Written and edited by Marcus L. Rowland
Copyright © 1998, portions Copyright © 1993-7
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0.0 - Introduction
Previous Forgotten Futures collections have concentrated on scientific
romances, the Victorian and Edwardian equivalent of science fiction. This
collection moves to another literary field, adventures in the world of
Victorian (and earlier and later) melodramatic fiction. It describes a style of
role-playing that is especially suitable for a Victorian or Edwardian
campaign, but may also suit campaigns based on material written in this period
but set in earlier or later eras.
Melodrama is defined as [1] a play, film, etc. of a crudely emotional or
sensational style, [2] the dramatic genre embodied by such works, and [3] a
real-life situation comprising sensational elements.
Definition [1] could easily be applied to most role-playing adventures; the
exceptions are scarce. Most RPG rules (including Forgotten Futures) devote a
disproportionate amount of space to combat and other forms of violence. Despite
this, very few adventures are deliberately written in the genre, as defined in
[2] above.
The essence of period melodrama can be spelled out in a few words; stories
in which good triumphs, evil always gets what it deserves, and love conquers
all. Every scene must be full of action, pathos, or romance, and must advance
the plot to some degree. Sometimes these ideas were taken to ridiculous
extremes as in this example, a review of a story with a naval setting:
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[Review, by George Bernard Shaw, March 1896, of True Blue by Leonard Outram and Stewart Gordon] "First there is the lady matador who loves the captain and hates the
heroine, whom the captain loves. Then there is the heroine who also loves the
captain. And there is the heroine's maid who loves the comic sailor, who loves
the bottle. Suddenly the cruiser is ordered to up anchors and sweep England's
enemies from the sea. The women resolve not to desert the men they love in the
hour of danger. The matadoress, a comparatively experienced and sensible woman,
slips quietly down into the pantry adjoining the captain's cabin. The maid gets
into one of those setee music boxes which are, it appears, common objects on
the decks of cruisers, and is presently carried into the captain's cabin. The
heroine, taught by love to devise a surer hiding-place, gets into one of the
ship's boilers. Here the hand of the idiot is apparent, striking out a
situation which would never have occurred to Shakespeare. Once fairly at sea,
the matadoress gives way to an inveterate habit of smoking and is smelt out by
the captain. She throws her arms boldly about him, and declares he is hers
forever. Enter, inopportunely, the navigating officer. He is scandalised, but
retires. When he thinks it is safe to return, it is only to find the maid
emerging from the setee to dispute possession of the captain, on behalf of the
heroine, with the matadoress. Hereupon he describes the ship as the captain's
harem, and is placed under arrest. Then comes the great dramatic opportunity
of the matadoress. Becoming acquainted, heaven knows how, with the hiding
place of the heroine, she takes the stage alone, and draws a thrilling picture
of her rival's impending doom. She describes her in the clammy darkness of the
boiler, listening to the wild beats of her own heart. Then the sensation of
wet feet, the water rising to her ankles, her knees, her waist, her neck and
only by standing on tip toe, with frantic upturned face, can she breathe. One
mercy alone seems vouchsafed to her: the water has lost its deadly chill. Nay,
it is getting distinctly warm, even hot -- hotter -- scalding! Immortal powers,
it is BOILING; and what was a moment ago a beautiful English girl in the
exquisite budding of her beautiful womanhood, is now but a boilerful of soup,
and in a moment will be but a condenser full of low-pressure steam. I must
congratulate Mrs Raleigh on the courage with which she hurled this terrible
word-picture at a house half white with its purgation by pity and terror, and
half red with voiceless, apoplectic laughter. Need I describe the following
scene in the stoke-hold -- how the order comes to fill the boiler; how the
comic sailor, in shutting the manhole thereof, catches sight of the white
finger of the captain's young lady; how the matadoress in disguise comes in,
and has all but turned on the boiling water when the comic sailor disables the
tap, by a mighty blow from the sledge-hammer; how he rushes away to tell the
captain of his discovery; how in his absence the fires are lighted and the
cold water turned on; and how at the last moment the captain dashes in
shouting 'Draw the fires from No 7' (the heroine is in No 7), rushes up the
ladder to the manhole and drags out the heroine safe and sound, without a
smudge on her face or a crumple in her pretty white frock, amid delirious
cheers from the audience..." |
The most famous melodrama was probably The Bells (Leopold Lewis 1871), a tragedy which is excellent as an example of melodramatic acting and characterisation. The plot is simple; on the eve of his daughter's betrothal the Burgomaster of an Alsace village is overcome by remorse as he remembers his one evil deed, the murder of a Jewish merchant many years earlier. Much of the play consists of monologues, unheard by the rest of the cast, in which the Burgomeister wrestles with his conscience, flashbacks in which he re-enacts the crime, and a dream sequence in which he is tried and found guilty. It ends with his death, a stroke occurring as he imagines himself hung. A recurring theme is the noise of sleigh bells, unheard by the rest of the cast, heralding another vision or memory of the crime. Subplots involve the future son-in-law, a gendarme, slowly working out how the murder was committed without realising who the criminal must be, the preparations for the wedding, and the family's concern for his health, but the focus is always on the Burgomaster.
The play was written for Henry Irving, and was designed to confirm him as the premier melodramatic actor of his day, so the other parts are comparatively minor, but it nevertheless shows some of the basic themes of melodrama; a villain who is apparently respectable but hides a shocking secret, an innocent heiress, and a dashing suitor. Guilt leads the criminal to his death, even though his guilt is never really suspected. The wicked flee where nobody pursues. It was an enormous success, and toured frequently until Irving's death in 1906.
If The Bells were run as an adventure, the Burgomaster would probably be an NPC, with the players looking for the murderer and gradually finding reasons to suspect him. They might realise that he had a morbid fear of bells, and use them to frighten him into telling the truth. They might fake the appearance of a ghost, or mesmerise him to unearth the truth. Trickery of this type kept the TV series Mission Impossible in business for several years.
Although a "crisis of guilt" can't sustain many adventures, some of the other "givens" of melodrama, and especially of "shockers", the action sub-genre of melodrama, can easily be adapted to any RPG.
Two other melodramas, from the first half of the 19th century, have been included to illustrate these aspects of the genre. Both are based on horror stories written during an Italian holiday in 1816; one by Byron's doctor (and possibly his lover) John Polidori, the other by their friend and house-guest Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.
The Vampire, or The Bride of the Isles (J.R. Planche 1820) is based on Polidori's novel The Vampyre (1819), one of the sources for Stoker's Dracula. Polidori "lifted" the name of the main character, Lord Ruthven, from the novel Glenarvon by Lady Caroline Lamb. In both novels the Ruthven character is an unflattering caricature of Lord Byron; an odd repayment since Byron wrote the story outline on which The Vampire was based.
Frankenstein; or The Man And The Monster (H.M. Milner 1826) was one of several plays based on Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus (1818).
Naturally the melodramas miss many of the nuances of the original stories; they were the direct ancestors of today's Hammer Horror productions, with the same pseudo-gothic atmosphere and vagueness of period and geography, and are an excellent introduction to the most sensational style of melodrama.
This collection also includes some melodramatic fiction:
A Bid For Fortune (Guy Boothby 1895) is a full-length novel that introduced Doctor Nikola, one of the great villains of melodramatic fiction. Although he only appeared in five novels, he is evidently the source for several characters including Carl Peterson (Sapper's Bulldog Drummond stories), Blofeld (the James Bond stories; Nikola even carried a cat...), and is acknowledged as a source for Doctor Doom (Marvel Comics). Boothby's influence is most obvious in Sapper's novels; Bulldog Drummond begins with a scene modelled on the opening of A Bid For Fortune, and the heroines of both books had the same name. The second book of the series, Dr. Nikola, is on the new release of the Forgotten Futures CD-Rom, launched at the same time as this collection; there wasn't room to include both books on a floppy disk. A few relevant details from this book are mentioned at various points below.
The Amateur Cracksman is a collection of the first eight Raffles stories by E.W. Hornung. Raffles, the "gentleman cracksman", a cricketer turned to crime, appeared in three short story collections and one novel, as well as many stories by later authors. He was undoubtedly an influence on The Saint and other later characters, although he seems to have much less of a conscience; his robberies are mostly motivated by greed and a love of danger, but the stories often show more complex facets of his character. All of Hornung's Raffles stories, including the rare novel, are on the CD-Rom.
A Bubble Burst (Fred M. White, 1902) is one of the "Doom of London" series published in Pearson's Magazine; the others were included with Forgotten Futures 5. It describes a financial fraud that comes close to destroying the Bank of England and the stock market.
