Contracts of Uniform: Changeling the Lost

I thought I'd showcase one of the Contract sets we wrote up and use for the Changeling the Lost campaign. This one focuses on the idea of the Changeling putting on a role. The mechanics below are from the homebrew system we're using to play Changeling, but I'm sure those could be easily adapted to the originally nWoD mechanics.

Contracts of Uniform

Social; Affinity: Wizened

A uniform is the oldest of mundane transformations; it remains among the most powerful, instantly communicating role, affiliation, skills, responsibilities, and entitlements to those of even passing familiarity with the costume. The Wizened possess a particular affinity to these Contracts, having given over their selves to role and duty in order to survive their durance. The catches are very duty-driven and structured by the nature of Uniform itself (which takes itself very seriously). While the Contracts can be used for masquerading, they are generally more useful for improving performance over the long haul for those uniformed as a given profession or affiliation.

Note that Uniform is stodgy--it is slow to accept elements as uniform for professions or roles that are individualistic in nature. Those attempting to use the uniform of an Artist, for example, need to either acquire a signature piece of clothing from an established artist or to establish themselves over a number of years in order to use their own "look" as uniform. Similarly, Junior League or other social groups that are identified more by a shared socio-economic status and uniform adoption of certain fashions can be infiltrated by the Contracts, but typically require acquiring something from an established member and paying the greater Glamour costs for a period until the Changeling has established themselves as a member.

Unlike many other Contracts, the default length of a Contract of Uniform may be either dawn/dusk, dusk/dawn or a given shift if the Uniform is related to a profession.

Wear it Well (•) (role)

The given uniform fits perfectly, as if tailored for the Changeling spending the glamour. Alternately this contract may be invoked to make the uniform appear spotless and in good repair. Both uses may be applied to the uniform, but the Catch will only negate the Glamour cost for one use in a given dusk/dawn or shift cycle. A Changeling whose Durance has transformed their mien to a uniform never pay Glamour for this Contract.

Cost: 1 Glamour

Catch: The uniform has been assigned to the Changeling as part of their duties.

Uniformity (••) (affiliation)

The most powerful quality of any uniform is that it identifies the wearer as a member of a designated group. This contract smooths over any problems with the Changeling's individuality, giving them the ability to understand and speak the jargon (not the language--if the group is speaking a different language, the Changeling will need more help than this contract) of the group and extending an aura of familiarity between group and the Changeling. If Changeling's mask differs well outside norm of group, cost is double in order to alter Changeling's appearance to eliminate differences in expectations: gender, gradations or types of beauty (or lack thereof), relative appearance of fitness, youth, age, ethnicity, etc. Double the cost again if the group is not one that wears at least some standard variations of a uniform--a name badge, corporate logo casualwear or a letter jacket do qualify as uniform--everyone dressed in Abercrombie & Fitch does NOT.

Cost: 1 Glamour (x2 for alterations to appearance) (x2 for non-uniformed group)

Catch: This is the first time interacting with the group for the Changeling--and the group DOES wear a uniform.

Complete the Look (•••) (responsibilities)

With only a piece of a given uniform--hat, shoes, shirt, badge--the Changeling can choose to appear as if dressed in the complete uniform. Double costs if uniform comes with standard issue equipment like gun or tool belt with tools and Changeling expects them to be usable rather than just ornamental. Changeling must have seen complete uniform at some point.

Cost: 2 Glamour (x2 for functional conjurations)

Catch: Changeling is inserting themself into a dangerous or hectic situation in order to quell panic or restore order.

This Means Something (••••) (skills)

For Changelings who have made the Contracts of Uniforms, nothing is more valuable than experience in carrying off the effect. Both the Changeling's experience with the duties associated with the uniform and the experience of a previous wearer of some piece of the uniform determine the strength of the effects of this Contract. For this reason, old uniform pieces once worn by veterans of any given group are extremely valuable to the Changeling who wishes to possess an expertise beyond their own experience. However, a Changeling who invests any amount of time in a role can use this contract to quickly become impeccable in representing the role of the uniform.

Essentially, every 7 years of experience (sum of the Changeling's and that of the veteran who once wore some part of the uniform) translate to

...minimum: Knowledge: (role, affiliation, skills, responsibilities, and entitlements)

...minimum (1): 1 associated Skill that the Changeling does not currently possess (chosen)

...minimum (+1 bump): Advantage: Intuition-- (gives bumps on deciding which course of action to take next)

Hence a Changeling who has never worked as a security guard but who puts on badge once owned by a twenty-five year veteran of the profession will have Knowledge: Security Guard, 3 skills to call upon that they did not otherwise have and a +3 to make the correct decision on how to proceed as a Security Guard. This is typically sufficient for faking it. (The first use of that Intuition: Security Guard should probably be employed on deciding which 3 skills are going to help you most...)

A Changeling who is wearing their own uniform is always getting an additional effect to add to their own experience--and has the given bumps on making decisions and additional skills beyond those they've already mastered. Experience with similar duties can carry over (i.e. experience as a Nurse will partially add to the sum if the Changeling takes to masquerading as a Doctor).

A Changeling may also use this contract to determine the value (for the purposes of this contract) of any number of uniform elements they can touch within a dawn/dusk or dusk/dawn cycle. The Glamour expenditure for this use may never be by discounted by a Catch.

Cost: 3 Glamour

Catch: Changeling is wearing complete uniform, has used at least one other Contract of Uniforms at full Glamour cost within the last 12 hours and has not worn any other uniform than this one within those 12 hours--alternately, the Changeling's mien is the Uniform being enhanced.

The Uniform Makes the Man (•••••) (entitlements)

Uniform does not give it's gifts away easily. Only the most advanced Contract automatically confers the full trust and and access to entitlements appropriate to the Uniform. The Changeling becomes that which she wears—it is extremely difficult to convince anyone otherwise, especially because people tend to react to the sense of familiarity as "I've seen this here before--I know it.". Identification and security issues are very likely to be put aside. Changeling has full access to whatever areas, information or gatherings that the most trusted of the group are allowed, provided that access is controlled by people--electronics are a good deal less impressed. However, it is fairly easy to get someone to bypass those measures for you, since you are clearly supposed to be there.

Cost: 2 Glamour

Catch: Changeling is gaining revenge on or tricking those who wear the same Uniform but have not paid proper respect to the duties and responsibilities of the Uniform

Five Mookish Thoughts

Get Them!
This week I’m crushing some Mooks, Minions, Henchmen, Flunkies, Toadies, Extras and the like underfoot. In this, I’ll be pointing to a geeklist on RPG Geek by inestimable Aramis, bringing together all of the various RPGs which provide a special mechanic for mooks.

