The Sutra of Pale Leaves: Carcosa Manifest, Available at Gen Con in limited pre-release!

While I will not physically be at Gen Con, I will be there in sinister, psychedelic spirit. "Wonderland," which premiered in Nagoya, Japan just two weeks ago, will be available in The Sutra of Pale Leaves: Carcosa Manifest, in a limited Gen Con pre-release!

When a horrific and inexplicable act of self violence happens at a Tokyo high school, your Investigators fall down a rabbit hole where nothing makes sense and nothing and no one are what they seem. Play the Pale Prince's game... 

“93. In the Garden of Wonders, the Chosen Disciples remove the masks forced upon them in the womb. 94. There, in beds of black henbane and laughing mushroom, fevered reason lies dead and Self becomes a riddle that only silence can answer. 95. There the Chosen abandon themselves to the Court of the Pale Prince, laughing as they dance the Riddle of the Leaves. 96. These are those who know that the Court is the Garden, that the Garden is the Chosen, and that the Chosen are the Prince. 97. And in their dancing, only the Prince is there, dancing for the empty hall.”

—Sutra of Pale Leaves, 93–97

MALLEUS MONSTRORUM 2nd EDITION: THE REVIEW

Monstrosity fascinates us because it appeals to the conservative Republican in a three-piece suit who resides within all of us. We love and need the concept of monstrosity because it is a reaffirmation of the order we all crave as human beings . . . and let me further suggest that it is not the physical or mental aberration in itself which horrifies us, but rather the lack of order which these aberrations seem to imply…

Stephen King, Danse Macabre

HERE THERE BE MONSTERS

WEIGHING IN at a cyclopean 480 pages, divided across two volumes—Vol 1 Monsters of the Mythos and Vol 2 Deities of the Mythos—the second English language edition of Chaosium’s Malleus Monstrorum is a full-color feast for the eyes and the absolutely essential compendium of Lovecraftian deities and denizens for the seventh edition Call of Cthulhu RPG.  Unlike many books of this kind, the Malleus is not merely a Keeper (GM) reference book.  For reasons we will explore below, this is a book every player can enjoy.

To be clear we are reviewing the PDF here.  Because there really is not that much you can say about a collection of monsters in a review (“um...so, okay, it’s like got a lot of monsters and stuff in it...”) we will be digging deep into some of the background of the volume (Now About That Name) and what distinguishes it from the first edition (A Matter of Monsters).  The third section, A Look Within, covers the nitty gritty details.  So pour yourself a brandy, draw a chair up beside the fire, and let us peruse this blasphemous tome of lore together.

NOW, ABOUT  THAT NAME...

PERHAPS THE FIRST OFFICIAL “MONSTER MANUAL” crawled its way out of the shadows in the late 15th century. To be clear, we aren’t talking about the “bestiary” or bestiarum vocabulum here.  That, as a literary tradition, extends at least as far back as Aristotle.  No, this isn’t about catalogues of animals and living creatures or any sort of “fantastic beasts and where to find them.” We mean a monster manual…an instruction manual, if you will, in the art of exterminating abominations.  The honor of originating that sort of tome, gentle reader, probably has to go to Catholic clergyman Heinrich Kramer.

Now before we deal with Kramer, let us linger a moment on that word, “monster.”  The word comes to us from the Latin monstrum, which indicates a curse, or a warning, from the gods.  A monstrum—a deformity or malformity—makes us aware of the deities’ displeasure.  When your cow gives birth to a two-headed calf, it is the gods telling you something,  This “making aware of” aspect of the word links it to ones like demonstrate or remonstrate.  It signals to us that a monster isn’t just an aberration, but a sign.

File that away.  We are coming back to it in the next section.

Now, for Heinrich Kramer, a calf born with two heads, curdled milk, impotence, failed crops, and other similar monstrum were all signs of the same thing; witches.  Thus in 1487 he authored the first great monster manual, the Malleus Maleficarum.  While this volume of fever-dreams and misogynistic ramblings didn’t technically start the witch trials of the next two centuries—Pope Innocent VIII’s Summis desiderantes affectibus was the technical culprit—the Malleus was clearly the accelerant.  

The “Hammer of the Witches” reads like a modern horror novel, and like a good work of horror fiction it is really about rubbing our faces in our own phobias and complexes than anything else.  For Kramer, the complex clearly was with women.  He could have just as easily called his work the Malleus Maleficorum, with an “o” rather than an “a,” but he intentionally selected the feminine title.  This is in character with the man.  Two years before the Malleus saw publication, Kramer had put Helena Scheuberin, the wife of a wealthy burgher, on trial for witchcraft.  Described as “an independent woman not afraid to speak her mind,” Kramer had been so much more obsessed with her sexuality and toilet habits during the trial than with spells and devil worship that she was acquitted and the Bishop of Innsbruck expelled the clergyman for insanity.  Unable to let go of it, Kramer took his obsession and fear and wrote the book that made him famous.  A guide for hunting witches.

Five centuries later, when author Scott David Aniolowski had assembled a compendium of horrors for the Call of Cthulhu roleplaying game, Frank Heller and German game company Pegasus Spiel suggested a title that referenced Kramer and his “Hammer of the Witches” directly.  That title, Malleus Monstrorum, worked on a surprising number of levels.  

On one hand, Malleus Monstrorum might be the most “on-the-nose” title for an RPG game book of this kind.  “Hammer of the Monsters” pretty much describes the role monsters have played in RPGs since the beginning.  To borrow an old Japanese proverb, they are the nails that stick up, and it is the job of player characters to hammer them down.  This has been tradition since that other alliterative tome, the AD&D Monster Manual.  Never mind that the act of monster hammering in Call of Cthulhu involves a great deal more madness, gibbering, and unspeakable horror than most other RPGs, it still boils down to player characters ridding the world of monsters.    

One the other hand, Malleus Monstrorum is very specifically suited to this particular RPG.  In a game where the player characters are called “Investigators,” a reference to arguably the most famous manual for “Inquisitors” (from the Latin, “one who searches for answers”) was a perfect fit.  That Cthulhu Investigators spend much of their time quite literally hunting witches—or “cultists”—only serves to deepen the parallel.  Further, one cannot read Lovecraft’s descriptions of the orgiastic rites of Cthulhu’s worshippers, or the depiction of witch-cults in pieces like “The Dreams in the Witch House,” without thinking of Kramer’s fevered depictions.  That Lovecraft had read the Malleus is known—“Koenig has all the famous old witchcraft books of the Middle Ages—like the "Malleus Maleficarum", which I'm now borrowing from him” (H. P. Lovecraft to Emil Petaja, 29 Dec 1934, LWP 396—but from his writings it is very clear that Lovecraft’s notions of witches in general owes much to it.  Kramer’s shadow lies across many of Lovecraft’s pages.

A MATTER OF MONSTERS

The titular switch from Maleficarum to Monstrorum is a critical distinction, however, and here we come to an essential component of Chaosium’s new 2nd edition. As an exhaustive compendium of Call of Cthulhu horrors, the first edition was without peer.  Part of its tremendous charm was its art direction and illustration; departing from usual approaches, it showed impressions of its horrors captured in woodcuts, sculpture, period posters, etc.  We never saw the monsters, but rather people’s impressions of the monsters.  This is “good Lovecraft,” as Lovecraft understood what it is exactly that makes monsters work;

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown...” 

Lovecraft, Supernatural Horror in Literature

Of the two critical elements distinguishing a Call of Cthulhu monster from one in, say, D&D, the unknown surely must be the first.  Lovecraft jettisoned gothic horrors because they were too familiar; his barely described and largely indescribable terrors horrified because they could not be quantified or categorized.  The art of the first edition was an expression of this principle. 

