I don’t get it. I really don’t.

You can shout as loud as you want about loving or hating a particular edition of a game all you want. The louder you shout the less likely I am to listen to you though. Try and tell me that the way I play my games doesn’t fit into your idea of an RPG and it’s a guaranteed way to get me to ignore you.

So why is it I’m getting sucked into the old school revival fights. I’m not commenting on anyone’s blog supporting one view or another and I’m not getting involved in any threads on the various forums. But at the end of the day it’s still having an effect on me. I see fellow bloggers wanting to give up because it’s just not worth it and others gaining a form of celebratory status because they can type louder than anyone else.

I’ve been playing RPG’s for over 20 years. I’ve ran the entire gamut of games from the original version of D&D right through Rolemaster, MechWarrior, Twilight 2000 to the Storyteller systems. I’ve played in games where the story is the main thing and didn’t roll a dice in months. I’ve played in games where we’ve took 20 hours of gameplay to clear the smallest of dungeons thanks to random encounters and really bad player created maps meaning it takes us forever to escape. Whenever someone tries to define what old school or new school is I sit and tick off most of the points that apply to myself. I sit firmly in the middle and get the best of both worlds as and when I want to play a certain kind of game.

If you want to call yourself a Grognard then go ahead. Personally I’m just a person that’s happy to play OD&D if that is the system that best suits the game we want to play. I play AD&D because I have all the books and know the rules. If I could afford all the books I’d need for 4e I’d probably play that as well.

I guess what I’m saying is I’m fed up with folk shoving their opinions down my throat when at the end of the day it’s a game we’re playing and it’s supposed to be about fun. If your idea of fun isn’t the same as mine then feel free to leave and go play your game elsewhere and shut the hell up. In other words…enjoy what you play and how you play it. We have such a diverse range of games these days that there is something for everyone. Stop trying to pigeonhole them and get stuck in to the game.

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In keeping with the latest meme doing the rounds I thought I’d take my online usernames* and create something that may be of use to anyone out there in RPG land.

Bojira
The origins of the beast known as Bojira are shrouded in mystery but over the years one story seems to crop up over and over again. Can we take any truth from this popular story or is it just that… a story.

At some point during the late 1990’s the Spanish island of Tenerife not far off the coast of Africa was the destination of choice for many families looking for a quiet holiday but it also contained a more youthful element that liked to take their partying seriously and could be seen dancing, drinking and fighting their way through into the very small hours of the night.

A group of young Scotsmen arrived one summer and stayed in the lovely Los Christianos which was off the beaten track for most of the party animals and the beasts that stalk the night. Little did they know that on the forth night of their stay on the island something terrible would happen.

The evening started as usual with a few beers in the apartment before the long walk into Playa de las Americas. They had noticed the forest fires burning near the peak of the volcano in Teide National Park and at night it looked like the volcano was close to erupting. Little did they know just how close that came to being true. They started off at one end of the strip with the intent on reaching The Crows Nest at the other end by 2am with everyone hopefully still standing. What the didn’t bank on was getting lost and split up in amongst some of the pubs deep within the maze of buildings that comprise the strip.

Three of the friends managed to find a friendly looking bar where the locals took great joy in buying them drinks and as the night went on they soon forgot about their rendezvous at the other end of the street. Then they started to lose one another as well. First Paul was dragged away to another pub by some Liverpudlian he met and then Barry was seduced by a tall African woman dressed head to toe in leather. At that point they really should have seen it coming. Finally the last friend, Bob, was piled into the back of a taxi by a few of the locals and taken away.

The next morning everyone awoke to find the living room of the apartment ransacked. Bob’s bed was in pieces on the floor and the fridge door had been literally ripped from it’s hinges. Empty packets of biscuits and cakes strewn all over the floor and empty bottles of alcohol thrown against the walls. The front door was lying wide open as well. No one could remember the previous night after leaving the apartment and they were worried. The police turned up to take statements but nothing else was said. You could tell by the fear in their eyes though that something was up.

That night a local supermarket was ransacked and 2 of the staff were dismembered and chewed upon. The CCTV footage recovered was very limited but you could definitely work out that whatever did it was not a human or at least wasn’t a human any more. For the next few weeks as the forest fire burned farmers talked of losing the occasional sheep or cow to a predator and it was happening more often as time went on.

The final part to the story that any local is willing to talk about is of seeing a young man that looked very much like Bob from the beginning of the story enter one of the busy nightclubs on the strip. About 30 minutes later something more akin to a giant bear crawled out leaving behind a trail of destruction that left nobody alive within the walls of that club.