Mooks in the Rules

It is interesting to trace the evolution of those mechanics from some simple rules to a kind of key concept in many games. In our group we’ve become so adjusted that one of the first questions in a fight is which are mooks and which are named bad guys. It isn’t that the players ignore the mooks, but that some build their characters to be able to clear house on them and plan accordingly.

So in accordance with prophecy, I bring you five thoughts inspired by the idea of Mooks. Just as Mooks serve as abridged adversaries, I will attempt to be brief...

Every few sessions a GM ought to look back and consider how the game is actually played at the table. What gets left out? What gets avoided? What gets changed significantly? Certainly with our own homebrew, I’ve tried to assess those elements. I have to ask myself several questions when I hit dropped parts: who is forgetting them? what, if anything, has moved in to take the place of those rules? would the game play be improved significantly if I moved to bring those back up front?

I suspect Mook rules, as formally written, probably arose out of that kind of reflection. A GM finally said "You know what, I keep hand waving these little things aside, we could figure out a better and more consistent way to handle them." If you’re playing from rules you wrote, then that ought to be a sign for changes. If you’re playing from existing rules, you can talk about that with the group. You may be able to clear that from your mental inventory and not worry about it. On the other hand, you might find that someone’s built their character on that ignored element- so perhaps it ought to be brought back or the play could be given a chance to respec.

I played in from the White Box 1970’s version of D&D. We didn’t have mooks, but I remember skeletons and kobolds serving that role in early D&D. Mostly in the games which only loosely adhered to the rules- we we’re kids after all. I do recall that giant rats, though, could never be considered nuisance creatures. Those things were dynamite. I think that’s why you start out fighting them in various MMORPGs- a measure of revenge against how nasty they could be at the tabletop. Legendarily I recall hearing that killing a Kobold was seven-years bad luck, but we suspected that was Koboldish propaganda.

If you’ve played a lot of games with mooks (or some synonym) then moving to a game without the them can be quite a shift. GMs can play off of that to provide a narrative contrast. Consider games which want to have a dangerous and risky feel to them. Anyone with a gun ought to be a significant threat. Everyone can take a few shots or else everyone can be killed with a single blow. Rolemaster had a little of that but tied up In crazy randomness and over the top weird. I remember the first time I played the video game Bushido Blade. I’d never been great at fighting games, but I liked them. I could hold my own for at least a little while. Then I played that and "snick"...cut down like bamboo. Again another tangent, but related. In Alfred Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain, Paul Newman’s character struggles with an enemy agent. At this scene goes on and on- it takes forever for Newman to kill and it is brutal. Not gory, but just awful and visceral. Just as that’s Torn Curtain offers a contrast with Hitchcock’s other films with easy, "clean' deaths (like the scissors from Dial M for Murder), games without Mooks can contrast those with them.

4. One reversal of the Mook process is to have the players as the Mooks. Hence the premise of my own rpg, Witless Minion! (available for download here). There’s a certain goofy pleasure to have the PCs playing the background characters, the Redshirts or Stormtroopers of a setting. Of course, the PCs know what’s coming so they’d be in full survival and protection mode. The question is how to make the PCs actually have some powers. Witless Minion and Mouse Guard both do it with the idea having to take alternate routes to reduce the powers, efficacy and abilities of really significant opponents. Badgers can really kill mice, so they have to be smarter than the badgers, have to use other resources available. GMs could also borrow a page from White Wolf’s Orpheus and Hunter: The Vigil. In the former, the PCs have moderate mystical abilities, none of which is particularly potent. However, they can combine those abilities with fellow PCs with different powers. This creates really powerful effects. I like the idea of the underdogs having to overcome through teamwork. Likewise, Hunter IIRC has team "powers" which can be bought and trained.

The other thing to consider about this reversal. Technically any Call of Cthulhu game is like this. When it comes to the Old Ones, or even the Not So Old Ones, any PC looks like a Mook.

I recall when I first explicitly said I was going to use a version of Mook rules in our GURPS campaign. Basically, players would always do double damage to a mook. That changed the play at the table and allowed me to throw many adversaries at the group. But most importantly, players ended up with a feeling of satisfaction. They were able to clear out several opponents in the course of a fight. If one took longer, that one felt more significant. I think, honestly, that’s the best reason to use and apply these kinds of rules- to give everyone at the table in a combat a chance to show off, to clear swathes, to be able to pull a dead model off the table.

Cascade Failure: RPGs I Like

What Is It?
A far-future post-apocalypse interstellar sci-fi game.

Introduction
I've entered a lot of items into the RPG Geek database. I have a fondness for that kind of crunchy, mindless work as a break between tasks. One of the things I do is cruise through the various new rpgs offerings on RPGNOW. If I haven't heard of something, I follow it back. Sometimes I find and can put in obscure stuff in. Sometimes it is amzing- that’s how I stumbled on the stuff from Flying Mice Games like On Her Majesty's Arcane Service and In Harm's Way. Sometimes, however, it can be depressing. When you find a product which the author seems to have taken no care with. And I don’t mean illustrations- those can be hard to find and some people have done much layout, so I have some forgiveness on that score. But when I read something that has a blurb that gives the reader no idea what it is, when I look at the introduction and there’s even less of it and the whole thing reads like someone output the contents of the 7th Grade game notes...I have to wonder if they’ve ever actually looked at a game. Thankfully those moments are the rare extreme...and sometimes the absolute opposite happens.

Dark Horse Game Design
I was going through group image moderation process (geekmod) on RPG Geek, when I spotted a set of covers pass through a few weeks back. I hadn’t seen them before and the covers looked intriguing. One of them, Statecraft, seemed like it might fit into my list on games covering communities and societies. So I looked at the entry and tracked it back to this website. I figured I’d find a preview and perhaps, if it looked good, I’d order a copy. Then I realized that the author had put the whole of that game in a beta version up for free on his site. And not just that one, but several others. And what he calls beta, I’d call amazingly high quality production.

Greg Christopher’s games are currently available as free pdfs. Now in your head you might be going- "oh, they’re free pdfs." Let me make this clear- they are brilliant pieces, better looking than a lot, if not most of the small-press for profit rpg publishers you can find on pdf sales sites. And I don’t mean that as a knock against them, but rather a statement about the high quality of this. In the case of Cascade failure, we have a 88 page (landscape, two page columns)full-color and heavily illustrated piece. The layout’s excellent and the artwork is dynamite. Christopher’s commissioned work from artists- it is some of my favorite sci-fi art. If I have any real criticism on this front, it is that the game is generally well written and a good, sure-handed editor could take it up to the next level. Though you wouldn't know it from my writing, I've worked as an editor. I found myself hitting a few places where I thought "this could be even better if....". That being said, the writing's in most places well above other products of its kind I have seen.

