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(This is mostly for the benefit of my Boston-based gaming cronies. Any Toronto homeys that stroll this way will either feel a brief hit of nostalgia or else groan, "he's digging that out again?")

Cleaning out a pile of old floppies last night (I may be the last man in America to use cassette tapes, but I just realized I have no earthly use for floppy discs) I found this old beauty. Detailed summaries of The New Know-Nothings, a 1970s Mage game I ran in the mid-1990s. "If only there was a place," I often thought to myself back in 1995, "where a geek like me could 'publish' mildly creative but ultimately self-indulgent ramblings like these summaries of RPG sessions, for all the world to see..."

I cringe a little when I think of my GM-ing style for that game. The social contract was the standard White Wolf "you get to look cool, and I get to control the plot utterly." Also some of the ideas we stole from other media look a lot more egregious now than they did at the time. In 1995, a lot less people knew who Jet Li or The Invisibles were. Or even Cleopatra Jones for that matter. But I remain proud of the amount of goofy shit crammed into that game, and damn, we had fun. In the (purple?) living room of Chris and [livejournal.com profile] krustukles's first Toronto apartment, with Rhino's 5 CD History of Funk on repeat in the stereo, and the sweet smell of something Canada is rapidly decriminalizing in the air.

It's pretty long. I'll give you the list of PCs and Chapter 1, with Chapters 2 to 4 to follow. Think of it like an old time movie serial.

THE NEW KNOW-NOTHINGS

(Any ideas not stolen from the X-Files, Twin Peaks, The Prisoner, The Invisibles, Foucault's Pendulum, the Illuminatus! books, 1960s spy shows, 1950s sci fi, kung fu movies, blaxploitation movies, monster movies, Weird Tales, Lovecraft, old roleplaying adventures, the Banana Splits, Zeppelin lyrics, or Sean Rodman are strictly unintentional.)

It's 1974 and Vancouver is funky with fly-away collars, occult world-girdling conspiracies, and platform shoes.

The New Know Nothings (the name is meant to invoke images of cool 1960s and 70s spy shows like The Avengers or The Mod Squad) are an oddly-matched cabal of five magically-trained shit-disturbers brought together and trained by GABRIEL SERAFINI to combat the massive and sinister Conspiracy (ies?) threatening the world. The name "Know-Nothing" refers to the fact that our heroes know very little about their opposition, about Serafini's past, or even about their ultimate purpose. In part this is a security measure in case of capture, torture, etc., but it's also because Serafini wants the Know-Nothings to resist any and all authority -- including his own. Anyone who has a purpose or goal can be subverted by Them, Serafini says. Only a group who has no clue what's going on stands a chance of succeeding -- whatever "succeeding" might mean.

For various occult reasons, a cell of the Know Nothings consists of 5 members. (Are there other cells? Who knows?) Our original 5 were:

STEVEN STRANGE. A (formerly) powerful wizard inspired not by the comic book Dr. Strange but the ill-advised 1979 movie. Think Mike Brady avec cool daddy perm and cheezy moustache in a chocolate brown one piece turtleneck-bellbottom unitard and massive disco power medallion. An honorary "Rodman character," Strange had his brain sucked out through his nose and throat by the FOG MEN in the very first scene of the first adventure. It was later revealed that Strange was spying on Serafini and the Know Nothings for the BAVARIAN ILLUMINATI.

PACO LUPE CASTANEDA. Zen Tennis master and lust object of Catholic schoolgirls. His psychic powers -- drawn less from traditional "wizard" magic than from the inner workings of Zen Tennis and Muscle Mystery -- seem to increase when he's sweaty.

MORDECAI CORSO. William S Burroughs-inspired desert wanderer. Years of mystic training with the Hopi and Yaqui shamans as well as massive doses of every hallucinogen under the sun have opened Mordecai's mind to the spirit world. His totem animal and spirit guide, a talking COCKROACH only he can see, is rarely much help.

CLEOPATRA JONES. Rock on, sweet soul sister! Ass-kickin' sharp-shootin' voodoo priestess, red hot mama, and racial stereotype.

JET LI, aka "Iron Monkey." One man kung fu movie and combat machine. His "Four Fists of the Furious Mongoose" alone took out more baddies than the rest of the PCs combined.

