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Episode 18: Three for the Price of One

January 25, 2000 in Articles

You get a treat this week. Three columns for the price of one. A lot of people say I ramble, but this week, I’m concise. I got a lot of ground to cover.

Part One: If I Could Talk to the Animals

I went to the San Diego zoo this weekend, took tons of pictures of critters – including some magnificent shots of reindeer – and spent the whole day with “the reverend doctor” Rich McHugh, my medical/biological advisor and producer. Rich and I talked about gestation periods, life spans, a “snake eyelid” for elves, yeti and heard a lion roar.

If you have never heard a real lion roar…

We looked at Arctic brown bears and found out they’re 1500 pounds and ten feet tall. Again, if you haven’t seen it, it’s hard to put those kind of number in proportion.

I think the summation of the experience is in the little word “big”. Everything in the wild is just so big. The reindeer’s shoulders are as high as my head and their bodies are twice as thick (maybe three times) as my own. The thing can kick through an aluminum wall! Kick through it!

All of this made me think of how to get these kinds of critters across in a roleplaying game. I mean, I could give ‘em stats, but in order to show you just how big these things are, I have to put pictures in the book. I mean, Rich, Jenny, Bonnie and I looked at the critters and the first thing that went through my head was, “Orks hunt these things. Who in their right friggin’ mind would hunt these things?” Even the boars are huge! They stand up to my waist, covered in bristles, tusks, hooves and weigh something around three hundred pounds! They’re mean! They ram you, then stomp on your face and I don’t care what your stats are, if three hundred pounds of angry ram hits you in the gut, you fall down and get your face stomped on. No die roll. No damage roll. Face stomped. Story over.

It’s hard to put these kinds of things into perspective. I mean, I never knew reindeer were that big. I just got done writing about ‘em, and I didn’t put the numbers together. Seeing a picture of a reindeer and seeing one standing not more than twenty feet away from you is something else entirely.

So, a word of advice to all you out there. Go to the zoo. Take a look at these beasties that inhabit the wilds of our world. Don’t see ‘em on TV, don’t read about ‘em in books. Go have a look at them right now. Then, you’ll see how much different they’ll be in your game world.


Part Two: The Talented Mr. Denmark

By now you’ve heard about Mr. Denmark, but I thought it was time you got a look at what he’s doing for Orkworld.

Thomas has been sending me concept sketches for a few weeks now. You can find ‘em at orkworld.com, but I put a few of my favorites here along with comments. [ED: Click on any of the pictures for a larger image.]

First Look

This is the first sketch he sent me. The day I got it, I made it my wallpaper. My wife was the one who saw the elf ears around his neck. I missed those entirely. That’s because I was busy looking at our boy’s face. There’s character in that face. Expression. There’s somebody in there. This picture convinced us that Thomas was The Man for our project.

Dowmga

This one just broke my heart. In my head, the most important thing in an ork’s life is his mother. I wanted a race that loved their mommies, and Thomas captured it perfectly here. And, incidentally, this one is also my own dowmga’s favorite pic so far.

Sizes

This size comparison chart brought a lot of questions into my head. Thomas mentioned wanting to do a kind of “evolution of orks” chart. Do I want to go that far? Do I want to even address evolution? That brings up a whole lot of questions that I might not want to address. If I ignore evolution and assume that all the myths are true (orks just popped out of Keethdowmga’s tummy one day), it makes things a whole lot easier.

On the other hand, his picture of the elf made me re-think a couple things about the race. Now, I picture elves as anemic, sickly things that are only kept alive by their own sorcery. The obvious reference is a “race of Elrics” (that was Jenny’s immediate response), so I may want to reconsider. On the other hand, I like it. We’ll see.

Ork & Reindeer

Here’s the reindeer. Thomas informed me (after he sent this one) that he needed to do more research on reindeer anatomy before he drew them for real. Of course, my response was “Whuddya mean fur real? This looks pretty fur real ta me!”

Breeds

Lastly, Thomas sent a second round of pictures that had orks looking just a little different than the first picture. Compare this one with First Look above and compare the snouts. See what I mean? Thomas liked the change, but I was in love with the first one. We had a little talk and came up with an interesting development.

Human beings don’t all look alike. Neither should orks. We spent some time looking at different breeds of orks and talked about making orks with different shaped features. The snouts would be longer on some, wider on others. Different ears, different eyes, different noses.

Of course, the whole time, Thomas and I both wanted this. We just stumbled across it at the same time. Funny how development works, innit?

Anyway, like I said above, you can see more of Thomas’ work at orkworld.com and at his website: http://members.xoom.com/_XMCM/tldenmark/Index.html. Go check it out!

Part Three: It’s Survey Time!

And now on to another subject. A bit of advice I got from a friend. You see, I’m getting down to the wire. I gave myself a writing deadline, and that deadline is looming.

(And for all you aspiring game designers, you should do the same. All too often, I hear “Yeah! I got a game! I’ve been writing/playtesting it for (insert number here) years!” Listen up: Give yourself a deadline. If you don’t, you’ll be playtesting/writing it forever. Trust me on this. I could write about orks forever. Every day, I find out something new about them. But I have to publish the book sometime. If I don’t set myself a deadline, I’ll just keep writing.)

Here are my plans for printing Orkworld.

1) I only plan on selling them direct. From me to you. No middle man, no distributor, no game store.

2) The book itself won’t fit on shelves the way I’m planning to print it. Instead of the average 9″x12″ (round ’bout) that most game books are, I plan on Orkworld being 14″x14″, a little bit bigger than your average Time/Life book.

3) I’ll only print to order. That means, if I get 500 orders for Orkworld, I’ll only print 500. That means, after the print run, that’s it. No more Orkworld. Ever. I’m on to the next project.

4) I’ll sign and number each book, making each one unique.

5) You all know what’s going in the pages. You get the complete ork sourcebook, RPG rules, mass combat rules and “Big Picture” rules. No more rules, no more source material. A complete game world with complete game rules.

Now, that’s how I plan to do it. Here’s the problems that arise from all that.

1) Selling direct means a lot of distributors and retailers will call “foul!” After all, they want a piece of the action as well. I can’t say I blame ‘em. The problem is, I’ll only be selling 1,000 of these things at most. It’s gonna cost me a total of $4,332 to print the book. I’m taking pre-orders on the book, so I’ll have a rough idea how much I’ll have to charge in order to make a profit.

If I sell 250 copies, I’ll have to charge $17.33 to just break even.

If I sell 500 copies, I’ll have to charge $8.66 to break even.

If I sell 750 copies, I’ll have to charge $5.77 to break even.

If I sell 1000 copies, I’ll have to charge $4.33 to break even.

Sounds like good numbers, eh? Well, let’s look at some complications.

First, if I sell through distributors, they ask for a 60% discount. That means, if the cover price of the book is $20, the distributors buy it from me for $12. Remember those numbers up there? Compare that $12 mark with the number of copies sold. Now remember that a blow out in this industry is 3,000 copies. Most RPGs sell around 1,000 copies. If I do sell 1,000 copies, it’ll probably be to hard-core L5R/7th Sea fans. That suggests to me that I’ll sell 1,000 copies regardless of the distribution system.

Numbers (whose origins I cannot divulge) suggest to me that I can sell around 1,000 copies of Orkworld. That means, it’ll cost me around $4,332 to print it (remember?). That means, it’ll cost me $4.33 cents to print each book. That means I can sell them to distributors for $12 a piece – making a total $12,000 gross profit, or I can sell them myself for $20 a piece, making $20,000 gross profit. Subtract $4,332 from each total. Then subtract another $2,166 from that total. That’s how much my producer receives for putting up cash for the art and printing.

So…

Sell Through Distributors:

$12,000 minus $6498 = $5502

or

Sell On My Own

20,000 minus $6498 = $13,502

What would you do?

Of course, something important deserves to be said here. If I wrote Orkworld as a freelance project, I’d get paid anywhere between ¢2 and ¢5 a word. Let’s assume the better and say ¢4. It looks like Orkworld is going to be close to 100,000 words. That means I’d get paid $4,000 for writing it and would not own it when I was done. Compare that surefire $4,000 and the uncertainty of the other numbers mentioned.

I could sell Orkworld through the game stores and distribution channel, although (and I don’t think I’m stepping on any toes here – but you never can tell), the RPG distribution channels have… well… a rather unsavory reputation. That doesn’t mean that they’re all bad and it doesn’t mean that they’ll all screw me. What it means is that the RPG industry is a lean industry and they’re doing they’re best to stay alive. If that means they have to sell as much Magic or Pokemon as possible, then they’ll do it. I understand and sympathize with that situation. It also means that if I decide to sell through distribution channels, I have to ask for money up front. I’m a small company (just me and my wife!) and I really can’t afford to bet on the come line (go to Vegas, sit down at a craps table and figure it out if you don’t get it).

On the other hand, Eric Rowe over at Wizard’s Attic has also offered to give me a hand. (Go visit Eric at www.wizardsattic.com.) More on that later.

Now on to other matters.

2)Making the book bigger than your standard RPG is dangerous. Gamers are a reactionary lot. Look at Castle Falkenstein (cards instead of dice?!? What were they thinking?!?), Everway (same disease), Trinity (apparently size does matter) and any other RPG that’s tried something different. Making my book bigger gives it a distinct look. It makes graphic design easier, it gives me more room for maps (especially that Big map) and lets me have more fun with layout. Of course, it also makes it different. Gamers hate different. Different bad.

3)Printing to order isn’t so much a problem. In fact, if I send the book to Lightning Print (more on them later; but in short, they’re a print-to-order service), I can do this without a problem.

