Excerpt from unpublished lyrics

(C) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis

Autumnal flame on every tree
Winter came and now flees
Spring and shower turning green
Summer cinder fields of me

250 Word Porphyry: World of The Burn fiction

ChronoBankCount: 1A:2.795345653661875 :: 255.25/365.25

CBC$: 0.6986301369863014

> [Aeryx] HeyO, wot2do?

< [me] Watch Red Death

> [Aeryx] Wot?

< [me] The Star-thing

> [Aeryx] DaComet?

< [me] >..<

> [Aeryx] 4Real?

< [me] I'll B on Mulholland

> [Aeryx] stoopid

The repulsor blimps continue unabated in their recruitment slogan for the Offworld Colonies, now adding the promise of Independence in a Century after establishment.  Hmm, let's see, thousands of years to arrive, if lucky enough, and then a ship's clock counts down for independence from what?  A burnt and shattered pile of biomass smeared like a comet in what was Terra's orbit?  Uh, yeah.

Public transport had collapsed in my youth, and the roadways were littered with the irredeemable refuse of burnt and wrecked autos and trucks all the way up the hill.  In years past, gangs and scavs would lurk up there waiting for youth and derelicts to seek adventure and the end respectively, and oblige both instincts.

Now, most everyone up there were skeletons, and the few alive were Fire-cultists; I was almost out of Social Credits, and was seeking the old way out, but open to see things from their crazy perspective.  It took hours to crest the heap atop the hill, and everything was wind-whistle quiet; the city below was ablaze in tortured orange and black, pierced by silver searchlights and tracer fire walked along the pulverised asphalt into the ever-growing crowd of the insane and half-dead.

I Looked up as if by remote control, saw it, and heard the Call: "I've come home to roost, Lupe, won't you let me in?"

Auldgoryan Witchcraft, parte the seconde

Between guitaring, lyricing, music theory and watching gaming grow apart from the D&D IP-owners, I continue to work on Auldgory.

Here is some more on Auldgoryan Witchcraft.

CASTING-

Witchcraft, as a Sympathetic system, requires implements and incantations.  Implements which are tied to the symbolic relationship with the subject and object of the spell.  In one system: Air is represented by a Blade used to stir the air, and as a symbol of rulership (and lightning) -- this blade is the Witch's trusty Athame; Water is represented by a Chalice; Fire is represented by a Staff or Wand; Earth by a metal or stone Talisman.  In this system, Invocations to the four elements in the cardinal directions (different by tradition and coven) while ritually presenting each of the Implements focuses the power of the caster(s) into the desired outcome, and this enacted Symbolism is not merely lip service, but rather the Witch acting at their rung on the ladder, co-operating with the cosmic synergy: 'the power is rising'.

[] Alchemy: A ritual Alchemical casting is used to produce Potions (including Inks), or, to imbue a Magic Item with powers like the spell.

[] Thaumaturgy: A ritual Thaumaturgical casting is used to perform fantastical and spectacular displays of power, where the volume of display diminishes the power, so that a large number of people in a given area would witness a light display full of terrible sounds, but using the same amount of power, a single target could be reduced to smouldering remains with no indication of outside influence.  Casting against targets, as discussed above, invokes the sympathetic reaction on a basic roll of 9- on 3d6, but the light and sound display not being cast against targets would not be subject to the rule.

[] Theurgy: A Theurgical rite is essentially prayer to the Cosmos to enact the invocation as stated, or as the Cosmos best needs perform the Work to maintain its Weave.  If the rite is hostile, the Rule of 9 is in effect, and the Witch who fails thus will know that the backlash is due, sooner or later.  Again, the F# is the Effect upon the Witch or Ally; if the rite was to directly smite a target, the Witch will be struck by the same effect, whereas if the rite was intended to cause woe against an ally of the target for purposes of spite, then the most closely-resembling peer in the life of the Witch will instead suffer the effect to F# degree.