Note: For space reasons A Bubble Burst could not be included with FF V as originally distributed, but was added to the expanded version on the FF CD-Rom. Since some registered users don't yet own the CD-Rom, and it's a crime story that completes this series, I've repeated it here.
Melodrama can be used in several ways in a role-playing campaign. Any adventure may have melodramatic elements added; this usually works, although there is a danger of taking them to the point of self-parody. The Ganymedan Menace (FF II) is in this genre.
A more fundamental shift in style is to run an adventure as a melodrama, using all the conventions of the genre; elaborate death traps, characters speaking in "asides" to an imaginary audience, mesmerism, sudden bursts of song and music, and so forth. Much of this file relates to this style of play. It should be mentioned that there may be problems with a long-term campaign in this genre; unless you favour a serial "Perils of Pauline" style, with new villainy threatening the Hero and Romantic Lead each adventure, any problem that initially confronts them will eventually be defeated. For this reason section 3.6 outlines a type of campaign in which the characters go from one role to another, as actors go from one role to another; even if characters are killed in one adventure, they will return in the next. Section 3.7 explores an extension of this idea, in which characters take on multiple roles in the same adventure.
If neither of these approaches appeal, characters in an otherwise "normal" campaign might be given reasons to act on stage; perhaps to unmask a spy or a murderer amongst the cast, or for some other purpose. In this case one or another of the scripts could be an excellent resource for the adventure.
One final point: racial stereotypes used in some of the source material might be considered offensive today, but would not have been unusual when it was written. The opinions and attitudes expressed are not those of the author.
In the rest of this document the following abbreviations are sometimes used to refer to these plays and stories:
[B] The Bells [V] The Vampire [F] Frankenstein [BFF] A Bid For Fortune [RAF] The Raffles Stories [BUB] A Bubble Burst
0.1 - Language And Units
The author of Forgotten Futures is British, as were the authors
featured in this collection. American readers will occasionally notice that
there are differences in spelling and use of language between our 'common'
tongues. If that worries you, you are welcome to run documents through a spell
checker, but please DON'T distribute modified versions.
The stories use Imperial measurements of length and power; feet and inches,
ounces and pounds, miles and horsepower. To retain their flavour these units
have mostly been used in the worldbook and adventures. Readers who are
unfamiliar with the British (and American) system of weights, or with
pre-decimal British currency, will find the awful details in Appendix A of
the rules.
0.2 - Role Playing Games
This collection is a source for game referees, and most sections contain
notes for their use. A few sections are written mainly for games. The
Forgotten Futures rules are included, but you are welcome to use the game of
your choice and add game statistics to fit its rules. No one will complain,
provided you don't distribute a modified version of these files, but if you
like the game setting and adventures please register.
The recommended time frame for a campaign based on the stories is the end
of the Victorian era, circa 1890-1900. Campaigns based on the melodramas could
be set much earlier.
Several other RPGs have presented rules or settings which are particularly
appropriate to this genre; GURPS Swashbucklers (Steve Jackson Games), Castle
Falkenstein (R. Talsorian Games), and Lace and Steel (Australian Games Group)
all favour a melodramatic style of play, while GURPS Goblins is a comic game
set in the heyday of melodrama, late Georgian Britain, and includes a scenario
with a theatrical background and short play. All of the superhero RPGs feature
larger-than-life heroes and villains; GURPS Supers and Champions (Hero Games)
are especially recommended.
0.3 - Weird Science And The Supernatural
Much of the fiction accompanying this collection involves the supernatural.
In Frankenstein we see creation of human life, possibly by scientific or
magical reanimation of the dead; the means are never spelled out in detail.
The Vampire shows an undead creature that must drink the blood of
virgins to survive; some of the details differ from the "conventional" vampire,
as seen in Dracula and other stories, but its supernatural origin is clear.
The Bells involves Mesmerism, the early name for hypnotism. Dr. Nikola,
the villain of A Bid For Fortune, is obviously a powerful magician and
mesmerist.
The Forgotten Futures rules do not include a magic system, but in all of
these cases the powers used are either "special effects" which do not affect
player characters directly, or can be seen as attacks on the MIND or SOUL of
their victims. This worldbook does not attempt to explain magic in more
concrete terms; it is simply a "given" in the background of some stories, and
should not normally be usable by player characters. See later sections for more
details.
Weird science is a common feature of melodramatic fiction. Many authors
described strange weapons and devices, absurdly complicated scientific death
traps, and other mechanisms. Unfortunately the stories in this collection are
largely gadget-free; the real heyday of the gadget story began in the 1920s,
and many of the most interesting stories from this period are still covered
by copyright.
0.4 - Omissions
For copyright reasons many entertaining stories could not be included. Readers
are especially referred to the tales of Fu Manchu (Sax Rohmer), and to the many
novels of Dornford Yates, Sapper and William Le Queaux.
0.5 - Technical notes
This document was mostly typed using Borland's Sprint word processor,
a DOS program so old that it would probably run on a Babbage engine if I owned
one. It was occasionally assisted by Windows Wordpad or Notepad. HTML was hand
coded, and tested using Internet Explorer 4, Opera, and Netscape Navigator Gold.
The stories and plays were scanned with an HP Scanjet 5P scanner, using
Caere Omnipage software for OCR and HP Paperport for graphics. PC Paintbrush,
Micrografyx Photomagic and Corel Paint were used for graphics editing and file
conversion.
0.6 - Acknowledgements
The "Forgotten Futures Theatre" cutout figures accompanying this collection
were suggested by several people, most recently Paolo Marino, and are in a format
originally developed by Steve Jackson Games for their "Cardboard Heroes" range, recently
reprinted. Many thanks to Steve Jackson for allowing me to base them on this format.
Debbie Gallagher kindly gave me permission to borrow ideas from her article
Getting The Laugh Right, in Valkyrie Issue 10; see section 3.3 below.
Some of the ideas in section 3.3 were suggested by
Peter Anspach's Evil Overlord List,
and are being used here with his permission. Peter invites you to stop by for
a look.
Another influence was Diana Wynne Jones' "The Tough Guide To Fantasyland"
(1996), whose style has in some ways rubbed off on this document.
I am immensely indebted to Mike Cule, a professional actor, who suggested
many of the ideas throughout this worldbook and gave me copies of the Shaw
review (above) and The Bells. Without his influence this would be shorter and
a lot less entertaining.
Finally, I have taken the liberty of quoting or paraphrasing earlier
Forgotten Futures material where it helps to clarify material in this
collection. Readers who are familiar with the game will hopefully forgive me.
1.0 - Glossary
Staging of Plays
The audience sees:
Exits and Entrances: Stage vocabulary:
General Vocabulary:
2.0 - The Game World
Melodrama flourished throughout the nineteenth century, but most of the
source material accompanying this collection was written in the latter half of the
century. Events important in this period include the Great Exhibition of 1851,
which showcased Britain's manufacturing capabilities, the final expansion of
the British Empire (which was only known by that name after the Indian Mutiny
of 1857-58, when the British government took over most of the functions of the
East India Company, and the Queen was crowned as Empress of India), its
consolidation under the Queen's rule, and the start of its fragmentation.
It's a time of rapid technological change, but society is slow to adapt.
Although social stratification is starting to crumble as the balance of power
moves from the aristocracy to the middle classes, few realise the extent of the
changes being made, and they won't be fully apparent until the twentieth
century. With steam replacing horse power and the sail, balloons and the first
primitive airships suggesting the future of aviation, and the telegraph and
telephone revolutionising communications, scientists and engineers see no
obvious limit to man's ingenuity.
Unfortunately the development of technology is bringing new problems which
threaten the stability of society. The Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71 was a
warning of things to come; both sides used railways to move troops and
supplies, telegraphed orders to their troops, issued their soldiers with
rifles, and used breech-loading rifled artillery. This war was more "advanced"
than the American Civil War a few years earlier, both sides having learned from
observers with the Union and Confederate forces, but ended quickly, with the
collapse of the French government, capitulation and huge payments to Germany.
This unfortunately preserved the illusion that wars could be won profitably,
and with acceptable losses on both sides, if they were sufficiently well armed.
The war led to the alliance of Prussia and the German states as the German
Empire, which quickly became a focus of Britain's military fears; The Battle
of Dorking (1871, Sir George T. Chesney), published as the war ended,
showed Britain virtually defenceless against a modern opponent, and was an
important influence on many aspects of military planning. An unintended
consequence was the abandonment of the first serious attempt to build a
Channel Tunnel, killed by a government defence committee in 1875; the
fortifications the committee insisted were needed to stop an invasion via the
tunnel would have added millions to its cost. Chesney also opened the
floodgates for melodramatic stories in this genre, and for stories describing
other disasters, natural and man-made, culminating in Wells' The War of the
Worlds in 1897. See Forgotten Futures V for more on the world of disaster
stories.
