Wallstormers #10.03 The Breakthrough

 There comes a time, when the heroes cross the threshold, from struggling to survive, to formidable opponents. This happened at last.

The Threshold

While I had hinted at it, and we explored it a little. the characters who found this out, were lost to badly timed spells, and whisked away before being able to report back what they discovered. Today an explored concept took the next phase.

Weeks ago, maybe months, some explorers dropped a silver coin in a pond that had some blood at the bottom of it. the blood retreated. 

It could have been a copper coin, or a nail, but it was silver. So it retreated.

I've had this happen a few times.. copper coin or tin bit, dropped into blood, no effect. heroes shrug their shoulders and nothing happens.. that was 2017. 

This time, 2026, a silver coin, and it set of a chain reaction of events.

Next, players attempted a silver fork, stab it in the ground, and the blood stops creeping at them. Hmm they said.. weeks pass.

Silver dipped arrow, shot into a blood gate. the create is halted, confused.. the blood hasn't penetrated the wood, but its close enough to cause it pause.

Today, 20+ silver dipped arrows.

Why was it that the zombies were holding back.. why were they not nearby?

The team started bringing in some expensive furniture from the town houses, there were no zombies around.. word had it they're all gone to the Ziggurat gate and started to congregate, so nothing was near the North gate. Perfect timing.

House No.1 was cleared, and almost house number 2, but some strange robed fellow out on the far end of the main road stood and watched.

Kane decided to get closer, taunt the thing, see what was up.

Hammond wasn't in for it, he returned to town. Nope.. not gonna risk it.

Kane got the others to provide backup.. they joked.. sure, we'll just back up a bit more.. they stood 100m on the road behind him.

He approached. 200m from the robed man, with a long staff. a knarled staff, Oh.. Oh no.. too late Kane started running as the man raised his staff and struck the base at the ground, small tendrils under the sandy road snaked their way, impossible fast, rippling the soil. Kane ran faster as they snaked towards him, at the last moment he dodged, dived, rolled and then returned to his feet, not stopping for a second. 

His friends were all already panting, running, escaping. This thing was obviously dangerous.

Someone pointed out, they hadn't finished with the house.. they calmed down, watching the robed fellow from now 1000 of metres away. keeping watch, collected Hammond, they went back to the house.. but as they returned, they saw their path blocked by the robed fellow..

Kane, keeping watch the entire time, exclaimed how he'd not taken his eye off the creature, and there. look it still stood there, but was that.. who was this new one? were there two? more? 

confused, they dropped the tallboy right there in the street and ran.

Jorren called out to the group. He had a key to a secret entrance, "follow me" he said.

A few moments later, they were scrambling at the wall, 

Hammond panicked, not realising or looking for an escape route, he ran down an alley to the gate, but the robed being was there, too late, the sand tendril was send on its way, it caught Hammond by the leg, tore at his flesh, scarred and marked he ran back to his friends.. but they were gone. Hammond threw himself at the wall, "Hey, HEY I'm here, let me in", the crack appeared and a door opened, they pulled him in, and shut the door.

Fingers pressed to his lips, they waited.. then slowly began crawling back along a passage.

Emerging into the daylight. They called it a day. BUT, news would get out about the townhouses and the high quality furniture.. they would have days if they were lucky.

They decided to go for the Ziggurat gate, they hadn't heard the news.

The next morning, ready at the gates, the guards warned them to be ready. They opened the gates.

More than 300 metres away the edge of a horde of zombies stood. cold, slow, moving, but unaware in the light fog. The bulk of the zombies were 500 metres back further, so there was a chance.

Greed possibly took over their sense of preservation, so they made their way to a townhouse. Yet at some point the conversation got to prices of healing, and Hammond required more than he had, to buy a potion of cure-all. So they changed track, and went for a tavern.

Recently, Taverns were paying more and more for acquired bottles, as there often seemed to be a mix between magical potions and fancy alcohols. So a Tavern would likely end up with a few more coins. AND were easier to carry.

They made their way to the taverns back gate, slipped their way inside. The backdoor was blocked by a moat of blood, but the back 2 rooms were accessible from their windows.. IF they could make little to no noise.

The team set about, guarding and watching as the knife experts started removing panes from rotting frames.

As the panes were extracted, it was obvious zombies inside the building were being affected by this powerful pull, they were clawing at the door to get out.. obviously facing the wrong way, Hammond and Bob called over Jorren and got him to shoot them. 

Jorren got out his silver arrows.. This is where things get set in motion..

The arrow not only penetrated the back of the skull, but the blood in the head of the zombie tried to violently retreat, tearing the head off the shoulder and splattering all over the walls.

Jorren was already mid shot of the 2nd and third arrow before he noticed what had happed.

This was not normal.

He walked over to the yard and aimed at the pool of blood.

He shot.

It landed in soil, blood pushed back in a circle from the arrow tip.

Silver arrow tip.

He shot again, deeper, and again.. the blood was pushing back, and gravity was spilling it over, and it happened so fast, it began to steam!

Bob yelped as an arm came out of the window, he raised his short sword, chopping off the arm, but recently he'd had the sword coated in silver.

The arm didn't just come off.. the flesh fled the bones, and turned to soup. he bones fell on the ground, nothing holding them together, the zombies shoulder bones protruded from the flesh, and nothing else remained.