Should the Witch have the prescribed implements, know the appropriate invocations, and have the time to perform the ritual casting, the player controlling the figure may then roll their dice at Favour and add-in the appropriate Ability Score and other circumstantial modifiers.  If the resultant total equals or exceeds the GM-assigned Target Number, the spell has been successfully cast.
Failure usually only results in lost time and any expended resources.  However, the 9- die total rule is enforced if the casting is directed _against_ a target ('Against' means to harm).  On this miscast result, any said resources are consumed, the casting time spent, and the result is instead visited upon the Witch and/or their Coven or other significants to a degree based upon Failure Margin from 10.  Thus, if on the 3d6, the controlling player rolled a 07, the Margin of Failure is F03.  Simply, each 03 or fraction thereof, inflicts one Effect-step upon the Witch or allies.

O/A/D&D Saving Throws: Energy Type; Alternate Method

Saving Throws & Damage

This originally came to me in a 3.x, three-category saves model, but since Hasbro is doing this to us, -- instead, here is the O/AD&D version.

TL;DR Takeaway: fast, flexible, player-facing damage/effect determination.

When a power word, or glyph, or similar energy effect (MA/GW) confronts a character, the appropriate D&D type Save is attempted.  On a success, the figure takes one-half their Save Number (or none, depending upon the specifics determined by the DM), whereas failure results in the character's full Save number.

Both the Save number and the resultant damage can be modified independently so as to lower the number, but increase damage on a failure, or conversely, to increase the number but cap the maximum damage sustained, or any combination thereof.

Challenges to the premise are welcome.  :D

The ARGUS2 system by Alternate Reality Games, is not now, nor has it ever been OGL/SRD

Hi,

Yeah.  Having read, The Prince, at 13, I was never going to trust the OGL to keep my IP, mine.

So, I'm hoping to work with Old School publishers (perhaps you?) to bring the ARGUS2 system to the OS community, for their consideration.  I'll need to make it officially Open, and, Irrevocable (at least while I draw breath).

My plan is to release a Character Sheet which literally illustrates the system and its muto-chimeric heritage, as well as its applicability to any/no genre.

Ever-vigilant: ARGUS2

DCC/MCC AULDGORY: Easternmost Signal Fire

Hmm.

I think I may have been disinvited as DCC/MCC GM; no one showed, and the store guy seemed a little gleeful to inform me nothing was scheduled for tonight.

Its too bad.  I had just spent two days detailing the PCs' families, shared homeland, and developing background events.  The PCs were to report to Outpost; Firerook with their findings regarding the mass death at the Lybrti Garden.

Outpost: Firerook is the Easternmost Signal Fire, the network of which spreads across the Rockies-analogue.  It is located in Westera Tribal lands, Goat Hill Clan, which has just recently been nine-fold decimated in an attack the surviving leader blames on the Elder Warmage in charge of the outpost.

That surviving leader of Goat Hill Clan is the mother of the Merchant-Healer PC CBR.  She had given her son to be raised in the east to her lover, a foreign volunteer not seeking citizenship.  His father is a Durnsman, from that Hoary Stock of peoples from the First World Age, Lazman Hazeh.

On another side of the mountain, in Port Quema, the lush rainforest mountain backing the lagoon traps sea-mist along a mix of deciduous and coniferous trees and tall shrubs.  Quema is teeming with fish and crustaceans as well as unknown alien and mutant life thought delectable.

The HWO (Heavy Weapons Operator) has his origins here, and his mother still lives here operating as an assassin under cover as a fishwife and fry-cook.  She's supernaturally beautiful, luminous. and applies makeup to appear more plain and normal.  She can party like a god, and loves to do so, and was not a very present parent.  His father was a foreign sailor, who left the boy a carved sea serpent on a sharkskin leather thong.  Mom took him to the youth training centre, knelt, and told him in broken Starspeak, 

    "Remember son, to the sea always be true."

She then gave him the necklace and handed him over to the trainers.