Premise
Cascade Failure presents a stand-alone and complete rpg. The premise is a future interstellar society hs been rocked by a massive war. Though brief, that war killed off great numbers and more importantly destroyed a great deal of the societal infrastructure. That destruction has a ripple effect- the cascade failure of the title. Transport and communication broke down, trade and commerce halted and societies who had been absolutely dependent on resources from those systems collapsed as well, setting off further chains. In the end 95% of all humans and 60+% of alien species die in the fallout from the great War. Planetary societies decay and revert or die out.

The game takes up in the far aftermath of those events. Few remain who remember the actual events of those days. Some planets and systems have managed to rebuild slightly, or have sustained themselves at a considerably lower level. Now some have begun to travel out into the "wilderness" of space. They might be explorers, they might be searching for something their people needs to survive or they might have other reasons. The PCs take up those roles. It is a classic motif- with the group heading out into the dangerous and untamed lands. In some ways, it feels like a mash-up of all the classic old-school games. Imagine throwing D&D, Boot Hill, Gamma World and Star Frontiers together. It’s a pitchable setting and a compelling idea with a lot of room for the GM to build to their ideas.

Disclaimer
I generally pick up rpg materials to look at what I can borrow adventure, hook, character, setting and story-wise. I look at the mechanics to see if they have interesting ideas to borrow for our homebrews or if they’re novel enough for an experimental play (Dread, Time & Temp and Fiasco all fall in this category). I just want that up front before I run through the mechanics presented here.

The Game Itself
Cascade Failure offers a complete rpg system. It feels very Old-School to me- interesting details, complete resolution that doesn’t shout about being complete, lines and paths for the PCs which remain open enough that the players can pin an interesting story on their concept. The game makes of point of defining proactive responses (governed by attributes and skills) and reactive responses (governed by saving throws) for player choices.

After the three pages of setting and system set-up, the game moves into Character Creation (opening with a nice, clean checklist). Characters have the classic six attributes (Str, Dex, etc) rolled using a 3d6 method with options for too low total rolls. Players assign those rolls. Players then choose a species from the six possible (including human). Each has certain advantages and limits (such as an EXP penalty). These are nicely defined on a page each with superb illustrations. Next players choose a class from the eight possible (Empath, Solider, Outlaw, etc). These provide Hit Dice, Class Skills, Saves, Money, Special Abilities and so on. As with the species, Christopher does a nice top presenting them and making them equally attractive. After figuring out the effects of class choices, players choose ambitions- an interesting detail, but without a mechanical function. On the other hand, players also assign points to "impulses" which do have some mechanics behind them. Players split seven points among Consensus, Adherence, and Efficiency. The GM may then use those as a bonus or penalty during play when the situation reflects that morality. It isn’t a "compel" system but does offer some legislated morality to the game. The player gets to choose, however. It reminds me of the Virtues systems from Exalted, Pendragon and Ars Magica, but handled in an even more efficient and streamlined way. Character creation finishes with other details (armor class, HP, exp and levels and so on). This whole section takes up a little under thirty pages.

Weapons and Armor come next, ten pages with a variety of PC-classic items. The equipment is presented generically which makes sense given the size of the setting universe. The Life Among the Ruins section which follows goes over the basic mechanics of the game: movement, survival, encumbrance, etc. having that come first in the section does send a message about the kind of survival action the game wants to play out. Standard combat gets two pages of rules. That’s a refreshing change of pace from other games. An eight-page section covering Technology follows, which looks at the main technologies of the ruined setting and the complexity of them. Vehicles ride up next- treated in a more descriptive rather than highly detailed approach over eight pages. Given that vehicle building and the like usually turns me off, I appreciated this. The rules provide vehicle combat mechanics, but I suspect gamers who like crunch will want to bolt on some additional systems to this.

The rules move to more background in an eight-page section suggesting optional "factions" for the GM. These are groups with various differing agendas operating in the Cascade Failure universe. We end with a seven page section of lightly described psychic "gifts." The finish is a nicely laid out two-page character sheet.

Overall
I think there are three ways to look at this:

1. If you’re looking for setting material and ideas, this is useful. There’s enough here that you could easily run a campaign with these rules or elsewhere. It isn’t fully fleshed out, but I think that’s a real strength. Christopher doesn’t close anything off. Instead he manages to capture the excitement of the OSR products by providing a cool premise and the tools to play in that. And I say that even though I’m not an OSR guy- I haven’t gone back to play those, but this work does push me to start thinking about that.

2. If you’re looking for a sci-fi ruleset you can pick up and play based on having played other rpgs, then it’s a good choice. It has an interesting spin on sci-fi. It is a minimal system, with enough detail to satisfy, but also requiring the GM to do some figuring out and adjudicating. Again, this is a reading review, but I’d be interested to see how if plays at the table.

3. As an example of how to do game layout and design- it is pretty fabulous. Any amateur game designer ought to consider this an example of what to strive for, on many levels.

I really suggest everyone go and take a look at this game, and his other ones. Christopher's doing amazing work. Amazing.

Portability
The basic concept of the setting is a good one- and actually takes away some of the issues I have with Empire-spanning sci-fi games. I like the idea of such a game being survival and "wilderness" oriented. I think the setting concepts here, light as they are on mechanics could be used elsewhere.

The Last Fleet: Exodus (Session One)

I've worked on and thought about this campaign for the last several weeks and we finally had session one. You cna find the lead up entries for this under the keyword "Last Fleet." PC names are in bold the first time they appear, NPCs in bold and italics. Ship names are in italics. I'm just going to apologize in advance for the tense shifts.

SESSION ONE
I’d laid set up the basic premise of the story over the past couple of weeks for the players- but written large, and now we came to the details of the thing. The people’s had been scattered by the Landfall. They stood now in the final days, on what ships they could find, pursued by the forces of Lord Sunforge. Among those scattered ships and peoples, rumors emerged of a way to go beyond the Stormwall, and so some flew desperately to a rendezvous, through dangerous and turbulent skies to the end of the world.

The camera pans in from among the constant thunderheads and clouds which roil from the stormwall. Waves of rain and the crackly of thunder, bolts of lightning illuminating the scene. We draw closer in on a dot, which resolves itself into a floating fortress. This was once a beacon post for the dwarves who surveyed the Stormwall. A flying longboat has pulled up to the dock of this ancient and decayed tower. In the rain and storm a party of Namir, cat-people, pour out and disperse along the walkways and stairs. They are led by Lira Moondawning. Their task is to pack magicite into the fortress- to create a magical bomb which might be used to slow Sunforge’s forces should they approach. Lira deals with the Arcanist Rodol Faithjester, who is to her eye perhaps a little rougher with the dangerous elements than she would like. Lira heads to the top of the tower as preparations are being made. As she watches, she makes out shapes approaching in the clouds. She has to decide- rush to prepare the explosion or hold off and perhaps lose the chance. She decides to wait- a lucky decision as it turns out- she see the last group of White Elf Wyvern Riders flying at top speed to return to the fleet- but they are pursued.

