Deconstructing Bastionland: Session 2 - Spark Tables

Spark Tables as Mood Boards

Part of a series (though this article can stand on its own!):

Introduction is here

Read about Myths here

What are Spark Tables?

The term Spark Tables originates (as far as I can tell) with Chris McDowall, for his project Electric Bastionland here, although similar concepts predate that, such as the Meaning Tables of Mythic Game Master Emulator by Tana Pigeon.

Simply, these are randomised tables with paired adjective/nouns upon which the referee can roll for inspiration, either mid-session or while doing preparation. For example, the Referee might say that after a victory against some bandits, the survivors flee to their hideout. If the party chooses to pursue, the ref decide to roll on the Bailey spark table, which is the following:

1.  Filthy / Marketplace
2. Abandoned / Forge
3. Joyous / Library
4. Sophisticated / Fountain
5. Industrious / Temple
6. Humble / Forum
7. Majestic / Tomb
8. Hallowed / Garden
9. Rustic / Hall
10. Solemn / Workshops
11. Bustling / Arena
12. Immaculate / Garrison

They get an 8 and a 6, which signifies a Hallowed Forum. Interesting! Using this as a prompt, the Referee decides this is a meeting place for Seers for debates, currently not in use. Now, it houses a bandit encampment, and any fight will take place in a semicircular stepped arena. Or perhaps the Knights will attempt to leverage veneration of the Seers to compel the bandits to disband peaceably. 

Analysis

So what makes them great?

One of the big traps with prepping things on the fly is a tendency to take the easiest course and fall into common tropes. In the above example, it would've been easy for me to just have the bandits encamped in a woods clearing - but with 2 quick rolls suddenly it becomes a memorable location. 

Now, the Referee can run low-prep, generative play in a way that continually creates interactive content. By the time you get the same result a second time, it'll be so in the past the players will have forgotten, or the new context will completely twist the meaning. Maybe the next time the Referee rolls Hallowed Forum, the party is trapped in the catacombs of the dead. Is this where the worlds of above and below come to meet? A once bustling marketplace, now eerily quiet and haunted by those who died here in some long-forgotten travesty? That's the needle threaded by Spark Tables: they're open-ended, but with sufficient direction as to give clear inspiration.

How are they great, specifically in Mythic Bastionland?

So, firstly and most obviously, MB has a great selection of Spark Tables covering a wide set of subjects, including many you wouldn't think of. Illness and Strategy are great examples of categories most people wouldn't think of prepping, and when considered by a Referee would likely just be defaulted to the most basic version.

But there are two extra things I want to highlight.  

Firstly, l like how, with the exception of Holdings, the tables don't directly correlate with specific gameplay elements. Monuments, Curses, Hazards, and Ruins are all examples of Landmarks in a realm, but none of them have corresponding tables. Vagabonds and Vassals are common people you might encounter, but similarly lack straight matches. When I first encountered this feature (while attempting to build a realm) I was initially frustrated, and thought it the most obvious oversight. It clicked, however, when I was forced to interact with the tables thoughtfully and found myself being sparked into concepts that wouldn't have come at all.

My Monument isn't just one of 144 different possibilities, with my own squeeze of lemon juice atop. I looked over the headings and thought "Ooh Fauna! That's something I hadn't considered!". My 2d12 result was 3/11 - Graceful Fowl. So now this Monument, a place where Knights can rest to regain their Spirit, is a calm, small, lake, where many species of fowl nest among the islets. A peaceful place to watch the graceful flight of birds. By keeping the tables separated from gameplay elements, they remain open and inspirational rather than prescriptive.

Secondly, the tables are much more thematic than one might initially think. These aren't factual lists of all possibilities, but the use of language and the literal content evoke a world and a mood.

A simple example is the Food table. It has stew, mushrooms, cheese - all sorts of earthy European medieval foodstuffs. You move this to a different time and/or place, those details should be entirely different!

