Why NPC Motivations Matter

 

Now you are cursed with knowledge, as I am. She sees you. She looks into your very soul.

I'm going to deliver the promise of this article right here, right now. NPC motivations matter because...

If you know why someone does something, you know much more about them than just their outward behaviour. You know how they would view the players, how they would interact with the players, you know what their values are, and how to leverage those values to create memorable companions and unforgettable villains.

This article is all about exploring the why.

 If you know a character's reasons for doing something, you know how they might change if they get what they want, or if they don't. If you plan on keeping a recurring NPC around for a while, this could be really valuable for you.

 

Alignment And Epistemology Part 2, The Eight-Year Boogaloo

If you know, you know.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about people recently. It's made me realise that I don't really understand them at all. I'm not a natural empath. It's okay, I've made peace with it. I'm trying to improve in that respect, but I struggle to genuinely put myself in the shoes of another person and think of things from their psychological perspective. Sure, I can imagine what I'd do in a situation, how something might make me feel, but I'm always too influenced by my own biases and ways of thinking to imagine how another person might process thought and arrive at a different conclusion to me. I mean, perhaps that's pretty normal and there's nothing particularly strange about it, but I worry that it makes me some kind of alien who can't relate to humans very well.

 To solve this issue, instead of doing years of deep introspection and psychological work, I can just rely on a framework of personality that someone else came up with that will help me to explain why other people do the weird things that they do.

 I wrote a bit a long time ago about alignment in D&D and how it wasn't a great system for representing interesting, nuanced characters. (I called that piece part 1, so I guess this is part 2, nearly 8 years later.) Alignment can work, but it doesn't do much for motivation, only for outward personality. Traditional alignment is more about the what than the why of an NPC's actions, and these days I'd argue that knowing the reason is more important. If you want interesting NPCs, knowing why they act is more useful than knowing specifically what they would do in a given scenario. Like, if you ask a Lawful Good character why they did something, they'd probably say 'because it's right' whereas a Chaotic Good character would do something different in the same situation and still claim 'it's right.' There's no difference in why these characters act, only in what they do.

 If you want your NPCs to be amusing side-characters whom the players see just for a minute or two and then they're gone forever then that's fine too. You don't need to go into this much depth or detail about a toothless beggar or armless goblin merchant. Caricatures are great in the right places, but knowing and understanding a character's core motivations gives a GM a more interesting route to fleshing out their personalities in the first place, especially if they're going to play a more long-term role in the game.

 Not only does knowing a character's core motivation give you ideas about how they'd act, but it also suggests what they wouldn't do, what they might approve of, disapprove of, how they'd go about reaching their goals, and (most importantly) how they'd interact with the players. This can be useful for all kinds of NPCs, from the local village idiot to the gods themselves, including your major antagonists along the way. Plus I really like all that Jungian stuff.

That Jungian Stuff

 An idea that's been doing the rounds on YouTube recently is the Enneagram model of personality. Now, I think a lot of this is unreliable and overly prescriptive as a framework for understanding the complexities of real people, but as LocalScriptMan suggests, this kind of pseudoscience can be pretty useful to writers as models for character development and motivation. His main line is that the Enneagram is useful in writing good characters for stories and screenplays, but I think we can say the same for NPCs in a roleplaying game. They're just people, after all. That's the basis of what I'll be talking about from here.

 At its very most basic level, the Enneagram functions as a model for telling us about our most basal motivations and fears, and a lot of it is just an extrapolation of those fears. But honestly, that's exactly what we're after. When writing characters, this is a really good thing because it helps us to really maintain a through-line by which we understand them. It keeps them consistent.

 Not only that, but the Enneagram suggests quite comprehensively what characters do when they're emotionally healthy, and what they do when their fears get the better of them and they slide into unhealthy patterns of behaviour. You want heroes? Great, use this. You want villains? Great, use this.

The 9 Types 

If you've got time on your hands, you could go and find a book on the Enneagram, or read up online about the basics of each type. You don't need to go into loads of detail learning about a type's wings, their disintegration, or integration with other types unless you want to. Just the basic motivations are enough for our purposes, peppered with a little bit of healthy/unhealthy behaviours.

 

There are plenty of resources out there, but for expediency I'll list the nine types and their basic motivations/fears down below. I'm not an expert so I've copied them from enneagramexplained.com. I've included each type's fears too, but they're basically an inversion of their desires, so there's nothing stupendously enlightening there. Desire is their motivation, and the lack of that exact same desire is their fear. It feels pretty binary and simplistic, but if you think about it, these two things are in fact the same thing. Having/being the thing and not having/being the thing are just two sides of the same coin.

Type 1 Core Desire: Being Good / Being Right
1s want to be right, good, correct, responsible, appropriate, accurate, virtuous, and ethical. They fear being bad, wrong, unethical, immoral, incorrect, inappropriate, and evil.

Type 2 Core Desire: Being Wanted / Being Loved
2s want to be loved, wanted, needed, appreciated, and seen as kind and helpful people. They fear being unloved, unwanted, not needed, not appreciated, and needy.

Type 3 Core Desire: Being Valuable / Being Admired
3s want to be valuable, successful, admired, respected, and praised. They fear being worthless, a failure, not valued, not admired, not successful, and inefficient.

Type 4 Core Desire: Being Authentic / To Find Meaning
4s want to be authentic, uniquely themselves, special, to find their own specific place in this world, to find meaning. They fear being without significance, having no identity, being common, being defective, or flawed.

Type 5 Core Desire: Being Competent / Being Capable
5s want to be competent, capable, knowledgeable, self-sufficient, and well-informed. They fear being incompetent, incapable, unknowledgeable, helpless, ignorant, and invaded.

Type 6 Core Desire: Being Secure / Being Supported
6s want to be secure, safe, protected, have guidance, have support, and reliability. They fear being without support, without guidance, without security, being alone, and being abandoned.

Type 7 Core Desire: Being Satisfied / Being Content
7s want to be satisfied, content, happy, unrestrained, and free. They fear being deprived, trapped in emotional pain, being bored, and limited.

Type 8 Core Desire: Being Independent/ To Protect Themselves
8s want to be self-governed, independent, and they want to be able to protect themselves (and those they care about). They fear being controlled, harmed, powerless, weak, vulnerable, and manipulated.

Type 9 Core Desire: Being at Peace / Being Harmonious
9s want to be at peace, harmonious, connected, untroubled, at ease. They fear being separated, being at a loss with others, conflict, tension, being shut out, and overlooked.

Notice that although most sources tend to give the types their own title to aid in comprehension, I've not done that. This is partly because I don't think the types hold much of use outside their basic motivations, and extrapolating too far from these creates unnecessary stereotypes, as I explain at the end. 

 

Healthy And Unhealthy Behaviours

 Each type in the Enneagram has a detailed progression through 9 different states, ranging from most healthy (1-3), to average (4-6), to unhealthy (7-9). Now, I think these get a bit extreme down at the very unhealthy end, with the descriptions start talking about depression, psychosis, mania, all kinds of mental health talking points that I'm not qualified to delve into. On the upper end, there's a certain amount of self-helpy-woo-woo language about the Enneagram, but the general message is pretty solid. In the more middling ranges, we get some really interesting examples of how the types' desires feed into their decisions.

 For example, a 5's desire for competence and knowledge might compel them to research a topic deeply before getting involved. This could mean that 5s have a wealth of theoretical skills when they apply themselves to something. However, the same instinct can hold them back if they go too far into it, and no matter how much they find out, they may never feel ready to take that initial plunge for fear of getting something wrong. They hesitate, retreat into their own minds, and withdraw from the world. But it still all comes down to why. The 5 researches because they want to be seen as competent, as being 'good at' something or being 'right.' They hesitate because they don't want people to think they're incompetent or bad. Small conceptual problems balloon into insurmountable obstacles. 