We switch to the Empath Whet Bloodlaced, clutching a package to himself, pushing his mount for greater speed. Only a few riders remain and the two White Elf warships which accompanied his mission fell days ago- he watched as his fellows tumbled into the sky but could do nothing. Sunforge’s forces have been doggedly pursuing them- Whet would turn around now, try to claim vengeance for his fallen father, but he has a more important mission. He holds the Twilight Key- an artifact of sufficient magic to power the device to allow the Fleet to escape. He must deliver that key to the grand Battleship, The Daughter of Woes. Behind him he hears the cries of the elemental hounds. Then Whet sees his two cousins, those who raised him since he was born without a twin. Flying beside him, they look at one another and then peel backwards, a sacrifice to buy him more time. Their mental death cries echo in his head, distracting him. The wildly flying mass of stone debris catches him and his mount and suddenly Whet finds himself falling into the storm, his Wyvern thrown. He cries out in desperation and his mount makes a desperate dive to catch him. Wounded and dazed, Whet presses on. However his course proves to be inauspicious, leading the pursing elementals straight into the Lunar Elven Ship, The Blooded Moon. Whet tries to close his mind from the screams as Lord Sunforge’s hunters tear the ship open behind him- he must deliver the key.

Aboard the Horn of Wrath, the secondary flagship, the elder goblin Dweena Squint awaits. In charge of supply and delivery, she’s assigned to lookout for the Twilight Key’s arrival. Then she see the Lunar Elf ship catch fire and tear apart- the enemy has arrived. In the flashes of lightning and battle she catches a glimpse of a Wyvern rider. Dweena activates her Sky-Squid and leaps out into the air currents. She weaves in between fleet vessels- panic has set in. They’re caught between Lord Sunforge’s forces and the Stormwall. Dweena finds the injured elf rider, bloodied and red, and catches the key from him before the crashes back to his own ship exhausted. Dweena delivers the key to the Daughter of Woes, but catches sight of a new problem. A rescue ark has arrived, rising up out of the clouds from below. The overfilled ship blazes with flames and shows damage. Dweena’s forced to make a quick decision- she can order the Goblin ship to pull back to maintain its safety, or she can order rescue parties to head down at great risk. She gives the order for a rescue. She sees several of her sons head down on long ships to save who they can.

Meanwhile, Chain Firespinner and his brethren take to their flying mounts- intending to head out to relieve the Lunar Elf vessel. However, by the time they get there, they find that ship in pieces and another set upon- a human vessel of the Relmarek nation, The Billowing Storm. It has intercepted in a desperate attempt to hold the elemental hunters at bay. Suddenly, Chain spots the burning rescue ark and realizes that it is not one, but two arks, tied together. He, his father and the others turn their attention that way. They fly down and work their fire magics, trying to control the flames. Unfortunately, they cannot save both ships- and one ark tears apart, even as the refugees attempt to leap to the other vessel. The goblin rescue parties find themselves caught in the explosions. Chain sees valuable supplies falling from the hold, but opts to rescue more people and allows them to fall. Then the elemental hunters reach their position.

On board the Battleship, Master of the Hunt Marreg Warmane waits for the arrival of the key. His job is simple- carry it to the Admiral, August Winterborn, to activate the passage through the Stormwall. Beside him is the ship’s second in command, Captain Aughra Bronze. She gives the order for the blowing of the Namir-set charges as the body of Lord Sunforge’s force finally breaks through the clouds. The explosion rocks the fleet. Marreg knows this is only a delay and rushes through the hallways of the ship, heading for the bridge. He forces himself through personnel when he spots a flash of light and the appearance of some of Sunforge’s elite killers- including the elemental called Sunforge’s Daughter. He pauses for a moment and presses on- knowing that the key must be delivered. On the bridge, Marreg hands the key to Admiral Winterborn who instructs his men to activate the passage. They do and suddenly a tunnel appears in the Stormwall- like the eye of a hurricane. But this is not a calm opening, but rather a sudden pulling and everyone and everything is drawn into the swirl of the maelstrom. But the device on the Daughter of Woes holds part of the great vessel in place, while the other half tears way, destroying the Flagship of the refugee fleet. Winterborn orders Marreg to grab Captain Bronze and take an escape boat to the Horn of Wrath. Marreg leaps out an observation window with his reluctant rescue-ee and lands sixty feet below on an escape launch.

Everyone and everything is thrown through the passage and then suddenly, silence and stillness.

The fleet finds itself outside the Stormwall. They’re in a strange "In-Between" bathed in orange light. They see the sphere of their own separate section of the broken wall- in the far distance they can see another blue storm sphere.

The fleet ties itself together and the characters come to terms with the events- the loss of so many ships, including the key flagship. Marreg, on board the bridge of the Horn of Wrath sees Captain Bronze arguing command with the Wrath’s Captain, Elding Greybattle. Marreg intercedes, seeing that Greybattle has lost an arm in the escape. Marreg meets the Orc Physiker Isnala Rainmouse who thanks him for his efforts. Meanwhile on the Namir ship, Lira Moondawning reports in. The Namir leader, Syleng Wyrmbreaker, nods as she speaks. He tells her that she will have to secretly make an assessment of the numbers on board each of the remaining nine vessels of the fleet. Any Namir should be called back to The Silent Vanguard. He also wishes to know relative populations as information for any coming negotiations.

On board the Scalebound ship, Chain returns to report. Many were rescued, but many were lost. His own father fell in the battle. Chain is commended by his master, the seniormost Scaleborn, Anrec Hailslayer, who tells Chain that he will have an honored place among the officers of the new fleet. Likewise, a bloodied Whet Bloodlace, stumbles to report in to his senior, Tytessa Chillstealer. Her mood is somber as she asks for details of the battle from his view. She orders him down to the infirmary, and for the first time Whet notes the extent of his injuries. Heading down he notes how many of those aboard the sole surviving White Elf vessel are civilians- most of the warriors having perished in obtaining the Twilight Key.

Finally, we cut to Dweena Squint sitting down at the great table with her family. No one speaks, noting the empty places. Dweena says nothing but stands up and clears away the silver and plate for her late sons. That moment honored, everyone settles in to eat. They’re interrupted by a delegation from the ship’s council. The Consortium of Nocturne ship they’re aboard, The Unbowed Forge, has lost its Captain in the crossing. Luckily they have an experience pirate captain in the brig- they’ve decided to offer her the job. Dweena makes sure that this pirate will actually fit the hat, and then agrees.