Okay, that was an easy example. How about we look at Ailments? The Symptoms list is full of poetic, melodramatic entries, all of which use language that wouldn't feel out of place a millennia ago. Lethargy, Blindness, Melancholy, Fixation - all of these are nasty conditions, of course, but there's a romantic tragedy to them. If, instead, the table had more clinical, modern terms, with more clearly defined symptoms, suddenly there's a different mood. Someone afflicted with Unexplained Insomnia feels like the victim of a curse. Someone with Undiagnosed Night Terrors needs to see a sleep therapist. Add in some physically nasty symptoms, such as bleeding, vomiting, seizing, and you have a table describing the effects of a horrifying disease rather than an ephemeral "Ailment".

The point here is that both the language and the literal contents of these tables do a lot of work in setting up the mood, themes and environment in your campaign. Which leads to my main point.

Don't use the Spark Tables in Mythic Bastionland

Okay that's unnecessarily negative. But my point, rather, is that if you overly rely on the tables presented in MB you will find your campaign adopting its aesthetic unconsciously. There's definitely a good number that can be used generically, but they should be purposefully added onto your list of campaign Spark Tables rather than taken as default.

Instead, I recommend coming up with your own. You shouldn't need too many to start with, maybe 3-4, but this is an ideal point to think about what concepts and objects are important to the feel of your setting, and what tables can give them additional life.

This is why the title of this post is "Spark Tables as Mood Boards". The creation process doesn't just provide a useful table of things to pull upon mid game, but also helps you visualise the world in a tangible sense. It adds tactile depth to your setting, not through lore or characters (i.e. pure information), but through the 5 senses (or more, if your setting is really funky).

As mentioned before, they should be designed for indirect usage - inspirational rather than prescriptive.

My tables for The Zone

As mentioned before, The Zone is a Roadside Picnic/Annihilation/Pacific Drive inspired setting, exploring an area subject to anomalous phenomena, mutations etc. I want building blocks so that I can twist any mundane object to show anomalous behaviour, as well as general environmental effects that Aren't Quite Right.

So here's 3 tables. The first is Visual Emission - I use this as inspiration when I want to give something a visual signifier of being dangerous/anomalous. The second is Weather. I want these to be nonspecific enough that I can say they're just set dressing, but can also be intensified when the weather is causing an issue. Finally, I want my Mundane Uncanny table - inspiration for things that aren't obviously anomalous, but have a slightly off vibe.

Tables for Jaronil

For Jaronil (a post-collapse space-fantasy setting) I want to do two main things - give the sense of broken relics of the Before Times, but also give the sense of an alien medieval society.

 

The first table generates abandoned pre-collapse structures (mostly). I want to give a strong idea of a shape, and also a distinct manner in which it has deteriorated with time. As "Mysterious semi-empty structure" is a cornerstone of the setting, we need variety to avoid repetitiveness. I also threw in some more mystic/strange entries to avoid it feeling like only sci-fi. 

 

The second table is foods, which I want to feel low-tech & real, but open-ended enough to contain exotic alien foodstuffs. Rolling a 10/3 I get smoked roots, so I'll come up with some potato analogue, with an alien spin that when exposed to smoke its crimson flesh opens up and becomes succulent.

 

The third table is Signature Piece (of clothing). I want to have a broad range of ornamentations, taking examples from history, so that they are realistic but very different to what we would see today. Rather than concrete details like colour or materials, I wanted the traits to give information about the character/culture. Someone wearing a simple necklace might be humble, poor, or perhaps just believe in restraint in appearance. A culture that wears embroidered cummerbunds, perhaps important familial or personal information is embroidered on their waist sashes.

 

Conclusion

Firstly, here are two other articles I read about Spark Tables.

This one talks about how to populate your spark tables . I'll admit I slightly rattled off the above tables, and on a second go around I'd use their method - it's better to over-generate and cut, then hit 12 and say "done!".

This article talks about the ways of using Spark Tables . It uses tables of a slightly different structure, but I like the idea of using them as truly inspirational prompts for future planning rather than just as question answerers.

I put this article first in my sub-series of "Creating your Realm" posts for good reasons. Firstly, I think Spark Tables will be a consistently useful fallback throughout the setting design process. But secondly and perhaps more importantly, I'm returning to this Mood Board idea. I didn't know what my spark tables for the above settings would be when I started this article, but by forcing myself to widen the setting, by populating it with more minor objects, both have really gained additional depth in my mind.

