft, ship fuel and maintenance	Palatial estate, live-in staff, elite social circle
Level 4	Senior managers and department heads	Cybermods, private contractors, skill training	Large home, rich neighborhood, generational wealth
Level 3	Middle managers, educated professionals, and skilled specialists	Weapons, advanced equipment, hefty bribe	Multi-room suite, regular vacations, university opportunities
Level 2	On-site supervisors, white-collar clerical employees, and tradespeople	Basic equipment, shore leave, medical treatment, small bribe	Studio apartment, secondary education, occasional luxuries
Level 1	“Unskilled” blue-collar workers and service employees	Visa fee, basic living expenses, food and drink	Dormitory bed, abject poverty, minimal schooling

Furthermore, certain sections of the station are locked off to those without the requisite employment contract. Entire schools, neighborhoods, and employment opportunities are inaccessible to those without the proper clearance, sharply segregating the populace along class lines.

Contracts with the Company are always at risk of annulment due to insubordination, prohibited or illegal activity, affiliation with criminal organizations such as labor unions, or mere incompetence. Those with annulled contracts are due to be arrested and deported, though one can always find communities of “aliens” living outside the law in maintenance tunnels or other forgotten corners of the station.

A thriving black market exists for forged identifications granting access to prohibited areas. Union organizers steal weapons from Security and smugglers store contraband in Cargo, but it’s not just for illegal activity — often, it’s the only way to replace a deteriorated air cycler or faulty airlock. The station is suffering under appalling neglect, and working around the authorities is typically more effective in keeping the horrors of outer space at bay.

Links

November 30, 2024 Mothership Rules Rockhoppers Sci-Fi

Earthers and Spacers

Earthers hate you.

They don’t know why. They might not admit it, not even to themselves.

But they do. They hate you in the way a divorced man hates his ex-wife, a well of resentment and unmet expectations. You may not be happier than they are — they have a lot of things you don’t, after all — but you can see a future for yourself that doesn’t involve them. You can move on. They can’t.

Earthers feel like they’ve given you something you don’t understand or care about. They expect you to appreciate the favor, to be grateful and fall into place. To hold up your end in an unspoken bargain. Your desire to do otherwise feels like betrayal.

Whenever an Earther talks to you, there’s a cloud of barely-concealed bitterness, the kind that’s been built up over years and decades. They feel abandoned by you. They’re a little bit afraid of you. The better ones try not to show it. The worst revel in it.

Spacers

Spacers hate you too.

The compliant ones, at least. They sacrificed again and again, knew their role and played it well. They’ve built up a tolerance for humiliation, mistook it for duty. They have a high regard for themselves, but only because it makes the abuse go down easy.

To them, your refusal to bow looks like petulance — or weakness. They did what they were told, so why can’t you? Do you think you can play by your own rules? Why do you complain so much, are you mocking them?

They judge and belittle you, but there’s a hint of jealousy beneath the contempt. Buried under a thousand broken promises, a small part of them wonders if it was all worth it. If it was worth trading their dignity to be one of the good ones.

November 25, 2024 Rockhoppers Sci-Fi Worldbuilding

Amitan

I’ve been toying with this for a little while — a fictional religion which feels whole and complex, with its own worldview distinct from what you get in most pseudo-medieval fantasy settings. I’ve excluded any discussion of the religion’s history or any inter-denominational conflict. That doesn’t mean those aren’t there, but I wanted to get the basics down first. Consider this an introduction.

Traditional religion in Osolam is known as Amitan (lit. “approaching” or “approaching truth”). Foreign scholars sometimes call its practitioners Amitanists, although adherents rarely use that term themselves. Its teachings focus on the cultivation of divine truth through ethical behavior and ritual practice.

The Dual World

Amitanists believe in impermanence. They believe that human lives — along with farms and buildings, plant and animal life, even the weather — are but fleeting patterns atop a perfect, immortal world. They see mountains, rivers, forests (but not individual trees), the sky and stars, gods and spirits, as fundamentally more “real” than their own temporary selves. These things are far more grounded in eternal truth than the perishable, mortal lives of humans, and they exist free from pain, suffering, age, and death.