Outside the original Five, the Know Nothings also teamed up with:

GABRIEL SERAFINI. The founder and mentor of the Know Nothings - sort of a cross between Hugh Hefner, Aleister Crowley and Professor X. A powerful wizard, an illuminated mystic, a sexual libertine and a snappy dresser. Once an agent of the TECHNOCRACY, later a member of the Illuminati, Serafini became an anarchist and opponent of all conspiracies. He encouraged the Know Nothings not to trust anyone, including him.

OTTO FRIPP. An "etherist," or mad scientist. An enthusiastic, if creepy, friend of Mordecai's. See Peter Lorre as Dr. Gogol in "Mad Love" or "The Hands of Orlac."

MARY MARGARET MEGAN. A teenage cultist of the Great Old Ones and novice witch. She's got a thing for Paco but really should be saving herself for Nyarlathotep.


Ok. The story so far.

EPISODE I: "IGNATZ NEVER REALLY INJURES"

When Steven Strange did not report back from a solo mission for Serafini, the rest of the Know Nothings investigated. They found him at a gay disco called The Opium Den, in the clutches of the Fog Men, weird Technocracy stormtrooopers in WW2 gas masks and trenchcoats. Our heroes made short work of the Fog Men, and evaded a pair of ominous WOMEN IN BLACK (WIBs), but not before Strange's brain was sucked out of his skull by the Fog Men into a charming device the players dubbed "the Brain Hoover." On Strange's person, the PCs found a mummified human fist covered with odd runes, and THE HAND was wrapped in a piece of paper reading "INRI."

Returning to Serafini's mansion, the PCs wanted to investigate Strange's death, but instead Serafini sent them to recruit a replacement. He gave a little speech about FUNFWISSENSCHAFT, the Law of Fives, which says that all occult power comes in fives, and then sent them to find a teenage girl named ALEXANDRA SLOAN.

Paco and Cleopatra Jones went to Alexandra's house, a bizarre mix of suburban kitsch and accoutrements of evil. Paco met Alexandra's mother HAZEL SLOAN and her "dog" POOCHIE, correctly realizing from the unspeakable lawn ornaments (kind of a cross between the Banana Splits and the Great Old Ones, which isn't really a stretch) and various other clues that Alexandra came from a long line of Cthulhu and other beastie worshipping suburbanites. Her grandmother (Lilith Hopkirk, a villain in an old Call of Cthulhu adventure we played) had in fact been burned at the stake during the "witch hunts" of the 1950s (get it?). Paco did a terrible job of impersonating a police officer, and only the GM's misguided desire to "go easy on them" at first prevented a bloodbath. Paco and Cleopatra also learned that Alexandra had gone missing only a few days before.

Mordecai and Jet went to Holy Martyr, Alexandra's school, and inevitable jokes about Catholic schoolgirls ensued. There they met Alexandra's friend Mary Margaret Megan, another Catholic for Cthulhu, and learned some more about her disappearance. Mary Margaret, eager to find her friend Alexandra and also enjoying hanging out with real live occult subversive commandos of legal drinking age, joined up with the four in their investigations. Mordecai also had a Twin Peaks-esque encounter with a NUN covered with stitches who gave him several important clues in the form of riddles he never got around to figuring out.

Then our heroes wandered around for a while, getting confused. They began to suspect that Alexandra Sloan was more important to Serafini than he would let on. WIBs showed up every now and then to chase the players, and a Mountie seemed to be tailing them too. Worse yet, those who could see into the UMBRA saw that the city was watched over by mysterious BLACK ZEPPELINS. They uncovered a dozen meanings for the mysterious formula "INRI," and began to suspect a link between it and the STEAM CLOCK, an ornate and elaborate clock in Vanier Park, near where Alexandra disappeared. Mordecai met more than his share of foamy-mouthed nutcases, including NENSLO BEAMISH, a raving paranoid who wore tinfoil on his head to block out orbital mind-control lasers (instantly christened "Mr. Potato Head"), and DOTTY, a bag lady who pushed around a shopping cart full of fish, and gave him a comic book called RED DYNAMO.

Hand symbolism, cross symbolism, and references to "INRI" abounded. The numbers 5 and 23 showed up more times than one might think possible. Serafini did a tarot reading, producing the card THE HANGED MAN, and much was made of the double meaning of the card: Martyr/Traitor. Who was the martyr and who was the traitor? Strange? Serafini? Alexandra Sloan?