The second edition accentuates it, however, by moving some of the material stuck in the first edition’s appendices right up front and expanding on it.  The entire first chapter is now about not describing the monsters, or rather, describing them in a way that keeps the unknown front and center.  “The moonlight splashes across its matted fur, the silver lost in inky black patches that might be ichor, might be blood...long and lanky, it lopes towards you, a muzzle vaguely canine, features vaguely human.”  Is it a werewolf?  Is it a ghoul?  Something else?  The crux of the entire first chapter is how to make any of the entries that follow unknowable, using the senses and impressions rather than just announcing “you see a Deep One” and plopping a miniature on the table.

Again, all this was in the appendices of the first edition, but the second edition makes it a priority.  In fact the second volume, which covers the deities of the Mythos, begins in exactly the same way, and explains its reasoning; 

The Cthulhu Mythos is unknowable to humanity. What scraps of information are known are drawn from rare and fragmentary texts, conversations with wizards and witches, and from life-altering exposure. Thus, each entry highlights the often-conflicting data concerning these beings, leaving each Keeper to draw their own conclusions and mold the entities to fit their own concept of the Mythos. What “canon” exists is loose and unreliable. 

This makes the second edition of Malleus a book that even players can enjoy and have on their shelves.  No two Keepers will run monsters the same way, and if they follow the advice in these tomes, it won’t matter really if the players have read the entries.

This brings us the the second critical point concerning the Mythos and its monsters.

Humans filter their perceptions through the world as they understand it. For some who receive a glancing touch of the Mythos, perhaps a fleeting vision or dream, the connection to the entity sending the “message” is unreliable and vague, causing such messages to be misunderstood. The truths held within such communications are mostly lost, with such humans having no genuine appreciation or conception of what took place... (Vol 2, p. 12)

We spoke earlier of monsters as being a “sign” from the gods.  In the ancient world, the monstrous was evidence of the gods’ displeasure.  In the Middle Ages, the monstrous was often evidence of Satan at work.  With the Enlightenment, and the rise of Gothic literature as a direct result, the monstrous in these tales was often evidence that we were wrong; that the new age of Science and Reason was mistaken and that the old medieval world of supernaturalism still held sway.  Lovecraft took the monstrous in a new direction.  In the Mythos, the monstrous is not so much an aberration, but evidence that our very concept of order is an error.  We cannot know the truth, our minds are incapable of grasping it.  The second edition is very aware of this, and this awareness is present on every page.

A LOOK WITHIN

Now for the details.

Authors Mike Mason and Paul Fricker join original Scott David Aniolowski for the second edition, with cover and interior art by Loïc Muzy.  Volume 1, Monsters of the Mythos is a 218 page PDF, Volume 2, Deities, is 266.  As mentioned both are full color, and the fonts, lay out, and over all style is identical to over 7th edition Call of Cthulhu products.  The editing, clarity of prose, and user-friendliness that Cthulhu has had under the watchful eye (well, probably eyes) of Mike Mason is all evident here.  

Monsters contains more than 15o entries, and after the foreword, consists of a chapter on running and creating monsters (described above), one on creatures of the Mythos, creatures from folklore, and finally beasts (animals).  There is a guide to pronunciation and an extensive index.  Deities starts with another introduction, a lengthy chapter on the unknowable gods of the Mythos, the god’s themselves, then another pronunciation guide and index.

As touched on above, each entry gives a Keeper a spectrum of choices to make in describing and tailoring the monsters.  With gods this often takes the form of avatars and manifestations.  Hastur, for example, is described with separate avatars like the Amber Elder, the Ravening One, and of course the King in Yellow.  Cthulhu appears as B’Moth, Chorazin, and Leviathan.  Monster entries all include alternate names and whatever detail on subspecies or technology is appropriate.  The total effect of all of this is to give Keepers a palette of Mythos beings with which to paint their own campaigns, driving home the point that no two encounters with Shub Niggurath or Yog Sothoth should ever be the same. 

Obviously all entries conform to the style and mechanics  specifics of the 7th edition.

I cannot not say something about the art.  On the whole, I have let it speak for itself by gracing this review with it. Muzy is clearly a singular talent, and his images are jaw-dropping.  As with the RuneQuest Glorantha Bestiary, which also chose to use a single artist, the unity of vision Muzy brings to the project elevates it.  If I was forced to complain, I would probably have to settle on the complaint that there is not an illustration for every entity.  In fact, there are not a lot of illustrations for many entities.  I am not clear if this is a function of not wanting to work poor Loïc to death or a feature of the approach the text itself takes (again the emphasis is on not showing the monsters, making excessive illustration counter-productive).  Regardless, the art feels sparse.  What is there, however, is some of the best we have seen.  Again, ignore my two cents and just gaze upon the covers.  

FINAL THOUGHTS

Let’s not pretend here.  Alongside The Grand Grimoire of Cthulhu Mythos Magic and the core rulebooks, the new Malleus Monstrorum forms a kind of unholy “must-have” trinity.  Often when I get review copy PDFs I question whether or not I will invest in print copies.  I live in downtown Tokyo.  Bookshelf space is at a premium. But owning the print version of this is not even a question in my mind, nor should it be in yours.  It is, without doubt, the definitive Call of Cthulhu monster guide.  It has absolutely everything you could possibly want from a Cthulhu product; true to Lovecraft with room for Keepers and players to deviate, respect for the fact this is a literary tradition while at the same time bringing 40+ years of Chaosium game design, merciless editing and top shelf production values.  So really there is no point in fighting gravity here.  You want this.  You want the PDF.  You want the hardcovers.  You want the inevitable leatherette editions to come.  This is all a forgone conclusion.  The good news is, the text backs your desires up.  There are monster manuals and then there is the Malleus Monstrorum. 

Kramer might have gotten there first, but Chaosium has perfected the art form. 

CTHULHU: THE DARK AGES (3RD EDITION) - A REVIEW

SO FIRMLY ASSOCIATED with the Roaring Twenties and the Great Depression--the periods in which H.P. Lovecraft set the majority of his tales of cosmic horror--we forget that Call of Cthulhu has included a wide variety of time periods and settings over the years.  As early as 1986, just five years after the game's initial release, there was Cthulhu by Gaslight, moving the scene from the 1920s to the 1890s of Victorian England.  A year later was Cthulhu Now, which brought the game to the now quaint and archaic world of the 1980s.  In the wake of the X-Files, Delta Green (1997) edged the setting up to the end of the millennium.  Just over a decade later, Cthulhu Invictus (2009) set the story in ancient Rome.

We'll come back to Invictus--and its authors Chad J. Bowser and Andi Newton--in a moment, but we would be remiss to forget Stéphane Gesbert's Cthulhu Dark Ages.  Originally published in German by Pegasus Spiele, under the title Cthulhu 1000 A.D., Chaosium's English edition came soon after in 2004.  The book was at once familiar and horrifyingly alien; it took a milieu (medieval Europe) we had seen in literally hundreds of games and a mythos (Cthulhu) almost equally recognizable and made them, somehow, more than the sum of these parts.  It wasn't even remotely similar to the fantasy settings we came to expect to see monks and clerics and warriors in, but a realm of brooding, investigative horror against inhuman and incomprehensible forces.  For me, it is in those forces that Gesbert outdid himself.  The Bestiary chapter introduced both new creatures and reskinned old ones (see what I did there) to look like they had been lurking behind medieval folklore all along.  Dwarves, goblins, Elves, vampires, even Satan all became masks of alien terrors.  Sticking out in my memory are the Old Ones, servants of Yog-Sothoth who inspired legends of the Fae, angels, even valkyries.  The effect was really something quite singular in a Call of Cthulhu supplement; as players and their Investigators worked to get to the center of the mystery, it would often end up that the players finally recognized the horror they were up against while the Investigators saw it as something entirely else.  The disappearing children?  The Investigators discover they are being taken away by gossamer-winged fairies associated with hollow hills and curious mushrooms...but the players see them as Mi-Go.