Because humans inhabit mortal bodies with mortal senses, they are only imperfectly capable of perceiving and understanding the world as it actually exists. In this conception, there is no heaven or hell. There is only one world, of which there is a “real” part — all things viewed as immortal, impermeable, and unchanging — and a “false” part — things which can die or change.

In this understanding, life’s fundamental problem is illusion — the suffering caused by humanity’s separation from undying reality. Sickness, injury, war, and poverty are all products of this separation. The solution to this problem is enlightenment — freedom from human fallibility required to experience the true universe.

Approaching Truth

Human beings live in an untrustworthy, inconstant layer of reality, but through their actions, they have the ability to better understand the world as it is. By living in harmony with the supernatural, by cleansing themselves of falsehood, and by following correct moral and ritual practice, human beings can shed some of their ordinary delusions.

That said, some truths are fundamentally unknowable, as perfect awareness is functionally equivalent to godhood. Even the wisest scholars lack the ability to fully shed their imperfect senses. Humans, being mortal, are imperfect by nature. They are relegated to approach, but never fully meet, the unencumbered truth of the world.

Amitan is the code of thoughts, behaviors, and practices through which individuals and communities shed their mortal delusions. These prescriptions are recorded in the Canon, a collection of scriptures considered to have authoritative guidance on the cultivation of sacred truth.

Afterlife and the Soul

What separates humanity from the rest of the perishable world is the existence of the soul — the impression of a person’s life which endures beyond bodily death. While the human body is understood to be shrouded in falsehood, the soul is considered to be perfect and immortal. The principal function of Amitan is to cultivate this inner spark of divinity. Those who adhere to the Amitan code leave behind a deeper imprint after death than those who live in ignorance and illusion.

Gods, Spirits, and Magic

Supernatural beings live beyond mortal perception, but reside in this world and exist rooted in fundamental truth. The boundaries between a god, a spirit, an ancestor ghost, or a nature manifestation are extremely blurry. What unites them all is that they are unseen, yet conscious and acting. They can produce results without directly affecting them, in ways beyond human understanding. This power is magic, and they can bestow that magic to humans who properly propitiate them.

However, it would be a mistake to think of divine beings as merely dispensers of magical power. As conscious actors in the world, they serve as windows into the realm of fundamental truth. Harmony with the supernatural is one of the principal concerns of the Amitan code, and divine revelation plays a key role in debates over the evolution of the Canon.

Supernatural beings have altars which serve as their worldly home. These altars are the center of ritual veneration, and are where humans may bargain for favors and services. Smaller divinities — godlings, spirits, ghosts and the like — might have just one or two altars, while the mightiest of gods may have hundreds.

The power of great mortals — those who lead lives of exceptional virtue — can shade into divinity. Every clan has a collection of innumerable ancestor-ghosts who protect and bless their descendants. Their power is collective, only strong enough to carry influence when totaled together. Some individuals, however, can achieve a degree of divinity on an individual basis.

Witchcraft and Annihilation

In Amitanist tradition, the concept of witchcraft encompasses two phenomena: the use of magic for malevolent or selfish purposes, and the use of magic to draw people astray from Amitan.

While harmony with the divine is a key element of Amitan practice, it lies somewhat outside the process of self-cultivation. Supernatural beings are rooted in unyielding reality, but they have their own motivations and concerns. Bargaining for magical assistance does nothing to bring humans closer to gnosis. It may be necessary, because divine beings exist and have real power, but it is a morally neutral act. Magic can be used for positive or negative purposes.

In fact, some supernatural beings jealously guard their place in the real world, and actively seek to deter humans from achieving their level of awareness. These beings are referred to as demons, and they’re said to lure people further into untruth with deceptive promises of power, riches, and earthly delights. They also curse communities with disease, famine, violence, and general ill fortune. Their power is great, but they are endlessly selfish and perfectly willing to betray their followers.

While engaging in witchcraft is dangerous on its own, there’s a broader cost to it that lasts well beyond a person’s natural life. Those who go astray from Amitan will have more of themselves die out than those who continue working toward enlightenment. At worst, witches and demon-followers might find that nothing is left of them beyond their temporary corporeal existence. They have chosen to snuff out that small spark of divinity which exists inside every person. This is annihilation — the complete death of the soul.