The big break came when Jet Li, Mordecai, and Mary Margaret stumbled upon the Fifth Avenue Barbershop, an establishment owned by one GIDEON MATHER, the self-styled Witchfinder General of British Columbia. Jet threw Mather through about five windows (funfwissenschaft again) before getting him to spill the beans: he had been hired by the KNIGHTS TEMPLAR to produce a witch for a ceremony they were performing. The Steam Clock was, the Templars believed, an ENGINE OF PROPHECY powered by the HEAD OF JOHN THE BAPTIST, and with a witches' blood, could be made to speak.

So at the time designated by "INRI," our heroes went to the STEAM CLOCK, and sure enough, there was the Head of John the Baptist (for some reason it was a giant head, about five feet tall) and there were the Templars, horses, chainmail, maces and all. Not only that but the witches of suburbia showed up too, Alexandra's mother and Mary Margaret's mother and the rest of their curler-wearing, Shub- Niggurath summoning, polyester pantsuited coven, riding on the backs of their henpecked husbands, nighthag style. Jet and Cleopatra probably stacked up the highest body count, but Paco provided many of the best moments in the surreal 3-way fight scene that followed: firing tennis balls at the giant Head, heavy petting with Mary Margaret in hopes of empathically arousing the Templar's horses and thus destroying their charging formation, wrapping the front end of his AMC Gremlin (or was it a Duster?) around an armored knight...

But virtue triumphed, and with Alexandra safely rescued the Know Nothings beat a hasty retreat. They also learned part of the reason for Serafini's interest in the girl: she was actually his daughter, the result of a torrid affair between the swinger Serafini and the unspeakable witch Hazel. The GM was disappointed that no one was shocked by this cunning twist, so he went one diabolical step further. When father and daughter were reunited, Alexandra somehow produced one of Cleopatra Jones' pistols and shot Serafini five times. He died in a position suggesting the Hanged Man tarot card. (Traitor or martyr?) Then the Fog Men attacked.


Good times.

I'll send Episode 2 tomorrow. Or Monday. (Do people read their LiveJournals on the weekend?) Here's the teaser:

EPISODE II: SYMPATHY FOR THE SHOGGOTH
What's Serafini hiding in his basement? What are the Freemasons hiding in Chinatown? What did Queen Victoria hide under her bed? Why is Pierre Trudeau smiling? All this plus a lot of boring old men standing around talking. And Fog Men galore.

Date: 2003-05-09 06:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mgrasso.livejournal.com
I dig. Boy, do I dig.

Re Doctor Strange: I used to do this little thing called the MST Homegame, and we took apart the perm-wearing soul sorcerer #1. So I've seen it. :)

Be self-indulgent! It's a lovely thing to read first thing in the morning.

Date: 2003-05-09 06:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peaseblossom.livejournal.com
Dude, this rocks! It totally makes me wish I had kept notes on our college fat Elvis World of Darkness games. Maybe I'll make some up from memory while I still can remember some of what happened.

Date: 2003-05-09 10:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robotnik.livejournal.com
It totally makes me wish I had kept notes on our college fat Elvis World of Darkness games.

Ha! This I want to hear about.

Date: 2003-05-10 05:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peaseblossom.livejournal.com
Ah, unfortunately it's not as cool as all that. By fat Elvis I meant that it had gone on for far too long, wore way too many sequins, and was collapsing under its own weight. As Kirby puts it "I started the game out as an alcoholic and ended it as Bacchus." And that wasn't the worst of the atrocities committed. Still, it managed to keep us entertained for most of college...

Date: 2003-05-09 06:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] editswlonghair.livejournal.com
Around the time you were running this, I too had a charcter named Jet Li. It was a Vampire game up in Newburyport, and I was playing "Jet" Li Kar, Brujah muscle for a NYC triad...

Ah, the silliness of youth. Luckily we play so much seriously now... :)

And any game featuring a possible descendent of Increase Mather is alright in my book... Anybody remember Condition Mather from my reality hoping Adventure game? Anyone? Anyone? ;)

Date: 2003-05-09 06:40 am (UTC)
bryant: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bryant
You had a reality hopping Adventure game and you /didn't ask me/?

(OK, I probably hadn't met you at the time. And wasn't living in Boston. And I don't believe in pressuring people to let me into their games. And. Um.)