Cthulhu Dark Ages was a success, enough of one that the newly invigorated post-2015 Chaosium decided to bring it back (before even a new edition of Gaslight, this author notes, glaring at Chaosium demandingly and tapping his fingers on the table).  A sourcebook for the Call of Cthulhu 7th Edition Keeper Rulebook (it is not a stand-alone game), Cthulhu Dark Ages 3rd Edition follows in the footsteps of 2018's Masks of Nyarlathotep in that it does not merely update the previous edition to be compatible with 7e, but instead is a major revision packed with all sorts of new material that the devious cultists operating the Chaosium know you will not be able to resist.  Going forward then, I will summarize the contents of the new edition for readers altogether new to Dark Ages, but point out the changes and additions for those returning to it.

The Cthulhu Dark Ages I am reviewing is a 274-page PDF, written by Chad Bowser and Andi Newton (the team responsible for Cthulhu Invictus), with James Holloway and Mike Mason. It is based on Stéphane Gesbert's original. Visually, it is everything we have come to expect from the Call of Cthulhu 7e game line. The parchment colored pages, the layout, typefaces, etc are all identical to Masks of Nyarlathotep, The Grand Grimoire of Mythos Magic, Berlin: The Wicked City, and so on. The art is largely black and white, with a liberal amount of full-page color pieces as well.

Before jumping in I think credit has to be given to line editor Mark Mason for the surprising thoroughness of the 7e setting books. Berlin was astounding in the depth and breadth of detail it gave the "Wicked City," to the extent that someone such as myself--who has visited Berlin but is largely unfamiliar with the city--could comfortably and confidently run a Cthulhu campaign it its Weimar era. Dark Ages is no less exhaustive, not just with maps and histories, but in depth sections on Dark Ages society, literacy, language, and culture. You get a very complete picture here, from taxes and the justice system to the games children play. In my first read through I kept forgetting--until later chapters--that I was reading a Call of Cthulhu book. It felt like a fascinating and immersive history. None of us are going to walk out of Cthulhu Dark Ages with a PhD in the period, but any of us could run a campaign without constantly having to run to the Internet for research. It is really that complete.

To get this kind of depth though required this edition of Cthulhu Dark Ages to narrow its focus somewhat. While the previous editions were a more general overview of the period, focused primarily on the Continent, this new edition concentrates squarely on Anglo-Saxon England in the century running from 950 to 1050 CE. The first chapter, Anglo-Saxon England, is 34 pages detailing the region, and the eighth, Totburh, presents a fully realized Anglo-Saxon community as the Investigators' base of operations. The choice of Anglo-Saxon England seems a bit of a no-brainer given the tastes and obsessions of Lovecraft himself, and by selecting a single region to focus on, it allows this edition to do what previous ones couldn't...namely give you a living, breathing macrocosm of the period.

Chapter two, however, gives us a much broader look at the period with A - Z of the Dark Ages. The role here is to make it clear to the reader what the "Dark Ages" is, how it differs from the High Middle Ages (the period most gamers, after 40 years of conditioning, are more accustomed to). This was one of my favorite sections, and the one I feel most likely to periodically revisit. The section on "Magic" alone is worth the price of admission, right down to sample folk charms.

Chapter three is Dark Age Investigators, walking us through the process of making Call of Cthulhu characters for the setting. There are a host of occupations suited to the period, from beggars and clerics to free farmers, heretics, minstrels, and warriors, and a large table of "Life Events" that add background color. Perhaps you had the pox as a child, was raised in a monastery, or born under a gibbous moon. There are tons of colorful entries here along with the effects they have on your character. Additional tables present your character's Beliefs, Significant People, Meaningful Locations, Treasured Possessions, etc. All these may be selected or randomly determined. Naturally there are a broad selection of names offered as well. 

Then comes a long section of adapting Cthulhu skills to the setting, including new ones. To reflect the widespread illiteracy of the period, speaking a language and reading and writing it are separate things, for example. Melee combat skills are expanded, skills like Medicine more restricted. With a nod to Basic RolePlaying, "Status" replaces "Credit Rating." Investigator organizations also come in this chapter, giving the characters an in-world connection to each other. Finally we find weapons and equipment.

Chapter 4 is the Game System, with some interesting innovations here. Anyone has played Call of Cthulhu knows that at some point ponderous tomes of forbidden lore have to be consulted...but how does this work in a world where most Investigators cannot read? "The Oral Tradition" comes into play here, providing new ways for Investigators to discern critical Mythos secrets from folklore and oral accounts. Combat comes soon after, with a focus on the very familiar RPG tropes of sword, spear, and shield fighting, mounted combat, etc. There is an expanded section on disease.

Finally, as the centerpiece of Call of Cthulhu, "Sanity" is revisited. The more you think about it, the more obvious the need to adapt the concept to the period is. There is no psychoanalysis in the Dark Ages, and indeed in a world where acceptance of the supernatural is rampant, the stressors are very different. Thus we are introduced to the concepts of "Idiocy" and "Lunacy," the four humors and their imbalance, and of how "bouts of madness" might work in the setting.

Chapter 5 is Investigative Horror in the Dark Ages. This Keeper-oriented chapter gets under the hood of running a Dark Ages game, with special attention giving to using Oral Tradition in place of the more standard Cthulhu practice of heading to the library. There is also good advice on how not to run the game, to avoid it turning into a medieval fantasy RPG rather than weird horror. Chapter 6, The Cthulhu Mythos in the Dark Ages, broadens the scope well beyond Anglo-Saxon England to discuss centers of Mythos activity across the continent (and beyond). We are introduced to cults active during the period, and how the gods of the Mythos are viewed in the Dark Ages world. For characters who are literate, there is a selection of Mythos tomes around during the period, including occult tomes and poems (think "epic poem" here, the preferred narrative style in the days before novels). There is a long discussion on folk magic and witchcraft, and an extensive list of new spells. 

Then at last we come to Chapter 7, the Bestiary. This is where the third edition draws most heavily on the editions before it, with Stéphane Gesbert's terrific menagerie of Cthulhu horrors adapted to this setting, as well as an expanded selection new to this volume. Folkloric beings, such as the dragon from Beowulf or the pre-Dracula vampire, appear as well. I will not be spoiling the surprise, but the book provides its own vampire lord in the personage of a historical figure, a surprise that brought a wicked grin to my face.

As previously discussed, chapter 8 is the Totburh setting, populated by a ton of colorful NPCs. The book concludes with three scenarios, a Glossary, Timeline, Who's Who, and Bibliography.

The creative team here has delivered a terrific product. Both Bowser and Holloway bring academic credentials in the subject to Dark Ages, and the authenticity shows. Newton's storytelling skills give the characters and scenarios here depth, and Mason brings the same skills he did to the 7e rulebook. Call of Cthulhu has been Chaosium's flagship for decades now, and the work being done in its recent projects is as superb as it has ever been (the production values are the best we have seen). Cthulhu Dark Ages is a brilliant addition to the line, a book anyone who loves the game needs on their shelf...well, when it materializes in dead tree form. It has everything the previous edition has and more. 

Just buy it already.   

THE YELLOW KING: ROBIN D. LAWS AND THE NEW GAME OF HORROR AND OCCULT ADVENTURE

"I remember after finishing the first act that it occurred to me that I had better stop. I started up and flung the book into the fireplace; the volume struck the barred grate and fell open on the hearth in the firelight. If I had not caught a glimpse of the opening words in the second act I should never have finished it, but as I stooped to pick it up, my eyes became riveted to the open page, and with a cry of terror, or perhaps it was of joy so poignant that I suffered in every nerve, I snatched the thing out of the coals and crept shaking to my bedroom, where I read it and reread it, and wept and laughed and trembled with a horror which at times assails me yet. This is the thing that troubles me, for I cannot forget Carcosa where black stars hang in the heavens; where the shadows of men’s thoughts lengthen in the afternoon, when the twin suns sink into the lake of Hali; and my mind will bear forever the memory of the Pallid Mask. I pray God will curse the writer, as the writer has cursed the world with this beautiful, stupendous creation, terrible in its simplicity, irresistible in its truth—a world which now trembles before the King in Yellow..."