Jorren stepped up pegged 6 arrows into the room and took out the lot. He stood for a few seconds and watched as one, pinned to the wall, melted and dribbled down the wall. 

Hammond had just started to climb into the room, 

It was then that Johnathan yelled back to the group "Hey you GUUUYS!"

Johnathan had climbed the wall to keep watch, and noticed zombies closing in on the back gate.

"GUUYS!!!"

Kane and Bob ran back to the Gate, and opened it, to find more than a handful of Zombies had made their way to the gate. Bob started to push back against one gate, block the way, while Kane hacked into the zombies.. beheading them one at a time. In a quick effort and speedy thought, Bob got out his staff, Hammond a spear, and they pushed zombies back, while Kane slashed a path down the street. Jorren jabbed 5 arrows in the ground, creating a barrier.

But the zombies kept pushing.

Jorren looked on in horror and disgust, but also intrigue and understanding.

The Zombies.. being pushed from behind pushed against the barrier, their feet too close, melted. their bodies crumpled into the arrows and melted some more. Bones fell where bodies landed. and a thick ooze flowed onto the road.. absent of blood. that flowed back into the next zombie behind it.

The gang created a machine. Kane hacking the way at the front, Bob and Hammond pushing them out at the sides, creating barriers, while Jorren created blockades with arrows, He called to the group "Use Silver!"

Johnathan dug his hand into his pocket, and pulled out some silvers.. in another life, this was a weeks pay, This could afford rend, food, and a few drinks on Friday, and here he was.. as he loaded one into the sling.. throwing his money away.

He slung it, expecting it to need as much force as possible, the coin didn't edge into the head of his target as expected, it imploded. as did the zombie behind, and the few behind that..

While shocked, they didn't have time to take in what they just saw.

They burst out into the main street, their escape route at last.. but to the right, hundreds of zombies, and in the lead a zombie centaur, with helm and spear!

Jorren shot at it with arrows, Johnathan let loose with a handful of coin, slung at velocity, the blood curdling screams of the zombies or was it merely the escaping of gasses as they melted.

Johnathan, taking a second look at the spear, decide it was worth it and ran for the spear. grabbed it and ran.

The whole gang ran, the zombies were closing in. they were low on silver bullets, as they neared the gate Johnathan could feel the spear rising in power.. something was going to happen, so he willed it to happen.

The blood drained from his body, the flesh from his skin, the muscle from his bones, the marrow from within, he was barely a skeleton, covered in skin, but a 30ft tall skeleton, his clothes burst from his body, tearing at his flesh, he passed out, and returned to normal.

The gates shut, the party saved. They looked at each other as the naked unconscious Johnathan shrank back to his original size, but not his original health.

They rushed him to hospital, some of them slept there and then, others walked wearily home to sleep.  

 

Wallstormers #10.04.01 AI written

 North gate creaked open

The wind howled through the cracked battlements of the North Gate—once called Temple Gate in the old tongue—as five young Wall Stormers slipped into the eternal twilight beyond the walls. For one hundred and thirty-seven years, the undead had clotted the lands like a festering wound that would not heal. Inside the city, generations had starved, clawed back from the brink, and forged a desperate new society of scavengers and dreamers. But the lure of the outside world never died. Tales whispered in the taverns spoke of bold lads and even women returning heavy with unimaginable wealth: rusted gold, ancient relics, treasures from a dead civilization. Heroes, they called them.

Gordon—Jordon to those who knew the old pronunciations—led them, his axe gleaming dully in the gray light. Beside him strode Gason (Json), Jreg (Greg), Jayson (Garson), and Geoffrey (Jeffery). They were young, reckless, eyes bright with visions of glory and overflowing pouches of Pg—the pitted coin of the reclaimed world. "We'll return as kings," Gordon had boasted at the gate, ignoring the hollow-eyed guards who muttered warnings about the shadows that lingered too close to the walls.

They had not gone far before the Customs House rose before them, a squat, malevolent tower built into the wall itself. Its stones seemed to drink what little light remained, windows like empty eye sockets staring down at the intruders. "Stay clear," the elders had warned time and again. "That place devours the living. Built wrong. Cursed from the first brick." But youth and greed are deaf. The lads forced the iron-bound door, boots echoing in the dust-choked halls.

The tower fought back.

What happened inside remains a blur of screams and splintering bone. Gordon and Jayson, the strongest warriors among them, vanished into its depths first. A low groan rose from the foundations, like the earth itself awakening. Shadows detached from the walls—rotted hands clawing, jaws unhinging with wet hunger. The survivors fled, hearts hammering, leaving their brothers to whatever fate the Customs House claimed. No bodies were found. Only silence, and the faint, wet sounds of feeding that echoed long after they sealed the door behind them.

Shaken but unbowed, the remaining three pressed on, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and that damned tower. They came upon an old smithy, its forge cold and black, tools scattered as if the smith had simply walked away mid-strike one hundred and thirty-seven years ago. Gason rifled through a warped workbench and uncovered a strange, leather-bound book. Its pages crackled with forbidden knowledge: meticulous notes on the forging of a "sledge hammer," a weapon of terrible weight that could wield a mighty stone head capable of shattering undead skulls like overripe fruit. His fingers trembled as he read—power, real power, lay in those diagrams.

