Review: Domain of Evil

I remember the corner snipe on this adventure distinctly—announcing in bold black and red type against a yellow background: For veteran Star Wars player characters. This intrigued me, since all other adventures for the game had been somewhat ambiguous about what 'level' the player characters were (in fact, I've always found it an easy thing to scale the difficulty of these adventures up or down to match the party).

The plot is actually pretty straight forward—the players, pursued by a team of ruthless bounty-hunters, crash on the swamp planet of Trinta. There, they discover that they are 'not alone'. A fallen and insane Jedi lives here now, at the heart of a Nexus of darkside force power. The characters soon find themselves struggling against the hunters, the real dangers of the swamps and the twisted visions visited upon them by the now dark Jedi—Halagad Ventor. The climax of the adventure takes the party into the Dark Nexus itself—where they must each face a test of their spirit before even being able to face the master himself.

As far as a premise goes, Domain of Evil has a great one. It is very much like an elongated version of Luke's own 'test' on Dagobah—where he went into the 'dark tree' and battled 'Vader'—only to find himself behind the mask. It is a nice touchstone to have in a campaign—making your PC's journey seem almost parallel to that of Luke and the other Heroes. In fact, I recall placing this adventure close to the Empire Strikes Back timeline in my campaign, just to further reinforce this feeling.

Along with the main plot, many of the encounters and obstacles are memorable as well. They are made more so in that 'real' encounters are mixed in with horrific, illusionary 'dark visions' that seem real. This helps to keep players off balance—something that is important to a horror plot (which this adventure truly is). 

One of the more memorable 'dream visions' was the seemingly cliche encounter with the 'friendly native tribe', who invite the players back to their village. Once the players are enjoying the welcome feast, however, the scene begins to warp subtly. Out of the corner of their eyes they see the 'natives' slowly changing into hideous, fanged beasts—and the very food their eating, first appearing as luscious fruits, is now revealed as musty, rotting fungi. But just as the PC's take action, the whole scene vanishes, leaving them out of sorts in the middle of the swamp night. So right here the PCs get an inkling of what they're in for—and its made all the more unnerving in that it DOES start out as a cliche, but is rapidly turned on its ear.

Other memorable visions include an encounter with a band of rotting, undead Jedi knights, (rising up out of the swamp waters to do battle) and an  attack by a Rancor—which almost caused one of my players to commit accidental IC suicide when he first tried to 'disbelieve' the illusion then (after his arm was 'torn off') decided to try to nobly sacrifice himself by being swallowed with a live thermal detonator. Thankfully, he fumbled the detonator (which was not illusionary) before he could use it.

Interspersed with all these 'dreambeasts' (as the adventure calls them), are very real dangerous monsters and the band of persistent bounty hunters who are till on the trail of the heroes. Again, I found this mix of real and imagined threats a great way to 'wear down' the players as they approached the climax of the adventure—both 'in character' (emotionally and physically through injury and use of equipment) and stat-wise (draining force and character points). And to make matters MORE interesting, even the 'illusionary' damage had a very real effect, draining a character's force and/or mental attributes until, when they were all gone, the character is driven into one or another form of insanity. All in all, it was a great build-up to the final encounter of the adventure.

Unfortunately, the ending of Domain of Evil is both its best and worst point. This was one of those 'if I had it to do all over again' moments for me when I look back on it. The idea was that as the players enter the Dark Nexus to face the fallen Jedi, they each have a personal vision which tests them morally and spiritually. This SOUNDS good, of course, but truthfully, a lot of the visions seem (again in retrospect) so generic and OBVIOUS that it takes what should be a very dramatic scene and makes it a bit... well.. silly. For example, one of the suggested visions gave you the choice of either saving or abandoning a bunch of children as stormtroopers charge in to gun them down. Gee. Wonder which one of those decisions gets you a dark-side point? Failure of these tests means the character might possibly fall to the Dark Side (which will have consequences in the final encounter...)

What I would do differently now if I could would be to throw out these generic tests and dig deep into the backgrounds and emotions of the players to come up with something that actually meant something to them on a personal level. Exactly what that would entail I'm still not sure of. But it is what I'd do if I got to run the adventure again. 

In any case, once past the test of character, the stage is set for the showdown with the Fallen Jedi, Halagad Ventor. To the credit of this adventure, there are two ways to resolve the situation—redemption or death. Redemption is the more heroic method, but not all parties might take it. Death is the simpler solution, it seems, but carries with it a possible complication—any characters who fell to the Dark Side during the tests will be lost forever if the Halagad is slain (if he is redeemed, then fallen characters are automatically saved along with him). 

So, I've done a lot of talking about the plot and encounters, but one more thing needs to be said about this Adventure, and that is the excellent interior artwork provided for it by Allen Nunis. It is consistent and evocative throughout, with some truly memorable scenes rendered (most notably the 'undead Jedi'). A lot of Star Wars adventures are rather hit-and miss with their internal artwork. To me, this one was a definite hit.