"The Repairer of Reputations," by Robert W. Chambers

It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a living god ...

In 1895 Robert W. Chambers published a collection of ten short stories.  More than a few of these are garden variety romances.  Some, like the prose poem "The Prophet's Paradise," are evocative and atmospheric, but not terribly remarkable.  Hidden in the pages of this collection, however,  are four interrelated tales of cosmic horror, four stories that revolve around a play which--if read--causes reality to unravel and madness to bloom.  These stories are remarkable.  "The Repairer of Reputations," "The Mask," "In the Court of the Dragon," and "The Yellow Sign" are extraordinary pieces of horror fiction, bleak, hallucinatory, terrifying.  They are the first haunting glimpse of a subgenere that would not really take form until Lovecraft, and their influence on his work is unmistakable.  His infamous Necronomicon is the clearest sign of it; a touchstone that links several tales, a meme that kills like a virus.  In his famous "The Whisperer in the Darkness," Lovecraft even goes so far as to embrace Chamber's dread play by making reference to elements of it.  In this way, the play made its way into his "Yog-Sothery," what later would be called the Cthulhu Mythos.  Its archetypical significance is far greater though.  We see shadows of this play not just in Lovecraft's blasphemous tome but as far afield as Sadako's video tape or the madness-spreading aliens in Bird Box.  The first season of True Detective was even erected around it.  Chamber's play has thus infected us, a sickly thread that runs through popular culture.  If you have played Call of Cthulhu you know it.  If you've played Arkham Horror you know it.  If you have played Trail of Cthulhu or Petersen's 5e Cthulhu Mythos or any other Mythos-related game its name is familiar to you.  The play shares its name with both the short story collection and its own enigmatic antagonist.  You know his name.  We call him The King in Yellow.

As gamers, we have so come to associate The King in Yellow with the Cthulhu Mythos so strongly that we often forget it is an entirely separate mythology.  This is what makes Robin D. Laws's new RPG, The Yellow King, so intriguing.  Powered by a modified version of publisher Pelgrane Press's GUMSHOE system (also designed by Laws), The Yellow King is about the "Hastur Mythos" ("Carcosa Mythos?" "Hali Mythos?") and the Hastur Mythos alone.  Its century-long campaign draws its narrative from the four short stories mentioned above, with nary a Deep One, a Mi-Go, or a Byakhee in sight.  Broken into four separate parts--four separate campaigns with four separate sets of player characters--The Yellow King is linked just like the original four short stories by the corruptive influence of the play and the denizens of Carcosa.

In Paris you play wealthy American students studying in fin de siècle Paris.  The publication and spread of the play, The King in Yellow, begins the hideous warping of reality, ushering in the arrival of the alien royalty of Carcosa.  Horrors that once remained hidden in the shadows, or perhaps were never even real before, begin appearing.  Phantoms.  Specters.  Vampires.  And worse.  In The Wars, players take on the role of soldiers in the Great European War...of 1947.  The arrival of the Yellow King and his terrible daughters has altered history; America is an isolated Empire, Europe has been fighting for decades.  These player characters must contend not only with the horrors of war but also of battlefields warped by the mind-bending power of Carcosa.  The Royal Court of that world is behind the conflict, and their weird war machines make the struggle even more horrifying.  In Aftermath, set in present-day North America (yet still in the alternate timeline created by the publication of The King in Yellow), the player characters are former partisans in an American empire that has just thrown off the yoke of Carcosa.  They struggle to rebuild the nation while fighting the horrors that remain behind.  And finally, in This is Normal Now, the player characters are people living in yet another timeline, a timeline like ours in which America was never an empire, WWI and WWII played out just as they did in our world, and everything seems on the surface to be...normal.  And yet these characters discover the horror beneath the surface, a reality that has been completely rewritten, a world in the thrall of the Yellow King and his Daughters.  They discover that they themselves have been rewritten, and of the terrible truth that connects them to player characters in Paris, The Wars, and Aftermath.  It falls upon them to stop the machinations of the King and his Daughters before their terrible endgame is completed.

In short, what Laws has constructed here is a literary hommage, a game that embodies the spirit (and sometimes even the letter) of Chamber's four interconnected King in Yellow tales as neatly as Greg Stafford did in Pendragon or Ken Hite did in The Dracula Dossier.  Those stories were about altered timelines, alternate histories, but above all else they were about identity horror.  The King in Yellow is all about taking off the mask and not recognizing what is there.  It is about losing your sense of self.  The madness caused by the play is not about losing your sense of reality, it is about reality losing its sense of you.  Laws zeroes in on this theme and delivers with laser-like precision.

The length of each phase is entirely left up to you.  You could move through them quickly, or prolong each as long as you like.  Paris plays a bit like Cthulhu by Gaslight, but soaked in absinthe.  There are ghosts and vampires and all sorts of things that go bump in the night.  The Wars is more like Call of Cthulhu: The Wasted Land, while Aftermath has a very cold-war, Red Scare, paranoid aura around it.  This Is Normal Now is probably the most mind-bending of the bunch.  Each introduces specialized rules for that particular setting, and character creation is interconnected; in other words, the characters you play in Paris affect the characters you play in The Wars and so on.  Likewise, the GM has a great deal of latitude in how he portrays the King in Yellow  and his court.  There is a great deal of freedom in deciding what Carcosa wants and what its true nature is.  You could run a subsequent campaign very differently from how you ran your first.

I pray God will curse the writer, as the writer has cursed the world with this beautiful, stupendous creation, terrible in its simplicity, irresistible in its truth...

The system is essentially a streamlined version of GUMSHOE.  Abilities are divided into those which are Investigative and always work (if you have Natural History and there is a Natural History clue, you will always turn it up) and General which require you to roll a six-sided die against a Difficulty Number to succeed.  General abilities have numerical ratings which represent a pool of points you can spend on these rolls to help them match or beat the Difficulty Number.  These pools refresh at the start of a new session or at appointed times during the game.

  

It differs from "vanilla" GUMSHOE in a number of ways, however.  Combat is now player-facing and never requires the GM to roll; it is also heavily abstracted.  In a nod to his own HeroQuest system, Laws now has the player declare roughly what he or she wishes to happen in combat, and success means seeing that come to pass.  This is all handled by a single combat roll.  Damage to health and shock to the mind are now handled by special cards detailing the effects of these injuries.  Also, it is now possible to "win" your combat roll and still pay a "toll," gaining a minor form of damage or shock.  

While these innovations do indeed speed play, and more deeply reflect the literary leanings of the game, there is nothing stopping you really from running The Yellow King in Trail of Cthulhu or even Call of Cthulhu.  The game is at once a system, a campaign, and a setting (or settings), and given its subject matter could easily be adapted to those systems.  While arguably the system as it stands here is a shade more like Chambers than those others, Lovecraft adopted the genre of cosmic horror Chambers bred in his fiction, and thus an authentically Lovecraftian rules system would not feel that inappropriate here.

So who is The Yellow King for?  For starters, it will feel immediately recognizable and instantly attractive to any fans of Cthulhu Mythos games, or the "weird horror" that permeates games like Lamentations of the Flame Princess: Weird Fantasy Roleplaying.  This is horror with a deeply literary bent, the kind of thing that would appeal to readers of China Miéville, Jeff VanderMeer, or Thomas Ligotti.  Obviously, fans of Chambers will also want it.  While the game can and does include all sorts of gothic and vaguely Lovercaftian horrors, it is primarily about the horror of collapsing reality and loss of identity.  If you are looking for a "monster of the week" it probably isn't you (the closest Buffy episode to it would be "Normal Again," where her reality swings back and forth between Sunnydale and an insane asylum).  I would also add that gamers who like games faithful to their source material, deeply authentic games that capture the essence of their inspirations, will find The Yellow King worth a look as well. 

