DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 26D: Elestra Digs Deep

Jamill slammed back the last of his amber-colored drink. “Okay, this is your last chance. Who sent you?”

Elestra suddenly became aware that two rather large men with short clubs strapped to their thighs had suddenly materialized out of the crowd behind her. She stammered, unable to find any kind of answer that would satisfy Jamill.

Jamill jerked his head and headed towards the back of the bar. The two thugs laid their hands on Elestra’s arms. She got the message and let them hustle her out through the back door of the tavern.

When you have factions in your game, those factions should react to the actions of the PCs.

But if factions act as if they know every action the PCs take – as if they were omniscient, all-knowing entities with an eavesdropping device planted under the gaming table — that becomes a frustrating experience for the players and stifles their ingenuity.

There are a number of methods you can use for handling this, but I’ve generally gotten good results taking the decision out of my hands and mechanically determining it.

For example, you might have a random faction encounter check, similar to a random encounter check. For example, roll 1d6 once per day and if you roll a 1, some faction is going to take action against the PCs (or, at least, based on what they know about the PCs’ actions). Increase this to a 2 in 6 chance if the PCs have been making a lot of “noise.”

Another option is to mechanically check whether specific PC actions are detected by relevant factions (e.g., the faction they’re taking the action against or a faction that has them under surveillance). You can think of this as a stealth-type resolution, but at a more abstract level (and possibly using different skills).

Note: This is different than a situation where a faction DEFINITELY knows what the PCs are doing. For example, if the PCs break into a Renraku facility and get spotted by surveillance cameras or fight NPCs who escape and can identify them, you can just actively play Renraku’s response.

A key thing I recommend here is that the PCs should be able to influence the outcome of these mechanics, ideally in a way that involves meaningful choices by the players and is more than just an all-or-nothing decision to take or not take the risky action.

For example, the events in this session use the counter-intelligence system I shared here on the Alexandrian back in 2010. (When I originally mentioned them in this article and talked about the gameplay they made possible that otherwise would never have arisen, it was specifically this Ptolus campaign I was talking about.)

The other thing to note about these counter-intelligence mechanics is that they aren’t uni-directional: The players can also use them to figure out if people are asking questions about them.

In the case of this session, the impact on play was pretty straightforward:

• Elestra succeeded on her Gather Information check to gain information about the cult Iltumar was involved with.
• But the cult also succeeded on their counter-intelligence check to detect that Elestra had been asking questions about them, resulting in the ambush at the Onyx Spider.

Elestra really had dug a deep hole for herself here, and I thought it quite likely that the scenario was now going to turn into a rescue op by the other PCs. (Or possibly even somebody finding Elestra’s body in an alley. The decision not to tell anyone else in the group what she was doing was incredibly risky.) But she managed to turn the tables quite nicely.

Taking Jamill back to their rooms, on the other hand, was a potentially disastrous decision from a counter-intelligence standpoint: The bad guys didn’t know who Elestra was, but if they knew where she lived they’d be able to figure it out pretty quick.

Tee recognized the risk and took some very smart actions to blunt the counter-intelligence vectors that had been established. Just dumping Jamill somewhere would have left him free to continue trying to figure out who Elestra was and why she’d been asking questions. Running him out of town under the guise of the cult itself AND planting the idea that Elestra had been “dealt with” even if she decided to stay in town was both a plan and a contingency plan.

The follow-up decision to then use Jamill’s identity to infiltrate the cult itself was also smart play, and would shape how the entire scenario would play out.

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 27A – Running the Campaign: Missing Clues
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 26D: ELESTRA DIGS DEEP

August 24th, 2008
The 14th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

As two o’clock neared, Elestra headed to Tavern Row.

The Onyx Spider was a large, squat, two-story building wedged into the south end of Tavern Row. Elestra knew it to have a seedy and dangerous reputation. And as she passed through the front doors into the common room, it wasn’t hard to figure out where the tavern had gotten its name from: In the center of the room, levitating ten feet off the floor and embedded in a huge crystal sphere, was a giant spider carved from black onyx. It looked expensive.

Elestra spotted Jamill at the bar and pushed her way through the crowd to where he was standing.

“So you’re interested in the Brotherhood?” Jamill asked her, stonefaced.