 On the surface, the 5's motivations seem similar to a 3, but they're not the same. You might think a 3 would want to undertake something for a similar reason (being recognised as the best or receiving praise and accolades isn't so far from people thinking you're skilled or competent), but on the negative side of the spectrum, these desires play out differently. A 5 desires skill and mastery for its own sake, whereas a 3 wants skill to win, to beat other people. While an unhealthy 5 might withdraw and study intensely in order to prepare for something, an unhealthy 3 might attempt to deceive others or even cheat to get what they're after.

 After a bit of reading, I think what it comes down to is that, when a type is healthy, they can look beyond the need to acquire the thing they want, and use their acquired methods and skills to benefit themselves and those around them. When a type is average, they're trying their best to acquire what they need, and sometimes their fears get in the way of that, or they fail to see how their actions affect others. And when a type is unhealthy, they pursue their need and insulate themselves against their fears regardless of the impact their actions have on others or themselves; they lash out, they withdraw, they delude themselves, and so on. 

 Crucially, the types can move between these states when things get better or worse for them, giving your NPCs believable arcs in terms of how they relate to the characters. Do the PCs help out an NPC with something they need? Great, you can make them a more healthy version of themselves. Do the PCs hinder or oppose the NPC in some way? Make them act in a more unhealthy way to simulate their descent into villainy!

 I was going to write some examples of NPCs as proof of concept, but I think I'll leave that for another post in the future. This one is already long enough.

Problems

 It's not a perfect model. One thing a lot of Enneagram sources do is to apply particular stereotypes over the top of the basic fears and motivations. This is kind of unhelpful because it narrows the envelope for each type and makes them less widely applicable. For example, positioning type 4 as the 'artist' implies that all 4s are artistic, other types aren't, and that all artists are type 4. The same goes for type 5s and the 'scientist' label, or type 8s and being the 'leader.' 

 In some ways it does seem to fit intuitively that certain types might gravitate towards particular jobs, interests, or roles, but it's not useful when we're trying to distil a character to their most basic function. We're using this to find the 'why' rather than the 'what' of a character's actions. An artist can be motivated to do art by the desire for recognition and fame (being the best, type 3) just as easily as they can by the need for self expression (type 4) or to demonstrate mastery of a particular medium (type 5). Some might even just want to try making art because their friends are into it (type 6) or they're curious and fancy a new hobby (type 7). In my (limited and relatively uninformed) opinion, the Enneagram has nothing to do with whether a person is actually good at something, and everything to do with why they might decide to try it in the first place.

 Lastly, this model is great as an emergent way of creating interesting characters, but reverse-engineering it is a little more difficult. For example if you want to create an NPC to do a specific thing or to exist for the players as a particular kind of character (like, I really want this character to get in their way and prevent them from achieving their goal through, like, a meddlesome bureaucracy or something) then you might have a bit more legwork to do in terms of figuring out that character's motivations. It can be done, but it's harder to justify or reconcile everything in reverse. 

 This has implications for railroading adventures versus letting them unfold naturally as you and your players discover it. Not that railroading is always bad, but retroactively applying this model to a story that exists or that you want to exist is harder than letting the story unfold through the interactions of NPCs with the player characters.

 If anyone has used this model in the past to create interesting NPCs, or even their own player characters, write it down in the comments below. I'd be fascinated to hear how this model has helped bring more interesting characters to the table. Or perhaps you disagree completely with my opinions; in which case, come and discuss it!

Peace

p.s. The Lisa Simpson thing was a weird way to introduce the article because she has nothing to do with creating interesting NPCs, but I'm convinced of a Lisa Simpson/Enneagram conspiracy. As a type 1, Lisa attempts to right the world's wrongs and align everything with her idealistic morals whilst maintaining her self-image as an upstanding and righteous person. I'd argue that the Enneagram itself is another type 1's attempt to do the same. Is there a link between the Enneagram and Lisa Simpson's visual design? I doubt we'll ever know for sure, but there could be.

 

Bibliography

Riso, D.R. and Hudson, R., 1996. Personality types: Using the Enneagram for self-discovery. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Link on Google Books.

Magical Consciousness: A Variant Rule For Spellcasters

Subtitle: The Firmament Is Within

Sub-Subtitle: How To Be In Two Places At Once

 

The Flammarion Engraving, from Camille Flammarion's 1888 book L'atmosphère : météorologie populaire

 I had this idea a long time ago, and thought I'd write it up. I've imagined the rules as compatible with D&D, but it would probably work quite well with another d20 system, or any game with ability scores and spells. The idea is to allow spellcasters to have a more interesting experience of using and interacting with magic, rather than just, 'Hey I cast a spell,' in the same way a swordsman might swing their blade. Dabbling in the unseen arts comes with a host of corrolary effects far deeper than a mere callused sword hand.

 

 Using the state of magical consciousness, a spellcaster sees through the veil, across the firmament that separates us from the transmundane, the barrier between sacred and the profane. In Jungian archetypes, the magician goes places that others do not. The magician makes journeys and brings back knowledge otherwise inaccessible to others.

 

 A spellcaster using this ability would immediately be able to identify another spellcaster. Magic knows magic. Depending on their individual abilities, they might give off an aura or have some kind of additional ... things. A wizard might be surrounded by wisps of luminous, mucus-like ectoplasm, hanging in the air and trailing them like a comet. They might be radiating ethereal tentacles, crowned in pale flames, or have vines writhing beneath their skin. It's up to the caster to determine how it manifests for themselves. Only spellcasters in this magical state would be able to see it, though.

There are all kind of interesting implications for this state. Would a spellcaster be able to see across the planes? Interact with the ethereal, the shadow? Would they be able to see invisible creatures? They might realise that the idea of being 'alone' isnt quite what they thought. How would ordinary spells manifest? A magically locked chest might appear normal to everyone else, but to a wizard it might be swathed in ethereal chains or held shut by a demonic guardian.

This post is mainly inspired by the kind of weirdness that spellcasters bring to a game. Spells and magic are inherently otherworldly, and I think that the game should reflect that. You're using forces that you can't ordinarily see using rules that you probably don't fully understand, and there are a lot of things peripheral to the everyday use of magic that should be ... largely ignored, if only for the sake of one's own peace of mind. Don't focus on the host of spirits leering over your shoulder from across the veil. They can't get you if you don't do anything stupid, so it's best just not to think about it. Unless you want to. Unless you're that kind of curious-slash-deranged.

By Natesquatch on Deviantart

 

The Rules

 Beginning at first, level, spellcasters designate a passive spell that they know—one for detection, comprehension, or communication (for example, a wizard might choose Detect Magic, a druid might choose Speak With Animals). After concentrating for an hour, the spellcaster may enter their state of magical consciousness. In this state, their chosen spell is continuous and does not require concentration to maintain. This rule reflects the state of the spellcaster when they are attuned to the magic in their surroundings, able to perceive and tap into this world, manifesting it in a way that makes sense to their spellcasting class.

 

Spend too long in this state, and people will start to think you've a screw loose.
A druid might stop participating in the civilised world altogether, preferring to vibe with the squirrels. They're fun, I guess. But don't they always look like they're up to something?