      

THINGS NOT MEANT TO KNOW: HP LOVECRAFT IN THE CYPHER SYSTEM

For decades, the definitive representation of Lovecraft at the gaming table has been Chaosium's classic Call of Cthulhu. While other Mythos-releated game systems have appeared sporadically in its wake, most of them (Trail of Cthulhu, Realms of Cthulhu, d20 Call of Cthulhu, GURPS Cthulhupunk) have looked to Call of Cthulhu for guidance on recreating the genre. Because it is so radically different--in both mechanics and tone--from the Chaosium game, Monte Cook's Cypher System might appear a poor choice for authentic Lovecraftian play. Cypher System characters can take a lot more punishment, have a wider range of abilities, and follow a much more traditional progression in power and options than classic Cthulhu Investigators. But Cypher is a surprisingly flexible tool, and can easily be dialed up to handle four color superheroes or dialed down to portray normal men and women pitted against the titanic, unknowable powers of the Mythos. In this article, we hope to show you how.

GETTING THE GENRE RIGHT

The Cypher System system rulebook includes five chapters on adapting the game to portray different genres; Fantasy, Science Fiction, Modern, Horror, and Superheroes. Expanded Worlds builds on these by introducing seven "Fantastical" and "Gritty" sub-genres. None of these, however, is actually right. 

First published in 1981, Call of Cthulhu billed itself as "Fantasy Role-Playing in the Worlds of H.P. Lovecraft." Later editions would change that to "Horror Roleplaying." Given that Lovecraft's work frequently dealt with alien races or scientific experiments gone wrong, a case might even be made for "Science Fiction Roleplaying." So which exactly is it? If we look to Lovecraft himself, he would have defined his fiction as Weird.

To get a handle on what Weird fiction is, let's look at a few different voices in the genre. First, James Raggi, the author of Weird Fantasy Roleplaying, distinguishes between the Horror and Weird genres in this way;

The main thing that separates a Weird Tale from a conventional horror story is the forces completely out of the control of those who encounter them. A thing that cannot be explained, cannot be defeated, cannot be solved...

Jeff Vandermeer, author of (among many other things) the superb Wonderbook, wrote for The Atlantic;

...the weird tale, or literature of the strange...fascinates by presenting a dark mystery beyond our ken and engaging the subconscious. Just as in real life, things don’t always quite add up, the narrative isn’t quite what we expected...

Both of these place emphasis on inexplicable rather than horrific, If the intent of the Horror story is to scare, the intent of the Weird tale is to instill a sense of having confronted something incomprehensible. Fear is often a byproduct of this, but so is wonder or awe. Lovecraft himself describes this by emphasizing a sense of having left reality behind;

...I believe that weird writing...should be realistic and atmospheric--confining its departure from Nature to the one supernatural channel chosen, and remembering that scene, and phenomena are more important...than are characters or plot. The "punch" of a truly weird tale is simply some violation or transcending of fixed cosmic law--an imaginative escape from palling reality...

So what exactly does this mean for your gaming table? 

First, it suggests that the GM should create a world as realistic and mundane as possible. If everything is Weird, then nothing is. Instead, you want to create a sane and ordered world into which the Weird intrudes from outside, violating sanity and reality when it does. Use the "Modern" setting as your starting point, or better still, the "Historical" setting in Expanded Worlds (most Lovecraftian games are set in the 20s and 30s, though the Victorian Era is another popular choice). 

Second, make sure that all "supernatural" or "paranormal" elements in the setting are in the GM's hands, not the players'. Character Types should all be based on Warriors, Explorers, and Speakers, with no Adepts and no Magic flavor available. It is important for all paranormal elements to be inexplicable, incomprehensible, and beyond mortal control. If player really wants to create a psychic or medium character, have them create a Scholar or Dilettante or Professional instead...but then handle their "paranormal" abilities as GM intrusions rather than powers. The characters are not in control of these extraordinary talents, and cannot reliably call upon them. They never know when a sudden vision or cryptic communication will occur...and when these do, they are probably damaging to the character's psyche (see Mere Mortals below).

Finally, don't feel pressured to define the Weird elements as either "magic" or "science." Don't define it at all! Blur the lines. Clarke's Third Law applies here anyway; any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Are the spells in the dread Necronomicon sorcery, or some advanced mathematical formulas that bend the fabric of time and space? There is no answer to that question--it is beyond mortal ken. 

MERE MORTALS

Call of Cthulhu differs in feel and motivation from other roleplaying games. in many such games, player characters can directly confront and attempt to destroy obstacles and opponents. This strategy typically leads to disaster in Cthulhu scenarios. The majority of the other-world monstrosities are so terrible and often so invulnerable that chasing open combat almost guarantees a gruesome end for an investigator. Even the merest glimpse of some of the more macabre horrors can send one screaming into insanity...

Call of Cthulhu, 6th Edition

While they are capable of great heroism, and even on occasion do manage to drive the horrors of the Mythos back (see The Dunwich Horror), Lovecraft's protagonists are all mere mortals. These are not action heroes or supermen. To get the genre right, and to raise the stakes, the player characters need to be considerable more vulnerable than the average Cypher System character. Physical combat must be deadly, and encountering the alien, incomprehensible forces of the Mythos must be damaging to the psyche.

To simulate this, the optional "Shock" and "Madness" rules in the Horror setting chapter are a good start, and every Lovecraftian game should include them. When a character encounters something Weird or horrific, he or she needs to make an Intellect defense roll, the level of which provides both the Difficulty AND the Intellect damage suffered if the roll is failed. For example, when the intrepid cub Reporter sees a chair move across the floor of a haunted house, he makes a Difficult 4 (12 or better) roll, and if he fails, he loses 4 INT points from his pool. Failure also results in shock; for one round the character panics, freezes, or flees.

Encountering Weird entities--alien races and horrors--triggers the same response. Seeing a Deep One (a level 4 creature) requires a level 4 (12 or better) roll and inflicts 4 INT points of damage. However the gods and Great Old Ones of the Mythos are infinitely worse. Beholding Yog Sothoth or Great Cthulhu is a mind-shattering event. These beings inflict at least three times their level in INT damage. Watching Shub Niggurath manifest in this dimension, might require a Difficult 9 (27) Intellect defense roll, with failure causing the lost of 27 points from the INT pool!

While the optional "Madness" rules model the slow and steady slide into insanity common in long term Mythos games, true Lovecraftian gaming needs even more "punch" in the sanity department. In Lovcraftian games, if any character suffers an INT loss larger than their maximum value, he or she must make a second Intellect defense roll (against the last Difficulty) or go permanently insane on the spot.  For example, our cub Reporter has an Intellect of 16. Seeing Shub Niggurath manifest, he fails his Level 9 (27) defense roll and loses 27 Intellect points...far more than his maximum number (16). He now must immediately make a second Level 9 roll or go permanently insane. 

Another option you may want to consider is to take away the damage track.

If a character's Speed pool is depleted, he or she is paralyzed. If his or her Intellect pool reaches zero, he or she is stunned and helpless. And if the Might pool is emptied, the character is unconscious and at the mercy of the opposition. This will definitely make players think twice about entering combat, and much better reflects the grittiness of the genre. GMs should seriously consider using the "Lasting" and "Permanent" damage rules as well.

CYPHERS

It wouldn't be the Cypher System without cyphers, but how do these fit into a Weird game?

To start with, make "Subtle Cyphers" the primary ones in the game. These are the lucky breaks, flashes of inspiration, or extremes of effort characters call upon in their struggles against the Weird and horrific forces of the Mythos. 