Elestra nodded. “I might be interested in joining.”

“Might be?”

“I guess I just want to know about it.”

Jamill’s brow furrowed. “Right. Okay, who told you about the Brotherhood?”

Elestra hesitated. “A friend.”

“Who?”

“Well, it was more a friend of a friend… you know?”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t really… He kind of spoke to me in confidence and…”

Jamill slammed back the last of his amber-colored drink. “Okay, this is your last chance. Who sent you?”

Elestra suddenly became aware that two rather large men with short clubs strapped to their thighs had suddenly materialized out of the crowd behind her. She stammered, unable to find any kind of answer that would satisfy Jamill.

Jamill jerked his head and headed towards the back of the bar. The two thugs laid their hands on Elestra’s arms. She got the message and let them hustle her out through the back door of the tavern.

As they stepped through the door into the narrow alley behind the Onyx Spider, however, the two thugs briefly took their hands off Elestra. She immediately called upon the Spirit of the City and began her transformation in to a bird, hoping to fly away.

But the thugs were too quick for her. A large hand snapped out and grabbed the fragile sparrow-Elestra in mid-flight. She could feel it crushing the delicate bones of her new form and she was forced to abandon the attempt.

The two thugs reached for their clubs, but even as she landed lightly on the floor of the alley, Elestra was quick to draw her rapier. Her blade lashed out at the face of one of the thugs, cutting a deep gash through one cheek.

The thug screamed in pain, but even as Elestra grinned with satisfaction she felt the other thug’s club smash into her already aching ribs. Ignoring the blinding flash of pain, she spun around and cut a matching gash across the second thug’s cheek.

Jamill stepped out of the alley. He had drawn a longsword, but his swing seemed slow and clumsy to Elestra. She easily parried it and drove her own blade viciously past his defenses, skewering him through the stomach.

With a deep groan, Jamill let his longsword slip from his fingers and sank to the dirty cobbles of the alley. The two thugs stared at Elestra, glanced at each other, and then ran off in opposite directions.

Thinking quickly, Elestra grabbed Jamill (who had now slipped from shock into unconsciousness), threw him over her shoulder, and headed north towards the Ghostly Minstrel. Circumspectly circling around the inn, Elestra snuck in through the kitchen and headed upstairs.

She grabbed Agnarr from his room and left him to bind and blindfold Jamill in her room while she went back downstairs to leave a message with Tellith to let the others know that she would like them to come up to her room as soon as they returned.

TEE IS THE CLEVER ONE

Tee and Dominic arrived back at the Ghostly Minstrel together. Receiving Elestra’s message (by way of Tellith) they headed up to her room.

When they knocked, Elestra cracked the door slightly and peeked out at them. “Oh! Hello!” She visibly scanned the hall behind them to make sure that it was empty, then ushered them inside.

Agnarr was sitting on the bed with a vaguely bored expression on his face. Jamill was trussed up in the middle of the room, still unconscious. Elestra shuffled her feet nervously.

Tee looked back and forth between the three of them. “What am I looking at, exactly?”

Elestra, in a slightly disjointed fashion, explained everything that had happened. Tee was unbelieving. Wasn’t this exactly what she had told Elestra not to do?

“And then you brought him here?” Tee said, incredulously. “Why would you—“

Another knock came at the door. Tee quickly waved Elestra out of the way and cracked the door.

It was Tor.

“I had a message from Elestra to come up?”

Tee nodded. “Elestra has created a… situation.” She opened the door wide enough for Tor to see Jamill. “And it would probably be better if you weren’t part of this developing disaster.”

“Haven’t you just told him pretty much everything there is to tell?” Dominic said. “Just let him in.”

But Tor nodded to Tee and left. Tee shut the door.

“What—“ Elestra started.

“Shhh.” Tee cut her off. “Let me think.”

She had asked Elestra not to go asking questions, but she had. And now she was faced with almost exactly the type of situation she had feared: A cultist in their rooms, compromising whatever safety or security might be left at the Ghostly Minstrel. Anywhere else would have been—

“Elestra, I need you to go out and find a vacant warehouse. Somewhere far away from here. Try the South Market.”

“What are you—?”

“Just go. We’ve got to get this done before he wakes up.” Elestra left. Tee turned to Dominic and Agnarr. “You two stay here and keep an eye on him. If it looks like he’s going to wake up, knock him out again.”