 

 But to reflect the difficulty of maintaining this state and the toll it takes on the psyche, the caster takes 1d4 Wisdom, Charisma, or Intellegence damage (caster chooses and has to stick with their choice) when entering the state, as the cognitive dissonance of maintaining two different modes of being affects their ability to perceive their surroundings, use their reason, or relate to other people. They become more distant or alien the longer they maintain their state, taking a further 1d4 ability damage for each day (or hour if you're feeling mean) they remain in the state of magical consiousness. Ability damage sustained in this way may be healed only after they end their state, for which the player must spend an hour in concentration. They have to come back, but that's a journey in itself.

 

 As a character sustains ability damage, the effects of their magical consciousness become narratively more intense and difficult to deal with. A character with low Wisdom becomes unable to distinguish between the internal and external worlds, between magic and reality. A character with low Charisma would lose the ability to articulate words coherently. A character with low intelligence loses their sense of self and agency, becoming an unthinking vessel.

The Ice King's crazy wizard eyes may or may not have inspired this entire post.

I think this rule could work well in a game where spellcasters were the mainstay of the party. Or one in which a mystery needed solving, specifically a mystery of a magical kind. What could be really interesting is if you decide that spellcaster must be in this state to cast any spell which is of higher level than a cantrip. That would make things interesting. Hmmm...

I think Adventure Time is perfect for illustrating the kind of wacky shit wizards might see if they look too hard for too long. Its art direction is kind of genius and it's been living in my head since 2011.

 

Seriously.

 

That's all for now.

Shhhh, go to sleep.

#Dungeon23

A nice #dungeon23 graphic from Rise Up Comus right here on blogspot

 A new TTRPG craze is sweeping the twitterverse, and I decided to throw my lot in and have a go. I'll post weekly updates here to consolidate my work and begin drawing it all together into a more cohesive reading experience. Twitter's bitty; I prefer a longer read. Also, with the daily nature of the work, I'll want to tweak and revise bits as I go along.

 So what is #dungeon23?

 First suggested (I think) in early December 2022 by Sean McCoy on Twitter, #dungeon23 is a challenge which entails writing a single dungeon room per day for the whole year, with the idea to create a 365-room megadungeon by the end. But there are no hard-and-fast rules about the challenge. Do a dungeon, a city, a world, a hexcrawl. No pressure to create beautifully crafted, print-ready play experiences. Keep it scrappy and rough. The point is to just do it. Just one room per day. Simple, neat, and a great way to encourage a new creative habit. I love the idea, so I'm going to give it my best shot. I think this will help me to curb my habit of making everything too big right from the beginning so that I start feeling a lot of pressure to keep up the bigness of it all, something that often makes me feel disillusioned or daunted by the projects I begin. I've even started my own page on the blue bird website so that I can join in with all the talented people on there and pretend that's where I belong too.

 There are loads of resources out there to help generate dungeons, loads of really excellent tools to draw isometric maps and whatnot, but I think I'd like to keep it simple and just use my own imagination and my own writing/drawing. Like so:

 

I didn't even finish this dungeon properly- it was just a bit of practice on new year's eve before starting the challenge the next day. It was fun though. It helped me to get some ideas down that I'd just had clogging my head for a while. And I managed to try a few new drawing tips from Map Crow on YouTube- one of my recent favourite channels.

 
To get myself started, I just grabbed this list of weekly prompts and started with number 1:

 I don't know if I'm going to make a single megadungeon, or a series of smaller dungeons. Perhaps they'll be connected- a series of adventures leading from one to the next. So far, all I've done is a page or two of practice, one 'room' and a sketch of the next one. I have a vague idea of where it might go, but that's it. I'm going to take it one step at a time and see how it evolves over time. Here's what I've got so far:

It's not even a whole page of writing. Not even a room, strictly speaking. Just an old piece of paper, a hook to draw players to the dungeon in the first place. We'll see where it leads...

Peace,

O

AI Art: What I Think

 

One of these images was generated by Midjourney's version 4 technology and, while visually impressive in and of itself, has essentially no value whatsoever compared to the other three. But there's more to it than that.

 So-called AI art ... is it good? bad? is it even art? Perhaps it's the next big thing, or perhaps it's just theft.

 Either way, if you're using it to make money right now, were I you, I'd be really, really careful.

 Yes, yes, I admit I've dabbled. It's interesting, actually kind of fascinating, and it's fun to mess around with. For me, it's an intriguing way to brainstorm and noodle around with ideas which are rattling in my head. Whether you like it or not, using artificial intelligence to create imagery, writing, and music is erupting onto our cultural landscape like a volcano, but is it a Vesuvius or a Mauna Loa? Is there a pyroclastic flow barrelling towards the art industry, ready to bury it in a choking avalanche of molten rock and ash, or will this technology help artists to create a Hawaiian paradise? To cut a long story short, I think the way in which many people are using this new technology at the moment is at best misguided, even disingenuous, and at worst downright immoral. We could intellectualise as much as we want about AI art's merits, or lack thereof, but ultimately I think there's quite a simple explanation. Let me explain:

 It's trendy to say that we live in a world shaded with grey ambiguities and murky moral conundra which cannot be easily solved. However, that is not an excuse for us to avoid the attempt at an answer. Simply shrugging our shoulders and hoping that other forces will resolve the issue in a way that is favourable is utterly naïve. We have to think extremely carefully about how any new technology will affect our lives, and even more carefully about the legalities of using it. Just because there is no legislation against using something in a particular way, doesn't mean it's free from ethical concerns. Often, the law just hasn't caught up yet.

 As far as my research has informed me, current AI image generation software works by taking target images and applied labels or tags to create new images by 'diffusing' the original images by combining it with successive layers of gaussian noise until they're just fuzz. A pattern of diffusion from concrete pixellated image to random noise is thus created. The AI then reverse-diffuses gaussian noise based on a modifiable string of inputs (or prompts, as they're commonly known) based on the tags applied to original images to create something new, but the details of which are based on the reverse of the diffusion pattern it established earlier. I assume that most contemporary AI image generation software works in a similar way. The software doesn't literally cut and paste bits of existing artwork into a new image. It does something infinitely more sophisticated- it tries to establish more general rules which conform to the patterns in 'an oil painting' or 'a painting in the style of Rembrandt' for example. This is me trying to make sense of the model in my own words. I'm not a software engineer and I know almost nothing about machine learning, so please, if you have a more nuanced understanding, join the conversation.

 

To see a world in a grain of sand, or in this case a random collection of pixels...

 

 Technicalities aside, the crux of the matter stems from the developers of the software training their AI systems using content that exists on the internet. This seems like a very neat and tidy way of sourcing practically limitless material, but the really big problem comes when you realise that a lot of this stuff actually belongs to people--living people who depend on it for their livelihood and their career--and is not free for general use. Online portfolios where artists display their work can be exploited like this all too easily, especially when the source material for the generated images can't be traced back with a reverse image search. In my opinion, it's theft of intellectual property, and without the owners of the original images giving consent for their material to be used, I don't think it can be argued that it isn't theft, especially when people are using these generated images for commercial purposes. Furthermore, there's currently no way to give credit to artists whose work has been used to train the AI, because the systems are trained on so many images that it simply isn't possible to pin down which specific ones have been used for any given image (unless you're like this guy who shamelessly created AI knockoffs of a recently deceased artist's work and tried to claim they were the result of his own hard work). That way lies a whole lot of awful. Using the technology in this way, it's possible to imagine a world where industry leaders in media, films, games, TV, dispense with their artists entirely, only to steal their work and train an AI to reproduce similar pieces without having to pay the artists a single penny. If we take this to an extreme, you could see a future in which large bodies, corporations, those with the resources to pour into legal teams, harvest the internet looking for images to train their AIs on, and then create images, even entire films (it can already be done, albeit shakily for now) which they then protect behind iron-shod copyright. Small artists lose out and the massive corporations make even more money because they don't have to even employ artists any more. Using AI image generation in this way would destroy the art industry as it currently is, put thousands of people out of work, and devalue their skills in a very real way. And I don't think the argument that AI isn't good enough to do that holds any water at all in the long run. All it requires is the addendum of a perspicacious 'yet'. The tech only ever gets better, especially when there's money to be made.