On the third side of the mountain, nestled between sea-breeze and runoff-fed tributaries and forested dells, and the rain shadow of the mountain with three names, a herder and ranching people are the origins of the GRN PC.  His father was a Lt. in the First Western Cav (W^1st), lost in the Moorwraith Wars which don't receive much press back East.  Further, PC's brother, also a Cavalryman, was recently reported MIA in another Moorwraith conflict over Ancient Auldgoryan ruins.

The PC had a dream the night of the fight with the zombie-shepherd where they both had been transported bodily to some weird chaeotheric realm.  In the dream his brother was calling to him from a tower shrouded in mist.

Ah, well, just more fodder for the setting.

DCC/MCC AULDGORY Session at local shop

 Yeah, gaming stuff.

#DCC #MCC #Auldgory

Used my Auldgory setting for the DCC/MCC mashup/

At least two of the three gents seemed happy with it; third looked tired from work.

o 15 year old, Squire (attached to a Lt.), from Merchant background, with a Mental Domination spell-like-power (one of the _Ways_).  He's the CBR -- Combat Rifleman.  Blooded into the Ayqon's Inquisitors, after absorbing the Agony Runes -- he's capable of sharing the agony with others.

o 19 year old, Squire, Ranching background, don't think we got around to his power.  He's a GRN -- Grenadier, bloop-tube-style, carrying 40 grenades of various loads.  Blooded into Bledra's Bladedancers, where he had to navigate a timed obstacle course and bound a Moorwraith's dagger to himself.  This becomes _Important_.

o 21 year old, almost a Private, Sea-Fisher background, HWO -- Heavy Weapons Operator (in this case, a 'mini-zooka') carrying 3 or 5 rockets, and armed with a pistol.  Blooded into Wraicastle's Rooks, where he was subject to 'extended interrogation.'  Success saw him first branded, and then tattoo'd with the Raven.

The leader of the three was given the option to perform a mission in the East, or one atop the southernmost peak of the Lashan ranges, or, one out West, heading further West upon completion.  He chose the last.

They encounter a shepherd of zombies, she, glowing with a faint blue-white light, an apparent Half-Moorwraith.  She contacted the CBR while he dozed in the carriage as it sleet outside.  ~"We are coming, do not resist."~ Some of the zombies are their compatriot Banner Ranks personnel.

The next few days are uneventful, and these are not the players to play through Fellowship-phase activities, so we FF to the point where the carriage can no longer move West for the terrain, and ask to be permitted to fall-back to the first Fort West of the Lashans, 'We Made It!' (yes, I used it) if the PC didn't return in 3 days.

Day 1-

GRN killed an Outlier girl sight unseen firing a grenade from an underground loading bay after the girl made noise and cursed herself for it and then ran off -- but, alas, she went excite all over the Ancient site.

10 Fam then rushed to her, and the PCs cursed the day, and I broke the 4th Wall to offer a do-over, and they accepted.

Day 1 (redux)-

This time they went to the village first, then met, Dabos, whom I described as looking like the actor who plays MCU Loki.  He was pretty obviously not only foreign, but anachronistic, wearing an amazing suit, with a talking wristwatch.  Dabos gave them permission to take the 'softwood' boxes, and even ordered his locals to transport them to the Carriage who drove the firearm parts back East.

They then headed out and encountered a Lybrti Garden, normally established behind a wall, but this one looking intentionally grown in this open space.  Motherists build these FoB/Altars from which Lybrti is better able to effect Her power.  Climbing atop the mound where the altar is situated, they spot dead troopers and a few in civvies.

After collecting weapons and charge packs, the PCs don't rifle through personal effects, instead burning their bodies to deny the shepherd more flock.  Sure enough she arrives and is angered that they have done this, the GRN throws his Ghost-dagger and strikes her in the upper torso, and as he rushes her to drive it further, they are both transported to some aetheric somewhere with floating ruins amid a breathable gel of differing densities lending hues with each level.  Moorwraith begin to appear and the PC withdraws the blade and he returned to normalspace entirely bleached white, including all he carried.  He now has a ghostly scent of paper smoke and lavender which follows and moves around him.

We held it there, and I awarded them 02 XP toward their 10 for 1st Level.