So my dirty little secret is that probably my favorite setting ever is the Aeon Continuum, by which I mean Trinity and Adventure. Can't be bothered with the unfortunate mess that is Aberrant, alas. But Trinity is where I've done most of my freelancing and Adventure is just plain cool.

Date: 2003-05-09 10:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] editswlonghair.livejournal.com
Yeah, I ran it last year I think. The Yahoo Group for it is still up (I just saved it from deletion the other day) if you wish to peruse some of the stuff for it:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RiverOfFate/

I really like Adventure too. Little rules heavy at times, the White Wolf combat rules are bloatware, but pulp is fun. My next 'big project' is Pulp Falkenstein. Let's see if I actually do it... :)

Date: 2003-05-09 10:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jeregenest.livejournal.com
You had a Reality Hopping Adventure! game? Must be that one I missed.

Date: 2003-05-09 10:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robotnik.livejournal.com
Well, I remember Condition Mather and the reality-hopping Adventure game. Alas, we only got to hop one reality, if I recall correctly, before the game's premature demise. If you ever want to spill the beans on what would have lain ahead of us, I'm all ears.

Here be beans...

Date: 2003-05-09 12:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] editswlonghair.livejournal.com
Let's see if I can remember... when we left the heroes, they had been captured by Condition Mather at Redemption Rock in Princeton, and had been shuffled off to Plymouth for a trial before the Star Chamber.

I was going to give you guys an opportunity to escape the jail during the chaos caused by a Papist terrorist attack upon the Commonwealth Parliament. I was assuming Father Joesph would steer the group in the direction of joining up with the Papists so you guys could figure out what the hell was going on... Elves on Pegasi!?! Puritans running New England?!? What the hell?!? (One of my favorite lines ever in an RPG... "Oh, that must be the Dutch..." Priceless.)

The game was going to turn into a treasure hunt as the party scoured Terra Victoria (my Falkensteinian WoD) for the pieces of the relic the Baron von Sebottendorf and the Nazis were assembling back in the real world, but got sucked through the wormhole along with the Baron and the party... there may have also been some Space:1889 kinda stuff planned, I can't remember. And time travelling further and further back in time to find the original point where this timeline skewed from the PC's home... for at the headwaters of the River of Fate would the party find a way to sail home... Oh, how sublime... :)

Meanwhile, back in reality, the Controllers of Echo Team received a parcel from a time travelling Nikola Tesla (they guy in the jetpack who swooped down to save someone from plummeting to certain doom in the Falls). He clued them into the whole Technocracy conspiracy, etc. Armed with that info, they may have been able to uncover another Technocracy built Temporal Displacement Core at Victoria Falls, and maybe be able to somehow get the party back from the alternate reality...

Oh well. I was using this thing as a big crossover between WoD and Castle Falkenstein... I wanted to slowly introduce the card based resolution system I had been cooking up for White Wolf games. But it's just as well. Now I'll just play straight up Falkenstein since most of the players I game with now aren't WW purists like most of the folks I gamed with a few years ago...

And I'm sure some of this stuff will be recycled in future games. The Baron von Sebottendorf and the chrononaut Tesla are too cool of NPCs to not be used again...

The Old New Know-Nothings

Date: 2003-05-09 12:03 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
If I remember this fantastic series correctly, the four of us (and the fifth NPC) role-played the New Know-Nothings perfectly: we were absolutely clueless to Rob's detailed script. I always worried that a little piece of Rob died each time we missed an obvious clue, or made a crude joke during a serious moment (fist of fury, Sammy Davis Jr., Que?) during which was the best game that I think I ever played (excepting The Colour From Outer Space, of course).

My deepest apologies,

Chris.
http://www.gammafodder.com/mt/index.html

Date: 2003-05-10 05:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] krustukles.livejournal.com
Awww man that takes me back. IIRC, we actually spent most of our time with this game in Chris' student house. Ahhh, the magical RPG summer of 1994. Those were happy times, when we debated about whether the 80s would return, drank disgustingly chemical laden drinks, ate the giant hamburger (not a euphemism), tolerated occasional drunken intrusions from various engineers, wondered about the tensile properties of Rodman's hair, and sweated like pigs in the heat of the sunroom kitchen with the Formica table.

Oh yeah, and our living room was yellow. Close enough.

Rock on, sweet soul brother.

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