And now, back to that snipe on the corner of the module cover—the one saying that this was for 'experienced' Star Wars characters. I guess everyone has a different definition of experienced. In my campaign, I found I had to bump up the stats of the NPCs—particularly of the Fallen Jedi Halagad Ventor—quite a bit to be a threat for my PCs (who had been gaming solidly for a year and a half by this point). So, from an attention-getting perspective, the snipe was good, but it wasn't exactly what I expected.

In closing, I would like to say that I highly recommend this adventure—but I would also urge GM's running it to give a lot of thought to the climax and work to tailor it to their particular player characters—or at the very least come up with some less obvious moral choices.

Dodge This

Though it seems like a simple game mechanic (and it is), the dodge skill is one of the most important components of running a 'cinematic' style adventure game. It is one of the things that really sets the D6 system apart from games like D&D, where how much armor/magic-protection  you had was the primary determinant of whether or not you got hit in combat. Though armor is still useful in the D6 system, the dodge mechanic allows you to play the kind of heroes you see in movies—who usually don't wear much more than normal clothing. Since this is what we see most of the time in the Star Wars movies, its nice to see that the game supports this (and as a side note, this is yet another reason I don't think the D20 system captures the 'feel' of the movies as well).

The skill was defined in the last generation of rule books as: "a reaction skill used to avoid any ranged attack...Character's using this are doing whatever they can to dodge the attack—slipping around a corner for cover, diving behind cargo containers, dropping to the ground or any other maneuvers to avoid getting hit."

Pretty self-explanatory, but also I can see where some people might not consider it terribly realistic. Well.. it isn't. But then, Star Wars isn't a terribly 'realistic' setting. Its cinematic. Heroes do things that, in 'real life', would probably get them killed. Thus, in my own mind, the Dodge skill has had to expand a bit beyond its basic definition. It isn't as simple as a character just being able to see an incoming attack and move out of the way. 

First of all, to me dodge includes an element of 'luck'—a commodity that heroes (and major villains) seem to  have. And to me, this is even 'demonstrated' in the movies—when you look at just how bad a shot the Imperial Stormtroopers seem to be. Since these guys are vaunted to be 'accurate' shots, I can't think of many other plausible reasons for them not hitting.

But, in talking with my friend Philip, I have come to see the dodge skill as an overall kind of 'awareness' that people get through training and combat experience. It is the ability to know how to subconsciously take advantage of cover while moving. To know how to 'fire and move' in an unpredictable manner. To me, this makes a lot more sense than imagining a person who can see incoming blaster bolts and sidestep them.

Indeed, when I first began to play the D6 Star Wars system I rather quickly had to make some house-rules regarding its use. Most notable of these was the rule that you can't 'Dodge Forward'. Often, my players would have their characters move directly into the teeth of enemy fire, dodging as they came to close the distance. To me, this pushes the bounds of even cinematic realism. I mean, it was like they were becoming 'ninja masters', sidestepping blasts. Now, in order to close the distance, you have to move obliquely to those who are shooting at you (thus making approaching enemy fire a lot slower). 

Anyway, those are just my random thoughts on the subject—and like a lot of D6 things, it 'feels right' to me, and has worked for quite a few years now.

My Heroes

Continuing in my series of self-indulgent reminisces...I will now reflect upon my own roleplaying characters—the ones I played in those few times where I was actually a player and not a game master. I hope I don't bore people with stuff like this, but the truth is that I love to hear other people's stories about their gaming experiences and I figure other people might like it, too.

KAJAN THE BARBARIAN...err RANGER!

It would all have to start with Kajan. This was the first character I ever made—even BEFORE I got my first game of D&D. I had heard what the game was like and so I drew a character on a blank sheet of paper (I ALWAYS drew my characters, you see) and just made up some stats that had nothing to do with anything. In any case, I eventually did get the game and made up 'real' stats for Kajan. He was a fighter—and that pretty much set the tone for all my characters. I was never drawn to spell-casters or thieves or even Elves or Dwarves...nope, just your basic fighter, please. 

Unfortunately, in the middle of South Dakota, there wasn't much going on in the way of gaming. I played with my older sister (and later one of my step-sisters) but we never 'really' played. More often than not we just made up characters. And so, while Kajan was the first character I ever made, I have yet to ever really play him as anything other than an NPC. Still, Kajan lived on in my mind, and as I became more immersed in gaming (or at least reading about gaming) he continued to evolve as a concept. Though initially modeled after Thundarr the Barbarian (complete with poofy, fur boots) he gradually evolved into a Ranger. That particular class—introduced to me in a 'Best of' Dragon Magazine—really struck a chord and has become intertwined with the concept of most of my characters in the future. By the time I read lord of the Rings, I was completely hooked. 

AGENT WHATSHISNAME!

There followed a long drought in my ever actually playing except for an agent I played for one or two adventures in the Top Secret SI game run by my friend Mark. I can hardly remember the guy, except that he once had a traumatic flashback (damn disadvantages) in the middle of a hostage-bus filled with explosives and irate Libyan school children. Fun. I ran a D&D campaign in high-school, and of course my Star Wars game in college, but it was not until Doyce ran his Dark Conspiracy game that I actually ever got to be a 'real' player. 