Jreg, meanwhile, discovered yellowed parchments nailed to a beam. They spoke at length of a shadowy deal between the old guilds to complete the Customs House tower. Vast wealth had poured into its construction—gold, labor, secrets. Yet it had been ruined before completion, abandoned in haste. "Something stirred beneath," one note read in a frantic hand. "The stones... they listen."

Emboldened by these finds, they moved to the nearby Guild Hall, its grand doors hanging crooked on rusted hinges. This place felt right for Gason and Jreg—halls of knowledge and craft, ripe for plunder. They scoured the echoing chambers, boots disturbing layers of dust that smelled of rot and forgotten oaths. But the dead do not rest easy.

Jeffery wandered too far into a side gallery. A sickening scrape of bone on stone alerted them. Two zombies—twisted remnants of guild scribes, their quills still clutched in skeletal fingers—pinned him against a crumbling pillar. Their eyes, if they could be called eyes, burned with an ancient, patient malice. Jeffery's screams tore through the hall as decayed hands tore at his leathers. Jreg and Gason charged in, blades flashing. They saved him, barely—hacking the creatures apart in a spray of black ichor that burned where it touched skin. Jeffery gasped, bleeding, eyes wide with the knowledge that the walls had claimed another piece of them.

Yet the Guild Hall yielded treasures amid the horror. Jreg pried open a sealed cabinet and found a cache of rare fountain pens and shimmering ink vials, untouched by time, worth a small fortune—50 Pg at least in the markets behind the walls. Gason, hands still shaking from the fight, unearthed a stack of history books detailing the Northern Temples. Their pages whispered of older horrors, rituals that once bound the dead, and secrets that might explain why the siege had never truly ended.

As the three survivors limped back toward the distant lights of the city, the wind carried new sounds—low, wet laughter from the Customs House tower, and the shuffle of countless feet stirring in the ruins. The wealth they carried felt heavier now, tainted. Gordon and Jayson were gone, swallowed by the bones of the old world. And in the deepening dark, the lads realized the truth that every Wall Stormer eventually learns:

The undead do not simply wait outside the walls.

They *build* the walls. They *haunt* the treasures. And they never let the living leave unchanged.

The North Gate loomed ahead, but behind them, something vast and patient stirred once more. The siege was far from over.
================
While we have our misgivings over AI, sometimes I like to dabble and see what direction it goes.. Todays AI written story comes from these notes:

Customs house, no treasure, Gordon dead, Gason dead. Smithy, treasure: lore & metal working. Guildhall, Jeffry fails, but saved, story lore and small treasure, Temple Jeffry dead, treasures found. 

Hidden Information in Roleplay Games

 Recently I read a post about some people consider it cheating to use a piece of paper to takes notes. I Balked. Why? So I deep dived into the topic to understand it better.

Should GMs allow players all information? 

Should Players Meta play?

Its a common enough topic that I might not have considered writing a blog for it, so I don't want to go into it and bore you if you've read it all before, so let me just preface this with a paragraph or three on secret information.

Hidden information games, come in two varieties, Known (but often forgotten) and Unknown (but discoverable). outside of this, are random hidden, which I find, and seems a majority of the internet agrees, is not a great mechanic and is often used only in poorly design or children's games. So not worth discussing here.

Unknown but discoverable, makes 100% sense. You might start a game, such as Pagan, where you have 9 possible suspects, you whittle down the list by A) watching your opponent give them more power, and B) eliminating the suspects, until either of you have enough information to win.

Unknown Information in Roleplay

I don't hear of it often enough, but I do not understand why players get to know the stats of the enemy? Unless their character has encountered this creature often, and knows their standard moves, it makes zero sense. The first encounter should be caution, you don't have a clue about it, learn what it is, and how it reacts. It might even be friendly, but might be unknowingly deadly too.

The interaction of players with the unknown, is half of what roleplay is about. Yet we throw that out the window for combat.   

Known but Forgotten

But, Known but forgotten? A Game like Catan, you can see what cards a player picks up on their turn, you can memorize this, and as such always know at all times what all players have. But, this means you need to have a great memory or some cool memory tricks to hold this info. So some players are driving Ferrari's and some have Corolla's, So should a game create speed limits? doesn't seem fair to me.

This leads me to think, If the point of the game is to compete over who has a better memory, then ok. but its not fun, and you'll soon find yourself not playing games anymore if you're at either end of the spectrum of memory.

So instead players with poorer memories should be allowed to take notes about who has what cards, to level the playing field a little. 

That said, in roleplay, we have a stat 'INTELLIGENCE' which dictates how much memory a character should have.. Its worse, we're talking about a roleplay game, where the characters Intelligence doesn't always match the players Intelligence, how can we level that playing field? shouldn't we be be using this as a game mechanic? 

Notes in Roleplay

Players are not often banned from taking notes in a roleplay game, but I propose that there should be limitations and encouragements based on character Intelligence scores.

When you should take notes, how much notes you take on any given topic, daily allowances vs limits to maximum notes? Even if we did, players might personally remember everything.

I encourage players with lower than 10 INT to not write things down and 'forget' anything that happened in any previous session that wasn't "big". I might jot down those big items to remind the team, i.e. weakest link, I keep those level of notes for players, but above that, players are encouraged to jot down 1 item per 3 pts INT above 10.