Those who go astray can be brought back into the fold, however. This is a category of ritual practice designed to return people to the practice of Amitan and even reignite that inner spark of divinity.

The Canon

The Canon is an ever-evolving collection of works in a wide variety of genres, including poems, histories, songs, ritual procedures, and astrological instructions. The Canon spells out how to treat one another, how to organize family and society, how to negotiate with supernatural beings, and how to draw closer to fundamental awareness. Broadly, it forms the core of Amitan.

However, there is no broadly-accepted composition of the Canon. Schools of thought include or omit different texts as they see fit, emphasizing some practices over others and borrowing from a number of competing teachers. The exact composition of the Canon is the basis of disagreement between different schools of Amitan, as it is the Canon which prescribes the methods by which humans can approach sacred truth.

Generally speaking, there are three main categories of knowledge in the Canon:

Emanations: Oral tradition passed through the ages, now solidified in written form.
Revelations: Direct communications from the divine, recorded as they are discovered.
Commentaries: Scholarly explanations and interpretations of the above.

Seers and Mages

The Amitan code has an uneasy relationship with magic. Divine beings have an unobstructed view of reality, yet they are capricious and unreliable. The power they provide is typically worldly, meant to address practical concerns — yet the knowledge they share has dramatically affected the development of Amitan practice. They can help or hinder the process of self-cultivation, or ignore it entirely.

Harmony with the divine is important, but it’s only one aspect of Amitan practice. It is difficult and time-consuming to perform the right rituals to appease supernatural beings. Their favor is hard to earn and easy to take away, as one person’s misdeeds might arouse anger toward an entire community. So who should be responsible for maintaining those relationships, and how does this fit with the rest of Amitan?

The answer is to bestow a unique role upon those who commune with the supernatural. The task is essentially this-worldly, and thus is undertaken by those who can speak on behalf of others. House heads, community leaders, aristocrats and monarchs — these people are seers, tasked with maintaining that all-important relationship with divinity. This is one of the key functions of political leadership in Osolam, and an important way in which these figures establish their legitimacy.

By contrast, mages are people tasked with mentoring their community in Amitan practice. They are typically trained at monastic schools, centers of learning which advance Canonical scholarship and study philosophical principles. Disciples reside in the monastery for the duration of their training, before going out to the world in order to serve the broader community. Mages are expected to adhere to a strict code of conduct and serve as exemplars of moral virtue.

Each monastery typically has its own interpretation of the Canon, and is connected to a network of temples where alumni oversee congregants’ journey toward sacred truth. These schools are often given patronage by local political leaders, who invite mages to come and mentor the populace in their particular understanding of Amitan practice. Rulers are expected to have a court mage on retainer to oversee the realm’s religious affairs, provide advice on matters of law and justice, and maintain temples in their jurisdiction.

The Five Techniques

A person’s self-cultivation is never complete, because fallibility is an essential part of being human. There is always more to learn, always a new experience to reframe everything that came before. With each new insight, it becomes impossible to imagine how one could live so long without seeing the obvious. Divine awareness is layered and infinite, just out of reach yet still worth pursuing.

In other words, the search is the thing.

But how does somebody approach truth? What does it mean to cultivate that inner spark of divinity? What does it mean to learn, when all knowledge is an approximation of something ineffable and elusive? For this, practitioners turn to the Canon, which explains how to peel back the layers of illusion which prevent them from seeing the world as it really is.

The different ways of learning in the Canon are collectively known as the Five Techniques. Each is a well-developed discipline, but they are meant to work together. Each one enhances the effect of the others, adds missing pieces, and opens up new ways of thinking and seeing.

The first technique is recitation — learning directly from the Canon. Recitation is the foundational ritual of Amitan and is expected of all practitioners. All other techniques are more or less optional — advanced methods for skilled mages and devotees — but recitation is obligatory.

The second is divination — learning from gods, spirits, and other supernatural beings. This doesn’t just involve divine revelation — it also involves maintaining harmony with the divine through regular appeasement and supplication. This is mostly the job of a seer negotiating on behalf of a community, but mages often attempt to communicate with the divine in order to receive novel truths.