ETIENNE LAFITTE

The character was initially an NPC 'henchman' in the gaming group—meaning I had no say in his creation or stats—he was just given to me  to play. Physically? He was pretty much average across the board (5-6's on a 1-10 scale). His charisma, however was like a 9 or something. And so for me that provided a hook. The generic 'ex-marine henchman' became the suave Cajun face-man, Etienne LaFitte. He was Cajun because our campaign was initially centered in New Orleans. He was Etienne LaFitte for two reasons: 1) Because LaFitte was the name of a famous pirate from New Orleans (around 1812) and 2) Because Etienne LaFitte was the name of the character Gung-Ho from GI Joe. Yeah. Real original, I know, but I went with it. It was with this character that I began to have fun with playing an extrovert. All my concepts previously were always the 'strong silent type' and typically not interested in social interaction. Etienne on the other hand was a party-guy—and the guy who schmoozed or lied for the party when they needed it. All in all, he was fun and (for me) new. Alas, the campaign didn't last too long.

DAYL TAVIS, SPACE MARINE!

Dayl lived in another short-lived game run by Doyce was the 'World's Beyond' campaign (based on the obscure system of the same name). He was an ex-marine hired as security for a tramp freighter. Again, I don't remember a lot about him except that he was (for me) disappointingly short (5'4") and that at one time, he got tusked by a giant space-walrus. He was also involved in the 'Flaming Bears of Ixion' incident. In fact, he was one of the chief proponents of NOT wanting to camp overnight in the alien-infested crashed ghost ship.

SEBASTIAN KALIDOR

This was the one. My favorite character. He began in Doyce's 'Dangerous Journeys' Campaign (a short-lived system designed by Gary Gygax, then destroyed by TSR via lawsuits). 'Explorer' was one of the archetypes in the system (not classes, as it was a skill-based system)—and since that was about the closest thing to Ranger, that's what I chose. I wound up with a character who was rather physically imposing, but almost exactly average in mental and spiritual aspects (these were the three main stat areas in the game). And then, strangely enough, when it came to the (also randomly generated) advantages and secondary stats...it turned out that Sebastian was not only devastatingly handsome, but also charismatic. The hell. It was a weird conglomeration of my personal character traits: the laconic ranger and the charismatic extrovert. And so my concept really took off. Sebastian was going to be a swashbuckling adventurer/explorer type.

What really solidified this character as my favorite was the setting that Doyce used for this campaign—The Free City of Haven, with all its incredible and fun detail. It captured my imagination and gave me all kinds of in-character ideas. Based out of a warehouse in the city docks, our small party became involved in intrigue between the city nobles and their rising middle-class rivals. We also ran afoul of the 'bad' Thieve's Guild ("The Black Hand"—the one trying to take over from the other guild). Sebastian himself became involved in an epic horse-race (coming in second, damnit) and even began to form a 'boys club' type thing for the street urchins living in the area around the warehouse (you know, kind of like the Baker Street Irregulars). And somehow, in the midst of all this action, Sebastian managed to start a tentative romance with one of the NPCs in the group—a young female thief they'd picked up along the way, named Corwyn. 

The campaign had some big twists that helped further develop Sebastian—namely the time where the bad guild captured the party and sold them into slavery on a galley bound for far off lands. The group escaped, of course, but the abuse they suffered not only made a nemesis of the ship's captain (who escaped, damnit) but solidified the resolution in Sebastian that he would, one day, crush the Black Hand. Despite his vowed vengeance, I never allowed Sebastian to become a dark character. In fact, his goals and conduct always remained...well, almost paladin-like: When hired to recover a 'kidnapped' noblewoman, only to discover she'd actually run off with her lover, he convinced the party to let them go and forgo the reward. He took his 'Baker Street Irregulars' on a camping trip to give the city kids some 'healthy' exposure to the great outdoors. He single-handedly stood toe-to-toe with a horrible undead beast in order for the rest of the party to evacuate threatened townsfolk (of course, it was one of the party that accidently released the critter in the first place...). Yeah. He was fun to play. And I was sorry when the campaign petered out.

DAG THE HALFLING

One summer during college, I caught wind that Lee was running a D&D campaign. I somehow got invited to play. I went totally against my usual archetype, choosing instead to play a good-natured halfling thief. This campaign (though again short-lived) was great fun—made so both by Lee's excellent game-mastering skills and by the sense of humor of the others in the group (Lee's brother's, Mike and Dale as well as another friend, Lonnie(?)). I don't remember the adventures in this game nearly as much as I do the inter-party antagonism—mainly between Dale and Lonnie, who's characters (a thief and druid) really did NOT get along. Dag the halfling proved himself to be a selfless friend when one inter-party argument turned particularly brutal. Dale's character had actually injured Lonnie's and Lonnie summoned some creature (I think it was a unicorn? or maybe a huge horse?) to trample Dale. Dag jumped in between the two to keep it from escalating. Dale's character swept in to save mine, even as Lonnie called off his beast. The situation was defused and Dale was grateful for the risk I'd taken (even if he didn't like me 'meddling' in his affairs). 