4)Signing and numbering each book is nice, but there’s probably a lot of folks who say “Who cares? How does the game play?” The fact of the matter is: Until we – gamers – start seeing our own hobby as worthwhile, until we – gamers – start looking at rare games as valuable, games won’t have value. I go to a lot of game conventions. I collect Cthulhu. I’ve got a copy of every edition, including most of the foreign editions. I also collect Chill. Finally, I try to have a copy of every basic RPG set. Being a collector in the game industry is funny. People look at you weird. “That’s not worth anything!” they tell me. Then, they open up their pack of Magic cards, pull out a little piece of cardboard with some picture and words on it and tell me “Now that’s worth something!” Yeah. Right. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder – and so’s the Beast.

So, the point of this little survey is to test out whether or not I want to move forward on Orkworld the way I planned. What I’m asking for all of you do to – even if you don’t plan on buying the book: your opinion is still very valuable to me – is to fill out the below survey. It’s quick, painless and easy. I’d appreciate it.

ORKWORLD SURVEY

1) Would you buy a book that’s larger than the standard game book?

2) Would you prefer to buy a book at your game store or over the internet?

That’s it. It’s that easy.

E-mail the responses to me at orkboss@orkworld.com. It’d appreciate it. If it’s easier for you, just post them in the Article Comments section of the forums. Open discussion always helps.


Part Four: One Last Thought…

And before I go, one last bit of penny wisdom. Don’t ever let your audience see behind the screen. The second they see you’re human, just trying to put out the best product you can, they also get see all the flaws. Forget the fact that you’re trying to help others do what you do, forget the fact that you’re an Ariadne String, showing other people false doors and pitfalls so it’s easier for them to get started on their own labyrinth. Forget the fact that you think the small press is the heart and soul of this industry, forget the fact that you believe gamers run this industry, and not Hasbro.

Forget all that. Gamers are looking for an excuse to tear you apart.

Someone told me that once. I forgot who it was.

I didn’t believe them, either.

Episode 17: There Was Supposed to be an Earth-Shattering Kaboom!

January 7, 2000 in Articles

Welcome back.

Well, the world didn’t end on schedule – God must be an RPG designer – which means I get some more time to develop Orkworld. I’ve got a ton of stuff to talk about and not a whole lot of space to do it. I’ve gotta be brief and move fast. You’ve got to keep up. If you fall behind, the Wuggly Ump will get you.

Don’t. Fall. Behind.

But don’t worry too much. We’re going in a circle. We’ll find your corpse – what’s left of it – and give it a decent burial. An Ork burial, that is.

(Dibs on the eyes!)

CUT TO:

The Ork Calendar

The Ork calendar is pretty simple. I owe inspiration from my very formative years in Minnesota where everyone knows:

“There’s only two seasons in Minnesota: Winter and Winter-Is-Coming.”

or:

“There’s only two seasons in Minnesota: Winter and Road Repair.”

I can’t decide which one I like better, so you get both.

If you take a close look at any culture, you’ll see that its mythology and folklore are highly influenced by the weather. Cultures that suffer storms, earthquakes and other natural disasters on a regular basis – like, oh say, Japan – invent gods that are terrible, ruthless and whimsically bloodthirsty. Cultures that live in harmony with nature – like our own Native Americans – invent gods that are even tempered and balanced. Of course, there are exceptions to every pantheon, but generally, if you get bad weather, you get Angry Gods.

Orks live in a harsh climate; it’s nearly winter all the time. The months that it isn’t winter are short. In fact, only of the year is free from the turmoil of snowfall. (And to reflect that, I’ve got Bashthrakka – one great big angry Thunder God with his shield and spear, ready to kill anything that happens to make his hair bristle.) Orks are surrounded by death for two thirds of their year. Or are they?

Orks actually see it very differently. They aren’t surrounded by death, they’re surrounded by sleeping life. Trees slumber through the winter, only to bloom again in the spring. Bears are the same. So are the antlers of the deer. And the flowers. Everything is sleeping.

Like any other primitive culture (and I use that term loosely), Orks see magic in the things that die and are born again. Any creature like the deer – who’s antlers fall off in fall and grow back in winter – is magic. Orks like to revere magic things, so these creatures are holy.

Now. We got Orks who live in an almost perpetual winter, observing creatures that die and are born again. The Orks base their calendar on these creatures. There’s the Season of the Bear, the Season of the Deer, the Season of the Falcon, the Season of the Hare, the Season of the Fox, the Season of the Reindeer and so on. Each critter has its own story and a gift that Pugg gave to each of them so they would be friends to the Orks. Pugg told the Bear the secret of Sleep, for instance. All you have to do to maintain friendship with Bear is let him sleep. Get him riled up, and you’ve got Trouble. Maybe more Trouble than any Ork wants.

Now for the mechanics.

Depending on when you’re born, you get a Birthdie. That die gives you bonuses depending on what kind of die it is. If it’s a Bear Die, then you get to add it to any rolls involving Strength. If it’s a Fox Die, you get to add it to any rolls involving Speed. If it’s a Hare Die, you get to spend it on any rolls involving Hiding. You get the picture.

On the other hand, each Birthdie has a drawback. Bears are slow and sleepy. Foxes are easily distracted. Hares are not very strong. Again, I think you know where we’re going.

Finally, each tribe takes an animal as it’s totem. Which brings us to another topic entirely. Something I’ve been holding out on for a very long time. But, it’s the new year. So, without further ado, we…

SLOW FADE TO:

Ork Tribes

Okay now. Before you go off on “Oh Crap! John’s making another Clan game!”…

You know what. I’m not going to lecture you. You should already know about looking and leaping. Or, as the Orks say, “If you invite Trouble in the door, it gets to stay.”

Instead of presenting a bunch of pre-fab clans that the players pick from, I decided to include rules that let them make their own. A group of players gets a certain number of points – based on how many players there are – to make their tribe. They get a whole mess of things to pick from including location, population, Mothers and – most importantly – Secrets.

Remember a little while ago when I mentioned that the Ork world for knowledge translated better as “secret”? Well, here’s where we get to talk about that.

Do you know how to make a fire from scratch? Not your character, I mean you?

If you don’t, then you’re not in on the secret.

How about sewing? That’s a secret. So’s iron working and playing an instrument and computers (that’s a big secret), and making paper and repairing cars… and even writing.

Ellison once said (and I have to paraphrase so I don’t get in trouble) “Everyone thinks they can do three things: drive, [screw], and write. I don’t have a drivers’ license.” Love that one.

When you build your Tribe, you purchase it’s secrets. Simple things like Fire are cheap. Iron Working is right at the top of the list.

You also spend points on how many Warriors you have, how far away from the monsters (humans, elves and dwarves) you are and how well your provisions are stocked. Lots of goodies.

You don’t get disadvantages to get more points. If you don’t spend any points in Distance From Monsters, that’s it’s own disadvantage.

Which reminds me. People are always asking me why I never put “botch” rules in my games. I’ll tell you why: Because failure is bad enough. Dave Williams taught me that one. And people call me a Killer GM. Sheesh.

Okay. We’ve talked about the Ork calendar and Tribe Creation. Which moves us right on to the next topic. Now that you know about Tribe Creation, let’s…

CUT TO:

Orkworld Metagame

Not only do you get rules for making Tribes, I’m also gonna give you rules for breaking them. The Tribes, that is, not the rules.

Orkworld is played in two “gears”: High Gear and Low Gear. I’ll get prettier terms later.

The Low Gear game is your usual RPG. You sit around the table and play your individual character and get him into and out of Trouble. High Gear, on the other hand, is playing on the Big Scale.

Hey. Wait a minute.

All right. Small Scale is playing the standard RPG. Big Scale is when the GM pulls out his Orkworld map and you all watch the humans move even further into Ork territory, tearing down trees and building roads. You also watch as elven slave traders capture young Orks and feed them to their hungry gods. You also watch the Dwarven armies of steel cut their way closer to the heretical human Empire – through the Orks. And in the middle of all that, you watch Ork tribes fight each other for dwindling supplies, and resources.

Get the Big Picture?

Before the RPG begins, one (or more) turns go by with troop movements. I’m including Mass Combat Rules for armies – including how players can influence those battles. Some Orks will be caught on the front, fighting off men, dwarves and humans, while others will be in the rear, holding off the stemming tide of trolls and ogres.

Oh. That’s right. I haven’t mentioned trolls and ogres yet, have I? Maybe next week.

All of which means Orks are running out of time. The situation isn’t desperate… not yet, at least, but it is getting rather dark out there. Winter’s on it’s way again. That means the humans will slow their marching, but it also means more Orks dying because of lack of supplies.

Two seasons in Orkworld: Winter-Is-Coming and Humans-Are-Coming. Full circle. Right back to the beginning.

Next week, we talk a bit about shamen – finally – and how we’ll handle the game mechanics of Ork Secrets.

Also, it seems that Orkworld has been hit by that nasty myth someone dubbed “Y2K”. (Not really, but like Pugg, I like causing Trouble every once in a while). Don’t worry, we’ll be up and running again soon.

Take care, keep your loved ones close, and have a hopeful new year.

At least, until God gets this Armageddon thing on the printers. I hear he’s having trouble with character creation. Maybe I should call him up and offer him a hand.

CUT TO:

INT. HEAVEN-DAY

God sits on his couch, beer in one hand and the other curled around a bag of chips. His eyes are glued to the TV. Suddenly, annoyingly, the phone rings. God snatches it up with his third hand and answers angrily.

JOHN

Hello? God?

GOD

What the Hell do you want?