Manifest cyphers can be fun as well, but these must take the form of Weird spells, chemicals, or devices and as such should be used VERY sparingly. Further, using a manifest cypher is by definition an encounter with the Weird and thus triggers a Shock test (Difficulty 3 or 4 most commonly).

WAIT...HORROR MODE?

"Horror Mode" (also discussed in the Horror setting chapter) is a good mechanic, but I think the methods discussed above are sufficient for creating the right sense of trepidation and dread. While Horror Mode does ramp up the tension, it also telegraphs ahead that something Weird is coming. Opting not to use it, and emphasizing that the Weird can intrude any time any place without warning, better suits the genre.

   

KULT: A Review of the Third Edition

An Enigmatic Game

“Play me,” it whispers. “I dare you.”

Kult: Beyond the Veil is a 304 page Rorschach blot, a game so cryptic and so vast that it can be almost anything you want it to be. Like Nietzche’s Abyss, when you stare into the book, you get the uncomfortable feeling it’s staring back into you. If you want Kult to be a game about paranormal investigators struggling against supernatural forces, it is. If you want it to be about cultists and sorcerers delving into dark secrets to turn themselves into gods, the game is happy to oblige. Or how about a game in which the players are monsters struggling against their own dark urges? Kult will be that too. It will be traditional Gothic, it will be brooding psychological horror, it will be post-modern Clive Barker hideousness. Like Mephistopheles it will give you anything you want just so long as you turn yourself over to it. “Play me,” it whispers. “I dare you.”

I suppose you could call it a game of generic horror, but there’s nothing generic about it. This is a game with one of the strongest personalities I have ever seen. Kult might better be described as an intricate, elaborate setting in which any horror imaginable might rear its ugly head. Vampires, Lovecraftian gods, Cenobites, fallen angels, animated killer dolls; the setting offers a rationale for them all. To my mind, this is a remarkable achievement, but it might be disconcerting to players who read the book and have no indication what to do with it. Hopefully, this review will help a little with that, because if you like horror, you need to play this game.

Editions

Despite a fanatical (dare I say “cult”) following, Kult never caught on all that well in the United States. A Swedish game, the English translations of Kult went through three editions and a short-lived card game, but each quickly lapsed out of print. While this is not exactly a bad thing, considering the high turn-over of games and companies in this industry, a game of Kult’s caliber deserved better. The problem may be, in part, that the game wasn’t even sure how to define itself.

The first, Target/Metropolis edition, for example, seemed to lean towards “Splatter Horror.” It was gun heavy, with detailed descriptions and drawings of weapons. The combat system was longer and more complex, and martial arts were heavily detailed. The overall feel was one of gore. The second edition was a radical reinvention. The combat and skill systems were greatly simplified, and the long weapons lists trimmed. The new focus was on “Psychological Horror,” as evidenced by the remarkable new cover. While the first edition had a naked crucified angel, the second featured stark, black and white silhouettes showing a man losing his mind. But where the second edition truly shined was the deeper attention given to the setting of the game, and a strong new focus on the occult. The new edition was more Hellblazer than Hellraiser.

The First and Second Edition Covers

The third edition, Kult: Beyond the Veil, followed the course set by the second edition. Since it is this edition which will be reviewed here, not much needs to be said at the moment. The third is, frankly, the finest of the editions, and the first to present the complete magic system (originally released in two separate sourcebooks to the second edition). This inclusion shifts the focus again, making the new Kult more a game of “Occult Horror.” This is, perhaps, where the game feels most at home. Magic is an integral part of the setting, and the hidden reality foundation of the game resonates powerfully with occult themes. This is not to say the game excludes psychotic slashers or mad scientists, but the heart of the game is of dark secrets and otherworldly terrors.

Called the Demiurge, he banished his peers from the Metropolis and imprisoned mankind in an Illusion…the world we live in now. 

Reality, As We Know It, Is A Lie

This first line from the back cover summarizes the entire setting of the game. Once, ages past, humanity was a race of gods, building for themselves a cyclopean, impossible city known as the Metropolis. Somehow, one of their number seized power and rose against all the others. Called the Demiurge, he banished his peers from the Metropolis and imprisoned mankind in an Illusion…the world we live in now. He forged Passion to make us slaves of the flesh, Time and Space to make us feel small and finite, Madness to limit our genius, and Dreams to turn us inward, away from discovering the truth. His supreme invention was Death, or at least the illusion of it. Though we are all immortal, after a span of time in the world we are yanked out and dragged off to Inferno, or Hell. There, under the auspices of the Demiurge’s lieutenant, Astaroth (Lucifer, Satan), we are hideously tortured until all memories of our lives are gouged from our minds. The slate wiped clean, we are reduced to infants and reincarnated in the womb to go through the cycle again. The point of all this is to limit us, to ensure we never had enough time to Awaken and reclaim our innate divinity.

Kult assumes that the Gnostics—a collective term for religious sects who believed the Creator God of the Bible was a jealous imposter—were right all along. 

This system worked well for millennia, until it all started to go wrong. Sometime around the 16th century, the Illusion began to break down, growing thin and threadbare. Sprawling cities—intrusions of Metropolis into our space-time—began to spread. By the end of the first World War, the Demiurge had vanished, his citadel locked and barred, the angels serving him expelled. No one knows exactly what happened, but in the aftermath, all hell has broken loose…literally. The Archons—quasi divine beings who helped the Demiurge enslave mankind—started fighting amongst each other for the throne, while Astaroth up and left Hell. All manner of beings from Outside started crossing over into the Illusion. And yet, for mankind itself, all this presented the best chance ever to escape imprisonment and reclaim our birthright.

All this background isn’t exactly new; actually, it’s two thousand years old. Kult assumes that the Gnostics—a collective term for religious sects who believed the Creator God of the Bible was a jealous imposter—were right all along. But while Kult does draw on historical heresies and occult traditions to provide a foundation for its setting, it works very hard to build upon these things with elaborate new fictions. Much of the book is devoted to describing the empty, haunted ruins of the Metropolis, the pits of Inferno, and many other hideous otherworlds. The inhabitants of each are also described. And all this is fresh from the author's fevered imaginations, not merely rehashed from old myths and legends.

The Captivity of Man (Character Creation & System)

Character creation in Kult is only a moderately complex affair, and the designers of the 3rd edition offer two variant systems to speed you through it. We’ll assume here—for simplicity’s sake—that we are talking about the creation of ordinary, human, characters. Later, I’ll discuss the rules for magicians and monsters.

The chapter starts with nine “Archetypes,” descriptive collections of personality traits and Advantage/Disadvantage guidelines. There are not character classes, and frankly you can ignore them if you already have an idea of what you want to play.

After these, there are eight Abilities—Agility, Strength, Constitution, Comeliness, Ego, Charisma, Perception, and Education—rated on a scale of 1 (terrible) to 20 (great). In standard character creation, you have 100 points to distribute amongst them. This is on a 1 for 1 basis (an Education of 15 costs 15 points) unless you want to purchase an ability rating above 18. At that point, the cost is 3 for 1 point of ability. In the simplified character creation method, you just roll 2d10 for each.

Skills are each based on a particular ability. “Basic Skills,” those anyone can reasonably expect to perform, all come with an automatic rating of 3. Some others have specific prerequisites (“Academic Skills” require a minimum Education rating of 13). In the standard system, you get 150 points to spend on each skill, again on a 1 for 1 basis. The catch here is that a skill rating is limited by the value of its controlling ability. Once the skill exceeds this, the cost jumps to 3 points for 1 point of skill. For example: Parapsychology is an Ego-based skill. If the character’s Ego is 16, it would cost 16 points to buy Parapsychology 16. Parapsychology 18 would cost 22 points (16 6 points for the two additional points above the Ego rating).