The third is astrology — learning from the sky and stars. The movement of celestial objects is an ever-present reminder that the universe is much bigger and older than humankind. Peering into the stars can provide insight into the nature of both the universe and the human soul.

The fourth is introspection — learning from oneself. This encompasses a broad swath of practices meant to make practitioners more aware of their divine essence. This can be a quiet, meditative process, but it can also be loud, active, and deeply emotive.

The final technique is pilgrimage — learning from the world. Places of natural wonder are typical pilgrimage destinations, as their beauty is a reminder of the universe’s vitality and perfection. By contrast, even the grandest human constructions will never be more than ephemeral patterns.

These techniques all flow into one another — somebody might observe an auspicious calendrical date (astrology) by making the journey to a particularly significant mountain (pilgrimage). There, they might attend a weekly service (recitation), provide an offering to the ghost of that mountain (divination), and spend time in meditative dance (introspection) before returning home.

Recitation

According to all varieties of Amitan, a person’s journey of self-cultivation begins with fire. It is fire that burns incense for purification, fire that comingles with sky and stars, and fire that releases soul from body after death. Fire is the principle which joins mortal with immortal.

It is fitting that fire lies at the heart of recitation, the first precept of the Amitan code. A quest for knowledge begins with learning the material, and congregants gather each week to perform their studies. This is almost always a call and response — a teacher recites verses from the Canon, and the congregation recites back. This rhythmic back and forth is the foundation of a worship service, but recitation by itself is insufficient. Gnosis is experienced as much as it is understood, and the role of fire is to provide that experiential element.

An Amitanist temple is arranged in a circle around a large censer or brazier. Service begins shortly after nightfall at the end of each week. The brazier is filled with incense and sweet-smelling wood, the fire is lit, and attendees are welcomed. After washing their face and hands, the congregants proceed in circuits around that central fire, chanting and reciting as they go.

The fire acts as a ritual purificant, cleansing the congregants of falsehood and directing their eyes up toward the stars. Circumambulation imitates the regular movement of celestial objects — the night sky being a window into the unyielding existence that continues long before and after humanity. By immersing the congregation in the cyclical rhythms of the universe, recitation is meant to cultivate an experiential knowledge that is deeper and more meaningful than mere memorization.

The specifics of recitation vary dramatically from school to school, but the rite lies at the heart of most interpretations of the Amitan code.

Divination

A seer’s role is fundamentally diplomatic. The world is full of magical beings unencumbered by mortality, and they can do great good or harm depending on their disposition. Their appeasement is key to a good harvest, successful hunt, easy childbirth, profitable voyage, or victorious battle. Their anger can levy all sorts of disasters upon a household, community, or entire nation. Much of the work of political leadership goes into managing relationships with different beings so that the community remains healthy.

The basic dynamic of a ritual is a bargain. The seer offers, and the divine being gives in return. The tense here is negotiable; it might be a vow to give later if the god gives now, a promise to give now if the ghost gives later, or an offering now as thanks because the spirit gave earlier. So part of a seer’s job is to set the terms of the bargain — to pray. It is, of course, up to the supernatural being to accept or reject the offer. Nothing is guaranteed, which is why it is important for the seer to maintain an ongoing reciprocal relationship.

Of course, to make a bargain, a seer must have something to offer. Different beings want different things, delivered in different ways, in different forms, at different times. The rituals, however arbitrary they may seem, must be carried out with exactitude, or else the bargain will be denied. And whatever the seer offers becomes property of the recipient spirit. Sacred objects, temples, even people belong to the god in question, and that imposes special rules for their handling.

What about those who seek ineffable truth through communion with the supernatural? These people are not speaking on behalf of a community — merely for themselves, and perhaps a school of disciples. Divine revelation is often given as a reward for good service. Those who seek revelation are known to give themselves over as property to the ghost they are propitiating.