 Because I am slow, I started writing this article in early November when an artist friend of mine urged me to think more carefully about my use of Midjourney for creating images to illustrate my last few articles. Honestly, I hadn't given it all that much thought before that moment. I thought it was cool, it was fun, and I could create bespoke pictures to make my writing less boring to wade through. However, in the last couple of days, almost as if to prove my point, I've become aware of a recent class action lawsuit that has been filed, citing violation of copyright and no attribution for creators. The lawsuit pertains to an AI trained to write code, but it looks likely that it will set a pretty groundbreaking precedent for the future of AI and machine learning.

 In my view, there is one more core argument against wholeheartedly supporting AI generated imagery in the art industry, similar to an argument in economics. On Twitter recently, I read a very interesting thread about how using AI to create art can be likened in quite a convincing way to the Grossman-Stiglitz financial paradox. In this model, it is assumed that in order to be the most efficient with one's investment, one should only invest in index funds, because they are the most reliable, easiest, and cheapest way to make returns on investment. They are a nice passive way to make money in the long term. You don't really have to know about the markets, or buy and sell your own stocks. In addition, in a perfectly efficient model, no one would ever want to conduct research into the accuracy of the market's movements, whether it was performing well, whether indexes are correctly priced, and so on, because this gives no trading advantage. Just invest in the index funds and you're fine. In this twitter thread, original market research is likened to human artists producing work--there is labour involved, it is more costly, and confers no inherent advantage. However, the index funds depend on original research to function correctly. If no one produced this work, if no one did the actual labour of creating it, there would be nothing to suggest that these index funds have worth, that the values which index fund models show are reflective of the real conditions of the market. Similarly, it is only because of human artists that AI image generation has any ability to imitate human art. If we look at the art industry from an economic perspective (and I argue that doing so is both helpful and necessary) it's a kind of parasitic way of producing cheap art. And in terms of longevity, further down the line, if everyone decided that AI art was the way to go and they stopped manually producing art altogether, we would end up training AI models to produce art by using AI-generated art. It's a spiral which only goes down.

Some Peripheral Points

 I do think that there are some good things about this technology. I think in many ways, it could make the art industry a more accessible place, it could help artists generate ideas, brainstorm, and iterate their work, ultimately being good for productivity and imagination. I know I've found it very useful to help me solidify certain ideas which have been floating around in my head rather vaguely. And I think I still will use it personally, but I can't imagine ever using it commercially. It feels wrong to do that.

 Plus, it's really interesting. I think the argument over whether AI generated imagery counts as art is really, really large, and not something I want to get into now. We could talk about Dada and Marcel Duchamp's LHOOQ, or his found pieces. We could talk about Damien Hirst and how he doesn't actually make any of his own art, he just employs others to make it for him. We could talk about how AI art could really empower people with disabilities to become creators in ways they never could have been before. We could talk about intentionality, the Chinese Room, the Turing test. We could talk about intrinsic and extrinsic value, about different types of abstraction. We could talk about a piece's cultural history, its place in time and society, the sociological value of human-created art vs. the mere simulacrum, the outward appearance which a computer creates. There are too many angles, too many ways to argue for and against. My main point is about the ethics of using it in particular ways, and I think I've said my piece.

 

That's all for now,

O

 If you're interested in reading more on this, see below for what I think are some interesting bits within the cultural milieu. There is some really interesting stuff out there. Much more interesting than mine:

Tolstoy, What Is Art? 

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/64908/64908-h/64908-h.htm 

Erik Hoel on Substack, AI Art Isn't Art

https://erikhoel.substack.com/p/ai-art-isnt-art?s=r

 

Artists Hardy Fowler and Adam Duff discuss AI art

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w43_WxH3tU

 

Adam Duff suggests why AI art is theft of identity

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4Fzqvx1jxI

 

Daniel Cooper from Endgadget talks about the legal problems of copyright and AI

https://www.engadget.com/dall-e-generative-ai-tracking-data-privacy-160034656.html

 

A general look at some of the artists of twitter and their stance on the issue

https://twitter.com/Thuminnoo/status/1580311826352738304

 

Stijn Windig on ArtStation talks about how he uses AI in his art, along with cone pros and cons

https://www.artstation.com/blogs/stijn/B276/ai-sketches-with-vqgan-and-clip-for-concept-art

 

Will Knight from Wired magazine weighs in with a more positive outlook

https://www.wired.com/story/when-ai-makes-art/

 

How AI art is making significant waves in online content creator communities

https://www.dexerto.com/entertainment/ai-art-vtubers-unclear-ethics-worry-artists-1952140/

 

Esther Ajao from Tech Target mentions how Greg Rutkowski (probably one of the most-used image prompt names) is deeply concerned about AI art

https://www.techtarget.com/searchenterpriseai/feature/The-creative-thief-AI-tools-creating-generated-art

Bestiary VI: Silent Shadow

Illustration by author

 I wrote recently about the Court of Shadows, that amorphous sentient mass of dead souls which inhabits the dark and forgotten places of the Silent City. I also alluded to what might happen were one of these long-dead shadows to contract the unquiet sickness, to succumb to the mad hunger that plagues the dead.

I thought about how I'd create a creature which is significantly different from D&D's Shadow, whilst maintaining some of the core themes that make it what it is. Well, here's my offering:

 In some places, people raise their houses onto staddle stones to ward away vermin and damp. In other places, these stones are to keep out the shadows that creep along the floor in the gloom, to keep them from slithering into people's beds and taking their soul.

 A growth on your own shadow, an umbral tumour which attaches itself to you in the dark. This thing is a parasite. You can't fight it in the normal way. Blades and arrows pass through air and chip off stone. Watch for shadows that do not match the objects that cast them. You might see it peeping from the margins of a doorway or the shadow of a wall, staring at you with its hollow hungry eyes. If it gets within reach, it infects you. It hides inside your shadow and slowly feeds on you until you are too weak to resist it. When the shadow reaches this point, it creeps out of your shadow and, as a tarantula stalks a grasshopper, slowly, so slowly, it grows to loom over you. Then it devours you entirely.

 Ordinarily, these desolate creatures live quiet, solitary lives. Shunned from the collective of the Shadow Courts, they waft and slide aimlessly through angular ruins and deeply shaded woods. Their minds begin to turn in on themselves and they crave the warmth of a living creature. In desperation, they try to feed on wildlife, but it is not enough. A withered animal carcass could be a sure sign that a shadow stalks nearby, and that it is starving for a more substantial meal. Even merely approaching the sorry husk is probably an extremely bad idea.

 But how does a shadow infect the living? It hides, ready to ambush passers by. Any shadow large enough to cover a human can hide one of these monsters- the long shadow cast by a tree trunk, a lamp post, or the lee of a rock in the lengthening evening. Or perhaps it hides beneath the shadow of its last victim. Or even hiding in plain sight- an unnoticed, still and silent shadow cast by nothing. In any case, all the creature needs to do is reach out and touch your shadow, and it latches on. If the victim notices (a perception check vs. the shadow's stealth or something similar), they see a stick-like hand reaching out from a nearby shadow, but nothing casts it. The hand reaches along slowly towards the victim's own shadow. Perhaps an initiative check means the victim can avoid the shadow entirely, but if the victim doesn't know the shadow is there, a successful touch attack is enough.