Recently, because I'm running Westmarches, there are 20+ players with 50+ characters, so I've got people writing down the names of the other characters they've met and dealt with, and again, based on their INT score, they can tick that many to 'instantly' remember their details, vs all the rest they need a reminder key, something we're still working on. i.e. if they were both on the quest for the red key, and the red key gets mentioned, then they recall the whole person, not just their name or thing.

I some of my players use the characters weapons as their actual knowledge, as a more interesting nuance "Oh, you two, Bow guy and Shield girl, sure, we met 3 years ago in that tavern".

The more interesting (to me) is that players are learning about how people remember each other, real life education from playing a game.      

 It becomes it own little meta game, should I tick 2-3 pieces of information? or create a memory key and link that to a bunch of information. I have memorized the 7 secret dials for the dungeon we are coming up on, but to do that I need to drop the names of my rivals and the recipe for that +1 Intelligence soup. How can I group  it to a memory key?  

 

 

History of the Wallstorming World - The Game

 This Sunday we played out an insane concept. Trying to teach, run and complete a game for 12 players in a game half finished. Why would anyone put up with that? for me, for my birthday. I do this every year.

Bannisters Big Bad Birthday Bash Bonanza

So for this year, I want to build up some lore & story of the town of J'semby. I need to know some critical things: What buildings needed to be torn down, to make room for the farms and orchards needed to grow enough food for the population to survive.

How much material from the old town will be needed, what stone needs to be repurposed for what other buildings? Where will new wood come from?

In the past, having large conversations usually devolves into chaos, I either need to break it apart into bite sized turns, or break down the concept into bite sized decisions.

A quick way to do this is with cards. Each card has its own rules ON the card, so you can quickly surmise what you can and can't do, no need to ask or look up the rules.

This can sometimes also mean, players can think about their turns in advance, looking over their cards and comparing to others.

So I started with the core premise. what do I want. I want players to choose buildings in their district that are no longer useful, to them, and tear them down, to make room for food production.

The city is under Siege. Refugees are flooding into the city as the zombies approach. supply lines are being squeezed, then shut down. Its a calamity, when people get stressed they panic. multiple refugees in the same location means unease, distrust, mob mentality.

When things get bad, then worse, the city officials need to act. They have too many people for the buildings that exist, they need to house them or lose them. Promoting someone else to take in the masses might be a good idea, maybe load them on ships? 

That's stage one of the game, dealing with the overwhelming numbers. Refugees pouring into the city.

What I did was create a deck builder game. you 'place' all your city buildings, use them to create resources. All starting cards, (cept maybe 2-3) will allow you to draw more cards. Since your hand is 5 cards, with a good draw, you can play out all your cards, and get no inefficiency.

When you get your first refugee, you 'might' get 4 non-redraw cards, but that last one will still allow you to play out your whole hand.

The 2nd and 3rd refugee though, is guaranteed to create a blockage, you now have potentially 6 cards that will block your ability to play more. With a worst case 10 cards left in your deck, you get 3 unrest cards (guaranteed to create further unrest) so you will need to bargain with your neighbours to unblock you.

Each turn after, you need to spend some resources to 'extend' existing buildings. house the refugees, and even feed them somewhat, they will 'pay' at first.

So as a deck builder, the whole idea is to 'clear out dead / not good cards, and buy in better cards. The mechanic of getting ;stuck' with refugees worked out ok, but it was a harder slog than I expected. 

I had 80% regular players, but even they struggled to get the machines rolling in their minds. 

I had to make a decision. Abandon this version mid play, and go back to the earlier drawing board, OR struggle through it.. at what cost and what reason.

Obviously, flipping the script meant 2-3 players dropped out. which would have happened if I continued the struggle. 

The 'simpler' game was not working, it had too many holes. So we closed out at 5 with 'some' parts working, others not so much, but at least I had the 'data' for this run to work from.

Afterwards I thought about it (alot) and thought that maybe a tableau game would suit better. Place out the buildings at the start, AS the map. figure out your meeple=>food from the start, and work from that.

Instead of complex 2-3 possible actions per building, and multiples of wood/stone/coin to build. 

Just boil it down to what's plausible within 1 turn, break larger buildings into 2, 3 or 4 cards to represent costs, i.e. "wood" and show the cost & benefit at the top.

Instead of drawing refugees, you 'place' them, some buildings can cope with some spares (church) and even convert them into meeples (labour) so people feel like its a bad idea to tear down a church later on. (sure the land and the stone could be put to better use.. but the housing for refugees is awesome.

The whole point would be to have some trade-off for each building. 

I want lumberyards to 'store' wood, stone masons to carve stone, neither of which exists inside the city walls at first. you need to build them.

I want townhalls, guilds, theatres, other kinds of buildings that have a use, but in some ways are useless for a whole city to have multiples if the walls are closed and food is scarce.

So back to the drawing board, and we'll see what happens next.

       

Wallstormers #10.03

 Its been a week since the gates were opened, Phillip and Pete felt cheated. They're both gone out, with a group of friends, kids they'd grown up with, or friends of friends they knew well. The gate training hadn't done enough justice to the horrors that lay beyond. They'd lose their entire parties, sole survivors of a horror that just won't quit, going a little crazy over all the attention they received as survivors, a week of debauchery and or drink left them emotionless, void, empty, drained of all life and now depressed.

They found themselves sitting side by side at a bar, overhearing how one of last years wallstormers was looking to go out, he knew of a place where some treasure was stored. He needed to form a party, as they wouldn't let out lone individuals.