Though they had nothing to do with my character (and thus don't really belong in this post) some of the other antics of the group are just too good to not talk about: Like when Mike got hold of a 'Deck of Many Things'—and because of one of his draws from it, one of his henchmen (a mute servant girl) went berserk and pitch-forked his horse to death. This prompted an emotion-choked cry of "No! *choke* Spot! Nooooo!" from Mike (his horse was evidently named Spot, though none of us knew that prior). Oh, and then there was the time we were tomb-robb- err.. I mean exploring, and one of the dead bodies suddenly sat up and started doing the chicken dance. This was Mike's character secretly using 'Animate Dead' as a joke. But to see Lee act out the corpse's dance was... well, I'm laughing right now as I write this.

SEBASTIAN KALIDOR, REDUX!

When I first started MUSHing (online, text-based roleplaying), it was just after Doyce's Dangerous Journey's campaign had ended. Thus, when pressed for a character to use on the Star Wars MUSH, I naturally retooled Sebastian to fit the bill. Thus, Sebastian Kalidor, space-explorer was born! But then...well...nothing ever happened on Star Wars MUSH—except for the occasional bar brawl. It wasn't until my friends and I built our own MUSH (Minos Cluster) that he had anything real to do—starting as an Alliance Sympathetic Bartender on the planet Yelsain, he eventually became an officer in the New Republic. I played him in much the same manner as I did his fantasy iteration and it was a lot of fun, but alas, as the MUSH proceeded, more and more my duties were those of 'game master' not player. Star Wars Sebastian became an NPC in my current campaign—and even became the husband of one of the player characters (Adren) before dying a hero's death in the current Nagai War. Sniff.

And that is about it. Oh sure, there were smaller campaigns and other characters, but not many of those really stand out. As a GM, I have had the pleasure of running many different NPCs—many of which I have developed great affection for, but enjoyable as they are they aren't QUITE like being 'just a player' in someone else's game.

The Minos Cluster

My last post got me thinking about the Minos Cluster (presented in Galaxy Guide 6). This setting within the Star Wars galaxy has taken on 'mythic' proportions in my own mind. It was here that the Vermillion Campaign really got it's start. It was this place that inspired my friends and I to create our own online game (MUSH). It was the place I went to when starting a new campaign. Obviously something about this setting struck a chord with me—and that connection has only grown through the further development through gaming. And so, it is The Minos Cluster that I will blather on about for a while.

THE VERMILLION CAMPAIGN

Initially presented in Galaxy Guide 6: Tramp Freighters, the Minos Cluster was described as a remote sector of space far from the 'more important' worlds of the Imperial core. As a place for a fledgeling group of undercover Alliance agents, it sounded perfect. There were Imperials, of course—their tyranny was felt everywhere. But here, in the ass-end of space, there was a lot more 'wiggle room' than  you could find elsewhere. This meant that the character's could make a few mistakes without getting trounced. It also meant they had a REAL chance to affect the course of events. In essence, the Minos Cluster was a microcosm of the Star Wars Galaxy—a small pond where the PCs could stretch their legs as small fish.

Solid (but still somewhat sketchy) information was provided for the planets in the cluster, along with its major NPCs. A rough outline of several adventures and even a campaign was provided as well. And throughout there were numerous hooks for plotlines that could be developed. Though the first couple adventures I ran for the Vermillion Campaign were modules, this was the first time I really got to pick up the ball and run with it. And boy did I. This was really a 'sandbox' era of the campaign, with a lot depending upon just what the players did or didn't do in their undercover professions as tramp freighters. I used a lot of the pre-generated NPCs, but made up a number of my own as well—Joblo the informant, Nelson Felroc, the rich (but noble) miner, Nelson Jr. His idealistic son, the nobles of Eliad (based on the noble houses from Battletech), etc.

The whole campaign built towards an open revolt in the sector—beginning with their making contact with various sympathetic cells, continuing through their liberation of a political prisoner and capture of an Imperial Frigate and culminating in an assault on the main Imperial fleet at the head of a rag-tag fleet. At one point, they even escorted Princess Leia around the cluster to help build up the resistance! 

In the end, the Empire in the cluster was overthrown and decisively defeated. Being such a remote backwater (and relatively unimportant to the Empire) they took no immediate action to retake the sector (that wouldn't come until much later). So in a way, the players got to experience their characters changing the course of history for an entire sector. All very good stuff.