In simplified character creation, you simply chose 2 skills at 18, 2 at 15, and 8 at 10.

The game system is very simple. Actions are resolved by a single d20 roll. If you roll under your skill or ability score, you succeed. The wider the margin between your roll and the score, the better you succeed. A 1 is a success and adds 10 to your success margin, while a 20 is always a failure. Naturally, circumstances can increase or decrease your base chance of success.

Beyond Madness (Advantages, Disadvantages, & Mental Balance)

One aspect of character creation deserves to be singled out; the selection of Advantages and Disadvantages. The way Kult deals with these is unique, and goes to the heart of both the setting and the game.

The first thing one notices looking over these lists is that all the entries are mental, emotional, or social in nature. Physical (dis)advantages fall under the umbrella of high or low ability ratings, while matters of wealth and property are handled other ways in the game. The advantages and disadvantages of Kult all revolve around one’s mental state.

You may take any number of disadvantages you wish. These supply you with points you can spend on advantages or skills. Likewise, you may take as many advantages as you like, but if not balanced by disadvantage points, the costs are subtracted from your skill points. I could take, for example, both Greed ( 10) and Mathematical Talent (-10) and have no more or less skill points than the starting 150. If I took Greed only, I would start with 160 skill points. Mathematical Talent only would start me with 140.

As my balance becomes more extreme, I become more or less than human. At the very extreme ends, I shake off the illusion altogether and become a god once more.

What really matters, however, is the total number of advantage points versus disadvantage points. This value is used to determine the character’s “Mental Balance.” Following the example above, if I started the game with Greed only, my Mental Balance would be -10. If I started with Mathematical Talent, it would be 10. If I took both, my balance would be 0.

Why does this matter? Essentially, man’s captivity demands a Mental Balance near 0. As my balance becomes more extreme, I become more or less than human. At the very extreme ends ( 500 or -500), I shake off the illusion altogether and become a god once more.

As my Mental Balance increases, I start to radiate an aura which draws people to me, making them feel safe and comforted by my presence. Evil things shun me, and I become increasingly immune to fear and negative mental states. I begin to acquire miraculous powers. I am on the Light Road to my lost divinity.

As my mental balance decreases, I start to radiate an aura of fear and discomfort. Good things are repelled by me, and I become increasingly vulnerable to negative mental states. At extremely low levels, I start to go through physical changes, mutating into some sort of creature. My fears and subconscious urges might manifest as objective beings in the outside world. I start to gain monstrous powers. I am on the Dark Road to my lost divinity.

The beauty of this system is that it provides an explanation for the appearances of both monsters and saints. Vlad Tepes became so sick, so twisted, and so depraved that he mutated into a vampire. Siddhartha became so enlightened that he Awoke and shook off the coils of the illusion. Much of Kult depends on this mechanic, and we will be coming back to it again.

Beyond Humanity (Playing Monsters)

The Mental Balance system allows for player character monsters, and a separate chapter is included for those who wish to explore this option. Basically, lists of supernatural Limitations (like “Bloodthirst,” “Uncontrolled Shape Change,” and “Inhuman Appearance”) and Powers (like “Telekinesis,” “Invulnerable to Weapons,” and “Regeneration”) are provided. Each has a point cost, just like Advantages and Disadvantages. In this case, Limitations are taken to provide points for purchasing Powers. At the same time, however, the total value of Limitation points is subtracted from the character’s Mental Balance. In addition, even if the character has enough Advantages to raise the balance, no creature with Powers of this kind may have a Mental Balance of greater than -25. All Monsters are on the Dark Road, their dropping Mental Balances rendering them increasingly inhuman.

For example, a classic vampire might take the Limitations Bloodthirst (15), Tomb Bondage (10), Scared of Religious Symbols (10), and Sensitive to Sunlight (15). This gives him a total of 50 points. He uses these points to purchase Eternal Youth (10), Enhanced Senses (10), Increased Strength (15), and Invulnerable to Weapons (15). His Mental Balance is then lowered by the total number of Limitation points. Assuming the character started with a Mental Balance of -15, it would now be -65.

Mental Aspects

At times of extreme mental stress—seeing monsters, undergoing torture, being seriously wounded, etc—characters must make a roll against their Ego score, modified by circumstance. It is essentially the Kult equivalent of a Call of Cthulhu “sanity roll.” If you fail, you will go into “shock,” and suffer an appropriate reaction for 1d20 minutes. Reactions include “Screams,” “Faints,” and “Runs Away.”

There are a lot of systems out there to model states of mental distress. Call of Cthulhu and Unknown Armies are two beautiful examples. But the way in which Kult makes use of the character’s natural disadvantages is inspired...

If you have a positive Mental Balance, you can resist shock. At 15 or higher, instead of suffering a reaction, you may act freely with a -5 penalty to all rolls. At 30 or higher you can cancel even this with another successful Ego roll. As the scale goes higher and higher, you become completely immune to mental stress.

If you have a negative Mental Balance, bad things can occur. At -15, your Disadvantages get the better of you, and you must make a successful Ego check to resist them. For example, a character with Depression might complete give up, unable to act, consumed with self-loathing. A Rationalist might refuse to acknowledge what has happened, denying it exists. A Phobic character might suffer hallucinations related to his fear. And so on. The effects last until the character manages to shake them off with another Ego roll. However, the lower your Mental Balance, the less often you can make such checks, and the higher the penalty you take on each roll. At -75, well below the limit or mere insanity, shock can actually begin to provoke physical mutations, your humanity slowly slipping away.

As an added delight, any character who fails his initial Ego throw to resist shock by 10 or more will gain a new disadvantage appropriate to the situation that induced the shock. This doesn’t give you any points, it just lowers your Mental Balance.

There are a lot of systems out there to model states of mental distress. Call of Cthulhu and Unknown Armies are two beautiful examples. But the way in which Kult makes use of the character’s natural disadvantages is inspired, as is the notion that beneath even the level of clinical insanity worse things can happen.

Magicians cannot be normal people...

Magic & Occult Sciences

In the world of Kult, sorcerers may believe that their power comes from harnessing elemental forces, from calling upon spirits, demons, or gods, or even from some energy source like “mana” or “quintessence.” They are all wrong. Magic is a means by which innate human divinity is temporarily re-awakened, allowing the will to strain against the bars of its prison. In a ritual, the divine portion of the mage stirs in its sleep, flexing its muscles. As the Illusion is built from five aspects—Time/Space, Madness, Dreams, Passion, and Death—magic deals with manipulating those forces.

Magicians cannot be normal people. They must have Mental Balances either above 25 or below -25. This allows you to purchase Magical Intuition, an advantage costing 20 points. This allows you to see auras, sense magical energies, and perform effective rituals.

The magic system of Kult is mechanically quite simple, but it is one of the most elaborately described in gaming history. Furthermore, a large measure of it mirrors the practices of real-life occultists. Even a casual student of the occult would find much that was familiar in the game. For example, the spell “Protective Pentagram” is basically a complete description of the occult “Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram,” and it does in the game exactly what genuine occultists believe it does in real life (with a Kult twist). The result is something extremely atmospheric, though not, I imagine, to everyone’s taste.

Mechanics: there are five Lores of Magic, each wielding power over one of the aspects of the Illusion (a sixth Lore, the Dark Art, is possessed by beings from outside the Illusion). Lores are learned exactly like skills, and allow you to perform spells relating to that Lore. For example, the Lore of Passion allows you to study and perform spells like “Seduction,” “Arouse Instincts,” and “Master and Slave.” Each spell has a Skill Score, which is the minimum rating in the controlling Lore the magician must possess. To learn “Seduction,” the mage must have the Lore of Passion at 7 or higher. To learn “Master and Slave” it must be 14 or higher.