Phillip was upset he'd lost the 'big' treasure, Pete, also his group had found something of great worth and lost it to the horde. So they both listened in to the story this fellow was telling with knowing nods and muttered agreements.

After he failed to raise a crowd, he noticed Pete and Phillip looking his way, recognised the faces. Approached trepidly, "Aye Lads, m'names Levi".

A short talk and a few excited gasps as the three swapped stories, and it was decided, they were going out the next day on the 'open gate' day.

Recently the council had discussed this abuse of the guards and bribes, it was a tradition, but not a proud one, not a good one, so they discussed improving the situaton. 

"Open Gate" day was invented, 1 week after the kids had done their official gate runs, the rest could form groups, go out and raid the houses, mark them if they're clear, retreat to the gate.

If any large groups of zombies were spotted, they'd ring the bell, to inform everyone to return as soon as possible, the gates would be shutting.

So here it was 8am, Levi, Pete and Phillip, weapons in hand, ready to get back their treasures.

Some of the buildings looked a little worse for wear since last year, but some closed doors suggested unraided buildings, so they made their way to the first one they saw. There was a reason for it. a Basement entrance to a workshop with obvious signs of blood damage, the next door strangely reinforced by some inner material made it impossible to break from the hinges.

Not being deterred that a building had some level of difficulty, the team found their way through the main doors to discover a spooky, but empty house. The only remaining furniture was a 22ft long dining table, and some giant 4 poster beds in the upstairs, but as they were searching, They found a seance room, complete with a strange machine that played music when you entered the room (triggered by a false step at the entrance)

They managed to disable it and take it out the house, (which fetched a decent price at the Music Guild) but Phillips recent PTSD seemed to be causing him to react poorly to situations, freaking out the team.

The culminated in the group finding a secret entrance to the attic, which had only the one means of access. The Chimney.

The Lion Statue, The Chimney and the Witch.   

In Designing this game, I felt it a little prudent, to create some quest items to help the game along. I expected more diligence in players finding these things, without needing to prompt, so I often found players missing clues or information needed to progress the game further.

Its not in my nature to modify the game to suit the story. The places exist, players either find them or not, I will attempt to leave clues, or point things out, but I did something this week that felt.. like cheating. Its done now, its too late.

When I described the chimney to the players, mentioning that the rungs went both up and down. The group discussed that going down would lead to the basement, where it was already discovered flooded with blood. So they decided to leave. I had this happen twice already in this house, players, upon discovering the secret chimney entrance, thought it too dangerous and left it alone.

I got a little miffed, and repeated my phrase "both UP and down" with emphasis.

They got the hint, but I broke my rule. 

On with the quest

Having discovered the Chimney and discussed the blood pooling at the bottom, Pete took a second look and realised he'd dismissed the rungs going up. They ascended.

The room was covered in dust, undisturbed for a century. A library, a desk, a Crystal ball. and a Ghost.

The Old woman Phillip had spotted before, and unknowingly helped up the stairs, was here, unable to speak, she motioned to the crystal to tell them a fortune. Phillip asked for a bunch of metal. the Witch was unimpressed, and gave him a scroll to find it, bade him not open until later (because I knew it would disrupt the story flow). Levi, thought for a moment and instead of wishing something for himself, wished to communicate with the witch. Impressed, she felt this group might go a little further, so she spoke with him, and him alone. Through him, Pete wished to help the old lady rest.

Up until this moment the lads were attempting to steal the last few items, the giant beds, the chandelier, each time thwarted by size, weight or the witch herself, they felt, by 'allowing her to move on' they could finally claim these items.

The Witch, knowing that the only way they could, would be to clear the basement, and that meant one thing. defeating the blood. A Tall ask, but a pertinent one.

She produced a scroll, it showed a silver lantern, pushing back red lines (blood) and the street sign, and the building it was in. The players knew enough about the old town to figure out where it was.

Now things are getting good.

They came out of the house, struck a deal with another group to help carry back the two big tables and collect a years rent on the deal. 

We rounded out the session with some 'specialized magic brew & alcohol' drinks.. Levi had heard of the 'Orange' drink, so he tried it, the one that shows you orange footsteps, but no-one in the tavern showed any, except themselves very very faintly.  

Chatting with AI - regular blog

 I think this is kind of weird and kind of funny, you need to take a lot with stride of the AI and its quirks, but if you do, you can gleam some insights.

Explaining your game to AI

to see how much it works,

and trying to ignore the sycophantic nature

    Image Prompt: AI helping me write the game.

The Latest AI is a funny thing, it loves to tell you what a great idea you had, and how it can help you use it. Like any thing in life, you need to control yourself, not get caught up in the nature of the salesman and treat everything like a trap, BUT still enjoy the experience along the way.

I've been explaining my game system to AI and getting it to walk through stress tests and such things. I used to do this with friends every Sunday, but patient can get thin, people have their own desires and push them, and you can get lost in the weeds.

I've explained how one time, we had a 4hour, single combat round, to try to understand HOW this stuff worked. It was the lynchpin that eventually broke up our group, yet it was also a very powerful learning experience that taught me a LOT about roleplaying, gaming, and games mastering that has helped my career as a professional Games Master.

So having a 'robot' to talk through, rationally, (if you can ignore the constant praise) the game rules, its quite nice.

What has it helped me with? blocks of text. that's it.