THE MUSH

The fun and success of the campaign and the setting coincided a year or so later with my introduction to (and obsession with) MUSHing. For those who don't know, a MUSH (or Multi User Shared Habitat (or hallucination)) is a text based online environment where numerous people can come and interact. In our case, this interaction was gaming. Many of the Vermillion crew got into playing the original Star Wars MUSH, but after months of waiting for it to be 'finished' (i.e. have an actual game system in place), we began to look at the possibility of building our own. Luckily, Steve2 and Doyce were both computer literate enough for us to start (though Steve2 quickly proved himself to be the main coder—and the best all-around MUSH coder I've known). 

We decided to set the MUSH in the time period just after the Return of the Jedi. By choosing the Minos Cluster, we figured we'd have a more 'manageable' chunk of the Galaxy to deal with and a more balanced setting where neither Empire nor Alliance (New Republic) had the upper hand (at least not initially). 

Looking back on it, we were woefully unprepared. Our opening week was chaotic in the extreme. With rogue players running around stealing anything not nailed down, others attempting to slaughter people at random and still more trying to hack the code to destroy the place—simply because they could. This was a rude shock—especially from someone used to tabletop gaming. I had come to expect at least a modicum of maturity or even politeness. Not so with the online community. People seemed to take this anonymous environment as an excuse to be as big an ass as they wanted—and with (seemingly) no repercussions. 

And yet somehow, we survived the deluge. The code got better and I began to really experiment with online, text-based roleplaying. On a small scale  (with 1-3 other people) it was really a blast. But the larger he group, the more cumbersome the media became. Our ambitious 'mega-plots' involving fleet-scale battles were especially frustrating—with inevitable breakdowns in either the computer itself (lag) the game systems (code) or the players (logging off, being jerks, complaining, etc.). 

The MUSH lasted 3+ years (as I recall) during which time the Minos Cluster setting was developed even MORE thoroughly than in the original Vermillion Campaign. It was here where I came up with the idea of the Templars and Inquisitors of Pergitor. It was here that Yelsain gained a lot of its flavor through roleplay and where the players made for some truly memorable moments, often through IC stupidity. A prime example of this was the Imperial Civil war between the Army and Navy (brought about mainly because both sides wanted to be in charge of the other). The army 'made its move' by trying to capture a grounded corvette. When the boarding failed, they decided to 'trap' it by raising the planetary shields. Unfortunately, being inside the shield meant that the corvette could bombard the Army base AND the shield generator—so not only did it escape, it left the planet open to invasion by the New Republic. Another glorious moment of stupidity took place when a disgruntled fragment of the New Republic decided to plot a coup... while on the bridge of the Fleet's flagship, in full view (and hearing) of its NPC crew.

But, for all its stupidity, there was some truly outstanding roleplay as well—a prime example being my friend Sharon and her various exploits (indeed, this MUSH spawned a campaign with her than lasted years after the place went down). My Vermillion crew were likewise responsible for moments of awesome. Steve2 and Lee spring to mind here, in their roles as Dark Jedi villains. There were a few other stand-outs as well (Hollifeld, for instance) but alas, the fickle social aspects of this kind of gaming wound up souring me on most people.

And so, when the MUSH finally developed an incurable corruption after all those years, part of me was actually glad. For all the good times, there were lots of bad. I would continue to MUSH for quite a while after Minos Cluster, but eventually, the grind of having to deal with mean-spirited people soured me to the whole thing. I am officially DONE MUSHing, but Minos Cluster will always stand as a landmark in my gaming history—and did more than any campaign to deepen the setting.

MINOS REVISTED

A couple years ago I caught the gaming bug—specifically the Star Wars bug. Luckily for me, Sharon and her husband Philip were willing to indulge. And so we embarked on a campaign with their two characters. While this campaign was completely unrelated to the Vermillion or online one, the influences of both those things were in full effect. In a way, it was like coming home. I had internalized so much of the setting that I didn't need to refer to anything to run it—from settings to NPCs to plots and events, I felt like I was in my element. And even though I had run this before, the styles of Philip and Sharon assured that this was anything BUT a repeat of past experience. We came to jokingly refer to the game as "The M.C." (a parody of the young-adult drama "The O.C."), due to the various romantic entanglements both characters got wound up in. Though the campaign only lasted a half-year, it was great fun for me—and I think for my players, too. 

In any case, I think I'm done blathering. Suffice it to say I will, through all these experiences, always hold a special place in my heart for the Minos Cluster—in all its incarnations.

p.s. If Forge or Tsijin are reading this—I still hate you guys.

Planet Profile: Pergitor

The planet Pergitor was introduced in Galaxy Guide 6: Tramp Freighters—which is possibly one of the best sourcebooks ever made for the Star Wars game. I say 'probably' because my own judgement is clouded by personal fondness for this book. In any case, this post is just a bit of a blurb about how I used Pergitor, and how it could be used in someone else's campaign.

As it's name would suggest, Pergitor isn't a very nice planet. It is a world of steaming jungles and volcanic wastes. And as if that weren't bad enough, it is ruled by corrupt and oppressive theocracy called the 'Church of Infinite Perception'. As with most of the planets in this guide, Pergitor is only sketchily described. But those sketches sparked my imagination and I ran with the idea (though truthfully, not until AFTER the first time I did the Minos campaign).