Tee dashed out of the room and headed across Delver’s Square to Ebbert’s. She bought a strange, eclectic collection of material and then returned to the Ghostly Minstrel as quickly as she could.

By the time Elestra returned with the location of a suitable warehouse in the South Market, Tee had stripped down the common items she had purchased and assembled the makeshift components of a primitive disguise. Her biggest goal had been to make herself look human instead of elfish, hoping that would be enough to throw people off the trail if it came to that. (Of course, Elestra hadn’t been disguised at all… but there wasn’t much she could do about that.)

Tee had Agnarr and the others carry Jamill downstairs and load him into a carriage, making protestations as he went about how his friend had had “too much to drink”. Tee surreptiously joined them a few moments later. She bribed the carriage driver well and had him drop them off at the empty warehouse.

TEE HUSTLES

There was a dilapidated chair in the corner of the warehouse. She had Agnarr tie Jamill to it and then told everyone to wait outside.

“Will you be okay?” Agnarr asked.

“If not, you’ll hear me shouting. I have big lungs.” Tee gave a slightly nervous grin.

Once the others had left, though, she slipped the broken square ring that they had found in Pythoness House onto her finger and pushed those nervous feelings deep inside and set her face in a look of cold determination. Then she slapped Jamill awake.

“I’m ashamed of you.”

Jamill shook his head. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

Tee removed his blindfold, carefully making sure that he would see the ring on her finger without letting him know that she was trying to make sure he saw it.

Jamill shook his head again, trying to get his bleary eyes to focus. “What happened?”

“You couldn’t handle a little girl?” Scorn dripped from Tee’s voice. “A little girl who turns into a bird?”

Jamill suddenly turned surly. “She was tougher than she looked…”

“She’s been dealt with,” Tee said with a finality that made it clear that Jamill was lucky that he hadn’t been “dealt with”, too. “You’re an embarrassment. You’re embarrassing us. Get out of town. Don’t come back.”

And then she left him… still tied up.

BACK TO ELESTRA’S ROOM

Tee rejoined the others. She stripped off her disguise and they returned to the Ghostly Minstrel, gathering Ranthir and Tor on their way back to Elestra’s room.

They quickly compared their notes from the day. Tor filled them in on his fear that Iltumar might be followed by cultists, his meeting with Shim, and the news that they had been followed.

“But Shim said that it was an Imperial priestess.”

“What does that mean?” Elestra said.

“Do you think that the Church might be in league with the cultists somehow?” Tee said.

Dominic suddenly looked queasy and uncertain.

“Or perhaps there are just some members of the Church who are cultists,” Ranthir said. “The Truth of the Hidden God said that the Brotherhood of the Blooded Knife infiltrates religions.”

“Is it possible that Rehobath is working with Wuntad?” Elestra asked.

A flurry of panicky hypotheses followed, but then Tor held up his hands. “There’s something else you should all know.” He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to express something that felt like a confession. “I’ve started taking steps towards becoming a knight with the Order of the Dawn…”

“Congratulations!” Tee said, a huge smile spreading across her face. “That’s wonderful!”

“But that means,” Tor said, “That the priestess might have been following me. The Order might be keeping an eye on me to make sure that I don’t do anything unworthy.”

To a large degree, all of this left them back at square one: Tee hadn’t dared to ask Jamill any questions because it might have made him suspicious enough for her gambit to fail. They didn’t know how to interpret the information that Shim had given to Tor. All they’d really done was to confirm that Iltumar was tied up with some very dangerous people.

“As much as I hate to say it,” Tee said, “Elestra may have had the right idea. If we move quickly, I might be able to find someone else in the Brotherhood that I can talk to by using Jamill’s name as a contact… before he has a chance to warn them or they discover that he’s missing.”

This didn’t thrill any of them, but it seemed like their best chance at this point.

“Of course,” Tee said with a withering look in Elestra’s direction. “I’ll be taking proper precautions.”

And she walked out.

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Counterintelligence Vectors – Campaign Journal: Session 27A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

The Alexandrian’s newest video is the first part of a cover-to-cover Let’s Read of the 1974 Edition of D&D.