Each and every time it had an insight? it was just telling me what I already told it, or what I hadn't yet told it.

What it did do, was structure out 12 paragraphs, in a clear and concise way that I had pages of fluff and drivel. 

My 12 archetypes, sure, I had them 'sorted' but clearing up a niggling word or a phrase to match the pattern of the other 11, was very helpful. saved me days.. but only because I knew the topic.

If I didn't know this, I might fall into the trap of letting IT do the work, and oh boy, that would have been a disaster.

So often it has dropped a lifestyle or inserted a new one that didn't exist.

My Skills lists have grown, and shrunk a dozen times from missing or false positives added, or morphed lists. Often the skills don't even match the medieval culture, because AI context only goes back ~100k+ tokens. so the first question gets lost along the way.

As a result, I can't just copy paste its work, I always have to take what it says with a pinch of salt, and I need to double check its lists.

What it DOES do well, is 'create' new stuff that is unimportant. Lists of NPC names, professions, career paths, etc, Its.. the stuff in the background.

Have you noticed, with an AI painting, the first glance everything is right.. then when you inspect it.. things are wrong, things in the background are not quite what you'd expect.. from a distance, without scrutiny, its all ok, just up close that face in the background has a 3rd eye, or is it an ear, that hair colour is not quite natural, that arm, where did that extra arm come from.

As its is with the background noise of NPCs, at a glance, all ok, all useful, then when you need that NPC ist stats don't match its career, its backstory is a little off from the plot of the game. 

Its ok, I can cross out the parts that don't work, mid game, and proceed. It was saving me 'some' time, but I am prepared just in case, as any half decent GM should be.      ;P

Wall Stormers #101 - AI

 As an experiment, I fed in the last wallstormers directly to AI and asked it to flesh out the plot, and provide some images:

Waillstormers:

 

The Gates Have Opened #101

The great iron gates of the South Wall groaned open for the first time in three months, just wide enough for five young figures to slip through. Dawn had barely broken, and the besieged city behind them was starving. Outside lay the forgotten districts — once thriving, now a rotting maze of collapsed roofs and silent streets.
The five chosen were all eighteen, the age when the South Siders believed courage still burned hottest and fear had not yet calcified into caution.
Thorne, the Warrior — broad-shouldered, reckless, carrying a heavy iron-banded club and a dented shield.
Lira, the Doctor — sharp-eyed and steady-handed, satchel filled with herbs, bandages, and precious surgical tools.
Finn, the Artisan — clever fingers, quick mind, carrying a short spear and a bag of tools for prying open locked chests.
Sable, the Ranger — quiet, lethal with her long hunting bow and a brace of arrows fletched with crow feathers.
Kael, the Commoner — one of their own, no noble blood, no special training. Just a scavenged axe, patched leather armor, and the desperate hope of the people watching from the walls.
They moved like shadows, hearts hammering. This was not a raid for glory. It was a raid for survival.
 

First Blood in the Burnt Quarter

They began with the burnt-out houses just right of the gate. Charred timbers groaned in the wind.
In the second ruined home, Lira stepped through a weakened floorboard and fell halfway into a dark crawlspace. Dust and rotten hands immediately grabbed at her ankles. Before she could scream, Finn yanked her back, shouting, “Backrooms! Storage cellars! They hide in the dark spaces!”
A desiccated zombie lunged out of the gap, jaw unhinged. Sable’s arrow punched through its eye socket, but another creature seized her from behind, teeth scraping across the mail on her shoulder. Kael hacked its arm off with his axe, then finished it with a brutal downward chop.
Shaken, they pressed on to the old marketplace street. In a collapsed tailor’s shop, Kael found something beautiful among the ruin — a finely forged shortsword, still bright under layers of dust, its edge surprisingly keen. He traded his clumsy axe for it without hesitation. For the first time, he felt like he truly belonged among them. 

The Larger Shop

The next building had once been a prosperous merchant’s hall — two stories of dusty shelves and broken display cases.
Thorne, ever the bold one, pushed ahead. As he rounded a corner into the back storeroom, three zombies that had been trapped behind fallen beams suddenly broke free. One clamped onto his shield arm, another drove him to the ground.
Kael charged in without thinking. He drove his new shortsword up under the first creature’s chin, then shoulder-barged the second off Thorne. The Warrior rose roaring, smashing the third one’s skull with his club.
Panting, covered in black ichor, Thorne clasped Kael’s shoulder. “I owe you, Commoner.”

The Third Shop – The Box Trap

The third shop seemed almost peaceful — an old general store with high shelves. Then Finn noticed movement behind stacks of moldy crates.
Without warning, the piles exploded outward. At least seven zombies had been sealed inside for years. They came screaming, starved and furious.
Chaos erupted.
Sable put two perfect arrows into skulls before she was tackled. Thorne tried to protect her and was dragged down by three at once, his shield torn away. Kael and Finn fought desperately back-to-back, but the numbers were overwhelming.
Lira dragged Thorne free, stitching a deep bite on his forearm with shaking hands while the others covered them. But Sable… they couldn’t reach her in time. Her screams were cut short as the pack overwhelmed the Ranger.
They killed the last zombie with tears and rage. Sable was gone. Only four remained. 