The war also speeded the expansion of Europe's armament industries. Krupp,
Nobel, and dozens of other companies came to prominence in this period, all of
them selling weapons to any governemnent that could afford them. Fiction of the
period often showed these companies stirring up trouble to boost their sales,
and there was probably some truth in the stories, although often exaggerated.
An obvious consequence was the use of dynamite in crime, also a staple of
melodramatic fiction. While British fiction usually showed the arms trade as a
foreign menace, it should be remembered that British companies were also
involved. It's also the period in which "secret weapons" and "secret treaties"
are first prominent in the news and in fiction, and melodramatic spy fiction
first becomes popular. These trends naturally led to an escalation of arms and
tension in Europe, laying the seeds of the Great War.
Another important influence at this time is the gradual discovery of the age
of the Earth and the size of the universe. Astronomy, geology, and
palaeontology developed new visions of the immensity of space and time, and
stories dealing with their discoveries became popular. Verne is the most
obvious early example of an author inspired by the new knowledge, but there
were many others. Darwin's publication of his theory of evolution in 1859,
expanded to cover mankind in 1871, was as important. Least accurate, but just
as influential, was the (mis)interpretation of Schiaparelli's 1877 sighting of
canali ("channels") on Mars; by this he meant natural valleys, but it was
widely misinterpreted as meaning artificial canals. In 1894 the American
astronomer Percival Lowell built a new telescope specifically to map them, and
a detailed (if wholly imaginary) picture of life on a dying alien world soon
evolved. This "evidence" of life in space was another powerful boost to
scientific romance, and later became a staple of melodramatic science fiction.
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The staging directions in the melodramas may be confusing to any readers
lacking experience of scripts. Briefly, all stage directions are given from
the viewpoint of a performer on the stage; left and right are thus the reverse
of what the audience sees. The following abbreviations are used for positions
on stage.
Right Left Opposite Prompt Prompt side
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|
Scenario Idea - Now Hear The Word of the Lord
Many discoveries lead to business opportunities; are there any possibilities in the "discovery" of intelligent life on Mars? The Reverend Jacob Witherspoon earnestly seeks funds to build a giant heliograph in the Sahara, to signal Mars and send the Gospel to the Martians; is he (and the project) genuine, or is it all a cunning plot to separate pious suckers from their money? |
At the beginning of the century Britain was primarily an agricultural nation, although starting to industrialise. By the end most of the economy was based on industry and trade. There was a railway boom, which led to a huge proliferation of lines and stations; every town and most villages acquired a railway station, obviously of vital importance for any traditional melodrama (there has to be a railway handy, or you have nowhere for the Villain to tie his victims). British locomotives were exported world-wide. Britain built the engines for most of America's early rail network, and provided machinery and engineering skills for railways in Russia, the Empire, and China, but this success came at a cost of pollution and widespread destruction of the countryside. Due to this loss of country land, the enclosure of former common land (which put many smallholders out of business), and a drift from agriculture to industry, Britain gradually became a net importer of food, and as early as 1870 cheap American wheat depressed British farm prices, resulting in calls for protectionism. By 1900 most of Britain would soon starve without imported food.
As a result of this industrial expansion, the nineteenth century saw the rise of the British middle class, from a small and relatively insignificant portion of the population to effective control of the country and government. British society had been rigidly structured by class; the established landowning nobility (renting land and other property to hundreds or thousands of tenants) at the top, followed by the "gentry"; recently-ennobled land-owning aristocrats, baronets, knights, squires, lords of the manor (an obsolete but still-used inherited title), and clergy. Below them came those who did not own land (or at least did not do so on any large scale); the upper ranks of the clergy, physicians (far superior to surgeons, who were little more than butchers), barristers, and other professionals. Below again were farmers and other untitled land-owners, then the lower classes. While this system seemed stable, problems were already appearing in 1800; industry and trade provided new routes to wealth, and it became possible for a "nobody" under the old system to acquire more land and tenants than any Duke. Gradually status became less stable, and more a matter of wealth, influence and appearance. If you had some sort of title, owned a coach and pair, talked like a gentleman, and employed a few servants, it was possible to gloss over humble origins; this wasn't going to make you an aristocrat, since you wouldn't have the right ancestry, but after a generation or two, if the taint of commerce wasn't too strong and your children went to the right schools and moved in the right circles their wealth might help them marry into suitable families. But the first step was to get a title, and with an expanding and increasingly wealthy middle class, and a political system that rewarded almost anyone who was prepared to donate money to party funds or make a conspicuous donation to charity, the lesser honours began to seem less exalted. By the end of the nineteenth century the non-hereditary titles, and some of the lesser hereditary peerages, were more an indication of wealth than of quality; while knighthoods were still awarded for bravery, it was more likely that they were "earned" by being mayor of a town during a royal visit, by donating money to party funds, for charitable work, for owning a newspaper supporting the government, or anything else that appealed to the ruling party. Despite these changes, most melodrama portrayed the aristocracy as they had been in the eighteenth century or earlier, and the old hierarchy of master and man.
Home life in this period is best described as cluttered, especially in the 1850s to 1880s. The Great Exhibition showcased British design and mass-produced furniture, and homes rapidly filled with these products, often more notable for gross over-ornamentation than real quality. Middle-class houses tended to be decorated with hundreds of small mass-produced ornaments and pictures, small ornamental tables and shelves, hanging baskets (in Kipling's Stalky and Co. a teacher is described contemptuously as a "basket-hanger"), huge plants, and elaborately embroidered fabrics, making it difficult to move without breaking something. The critic John Ruskin led a backlash calling for a return to simplicity and craftsmanship, but this call went largely unnoticed until the formation of the Arts and Craft Movement in 1888. Most middle-class homes employed servants; typically a maid (and possibly a cook-housekeeper) in less prosperous homes, with more servants a necessary ingredient of any show of wealth. In the latter half of the century domestic "conveniences" usually included indoor lavatories and piped cold water, but hot water was usually carried by hand, and wood and coal stoves were usually used for cooking. In the larger towns gas was the preferred form of lighting, but gas mantles, which gave a clear white light, were only invented in the 1890s; until then gas lighting tended to produce a flickering yellow flame little better than oil and candles. Electric illumination starting to appear in public buildings towards the end of the 1880s. Telephones arrived in Britain at about the same time, but were rare outside the largest businesses and a few wealthy homes. Outside the towns oil lamps and candles were the only lighting available, and the telephone was unknown. The railways apart, transport was mostly horse-drawn; bicycles were only just coming into fashion, and the first cars (automobiles) only appeared in the 1890s. To make up for it, there were efficient telegraph, postal, pneumatic tube, and messenger services; in London it was routine to send a letter and receive a reply before lunch.
Entertainment was often home-made, almost always live; the phonograph was still more of a curiosity than a serious rival to live music, and moving pictures didn't arrive until 1895. Most middle-class families owned musical instruments, with pianos and harmoniums very popular. Common hobbies included photography, various forms of collecting, handicrafts, and gardening. There were also many amateur scientists, especially naturalists and fossil-hunters. Another common interest was spiritualism; reports of psychic phenomena swept across America in the 1850s and soon reached Europe, and, almost uniquely, attained the status of a religion and an area of scientific study simultaneously. To an extent the fashion waned as some of the most prominent American and European mediums were unmasked as fakes, but organisations such as the Psychic Research Society and the Spiritualist Church were founded in this era and still exist today.
Fashions tend to extreme conservatism and multiple layers of clothing; with the death of Prince Albert in 1861 Queen Victoria went into mourning, and this sobered fashions even more. For men waistcoats and stiff collars were the norm, anything else was considered eccentric at best. For women heavy fabrics and floor-length skirts were obligatory, although some daring leaders of fashion ventured into slightly more revealing designs towards the end of the century. Children were mostly expected to dress in imitation of their parents.
The customs of the period place men firmly as the head of the family. Property was often entailed (passed on from generation to generation with the condition that it could not be sold), especially amongst the aristocracy, and usually passed along the male line. A wife's property almost always became the husband's, and divorce was extremely difficult; there is good reason to believe that this led to several murders. Most sexual matters were considered taboo; the trial of Oscar Wilde in 1897 was by far the most public discussion of male homosexuality of this period - female homosexuality wasn't even mentioned in British law, allegedly because Queen Victoria refused to believe that it could exist. Mental illness was another taboo subject.