Next up, we'll look at actually drawing the realm! 

Deconstructing Bastionland: Session 1 - Myths

Myths as Fronts

Part of a series. Part 0 here.

Let's start with one of the best systems from Mythic Bastionland: Myths

A quick description of Myths

Within MB there are 72 Myths. While setting up a campaign, the referee is supposed to roll randomly to select 6 of them to be the initial threats. Whenever the party ends a phase (a 3rd of a day) in the wilderness, there is a 3/6 chance of no Myth being triggered, a 2/6 chance of the nearest Myth being triggered, and a 1/6 chance of a random Myth being triggered.

Each myth has 6 omens, and whenever a Myth is triggered its next Omen occurs, with the final Omen being its climax. For example, let's take The Tower. Simplified, its 6 omens are as follows:

1. The party encounters a knight that is escorting labourers for building the Tower.
2. Giant birds, chaperoned by armed horsemen, haul huge blocks of stone to the Tower.
3. A mysterious, freestanding staircase is discovered. While ascending the stairs, one receives strange visions. Finally, at its top, a clear view of the Tower, completed.
4. The weather turns to black but rainless stormclouds. Bolts of lightning intermittently strike the ground, starting fires across the realm. 
5. A bolt of lightning strikes the tower, causing it to crumble and fall.
6. With a final thunderclap, all towers across the realm similarly collapse. Afterwards, the sky clears.

Analysis

From a design viewpoint, Myths are merging of the idea of "Fronts" from PbtA systems and the random encounters that are popular in many OSR style games (To be clear, this is how I see them. I have no evidence that it is how Chris McDowall came up with them). 

Random Encounters

From random encounter tables, we get, well, randomness. There's much more writing on what makes random encounters good other blogs. A common misconception, however, is that they are basically filler - "Oh, here comes 11 goblins! Let's have a combat.". Handled well though, they provide much more than that.

1. Worldbuilding: Who lives here? What do they want? Random encounters make the world feel real, more full and complex. This isn't just verisimilitudinous fluff, but leads to:
2. Information: The answers to the above questions describe upcoming threats, but perhaps give clues to their vulnerabilities and goals. You didn't just encounter 11 goblins, but the vanguard of a Goblin army. They were panning for gold, or hiding from a troll. Finally, this then opens up:
3. Opportunities: The Players can take inspiration (sometimes intended by the referee, but equally as often not) to exploit new opportunities. Was the troll threatening your keep? Now you know the Goblins also dislike it - perhaps they're a potential ally. Why were they panning for gold? Maybe they know something about the local area that you don't - steal their plans and make them your own.

All of this leads to Emergent Narrative - the players taking decisions and agency into their own hands, in a way unpredictable to the Referee. This creates organic story development that the players are invested in.

Fronts

Now let's mix in Fronts. This is an idea in Dungeon World and related systems, in which the GM designs a collection of linked threats that over time advance through existing stages. This formatting of adversaries, or more specifically their plans, has two major benefits.

1. Playerless Design: It is a common idea that the villains should have plans irrespective of the protagonists - and if the players don't step in, these will proceed unchecked. Knowing how events will unfold without the players' interventions gives structure without railroading the players - it's their choice how to react.
2. Clear Progression: It's easy for threats to the players (and the world in general) to meander. Sure there's a nasty group of brigands, but they're not really posing any pressing threat. They're vaguely robbing and terrorising. But with Fronts, there's a clear, escalating danger. The front might begin with a few harassed and robbed farmers in the borderlands, but as the brigands go unchecked and grow bolder, they'll initiate deeper and more daring raids, until finally it's the players' loved ones being held for ransom.

Mixing them together

When these two systems are combined, you get a play procedure that is dynamic and player-focused, with their actions being the primary influence of what happen and when - it's their movement and their choices that trigger the Myths. But with the Omens clearly developing into a looming crisis, the narrative is constantly progressing, the tension ever escalating.