I expanded upon the idea of the Church by creating several agencies for it. The first of these were the 'Templar'. These were fanatical warriors (brainwashed) absolutely loyal to the corrupt hierarchy of the Church (i.e. they were the Church's version of Stormtroopers). To give them a unique look, I envisioned them wearing fearsome armor reminiscent to gothic full-plate armor complete with ornate religious symbols (in this case, the 'all-seeing-eye' of the Church). Instead of your typical weaponry, the Templar were equipped with 'Blast-Pikes'—a combination force-pike and blaster-rifle, heavy and fearsome looking. The Templar were responsible for enforcing order and obedience from the masses of the planet.

Keeping with the religious motif, I added the Inquisitors. As their name suggests, these are agents of the Church who root out 'heretics' and other troublemakers (i.e. anyone who stands against the Church). Thus, the Inquisition is the 'secret police' of the Theocracy, finding threats for the Templar to crush and otherwise making life miserable for the masses.

I tweaked the world itself a little, giving it a red sun to play up the 'hellish' aspect of living there (actually, I can't remember if it was ever specified what color the sun was...but anyway.) The main occupation there was working in the mines and smelting plants. So imagine an industrial nightmare with low-tech mines worked by millions of hapless citizens. Picture broken-down train rails hauling the ore up to gigantic smelting plants, belching pollution out into the already volcanic-ash-laden skies. Picture block upon block of crowded housing for the people, looked over by Templar and Inquisitors as loudspeakers constantly broadcast pseudo-religious doctrine. And then picture a massive palace-cathedral at the center of it all—from the outside stern and threatening damnation. Long lines of people march in and out—a constant 'conveyor belt' of mandatory worship. But behind this facade are the decadently luxurious private chambers of the high-clergy, where they indulge in every vice imaginable. Yeah. Now Pergitor really is living up to its name, huh? Anyway, it was just a fun thought—and hopefully it can be of use to someone in another campaign!

Oh, and by the way—no, I don't dislike organized religion, but I think when it goes bad, it can go REALLY bad (witness the Spanish Inquisition). 

Adventure Conversions

I am a pack rat and a collector of game books. It doesn't even matter what system they're from. If I see something I like in them, I'll buy them. Thus, I have a gaming library that is full of all sorts of adventures and sourcebooks from different game systems. As I peruse them from time to time, I get to thinking about how I could use adventures from one system in another. Since many of my books are old D&D stuff, those wind up getting a lot of thought in this department. So in this post, I'm going to discuss some of the adventures I think could be translated into a Star Wars setting.

Slave Lords

This series is one of the easiest translations in my opinion. The slavers would be raiding planets instead of coastlines, and each of their bases could be on a different world. The temple in Highport (Module A1) could be a remote 'pirate' type port on the Outer Rim. From there, you would learn the location of the Hill Fort (Module A2)—perhaps an old ruin on another planet. And finally, you could follow the trail to a seemingly barren and volcanic world which houses the 'Aerie' of the Slave lords (Modules A3-4) in a sheltered (domed?) valley. Since all these modules are relatively low-magic, you wouldn't have to change a whole lot. Even the various creatures can be explained away as Alien races or monsters (the Aspis Insect-Men, for instance). Markessa (from A2) could be a genetic scientist (thus explaining her bizarre and warped creations). As far as the Slave Lords themselves go, the mages and clerics among them could easily translate into minor Force Users (rogue sith, dark force 'mages', etc.). Since each of these adventures involves infiltration and (in most cases) rescue of slaves, it is an easy matter to avoid the 'nuke it from orbit' solution that can pop up with many Fantasy-to-Sci-Fi conversions.

Against the Giants

This one is a bit more tricky to handle than the Slave Lords. The setting is easy enough: Picture the remote agricultural world of Sterich. After defeating the native gigantic humanoid races of the planet, the settlers suddenly find themselves under concerted assault by highly organized bands of the brutes. The characters would be hired to come in and put an end to the assault (and find out who's behind it). It is...a bit more difficult in this adventure to avoid the use of starships and bombardment. The Steading of the Hill Giants (G1) could easily be strafed by your average PC ship—unless you give the Giants access to some anti-air weapons (supplied by their mysterious organizers?). The Glacial Rift (G2) and Halls (G3) would be more secure from Air assault, however, requiring players to go in on foot. But then, this all brings up the question of just HOW can characters battle giant humanoids. First of all, they could bring heavy weaponry (rocket launchers and heavy repeating blasters). Or, more interestingly, they could be supplied with a small amount of power-armor or even combat walkers. This is going to change the dynamics of the adventure considerably, but could still be kind of cool.