A few days later, a meeting is called, with representatives from across all of the ships. The players meet several of them, including the strange diplomat from the Rescue Ark, The Heart’s Refuge, Irisy Tearbrewer. Whet gets a bad impression from him. After some closed-door negotiating, it is settled that Elding Greybattle will act as Admiral for the fleet, and Captain Bronze will act as his second. The various offices of the fleet are assigned. Whet Bloodlace agrees to form up the Watch for the ship- in charge of handling civil and criminal affairs, investigation and enforcement among the 10,000+ people scatted across the fleet. Chain Fire Spinner will head up the Vigil, those who keep a lookout and Lira Moondawning will serve as the Chief Scout. Marreg and Dweena will continue in their positions, as the Masters of Hunt and Supplies, respectively. The PCs will also serve as the "away team" for checking out any new territories or strange events. Some of them will also serve as magical navigation beacons. They are ‘twinless’- with twins having been born in these other parts of the world. It is hoped that by following those links, the Fleet might find a new home.

GM Notes
I’ll be brief, since I’ve already written too much above. This was a first session- which meant that it was important to establish tone and come out of the gate big and widescreen. I wanted big explosions, big death, great tragedy, great sacrifice and so on. We had some final character polishing off and mechanics stuff to go over, but when I finally started, I tried to keep things rushing forward without a pause. I handled each player individually in an extended scene at the start for a couple of reasons. One, I wanted to put them definitively in the limelight, with a chance to show off their skills. Two, I wanted to build up the bigger picture of what was going on in pieces. Three, while I enjoy the introduction and meeting scenes between players, I worried they’d slow the action down. They would have a chance for that after the escape.

It went- to my mind- really well. I’d say most of that came from players who bit and bit hard on their scenes and played them 110%. They were unselfish and generous in play- paying attention to others’ moments as much as their own. It is a great crew that really showed emotion when Chain’s father vanished, Dweena’s sons’ died and the various vessels died with the last of their peoples. I had stressed as the game started that everything they had ever know- every place, every path, every sight of their homeland was now destroyed. They felt that and grappled with it. In the aftermath of the escape, the players took their duties seriously- seeing the physical difficulties of the fleet as well as the potential cultural and social strife.

As a side note, four of the five players came up with compound names, which meant that when I put together my big random NPC name list, I made sure about 60% of the last names followed that convention.

I’m really looking forward to seeing what these players do next.

More Kith and Kind: Continued Brainstorming on Changeling the Lost

Some thoughts on new Kiths- part one here.

DARKLINGS
Darklings always feel to me like the catch-all Seeming in Changeling? Why is there an Antiquarian as a kith here, rather than under the Wizened, who seem to be more about professional tasks and roles. The distinction I have in my mind is that Darklings are about isolation and loneliness. I think a Wizened Librarian would exist in a desperate, swarming community of archivists- all desperately trying to catalog all of the details of a jar of beans or creating a revised travel guide to Uqbar. TheY fight, compete and join together in the face of other professions. On the other hand, the Darkling Antiquarian lives alone in the wing of a dimly lit library. Perhaps he hears movement in other sections, but his dread keeps him from going there. Anonymous requests come down- are they from the Keeper or something worse? At night they fold themselves up and hide in the pages of a book, like a silverfish. Rules are not taught by peers for the Darkling, instead they have to guess them- subject to constant lessons from an awful and arbitrary universe.

Hider: I imagine this as being the product of some horrible, continuous game of Hide and Seek. They’d perhaps gain a bonus for locating obscure places of concealment- to find things and to hide themselves. I imagine these Darklings constantly observing their surroundings. Alternately, perhaps they can stand very, very still- desperately quiet and silent in hopes that they won’t be seen by the Terrible Seekers. Could they hide in plain sight?

Assemblyman: I find the idea that the Keepers echo cultural concepts (or perhaps cause them...?) particularly disturbing. The notion of a Keeper realm that looks and feels like a Grey abduction center out of a Whitley Strieber story makes me nervous. That whole ‘greys’ as a nightmare fiction gets under my skin (wasn’t there a movie recently with them as owls or something?). An Assemblyman’s a Darkling raised and built in some kind of facility- lab, factory, whatever. They’ve been built out of the leftover parts of other Changelings. They contain many memories and identities, which may mean some real problems for later real world issues with clarity. I like the idea that they have to create an identity for themselves, they don’t have enough of any single past to rely on. I would think that they would be excellent pledgecrafters, able to weave together disparate elements into a unified whole.

Undertow: Have you ever walked out into mucky water and felt your feet sinking? Was there ever a moment when you imagined something under that mud and dross reaching up and grabbing your bare feet. Being pulled and dragged under and then the water going still. That’s what these Changelings had to do to survive. They hid away there among the kelp and garbage in the murk and dim light. This could be done as a kind of Darkling/Elemental as well. You already have a couple of kiths with living underwater as an ability. Perhaps these changelings would have the ability to maintain a grip underwater. Or perhaps they have the ability to sieve through muck and mud to find lost things.

Middle Child: I have no idea what this would be, but I love the name. It suggests the ignored and forgotten member of a family. Perhaps this would be better as a spooky supernatural adversary...

FAIREST
I find the Fairest some of the most difficult of the Changelings. More than the other Seemings they carry over the in-fighting and power struggles of their durance to the real world. Or at least that’s the read I get on them. I think they have a difficult position- and one has to wonder how other Changelings view them, knowing their access to social abilities and manipulation. They also have a problematic drawback in the form of increased susceptibility to Clarity loss. That disadvantage has a significant mechanical cost- it takes experience points to buy it back up. So GMs may be a little gunshy about imposing that. It is also a disadvantage requiring the GM to legislate morality, an area which can put players on edge or make them feel put upon. Players who run Fairest need to be thicker skinned because they will be tangling with social plots and have the risks of clarity loss hanging over them. Some of my negative reaction does come from seeing them in play as a player and a GM. I suspect seeing a good player work with their ideas could rehabilitate them for me. I’d note that given that some of the drawbacks for the Fairest as presented in the book rely on player judgments, a low-empathy player can probably exploit them. In contrast, a high-empathy player may find themselves frozen because of that.

Gladhander: I like the idea of a Fairest who desperately had to make sales in their durance. They found themselves stuck in a nightmare Glengarry Glen Ross Hedge domain. In the real world, they’d present themselves as the ultimate smooth sellers, trying to cover over their own nervousness and need to win. I imagine they’d either have a bump to tests involving sales or else have some sixth sense leading them to likely marks. It isn’t a great idea but could make a decent NPC kith- someone who wants to supply things to the players and could tie in with an existing Goblin Market. One thing this idea does remind me is that players should know why their durance was horrible. In a couple of cases I had players who glorified their durance, creating some play problems. I’ll probably come back to that in another post.