Education (in reading, writing, and arithmetic) became very common in this period, even amongst the lower classes who were often aided by educational charities and scholarships. It was compulsory from 1870 onwards. This growth in literacy led to an insatiable demand for popular fiction, especially the most lurid and melodramatic forms.
The world of melodrama takes the world of the 19th century and portrays it
in the starkest shades of black and white. Good struggles with evil, and while
evil often seems to have the upper hand, an Englishman's word is his bond and
a stiff uppercut to the jaw beats any strange Oriental wrestling trick (unless,
of course, it's used by a true Hero). Baritsu (or to be more accurate, Bartitsu)
can be very useful here; it's a thoroughly British martial art (albeit based on
Ju Jitsu), Anglicised by a
This world consists of a series of stage sets, designed for maximum dramatic impact. The rest of the world might just as well not exist. There is rarely news of politics or current affairs, except for events that directly affect the story, although the Queen (God Bless Her) or King (Hip-Hip-Hurrah) might be the target of some Fiendish Plot, possibly instigated by agents of the Kaiser or some other foreign notable. There may also be occasional topical jokes. For these reasons the most important world leaders and events are listed in later sections.
Cities are dens of iniquity, where a poor match girl might be left to starve on the streets, children are abducted and sold to white slavers or Fagin-like master thieves, and any country maiden is likely to come to a sordid end. Foreign cities are worse; dens of vice where gambling is rife and visiting Britons are likely to be caught up in riots or kidnapped and held prisoner as part of some villainous scheme [BFF].
London is a special case, a British city large enough to have various foreign quarters. Whitechapel is haunted by Jews, Limehouse by Chinese and other orientals. To the prejudiced eye of a British Hero, the whole place is full of d**n foreigners. A few other ports, such as Liverpool, are similarly suspect.
The country is generally clean and pretty, with beautiful natural vistas around every corner, but sometimes sinister events are hidden beneath this surface beauty. The wild outdoors is also close at hand. For instance, it's possible to leave a prince's palace and within minutes become lost in a forest or reach the summit of a volcano [F]. Country mansions and castles are often located near the wilds; on cliffs overlooking the sea [V], in desolate mountains (most Hammer horror), or near swamps, bogs, and other unpleasant natural features (The Hound of the Baskervilles, Cold Comfort Farm). Even the most pleasant village can hide some sinister secret ([B], most of the Miss Marple stories), while isolated farms can conceal anything from incest and murder to mass graves and prison camps secretly set up by quasi-fascist organisations (The Black Gang - Sapper). Inns can also hide sinister secrets; isolated inns with murderous innkeepers and beds with built-in death traps were common in fiction of the period, especially in adventures with foreign settings.
Anywhere containing dangerous machinery is likely to be the lair, or under the control, of some Villain; various plays showed them using the equipment of sawmills, wind- and water-mills, foundries, boiler houses and railway switching yards as sinister death traps for Heroes and the Romantic Lead. The boiler rooms of ships are also very useful locations.
Transport usually seems to be fast, and has an uncanny knack of arriving with perfect timing; the hero may gallop a hundred miles on horseback, but he will invariably arrive after the heroine has been strapped to the conveyor belt, but before she reaches the saw blades. Unfortunately other forms of communication are almost always out of action, or controlled by Villains; for instance, in a late example, The Avenging Saint (Leslie Charteris 1930) all telephone and telegraph lines to an isolated village have been cut, and the only way to stop the Royal train in time to avert its destruction is to fly thirty or forty miles and jump from the aircraft to the roof of the train; the train stops less than a hundred yards from the bombs that would otherwise destroy it. It somehow never occurs to anyone to fly to the nearest village with a working telegraph office and send a warning from there...
Questions of time and distance should be glossed over if at all possible;
provided that the Hero is in the right place at the right time, does the exact
speed of the journey really matter? Unless some action is to take place during
a journey, it should be dismissed in a few words:
"Well, the journey from Vienna to London takes several days, and at
every stop you hope to receive a telegram telling you that Helen is safe. But
nothing comes...."
If the action does move aboard a vehicle, do it with style! Don't just take a train, take the Flying Scotsman or the Oriental Express. Better yet, take the action onto the roof of the train. No ocean voyage is complete without a storm, and a desperate death trap in the bilges or boiler room of a steam ship, or a fight to the death in the rigging of a sailing vessel. Balloons should be blown hundreds of miles off course or struck by lightning, coaches should lose wheels or run into highwaymen, horses should bolt. If automobiles are available they should crash or catch fire, or lose tyres at top speed. Planes encounter storms or crash - see The Horror of the Heights (FF III) for an unusual but extremely melodramatic alternative.
Turning to the social life of characters, status and rank are all-important; the tiniest difference in position can be a bar to romance or the springboard for an envy-driven plot. Although the "hero" is primarily driven by revenge, the film Kind Hearts and Coronets is largely a tale of rank, prestige, and privilege. Gascoigne D'Ascoigne rises from a nobody to a dukedom, incidentally killing most of his relatives along the way. His rank suddenly makes him an eligible bachelor, to the extent that two women compete for his affection. As late as the 1930s this was still considered a matter of great importance; in Dorothy L. Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey novels, Wimsey's sister is felt to have married "below her station" when she weds a police inspector, as is a school-teacher who marries a farm-hand. In melodramatic fiction, especially that of the 19th century, it is likely that the parents of anyone proposing such an unsuitable marriage would try to stop it, even if it meant confining her to a locked room.
The clothing of characters should of course be appropriate to their status. In melodrama no lord would dream of slopping around in old carpet slippers; Saville Row fashions are the norm, and any ceremony or special occasion is likely to see the use of ermine robes and coronets, with a strong possibility of their theft. Similarly, the poor will always dress appropriately to their status, in the peasant fashions described earlier, or in wretched rags if it seems more appropriate to the plot. Earlier FF collections have mentioned the importance of hats as a means of determining status and rank; briefly, no Englishman of the period would dream of going out in public without one, and to any expert eye the style and quality of this garment is an infallible indicator of rank. The same might be said of shoes, trousers, and other garments; clothing makes the man, and is often an indication of his character. Only a bounder wears patent leather boots with evening dress, only a gentleman would wear a cap garnished with fishing flies. Women, especially the proteges and mistresses of the rich, can be more deceptive, but the style and poise of the true aristocracy can rarely be imitated properly by their inferiors.
To summarise, the world of melodrama is our own world, especially the late Victorian and early Edwardian period, exaggerated and with contrasts emphasised, and obsessed with class and position. You are either good or bad, poor or rich, British or a d****d foreigner; the shades of grey in between are largely ignored. Your status is clearly defined, and rarely changes. There are sinister undercurrents everywhere, but nothing a Hero can't handle. Evil is close and personal; few Villains can resist a chance to confront a Hero, even when it might seem to be totally unnecessary, even if the Hero has little or nothing to do with the Villain's fiendish plot, and would remain totally unaware of it without the Villain's intervention. Appearances are everything, and are very often a good guide to character.
Given this artificial setting, the details that follow might seem a little unnecessary. But even in melodrama it's occasionally useful to refer to the outside world, go shopping, and otherwise add the odd touch of mundane reality. Never fear, these everyday touches are a useful contrast to the drama that characters will encounter at other times.
2.1 - Timeline, 1890-1914
2.2 - World Leaders 1890-1914
2.3 - Prices
Prices are shown in pounds, shillings and pence. Prices were reasonably stable
from 1890 to 1910; where this is not the case prices at the beginning and end
of the period are shown if known. If there is a wide range of prices throughout
the period the spread is indicated by a hyphen. Unusually cheap or expensive
products have not been included in the ranges shown. Examples: 3.0 - Characters
There are several stereotyped roles in a melodramatic thriller; most typical
are the Hero, the Romantic Lead, and the Villain. Note the use of capitals! In
an RPG the Hero is usually a player character, the Villain is typically an NPC,
and the Romantic Lead may be run as either but is most often an NPC. All other
characters (including the other player characters) are there to reflect the
personalities of the main characters, or to fulfil the needs of the plot; to
lend the main characters money or aid, to carry out their instructions or get
in the way, and (occasionally) to die horribly. After these dominant figures,
the most common character types are henchmen (serving the Villain, less often
the Hero), trusty servants (for the Hero or Romantic Lead) who often act as
alcoholic or cowardly comic relief, friends of the Hero or Romantic Lead, and
the Romantic Lead's siblings and/or parents (often destined to be turned out
of their home and into the snow if she doesn't succumb to the Villain's
demands).