 Imagine it is you who is infected by this creature. To begin with, you would feel nothing, except perhaps a creeping feeling of being watched, of never quite being alone. If you turned fast enough to get a glimpse, you might see it disappearing behind your shadow. Then, when you lay down to sleep, in the dark, in the pitch-blackness of an enclosed room, the creature inches from beneath you. Its head, featureless except for its two round eyes, emerges slowly, fixed on its prey. On you. Its hands, long and slender and sharp, enfold the contours of your neck and your shoulders in a chilly embrace. Anyone awake to witness the shadow's feeding will hear a quiet whispering as it soothes you to keep you in the arms of sleep, and a gentle lapping sound as it sips of your body's strength. In the morning, you must make a save or lose 1D4 (or 1D6 if the DM is feeling evil) points of strength. You awaken feeling exhausted, drained. You cannot gain these points back by resting if you are still infected by the Silent Shadow.

 Perhaps in the following days, your shadow begins to look increasingly ... different, somehow. Its limbs are slightly longer, its body is misshapen and lumpy. It lags slightly behind your own movements. If no one has noticed yet, this might be a good way to diagnose the infection. The longer it goes on and the more strength the victim loses, the more pronounced this effect becomes. The nightly feedings may also be making the creature itself stronger, with the shadow retaining the strength it drains from its victims, if you as a DM are imagining a final confrontation of sorts.

 But how do you rid yourself of this parasite? Perhaps while it is hiding in someone's shadow, it cannot be targeted by spells, or it makes saves against them with advantage. Or, even better, it can deflect spells and effects from itself onto its victim. Once it has drained some of its victim's strength, a bond is formed whereby the Shadow is protected from harmful effects. A Cure Disease or Remove Curse spell may break this bond, but it will not rid the host of its parasite. It will still be there, hiding. Perhaps if you are running D&D and you have a cleric handy, Turn Undead might suffice. But you'd have to decide how many hit dice the thing had and whether the effect would be strong enough to deter this mad horror.

 No, I think to remove it entirely, you must be more clever than that. The observant adventurer may notice (or you as DM may wish to tell them) that this creature is not simply an invisible spirit casting a shadow. It is the shadow. And as such, it can only move across surfaces on which shadows can be cast. It cannot jump into the air. It cannot cross from one side of a chasm to the other except if it goes down to the bottom first. So, in order to separate host from parasite, you must find a way to separate the victim from their own shadow. There is no other way to permanently and forcibly remove this skin-crawling leech.

 This could be done by means of magical intervention, of course. And what of effects like Invisibility which strips the subject of their shadow? Would the shadow be suddenly bereft of its hiding place, writhing on the floor like an insect on an overturned rock? Magic aside, there are simpler ways. Perhaps an arrangement of torches and a leap into the air, or a step onto a raised platform at midday might do the trick. Anything which causes a person's shadow to lose contact with their body and not return would work. Once the bond is broken and the shadow is separated from its host, exposed, it is vulnerable to damage from magical weapons and magic damage itself, especially radiant damage.

 It might be at this point that you want to use the stats for a Shadow from the Monster Manual and have an old-fashioned fight, but it might not. You might want to describe the shadow giving a hoarse, reedy cry and fleeing across the ground, never quite letting the players think it is gone for good...

That's all for now, folks. Thanks for reading, I hope you found it interesting.

Peace,

O

Eight Schools for Wizards

 

 (edit 12/03/2024: I used AI to make the images in this article before I realised how morally bankrupt the whole thing was. I'm not going to delete them but I am going to point out that the generative AI industry isn't far from a form of modern slavery. It's hollow and awful. Stealing work from artists and using that stolen work to train an algorithm is short-sighted, foolish, and basically evil.)

The Eight Schools of Magic

 As a trained educator, I am somewhat aware that there are many different styles of learning. What I mean by this is not what people often think of - it is not a simple case of 'I am a visual learner,' or 'I am an auditory learner.' Of course, some people prefer to learn through reading, others through observation, and others through doing, but it is more than that.

What if each school of magic (Illusion, Evocation, Enchantment, Necromancy, Abjuration, Divination, Transmutation, and Conjuration) had its own unique and learning-style inspired establishment through which wizards learnt their craft? I think it could be really interesting to think about what kind of learning style is suggested by each school of magic, and create something accordingly. The different schools approach training and education in different ways. They have different ways of seeing based on the conceptual lenses they look through.

 

To help us along, I've thought of several learning styles which I'd like to slot into various places:

Reflection: Learning done by looking inwards and reflecting on one's self, achievements, and decisions. The kind of progress a person can make through meditation is a good example of this kind of learning.

Trial and Error: Learning done by trying things out practically rather than theoretically. Sometimes this is called kinesthetic learning, but it's basically just learning through getting your hands dirty. It can be likened to practising a musical instrument or learning to dance.

Talk: Learning through debate, through talk and conversation. Communicating and talking through ideas can massively facilitate the learning process.

Experience: Informal learning done simply through living and accumulating knowledge and experiences.

Autodidactism: Actively teaching oneself without having a programme of education or a selected teacher.

Skills-based learning: A formal curriculum which focuses on teaching transferrable skills which can be applied in various contexts

Knowledge-based learning: A formal curriculum focused on imparting large amounts of subject-specific knowledge

Rote: Learning done by simply memorising and repeating information

 

Now, I know this isn't the neatest list, conceptually speaking. There is a lot of overlap between some of these categories. They interweave, they cooperate and complement each other, and I haven't covered all my bases in terms of setting up opposing styles of learning on opposite sides of the ideological and magical spectrum, but I did have a look at the most powerful spells and conclude on some big and important themes for each school based on those. For example, the most powerful Transmutation spell is Time Stop, so I thought, 'Hey let's give the Transmutation school some cool time-based thing,' and so on. But again, I haven't done that across the board. I've just done what I thought would be interesting, trying to keep each school unique in its flavour while avoiding anything too close to everyone's favourite (for some reason) TERF-wizard-bin-fire.

 

I think it is important to note that these are not schools of which the public is generally aware. They are difficult to find and difficult to get into. They must be looked for by those who are willing to seek them, and those who have the skill to do so. The location of these places are a closely guarded secret, for obvious reasons. We know what happens to the quality and direction research if too much state or industry funding gets in. Agendas all over the place.

And so, here are eight new locations which players can visit or originate from. I have plans to write eight new arcane traditions for Wizards too, and a boatload of new cantrips. I love cantrips.

The Warren School - Illusion - Introspection and Reflection

 

The Warren. A series of natural caverns and caves beneath the earth. A school in which no light, natural or artificial, is permitted. Only the radiance of magic itself may light the rough-hewn walls of the Warren. The mages of this school value the knowledge one can gain through introspection, self-reflection, and meditation. They are trained to see magic as light itself.

Cantrips of the school: 

Lightscribe- The wizard uses their finger as a writing implement, leaving a luminous script on whatever surface they touch. They may choose whether this script is visible with the naked eye, or whether it may only be seen with a Detect Magic spell. The script may last on a surface for up to one week- the duration is chosen by the caster at the time of casting. It may also be dismissed by the caster whevener they choose before this duration elapses. At higher levels, the wizard may choose to extend the duration by a further week or even to make it permanent.

Seeing- Mages from the Warren are able to see the flow of magic with only a moment's concentration. They may detect whether magic has been used in this area up to 24 hours previously, or whether there is a current magical item or spell in effect. They percieve the magic as luminous tenrdils emanating from an object, or weaving around a space like the threads of a tapestry. At higher levels, they may discern the school of magic used to create the effect. At higher levels still, they may be able to tell which specific spell was cast in the area. 