Piper: Again, perhaps too on the nose? The Pied Piper as a classic myth figure would obviously be a Keeper. What would he make of his subjects- perhaps they would be literal instruments? Perhaps they would be smaller echoes of him, also able to lead people along and draw them in certain directions. I imagine this kith ability would revolve around leading a certain group or class of people towards something. And not necessarily a social leading, but an actual leading- playing a haunting tune that only those people can hear (like Nurses, Barristas, Hipsters, etc). (Image from Jana Schirmer on deviantart)

Clotheshorse: We have the Manikin among the Elementals and the Treasured among the Fairest covers a lot of ground. I’m imagining someone who played dress-up, who had to take on and disguise themselves, bury themselves in a uniform or costume. They’d have the inherent ability to make anything they wear, no matter how shabby, look good on them. They’d also have the Contracts of Uniform as an affinity. That’s new contract set we have for our game I’ll post up later.

Sock-Puppet: I need a better name for this kith. These Changeling fairest have the ability to weave a story in the minds of their targets. They make them believe that the Changeling is lovely, wonderful, handsome, beautiful, whatever. They’re able to convince them to do things for thing. The trick is that they can only do this at a distance and through a medium- via letters, over the phone, through texts, over the internet, etc. The target desires the Changeling, and that pull has to be carefully balanced- as the target will try to find the Changeling. If they do actually see them, the illusion is broken and reversed- making them loathed and hated. It echoes Cupid and Psyche a little bit, but I have to think of how a Changeling like this would balance their clarity with the exploitation.

OGRES
I have a fondness for the Ogres, I think they get short shrift- written off perhaps as the dump brutes of the game. Their Seeming disadvantage of poor impulse control doesn’t have to be violent or make them stupid/gullible. We have an Ogre NPC in the campaign who considers himself a Buddhist- and he can’t help but proselytize and comment on other people’s choices in light of that. He also casually says the most obnoxious things in the name of "just speaking the truth." He’s a difficult NPC and a mix of helpful and irritating to the players. We have another Ogre who’s poor impulse control extends to bad decision-making in regard to the object of their affection. Ogres do pick up some other interesting Seeming details- the idea of them being the noblest and the ones given over to hunting down oath-breakers. That reminds me a little of the old Changeling the Dreaming approach to them. On the other hand, it also reminds me of the way in which colonial authorities would choose one tribe to rule and become the bully-boys in areas- inciting local hatreds over general resistance. They also have the Witchtooth seeming, once which suggests some other approaches, tied up with Curses and general witchery. That reminds me of Baba Yaga and Yubaba (from Spirited Away).

Trolls: Again, one of the interesting things about the Keepers of Changeling is that they can adapt more modern conceits. Not that they have to, this could be just a kind of bad pun. The Troll Ogre possesses the uncanny ability to irritate, annoy and enrage a target. They do this through naysaying, snide comments, passive-aggressive behavior and playing the martyr card. Trolls are among the smallest of the Ogres, but typically wear glasses which they can push up when correcting someone. Again, not a great PC kith, but could make for an excellent NPC, especially an adversary. (And yes, I do know that "trolling" as a term comes from fishing, but it just works so well here.)

Minotaurs: A classic mythic creature, they have a kind of subtle and sinister kith ability. If they set up a location, a kind of den (but not in the Hollow sense) they can make their own labyrinth. When anyone enters into that maze they will either find their path difficult to navigate or else be drawn towards the center. I’d imagine the Minotaur wouldn’t be able to separate people using this ability, but would affect a group. Minotaurs would be hermits, as I imagine many of the Ogres are. Their durance would have been spent living isolated and having to defend themselves against interlopers.

Watchmen: You know the old man in the woods, the strange lighthouse keeper who lurks around the fringes, the big homeless vet who cleans up the park? They’re the gruff and grizzled Ogres who have attached themselves to a place and keep it intact. They make a kind of pledge with a location, that if they can keep it secure and free from interlopers, they can gain glamour from it and have an anchor for their clarity. Some of them might actually take up jobs as security, park rangers or even winter caretakers for hotels.

Ahabs: These Ogres would be monsters, misanthropes in the Romantic tradition. They would live in pursuit of some goal or quest which would drive them, regardless of cost or question. Contracts of Oath and Punishment might be an affinity, as might Contracts of the Seeker (another one I have to post). Again, I think these would make a better NPC kith. An Ahab Ogre might roll into town seeking their Great White Whale (perhaps even their Keeper). He might drag the PCs into his quest. The narrative line would probably be obvious, but could be good fun for an arc- especially with a good twist about his target. There’s a great fantasy version of this plot in the classic module Strangers in Prax.

Musclebound: So some of the Keeper-imposed durances clearly have a karmic aspect to them- the "be careful what you wish for" that lures someone into the Hedge. There’s been a focus on physical perfection in the last half-century that revolves around excessive development, hence the problem with steroids. These Ogres would be those people who sought an even better, stronger means to gain that body. Perhaps they answered one of those comic-book Charles Atlas adds (and didn’t end up as Flex Mentallo). Now they’re hulks, with heads and hands buried beneath masses of muscle. I imagine that they can lift a weight vastly beyond their normal means, plus they might be able to flex and throw off anyone grappling or holding them. I like the idea, but I hope it doesn’t sound too jokesy- it’s actually kind of awful when you think about an Ogre who walks around carrying all of that extra weight and muscle on them- lumbering slowly through the Freehold.

Death and the Play-Den (Again)

Hand Me Your Character Sheet...
I've killed off characters. And characters have been killed in my games. I think there's a distinction. I have some brief thoughts today about dead PCs, dying in games, and absent PCs. This is to compliment an odd little geeklist I put together:

Dead PCs- a magnificently obscure geeklist

That list covers games or supplements in which the PCs are dead or consider how GMs deal with dead PCs. I thought there would be more, but White Wolf does seem to have a major chunk of the Dead PC market. I'm not sure what to make of that.

This is a repost as Blogger appears to have deleted yesterday's post and comments.

Killer vs. Care Bear
I don't like killing active PCs- for a couple of reasons, and I think it is worth being explicit about that. First, if someone's invested time in a game, more than a few sessions, I think the GM owes them some kind of payoff. That means that if they do die, that death ought to mean something and ought to come from their own choices. If the player has been pushed into the situation at all by me, then death isn't probably on the table. If they've had choice and made them to go in this direction, then it is. Second, death's too easy. You have a number of other consequences you can impose: wounds, losses, deaths of secondary characters, stolen stuff, bad guys escaping, and so on. There ought to be something at risk in any scene- even if it is a little thing. Third, players are human beings and get irritated. They don't like penalties, they don't like lost turns and they don't like losing their character- especially if they go out in a crappy way. That's a situational fact- and we can rail against it- that players ought to be prepared for that, but that's more in the ideal than the actual. A player who is smiling at the table when the GM punks his character isn't someone who is going to be as enthusiastic to come back and play again.

That's not to say I want to be gentle with the players- I just want character death to feel like something significant. As a GM, you have all the points. You can do anything.