JOHN

I was wondering when that End of the World thing was gonna be done?

GOD

It’ll be done when it’s done! Now leave me alone! The Sci-Fi Channel’s playing Wonder Woman re-runs.

JOHN

Okay. Talk to you … [abrupt click…] Hm. Oh well. Guess I’ll have to go talk to that Wujcik guy. How do you spell his name, again?

Episode 16: Just Three Letters: “S. E. X.”

December 18, 1999 in Articles

No tricks. No acronyms. This week, we’re talking about the Big Nasty. The Tubesnake Boogie. The Yearning of the Loins for Each Other.

This week, we’re gonna talk about sex. Specifically, we’re gonna talk about the problems with addressing … Thingie… in your homebrewed roleplaying game. There’s a lot of them. A whole lot of them. It’s a big topic, so let’s get started.

Problem, The First: PG-14

There’re two ends of the spectrum here, and both of them come from the comic book industry. We got DC comics on one end and we got Frank Miller on the other.

You see, there are folks who think you should warn others about the content of your book. After all, the audience for roleplaying games is a wide one, including adults, young adults and children. I’ve run L5R and 7th Sea for hundreds of people, and let me tell you, there’re a whole lot of children in that audience. Do I, as publisher and author, have an obligation to put a warning on my book that says, “This book includes material that parents should read before their children do!”? It’s a valid question, and one that could save me from unwanted publicity later.

On the other hand, books like (looking at my bookshelf right now) Fight Club, Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas, King Lear, Othello, Where is Joe Merchant? and even Roget’s International Thesaurus have words, passages and ideas in them that “May not be suitable for younger viewers”. And isn’t it the duty of the parent to read everything their children read? Isn’t that the parent’s job?

Or, should I be courteous, and tell the parent: “Hey! Orkworld is an anthropological study of a race that never existed, which means there’s discussions of sexual practices in here! Like everything else on your child’s bookshelf or in his backpack, you should have a look at this before they do” Or, should I just leave the whole thing alone and let people make up their own answers. After all, that’s what the majority of roleplaying games do.

Or, should I do as Frank Miller does. Should I write my book the way I damn well please and to Hell with people who think they can dictate what I write because they’re afraid their children might become somehow corrupted by the content of a book. I don’t know about you, but I knew full well what sex was when I was nine. Had suspicions even sooner. But then again, I was pretty quick as a kid. It’s when I started doing all that caffeine that things slowed down.

Frank believes that putting a label on your book is like a sticking a Freak Magnet on the cover; you’re just asking for trouble. “Hey! Look at me! I’m controversial! I’m fodder for your book-burning pyre! Just go ahead and throw me on!”

This is the First Problem. The problem of breaking the rules. Even Steve Jackson is hesitant about putting sexually explicit material in his GURPS books. It’s a decision I can completely understand. After all, at AEG, my boss – John Zinser – made it simple and clear: No Sex. No Pregnancy. No Babies. Of course, we broke that rule a couple times, but every time we did (okay, not every time) I told him about it, explained why it was necessary and he either agreed or disagreed.

In case you didn’t figure it out, this is why we didn’t have a chapter on homosexual samurai in the L5R RPG. Not that I tried to include one. I knew better than that. Which leads us to the Second Problem.


Problem, The Second: Who Wants to Play a Gay Ork?

Bi-sexual Ork, actually. But we’ll get to that later.

This second problem is one of marketability. Some stores won’t carry a game that deals with sexuality in an open manner, even if it’s an anthropological study of a race that never existed. Even if I handle it quickly, calmly and without “bad words”. Even if I handle it in a cold, observational, scientific way. They just won’t carry it. I know this from first-hand experience.

Then there’s the problem with the players. Will I turn people away if I have a small paragraph devoted to Ork sexuality? How about half a page? How about a full page? How much is too much? How much should I leave to the imagination?

Or, will the majority of players deal with that little paragraph like they deal with anything else they don’t like in their RPG? Will they just ignore it or change it to something that suits them better? It’s a good question. And I think I have the answer.

Answer: Jumping Out of the Frying Pan With Cement Galoshes on My Feet

By now, you know that I don’t like to compromise when I don’t have to. When it’s necessary, I’m Compromise Daddy (note: no homosexual samurai in Rokugan). But now that it’s my game, under my terms, with my rules, I don’t have to compromise. I can do what I want the way I want.

Still, I have to consider fan reaction. I have to consider parents’ reactions. I have to be considerate to their needs.

But then there’s that part of me that hears Frank Miller and Uncle Harlan screaming about never compromising your principles, never sacrificing your message for the sake of those who don’t want to hear it in the first place.

So, here’s my compromise between my Conscience and my Ego.

I will include a section on Ork sex. It will be, like everything else in the book, it will not be sensational (with big, black, bloody rubber sex toys), nor will it be as dull as a chapter out of a Victorian wedding guide. It will be about Ork sex, the celebration of the flesh. Here, let me explain…


The Dirty Part

We’ve talked before about sex, you just didn’t notice. When I mentioned that Orks don’t recognize that sex has anything to do with childbirth. Remember that? Good. It’s important.

Because of that little detail, Orks don’t have any sex taboo. After all, the reason homosexuality is “sinful” in our culture is because The Church (which is kind of like saying “The Government”; not at all fair but very convenient for an essay that’s supposed to be 2,000 words) decided that sex was sinful and shameful. The only time it wasn’t was when we were using it to make babies.

Orks don’t have this problem because they believe The Goddess makes babies. Men and women copulating has absolutely nothing to do with that miraculous act. There are no Ork marriages, so there’s no taboo against pre-marital sex.

Which also raises another question. If Orks don’t recognize that male and female copulation makes babies, what’s to stop males from having sex with other males? Or females from having sex with other females? Where are the taboos?

I’ll tell you where they’re at. They’re with all those silly humans, elves, dwarves and stunties. With the knowledge of the seed comes taboo. They get to grow crops and Orks get to have sex with anyone they like without the weight of sin or shame.

Now then. You know my dirty little secret. I’m gonna put bi-sexual Orks in my game.

Is it central to playing the game? No.

Is it important to playing the game? No.

Is it faithful to the race that I’m creating? Yes.

Is it appropriate material for a roleplaying game? … well …

Yes. Yes, it is. Entirely appropriate for what I’m doing. I said I was going to cover every element of Ork culture, right down to the dirty little secrets. To do any differently snaps my disbelief suspenders, and I’m not gonna do that.

Besides, you’re too crafty. You’d see it a mile away. If I cheated, you’d call me on it. And I don’t want that.

Conclusion

Bi-sexual Orks.

Does that change your mind about buying the game?

If you answered “Yes” or “No”, consider your answer. Think about why you answered the way you did. There are complications either way.

And I thought talking about Warrior-Women was Trouble…

Quick Post-Script

If you were offended by this week’s essay, it ain’t my fault. You knew what it was about at the very beginning. Because you chose to continue reading isn’t my problem. You are an adult human being. You have freewill. You could have chosen to ignore this week’s column and lived without it. But instead, you continued to read on, joyfully looking for everything that offended you. Sorry. That ain’t my fault.

Also, I don’t believe that anyone can “be offended”. I put forth the notion that people choose to be offended. Take a look at the cover of Rolling Stone magazine featuring Brittany Spears. She looks like a hooker. She’s also… seventeen? Sixteen?

Putting her – an under-age girl – in a halter top with her cleavage hanging out in a short skirt in a sexually provocative pose is Kiddie Porn, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Or is it only when a 400 pound loser who lives in his parents’ basement does it count as Kiddie Porn?

This week’s lesson: If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then so is the beast.

See you next week, folks.

Maybe. If I survive the stoning.

Episode 10: Even More Trouble (or, What Snaps Your Disbelief Suspenders?)

December 16, 1999 in Articles

This week, I’m getting in Trouble.


You see, this week, we’re going to talk about women. And whenever you talk about women, there’s Trouble a brewin’.


But before we get to the unfair sex (that’s Wilde’s term, not mine), let’s spend a moment or two talking about two very important things to remember when designing a game world: disbelief suspenders and gimmes.


Imagine yourself in a movie theater. Imagine yourself watching a movie about people who play roleplaying games. Imagine for a moment that the actors, playing Dungeons & Dragons (the only roleplaying game as far as Hollywood is concerned) are talking and one of them says:


“Gee, I almost ran out of Armor Class! I’m glad you made my Saving Throw!”


Every gamer in the audience suddenly jolts in his seat, almost as if he’s been struck. A few of them even cry out.


What just happened?


Everybody who knows anything about gaming just had their disbelief suspenders snapped.


I’m sure we all know about “suspension of disbelief”, so “disbelief suspenders” should be an easy one to figure out. Whenever someone in a film, book or television show says or does something that makes you suddenly realize that you know more than the actor playing the “expert” on TV, you suddenly feel a sharp pain against your chest because someone just reached out, grabbed hold of the suspenders that hold up your disbelief and let go.


Ouch!


It happens to my buddy Dave all the time. Dave’s a cop. Whenever he watches cop shows, he sees cops walk into dangerous situations with their guns drawn and he just flinches.

Last week, I talked about Trouble.


“Why the hell does he have his gun pointed at the ceiling?” he exclaims, holding his chest for the pain. “What’s he gonna do? Shoot the roof?”


Dave then goes on to explain that cops (here in LA, anyway) are trained to keep their guns at eye level at all times. They never raise the muzzle up. Ever. So, when he sees LA cops do that on TV, it just hurts. I got the same bug from Dave, so now whenever I see it, I feel the snap on my chest.


