Unknown Americana Campaign Frames
Nov. 18th, 2002 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robotnik2004The first edition of Unknown Armies, cool as it was, left a lot of people scratching their heads and saying "yeah, but what do we actually do?" The second edition tries to answer that with a series of "campaign frames" that spell out: who are the PCs? why are they together? and what are they up to? There's some very good suggested campaigns in the rule book. (I'm especially partial to "The Friends of Charlie Verrick," "Mobius Dick," "Guns Against Magick," and "The Tuxedo Brigade," plus the Ken Hite campaign referenced on p. 201. And "Banjo Music Aversion Therapy" from the 1st edition.) I've also come up with a bunch on my own (stealing from a number of sources), oriented to my goal of a traveling "road movie" campaign.
Some possible campaign frames...
As with the character ideas, these are meant to spark creativity, not to limit it. I don't want the PCs to all be identical—far from it. I just want there to be more to hold the group together than "you met in a tavern." And I'm happy to come up with "missions" for the PCs if that's the kind of campaign frame we devise, but I'd also enjoy it if the PCs had an active goal or goals, something they actually wanted to accomplish, rather than just reacting to the plots of evildoers. (Don't worry, there will still be plenty of evil plots to react to.) This could be a magical goal ("We're going to unseat the occult Emperor of America."), a mundane one ("Someday, somehow, our rock band is going to make it to the top!"), or a mystery that might involve both ("Say... why do you suppose our father was carried off in the middle of the night by skeletal creatures dripping No. 10 engine oil?"). Money and power, revenge against your enemies, make the world a better place, or just try not to get killed: all of these are worthy goals too.
The Long Tour
You're a band—rock, blues, funk, country, that's up to you. You've been trying to make it big for years, but let's face it, the major record labels haven't exactly been beating down the door. Then you met the Man from the South. "I'm putting together a tour," he says. "Small towns, select venues. It's a long tour. One year. 333 shows. But if you give me a year of your lives, I'll show you every back road, back room and backside from Maine to Mexicali. And when the tour ends, one year from today, I'll make each one of you a star." There's something about this guy. Somehow you really believe he can do what he promises. If you can tough out the tour. How hard could that be?
Confidence Game
You're con artists, grifters, card sharps, pool sharks, hustlers. Always on the make, always on the move, always one step ahead of the law and three weeks ahead of the suckers that litter your path. Hey, if God didn't want us to steal, then why did He create so many bonehead dumbass chumps? Only one problem: somewhere between Lodi and Baton Rouge, you conned the wrong mark. Now you're sleeping badly and the shadows don't look right. Someone or something big and bad is coming after you, and coming hard. You can run, you can hide—or you can try to pull off the biggest con of all...
The Great and Powerful Oz
L. Frank Baum's Wizard of Oz books aren't just America's first great fantasy. They're allegorical occult texts that, if read properly, unlock the soul of the American nation and the golden road to Agartha, the Emerald City. You are a cabal of adepts and students of the occult that have unlocked the magick meaning of Oz. Now you must undergo the quests described within—Knowledge, Compassion, Courage, Home—and capture the Wizard's Throne. But there are cyclones in your path, and something wicked stirs in the West. Look out for flying monkeys. Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Kings of the Road
"No job too big, no job too weird." That's your motto. You're a independent trucking company with a very special market niche. You might not have as many trucks as the big boys, or pull down quite as much green, but when some rich occult weirdo wants to transport the accursed mummy of John Dillinger, or the one true death car of Bonnie and Clyde, well, there's only one company they think of calling. 10-4, good buddy. Better make that cuppa joe to go. This 18-wheeler has to be in Phoenix by sundown Tuesday, and you think the Things in the back might be thawing out, and waking up.
The Secret Circus
Let's not sugarcoat it: you're freaks. The human pin-cushion, the living torso, the Siamese triplets, the dog-faced boy. And those are the most presentable among you. Your Genuine Old Time Side Show and Cavalcade of Wonders rolls along the dusty back roads of rural America like something out of the last century. You move from town to town, traveling the secret highways, staying off the radar of the princes who only think they rule this land. What are you looking for? What happens when you find it? Step right up and see.
Black History Month
That's "black" history as in black secrets, black science, black ops. It has nothing to do with Harriet Tubman or the Underground Railroad. (Probably.) Think "Planetary" but with an American focus, and without any superheroes. (Probably.) You're a team of "black" historians, working out of a little known, barely funded office in the basement of the Library of Congress. You dig up the secret occult history of America. It's not glamorous, but nobody knows more of the truth than you. You uncover the black pages of America's past, the history that's not just concealed but "unhappened" by the powers that be.
The Corn Bread Cosa Nostra
Sure, the Sicilians have set up shop in Las Vegas. The Cubans are all over Florida. And those sick fucking Russians are making a move out of California. But in the rest of the South, the good ol' boys of the Dixie Mafia still call the shots. Your little gang has made a few big scores, you've got each others' backs, and you're ready to push your way to the top. But you need an edge. That other underworld—the Occult Underground—could be just the ticket. You can recruit some of those occult freakos to work for ambitious young gangsters, and vice versa. You cut the deals, you bridge the gap, and you skim the profits and power that rise to the top. Just keep it quiet... until the day you make your move to get a seat at the big table.
Cibola Seven and Seven
You just did seven years in the joint. Seven years of hard time, seven years you'll never get back. But there might be a payday in it. See, the old man in your cell block talked a lot before he died. You didn't have much else to do, so you listened. The old coot talked about the things he'd done and the places he'd seen and the powers he used to have. And he also talked about a treasure he'd found once, a secret place that only he knew how to get back to. He called it "Cibola." Trouble is, the old man wasn't too particular about who he talked to. So by the time he choked up his last ball of phlegm, he'd shared little bits and pieces of his secret with each of the other cons on the block. Seven convicts, each with a piece of the puzzle. On your own, what he told each of you ain't worth squat. But if you all put your heads together... well now, can't we all just get along?