The stories go that whatever happened that first night he was changed and it was the power of the volcano that drove him insane and provided the means to create so much destruction. The locals fear this so much they have taken to providing sacrifices to the volcano again in the hope that it will appease it and keep the beast known locally as Bojira from destroying their island and their homes.

* Over most of the internet I am known as Bobzilla and this is actually very close to how I came to be given that name. No animals were hurt in the production of story and characters may be based on real life individuals though if they can remember that night they are doing far better than I straight away.

So yeah how did this come about? Well there was a bit of chat on Twitter about The Chatty DM actually being the Chatty Den Mother. Hammer took it from there and on to the RPG Bloggers Google Group and Vulcan Steve is hosting the list of them. Amazing what can come from a few throw away lines on Twitter isn’t it?

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Part of The Hunger Campaign Setting

“Confirmed soft seal on the airlock. The door mechanics look fine but the electronics looked fried. Have we had any luck with the internal scans yet?”
“Negative Captain. All we can pick up is that there is power but beyond that we’re stumped.”
“So nothing on Life Support or any life signs at all?”
“Again that’s a negative. All we have on that is that the airlock is sealed on the other side. If you blow the door we won’t be risking decompression of our ship.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Kyle get me a cutting torch and lets get into this thing.”
“Captain, I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”
“Look Kyle, once we’re in we get what we need and get out. We aren’t on a salvage mission here. We head for the engine room and get us a fresh core and on the way back stop off at the galley and see if there’s anything that will stop Chef feeding us that bio-sludge he keeps forcing on us. If you come across any cargo that looks tasty then you find the manifest. We’re only going back in for seconds if it’s worth the risk.”
“I know, it’s just that no-one leaves a ship that’s in as good a shape as this out here in the middle of nowhere for no good reason. It just strikes me as a really bad horror film waiting to happen.”
“Teeb that’s the locks cut so we’re about to head in. Keep your eye on the screens and tell us if anything looks dodgy. Keep comms to a minimum but keep in touch. I think Kyle will be glad to know your still there.”
“OK, entering the airlock now. Internal power seems to be running and the controls are lit up. OK lets do this thing.”
“Kyle was that supposed to make me think you weren’t scared any more?”
“And we’re in.”
“Are you getting this back in the ship? I’m getting a warning light showing up in my helmets HUD.”
“Your vid feeds coming through OK Captain. A little jumpy at times but good none the less.”
“Here, no wonder we didn’t pick anything up on the scans. This place is dead. My suits sensors say the air is stale but breathable and apart from the doors everything seems to be turned off. No CO scrubbers up and running and the computer terminals are dead.”
“Captain, now that the doors off we’re getting some telemetry coming through but bulk of the ship is still killing us.”
“Thanks Teeb. If you see anything be sure and let us know. We know how you get distracted by shiny things.”

…

“Just two minutes ’til I can get this core out Captain. This place is creeping me out. It’s too damn quiet.”
“Relax Kyle. I’ve got you and the Captain on the scanners and that’s it. It feels empty because that’s what it is.”
“Right kids. I see between you you’ve got the core secure and our backs covered. I caught sight of interesting boxes on the way in so I’ll leave Kyle to it and try and find that manifest I was talking about. I want the wreck cleared in five minutes and on our way in ten OK?”
“Sure thing, boss.”

…

“Right Kyle let’s get out of here. There’s nothing worth selling so let’s go.”
“Kyle?”
“Teeb, I can’t raise Kyle can you get through?”
“Kyle this is Teeb. Can you here me?”
“It must be the core Captain. I’ve been barely able to pick up your chatter while you’ve been in there since he opened up shielding”
“He must be having problems getting it to the exit. I’ll head back in and give him a hand. Get those engines warmed up. I don’t want to get caught out here with our pants down with those navy ships kicking about.”

…

“Come on Kyle I thought you said you’d only be two minu…”
“What the fuck?”
“TEEB!”
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID WE WERE ALONE?”
“SHIT, TEEB I’M OUT OF AMMO. GET OUT OF HERE.”
“Captain what’s going on?”
“IT’S EATING HIM! OH MY GOD!”
“JUST GET OUT OF HERE. GO!”
“OH GOD IT’S COMING FOR ME. TEEB DON’T COME BA…”

---

I started writing this campaign setting during Nanowrimo 2009. Obviously I never completed it but it’s about time I posted up what I did manage to write which should hopefully give me the kick I need to finish it off. I don’t know why but I always start my settings off with a few lines of fiction. No one but myself ever gets to read them however as my players never get to see my campaign notes usually. So count yourselves lucky or if the writing is as bad as it usually is I’ll get my apologies in early.

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