 

The Brass Halls - Evocation - Trial and Error - Practical and Kinesthetic Learning

Arcades and vaulted chambers built into the side of a high cliff. Entire rooms lined with metal, with shining brass, engraved with a library's worth of spells and hundreds of years' worth of knowledge. Paper doesn't tend to do so well in a school of Evocation. The students here learn through working directly with magic, with the elements that they aspire to control, and by engaging each other's skills in duels and gestalt invocations.

Mages of this school are adept at working with different elements, and can switch between them easily. They can also work in tandem with other mages to augment and amplify their spells.

 

The Grey Charter - Enchantment - Talk and Debate

 Every spell ever created is contained within its walls, along with extensive magical theory on each one, but there are none to be cast. Nothing so vulgar as the frivolous and wasteful use of magic that is casting mere spells happens in this school. Inside the quiet confines of the Grey Charter, there is only talk - endless debate about the Great Work itself - about which magics are the most worthy, which ones are the most valuable. It is a mage's duty and privilege to learn and learn, until they can create the single most wonderful, beautiful, necessary piece of magic they possibly can. After that, they are spent and must retire to the position of emeritus to once more debate and talk with their fellows, to encourage future mages in their task. Many spend the rest of their lives writing their thesis, their Great Work on the magic they created, in the hopes that it will spur generations of future mages on to ever greater things. The school follows a model of social, dialectical scholarship, a collective of close comradeship.

The Itinerant School - Necromancy - The School of Life

This school has no buildings, no hallowed halls to call its own. This school is not bricks and mortar. This school is the flesh and bones of its followers, their aching feet and their cold fingers. It is in the hospitality of the common folk, and in their wisdom, too. Knowledge is inscribed upon the skin and stitched into rags - the knowledge contained in bones and in forgotten folk. The Itinerant scholars are keepers of forgotten knowledge, guardians of precious treasures gained from experience itself. They are scholars of the school of life, their knowledge gained from the world around them, their wisdom sought from the collective thoughts and memories of ages past.

The Poor School - Abjuration - Self-Directed Learning

 A sanctuary for the needy, a place for those with nowhere else to go. It is a safehouse, hidden except from those who require it. The school is run by a cat. Sometimes it talks, and sometimes it is just a cat. No one knows if this is intentional. If questioned, the principal offers some vague paw-waving or deflects with its own question. The corridors are narrow, lined with books, and lead to lofty reading spaces with softly sunlit windows. The place is warm, wooden, and welcoming.

 Self-determined curriculum. A collaborate student-teacher model. The teachers will work with students to create a body of knowledge to fit the student's talents and interests.

Sealight Tower - Divination - Seeing From Different Perspectives

 

 The mages of the Sealight Tower study the patterns of the multiverse to hone their skills of prediction and foresight. The tower is a metaphysical fulcrum- an armillary lynchpin around which the dimensions of the multiverse are pulled into alignment. From the spiral of its infinite stair, many rooms with many windows open to many places, all of which offer different perspectives on the stars of the known worlds. The school advocates a skills-based curriculum, seeing patterns wherever you look.

The Serpentine Gates - Transmutation - Tradition and Rigour

Mired in the past, cut off from the world. It is its own universe. At the entrance to this school, a great metal gate stands, entwined with serpents weaving over and under each other. Upon walking through this gate, the student enters a realm where the boundaries between different times may be traversed as easily as walking between two rooms. Doorways in the School of the Serpentine Gates lead to yesterday, or to last year, or to last century, and in walking through gates in a particular order, one may find themselves transported to a desired date. Students often carry with them long lists of directions, reams of paper scribbled with which turn to take and which door to go through (this also helps them to find their way back). They may even wish to see the world of the past outside the school, and would be free to do so if they wished. The catch is that a student may never travel forwards from their time of entry, and once a student leaves the Serpentine Gates, they exit their original continuum. The well of potentiality through which they delved becomes once again a shallow puddle. Once this is done, they may never find their way back to their original place or time. There are some who never leave. They wander through the halls and the twisting paths of the Serpentine Gates for the whole span of their lives, learning forever. They become entwined with the place and never return home. 

 Curriculum-based learning, a focus on knowledge, stricture, rigour, and tradition. Influential figures of the past are venerated. Great wizards give lectures, and students come from near and far (both spatially and temporally) to watch them.

The Whispering Wall - Conjuration - Rote and Recitation

Scrolls upon scrolls upon scrolls. All the words uttered in the whole of the cosmos are channeled through the Whispering Wall. They echo off its bricks and seep through its cracks. Students listen intently for wisdom to trickle down to them, their ears pressed hard against the cold stone. Learning is done by rote, words committed to memory. Verses are recited and passed down from one generation of students and teachers to the next. The memorisation and chanting of spell-mantras are commonplace in this school.

 

I think these schools could be an interesting basis to a game or a RPG supplement which focuses on wizards and magic as a core mechanic.

I have a lot more to write on these, but that takes time, so I want to shove it up here for now. I'll take it down again to work on it some more at a later date. It's a fun idea for now.

Peace,

O

Bestiary V: The Court of Shadows

Darkness lies beyond the countless gateways of the Silent City, but there is so much more there than a mere absence of light.

 (edit 12/03/2024: I used AI to make the images in this article before I realised how morally bankrupt the whole thing was. I'm not going to delete them but I am going to point out that the generative AI industry isn't far from a form of modern slavery. It's hollow and awful. Stealing work from artists and using that stolen work to train an algorithm is short-sighted, foolish, and basically evil.)

The Shadow is a rightly feared foe in D&D, but I wanted to create something a little more all-encompassing to reflect the idea that, when the light fades, the dark is all there is.

Thus, the Court of Shadows. It is many things- incorporeal horde, security system, location, even a transit system.

Living Darkness

 People tell stories about the darkness within the walls of the Silent City- the place where the dead lie eternal. Those who have been there - who have walked its hallowed paths and seen its sacred chambers - they say that the dark there is deeper, more profound. It presses down on you like a weight, dimming the flame from your lamp and enfolding your senses. In the deep and forgotten parts of the great tomb city, amongst crumbling stones and inches of cold dust in flickering torchlight, you could almost be convinced that the shadows themselves are alive. Watching.

 You wouldn't be entirely wrong.

 

 

 The Silent City's history stretches far back into the forgotten depths of time. Countless thousands of dead have gone to rest within its walls, and the Court of Shadows is comprised of the very oldest of its denizens- those numberless who have become naught but air. Although the dead may take great pains to preserve their bodies, slathering themselves with pungent medicines, exotic oils and spices, there is nothing that can halt the march of time entirely. Every being succumbs, whether in ten years or ten-thousand. Skin turns to fine paper, crumbling in the breeze. Cold bones become scattered dust. The spirit itches, the mind wanders. Shadows are the remnants of dust left behind after a body finally loses its struggle with the immense weight of time.

 This disembodiment does something strange to the mind and the senses- an unanchored abstraction. Unfathomable depths of shadow exist wherever light does not fall- in the infinitesimal cracks between ancient stones, or in the mountainous immensity under the very earth itself. This is where they make their home, their cities within the city. Shape, size, and even time become meaningless in this new dimension of thought. Affairs of the material world hold little significance. The Shadow Courts are not evil, merely indifferent.

 Except, that is, when the living intrude upon their quietude. The light of the living offends all amongst the dead, and the Shadow Courts most of all.