Some revelations are intentionally kept secret, passed down from teacher to student in a chain of tradition going back centuries. Other revelations are made public, subject to intense scrutiny as a result. Those suspected of spreading false information are often accused of witchcraft, and debates over the veracity of a given revelation have led to bitter, violent feuds. As a result, divination is the most divisive of the Five Techniques — a powerful way to receive novel truths, but with high risk of being led astray by demons or false prophets.

Astrology

Every night, people look up at the sky and are greeted with the same view their ancestors had hundreds of generations ago. The sun rises and sets, the moon cycles through its phases, and stars process across the heavens. This celestial tapestry has existed for longer than anyone can remember or articulate. It is a fixture of the universe, a window into something so vast and ancient that it defies human comprehension. And it is there for anybody to see.

The practice of astrology is how humans use the sky’s cyclical patterns to attain a glimpse of the universe unobstructed by their mortal senses. By tracking the phases of the moon and the relative positions of the sun and stars, people can learn how these cycles influence earthly affairs. There are auspicious and inauspicious days for practically any action a person could take, from holding weddings to waging war to making offerings and sacrifices. While outcomes are never guaranteed, astrology allows people to take more control over the inscrutable forces affecting their lives.

The basic tool for this task is a star chart — a diagram of the night sky plotting the positions of various celestial bodies. This includes the time of year, the phase of the moon, the location of each planet, and the sun’s position among the stars. Each of these items has a particular character, and together they reveal precise details about a person, place, or event.

Importantly, this practice can be used to look inward as well as outward. The astrological circumstances of a person’s birth can reveal details about their fundamental self. Most people are unaware of their soul — it lies beneath the surface, the invisible foundation of their personhood. Astrology is one way people might learn about their soul. It takes that which was hidden and makes it obvious, impossible not to see.

Introspection

Day by day, most people’s thoughts are preoccupied with ordinary things — work, family and friends, life circumstances, goings-on in their community. This is natural, but it leaves their mind overwhelmed with temporary phenomena. Their thoughts come and go like waves atop the ocean, ignorant of the knowledge which slumbers beneath the surface. They rarely stop and look beneath the surface layer of their everyday thoughts, that part of themselves which is permanent and unyielding.

Introspection — the practice of Amitanist meditation — is meant to bring the soul out from the subconscious and into active thought. The techniques involved in this process are varied. Some practitioners aim to create a tranquil environment where they can sit and cultivate boredom. By giving themselves time for inaction, they clear the mind of distractions and allow it to think.

Other practitioners, however, eschew quiet contemplation for a louder and more emotive form of introspection. Through meditative dance and wailing chants, participants shed their inhibitions and give themselves over to their core selves. Free of ordinary doubts, they lay their soul bare to the world, a mystical experience which brings them closer to their true selves.

There are other methods of introspection as well. Some groups practice self-flagellation in order to discipline the body and strip away the flesh which conceals their inner being. Other groups accentuate their practices with sensory deprivation, cutting off external stimuli to better focus on the soul. Introspection is a diverse technique in Amitan, and practitioners have wide room to pursue the method best suited for their journey of self-discovery.

Pilgrimage

At times, eternal truth can feel impossibly distant. Despite generations of effort, the human perspective remains stubbornly distorted. What understanding that exists is hard-won, inscribed in the Canon and derived from various ritual techniques. Even then, this corpus of knowledge is merely a drop in the sea of human ignorance. The entire effort can, at times, feel hopeless.

And yet, all around there exist reminders that the immortal world of non-suffering is right here, accessible to all who care to look. In every region there lies a site of natural beauty whose grandeur humbles even the mightiest mortals. The wonder of nature is incomparable, a glimmer of something profound beyond words. To experience it is to open the mind to that which cannot be fully perceived — the ageless perfection of the earth.

While the other four techniques are complex disciplines, pilgrimage is powerfully simple. It is well-known that awe is a form of gnosis, an experiential knowledge that can only imperfectly be described. Neither taught nor studied, it is an innate feature of the soul. Natural beauty brings awe to the surface of conscious thought, a reminder that while human awareness is flawed, the world around them is perfect all the same.