Using Myths as a campaign framework

So, using Myths as an outline, we can build a campaign. Unlike McDowall, however, we don't need to write 72 of the blasted things. We only need 6 (at least, for now). These are your initial developing crises, and between them will provide a good amount of content for the players to interact with before you need to do more prep work.

Myths themselves aren't a huge amount of prep work. Each of them takes up a page in the rulebook, and almost half of that is pretty art. Each Omen is 2-3 sentences, and there are around 3 NPCs tied into those Omens. After all, too many restrictions and deliberate interactions inhibit player interactivity and on-the-fly improvisation. In the Tower example, nothing is said about how to prevent either the Tower's construction, nor its collapse. We'll talk more about Seers in a future post, which might be how players discover answers to those questions, but better yet, the players might devise solutions of their own.

So let's take a look at 2 approaches to using Myths as a Campaign Framework.

Approach 1: Palette Swapping

In MB, the myths aren't linked in any direct manner. In this approach, we do the same - each Myth is an isolated bit of weirdness. As long as you have 7 Myths (6 active, one spare) at any given time, you're peachy.

Lets give a concrete implementation within my Ragnarok setting. As a reminder, this is basically "What if Mythic Bastionland was more Norse Mythology than Arthurian Legend/British Folklore", so it cleaves pretty close to just being an MB reskin.

So my 7 Myths will be:

1. Yggdrasil drops a branch from which sprouts wild plants
2. A troll seeks to blot out the sun
3. A strange order is tampering with the Well of Song
4. Two God's escalating competition threatens to cause eternal winter
5. A Shapeshifter plots the ultimate farce
6. Dwarves are crafting a new God of their own
7. A Draugr king seeks to reclaim his throne

And to give an idea of the Omens of Myth 3:

1. An abandoned longhouse, a cold firepit full of burnt instruments
2. Ravens singing nursery rhymes are perched upon a cracked barrel of water, deliberatley hidden. When drunk from, causes the drinker to burst into song. Enough for 2d6 drinks.
3. 5 Silent Skalds break the fingers and cut out the tongues of a captive troupe of musicians, one by one. Each joins the Silent Skalds after the process.
4. A wild-eyed merchant offers payment for songbirds, or their blood. If pressed, claims this can be made into the Wine of Musical Inspiration (not true).
5. The Silent Skalds ride triumphant, having poisoned the Well of Song. No new song may be sung.
6. A pair of dwarves, weeping, riddle verse at one another, trying to keep Song alive. They will do so until they die of exhaustion, and then Song will end.

Approach 2: When is a Myth not a Myth? When it is Mythtaken

I'm sure you didn't need me to tell you you could do Mythic Bastionland but Norse/Greek/whatever folkloric tradition.

But what if we used the Myth structure to represent other kinds of threats, and connected them to form cohesive narratives?

Lets imagine a more traditional campaign setup, with a Big Bad Evil Guy trying to take over the world. They have a suite of Lieutenants enacting their evil will. We can also throw in a few curveball ticking clocks, perpendicular to the evil schemes.

Let's call these Plots, rather than Myths, to differentiate.

The players still can focus on what they find most pressing, while other Plots lie in the background. But rather than just have a 7th Plot lying in wait to replace whatever Plot is resolved first, future plots should be responsive, and reflect the wills and plans of the greater powers in the setting.

In resolving one Plot, did the party slay the lieutenant behind it? Then perhaps the next Plot can be about the BBEG anointing their successor. By contrast, perhaps the party failed to prevent a ritual that transformed the inhabitants of a holding into vile monsters. Now there is a new Plot - these monsters have a pretty short expiry date, and are engaging in a mass migration towards the nearest water source to expel parasitic worms.

Plots don't need to be as mysterious and logic-defying as Myths. A plot can be as simple as an invading force, or Assassins eliminating political opponents. 

The Hard Part

Myths, and their Omens, can occur anywhere. When they are Mythic events, caused by supernatural forces, these things can be handwaved away or even leant into - the rulebook advice section specifically gives an example of a Forest appearing in the middle of a frozen wasteland! But if you're trying to design more concrete Plots, then you need to adhere a bit more to realism, while maintaining this "Anything, Anywhere, at Anytime" requirement for the Plot beats.