Descent into the Depths

Whether or not you get ambitious enough to convert the Giants adventure, the Descent series could still work. With the Giants, you find out that an evil, underground race is actually supplying them with arms and provoking the attacks. Without the Giants, perhaps local settlers in a remote system have suddenly disappeared or been attacked by unknown foes at night. In either case, the trail leads the characters deep underground, through the lairs of fierce cave-dwelling species and monsters. The adventure would culminate in the foul and degenerate lair of the Drow—whom I see as an entire race of force-sensitive and force-using evil near-humans who worship a force-warped and seemingly 'immortal goddess' Lolth—who could be a Force Spirit or simply a very ancient force user kept alive by draining others life force (or even ancient cloning technology). Including the 'Demonweb Pits' (with their extra-dimensional-gateway aspect) in all of this would be a bit more fantastic than my own tastes, though you COULD include the giant Spider-Ship thing if you wanted—Lolth's Creation that she intends to use to move to another world (or something).

Dwellers of the Forbidden City

This would make a fun adventure for an exploration-geared party—following rumors to a lost city in the midst of a thick jungle. Again, you'd have to find some way to rein in the use of Starships, otherwise, it could easily degenerate into a situation where the party simply strafes the locations of the bad guys then goes in to sift through the rubble. My suggestion to deal with this would be to have some ancient defensive mechanism still in place, either a shield or an ion thing of some sort that prevents flyovers. The remote nature of the city itself would mean the players would then have to go in on foot (and through the caverns) to reach it. Again, the monsters could easily be native species vying for control—with the Yuan-Ti being the remnants of a degenerate former race.

Ravenloft

I've actually run this one as a Star Wars conversion, and it seemed to work just fine. Strahd the Vampire becomes Strahd the Dark Jedi. To prevent use of starships is simple enough- the castle itself is defended by a shield generator deep beneath it. Of course the fact that innocents might be held captive in the castle would also be a deterrent to liberal use of aerial firepower. I remember I had to give Strahd a few more extreme force powers, however, to make him more vampiric—thus he was 'undead' in a way, not just a pale-skinned sith.

Tomb of Horrors

I haven't really looked to closely as to how this would translate—but it intrigues me nonetheless. Many of the deadly traps herein could be explained by various types of high-technology gizmos—perhaps even 'lost' technology from some ancient race. Of course the 'killer' tone of the module would (in my campaign at least) have to be cranked down a few notches—leaving it challenging, but not total-party-killing. The demi-lich himself would be difficult to handle, he could be a 'dark Jedi' or some such, but that may be too much cliche (considering a lot of the other 'magical' elements in adventures are easily force related). Perhaps the demi-lich in this is actually the mind of an ancient 'mad-inventor', now living in a computer system that monitors and controls the deadly traps in the tomb.

White Plume Mountain

I see this adventure much in the same vein as the Tomb of Horrors. A 'funhouse' of traps and the like accomplished through technology rather than magic. The monsters living within could even be cryogenically preserved and activated only when sensors detect the party entering. As far as the over-riding plot of the adventure (recovering the three weapon-artifacts) perhaps they're ancient Jedi/Sith heirlooms? Heh...Imagine a 'Blackrazor'-esque lightsaber. Booyah.

Expedition to the Barrier Peaks

Since it's about exploring a crashed alien ship, the translation of this adventure would be relatively easy to accomplish. In a Star Wars setting, however, it would become a lot more 'routine' than in its original form, as the whole aspect of learning how to use technological devices would be lost. 

Saltmarsh

The overall plot of the 'U' series modules is an interesting one. Consider a remote swamp planet with a small modern settlement (Saltmarsh). The locals notice strange goings on around an old (and supposedly haunted) ruins. The PCs are hired to check it  out and discover a smuggling ring operating in the area (U1)—and they seem to be supplying the primitive lizard-man tribes with arms! The PCs are then sent to try to pre-empt the imminent lizard-man attack (U2), only to discover that the arms aren't intended to be used against the settlement, but rather against a hostile tribe of sea-dwelling natives seeking the destruction of the lizard-men (and eventually conquest of the settlement). In the final installment (U3), the PCs team up with a band of lizard-men and townsfolk to attack the underwater lair of the bad-guy tribe. Yep. Seems to work for me, and it could be a fun aquatic adventure—not your typical setting.

Isle of Dread

You have to look no further than the King Kong movies to see how this adventure might be converted. A lost planet populated by fierce creatures and perhaps an ancient evil race (the Kopru). Though it is a cliche in Star Wars adventures, the best way to get players onto the planet (and keep them that way) is to have them crash-land (have the planet surrounded by some strange mist and magnetic fields that play havoc with their technology). Once on the ground, the search for parts from other crashed ships would keep them moving, even into the domains of the scary beasties. I figure some the 'native' tribesmen in this case would actually be the degenerate descendants of crashed starship crews, living behind gigantic fortress walls. The 'inland' natives could be ex-slaves of the now fallen Kopru empire, etc.

So anyway, these are just a few ideas with what I see are the most adaptable modules. I'm sure there are more if you put your mind to it—and once again, it shows to me the all-inclusive nature of the setting and just how many different things it can encompass.