And people wonder why I haven't finished my dissertation yet...
Some possible campaign frames...
As with the character ideas, these are meant to spark creativity, not to limit it. I don't want the PCs to all be identical—far from it. I just want there to be more to hold the group together than "you met in a tavern." And I'm happy to come up with "missions" for the PCs if that's the kind of campaign frame we devise, but I'd also enjoy it if the PCs had an active goal or goals, something they actually wanted to accomplish, rather than just reacting to the plots of evildoers. (Don't worry, there will still be plenty of evil plots to react to.) This could be a magical goal ("We're going to unseat the occult Emperor of America."), a mundane one ("Someday, somehow, our rock band is going to make it to the top!"), or a mystery that might involve both ("Say... why do you suppose our father was carried off in the middle of the night by skeletal creatures dripping No. 10 engine oil?"). Money and power, revenge against your enemies, make the world a better place, or just try not to get killed: all of these are worthy goals too.
The Long Tour
You're a band—rock, blues, funk, country, that's up to you. You've been trying to make it big for years, but let's face it, the major record labels haven't exactly been beating down the door. Then you met the Man from the South. "I'm putting together a tour," he says. "Small towns, select venues. It's a long tour. One year. 333 shows. But if you give me a year of your lives, I'll show you every back road, back room and backside from Maine to Mexicali. And when the tour ends, one year from today, I'll make each one of you a star." There's something about this guy. Somehow you really believe he can do what he promises. If you can tough out the tour. How hard could that be?
Confidence Game
You're con artists, grifters, card sharps, pool sharks, hustlers. Always on the make, always on the move, always one step ahead of the law and three weeks ahead of the suckers that litter your path. Hey, if God didn't want us to steal, then why did He create so many bonehead dumbass chumps? Only one problem: somewhere between Lodi and Baton Rouge, you conned the wrong mark. Now you're sleeping badly and the shadows don't look right. Someone or something big and bad is coming after you, and coming hard. You can run, you can hide—or you can try to pull off the biggest con of all...
The Great and Powerful Oz
L. Frank Baum's Wizard of Oz books aren't just America's first great fantasy. They're allegorical occult texts that, if read properly, unlock the soul of the American nation and the golden road to Agartha, the Emerald City. You are a cabal of adepts and students of the occult that have unlocked the magick meaning of Oz. Now you must undergo the quests described within—Knowledge, Compassion, Courage, Home—and capture the Wizard's Throne. But there are cyclones in your path, and something wicked stirs in the West. Look out for flying monkeys. Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Kings of the Road
"No job too big, no job too weird." That's your motto. You're a independent trucking company with a very special market niche. You might not have as many trucks as the big boys, or pull down quite as much green, but when some rich occult weirdo wants to transport the accursed mummy of John Dillinger, or the one true death car of Bonnie and Clyde, well, there's only one company they think of calling. 10-4, good buddy. Better make that cuppa joe to go. This 18-wheeler has to be in Phoenix by sundown Tuesday, and you think the Things in the back might be thawing out, and waking up.
The Secret Circus
Let's not sugarcoat it: you're freaks. The human pin-cushion, the living torso, the Siamese triplets, the dog-faced boy. And those are the most presentable among you. Your Genuine Old Time Side Show and Cavalcade of Wonders rolls along the dusty back roads of rural America like something out of the last century. You move from town to town, traveling the secret highways, staying off the radar of the princes who only think they rule this land. What are you looking for? What happens when you find it? Step right up and see.
Black History Month
That's "black" history as in black secrets, black science, black ops. It has nothing to do with Harriet Tubman or the Underground Railroad. (Probably.) Think "Planetary" but with an American focus, and without any superheroes. (Probably.) You're a team of "black" historians, working out of a little known, barely funded office in the basement of the Library of Congress. You dig up the secret occult history of America. It's not glamorous, but nobody knows more of the truth than you. You uncover the black pages of America's past, the history that's not just concealed but "unhappened" by the powers that be.
The Corn Bread Cosa Nostra
Sure, the Sicilians have set up shop in Las Vegas. The Cubans are all over Florida. And those sick fucking Russians are making a move out of California. But in the rest of the South, the good ol' boys of the Dixie Mafia still call the shots. Your little gang has made a few big scores, you've got each others' backs, and you're ready to push your way to the top. But you need an edge. That other underworld—the Occult Underground—could be just the ticket. You can recruit some of those occult freakos to work for ambitious young gangsters, and vice versa. You cut the deals, you bridge the gap, and you skim the profits and power that rise to the top. Just keep it quiet... until the day you make your move to get a seat at the big table.
Cibola Seven and Seven
You just did seven years in the joint. Seven years of hard time, seven years you'll never get back. But there might be a payday in it. See, the old man in your cell block talked a lot before he died. You didn't have much else to do, so you listened. The old coot talked about the things he'd done and the places he'd seen and the powers he used to have. And he also talked about a treasure he'd found once, a secret place that only he knew how to get back to. He called it "Cibola." Trouble is, the old man wasn't too particular about who he talked to. So by the time he choked up his last ball of phlegm, he'd shared little bits and pieces of his secret with each of the other cons on the block. Seven convicts, each with a piece of the puzzle. On your own, what he told each of you ain't worth squat. But if you all put your heads together... well now, can't we all just get along?
And people wonder why I haven't finished my dissertation yet...