Now, my wife’s disbelief suspenders have got a lot of give. She loves horror films — good or bad. Much to my chagrin, we’re off to see STAB — no, it ain’t BATS, it’s STAB — for better or worse. Her disbelief suspenders are pretty loose. She’s got a great policy about stuff like this: “If a film asks me to accept one premise and they stay within the boundaries of that one premise, we’ll get along just fine.” Face/Off was a great example of that. If you could buy the tech they were using, everything else works. If you couldn’t buy it, then it doesn’t.


And when you do buy it, even when it should snap those suspenders until you get welts, that’s called a “gimme”. The surgery in Face/Off is a gimme. Light sabers are a gimme. Star Trek is so full of gimmes that… well, I just better stop right there.


To be plain, a gimme is when you (the author) say to your audience, “Look. I know this doesn’t work, but just pretend it does for a couple of hours.”


The problem is, everyone’s suspenders are different. Some people buy warp speed. Some people buy stargates. Some people buy a waifish blonde chick can kick the hell out of hellspawn demon vampires. Everybody’s different, and that means everybody’s suspenders are different.


And that means, you have to be very careful with your gimmes. Ask the audience to accept too many of them, and you lose ‘em. Asking them to accept even one is risky.


Don’t believe me?


Ask Lucas about metachlorians. And, no, I don’t care how they’re spelled. They snap my suspenders.


So. Disbelief suspenders and gimmes. Two very important things to consider when designing a game world.


Now let’s talk about one of the biggest gimmes in fantasy world design.


Women.


* * *


ORKWORLD has just entered the iron age, but barely. That means it puts it right around 300 — 200 B.C. Now, consider the cultures right ‘round those times. Consider how they treated their women.


Women are property. Sometimes they’re even less than that.


Now, as a game designer developing my fantasy world, I have to consider how to treat Ork women in such a way that it doesn’t make people’s suspenders snap. How many gimmes can I get away with?


I mean, realistically, Ork women should hold the same kind of positions that women do in their contemporary cultures. The Vikings treat their women like property. The Celts do the same. The Romans don’t allow their women to vote because they’re not real people. Many of the Native American cultures lock their women away a few days a month because they’re “dirty”. And let’s not talk about how the Japanese and Chinese are treating their women. That kind of behavior borders on deplorable.


So. How do we treat women in ORKWORLD?


I’ll tell you how we do it: with a whole lot of gimmes.


Fortunately, gamers are very accepting of “woman gimmes”. It’s easy for gamers to accept dragons soaring through the sky — even though those five thousand pound dragons have absolutely no right being in the sky, no matter their wingspan. It’s easy for gamers to accept magic — even though the magic presented in RPGs has no right working with the metaphysics explained in those game books. It’s also easy for gamers to accept a culture that treats women and men as equals — even though such a culture has never existed in the history of mankind.


(Now I’ve done it. Somebody [notice I was gender inspecific] with an anthropology degree is going to write me up and say, “Hah! Wick doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He’s full of crap! There is a culture that doesn’t give a flying turd about gender and treats its men and women equally. Well, we’ll have to see. Maybe there is. Maybe there isn’t. But the fact of the matter is, if there’s such a culture, it’s the exception and not the norm. The exception proves the rule. Anyway, back to the column.)


(And if you think this was a rant, you should have seen the five paragraphs I wrote about how many people believe “B.C.” stands for “Before Christ” and “A.D.” stands for “After Death”. I deleted those paragraphs for your sake. You can thank me by sending the checks to Gaming Outpost. Make sure to spell my name right.)


The problem with all of this is (finally, he gets to the point) that my suspenders snap when I see a pseudo-culture that doesn’t deal with this problem. Whenever I see that Elves treat their women exactly the same as their men, my suspenders snap. That isn’t a real culture. In fact, that’s a lazy culture. That’s someone who didn’t want to deal with the problem, so they shunted it off. Ignored it. Pretended it wasn’t there.


Well, I’m not going to do that with ORKWORLD. I can’t do it. The reason? I spent too much time in Rokugan.


* * *


The Japanese word for “dilemma” contains two characters. One is “dangerous”. The other is “opportunity”.


Creating a pseudo-culture for a roleplaying game is filled with dilemmas. Women are the biggest one. Here’s how I’m going to handle women in Ork culture.


(Before we begin, all spellings for Ork words are phonetic for your convenience.)


First off, let’s talk a little about the structure of Ork culture. Ork culture is a matriarchy. The women are in charge. Why? Because only women can make babies. That’s magic. Real magic. The biggest magic. Making life.


By the way, Ork males haven’t figured out that they have anything to do with making babies. They think the goddess comes down into an Ork woman and gives her a baby. That little discovery — or, the Ork’s lack of discovery of it — has a great impact on their culture. Watch.


Each Ork family, called a “krath”, has only one Mother, called “Orkay”. The Orkay has a number of male warriors to protect her and the family. Some of those warriors are part of her… harem. Remember what Ork males haven’t figured out yet. That means there is no Ork word for “father”. Only mother.


The rest of the family works. They serve as farmers, copper and bronze smiths (most Orks haven’t figured out iron yet, something we’ll explore in a future episode), or carpenters.


So, an Ork tribe looks something like this:


1 Ork Mother


10-20 Ork Warriors


50-100 Ork Workers


Anywhere from ten to twenty Ork tribes make up a clan. We’ll talk about clan hierarchy later.


* * *


When an Ork is born, the baby is not recognized as male or female. It is simply “child”. The Ork word is “flug”. Ork childhood lasts three years. By that time, they’ve grown to five feet tall with wide shoulders and a full mouth of teeth. They’ve also shown signs of male or female genitalia. That means they’re ready for initiation.


The bard of the Clan chief shows up to each tribe with his painted up warriors. He gathers up the warriors of each tribe and they go from household to household, snatching up boys. The boys run to their mother, screaming in fear for the angry gods that have come to collect him. The mother clings to her child, screaming at the gods, begging them not to take her child.


But she’s in on the trick. She knows what’s up. She’s pretending. Why?


Because when you and I are children, the closest thing we come to God is our parents. Our parents feed us, protect us, hold us when the thunder comes.


When the gods come, not even mother can protect you.


The boys are gathered up and taken into a cave. The boys see, by torch light, horrible pictures drawn on the walls. Pictures of monsters and angry, hungry gods. The gods tell the boys to build a fire. Then, they tell the boys to sit in a circle around the fire and keep each other awake. If any of them falls asleep, they will all be killed. All they’re given to eat are mushrooms.


Yes, those kind of mushrooms.


And for three days, the boys sit around that fire, eating mushrooms, trying to stay awake.


For three days.


If they make it, they’re Orks.


If they don’t, they’re corpses.


Orks that succeed are then allowed to sleep. When they awaken, they are told secret stories that only male Orks know. They’re also told they are brothers. They’ve survived a horrible ordeal, and now nothing can drive them apart. Nothing.


The boys are then brought down into the lower levels of the cave. And that’s where they meet the newly initiated female…


* * *


Little girls undergo a slightly different initiation ceremony. Instead of going into the cave in groups, females are brought down one by one. They go to a deeper part of the cave (symbolic in it’s own way). There, they are surrounded by darkness and they eat the mushrooms as well. Then, they wait for the Goddess.


Ork mythology teaches that all Orks are born from the Goddess. During her initiation ceremony, the Goddess comes to her and tells her a secret. This secret she must never share with anyone else in the world. It is this secret that gives her the power to give birth.


Then, when she’s learned her secret, she meets with the boys who just became men. She meets them as the incarnation of the goddess.


“This is the mother you must protect,” the Ork Gods tell the newly made men. “Protect her well.”


Still disoriented from the experience (and high on the drugs), the Orks don’t see a woman, they see the Goddess. They have a profound experience that no other person in the world can even begin to understand.


And together, that little group goes out into the world to create their own tribe. They inherit workers from their respective families and build houses, farms and walls to protect the mother.


The mother chooses warriors to come to her bed and she makes babies. By the way, Ork males do not “share” the bed. The bed belongs to the mother.


And that’s the basis for Ork culture.


Of course, this kind of situation causes problems. But we’ll deal with those next week.


* * *


By the way, go see Fight Club.


Right. The. Hell. Now.


If you have already, go see it again. It’s very different viewing when you’ve seen it once before. Those of you who know the language I’m talking know what I mean.


Take care.


And go hug your mom.

Episode 11: A Potpourri of Goodies

December 16, 1999 in Articles

A quick note before we get started. I’d like to spend just a moment or two talking about the White Wolf “publicity stunt”. Those of you who don’t think that this has anything to do with game design, go stick your heads back in the sand.


Yeah, Wick is on a mean streak again. Sue me.


Whenever you do anything to push your game, you have to consider every gamer when trying something new. I said “every gamer” because there really isn’t such a thing as a “gaming community”.


You’ve got people who sit back quietly and watch everything. They enjoy what they read and really never say a word. This is the majority of players.


Then you’ve got the vocal minority who shout at everything. They’re hyper-sensitive about change (“using CARDS in a roleplaying game? what the f&*^’s wrong with DICE?”) and bringing anything new into the industry.


Unfortunately, public opinion in easily swayed by these people. A sad, but very real, fact.


Or is it?


There’s been a lot of noise about White Wolf/AEG/TSR, but the fact of the matter is, these companies still produce the top ten selling RPG products. With all the noise about 7th Sea, it still managed to be the #3 release for 3 months at one of the major distributors. (I’m using 7th Sea as an example here because it’s what I -know-, not because I’m trying to plug my own game. I don’t even work for the company anymore. Like Twain said, “Write what you know.” And if you think I’m doing it to boost my royalties, then pal, you’ve got a lot to learn about the gaming industry. But, just in case…) Look at Vampire 3rd. With all the complaints, it’s still in the top 5 best-selling RPGs for months on end. And for all the hateful bashing of TSR, I can guarantee you, it don’t matter what’s in between the covers of those 3rd Edition AD&D books, there’s a ton of folks who’s gonna buy ‘em.