I find that a lot of Let’s Reads are basically just, “Hey! Look! There are words on the page!” Personally, I don’t find these particularly valuable because… well, I can just read it myself. My goal with this Let’s Read was to really dive into the history of D&D — not just how it came to be, but also how it was played and how that play evolved over time.

OD&D thus becomes a lens through which we can learn far more than just what’s on the page.

SPOILERS FOR CALL OF THE NETHERDEEP

One of the central gimmicks in Call of the Netherdeep is that there’s a party of rival adventurers who will dog the PCs’ path throughout the adventure.

It’s a cool gimmick, and the Rivals themselves — Ayo Jabe, Dermot Wurder, Galsariad Ardyth, Irvan Wastewalker, and Maggie Keeneyes — are excellent characters. Not only are they varied and flavorful, they’re also presented to the DM with tight, efficient briefing packets (p. 11-13) that make them easy to grasp as roles to be played.

Unfortunately, the presentation of the rivalry in the adventure can be underwhelming. There are three reasons for this.

First, the primary tool Call of the Netherdeep gives you for managing the Rivals’ relationship with the PCs is their relationship attitude:

• Friendly
• Indifferent
• Hostile

It’s a simple gauge, but its simplicity is not the problem. The problem is that it’s the wrong tool for the job of determining what the Rivals do. Or, more accurately, it’s cripplingly incomplete.

As a gauge, Friendly/Indifferent/Hostile only tells you HOW the Rivals choose to interact with the PCs: Do they help you or kill you?

This unidimensional relationship is flat, repetitive, and ultimately dead ends the Rivals’ role in the campaign: Either literally because the PCs kill them or figuratively because they end up as loyal lapdogs who simply support whatever the PCs decide to do.

Fundamentally:

• I want to kill you.
• I don’t care about you.
• I like you.

is not the description of a Rival.

Second, the adventure frequently attempts to script predetermined interactions with the Rivals. These largely don’t work because (a) predetermined scripts like this rarely work properly and (b) although some effort is made to make these scripts flexible, they nevertheless frequently end up in conflict with the relationship being otherwise pushed by the relationship gauge.

There will be countless examples of this in actual play, but here’s one directly from the book: Early in the campaign, the Rivals — if the relationship gauge is Friendly — offer to join the PCs and work with them on the quest. The book then simply assumes that this never happened because all of the scripted interactions require the Rivals to NOT be working with the PCs.

Third, the adventure struggles with the lack of a clear, actionable agenda for much of its length.

This is a deeper problem with the structure of Call of the Netherdeep that extends beyond the Rivals, but it’s specifically problematic here because a “rival” is someone who competes with you to achieve a common objective; for superiority in a common activity.

This works to a certain extent when the PCs first meet the Rivals, because they are literally racing each other to obtain a prize item in the Emerald Grotto.

But then it stops working.

This is partly because a gauge that only outputs “I want to help you!” or “I want to kill you!” isn’t conducive to competing for a common goal. Partly it’s because the railroaded structure of the campaign breaks it. (You can’t actually race someone if they’re scripted to always show up at the next cutscene.)

Mostly it’s because the stakes of the campaign aren’t really made clear.

For example, at the beginning of Chapter 2, an NPC tells the PCs to go to the city of Bazzoxan because they’ve acquired an artifact from the Calamity and “there is no place in Xhorhas where the memory of the Calamity lingers more strongly than in Bazzoxan.”

But that’s notably not actually a reason to go to Bazzoxan. Just think about the immediate follow-up question from the players:

“And what do we do when we get there?”

If you can’t answer that question, then you don’t actually have a reason to go. Which is why, when the PCs get to Bazzoxan, the book assumes they’ll just kind of wander around aimlessly until they randomly bump into the plot. And the immediate problem here is that, “Go to Bazzoxan and then wander around until you bump into the plot” isn’t something you can have a Rival in, because there’s no actual goal to be achieved.

So if you’re running Call of the Netherdeep (or similar rival groups in other campaigns), what SHOULD you do?

STEP 1: ROLEPLAY TRUTHFULLY, PLAY ACTIVELY

In DMing the Rivals, I would not spend a lot of time trying to follow the scripted events in the book. Focus on tracking the Rivals’ relationship with the PCs and then just roleplaying them truthfully.