A Concrete Implementation

Let's use my science-fantasy alien planet setting, Jaronil, for this example. This is a post-apocalyptic setting, with misunderstood futuristic technology, magic and alien creatures.

In this campaign, the idea is that a Giant slumbers beneath the land beneath the land. In dreams, they send visions to unwitting supporters, to destabilise the land so that their return is unopposed and even welcomed. Their Lieutenants are The Warlord, The Tinker, The Sorcerer and the Vizier.

To the Warlord he sends dreams of a great empire covering the world. Thus, the Warlord is attempting to unite/conquer the nomads of the Rust Wastes, using the strength of arms and its terrible beasts.

To the Tinker he sends dreams of arcane knowledge and forgotten secrets. The Tinker, in turn, excavates those things best left in the past, not heeding the dangers they pose.

To the Sorcerer he sends dreams of wild magic and the names of soul-coveting demons. They will unleash hellspawn and form wicked cults to pay the blood price of forbidden pacts.

To the Vizier he sends dreams of wealth and power. They will conspire and connive, their plots forming power vacuums they will then inevitably fill, until they seize power in a bloody coup.

Classic stuff. Now let's set that up into the Plot Framework. We'll do 1 Plot per Lieutenant, plus 2 wildcard Plots, to keep things dynamic and not all about the endgame.

It's worth pointing out here that in MB not all Myths are "Bad". Some cause more horizontal world changes, unearth strange artefacts, or other things. So try and sneak opportunites into your Plots!

(Here's a potentially obvious note for writing Plots in either framework - crib Mythic Bastionland homework! Roll a random Myth, and repurpose it to fit!)

1. The Warlord has driven Tharagavverug, the terrible Dragon-crocodile, from the wastes into the realm. 
2. The Tinker has awakened half-dead warriors, remnants of the Atom Wars. They mindlessly pursue victory against all they see as "enemies".
3. The Sorcerer's rituals have ripped open a tear in the past, through which drift the memories of those long-dead, and remembered by only a few.
4. Under a pseudonym, the Vizier supplies money and weapons to brigands across the realm, fomenting unrest.
5. Entering a Stone circle, the party find themselves unable to leave til offerings are left before each of 3 Menhir marked with strange glyphs
6. Rumours sweep the realm - the Baan of estegu-Morsic, the weapon of the last of the True Knights, has been found. As many have died by its blade as have died in their attempts to possess it.

Most of those fit the more melodramatic sensibilities of Mythic Bastionland, so lets zoom in on number 4, which is much more grounded, and see its 6 steps.

1. The party passes a gibbet, its chain snapped, lying open on the ground.
2. A family of 7, grandma riding in a cart pulled by an equally elderly draught-monitor, is lost in the wilds. They ask to be escorted to the nearest holding, as Brigands abound.
3. 5 traders struggle to free a cart trapped in a deep furrow in the road. They anxiously refuse help, as their cart is full of contraband weapons supplied from mysterious benefactors.
4. Ambush! The party is set upon a dozen vagabonds, wielding newly-forged metal.
5. A group of deserting city guards are leaving the realm, claiming things are too dangerous, and they aren't getting proper support from the capital. Will violently refuse attempts to coerce them back to their duty.
6. Torqual, the bandit king, leads a warband of motley recruits, and his 'honour guard', towards the nearest holding. The party sees them from afar, and they travel at 1 hex per daytime phase. He is not unreasonable, but dreams of becoming a true king.
   
   

Look at that! Just the same as any other Myth, but entirely grounded.

And as these Plots are completed, it is up to the Referee to design new ones that follow on naturally. Recurring characters are always fun, and if the Lieutenants' Plots are repeatedly foiled, they may well seek to become involved directly, leading to dramatic confrontations.

How does this all end? Well, we'll talk more about endings in a future post. But for generating future Plots, one should take particular notice of the Primacy of Action concept from the rulebook - "Past actions taken by the players supercede content generated by prompts or rules. Their deeds are reality.". The further into the campaign you get, the more goings on should directly stem from the earlier actions of the party.

 

 

Deconstructing Bastionland: Session 0

What is Bastionland, what is this series, and why am I doing it?