And don’t even get me started on Magic.


So, why do games that are consistently thrashed on the intent continue to outsell games that are praised?


Because the vocal minority is only shouting at themselves. People who hate White Wolf shout at other people who hate White Wolf and they shout back. Then, the hate-mongers feel all gushy inside because they’re not alone. Then, they get all jazzed because they catch the attention of the game designer, throw a bunch of insults at him (or her) and feel all gushy inside because “I certainly told him what-for!”


Is this true of every gamer? No, it certainly is not. The majority of gamers are -great people-. Some of the best people I’ve ever met.


(Watch how many people ignore that statement when they reply to this. Just watch. I can see it now: “Wick admits he hates gamers!” No, Wick does not hate gamers. Wick regrets the fact that there are people who feel compelled to piss in other people’s punch. Wick regrets that so many people are still in the fifth grade, pointing at other people’s favorite game system, saying “Look at all the holes and mistakes!” when they clearly are blinded to the holes in mistakes in their own favorite system. Despite his atrocious PR people drowning out what he said over what he did, Jesus said some wonderful things, including that whole bit about the mote in your eye and the log in mine.)


But by saying that -most- gamers are great, you are saying that there are some who are not. And it’s that last group of people who rule the internet. They shout and scream and point fingers and stay up until six in the morning in front of their computers, looking for something to rant about.


So, from the point of view of a designer, I think the White Wolf ‘stunt’ was a great idea. Yes, I knew – as did many others, and not just game designers – that it would draw the ire of the (how did Nathan put it?) “over-reactionaries”, but then again, you have to consider some things:


1) Will the over-reactionaries scream about it?


Yes. They scream about everything.


2) Will anyone listen to the over-reactionaries?


Some might.


3) Will the silent majority remain silent?


Yes.


4) Is it worth doing?


That’s all up to you and how much you want to invest in the company that makes Advil.


Me, I don’t give a crap what most people say, especially when they’re shouting. I design my games the way I want. Lots of people buy them. That’s a great bonus. You -can’t- make a living in this industry. You -can’t-. There’s not enough money to go around. So, you’ve got to consider why you’re doing it.


For public appeal? No.


Because you love RPGs? Yes.


Then who gives a flying turd -what- the over-reactionaries, or anyone else for that matter, thinks?


I make RPGs because I -love- them.


If people like the RPGs I design, that’s a great feeling. One of the best in the world. But it comes in second to that feeling of opening up that box that just came in from the printers and smelling that wonderful “just printed” smell on your brand new book.


So, new game designers, listen up.


Ignore the critics. Ignore the shouters.


Make your game the way you want. The way that makes you happy. Remember the old line about customer service:


Every angry customer complains.


Only 1 in 10 happy customers compliment.


Remember that. It’s important. It’ll keep the Advil out of your medicine cabinet.


* * *


Okay. The rant was 950 words. This column is supposed to be around 2000 words. You’re gonna get 3000 so nobody can say they were cheated.


* * *


This week is answering questions. I got a ton of them from the column last week, and all them coincided with what I wanted to write this week.


So, here we go.


 


What happens to an Ork family that loses its mother?


A small detail I omitted from the column last week was the inclusion of “Ork maidens”. Women who have not yet gone through the initiation rites yet serve a mother for a period of time. (I imagine them standing next to the mother, dressed in white robes, looking all holy and stuff.) They serve as the Mother’s “hand maidens”, helping her out with daily chores, delivering messages to other Mothers, that sort of thing.


When they’re old enough, they go through the ritual and become Mothers. But until then, they’re Maidens. But when an Ork family loses it’s Mother, one of the maidens goes through the initiation rite. She returns as the new Mother.


Now, Ork Maidens present a new problem. Orks don’t recognize that sex has anything to do with the procreation process. That means that there can’t be any kind of sex taboo.


Which means maidens ain’t necessarily maidens. If you get my drift.


Sex + Maiden = Baby. That makes her a Mother. So now we have to come up with some kind of explanation for all that. Something that works within the Ork metaphysics.


Or, we have to make a sex taboo. Only warriors and mothers can do it.


Or, we have to say that a Maiden gets pregnant first, then goes through the initiation process.


Lots of different options. Not sure which one I’m going to run with.


But the question does show you the process of how quickly ideas can change while you’re working on them and why it’s so unsafe to consider any work “finished” until it goes to the printer.


What happens to girls who fail the initiation?


They meet the same fate as the boys.


But then again, this question raises a topic I’ve been considering for quite a long time. The question of Warrior-Women.


It’s almost a necessity. I have to include it in Orkworld in some way. It’s too popular an archetype not to include it. Also, it would be marketing suicide not to do it.


Will it snap disbelief suspenders? Yes. (Including my own.)


Will it sell more games? Yes.


Unfortunately, I’m not ready to answer the question of Warrior-Women just yet. Still trying to figure that one out.


I know there’s a Goddess. What does the rest of the pantheon look like?


Well, let’s take that from the top.


In the beginning, the Great Goddess Keethdowmga (with ten thousand teats) gave birth to ten thousand Orks. They were all born with their spears and shields and armor on. They immediately began to fight.


In the end, there were only three Orks left: mighty Bashthrakka, Gowthdukah the Wise and Silent and little Pugg.


Bashthrakah appears in Ork stories as a massive warrior with a black hide and a great spear and shield. It is said that it is his battle with the blue dragon of the sky that causes storms. Orks believe the sky is the belly of The Dragon of the Sky, a beast that has a great rivalry with Bashthrakah. Whenever they are about to fight, the Great Ork slams his spear against his shield, making the sky shudder with the sound. When the two fight, you can see their wrath streak across the sky. As the sky fills with the black blood of their God, they rejoice that he still fights on, despite his wounds. And at the end of the battle, when both combatants lie dying, it is the dragon’s magic blood that heals them both so they may fight again one day.


(By the way, whenever he goes into battle, Keethdowmga weeps for her son. So do all mothers weep for their sons when they go into battle.)


The second god, Gowthdukah, is the tall, slim and silent brother. He was born mute. Because he could not speak, he invented a system of symbols that allowed him to communicate with his brothers. This is how Orks learned language. Gowthdukah is the Keeper of Secrets, for it was he who watched the other gods and stole their knowledge. Although he did not steal fire. We’ll talk about that story later. Gowthdukah has a magic cloak that allows him to take any form he likes. In this way, he spies on the other gods, steals their knowledge and passes it on to the Orks.


Lastly, there is little Pugg. Pugg appears as the smallest of the brothers and is usually represented with an enlarged foot (it was smashed by Bashthrakah after a particularly nasty trick). It was Pug who tricked the gods of men, dwarf and halfling (still don’t like that; gotta do something about it) out of their portions of the afterlife. It was Pugg who stole fire. Almost all the stories of the gods have some mention of Pugg. Here is one now.


* * *


Long, long ago, when the world was all winter, Pugg stole fire. This is how he did it.


The sun is a covetous creature. It shares its warmth when it chooses and hides behind clouds when it feels it isn’t being adored. This is why the men pay such homage to it. Silly men. They have yellow brains.


(Orks regard the color “yellow” as weak. Albino Ork children are not born white, they are born yellow. Therefore, anything that is yellow is weak, and to call someone “yellow brained” or “yellow footed” or “yellow hands” is a harsh insult, and not one that should be taken lightly.)


The Orks were freezing. Pugg knew it. Did he complain? No! He did something about it.


The sun is not only covetous, but it is also vain. And proud. And selfish. Why do you think the sun is so yellow? But the sun has one thing that nothing else in the world has: it has fire. And Pugg went up there to steal it.


He borrowed his brother’s cloak of changing (as he so often does) and changed into the shape of a bird. Then, he flew up as high as he could, even above the clouds and above the sky, to the place where the sun is.


“Look at you!” shouted Pugg at the sun. “You’re much fatter than I though you would be!”


The sun ignored him. At least, pretended to ignore him. But nobody can fool Pugg. Not even the sun.


“Look at you!” shouted Pugg again. “All fat and happy. And very, very ugly. Is that why you make yourself so bright: so the rest of the world can’t see how ugly you are?”


This time, the sun made a scowl. Pugg hid his face behind his wings. “Ah!” he cried. “Don’t do that! You are already too ugly to behold. Making faces only makes it worse!”


The sun grew ever angrier. It said, “What do you want little bird? Do you want to feel my fire and fall to the earth as a cinder?”


“Hah!” shouted Pugg. “You couldn’t hit me with your fire. You’re so fat and ugly, you couldn’t even hit yourself! Although if you did hit yourself in the face a few times, it might make an improvement!”


The sun burst with fury and shouted at Pugg, “Foolish bird! Now you will feel the wrath of the sun!”


The sun sent out its fire and the flames hit Pugg and his brother’s cloak of changing. And Pugg screamed at the pain. But he did not fall. Oh no. He did not fall.


Instead, he flew with his flaming feathers down into the world. But the flames were hot, too hot for even Pugg, and he fell. Fell, fell, fell. But before he hit the ground, he was caught by an Oak tree.


“Thank you, Oak tree for saving me,” said Pugg. “And for your kindness, you may have a bit of the fire I have stolen.”