Broadly speaking, there are five courses of action that the Rivals are likely be pursuing at any point in the campaign:

• Working in partnership with the PCs.
• Convinced the PCs need help even if the PCs won’t let them, thus following the PCs around.
• Independently trying to figure out how to help Alyxian.
• Concluding that this isn’t any of their business and exiting the campaign to go do other things.
• Seizing the Jewel (and possibly trying to kill the PCs) and taking charge.

One of these modes of action may dominate the entire campaign, or it’s possible that the Rivals will be constantly shifting between modes. It’ll depend on how things play out at the table. Either way, you goal is to freely riff on these modes of action by continually asking, “What would the Rivals do?”

In other words, actively play the Rivals in the same way that your players are actively playing their PCs.

RIVALS IN CHARGE: It’s also possible that the Rivals can end up with the Jewel of Three Prayers, the PCs respect that, and the PCs volunteer to work for them. (This is relatively unlikely without rewriting some stuff early in the campaign, but it’s still a possibility.)

In my opinion, this is actually a far more challenging position to be in as a DM: If the PCs are in the driving seat, reacting to what they’re doing can be almost entirely reflexive and it’s trivial to keep the players in the spotlight. If the Rivals end up in charge, it can be much more difficult to make decisions for them without being biased by your behind-the-scenes knowledge of the campaign. And it’s much more difficult to keep the PCs in the spotlight.

Check out Calling in the Big Guns and Calling in the Little Guys: The situation here is not exactly comparable, but you may find some of the principles there useful. In particular:

• Have the Rivals ask the PCs what they think should be done. (The Rivals may or may not agree, but it’s probably a good idea to have them use the PCs’ ideas frequently.)
• Have the Rivals assign the PCs an important objective to achieve while the Rivals are doing something else. (And try to arrange things so that, at least some of the time, whatever the PCs are doing turns out to actually be the crucial thing.)

STEP 2: DEBATE THE AGENDA

The creative goal, of course, is for the Rivals to actually BE the rivals of the PCs.

The key to achieving this is the Principle of Opposition: Whatever the PCs think is the right course of action? The Rivals have the opposite opinion.

To understand the power of this, let’s consider the end of the campaign. The adventure finally puts its cards on the table and the PCs are given a fairly clear choice: Free the Apotheon, Help the Apotheon, or Kill the Apotheon. (And there are strong arguments for each.)

As for the Rivals?

DEALING WITH THE RIVALS

Rivals who follow the characters into the Heart of Despair behave in one of two ways, depending on their attitude toward the characters:

Friendly or Indifferent Rivals. The rivals allow the characters to deal with Alyxian in whatever manner they see fit, fighting alongside them if need be.

Hostile Rivals. The rivals attack the characters.

They’re stuck on the broken relationship gauge: Loyal lapdogs or furious murders.

But what happens if you instead use the Principle of Opposition:

PC: We have to free him.

Ayo Jabe: We can’t do that! He’s mad! You’ll doom the world!

Or:

PC: We have to help him.

Galsariad: He’s beyond help. Corrupted with power. There’s no option except to exterminate him.

Or:

PC: We have to kill him.

Maggie: But he’s in pain! You can’t just murder him! He deserves to be free!

The relationship gauge tells you HOW the Rivals oppose the PCs’ agenda:

• Hostile? They’re going to go with aggressive negotiations.
• Friendly? It’ll be a debate.
• Indifferent? Heated argument that could go either way.

In practice, the PCs probably won’t be a united front, which will give you the freedom to split up the Rivals’ opinions, too, so that the debate can boil out into a multifaceted argument. In fact, maybe the whole thing fractures apart, with PCs and Rivals both forming new alliances and turning on each other.

The key thing here is that the opposition of the Rivals will force the players/PCs to think about what they believe. It will force them to have an active agenda and an opinion about how best to achieve that agenda. And then they’ll need to DEFEND both.

That process — thinking, forming opinions, defending those opinions — will make the players invest deeply in the campaign.

Of course, the Rivals don’t need to be completely intransigent pains-in-the-butt at every single moment. Sometimes they’ll align with the PCs (because they’re friends or as grudging enemies towards a common goal). And sometimes the PCs should be able to change their minds.