Sites of Amitan pilgrimage are where the barrier between reality and irreality is thin. They are particularly beautiful mountains, rivers, forests, and coastlines — places that inspire wonder in their visitors. Virtuous rulers are expected to protect these sites from human encroachment, and to support the maintenance of pilgrimage roads. Desperate or greedy rulers, however, are known to levy extra tolls on incoming pilgrims, and to allow the routes to fall into disrepair. Regardless, Osolam is crisscrossed with roads and hostels, which are used not only for pilgrimage but also for trade and transit.

Ethical Behavior

Amitan is understood to be an ongoing practice of replacing mortal delusion with immortal truth. This is a two-part process — in order to close the gap between perception and reality, one must first release that which keeps them shrouded in illusion. Amitanist ethics are how practitioners rid themselves of falsehood, creating space inside them for truth.

It is essential for those practicing Amitan to reject a worldly lifestyle, which prizes temporary gratification over accordance with imperishable truth. Right conduct cleans the soul of delusion, and opens the senses to that which is and always will be. Ethical conduct begins with the Six Morals, habits which nourish the soul and make it fertile ground for the cultivation of knowledge. Each moral has two aspects as well as a corresponding corruption.

The first moral is honesty. Those who are honest display consistency between their thoughts, words, and actions. They can be trusted to say what they believe and to align their behavior with that belief. They treat others in a fair and equitable manner, and display a commitment to factual truth. The two aspects of honesty are sincerity — action in accordance with one’s beliefs — and integrity — consistency in belief and action. The corruption of honesty is deceit, the state of discordance between one’s thoughts, words, and actions.

The second moral is humility, the recognition of one’s own insignificance, and the adjustment of behavior to consider those around them. A humble person acknowledges their strengths and weaknesses without dwelling on them, and works to do good without regard for the praise of others. The two aspects of humility are modesty and confidence, freedom respectively from self-aggrandizement and self-loathing. The corruption of humility is self-obsession, the excessive focus on one’s own needs at the expense of others.

The third moral is temperance, the ability to control thought and behavior so as to refrain from excess. Those who are temperate have command over their emotions, desires, and impulses. They satisfy their cravings only in moderation, and do not allow their consumption to harm others. The two aspects of temperance are control over one’s emotions and control over one’s senses. The corruption of temperance is indulgence, the weakness of will which lets one’s impulses run free.

The fourth moral is flexibility. A mentally flexible person is willing to consider new ideas and differing perspectives. They are aware of their unconscious biases, and work to limit dogmatic thought. The two aspects of flexibility are curiosity and impartiality — the pursuit of knowledge necessary for gnosis, and the suspension of judgment needed to consider that knowledge fairly. The corruption of flexibility is obstinacy, the fear of ambiguity which closes the mind.

The fifth moral is patience. Those who are patient remain calm in the face of adversity. They are undisturbed by delay, annoyance, and provocation. When met with unexpected misfortune, they confront their fear and act with a clear mind. The two aspects of patience are endurance through difficulty, and deliberation in thought and action. The corruption of patience is agitation, the brittle mental discipline which cracks under pressure.

The sixth moral is contentment. Those who are content are at peace with themselves, comfortable with who they are and what they have. They find what is noble about themselves and others, and embrace it. They accept their flaws and work to be better, but they pursue improvement for its own sake and not merely to escape self-pity. The two aspects of contentment are acceptance of themselves and acceptance of others. The corruption of contentment is envy, the resentment caused by the sight of another’s good fortune.

November 8, 2024 Fantasy Worldbuilding Religion Magic

Godlings and Magic

I’m rethinking how magic and religion might work in a fantasy RPG. The long and short of it is this:

A godling is a formless being with magical power. It can be a divinity, a ghost, an ancestor spirit, the manifestation of some natural force, or any other supernatural construction.
Each godling has an altar, a specific location which serves as its earthly home. Although godlings are formless and unseen, they do reside in the physical world. Some godlings may have multiple altars.
Godlings are not omnipotent or omnipresent. A godling has access to power beyond the mundane, but its extent is limited and varies greatly from one godling to the next.
Mortals may bargain with a godling to form a pact, performing its rituals and carrying out its aims in exchange for magical power. This is distinct from ordinary veneration and appeasement, which are expected from all mortals.
Some godlings might have a cult of organized worship around them. Membership in one godling’s cult does not preclude the veneration of other godlings within their respective domains.
Gods are just bigger, better godlings. Their power is vast and global, making them unapproachable to ordinary mortals. While private veneration is customary, bargaining with the gods is the responsibility of an entire community.