Then, he flew away to the Orks of the world and cast off the flaming cloak. The Orks took the fire of the cloak and kept it safe, although the cloak was ruined.


When Pugg returned home, his brother asked about his cloak. “I am sorry, my brother,” said Pugg. But I have lost your cloak.” Then, he told the story of what happened. Instead of anger, Gowthdukah smiled and walked away, content with the trick Pugg had made.


And that is how Pugg stole fire and gave it to the Orks.


* * *


(But it is also the story of how Pugg gave fire to Oak trees, who remain green even in winter. And it is also why Orks can draw fire from wood, because Oak trees have a little fire inside of them. It just needs to be coaxed out.)


* * *


That’s the basics of the pantheon. But let’s not stop there. Let’s go a little further and discuss the ramifications of the pantheon I’ve chosen, shall we?


There are really two kinds of gods: active and passive.


Active gods are like Jehovah. They make the rules.


Passive gods are like the Japanese and Chinese gods. They follow the rules.


The difference between the two is very important to the development of the Orks’ character. If the Ork gods are active (they created the universe, created the world, created life), then they can make up the rules as they go and they can break the rules when they wish.


Jehovah is a great example of an active god because he “goes where the wind blows” (that’s a deadly quote by the way; many scholars believe those words got Cretian de Troyas — otherwise known as Christian of Troy — killed). Jehovah even hands out sets of rules — ten to be exact. And because he made man and man is his favorite critter, man is also somewhat above the rules. This is where our concept of freewill is born. Granted, it takes us a few thousand years to get around to it, but without an active god, we wouldn’t have developed it.


Don’t believe me? Well, let’s look at passive gods, and I’ll show you why.


Passive gods do not make rules, they are bound by them. Look at the deities of the Far East and you’ll see what I’m talking about. The gods of the Far East are part of a huge machine and must abide by the machine’s rules. Like man, they fulfill a role and that is all. They are agents of the universe, working as its employees. They do not cause plagues and floods, they are simply enacting the will of the universe.


Let’s look at it from another angle. Passive gods are like soldiers; they follow orders. A soldier is not accountable for his actions during a time of war because he is following a superior’s orders. Like Mr. Miagi says, “No such thing as bad student, only bad teacher. Teacher say, student do.” It’s the same for soldiers. Sergeant say, soldier do.


Because of this viewpoint of the universe, the individual is missing from the Far East. In fact, the person who cries out, “I am free to do what I want” is dangerous. He’s the monster, the thing that must be controlled. On the other hand, the hero is the person who undertakes great and dangerous tasks regardless of his own desires or fears.


Folks who are familiar with Legend of the Five Rings will recognize this. The whole theme of the Clan War story arc was a group of seven heroes who had to fulfill a prophecy and reenact an event that occurred a thousand years ago. Every thousand years, the same act must be reenacted or the world will come to an end. These seven heroes — the Seven Thunders — were forced to put aside their own lives and go through with the ritual, knowing that not all of them would return.


(And as a side note, in the original story, many of them did not return. However, the popularity of the product demanded that we change the ending so we could write a sequel. I didn’t like it, but then again, it’s hard to argue with the people who sign your checks. I’m still very happy with the ending you all got to see. I do miss the one you didn’t get to see.)


The hero of the West, on the other hand, is the one who doesn’t go with the flow, who refuses to follow the set path and makes his own rules. This is the hero of genre fantasy, the one we know and love. We’re talking Conan, Arthur, Dragonlance guys and gals, The Man With No Name, Luke Skywalker, the Professor and Mary Ann and the rest. Because Jehovah can make up the rules as he goes along, then so can we.


(At the very end of the Percival story that we talked about not-so-long-ago, a monk comes to him and says, “You have changed the laws of God.” This monumental moment in Western literature has often been ignored. You should check it out.)


So by deciding on the passivity or activity of the Ork pantheon, we also decide on the nature of Ork heroes. Are they parts of a great machine, or are they making up their own rules as they go?


The Norse have a very admirable way of dealing with this dilemma. They believe that every man has a choice, but that choice has already been seen by the Fates. In other words, they copped out.


I know how I’m going to handle the problem, and it has a lot to do with the concept of Trouble. In fact, almost all Ork philosophy revolves around that little concept.


But it’s late and my wife is telling me to shut down. Besides, I promised 3000 words. You got that and more.


* * *


Next week, we talk more about Ork philosophy, answer some more questions, figure out what the hell we’re going to do with Warrior-Women.


And go get into some Trouble. A little Trouble does a body good.

Episode 9: Asking for Trouble

December 16, 1999 in Articles

I’ve been trying to think of a cute and clever way to do this, and it just ain’t happening. So, this week, you get it quick and dirty.


After all, we are talking about Trouble.


* * *


See, it all came out of some private e-mail I got when I first started writing this column. Someone asked me if I quit AEG because of the bad reviews 7th Sea got and all the public flack I was taking on the internet.


I said, “No. That’s part of the job. After all, if you create and display your creation in public, you’re asking for trouble.”


That phrase hit me like an ice cube ricocheting around inside my head.


Asking for trouble.


I had to fit that somehow into ORKWORLD. I just had to.


And those three little words changed the direction of the game in more ways than you can imagine. Here’s how it works.


Orks believe that everyone is born with a certain amount of “Trouble”. That is, folks who are born with only a little trouble, they lead pretty mundane, boring lives. Nobody remembers them, but they don’t have to make a lot of hard decisions, either.


On the other hand, Orks who are born with a lot of Trouble, now these are the folks that we remember. These are the folks that live the lives we wish we could lead. Or perhaps, if we knew better, we wouldn’t want anything to do with that kind of life. After all, a life of trouble is a life of pain, suffering, loss and strife. Granted, it’s also a life of challenge, victory and glory. But in the end, you have to measure the pain with the pleasure, right? Right?


That’s the Big Question for Orks. How much Trouble is too much Trouble? How should an Ork deal with Trouble? Is Trouble from the Gods or do we bring Trouble onto ourselves? Big Questions. Character defining questions. I bet the standard gamers could sit around a table “in character” and argue for hours about Trouble.


And that’s the point.


Trouble fills a whole lot of holes for me as a game designer.


1) It lets a player answer questions in his character’s voice.


2) It gives characters something to argue about.


3) It gives me a unique character creation system.


“What character creation system?” you ask.


“Ah ha!” I answer. “This character creation system.”


* * *


I mentioned in last week’s column that the game system had changed. I mentioned that the magic system I talked about last week had something to do with that. It did. But then again, so did Trouble.


Here’s how it changed since last week. And remember, nothing is in stone yet. If you don’t like the change, don’t worry. I still haven’t made up my mind which of these two systems I like better. Hell, maybe I’ll use both.


Remember “Training” and “Skills”? Remember that an Ork can have Warrior Training of 5 and an assortment of Skills under that Training? So, he’d look something like this:


 


5 Warrior


3 Spear


4 Dodge


2 Knife


3 Wrestling


2 Jumping


 


What you do is roll a number of ten sided dice equal to your Training, trying to roll under your Skill. And every die that rolled under your Skill was a Success.


Now, I like that system. But here’s a slight change on it.


Take out the numbers for Training. Instead, only your Skills have numbers. However, whenever you make a roll, your rolling against a Target Number. In this case, the TNs go up to 5.


1 = Easy


2 = Hard (Default TN)


3 = Very Hard


4 = Extremely Difficult


5 = Wow! How the heck did you do that?


The TN is the number of Difficulty Dice the GM throws against your roll. Both you and the GM pick your highest die. If the GM’s die is higher than yours, your action failed.


Got it? Well, here’s how magic works in there.


You got yourself a magic spear. It’s got a Magic Trait. That Magic Trait is “elves”. In other words, a thousand years ago, your ancestor killed “one elf for every day he was alive” with that spear. Whenever you face an elf with that spear, your Magic Trait gives you one extra die to roll.


Now, I was thinking about that this week, and realized that Ork characters can have all kinds of Traits, not just Magic ones.


For instance, an Ork could have a Stubborn Trait that gives him an extra die when folks are trying to talk him out of something. Or, conversely, the GM could use it against him. It’s a double-edged sword.


Any Trait a player picks for his Ork has to be that way. Or, maybe some are double-edged (costing less) and some are just good (costing more) or some are just bad (giving you points back).


This way, an Ork character can have a whole bunch of different Traits without resorting to the very well-used Trait+Skill system that everyone is so familiar with.


But wait! Here comes Trouble.


When you create your Ork, you tell the GM how much Trouble he’s born with. You can have 1-5 Trouble Points per character. Every point of Trouble you take gives you 5 character points to spend on your Ork.


In other words, the more Trouble you take, the more heroic your character is. The less Trouble you take, the less heroic he is.


Now, for every Trouble Point you take, you also get a Trouble Die that the GM keeps behind his screen. Take five points of Trouble, you get yourself five Trouble Dice. The GM can use a number of those Trouble Dice against you every game session. How does he do it?


He he. This is the fun part.


1) After any successful die roll, the GM may choose to roll any number of Trouble Dice (up to your session allotment) and compare the highest roll to your roll. If his roll is higher, your action failed.


2) You know those “default actions” you always get away with? You know, the ones you don’t have to roll for, like chewing bubble gum and walking at the same time? Well, the GM can spend a Trouble Die to screw up any one default action.


3) The GM can spend a Trouble Die to “activate” one of your bad Traits (like “Stubborn”).


Those are the first thoughts off the top of my head. Right now, Trouble Dice look a lot like Drama Dice from 7th Sea, and I’d like them to be a bit different. We’ll have to see where it goes.