 

 

 Within the walls of the Silent City, the Shadow Courts have an ancient and powerful mandate: they uphold the antediluvian laws of the Corpse Lords, they decide who stays and who goes. It is to the Shadow Courts that people leave their offerings, their tithe for passage into the city. All the riches both permanent and perishable- gold and the rubies, the beautiful shells of seldom-seen molluscs, edible delicacies from far and wide, baskets of petals, tomes of knowledge, the temporal and spiritual riches of a life lived in pursuit of a single goal- quietude behind the hallowed walls.

 When the dead are brought to the threshold, the Shadow Courts seethe into being. The black mist gathers and forms itself into indistinct, silent figures, sombre as mourners at a graveside. Borne upon palanquin and carried by pallbearer through the great doorways into the tombs, the dead make their way beneath the immense archers, the portals which guard passage into the resting places, into the crypts and catacombs, the monuments and mausolea which comprise the city's most sacred houses of repose. And when they do, the Shadow Courts are there, huddled around the stone columns, gathered beneath the ancient arches and lintels.

 The verdicts that they give are final, and many petitioners (the so-named applicants who wish to be granted entry to the city) find themselves turned away. Despite the assurances of many who wish to profit from these pilgrimages, none can truly know the whims and requirements of the Court of Shadows.

 As the Courts make their inscrutable way through the city's dark and empty streets to observe the offerings of petitioners, a chill wind marks their passing, and the sibilant cacophony of a thousand whispers fills the air. If travellers wander there without permission, they would do well to hide from the cold winds that blow, from the black mist, and from the long, uncast shadows which float across the cobbles. Else, they might quickly find themselves put on trial, and a trial can be difficult against plaintiffs so old that they know every precedent and verdict ever uttered.

 Like their solitary counterparts, the Shadows, the Court can move through any gap through which air can pass. Unlike their solitary counterparts, the Court is able shrink or grow to fill any size of chamber. A coalescence of the Court can be a rapid thing- one moment, interlopers might be roaming through the deep, forgotten corridors and chambers. In these places, light falls softly from far above, through skylights, through layers of dust spinning through the air. It is utterly quiet. And the next moment, shadows slide upwards and obscure everything. The air becomes thick with seething, dark mist. The interlopers find themselves amongst crowds of black-robed figures. Their senses are bombarded by darkness and a chorus of hissing, muttering voices. Amongst the whispers, they hear allegations like:

 Intruder,

 Trespasser,

 Outsider,

 Begone!

 Blinded and deafened, the accused feel themselves being jostled forwards to some unseen place. Those amongst the accused with keen senses in the dark might see aged figures clad in a swirling mass of dusty, decaying finery- the regalia of office which these beings wore in life now projected into their insubstantial forms.

 

~

 Fighting the Court

 You may wonder how it is that a person fights against such a foe. They have no corporeal body, and so cannot be harmed easily by conventional means. Like other incorporeal undead they may be harmed by magic - such as enchanted weapons and magical radiance - but doing so would prove ultimately futile, not to mention dangerous. With the disintegration of their physical bodies comes an equally diminished physical presence. They lack the strength to manipulate the world in the same way as they once could. A solid door and even a bright lamp might be able to keep them at bay for a while. However, then they do get their ghostly hands on their targets, this mass of shadows attacks in a similar way to solitary shadows, draining strength and energy like the cold of the grave itself. Except in this incarnation, they can expand to encompass any size of room. Mechanically, I suppose that could translate to them being any size from, let's say huge all the way to colossal, depending on how big and dark the room is. They can manifest in the open air too, but perhaps in a more limited way- only being able to mimic the shape of a crowd of humanoid figures, a sea of dark robes.

 Even if bested in this way, the Court of Shadows is not truly gone. They will reform in a few short hours, and by the next nightfall they will again be at full strength. The Courts are likely to know the location of the intruders if they remain in the city, and the next time they appear, they may bring with them one of the City's feared Arbiters- a far more corporeal threat (more to come on those another time).

 

 (Note- If you want to make this creature work in D&D, then have a look at the Book of Hordes on GM Binder. I've found it to be basically great for this purpose. But I'd like to give the disclaimer that in this case, a horde enemy isn't merely lazy GMing- the whole point is that this creature is a collective consciousness, something large and amorphous and communal. PLUS when combined with the Arbiter (coming up), the combat encounter could be very nasty indeed. You'll see why. Give the horde 4 attacks and 12 times the hitpoints of a regular shadow, but don't increase their strength (contrary to what the book suggests). Make anyone inside the horde subject to saves to avoid becoming deafened and blinded, and give them the ability to change their size to move through any space and fill any room, and you're basically there.)

 

 

 Encountering the Court of Shadows on their own terms, in accordance with the laws of the Silent City, is more like testing one's powers of persuasion. The accused must prove that they are not trespassing within the walls, and that they have come to the city on legitimate business. This may even be true. Many come to the city on pilgrimage to the tombs of their ancestors, or to leave a prayer and a candle in one of the great halls, and it is all too easy to become lost in its twisting streets, alleys, and corridors.

If this trial goes well for the defendant, the Court of Shadows is likely to tolerate their presence for a time, perhaps until their next visit. The darkness recedes, the whispering ceases, and silence returns. The Court of Shadows cares little if the vindicated party does indeed go on to loot and pillage the tombs of the dead. Their abstract requirements have been satisfied.

 That said, if the defendant is found to be guilty, a wholly different fate awaits them. It is within the ability of the Courts to transport a person temporarily into the plane of shadow and, in doing so, whisk them away to another location within the Silent City. While there they see a wholly different version of the city- a vision from the past mingled with that of the present, all dark and crumbling and warped, entangled with twisting roots and tendrils of shadow. That is, if such a thing as the plane of shadows exists in your campaign. If not, then some other explanation might suffice. Perhaps they can transform someone into the stuff of shadow itself for a time, rendering them immune to the normal laws of the physical world, able to move in the shadow way. They must pass some kind of strength test or find themselves transported at great speed. If the Court of Shadows is unable to best them fully, the defendant may be taken to the nearest gate out of the city and deposited unceremoniously at the foot of it. However, if the Courts pass the ultimate verdict, the defendant may be transported elsewhere...

~

The Deep Chambers

 

There are places in the Silent City where even the dead cannot go. Sealed and forgotten, the Deep Chambers form the city's lowest and most ancient layer. To find oneself here is to face wandering through ruined, empty rooms for the rest of one's life. Light from above still reaches some of these rooms, though the distance it has travelled renders it cold and wan. The walls are sheer, and the ceilings are high. Without climbing equipment, there is little hope of escape. There may be riches here beyond imagining- the first and greatest of the dead made this their home, along with their wealth and their knowledge. However, with nowhere to take them, all the riches in the world are for naught.

 

 

Perhaps, here of all places, a roll table is required. What room awaits after hours of wandering through empty corridors? What doorway is peered through in passing? Feasibly, upon transportation to the Deep Chambers, players could end up directly in one of these types of room. There would be little point trying to form a coherent or cohesive map of the Deep Chambers from this table alone, as they represent isolated points of interest interspersed amongst seemingly endless subterranean streets and corridors- places of note between nonspecific routes and choices of left or right, and so on.

Roll on the following table for each hour a group spends wandering through the Deep Chambers:

D100 Deep Chambers-

A number with 1 factor- In this room, piles of bones have been stacked as high as the ceiling, but these bones are unlike those of any human. They are a full ten times larger, almost tree-like in their scale. Perhaps there equally scaled grave goods- necklaces with beads of carnelian and malachite the size of a man's fist, and golden coins as large as dinner plates.

A number with 2 factors- This room contains a deep fissure which descends further than eyes can see- even those with darkvision. It may divide the room in two. Or perhaps the floor simply stops. Dropping something down it results in echoing crashes for a good few minutes, growing quieter until it can no longer be heard. If a lit object is dropped, it falls and ricochets off the walls until it can no longer be seen. There is no discernible bottom.