A Quick Introduction

Hi there! I'm James, a long-time TTRPG player and, for much of that time, a designer of my own systems. I love Roleplaying games, and I am particularly interested in what makes them tick, and how these processes affect the stories created while playing.

What is Mythic Bastionland?

If you're reading this, there's a good chance you already know what Mythic Bastionland is. But, if you haven't, Mythic Bastionland is a TTRPG written by Chris McDowall. The game is set in a pseudo-Arthurian land, partially created by the Referee (GM) and follows the adventures of a group of knights as they explore and defend the realm from Myths, and eventually quest to find the fabled City. It is the third iteration of the Into the Odd system (following Into the Odd itself, and its sequel Electric Bastionland). If you want more information:

• Here is the link to Chris' blog

• Here is a link to the review that got me into the game

It's an excellent system, and what I really want to highlight is its ease of use. The Referee is lead through creating a Realm step by step, and then populates it with threats all premade in the book. When the players create characters, they randomly are given knights with exciting titles with even more exciting abilities. Each session isn't carefully plotted in advance by the Referee, but just happens, as random encounters cause those pre-populated threats to gradually make their presence known, escalating from looming omens to lingering threats and finally, if unchecked, devastating consequences.

Okay, that's a definition, but why are you hung up on it?

What really gets me about Mythic Bastionland is that, beneath its gorgeous art and evocative lore, is an excellently designed system for procedural play. The landscape traversed by the players feels textured, full of interesting locations. The random events make play feel organic and decision-lead but also continually push the narrative forward. The players always have sufficient information, or failing that, a method for gaining further information, so play never stalls. In a world where pre-session prepping is a leading cause of GM burnout, a game that plays itself is wonderous.

Beyond that, the core resolution mechanics are simple, allowing gameplay to flow, but the combat rules have enough depth to enable, and indeed force, dynamic play. Furthermore, the fact that each character has unique abilities mean that each player interacts with the world in their own way, without a need for cumbersome skill or talent lists.

So sure, it's an excellent game.

But what is this series, and why are you doing it?

I've played a campaign of MB, and I'd play more. But there are many other stories I want to tell:

• Desperate Norse heroes struggling to keep things together in the face of Ragnarok (I've been playing the Banner Saga recently)

• Alien Knights holding to their oaths centuries after the Atom Wars destroyed civilisation on the far-flung planet of Jaronil (Psychedelic space-fantasy with the aesthetics of Moebius)

• Intrepid scavengers and scientists exploring an anomalous zone (Stalker, Metro 2033, Pacific Drive)

• Gangs trying to stay alive in a lawless city, ruled by corrupt cops and threatened by horrors from the sewers (The Warriors crossed with urban myths and possibly a dash of cyberpunk)

• Inhabitants of the Last City trying to stave off entropy as the fabric of reality frays and tears (Viriconium, Dying Earth, Book of the New Sun)

Perhaps the above list shows I am a derivative hack, and perhaps I could be accused of seeing everything as a nail while holding a hammer, but I feel that any of these could fit into the framework of Mythic Bastionland - a race against the clock, dealing with various growing threats across a hex-tile map.

The rulebook of Mythic Bastionland has a lot of content. 144 pages are just dedicated to who you might be, or the threats you'll encounter, and this is one of its great features - the game gives you all of this and says "Go, run a campaign!". But because of this, it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that to run a similar campaign you'd need to produce an equal amount of your own content, which is a daunting task.

Hence this series. By breaking down Mythic Bastionland to its core components and sifting out all the elements only relevant to the MB setting, we should land with a collection of key subsystems. Each can be used individually as add-ons to any system/campaign of your choosing, to add a little personal flair.

But the real purpose of this series is to reconstruct them into a generic system foundation. From this, anyone will be able build settings all of their own that have all the juicy procedural goodness of Mythic Bastionland.

A quick note on dissecting the frog

There is a classic analogy about comedy "Explaining a joke is like dissecting a frog. You understand it better, but the frog dies in the process". This, to an extent is true about the forthcoming posts - they will peel away some of the beauty and mystique of Mythic Bastionland. Bear that in mind before continuing.