Review: The Isis Coordinates

As modules and supplements came out for the Star Wars RPG, I eagerly scraped together my meagre resources to buy them all (or at least, I tried to). For several years it seemed that every thing I bought was of really excellent quality. The first real dip in this seemed to come with this module. To be honest, it may be more of an issue of personal taste, but this perception has stuck with me, even looking at the book years after the fact.

The adventure begins with the players stopping over at a secret Alliance shipyard (on the planet Isis)—only to discover an Imperial scout ship nosing around. The rebels manage to down the scout-ship, but are themselves disabled and have to give chase on foot over the rugged, crystal terrain of the planet. This sets up an encounter with the native crystalline-humanoid tribesmen (a typical 'prove your worthiness and friendship' situation). From there, the characters finally catch up with the Imperials, just as they break into the Rebel shipyards and steal a gunship! What follows is a 'Die-Hard' like situation, where the Imperials and Rebels are both onboard the stolen ship as it races away in hyperspace towards the Imperial fleet. The party tries to regain control while the bad guys try to stop (and or) kill them all. Whether or not they succeed in time, the characters wind up captured and are subsequently imprisoned and interrogated—only to escape at the last minute and sabotage the Imperial's nav computer, thus thwarting the Imperial attack on Isis.

In reading the above, you may already begin to see the signs as to why I have problems with this adventure. More than most of the preceding modules, the story line of Isis Coordinates is very railroady. The plot DEPENDS on their ship crashing (a big cliche used in a LOT of Star Wars adventures—and starting to get really old by this one). The plot DEPENDS on the players failing to stop the Imperials from boarding the gunship. The plot DEPENDS on the players being unable to recapture the ship in time to avoid being captured. In story adventures, there is often a bit of this kind of thing, but when you string so many situations like this together, it not only strains credulity, it is also frustrating to players.

Though it is probably blown more out of proportion in my mind than it actually was, I recall my players being just a little miffed at their seeming inability to affect the course of the plot. The instance I remember most vividly is when the players finally regained control of the gunship and subdued or otherwise neutralized the Imperials onboard. They were trying to fix the ship and get it turned around back to base when the Imperial Star destroyer arrived and took them onboard. Unfortunately for the Imps, the characters (through some ingenuity and good skill rolls) managed to get one of he gunship's missile launchers going. They fired a shot WITHIN the hangar bay. It messed up the destroyer, to be sure, but also damaged the gunship. The Imperials were unwilling to let them go, however—thus leaving the players with the very real choice of allowing themselves to be captured or blowing themselves up—which I informed them was a very real possibility if they fired another missile. Rick Oman's player (easily one of the most mild-mannered in the group) was certainly miffed at this point, but conceded In Character that they had called his bluff. He had to make the decision to try and 'live to fight another day'. But he didn't like it.

I can't help but equate this whole adventure to a Kobayashi Maru scenario in Star Trek. The no win situation. And honestly, it bothered me a little—though I only realized the extent of it as I ran it. To my player's credit, even frustrated, they got over it and reacted in character—toughing out the rest of the adventure and pulling together at the last to defeat the bad guys. But still, I didn't enjoy the sessions of this adventure as much as others. This is NOT the only time the players had ever had to face a losing situation. They got themselves into trouble on numerous occasions (Mission to Lianna). But this was one of those rare times where they were FORCED into the situation because that's how the adventure was designed.

Looking back on it, it was probably my fault for not modifying the adventure enough prior to running it. I say 'enough' because I DID actually modify it quite a bit (cutting out the whole scene with the native crystal-humanoids). But in any case, I was left feeling a bit put out by this module. And that was a rare thing with the RPG products up until this point. 

All this having been said, there are redeemable elements in the adventure—the whole 'Die Hard' concept is great fun (even if it had been done in Black Ice). This was a bit different, because the intention was to pit a party of exceptional player characters against a party of exceptional NPCs—not a bunch of lower-level 'grunts' or one high-power baddie. THAT more than anything stuck with me. In fact, this was the adventure where I came up with the concept of Rina Nothos—a recurring villain and nemesis in the campaign. She and one of her henchmen survived this adventure and put together another party that came back to plague the party again. 

The adventure also included an NPC undercover Rebel agent who helps the players out. I replaced the 'generic' guy in this slot with one the character's had encountered before (Tiree). Thus making him a recurring guest star (he went on to be in at least two other module adventures and more of my own). 

I'd previously talked about modifying and personalizing stock adventures. This is a prime example of that. I took a group of generic NPCs that had no ties to the players at all, and by switching them I was able to create a hook that added depth. 

But I digress into personal memories again. Back to the reviewy part—once you get over the railroad feel of the adventure (or write your way out of it), the module has the usual good things you'd expect from a Star Wars story: lots of action, interesting locales, puzzles (in this case actual handouts that you can use to try to repair vital components of the stolen gunship), and a large consequence for failure (thus giving it a bit more impact). 

Overall, the adventure was usable, but to me it never quite measured up to the quality of the other adventures. If I had it to do all over again, I would wind up re-writing an awful lot of it—mainly to take into account player character's tendencies to jump the tracks in any railroad situation.