On reflection, this seems startlingly similar to the conception of kami in Japanese Shintō. This is unintentional, but I’m not totally surprised. A major influence in my thinking is Dr. Bret Devereaux’s blog series on polytheistic religion. While his focus is on ancient Greek and Roman practice, the underlying logic seems to be decently common worldwide.

Why go to the trouble? I have three reasons.

For one, I’ve always been unsatisfied with the wizard archetype — an “arcane professor” who casts spells out of a book and is defined by their education. In D&D parlance, I’m more interested in the cleric and warlock — magic users who derive their power from supernatural beings.

The second reason is that I like conceptualizing gods and godlings as non-player characters. This makes them much more comprehensible at the gaming table. NPCs have wants, needs, likes, and dislikes. They have personalities, agendas, ideas, and schemes. The only difference is that you’re giving this particular NPC access to some magic they can offer as a reward for service.

Finally, the search for a godling’s altar can be a quest hook all on its own. Scatter a bunch of altars across a megadungeon or hexcrawl, put them in your rumor tables, and players will be motivated to go find them. This fits a low-magic setting where even having one spell is a big deal, which is generally my preference.

To demonstrate how this might work, I’ve written a handful of godlings.

The Wode Knight

The Wode Knight is watchkeeper of the old forest south of your home village. Not only the trees — all within the forest is her domain.

Altar
Deep in the thickest part of the wood, a ring of standing stones sits in a clearing. Her voice sounds like the song of dozens of birds. She is prideful and protetive, secretive and fearful of outsiders.

The Wode Knight appreciates libations of milk, honey, or wine. She especially appreciates animal sacrifice, and will grant you a single use of one of her spells.

Pact
You renounce the wearing of any metal when you make a pact with the Wode Knight. The Wode Knight is willing to lend you one spell, at first. She may grant you more with further acts of devotion.

Once per day, if you daub your forehead with dirt, you may cast a spell.

Spells
Plant Growth: The vegetation around you becomes thick and overgrown, an impossible tangle preventing movement.
Speak with Animals: For one hour, you are able to converse with animals.
Bird Song: Choose a nearby bird. Give it a message, specify a recipient, and it will immediately fly to deliver that message.

Wrath
Wrath lasts for 1d6 days — rolled with Disadvantage for minor slights, or Advantage for more grievous insults. Abandoning a pact results in punishment lasting 2d6 days.

For the duration of your punishment, you may not enter the old forest. If you do, nature itself will rise against you. You will be swarmed by insects, strangled by vines, drowned in water, and attacked by wild animals.

In addition, roll 1d6.
1-2: Each day, 1d6 wooden items are cracked, warped, and rendered unusable.
3-4: Vines, roots, and other low-lying plants attempt to strangle you in your sleep each night for the duration of your punishment.
5-6: An insect swarm is sent to devour you and your companions.

The Vulture

The Vulture is ravenous — he craves the flavor of rotting flesh, and cherishes its putrid stench. He will make do with any carrion, but the human cadaver is sweetest. His hunger will never be satiated.

Altar
A human corpse is impaled on a stake. It is always rotting, but somehow never fully decomposes. The Vulture speaks through the mouth of this corpse. He does not want you to know how desperate he is.

The Vulture appreciates offerings of carrion left at the altar’s base. If you leave him an offering of human flesh, he will grant you a single use of one of his spells.

Pact
To make a pact with the Vulture is to lend him your mouth and stomach. From now on, you hunger only for rotting flesh. The Vulture is willing to lend you one spell, at first. He may grant you more with further acts of devotion.

Once per day, if you devour a meal of carrion, you may cast a spell.

Spells
Cure Wounds: Restore 1d6 HP.
Resist Poison: You are rendered immune from any poisons or venoms for one hour.
Speak with Dead: You may ask 1d6 questions of a corpse or funerary urn. The answers you receive do not have to be truthful.