The Warehouses – Where Everything Broke

Grief-stricken but determined, they crossed the street into the large warehouse district. They hoped for preserved grain or tools. What they found was a nightmare.
The warehouses had become nesting grounds. Dozens of zombies shuffled in the gloom between towering stacks of rotten crates. The moment the four entered, the dead noticed fresh meat.
The fighting was brutal and hopeless.
Lira was snatched from behind while trying to help a wounded Finn. She screamed once as they pulled her down into the darkness between two rows of shelves. Thorne and Kael tried to fight through to her, but more poured in. They could hear her voice — brave, cursing them to run — before it became a wet, gurgling cry.
They had no choice. They ran. 

The Bathhouse – Desperate Treasure

With only three left — Thorne, Finn, and Kael — they limped into the old public bathhouse, hoping for medicines or preserved oils. The marble halls were eerily beautiful, lit by shafts of light through collapsed domes.
Here the dead were fewer, but stronger — some twisted by long starvation into something almost predatory. A harrowing running battle through steam rooms and tiled pools followed. Finn took a nasty gash across his ribs. Thorne’s shield finally split in two.
They grabbed what they could:
Sealed jars of olive oil and honey
A small chest of silver coins
Several precious iron tools
A bolt of fine undamaged cloth
Most importantly, two large kegs of clean, distilled spirits (invaluable for both drinking and medicine)
Bloodied and broken, they decided the mission was over. They could not go further. 
Return to the Gates
As the sun began to set, three battered figures staggered back toward the South Gate. They were no longer the best and brightest who had left that morning. They were survivors carrying the weight of the fallen.
Thorne limped, supporting Finn. Kael walked point, new sword in hand, eyes hollow.
Behind them, the dead city stirred once more. Ahead, the gates creaked open just enough to receive them.
Cheers rose from the walls — weak, hungry cheers — as the three young heroes returned with treasures that might buy the city another few weeks of life.
But on the blood-stained streets behind them lay the Ranger and the Doctor, forever eighteen, swallowed by the ruins they had tried to reclaim.
Kael looked up at the cheering crowd and felt no pride. Only the cold knowledge that they would have to go out again. Soon.
The siege continued. 

Wall Stormers #101 - The Inn & the Iron Men

 In a world of Fantasy Taverns, surely someone would have invented some magical cleaning ?

WallStormers #101, the 2nd Gate - The Iron Lads

The Gates have opened.

The South siders have sent on their best and brightest, their most courageous. They sent out ++ the Warrior, ++ the Doctor ++ the Artisan, ++ the Ranger and one of our ow, the Commoner ++.

They checked on some of the burnt buildings to the right of the gate, then proceeded onwards to some of the old shops, The Doctor got caught in a gap and luckily the Artisan warned him about backrooms and storage to avoid a zombie, meanwhile the Ranger got pulled back from a bite, while the commoner found a decent weapon to fight with.

They proceeded on to a larger shop, where this time the warrior got in a spot of trouble to be pulled out by the commoner.

The third shop, some piles of boxes concealed a few zombies who burst out and chewed up the Ranger and Warrior, luckily the doctor at hand saved the Warrior, but the Ranger was gone for.

They decided to cross over to the warehouses, which went so badly for them, the Doctor was eaten alive, the others had to abandon him to save themselves.

The Bathhouse got so difficult, they grabbed what treasures they could, and abandoned the mission. with each of them treasures in hand, they returned to the gate.

Wallstormers #101: The Iron Men.

As the above walked out the main gate, people cheering and waving, our 'real' heroes took advantage of the open gate, and strolled out, ducking down a side alley, and awaited for the younglings to enter their first building.

Bob checked nervously, and they walked at a brisk pace away from the gate.

Bob checked his maps.. everything seemed so different now, the map didn't give the right details, that guy at the tavern might have tricked him.. but press on.

They travelled down the main street as far as they could. the last two buildings, likely 30 buildings down, one was a tavern.. everything else here was burnt down, years ago. it didn't match the map. There should be some kind of .. Hmph, Bob gave up. Somethings has happened he concluded.

The team saw the Tavern, almost pristine, untouched. it would likely have something of worth.

They clambered over the walls, checked the building for zombies.. empty. nice.

To make a quick get-away, they smashed through the gates. 

The stables seemed suspicious, the main building too, but after opening the doors to discover an almost untouched bar.. bottles! cutlery! cloth!.. wait.. cloth? how did that.. too late, after Z touched the cloth it triggered some magical security, and the doors all rolled shut, the bottles spun into a secret compartment. everything gone.. and that.. triggered noise.. made something upstairs alert.

The group made their way upstairs. the banging came from the second room.. luckily it was a armless zombie with a bucket on its head. 

no time for questions, they searched the place  

Beds. Metal Beds.. Warriors, all three, grabbed a bed each and they made their way downstairs. 

This was gonna be a haul and a half.

The gate, stood up. Oh.. 

Weapons drawn, axes on two of them, and a mace on the other. the fight was furious, and strange. The gate had formed itself into some winged like creature, each gate door an arm, the pole, somehow its body. when it splintered, it gathered those up to become ... more?

The team was not impressed, they went at it with all their might. silver arrows shot into its frame.. the archer lost focus, put one in his friends hand.. Argh! the pain.. they somehow smashed it apart.. (the axes did the work) and it went down.

Time to retreat.. zombies were headed in their direction. 

They reached the gate. a few zombies along the way, but quick witted actions led them to success. the gate guard asked for 2/3rds of a frame as a bribe, and got it. no time to argue.