(You may be surprised when the Rivals also start changing the players’ minds. Play fair in the battlefield of ideas and your players will engage with those ideas. And with those characters.)

Go to Part 2: Setting the Agenda

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 26C: A Disposition of Treasure

To kill the time, Elestra grabbed some newssheets and started asking around about recent events in the city. After spending several days in Ghul’s Labyrinth, she was still feeling a little disconnected.

On the 12^th, a man named Doonhin – a salt merchant in the South Market – was accused of killing his wife by throwing her off the Stormwrought Campanile. Doonhin has been pleading his innocence, claiming to have been magically charmed by a sorcerer.

On the 13^th, there had been another Flayed Man killing. This one had taken place in the Guildsman’s District, suggesting that the killer might be moving out of the Warrens.

And only a few hours earlier, around noon, the Rat’s Nest – a pub on Tavern Row – had been vandalized.

In Smart Prep, I discuss the use of background events: a timeline of events that don’t directly involve or affect the PCs, but which are nevertheless a part of the world they live in. These events can manifest themselves as:

• newspaper headlines
• random rumors
• topics of casual conversation
• incidental details contextualizing revelations

And so forth.

They may have some non-direct but practical function – foreshadowing, exposition, etc. – but they’re often just about the world existing. Because in a real, living, breathing world, of course, things happen all the time that aren’t about you.

An example I like to use is a campaign set in New York city during World War II. The PCs aren’t soldiers; they aren’t going to the front lines. But the newspapers are going to be filled with D-Day and Saipan the 1944 election. That’s the type of stuff (along with local news and gossip) that will appear in your list of background events.

Like World War II, many background events will persist – evolving and developing over time. They can be a little like short stories seen at a great distance. Depending on the campaign, I’ll usually try to have a few of these “short stories” running at any given time, but I’ll also make sure to mix in a few completely random tidbits to flesh things out. In the example above, the Tavern Row vandalism is the beginning of a new event sequence, but the murder(?) at the Stormwrought Campanile is a one-off.

In a fluid campaign – particularly a sandbox – you may find that background events sometimes become foreground scenarios (and vice versa). There tend to be two common forms of this.

First, the PCs get involved. This may be the result of a player getting curious: they hear about a background event and think, “That sounds interesting,” and start nosing around. That might go nowhere or it might lead to the background event suddenly being very much an active part of the campaign.

This can also happen when the GM uses the background event as an active tool to respond to PC actions. The events are designed to be flexible tools – to be used in conversations as background details, etc.

For example, you’ve got a series of background events running about Triad attacks in Shanghai. The PCs need some hired muscle and they start asking around about who they can hire. You don’t have anything prepped for that, so you reach for the Triads that you know are part of the setting. The Triads are willing to help the PCs, but they’re going to need a favor in return. What type of favor? Well, maybe they’d like to retaliate against the rival Triad who bombed a restaurant under their protection (as previously detailed in a background event).

Now the background events aren’t in the background at all.

In the other direction, scenario hooks that the PCs choose to ignore can quite naturally transition into short background event sequences. The Flayed Man killings, above, are actually an example of this: the players in the campaign just kind of ignored the related hook and the timeline of Flayed Man killings I’d jotted down in my scenario outline simply played out.

(The scenario itself, in this case, was never fully prepped: The PCs didn’t follow that lead, so I didn’t do the prep.)

Some people get really antsy about this, declaring it “railroading” if, for example, the Flayed Man killings keep happening because the killer hasn’t been caught yet. But that’s not the case. As I’ve mentioned before, choices have meaningful consequences is the opposite of railroading (in which you choices are negated).

By the same token, it may be useful to remember that the function of background events is to demonstrate that the world doesn’t revolve around the PCs: Every job they turn down shouldn’t automatically end in utter disaster. It’s probably more likely, in fact, that the person trying to hire them finds somebody else to do the job (and do it successfully).

Letting action flow offscreen and into the background events is a great way to make the players feel as if they’re really living in the world and that their actions have meaningful and far-reaching consequences that persist even when they can’t see it. And giving players the freedom to engage with background events and make them suddenly the focus of the game is a great way to make the world feel huge and real; as if the PCs could go anywhere or open any door and find a living, breathing world waiting for them.

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 26D – Running the Campaign: Counterintelligence Vectors
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index