For example, in the novel Dracula (written by Bram Stoker, an actor and
theatrical director, and probably heavily influenced by The Vampire) the
Villain is Dracula himself, the Hero is Jonathan Harker, and the Romantic Lead
is Mina Harker. Everyone else in the story is a henchman (Renfield and various
vampires, gypsies and wolves), friend (John Seward, Van Helsing, Quincy Morris,
etc.), or relative (Lucy), and usually comes to a sticky end.
Most melodramatic fiction continues this tradition; there is usually a
principal Villain, with a few subsidiary henchmen (henchwomen, henchpersons),
a Romantic Lead (who is often held prisoner or under threat by the Villain),
and a Hero of epic proportions. This isn't just a Victorian convention; it
continues in many of today's thrillers, and several of the examples that follow
were written in the 20th century.
Naturally there are variants; most notably, stories in which a Heroine takes
the dynamic role normally allocated to the Hero, an apparent Romantic Lead is actually
a Villainess, a Hero has tragic flaws (Frankenstein and A.J. Raffles are
obvious examples) and should best be regarded as an Antihero, or an apparent
henchman or servant is actually the Hero or Villain. An extreme case is
Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, in which the Hero and Villain occupy the
same body. For examples of two variants see The Ganymedan Menace (FF II) and
Folly of the Wise (FF IV).
If players are able to work within these conventions, it can be a lot of fun for one
of the players to be the Villain, possibly aided by some of the players as Henchmen. They'll
probably die horribly, but they'll get the best lines. For large groups of players a Hero
team and a Villain team can work well, with the referee acting as intermediary and throwing
in occasional surprises.
Since the melodramatic approach favours one-off adventures rather than prolonged
campaigns, section 3.6 describes a style of play in which continuing characters take
on new roles for each adventure; the character can even earn Bonus points for a spectacular
death! Section 3.7 extends this idea further, for adventures in which characters take on
multiple roles.
Note that melodrama differentiates the roles and capabilities of the sexes
in many ways; while either sex may conceivably take on any of the three
principal roles, their abilities and limitations will differ. This may seem
very sexist, but is true to the genre. Note, too, that characters are unusually
two-dimensional in this genre, one reason why the cardboard figures are provided.
3.1 - Heroes and Heroines
Generate Heroes on 25 points, with BODY of at least 4 (3 for Heroines),
but give the character 10 extra Bonus Points after generation is complete.
These points may NOT be used to purchase skills - they must be used in play,
to improve skill rolls and/or luck. Heroes are always competent, and may
improve rolls even if they are attempting to use a skill they do not actually
possess.
Heroes have several limitations and advantages; if Heroines differ, the
modified data is in square brackets [like this] at the end of paragraphs.
Heroes should also adopt one or more of the following traits: See the novels King And Joker and Skeleton In Waiting, by Peter
Dickenson, for two entertaining twists on this idea. What's going on here? Is it a cunning plan to take the Hero's place and put
him out of the way while some hideous crime is committed, or is the "Hero"
actually a demented impostor who really has stolen the luggage and doesn't
know he's a fake. Could both of them be wrong... or right?
This works best if the Hero is travelling alone; any other players need
to take on roles which don't involve knowledge of the truth.
A word of caution; it's claimed that TV series use the amnesia gimmick
whenever they can't think of a real plot, and it is certainly one of the cliches
of serial fiction, giving the author an opportunity to rehash previous events.
Use this gimmick with great caution, repeated amnesiac episodes soon
become desperately dull.
In any melodramatic campaign the Hero should be the focus of the adventuring
group. This does not mean that the other characters are unimportant; it simply
means that NPCs and the focus of the plot will always tend to concentrate upon
the Hero, often to a ridiculous extent. For example, a villain may order
eighteen thugs to attack the Hero, while trying to cover four other
adventurers with a single-shot pistol. The adventurers may possibly find ways
to take advantage of the situation.
Under exceptional circumstances there may be more than one Hero in an
adventure; if so, they will almost always be rivals in love. This should not
stop them cooperating to defeat the Villain, but they should always try to
out-perform each other when the Romantic Lead is around.
Optionally, referees might prepare a theme tune for Heroes, to be played
whenever they go into action. Try especially various Gilbert & Sullivan themes,
and Sousa marches such as Liberty Bell (the Monty Python theme) and Hail To
The Spirit of Liberty (the Doc Savage theme). Many other tunes are appropriate;
for example, in a Royal Shakespeare Company version of Gillette's Sherlock
Holmes, the great detective first appeared playing the James Bond theme as a
slow violin piece. Trailers for the BBC's recent Scarlet Pimpernel series
used a version of a more recent James Bond theme.
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1909-1934 - Albert
1908-1912 - Hsuan-T'ung
1912-1912 - Sun Yat-Sen (President)
1912-1916 - Yuan Shih-k'ai
1906-1912 - Frederick VIII
1912-1947 - Christian X
1894-1899 - Francois Faure
1899-1906 - Emile Loubet
1906-1913 - Armand Fallières
1913-1920 - Raymond Poincaré
1913-1917 - Constantine I
1900-1946 - Victor-Emanuel III
1912-1926 - Taisho
1905-1912 - William
1912-1919 - Marie-Adelaide
1903-1914 - Pius X
1908-1910 - Manuel II (deposed; Portugal became a republic)
1910-1911 - Teofilo Braga (president)
1911-1915 - Manuel Jose de Arriaga
1894-1917 - Nicholas II
1901-1910 - Edward VII
1910-1936 - George V
1892-1894 - William Ewart Gladstone (Lib.)
1894-1895 - Earl of Rosebery (Lib.)
1895-1902 - Marquess of Salisbury (Con.)
1902-1905 - Arthur James Balfour (Con.)
1905-1908 - Henry Campbell-Bannerman (Lib.)
1908-1915 - Herbert Henry Asquith (Lib.)
1893-1897 - Grover Cleveland (Dem.)
1897-1901 - William McKinley (Rep.)
1901-1909 - Theodore Roosevelt (Rep)
1909-1913 - William Howard Taft (Rep.)
1913-1921 - Woodrow Wilson (Dem.)
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£3 6s 2d is three pounds, six shillings, and tuppence.
2s 6d is two shillings and six pence
3½d is threepence ha'penny
3d rising to 7d indicates a price rise from 3d to 7d
5s - 8s indicates a stable range of prices from 5s to 8s
Clothing, Female
Blouse, silk £1 5s 11d Camisole 3s
Chemise 7s Combinations 5s 6d
Knickers 2s 6d Nightdress 6s
Long skirt 10s Stockings 2s 6d
Boots 7s Walking shoes 12s - £1 8s
Clothing, Male
Suit £1 8s Trousers 7s 6d
Undervest 4s Overcoat £2
Gloves, calf 2s 8d Handkerchiefs, 12 8s
Hat, soft felt 7s 6d Hat case 15s
Linen collars, 12 6s 5d Cuffs, pair 1s
Shirt front 10d Boots 11s
Heavy nailed boots 19s Walking shoes 14s
Food & Drink
Bacon, lb 7d Bananas, each 1d
Beef, leg 10d Biscuits, 1 lb 6d
Bovril, 4 oz 1s 7d Bread, 4lb loaf 5d
Butter, lb 1s 2d Cake, lb 8d
Cheese, lb 10d Chocolates, lb 1s 3d
Cocoa, lb 2s 6d Cod, lb 3d
Coffee beans, lb 10d Eggs, 12 11d
Flour, 7lb 10d Haddock, 12 7d
Halibut, lb 7d Herrings, 6 4d
Hams, York, per lb 1s 6d Ice cream, quart 3s 6d
Milk, pint 1½d Mutton / lamb, leg 10d
Orange 1d Oysters, 12 3s 6d *
* restaurant price
Pork, leg 8d Potatoes, stone 7d
Sardines, 18oz 7d Sugar, lb 2d
Tea, lb 2s 5d
Alcoholic drinks, per bottle
Creme de Menthe 4s 6d
Champagne 5s rising to 8s 2d *
Claret 11d rising to 4s 2d *
Brandy 4s 7d Gin 2s 2d
Ginger wine 1s * Port 3s *
Rum 3s 7d Sherry 3s 6d *
Whisky 3s 5d * based on price per dozen
Alcoholic drinks, per pint
Beer 1d Porter 1s
Stout 1s 5d
Tobacco Products
Cigarettes, 20 5d Tobacco, oz. 5d
Miscellaneous
Postage, letter 1d Telegram, 12 words 6d
per extra word ½d
The Times 3d Daily Mail ½d
Book, novel 3s - 7s Book, textbook 18s
Alarm clock 4s 6d Watch, steel cased £3 15s
Cufflinks, gold 18s Fountain pen 10s 6d
Soap, 3lb bar 7d Spectacles, gold 18s
Spectacles, steel 2s 6d Camera, Kodak roll £1
Camera, half plate £8 7s 6d Cricket bat 12s 11d
Golf clubs (each) 6s Golf balls, 12 10s
Violin £2 10s
Transport
Train, 150 miles 15s Omnibus, per mile 1d
Underground railway 2d - any distance
Bicycle £10 Family car, 8 hp £200
Harness, goat cart £2 Roller skates 7s
Housing
2-bedroom house £300 2-bedroom cottage £190
4-bedroom house £650
Rents, per week, working class:
House 7s 1-room tenement 3s 2d
2-room tenement 4s 7d 3-room tenement 6s
Wages
Labourer, wk 18s - £1 2s rising to £2
Skilled, wk. £1 18s
Clerk, wk. £1 rising to £1 10s
Miner, per wk. 15s rising to £1 15s
Salaries, per year:
Butler £100 Footman £50
Cook / housekeeper £80 Governess £75
Head housemaid £30 Nanny £40
Income tax 3.5% rising to 5.5%
Household
Double bed £2 15s - includes mattress
Blankets, pair dbl. 6s Double quilt £1 10s
Sheets, pair dbl. 6s Dining table £8 10s
Chairs 7s 6d Oil fired stove £2 2s 6d
Piano, Bechstein £210 Piano, upright £105
Electricity, unit 6d Gas, 1000 cu. ft. 4s
Coal, ton 18s Candles, lb 10d
Matches, 12 boxes 8d - Non-safety before 1900
Water filter 1 gln. 13s 6d, refills 9½d
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He came down the gangway... ...with a light step in the summer
sunlight, with a soft grey hat canted rakishly over one eye, and a raincoat
slung carelessly over his shoulder. There was death in his pocket, and peril
of an even deadlier kind under his arm...