To cast a spell you make a roll under your spell skill score. Spells also have an Endurance cost, the amount of personal energy the magician must expend, as well as a time to cast. This can run from 1 hour to days for powerful and complex rituals. All the tools, preparations, procedures, incantations, and visualizations are painstakingly described for each and every spell.

The best way to give you the full flavor of the system is to completely quote a spell. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I’ve selected one of the more “controversial” spells from the book (in that Kult’s realistic and detailed treatment of topics like “sex magic” often gives the game a bad rep).

Master and Slave (Kult, p. 147)

An individual is made to totally submit to the will of the Conjurer for the duration of the spell. A strong sexual connection is created between the Conjurer and the victim, where the victim is filled with a desire to be dominated. The submission has masochistic undertones, the victim is willing to be dominated and degraded. He looks upon anything the Conjurer commands him to do as part of a sexual game, even such things that result in the victim hurting himself and others. The victim will seek out the Conjurer if they know each other, otherwise he will submit to the Conjurer as soon as they meet.

Skill Score: 14

Loss of Endurance: 40

Tools of Magic: the wand

Time to Cast: 1 hour

Duration: 24 hours

Ego-Throw to Resist: Yes

Preparations: A strand of the hair of the victim is placed on the altar. All of the planetary signs are drawn around the inside of the Circle, and the names of the seven Chakras are written inside of these. A candle is lit in the middle of the Circle. The Conjurer paints the Chakras with red paint on his own body, in the shape of stylized roses or lotus flowers.

Invocation and Gestures: With wand in hand the Conjurer calls the victim by name and commands him to come. He swears by Gamaliel and by each of the Chakras while he touches the flowers on his body, feeling the snake rising up along his spine. Sitting on his haunches by the burning candle he summons Mars and Venus, Saturn and Luna. Finally, he takes the hair from the altar and burns it on the candle while he commands the victim to give up his will and submit. Visualization: The Conjurer sees how the victim is taking shape in the burning flame in the middle of the Circle, nude and initially reluctant, then more and more submissive. When the Conjurer is burning the hair the victim falls on its knees and starts licking the feet and genitals of the Conjurer.

Aside from five Lores of Magic, there are also seven Occult Sciences. These are skills (again, based on real-life disciplines but all retooled for the setting) which give characters knowledge of the Illusion and how to escape it. “Kabbalah” is a detailed study of the Demiurge and his Archons. “Alchemy” examines the substances which are the building blocks of our prison. “Astrology” uncovers the blueprints and plan by which the Illusion works. “Numerology” examines the Illusion as an equation. “Symbolism” underlies magic and the path to awakening our inner divinity. “Tarot” is a meditative art that gets the user in touch with his inner being. And “Voodoo,” the youngest science, explains how to cheat death.

Summarizing as I have just done does not do justice to the incredible richness of detail used to flesh out each. The same attention Kult lavishes on its spells is continued here. The section on Tarot, for example, gives a history of the cards in the Kult universe, as well as the divinatory meanings for each and every one. This is purely for atmosphere; the mechanics governing how to use the Tarot in game are actually much more succinct. It is this remarkable attention to detail that gives the game its richness.

On a side note, entities from beyond the Illusion have access to another form of magic, the “Dark Art.” While the Dark Art cannot directly affect the prisoners inside the illusion, it does allow them to reshape the illusion itself. For example, an Azghoul (ancient servants of Man left abandoned in the empty streets of Metropolis to fend for themselves) is hunting victims in the streets of New York. The hapless couple turns into an alleyway. The Azghoul can then use the Dark Art to reshape the alley...into a dead end.

Combat

Compared to the elaborate magic system, Kult's combat mechanics are much more straightforward, reflecting the design choices of the game.

Combat is divided into rounds. All (human) characters start with 2 actions per round, but can attain (via high levels of Agility) up to 4. Supernatural entities may have even more than that.

To determine initiative, each round the participants roll a d20 and add the result to their initiative score; actions are taken in order of highest total to lowest, repeating the cycle until everyone has exhausted their actions.

To attack, roll d20 and compare the result to your skill score (which may be modified by circumstances). Rolling over that number constitutes a failure. If you roll under, keep track of the number of points you succeed by. This is your “Hit Score,” and it is vital for determining damage.

The roll of a “1” is, incidentally, a perfect hit, adding an automatic 10 to the Hit Score. A roll of “20” is a fumble and a failure, allowing the GM to determine what sort of mishap befalls the character.

Every weapon has a damage rating, or “Damage Effect Factor” (DEF). The Hit Score modifies this number up or down. A Hit Score of 0-2, for example, lowers the DEF (I merely grazed the target) while anything about a 7 raises it (up to a maximum of 5). Thus a single roll resolves both hitting and your damage total.

Damage is rated in wounds—Scratch, Light Wound, Serious Wound, Fatal Wound, etc. Different characters and beings are able to withstand different numbers of each, and the wounds are cumulative.

There are, beyond this, rules for all sorts of combat situations, including armor, parrying melee attacks, fighting in darkness, poisons, infections, and so forth. It is a simple system, but deadly, and with enough detail to generate all manner of life-threatening encounters. But comparing the page count of the Combat chapter (12 pages) with that of, say Magic (90 pages) gives you a clear indication of the game's focus.

Why You Should Be Playing This Game

taboo (also tabu) noun ( pl. -boos also -bus) a social or religious custom prohibiting or restricting a particular practice or forbidding association with a particular person, place, or thing

Some of the most intense horror experiences come from the transgression of taboo. Certainly, an ax-wielding maniac is frightening, but when Jack Torrance stalks his own wife and child through the empty halls of the Overlook Hotel, he is violating everything society expects a father to stand for. Psycho's infamous shower scene features a violent murder, but it becomes even more transgressive by the fact that it occurs in a place society defines as a citadel of privacy (not to mention the fact that Norman Bates is dressed in his mother's clothes). And vampires, bless their dead little hearts, get endless mileage out of violating of sexual taboos (rape, S&M, and incest being common features of the genre). While it is scary (and thus thrilling) to be put in danger, what distinguishes horror from adventure or fantasy fiction is this aura of violation, of horror's willingness to assault whatever our societies hold to be sacred.

Compared to literature or cinema, horror RPGs have shown an extreme reluctance to violate taboo, and thus content themselves with providing a “scare.” Most take the safer route of embracing the cliches of adventure fiction—hunt the monster, solve the mystery, defeat the cultists—sprinkled with borrowed horror elements. But there is nothing visceral in this, and while you might feel a few chills, it's unlikely you'll really squirm.

Kult is willing to go where most other games are not. Deviant sexuality, blasphemous ideas, torture; it's all there and more. Anything that might make you uncomfortable, you can probably find somewhere between the covers of this book. Indeed, deviancy and taboo violation are the very heart of the game, when one considers that societal taboos were put in place by the Demiurge to keep us safe, normal, and jailed.

This is not to say you can't get there with other games. Despite the intellectual, outre horror of Call of Cthulhu (with its non-Euclidean angles and unfathomable gulfs), entities like ghouls or deep ones do hit below the belt. The difference is, the core game itself takes a genteel approach to horror, while Kult takes you by the hand and drags you through the extremes.

If you are looking for a game inclined towards deep horror, the horror of Stephen King, Clive Barker, or Thomas Ligotti, Kult is for you.

Why You Should NOT Be Playing This Game

On the other hand, there is nothing wrong with B-movie horror, or the action horror of films like Van Helsing or Blade. And while horror is, by and large, intimate and personal, gaming is a social experience. Many are not comfortable exploring their depths in the presence of others.

Also, If you have difficulty divorcing your faith from your gaming, Kult is definitely not for you. I have known people comfortable with Call of Cthulhu because its horrors were invented, but uncomfortable with Kult's open references to Satanism, or incorporation of genuine occult practices.

Further, it goes without saying that if you don't like to be made uncomfortable, you shouldn't be bothering with this game.

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