However, I do like my buddy Rich’s suggestion that players can “earn Trouble” by arguing about rules, quoting Monty Python, all that kind of disruptive stuff. Disrupt the game, you earn yourself some Trouble.


Oh, and a quick thought just went through my head. What if, when the GM spends a Trouble Die, it goes to the player and he can use it in the opposite way (adding more dice to his roll)? Hm. That could be dangerous, but it’s kinda cool. It does reflect the idea that Trouble works both ways.


So, anyway, that’s Trouble. Jennifer’s eyes lit up when I told her the idea, so I know I’m on the right path. I may be wandering around a bit, but I think I’m moving in the right direction.


Short, dirty and to-the-point this week. That ought to make a few people happy. It’ll disappoint others. Oh well. Trying to make everybody happy is… well, as foolish as trying to make everybody happy.


* * *

Oh! And one last note.


A lot of people wrote to me and commented on the lists about “ritual magic”. A few people asked me if I considered it. A few people assumed I’d dismissed it. Some others assumed I didn’t know what it was. One fellow (or lady) said something very nice (paraphrasing):


“I think John’s message is that ritual is missing the forest for the trees. The power lies in the event, not the recreation of the event.”


That’s pretty close to the mark. I do see the power in ritual, but the problem with so many modern rituals is that we don’t remember what they’re for anymore. I mean, do you know why you stand/sit/kneel at the right time in a Catholic mass?


When people lose the meaning of the ritual, the power is lost. My main point last week was saying that it was the recognition of “Hey! Something’s going on here!” that’s important. It’s the ability to see that, to perceive it that’s important. People perform rituals to remind themselves of events that they’ve witnessed. Performing your great-grandfather’s rituals isn’t the same. You’ve got to have your own moments and perform your own rituals to invoke that power you touched on before. Invoking your parent’s power is difficult because you weren’t there for the initial event. You’re linked to the event in a certain way, but not by default of blood. There has to be some reverence for the ritual, otherwise, the cross is just two pieces of wood and a nail and the blood and body are just wine and bread.


At least, that’s from the Ork point of view.


Thanks for all the questions and feedback, folks. Even if I don’t answer, I do listen.


Oh boy, do I listen.


* * *


Post Script.


(Readers who don’t like to listen to me ramble and can’t believe that mundane events in my life could have anything to do with my state of mind when I design games should stop reading now so they don’t have anything to complain about tomorrow.)


I’m listening to RUSH’s Hold Your Fire album and remembering the concert.


The chorus of the song Prime Mover has the phrase “Anything can happen” chanted over and over. During the concert, the first time Geddy Lee sang that line, the video screen behind the band lit up and the cover of the very first RUSH album swung up into view, all fifty feet wide and fifty feet tall.


Anything can happen.


I was breathless.


Anything can happen.


At that moment, I knew that I could do anything. Anything at all.


One of those moments. Listening to the song again, remembering the moment.


It’s true, folks. Anything can happen.


What does all of this have to do with ORKWORLD?


Its the thought that Trouble ain’t all bad. It’s what drives us, what keeps us going. The desire to be alive. The desire to dream. But to catch those dreams, you gotta chase ‘em. It’s an uphill run, a marathon. More than just a dotted line, more than just a dash.


But that’s a another RUSH song for a another time.


It’s 2 am. Why are you still up? Go to bed.

Episode 15: The Secret is in the Crust, Part Two (and a moment of sheer self-indulgence)

December 10, 1999 in Articles

Episode 14: The Secret is in the Crust, Part One

December 3, 1999 in Articles

You wanna know a writing secret?

First thing you do — before you do anything else — you write
yourself three thousand words a day. Don’t shower, don’t
shave, don’t read the paper, don’t turn on the TV (for God’s
sake, never turn on the TV when you have writing to do) and
don’t don’t don’t read your e-mail.

I made that mistake this morning, and now I’m gonna pay for
it.

This really nice chap calls me up and says, “John, I really
like your column a lot, but you haven’t talked at all about
world development. How did you build Rokugan and Théah and
what theories and/or techniques will you use when building
Orkworld?”

You see, I was all ready to start talking about Ork shamen.
Those wacky half-mad mute boys who speak in a silent
language of body and hand motions. Those guys who are
physical representations of the Ork word for “knowledge”
that translates better as “secret”. I was ready. Then, I
read my e-mail.

And it got me thinking. Thinking about geography, plate
tectonics, water deposits, river ways, forests, deserts,
winter wastelands and soon enough, I had forgotten all about
my beloved half-mad Ork Shamen and had my mind wrapped
around writing up an Orkworld map.

So, nameless person who’s original e-mail I can’t seem to
find (curse you, Trouble!), we’re gonna talk about World
Building 101. At least, how Wick builds worlds. Should be a
journey.

* * *

There’s a couple things you should know about before we go
too deep. I want you to keep these in your head as we move
along because they say a lot about how I design worlds.

1) Both Robert E. Howard and Michael Moorcock never drew
maps for their worlds. The maps you see in their books were
drawn up by fans and friends. They both had a rough sketches
for the lands Conan and Elric were tromping around in, but
neither had a hard grasp on the geography.

2) In the land of Middle Earth, Mordor is surrounded by a
mountain range. A perfectly square mountain range. In the
twenty-one years that I’ve been in this little community of
ours, I’ve never heard anyone (and The Wick means anyone)
complain about it. Not once.

Now, on to development.

* * *

One day early in the development of the L5R card game, Matt
Wilson and I stood in front of a big white sheet and while
he drew out mountains, coastline, rivers and plains, I put
up names and territories. I’ve always been bad at geography
(still am!), but I do know my politics. I developed
political boundaries based on mountains and rivers and at
the last minute, decided that the Crane Clan held a small
portion of the Lion’s land in the north.

To this day, I don’t know what mistakes we made. It looks
right to me. The mountains are set in ranges, they affect
where forests and plains grow and places are colder or
warmer because of them. There are a few fantastic
geographical elements, but the whole place is, generally
speaking, “geographically correct”.

Quite frankly, when I was developing Rokugan, I put very
little thought to the geography. Almost all of my attention
was devoted to the myth structure of its history and
culture. I put things in places that were friendly to the
kind of story I wanted to tell.

Shinomen Forest, for example, is a huge monster forest
filled with animal spirits and other nastiness. It’s a great
place to go adventuring and its put right in a very
inconvenient place on the map… where player characters have
to either go through it, or spend a week or two going around
it.

Beiden Pass is another great example. Rokugan is split down
the center by the “Spine of the World Mountains”, a great
range of impossibly high peaks. The only way to get through
the mountain range is through Beiden Pass. And, of course,
three different Clans claim ownership of that little strip
of land. It is the only way to get from Northern Rokugan to
Southern Rokugan without going a few weeks (maybe even a
month) out of your way. So, when you go through the Pass,
you pay a toll to the Lion Clan (who own the North End) and
when you come out, you pay a toll to the Scorpion Clan (who
own the South End). That means everyone. Every noble, every
merchant, every magistrate, every single person with koku in
their pocket has to pay a toll or they don’t get through.
Wars have been fought over and through Beiden Pass for
centuries, for those who control it control the flow of
trade in Rokugan.

Then, as our development progressed, Dave Williams asked me
a pertinent question.

“Rokugan is one thousand years old?” he asked me.

“Yup,” I answered.

“Literally?” he asked.

“Nope,” I answered.

“But they believe it’s one thousand years old?” he asked.

“Yup,” I answered.

He looked at me with a wry smile and walked away.

A lot of people have wondered “Just how old is Rokugan?”
According to the history books, it’s almost exactly one
thousand years old. However, we all know that a world
doesn’t just pop into being; it develops over hundreds of
millions of years, spending much of that time as molten
rock, slowly cooling. Then, simple life comes into being,
spending another few million years developing into something
complex enough to figure out how to bash his buddy’s head
open with a tool. Then, after a few more million years, he
figures out that instead of using a club, he can develop
weapons that kill from a distance. That’s how worlds
develop.

Not Rokugan. At least, maybe not Rokugan.

But we’ll talk about that at the end. Let’s take a look at
Théah.

* * *

They say that success has many fathers and failure is an
orphan. Well, Théah has got a lot of fathers. Whether she’s
a success or not… we’re still waiting to figure that out.
But a lot of people had input on the development of Théah. A
lot.

It all started with me and Jennifer, sitting at a sushi
restaurant, talking about what I was going to do next. She
suggested Restoration, I thought it was a great idea, we
pitched it to AEG and they bought it.

This is where the fun begins.

First, development slipped right out of Jennifer’s hands
because she wasn’t working for the company quite yet. So,
D.J. Trindle and I started developing what would eventually
become Théah. After many long talks, D.J. convinced me to do
a “pseudo-Europe”, a place that smelled like the continent
across the pond, but had distinct differences. Suddenly,
developing Théah became a kind of game. I read a whole mess
of European history, discussed important events and people
with D.J. (a guy whose library includes every book that Good
Doctor Asimov ever wrote, so you know how well read this guy
is), and started making a Fake Europe.

At this time, Patrick Kapera, Jim Pinto and Kevin Wilson
started getting involved. We threw around tons of ideas for
Théah, but in the end, we decided it should look like
Europe, giving it a distinct familiarity. D.J. cooked up a
3D representation of plate activity to give us a guideline
for geography and everything started moving.

In the end, we had a complete history from Théah’s birth all
the way to the Year of the Prophet 1668. Just enough of
Europe to make it familiar, and just enough of Théah to make
it new.

Two worlds. Two very different approaches. Now you know the
history, let’s talk a little bit about theory.