First, some examples:
Leslie Charteris: The Simon Templar Foundation
Note that not all of these examples are faithful to all of the stereotypes below.
Scenario Idea - Skeleton In The Closet
An enterprising reporter has learned of the Hero's origin, and wants to expose
the story to the full gaze of the public. Of course this would ruin the lives of
everyone involved, but that's nothing to an unscrupulous journalist with a
major scandal on his hands...
Scenario Idea - Who Did You Say?
The Hero arrives in a foreign city, whose natives don't know him, on routine
business. As he leaves the station he discovers that his papers have been
stolen; when he reaches his hotel an impostor is already in the manager's office,
accompanied by three policemen, and claims that the Hero has stolen his luggage,
and must be planning some fraud. The impostor looks very like the Hero, and is
carrying the papers and other (forged) documents. He has answers for any
question that might be used to unmask him; he can even describe the contents of
the luggage!
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Scenario Idea - Facing The Music
As the adventurers (and especially the Hero) go about their business they gradually become aware that they are hearing amazingly appropriate music at unusually tense or exciting moments. It seems to be pure chance - there is always a phonograph, music box, player piano, street musician or brass band around at these crucial moments - but it always happens. Mention it occasionally; for example, when the adventurers are sneaking up on the Villain, comment on the fact that his henchmen seem to be distracted by a brass band in the street outside. Encourage the players to use the music as a hint of trouble ahead, and treat it as a running gag. Soon they will probably take it for granted. One day, preferably when they have done something less noble and heroic than usual, the music stops... and the adventurers' luck seems to go with it. Their plans start to fail more often, opponents are tougher and harder to surprise. Don't explain, don't give the players any way to find out what's going on. Continue the silence until the adventurers succeed in some unusually daring or noble feat - then start the music again. Never explain. Obviously this works best in a campaign with weird elements; but some excellent melodramatic fiction has self-referential jokes along these lines. |
3.1.1 - Anti-Heroes
Anti-Heroes are less common than Heroes or Villains, but may be an interesting
alternative to both. They commit crimes but do it in the style of a Hero. The most
heroic Anti-Heroes would never build a death trap, or plot the destruction of
Britain, but might target those who do such things, even if it means going well
outside the law. Less scrupulous Anti-Heroes are more interested in profit, or
set up as judge, jury and executioner of those they regard as undesirables, which
in many cases includes cabinet ministers (The Four Just Men - Edgar Wallace),
plutocrats (The Assassination Bureau Ltd. - Jack London), or royalty
(The Angel of the Revolution - George Griffith).
Where a hero might see a feud developing and try to defuse the situation, an
Anti-Hero would try to make things worst and take advantage of the situation
(A Fistful of Dollars) to earn more money or eliminate its participants.
For various reasons several characters who might be counted as Anti-Heroes
have instead been listed as Heroes in the previous section. The Saint is the
most obvious; he is listed as a Hero because most of his crimes targeted far
nastier criminals, he never hurt the innocent, and he usually gave a share of
his profits to charity. More typical examples include: Generate Anti-Heroes as Heroes. Most of the same limitations and advantages
apply, but chivalrous conduct is less common; Anti-Heroes MAY strike the
first blow, fire the first shot, etc., sometimes harm women, and often choose
to use extremely powerful weapons. They can lie to their heart's content, and
won't hesitate to cheat or steal, or even murder to further their schemes. They are often cads;
female Anti-Heroes also have interesting love lives. While British
Anti-Heroes may share the usual prejudices about foreigners, it is NOT mandatory.
Some may instead have wily foreign accomplices.
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My blood froze. My heart sickened. My brain whirled. How I
had liked this villain! How I had admired him! How my liking and
admiration must turn to loathing and disgust. I waited for the
change. I longed to feel it in my heart. But -- I longed and I waited
in vain!
The Ides of March - E.W. Hornung
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Scenario Idea - A Message From Home
An adventurer's wily foreign accomplice (WFA) receives an urgent telegram from his (foreign) home; his sister has been kidnapped by members of a rival tribe (or Tong, clan, Mafia family, whatever is appropriate) and is being held for an exorbitant ransom; they have been given a few days to find the money. Naturally his family doesn't have the money, even the adventurer would have trouble finding that much. In any case the WFA believes that his sister will be murdered if the ransom is paid; only the hope of getting the money is preventing it. If the WFA takes the first ship / train / whatever he should get home a day or two before the deadline; this might give him a slim chance of rescuing his sister, since he knows roughly where her captors are based. If not he plans to avenge her. Is the adventurer going to stay out of this? If not, will the WFA ever return, and can the adventurer manage without him? And is there any possibility of profiting from the situation...? This is a good way to get the adventurer into action on unfamiliar ground, and with time pressures and extreme penalties for failure. |
Anti-Heroes can adopt most of the same traits as heroes; they are often illegitimate, often wealthy, frequently disguised, and sometimes rich. They can be swashbuckling, but sneakiness is often more useful. Impersonations and disguises are common; A.J. Raffles committed his first crime while impersonating a bank manager [RAF], and spent much of his later career posing as an elderly invalid, while The Saint posed as Sebastian Tombs so often that he had to open a bank account under that name. They are very rarely amnesiac. They are often doomed, or take on missions that are certain to result in their death (The Assassination Bureau Ltd.). Three additional traits are common amongst Anti-Heroes:
See Villains, below, for traits that may be appropriate to some Anti-Heroes.
It may seem that there is no down-side to being an Anti-Hero, but referees should try to ensure that there are disadvantages. Anti-Heroes are rarely trusted, and are usually disliked by both sides of the law. Raffles spent most of his career on the run from the police, but was also targeted by various criminals. They should encounter violence at least as often as heroes, and can't call on the police and other authorities for help.
Anti-Heroes are rarely a good choice for players if there will be several other characters in a game, but work well if there are only one or two other players. Remember that Anti-Heroes often work alone, or at cross purposes to other players, and that it may be necessary to develop separate plot strands for them.
Any theme tune for an Anti-Hero should emphasise these qualities; lonely saxophone or double-bass themes are good, strident marches or anthems should be avoided.
3.2 - Romantic Leads
"Oh, no! my father; the enthusiasm of knowledge, the applauses of the
powerful, may for a time, have weaned him from us but my own kind, gentle,
Frankenstein, can never be inhuman."
Examples: Romantic Leads are built on 18 points with no special requirements.
They are best run as NPCs, since players may find the role somewhat limiting.