Critical!
I alluded above to the social contract at the game table- which of course varies from table to table. Different groups have different expectations. I think just as the GM should consider the meta-consequences of death, based on the player's time investment- players also need to consider and weigh the GM's contribution of time and effort before raising a stink. That social contract, of course, changes for one-shot and short-run campaigns. I want to be lethal in those- it should be tense. The later the session gets, the more lethal it should be. Things which might have caused a stubbed toe at the start of the game ought to lop off arms by the final scene. The social contract we have at the table is probably fairly different from game tables where fidelity to mechanics, prepared encounters and dice rolls is important. It think those rpgs, which focus on the game as game and a completely objective system for resolution can be quite fun. I think that its great that we can have a hobby that runs the spectrum from story-telling, narrative centered approaches to combat-focused, rules-heavy tactical simulations. There's been some discussion on this coming out of the question of the GM fudging his dice rolls on the RPG Geek boards. I'll steer clear of that- except to say that if everyone's enjoying themselves then you're probably handling things well.

The Worst Kind of Death
I have never seen anything good come out of one PC killing another at the table in a campaign. And here I'm talking about two active players at the table. Let me preface with exceptions- games like Paranoia, Amber, or short-run games. The former build that as a part of the setting, the latter mean less connection for the players to their characters. That being said, too much play in these kinds of games has a high risk of bleeding over into other games.

I believe there should be tension, strife and drama between players- so long as it doesn't cause arguments in the real world. And the only way you learn where that line is to learn over time and many plays. Some players have hang-ups- not liking certain kinds of characters, paranoia about their stuff, hostility to NPCs. As a GM I don't want to stomp on anyone's autonomy, but a player's right to expression and character ends when it negatively impinges on another player's rightful feelings. Note the phrase rightful- I've had some bad players in the past. In particular they could dish it out, but couldn't take it. They stomped on other player's scenes, plots and ideas, but became petulant and upset if the reverse happened. I've seen them run and hide behind the skirts of other players, yell at the table and generally work to undercut other players enjoyment.

That being said- inter-party fighting, in the lethal sense, is a excellent choice if you want to pare down your gaming group. And I've seen a lot of PvP at the table, each time with bad feelings and the poisoning of the game. I talk a little bit more about that in another RPG Geek thread. I've killed other PCs myself as a player. And while it was satisfying in the short term, it always cost me in the long run. Killing here can be not just death of a character, but also forcing significant changes on another player's character without their input: mind-control, changing personality, killing loved-ones, negating their options without alternatives.

Two last notes: 1. If you're going to have interparty fighting in a campaign, you'd better have a tremendously objective and mechanics-rich system. 2. Anything which happens at the table is ultimately the GM's responsibility. Always- no excuses.

PCs Who Leave
A trickier question is what to do with the characters of players who leave. If they left under reasonable circumstances and left behind a group of players who enjoyed playing with them then the question is relatively easy. Generally I resist the urge to continue playing those characters as NPCs. On the one hand it creates an expectation about that NPC's power and interests. On the other hand, there's always the risk that you'll diminish the character. You don't want a player coming back to find that something awful has happened to their character- or that they've done something they never would have. I've had that happen a couple of times and learned my lesson. As a GM you're in a lose-lose situation here. Your best bet is to simply retire the character, far off-screen so they don't become an issue.

More difficult would be player who leave behind a table where they've burned bridges with the players, GM or both. If the campaign's early enough along, you can simply excise them out of the story: they never existed. If I can do that, I do. It does have some risk- especially where the group has been forced into choices by that problem player and now have to live with them after the player has left. Other players at the table may want revenge or even just a measure of satisfaction. I played in a game where we spent many sessions absolutely focused on one players plots and details, to the exception of any other players wishes. Once that finished up, the player wasn't interested anymore and quit. We then had wasted a half-dozen sessions with no progress. I think the GM has to avoid having players "finish off" remaining characters. That can set a bad tone for the game.

You have three decent choices. 1. Simply retire the character and not address them again. This can be done by GM's fiat. It takes them off the table and doesn't make it an issue. 2. Continue to play the character as an NPC, but in a distinctly different way. Make clear that this is your version of the character- a kind of do-over for them. If a character had plot lines invested in them, this may be the best option. 3. Kill the character- do it before the players can. Do it coldly and quickly, without dwelling on it. If you as a Gm do gain pleasure from it, don't let it show. In my experience, playing out former PCs characters in anything but a cursory way can create group dynamic problems- even with the worst of players.

Any Final Words?
1. I talk about not liking death, but in a couple of campaigns, we played pretty heavily with it. In both cases we were playing Rolemaster (or its little brother, MERP) and we opted to play as strictly by the rules and rolls as possible- no rerolls, no fudging, no additional options. Needless to say, we went through characters at an unparalleled speed. A player would be lucky if they could gain a level or two before dying. It was gruesome. In one game, the final fight was against all the PCs who had died during the course of the campaign (the GM had picked up the character sheets of the dead throughout).

2. Has anyone ever really gotten away with the "This is my late character's twin who has all the same equipment and stats" gambit?

3. In my fantasy games, I don't usually allow resurrection. Dead is dead. Perhaps they'll revisit as a ghost, and you can say goodbye. That's allows me to make objects which do raise the dead important plot items and McGuffins. It does mean that when I adapt materials over from Glorantha, I have to be careful. That setting has easy, cheap resurrection, a detail with wide-ranging consequences for the campaign.

4. Some of my favorite moments from campaigns have been character deaths. They're often talked about and recalled fondly. A cheap death in a game irritates, but a great and heroic death is a story you'll hear about for years.

5. The best killing session I had was late in a campaign. They'd fought, had close calls and lost a couple of players- but generally it was a low-death fantasy campaign. Then they got into a big fight, and I started gakking them left and right. The first couple of players had their jaws drop when they took the full brunt of a heavy Rolemaster critical. By the time we got to only one player left, they knew something was up. Essentially it had been a magical ritual to get them to cross over to another place. They went through some stuff there, then returned and replayed the fight with better strategy, knowledge of the situation and extra weaponry. But the shock I got from the PCs in the first fight...that was delicious.

Death and the Play-Den

Hand Me Your Character Sheet...
I've killed off characters. And characters have been killed in my games. I think there's a distinction. I have some brief thoughts today about dead PCs, dying in games, and absent PCs. This is to compliment an odd little geeklist I put together:

Dead PCs- a magnificently obscure geeklist

That list covers games or supplements in which the PCs are dead or consider how GMs deal with dead PCs. I thought there would be more, but White Wolf does seem to have a major chunk of the Dead PC market. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Killer vs. Care Bear
I don't like killing active PCs- for a couple of reasons, and I think it is worth being explicit about that. First, if someone's invested time in a game, more than a few sessions, I think the GM owes them some kind of payoff. That means that if they do die, that death ought to mean something and ought to come from their own choices. If the player has been pushed into the situation at all by me, then death isn't probably on the table. If they've had choice and made them to go in this direction, then it is. Second, death's too easy. You have a number of other consequences you can impose: wounds, losses, deaths of secondary characters, stolen stuff, bad guys escaping, and so on. There ought to be something at risk in any scene- even if it is a little thing. Third, players are human beings and get irritated. They don't like penalties, they don't like lost turns and they don't like losing their character- especially if they go out in a crappy way. That's a situational fact- and we can rail against it- that players ought to be prepared for that, but that's more in the ideal than the actual. A player who is smiling at the table when the GM punks his character isn't someone who is going to be as enthusiastic to come back and play again.