The guild accepted hinges and a frame, the group were added to the register, A successful mission.

Too bad about those other kids, sure they brought back as much wealth, but at the cost of their two companions.. one a doctor no less.. such a shame.    

   

Wall Stormers #100

 The Brave Group, Readied, their followers cheering from the crowd, The Knight, The Sapper, The Jackknife and their trusted Priest, Acolyte of Gordon Blue.

They left from the North Gate, Searched the Ruins of former houses, marked them with the orange paint. Nothing of importance. A scrap of cloth, a rusty dagger. The Priest found something interesting, learnt something new, something that would come in handy for the day to come. The Knight, focused on doing his job, also became acutely aware of the situation at hand, but sadly too late. As they entered a familiar shop, the sapper turned to his group, excited to have found a shop of trinkets, right up his alley. Too late, the shopkeeper ripped out his neck.

The fought on, building by building, clearing the way, marking the houses are ready to burn. Some, things were worth keeping. A door, a frying pan, some old forgotten farm tools, the city would be happy. Without an influx of metal, life is getting harder.

A building, tattered cloths in the windows, a marking too familiar, the team take a step back, a single look between them, no, this is enough, time to return.    

Fantasy worlds vs Real Worlds, Major Differences!

 We forget often about the flow on effects of everyday life in roleplay games. Treating things like a peer to peer equal of medieval earth, but often in conversations around the table we discover how different things NEED to be, to give that sense of magical whimsy, and make our games feel more live

Magical Worlds Differences

This might be a re-occurring talking point, since it seems to me, most RPG games ignore it, most writers ignore it, most GMs and DMs ignore it, and yet, it should be common and used regularly, and I'm very interested in it enough to deep dive into the whys and hows of these differences.

Lets start with a common one. Lighting, in Towns.

Many magic spells lists have some form of continuous light as a low level spell. Mages need high to very high incomes or wealth to afford the costly materials, so they should be hiring themselves out, even as apprentices, with their abilities that the common public need but can't do.

I see Mages as programmers. Once in the 1990s we realised that 'math' could be done for accountants on a localised PC, average business could transfer their whole systems from paper to digital, do their accounts 10x faster, hire less book keepers, make less mistakes, hire cheaper uni student programmers to make ad-hoc programs to help, to now where we have massive dynamic systems that can cope with billions of businesses details.

Magic is on par with this kind of technology upgrades to lives, depending on your world, and your mages, it makes no sense that supremely high level magic is tied up in a university of spell casters, and the rest of the world is completely unaware of magic. That puts magic back into the University Univac of the 1960s, and what happened back then? people tinkered in their sheds, and invented Microsoft and Apple.

So the world builder need to take into account, where there magic is, Unis and Sheds? the start of Win 95? the dot com boom? 

So lets return to magic lighting. Kids, with some magic talent are born, they get to apprenticeship age, and the schools come say they'll sponsor a kid, but his parents are poor, so the kid needs to earn some living. 

Nearby the nobles are occasionally being robbed by very clever theives, and the guards that are hired, complain they can't properly see by lantern light. someone somehow remembers that continous light is a low level spell, and suggests that mages apprentices are hired to light up street lanterns at nightfall, and again X hours later, when the spell begins to fade (light lamp lighters in the 1800s)

Within a few years, an enterprising Mage, has a 'street lamps' business, where they hire out lanterns that last for 12 hours, being cast by apprentices, charged by apprentices, and the spell improved on by masters to last longer.

Now, noble families sleep better, having paid the lamplighters build for 12hour street lights that also glow red when someone moves nearby, or when someone with a low morale score comes close to their property.

Would theft become scarce if every street had cameras? automated detection systems? face recognition systems? no.. the theives will counter it, IF the worth is high enough to try. So the rogue career doesn't end, it just gets more interesting. 

Another: Light, nearby Healing.

Admittedly, healing isn't usually a low level spell, in some systems, it might be a d4 and stop death, giving the victim enough time to be taken elsewhere for deadlier blows, but the fact that a mortal wound is now negated under controlled conditions.. Warriors can train at full strength, like they do in Anime, not fearing serious damage or death, because one, both or also a nearby priest, has a healing spell that can do enough to pause bleeding or prevent death, giving them time to do greater healing.

So with Two warriors, fighting at full pelt, sure, pulling blows to help the situation, but accidental deaths will be mitigated, reduced to a manageable number, they're learn faster, and be better, much quicker than 'practice bouts' that we have to do.

What DOES light healing do? will it prevent a cold? diahorea? pregnancy? Is the morning after pill as easy as ducking down to the local church and speaking to a priest? There are gods of sex in some games, so surely those participants even have healing spells that prevent pregnancy, and are more than willing to provide that service to the public, (for a coin)

If cantrips that kill diseases and germs can be cast by even non mages, would it make sense that some young hedge wizard or druid or bard is employed at all food markets, to "clense" the tables each morning?

I think you get my drift.. So my idea for a few blogs and podcasts is to go through the general spells lists and discuss how they 'should' have changed your game world, and the continued after affects of generational usage.

Seriously, consider just how a cheap, non consumable, no flammable, light source, would have prevented the fires of Rome, the library of Alexandria, and the effect of those lost knowledge's. If the last 2 thousand years had retained those studies, would technology be leaps and bounds ahead of where we are today?