Male characters cannot easily take on the attributes of a Romantic Lead, but
male NPCs may take a similar role in adventures with a Heroine; naturally
comments related to attractiveness etc. are reversed.
Most Romantic Leads have four special attributes: There are some exceptions to these general rules, with some Romantic Leads
showing moderate to high levels of competence. Patricia Holme, a character in
many of Leslie Charteris' Saint stories, is a good example. Another is Patricia
Savage, cousin of Doc Savage.
Additionally, all Romantic Leads may have one or more of the following
problems [all available, with suitable modifications, for male
characters]: Is the admirer simply obsessed with the Romantic Lead, or is there some other
reason for the interest in her movements? Could there be some other
motive for the surveillance, with romance just a clever cover? It's up to you
to decide.
If the Romantic Lead is an NPC, an interesting plot twist might have the
"musicians" turn out to be disguised detectives, on the trail of a ruthless
murderess. Possibly it's the Romantic Lead, actually a Femme Fatale, possibly
a case of mistaken identity.
Naturally she has no proof of her allegations, and (since it is supposedly a
secluded order) it is almost impossible to gain access to the convent to
investigate.
This works best if the Romantic Lead is an NPC and there is some reason to
doubt her word; for example, the adventurers might be visited by an eminent
alienist (psychologist) who claims that she was confined to the convent for
her own good, and to protect her family from her irrational violence. It might
even be true... See The Woman In White by Wilkie Collins for an example
of a similar situation. See the Scenario Idea Skeleton In The Closet, in section 3.1 above.
Romantic Leads should also have a theme tune; regardless of the instrument,
it must be played romantically. Violin and piano pieces are appropriate; there
should be sad overtones.
3.3 - Villains
"...Presently, when all is complete I shall press the lever, the
machinery will be set in motion, and you will find yourself being slowly and
surely ground into powder. Then you will hand over what I want, and be sorry
you ever thought to baulk Dr. Nikola!"
"There are foolish criminals who are discovered, and wise criminals
who escape. The hiding of a crime, or the detection of a crime, what is it? A
trial of skill between the police on one side, and the individual on the other.
When the criminal is a brutal, ignorant fool, the police, in nine cases out of
ten, win. When the criminal is a resolute, educated, highly-educated man, the
police, in nine cases out of ten, lose."
The world is full of villains. A few obvious examples include It's important to distinguish between mere thugs, everyday petty Villains such as
crooked lawyers or murderous husbands, and the Masters of Villainy
found in the most far-fetched melodrama. Petty Villains may suffer pangs of
conscience, or have incompetent hirelings; they may kill someone with their
fists, or break into a shop to steal a few pounds. Masters of Villainy rarely
have a conscience, and since their henchmen can make mincemeat of most
opponents, seldom need to get their own hands dirty. If they need cash, they'll
break into the Bank of England and steal a few million.
This section largely deals with the more extreme forms of evil, with an
occasional nod towards petty Villains. Thugs are usually the henchmen and
hirelings of Masters of Villainy.
Villains are usually run by the referee, and there may be problems if they
are run by players; most notably, it is rarely possible to run the same Villain
for more than one adventure. If generated by players, start off with 28 points,
but no Bonus Points may be kept back, and MIND must be at least 4. Up to 4 points
may be added to skills, not the usual 3. Players running Villains should remember
that in most melodramatic plots they are probably fated to lose.
Petty Villains are generated on 21 points, with no special rules.
Most Villains need henchmen. Player-run Villains must find and recruit
their own underlings, always running the risk that they may inadvertently take
on a disguised Hero, an incompetent, an informer, or someone who aspires to
Villainhood over the adventurer's dead body. No rules are provided for this
recruitment process, since it should occur in play. For example, a Villain
hoping to recruit some Henchmen might encourage petty thieves to attempt to
pick his pocket, catch them in the act, and "persuade" them to take him to
meet more competent members of the profession. Once one or two competent
Henchmen have been recruited, the Villain may leave them to carry on finding
additional personnel. Optionally a character may be assumed to have gone
through this process before play begins. The quality of recruits should be
related to the rewards offered; for instance, in a Victorian campaign ten
shillings a week will hire an average thug, a thousand a year and a chance of
participating in the subjugation of Britain should attract someone exceptional -
but there will be several unsuitable applicants, who must be eliminated (with
extreme prejudice if necessary) before a final choice is made. Common flaws in
the best Henchmen may include impulsiveness, sadism, too much ambition, greed,
the faint stirrings of a conscience, lecherousness, and a desire to take on the
Hero on his own terms, rather than using the Villain's elaborate methods. Some
flawed Henchmen may even think it's a good idea to shoot the Hero instantly,
rather than messing around with traps and alligators. Naturally any self-respecting
Villain will soon get rid of such riff-raff.
A typical NPC Villain has one or more highly competent Henchmen (e.g. Oddjob,
Colonel Sebastian Moran) who act as his Lieutenants, several competent
underlings, and a pool of lesser personnel appropriate to the needs of the
scenario. For example, a Villain planning a massive forgery operation would
recruit forgers, chemists, and printers to prepare plates and inks and print
the money, and would need a distribution network to handle it once printed,
plus a few "minders" to ensure that nothing goes astray. For a protection
racket violence is probably the most important qualification, and most of the
personnel will be thugs of various degrees of sophistication, but there might
also be a place for skilled technicians such as arsonists and locksmiths. A
petty Villain will have a few thugs or servants available; usually they are no
real threat to a determined Hero.
As a rough guide, give NPC Villains a pool of personnel built on around
150-200 points (30 points for petty Villains); give players around 50 points
in their first round of recruitment, adding more as they expand their evil
empires. For example, Professor Moriarty's gang might include
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"Oh, it did me good to see the way that these brave men worked.
How can women help loving men when they are so earnest, so true, and so brave!
And, too, it made me think of the wonderful power of money!"
Bram Stoker: Dracula
Frankenstein (1826 play)
Example: in dim light, and in a moment of stupidity, one of the adventurers
fires a shot at the Romantic Lead, mistaking her for a thug. The bullet glances
off one of the whalebone struts of her corset, leaving her alive but winded
and badly bruised.
[Male romantic leads don't have this advantage; their
death often motivates the plot!]
Scenario Idea - Facing The Music II
An unknown admirer is pestering the Romantic Lead with flowers, gifts - and
musicians. Whenever she leaves her house she is accosted by street violinists
who have been hired to follow her and play romantic music (her theme); they
have been paid to keep silent about the identity of the person who hired them,
or possibly are frightened to say anything, Sooner or later, she is sure, the
instigator of this strange harassment will announce himself and expect to sweep
her off her feet. Unfortunately there are signs that the violinists aren't just
following her to serenade her; when accosted by the Romantic Lead or her friends,
one of them drops a notebook which lists her movements over the last several days...
Scenario Idea - Brides of ???
The Romantic Lead has done more than contemplate a religious life; she has
joined a convent, only to discover that there is something very
odd about the religion being practised there. She has gone over the wall and is
looking for help, but there seem to be some very strange people taking an
interest in her activities.
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"...He has had reason to know that I am pitting my wits against
his, and he flatters himself that so far he has got the better of me. That is
because I am drawing him on. I am maturing a plan that will make him a poor
and a very miserable man at one and the same time..."
A Bid for Fortune [Guy Boothby 1895]
ibid; later in the same speech
The Woman In White [Wilkie Collins 1860]
Plus various beggars etc. on 1-2 points, with low characteristics and no
skills, acting as informants, look-outs, etc. Note that all of these personnel
will want paying, and must be monitored for loose lips, ambition, treachery,
replacement by disguised Heroes, etc. The larger the gang, the less
controllable it becomes. While Moriarty's organisation was never described in
much detail by Doyle, several books by later authors have gone into it in depth;
see especially the "Moriarty" novels by John Gardner, and Michael Kurland's "The
Infernal Device" and sequels.
|
The Black Hand is an organisation that often appears in melodrama of this
period; it's an exaggerated precursor of the Mafia, generally described as employing
most of the Italians in Britain. Ice cream sellers, street musicians, waiters,
even Italian Counts may belong to the sinister gang, and their ruthlessness and
codes of silence and vendetta make them formidable enemies. Raffles takes on the Black Hand in
two of the later stories; The Fate of Faustina and The Last Laugh. Count Fosco
(in The Woman In White) is obviously a renegade member of this gang, and is ultimately
killed by his former associates.