That's not to say I want to be gentle with the players- I just want character death to feel like something significant. As a GM, you have all the points. You can do anything.

Critical!
I alluded above to the social contract at the game table- which of course varies from table to table. Different groups have different expectations. I think just as the GM should consider the meta-consequences of death, based on the player's time investment- players also need to consider and weigh the GM's contribution of time and effort before raising a stink. That social contract, of course, changes for one-shot and short-run campaigns. I want to be lethal in those- it should be tense. The later the session gets, the more lethal it should be. Things which might have caused a stubbed toe at the start of the game ought to lop off arms by the final scene. The social contract we have at the table is probably fairly different from game tables where fidelity to mechanics, prepared encounters and dice rolls is important. It think those rpgs, which focus on the game as game and a completely objective system for resolution can be quite fun. I think that its great that we can have a hobby that runs the spectrum from story-telling, narrative centered approaches to combat-focused, rules-heavy tactical simulations. There's been some discussion on this coming out of the question of the GM fudging his dice rolls on the RPG Geek boards. I'll steer clear of that- except to say that if everyone's enjoying themselves then you're probably handling things well.

The Worst Kind of Death
I have never seen anything good come out of one PC killing another at the table in a campaign. And here I'm talking about two active players at the table. Let me preface with exceptions- games like Paranoia, Amber, or short-run games. The former build that as a part of the setting, the latter mean less connection for the players to their characters. That being said, too much play in these kinds of games has a high risk of bleeding over into other games.

I believe there should be tension, strife and drama between players- so long as it doesn't cause arguments in the real world. And the only way you learn where that line is to learn over time and many plays. Some players have hang-ups- not liking certain kinds of characters, paranoia about their stuff, hostility to NPCs. As a GM I don't want to stomp on anyone's autonomy, but a player's right to expression and character ends when it negatively impinges on another player's rightful feelings. Note the phrase rightful- I've had some bad players in the past. In particular they could dish it out, but couldn't take it. They stomped on other player's scenes, plots and ideas, but became petulant and upset if the reverse happened. I've seen them run and hide behind the skirts of other players, yell at the table and generally work to undercut other players enjoyment.

That being said- inter-party fighting, in the lethal sense, is a excellent choice if you want to pare down your gaming group. And I've seen a lot of PvP at the table, each time with bad feelings and the poisoning of the game. I talk a little bit more about that in another thread on RPG Geek. I've killed other PCs myself as a player. And while it was satisfying in the short term, it always cost me in the long run. Killing here can be not just death of a character, but also forcing significant changes on another player's character without their input: mind-control, changing personality, killing loved-ones, negating their options without alternatives.

Two last notes: 1. If you're going to have interparty fighting in a campaign, you'd better have a tremendously objective and mechanics-rich system. 2. Anything which happens at the table is ultimately the GM's responsibility. Always- no excuses.

PCs Who Leave
A trickier question is what to do with the characters of players who leave. If they left under reasonable circumstances and left behind a group of players who enjoyed playing with them then the question is relatively easy. Generally I resist the urge to continue playing those characters as NPCs. On the one hand it creates an expectation about that NPC's power and interests. On the other hand, there's always the risk that you'll diminish the character. You don't want a player coming back to find that something awful has happened to their character- or that they've done something they never would have. I've had that happen a couple of times and learned my lesson. As a GM you're in a lose-lose situation here. Your best bet is to simply retire the character, far off-screen so they don't become an issue.

More difficult would be player who leave behind a table where they've burned bridges with the players, GM or both. If the campaign's early enough along, you can simply excise them out of the story: they never existed. If I can do that, I do. It does have some risk- especially where the group has been forced into choices by that problem player and now have to live with them after the player has left. Other players at the table may want revenge or even just a measure of satisfaction. I played in a game where we spent many sessions absolutely focused on one players plots and details, to the exception of any other players wishes. Once that finished up, the player wasn't interested anymore and quit. We then had wasted a half-dozen sessions with no progress. I think the GM has to avoid having players "finish off" remaining characters. That can set a bad tone for the game.

You have three decent choices. 1. Simply retire the character and not address them again. This can be done by GM's fiat. It takes them off the table and doesn't make it an issue. 2. Continue to play the character as an NPC, but in a distinctly different way. Make clear that this is your version of the character- a kind of do-over for them. If a character had plot lines invested in them, this may be the best option. 3. Kill the character- do it before the players can. Do it coldly and quickly, without dwelling on it. If you as a Gm do gain pleasure from it, don't let it show. In my experience, playing out former PCs characters in anything but a cursory way can create group dynamic problems- even with the worst of players.

Any Final Words?
1. I talk about not liking death, but in a couple of campaigns, we played pretty heavily with it. In both cases we were playing Rolemaster (or its little brother, MERP) and we opted to play as strictly by the rules and rolls as possible- no rerolls, no fudging, no additional options. Needless to say, we went through characters at an unparalleled speed. A player would be lucky if they could gain a level or two before dying. It was gruesome. In one game, the final fight was against all the PCs who had died during the course of the campaign (the GM had picked up the character sheets of the dead throughout).

2. Has anyone ever really gotten away with the "This is my late character's twin who has all the same equipment and stats" gambit?

3. In my fantasy games, I don't usually allow resurrection. Dead is dead. Perhaps they'll revisit as a ghost, and you can say goodbye. That's allows me to make objects which do raise the dead important plot items and McGuffins. It does mean that when I adapt materials over from Glorantha, I have to be careful. That setting has easy, cheap resurrection, a detail with wide-ranging consequences for the campaign.

4. Some of my favorite moments from campaigns have been character deaths. They're often talked about and recalled fondly. A cheap death in a game irritates, but a great and heroic death is a story you'll hear about for years.

5. The best killing session I had was late in a campaign. They'd fought, had close calls and lost a couple of players- but generally it was a low-death fantasy campaign. Then they got into a big fight, and I started gakking them left and right. The first couple of players had their jaws drop when they took the full brunt of a heavy Rolemaster critical. By the time we got to only one player left, they knew something was up. Essentially it had been a magical ritual to get them to cross over to another place. They went through some stuff there, then returned and replayed the fight with better strategy, knowledge of the situation and extra weaponry. But the shock I got from the PCs in the first fight...that was delicious.