* * *

There are two ways to develop a world. The first is
Historic, the second is Mythic.

The Historic approach is what we did with Théah. We made a
3D representation of her plates, we wrote thousands of words
on history, we charted her populations, we knew her location
in the solar system, we knew her weather patterns, we even
knew entire civilizations that were born, lived and died
before mankind even took his first step on the beach.
Historic.

Rokugan, on the other hand, is Mythic. Rokugan is one
thousand years old. Her mythology is correct: she was born
from the gods. The Sun and Moon gave names to all the things
in the world, and by naming them, gave them form. Sun gave
birth to children, Moon ate them — except for one — and got
his belly burst for his trouble. Then, all the Children of
Sun and Moon fell to the world and became less than gods,
but more than men. They formed Rokugan’s Clans and started a
cycle that would climax one thousand years later.

Much of Rokugan’s history is impossible. That doesn’t
matter. Myth isn’t concerned with Fact, it’s concerned with
Truth. And, in case you haven’t figured it out, I’m much
more interested with Truth than Fact.

(Sorry, Doctor Jones.)

* * *

I’ll talk about this in more detail next week. We’ll take
closer looks at both Théah and Rokugan, how I chose to
develop both into their current shapes and even spend a
moment or two on how I’d do it differently. Then, we’ll talk
about Orkworld and how I plan on developing her into shape.

Until then, I’ll be unpacking boxes and trying to meet my
February writing deadline. I’m two weeks behind schedule
because of this moving thing.

In the meantime, go check out Orkworld. I’ve got a new Pugg
story up there. You do that and I’ll get cardboard dust in
my lungs.

Take care.

Episode 13: You Are What You Eat

November 20, 1999 in Articles

Sorry I’ve been gone so long. I knew I said I’d come right back home,
but I bumped into this girl and she was so pretty that I just had to walk her
home and when I dropped her off, she said I could kiss her good night…

What was her name?

Writer’s Block.

Been busy, you see.

(Well, this style='font-style:italic'>is Episode Thirteen, isn’t it?)

Busy trying to find a job to replace the last one, busy looking for a
smaller place to replace the existing one, busy packing, busy keeping up on the
housework while my wife goes to work from 8 to 2 then shuffles off to school
from 4 to 11 so she can get a teaching credential, busy writing this column,
busy writing Orkworld, busy writing a novel for AEG, busy writing a column for style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>Pyramid,
busy writing a 10,000 word adventure for Greg Stafford’s Hero Wars, busy writing spec
scripts for Hollywood production companies, busy writing episodes for
television producers to peer over, busy with a nagging cracked tooth that I
don’t have the money to get fixed because I’ve been unemployed for three
months, busy following up on temp agencies trying to find me some work, busy
chasing down freelance writing jobs so I can add $50 a month to the family
income…

Busy. Busy. Busy.

Too busy.

All busy and no money make John very hungry. And not in a good way.

So, in the midst of all this busy, I’ve been looking for a subject to
write about, and not a single thing came into my head.

(Well, this style='font-style:italic'>is Episode Thirteen, isn’t it?)

Then, I realized that all of this misfortune might come from the fact
that I haven’t gotten passed ol’ #13. So, I decided to just sit down and start
writing.

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>A quick word of advice from another writer —
Stephen J. Cannel: “Writers’ Block is trying to be a genious on the first
draft.” Good advice.

I decided to link up the subject matter of this column with the
symbolism of the number thirteen. You know, Bad Luck. But nothing was coming
out of that, so I thought about other meanings that latch on to ol’ #13 and
came up with a great one.

Death.

How do Orks face death? Do they believe in an afterlife? Do they
believe that angels come down and collect their souls? Is there an Angel of
Death?

Lots of different questions, and each answer simply asks more. But, in
either case, here’s the Ork version of death, their rituals, beliefs and
customs, all in one nice little package.

* * *

There are three very important elements of Ork death beliefs, and
unfortunately, they’re all interlinked. That means I have to talk about
elements of each one, skipping back and forth, until you get the whole picture.
Be warned, you may get a little dizzy.

Let’s start with a false preconception. In a whole lot of fantasy
campaigns, Orks eat what they kill, namely humans, elves and halflings.

Orks believe that anything you take on the qualities of anything you
eat. Therefore, eating a dead Elf or Human is taking on the qualities of that
Elf or Human.

Yuch. Who’d want to take on the qualities of a sissified pansy?

So, Orks don’t eat the other races.

But they do eat each other.

Now, keep that in mind for a moment or two while we discuss another
very important Ork death belief: the soul.

Orks believe that every living thing has a soul. Trees, birds, cattle,
and even humans, elves, dwarves and halflings have souls. When a body dies, it
grows cold. Orks believe this is the soul leaving the body. In winter (the
season of death), if you cut a body open, you can actually see the soul escaping the
body (the steam of the 98 degree shell suddenly escaping into the cold, cold
air). Therefore, when an Ork dies, it is very important to keep that body warm
in order to preserve the soul here, rather than going on into the afterlife.

“Why would they do that?” you ask. “Don’t Orks want to go to the
afterlife?”

Well, no. They don’t.

That’s not exactly true, they style='font-style:italic'>want to go to the afterlife, but that’s
not where Ork souls go. Rather, Ork souls go to a great toad calld Gorlam, the
guardian of the afterlife. Gorlam was put there by the other races to make sure
no Ork ever got into the afterlife. It eats any Ork soul that tries to get
through those pearly gates, and will continue to do so until a great Ork hero
dies and his soul cuts open Gorlam’s belly, freeing all the Ork souls it
devoured. Then, the liberated Orks, led by the hero, will storm across the
lands of the afterlife and take back what is rightfully theirs.

In the meantime, Orks keep their bretheren from going to the afterlife
by eating their own. When an Ork dies, his brothers do anything they can to
keep his body warm. They wrap him up in blankets lined with hot coals and bring
him back home so he can be prepared by the women and eaten by the men — as well
as the mother; she gets the first piece. This way, the fallen Ork’s strengths
will pass on to his brothers and his mother, and when they die, their innate
and inherited strengths will pass on to those who eat them.

By the way, this little practice is called “swollowing”, and the Ork
word for it is dravur (drah-vur).

When Orks kill their enemies — you know who you are — they dig big
ditches and big fires. Then, they fill the ditches with red hot coals and dump
the bodies of their enemies in the ditches. Then, they bury them. Orks believe
this act will keep the soul in the body, thus preventing it from going on to
the afterlife.

When an Ork mother dies, she is eaten only by the maidens who serve
her. Ork warriors do not eat the flesh of mothers. However, a tribe’s mother
always eats the first piece of a fallen Ork warrior (whenever possible). This
way, she can take his strength within herself and pass it on to future children.

Obviously, this little feasting ritual can only be accomplished under
the best circumstances. Often times, great Ork heroes die and their souls pass
on to the afterlife because there isn’t an opportunity to bring him back to the
tribe. This is a great tragedy for Ork tribes, and one that is often marked
with sorrow.

So, that’s Ork death beliefs and customs. Now, let’s see how those
customs translate into rules.

* * *

When an Ork eats one of his brothers, he inherits the strengths of his
fellow Ork. This means that he inherits Traits from his bretheren, depending on
what part of him he ate. Eating an Ork’s heart, and reserved only for a mother
or a trusted friend.

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>Eating an Ork heart confers any one Trait
from that Ork’s character sheet; player’s choice.

Eating an Ork’s hands and arms confer the qualities of his strength and
martial prowess.

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>Eating an Ork’s hands or arms give you one of
his Warrior Skills.

Eating an Ork’s legs and feet confer speed and agility.

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>Likewise, eating his legs or feet gives you 1
bonus die on all defense rolls.

Eating an Ork’s stomach is like eating the heart. After all, the
stomach retains everything that the Ork has ever eaten. However, it’s a little
risky…

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>Eating an Ork’s stomach gives you a random
Trait from the Ork, even if it’s Trouble.

You get the idea.

“But John, what about Orks who get eaten without the ritual?”

Ah, that’s a good question.

There’s always the jealous, the envious and the evil who would murder
their brothers to gain their Traits. Orks who commit murder then eat their
brothers to steal their Traits gain themselves quite a bit of Trouble. While
they do gain strength, they also gain a nasty curse… which is different for
each Ork.

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>Here’s an example of Player/GM knowledge. Why
not put the benefits of murder in the players’ section and the drawbacks in the
GM section? Hm. Sounds yummy to me.

* * *

And then there’s Ork death magic. You know, the kind that’s used by
witches. Those nasty little girls who don’t have the stuff to become mothers.

Ork witches use anatomy to empower their magic. The stronger the
anatomy, the stronger the magic.

They can “throw Trouble” around like nobody’s business. They can see
far away places with Ork eyes and they can fly using the intestines of Ork boys
who haven’t gone through the ritual of manhood yet. Lots of nasty bits.

face=verdana> style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt'>Which reminds me, if you haven’t seen the
movie
Warlock style='font-style:italic'>, go do so right now. My wife — the B-movie buff —
introduced it to me shortly after we started dating and it hooked me right up.
Rob V. and I used the witch hunter in that movie as the basis for Kuni witch
hunters in
Way of the Crab style='font-style:italic'>. Lots of good stuff in that flick. Four stars. John
Bob says, “Check it out.”

* * *

All right. I’m back in the saddle. I’m ready to go back into Orkworld
full swing. This has been very helpful for me. I hope its been entertaining for
you.

Stay busy, but not style='font-style:italic'>too busy.

Too busy gets you nothing but Trouble.

Episode 12: Where We’ve Been and Where We’re Going

November 8, 1999 in Articles