A number with 3 factors- This room is stuffed with crooked shelves, some of which have crumbled to nothing but splinters. But others are crammed with books and scrolls and tablets of all kinds. If any of these languages had been spoken in the last ten thousand years, or perhaps if anyone had the time to translate them, the knowledge within might be of great interest to a scholar. Histories, treatise on magic, usable spells. Fortunately, those wandering in the deep chambers have nothing but time.

A number with 4 factors- The room is particularly grand and large, but otherwise empty. Perhaps you find yourself in a long, tall gallery flanked by deep alcoves, or a wide circular chamber with a domed roof, or perhaps a chamber filled with thick, tree-like columns which hold up crooked arches. You wade through thick dust. Brittle stone pops and crumbles beneath your feet. Particles drift down like sparse snow from the vaulted ceiling overhead, and your shuffling footsteps echo back at you from strange angles.

A number with 5 factors-  This chamber has suffered a catastrophic collapse. Huge blocks of masonry lie in heaps, the floor smashed to bits. Above is a gaping hole through which sunlight streams, a wound in the skin of the Silent City. High above, perhaps a hundred meters or more, the sky lies open. Whatever used to be here is now underneath tons of rock. Climbing over the ruins is possible, but what would you even find on the other side? More endless corridors and grey dust? Though perhaps the rubble has left a rough path upwards, for the skilled climber.

A number with 6 factors- There are large clay urns scattered throughout this room. Many of them are empty. Some of them are smashed or crumbled. Fewer still are sealed with mud or wax. Inside there may be rancid wine, or perhaps some small riches - corroded metal coins which are probably no longer legal tender, or semiprecious stones like amethyst and quartz. Or perhaps there is nothing in them but more dust.

 

A number with 7 factors- This room is tall and cylindrical. A spiral staircase winds around the wall, and many open doorways are dotted up the length of it, leading into the rock. Each doorway is barred with rusted iron, and leads to a cell little more than a metre squared. Some of them are empty, some of them contain one or more mouldering skeletons. In one of them, however, languishes one of the unquiet dead- a corpse which has clung to animus through sheer will alone. This person may be dangerous, or they may be amenable to conversation. But after such a long time, there is little chance of them being entirely sane. Perhaps they know a way out. Perhaps there is a deal to be struck.

A number with 8 factors- Upon the walls of this room are intricate murals and written texts which, though faded and worn, tell stories about lost and forgotten histories. Perhaps they are carved into the stone, or painted with ancient pigments in shades of red and brown. Animals which no longer exist cavort across the walls. Names and words unspoken in millennia are written beneath. These would be of immeasurable value to those who study such lore. Perhaps a skill increase can be given to those willing to study them.

A number with 9 factors- Water, dripping endlessly from the ceiling of this room, has formed a beautiful forest of stalactites. The calcite formations reach downwards like pale fingers.

A number with 10 factors- A spring wells up from the floor of this room. The water bubbles up through cracks, and pools in the centre of the chamber. Perhaps there are little patches of moss or lichen growing where light falls onto the flagstones. If passing wanderers feel so inclined, they could drink from the spring with no ill consequences. The water is sweet and cold.

A number with 11 factors- There are no numbers between one and one-hundred with eleven factors. Isn't that fun?

A number with 12 factors- A tomb. A sarcophagus atop a raised dais lies in the centre of this room. The sarcophagus is of stone, large and solid. A recumbent effigy of the interred is carved into the lid. The carving is perfect, peaceful, even beautiful. Inside the stone casket could be vast riches- the funerary regalia of a long-dead lord or lady, high priest, or even a monarch of some kind. However, they are likely to be in there themselves, and probably wouldn't take kindly to being disturbed, let alone burglarized.

Consecutive even-factored rolls- If two even-factored numbers are rolled consecutively, roll one more time and combine the two rolls into a single room. For example, after rolling at 34 (4 factors) and finding an empty room, the players continue to wander. In about an hour, they stumble upon another room. I roll a 49 (10 factors) and they find a chamber with a spring of clear, sweet water. Because I rolled another even-factored number, I roll again and get an 84 (2 factors), indicating that the floor of this room has a fissure or chasm in it. The spring water runs over the edge of this chasm and falls endlessly into the void. Perhaps they can hear it echoing up from below as it splashes down over the side, turning to spray before it ever reaches the bottom.

Consecutive odd-factored rolls- If consecutive odd-factored numbers are rolled (e.g., if a number with 5 factors is rolled, then a number with 9 factors) then the next room, in addition to its rolled content, contains some kind of staircase, mechanical lift, roughly-hewn tunnel, or easily scalable shaft which allows players to ascend (or descend) to another level of the city. Depending on how you are feeling, you could allow the players to escape the Deep Chambers entirely this way.

Perhaps players can also find their back to a previously visited room with a successful intelligence or wisdom check. It takes a number of hours equal to half the number of rooms visited so far, to reflect them knowing the way more directly instead of simply wandering aimlessly.

 

(n.b. This roll table is not meant for practical use unless you have another table of numbers from 1-100 ordered by number of factors. Sorry not sorry. Perhaps if you don't like that you could pre-generate a map based on some handy city-building mechanic like this one on the Last Gasp Grimoire site and then chuck in some more empty chambers for a laugh. I love that site, it's nuts.)

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I have decided not to include any combat encounters in the previous table because I think it would be interesting to try and run a nonviolent escape session. Feel free to include some monsters if that's what you're after, but I wonder if something a little more puzzling and less hair-raising wouldn't be better or at least more fitting. There is no immediate fear in the Deep Chambers. There is only an interminable, existential kind of dread that you may never be able to find your way out. And that if you do manage to escape, the Court of Shadows will find you once more. Next time, they may not be so lenient.

 

Wrapping Up

 

This ability of the Court of Shadows to move people around within the Silent City has some interesting implications for those who pursue the agenda of the dead, for those who are in league with them. Sometimes, the Corpse Lords turn to members of the living to carry out their will. Sometimes, the living are invited into the Silent City to serve as agents of the eternal kings and queens who govern there. If the players carry some kind of writ from the Corpse Lords, perhaps the Shadow Courts can act as a kind of guide, able to ferry players to where they need to be rather more quickly than their legs could carry them. They would be able to take players from gate to gate, so that the Silent City acts as a metro system, of sorts. Perhaps they might even be able to take players to some vague place within the city, for example a vast library or treasure vault. The Shadows care little for the affairs of mortals, only that the laws are followed to the letter. To the uninvited, the place behind the walls is a forbidding realm- the threat of eternal imprisonment looms round every corner. But once in league with the Silent City, the Shadow Courts can be the ultimate conveyance, able to deliver a person to the very threshold of their wildest dreams.

However, all this is to be said only of the Shadows which reside within the Silent City itself. There are those afflicted by the unquiet sickness who slip away from the collective body of the Courts and pursue their own agenda. They slide solitary beneath doorways and through keyholes in the dark, seeking to extinguish the light of the living wherever they find it, for it wounds them deeply. These are the lonely silent killers which lurk in darkness. There are a number of creatures I've mentioned in this post somewhat tangentially- the Arbiters, the solitary shadows, petitioners denied entry to the Silent City, possibly more. I'll be writing about all of these in turn. But this post needs to end; it's becoming unwieldy.

As with the last post, I used Midjourney to generate the images, so if you're curious about the prompts and methods I used, get in touch with me on reddit - u/W-R-St - because for some reason I can't get post comments to work on blogger any more.

Peace,

Orlaster