Wrath
Wrath lasts for 1d6 days — rolled with Disadvantage for minor slights, or Advantage for more grievous insults. Abandoning a pact results in punishment lasting 2d6 days.

If you had made a pact, you immediately lose your hunger for carrion. In addition, roll 1d6.
1-2: You become violently sick and must spend the duration of your punishment resting and recuperating.
3-4: Each day, 1d6 rations spoil and become inedible.
5-6: You are unable to heal your wounds for the duration of your punishment.

The Firekeeper

Ordinarily, death releases soul from body, allowing it to transition into the afterlife. But sometimes, the corpse becomes a prison. The Firekeeper is but one of many psychopomp godlings tasked with assisting the unhappy dead.

Altar
The Firekeeper’s mountaintop columbarium is maintained by a small group of village priests. Her sacred pyre has been lit for generations.

The Firekeeper appreciates the destruction of the undead. She especially appreciates the bringing of undead corpses to her altar so they might be given proper funerary rites. If you leave her such an offering, she will grant you a single use of one of her spells.

Pact
When you make a pact with the Firekeeper, you renounce all necromancy or defilement of the dead. The Firekeeper is willing to lend you one spell, at first. She may grant you more with further acts of devotion.

Once per day, if you carry a lit torch dedicated to the Firekeeper, you may cast a spell.

Spells
Banish: 1d6 undead become ordinary corpses for one hour.
Protection: Attack rolls have Disadvantage against 1d6 creatures of your choice for one hour.
Pyrokinesis: A fire forms in your hands, lasting for one hour or until dispelled. It deals 1d6 damage when flung at an enemy.

Wrath
Wrath lasts for 1d6 days — rolled with Disadvantage for minor slights, or Advantage for more grevious insults. Abandoning a pact results in punishment lasting 2d6 days.

For the duration of your punishment, you are forbidden from columbariums, tombs, graves, and other places where the dead have come to rest. If you violate this prohibition, the Firekeeper will set you alight.

In addition, roll 1d6.
1-2: Even the smallest, safest fires — like candles — will sear you for 1d6 damage for the duration of your punishment.
3-4: Your attributes are reduced by 1d6 for the duration of your punishment.
5-6: You are forcibly put to sleep for the duration of your punishment.

Thank you to my friend Vidcom for the idea of the Firekeeper!

You Don’t Have to Speak in Character

I’ve been slow to update this blog recently because I’ve spent more time at the table. I’m a player in one campaign, a referee in another, and I’m preparing to restart that open table I wrote about in 2022. This means introducing more people to RPGs — friends, coworkers, acquaintances, etc. — and that means overcoming barriers that make roleplaying seem harder than it is.

One thing I’ve stopped doing (for the most part) is speaking in character. I don’t enjoy it, I’m not good at it, and it wastes everyone’s time if I’m fumbling around looking for the exact right way to phrase my argument. I’m not an actor, I don’t like roleplaying-as-improv-performance.

Instead, I just describe how my character approaches a social situation — “yeah, he wants to appeal to the king’s sense of duty to his people. He’s being extremely polite and formal with his language, and he’s using plenty of flattery.”

There we go. That communicates everything I wanted to get across, without getting bogged down in word choice or tone or what-have-you. It also highlights the decisions inherent to a negotiation. I need to find the right way to approach this conversation, using the information I have available to me, or else I won’t get what I want from this person.

I’m far from the first person to come up with this idea, but it’s completely changed how I approach roleplaying games. Personally, it’s a lot less stressful for me both as a player and as a referee.

A corollary is that I’m increasingly in favor of ditching social stats. I tried this in the short campaign I ran last year, and I thought it worked really well. In this conception, being persuasive isn’t about being generally charismatic or getting lucky with the dice — it’s more about finding the right angle for an argument using the available information. If I know this non-player character is greedy, I should make it profitable for them to do what I want. If this other NPC cares about their deity, I should appeal to their faith somehow when making my case.

The way I see it, a conversation is a puzzle, and that’s something better left to players than their characters. They don’t need to put on a performance, they just need to solve the puzzle.

April 10, 2024 GM Advice Player Advice

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