Advantages of the Black Hand include its ubiquitous nature - any Italian is potentially a member, and its influence may stretch much wider - and the fact that it is a larger organisation than any one Villain could realistically control. It is thus possible for a Villain to be defeated, but turn out to belong to the Black Hand, leaving the adventurers hunted by a large ruthless organisation. On the downside, the Black Hand is very much a cliche of the genre, and may be expected by players who are familiar with melodrama. They may start to assume that all Italians are automatically suspect, and responsible for every crime, ignoring clues that point in other directions. There are also unpleasant racist overtones to this organisation's use in the genre. Alternatives to the Black Hand include the Sai Fan (Doctor Fu Manchu's organisation, similarly employing most Chinese in Europe), Anarchists (see FF V for more on this "organisation"), agencies of the Tsar and Kaiser, and sprawling "international arms cartels" (often presented as run by Jews) prepared to sell any weapon to the highest bidder. All have similar uses and disadvantages. |
While organisations are useful, they are not compulsory. For instance, in The Woman In White Count Fosco is called in as a "Consulting Villain", to help organise Sir Percival Glide's persecution of Laura Fairlie and secure her £20,000 inheritance, hiring local help as needed rather than setting up an elaborate organisation.
Obviously the needs of a particular adventure may change things considerably; a Villain might act alone, or have the resources of an army or a nation under his control. Sometimes one or more underlings will have some special ability or skill (such as psychic powers) needed for the particular crime in progress. Various criminal organisations described in the Modesty Blaise novels by Peter O'Donnell are excellent examples for the referee; Modesty Blaise and I, Lucifer are particularly recommended, the latter offering an imaginative Villainous use for psychic powers.
Villains have several special limitations and abilities:
How does a Villain change a lightbulb? Kidnap the Romantic Lead's father and persuade her to sign over the deeds to his light-bulb factory, fake scientific evidence to prove that all other makes of light bulb emit dangerous N-Rays, corner the market with a "new, improved, N-Ray free filament", and use the profits to fund a South American revolution. Use the power base in South America to acquire the resources needed to build a citadel in the Antarctic, and put a new light-bulb in the citadel. Kill the father, plant a penguin feather in the cuff of his trousers, and dump his body where the Hero will find it. Tie the Romantic Lead to a chair under the light-bulb in the citadel, surround her with cunning booby-traps, and wait for the Hero to arrive. When the Hero has been destroyed by the booby-traps twirl your moustache, take the Romantic Lead and light-bulb home, force the former into marriage (she'll thank you for it in the end) and the latter into its holder. It's an old trick, but it might just work...
A petty Villain would omit the South American phase and put the lightbulb in a sawmill in the country, strap the Romantic Lead to a conveyor belt under it, and have a few thugs waiting to bludgeon the Hero and throw him on the belt when he arrives. A thug would get some henchmen and attempt to kick the Hero to death without bothering about the light bulb, then steal one afterwards.
If the Villain is an adventurer, referees should feel free to object to any plan that doesn't seem to be complex enough. If it doesn't take several minutes to explain it isn't complex enough! NPC Villains should usually develop plans that are much more complex, but occasionally produce a plot that's fiendishly simple when adventurers are expecting complexity.
|
Scenario Idea - Now Here's My Plan...
The adventurers are recruiting henchmen for an NPC villain. He has given them a peculiar list of skills to find; some examples might include a locksman who speaks fluent Yiddish, a legless beggar who is a crack shot, a dog trainer, a street musician who knows how to work a camera, and a telegraph operator who can send at least 50 words per minute. Another team is set to work finding equipment; for example, a dozen barrels of beer, two cylinders of laughing gas, a sailing barge, maps of the London sewers, and a Congreve line-carrying rocket with line and grapnels. While the adventurers are putting this team together the Villain is killed, accidentally run down by a runaway Hanson cab. His diary indicates that he intended to steal the Crown Jewels, but says nothing about how he planned to do it. The adventurers also find that there is little money left, and the rest of the gang seem to be looking to them for leadership. Can they possibly work out the details of the robbery, and pull it off? Note: The personnel and equipment outlined above are simply examples, as is the target of the crime. Referees are advised to pick a target, work out a plan (with the equipment and personnel needed to pull it off), then give the adventurers the list without any clues to the plan. Optionally add at least one red herring to the equipment list, something that will be difficult to find, dangerous to use, and is irrelevant to the original plan. |
If a Villain cannot explain his plan (because any explanation would make it impossible to carry out, as in The Vampire), he will explain it in Asides (see the glossary above, and section 3.5 below) or to his own underlings.
With the exception above Villains NEVER carry out the final step of their fiendish plan until it has been explained to the Hero. This may involve a delay of two or three days until the Hero actually arrives or has been captured! Even if the plan can't be explained, the Hero must be present for the final act.
All of these conventions may be broken at the referee's whim:
"... Do you seriously think I'd explain my master-stroke if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its outcome?"
"I did it thirty-five minutes ago."
The Watchmen (Alan Moore 1987)
A well-rounded Villain should also have at least one of the following motives; some are not suitable for petty Villains or Villains run as adventurers:
|
Scenario Idea - Skeleton In The Closet II
An enterprising reporter has learned of the Villain's origin, and wants to expose the story to the full gaze of the public. Of course this would ruin the lives of everyone involved, but that's nothing to an unscrupulous journalist with a major scandal on his hands. Naturally, the Villain has other ideas; he's earning a comfortable living blackmailing his family, and doesn't want to ruin them until he's ready to take the maximum possible advantage of the situation. That won't be for several months, meanwhile the reporter is threatening to rock the boat. Some means of... discouraging him must be found, but unfortunately he seems to have taken the precaution of leaving copies of various papers with an unknown lawyer. The adventurers are the Villain and his henchmen, and must find a way to silence the reporter or discredit him. |
Note: Insanity may, very rarely, be usable as a motive for heroes. See especially Rorschach (The Watchmen) and some analyses of Batman's behaviour.
Villains should also have one or more distinguishing characteristics:
For instance, an assassin might choose the theme of the old song, The Twelve Days of Christmas. He murders a Mr. Partridge and leave his body in a pear tree on the first day of Christmas, kills famous vaudeville stars the Yodelling Bird Twins on the second, and so forth. Only one set of victims, the Gold family (poisoned with strychnine, their bodies found bent into hoops by their convulsions on the fifth day), are important to the scheme; the Villain will inherit their vast fortune. Naturally he must go on to complete the pattern to cover his tracks, giving opportunities to stop him at the House of Lords, a dairy, and so forth.
Examples include The A.B.C. Murders (Agatha Christie), The Abominable Doctor Phibes and sequels, and episodes of The Avengers and New Avengers.
Immortality is another popular choice; the Villain can apparently be killed, but always comes back to seek revenge. Even the destruction of his body may not be enough to prevent this. Lord Ruthven is again an example, another is the cinematic version of Ming The Merciless.
Rare NPC Villains may be in league with the Devil, or may actually be the Devil incarnate, and control extraordinary magical abilities. If this occurs there must always be a loophole, a way to turn these powers against the forces of darkness, which should be telegraphed to the adventurers well in advance of the final conflict. The trick may be as simple as using a mirror to reflect the evil forces back at their source, or as difficult as stealing and destroying an amulet containing the Villain's soul. Forgotten Futures does not include extensive magical rules, but in any case these powers can largely be seen as special effects affecting NPCs or the scenery, or as attacks on one or another characteristic, as described above.
Petty villains very rarely have uncanny powers.
|
Scenario Idea - Who Steals My Purse
The Villain encounters an unforeseen problem; one of the banks he uses collapses, gutted by directors who have engineered a massive fraud. The Police are baffled; the paper trail is so complex, and so many documents have been destroyed, that it seems to be impossible to find out where the money has gone. The Villain has lost a sizeable amount of money, and there is an even more urgent problem; all of the bank's assets, including the contents of its safe deposit vault, are slowly being searched by the police, looking for clues to the fraud. The Villain has hidden some vital evidence in one of the boxes, and it's only a matter of time before the police open it. In the short term, the contents of the box must be retrieved; looting the entire vault would be a good (and extremely profitable) cover. In the long term, various Henchmen are already whispering that the Villain might be losing his touch; surely he should have realised that the bank was shaky. To keep their respect it's essential that the directors must be caught and punished in a suitably horrific fashion. |
'..Ask the Chinese mothers nursing their almond-eyed spawn in Peking who he is; ask the Japanese, ask the Malays, the Hindoos, the Burmese, the coal porters in Port Said, the Buddhist priests of Ceylon; ask the King of Corea, the men up in Thibet, the Spanish priests in Manilla, or the Sultan of Borneo, the ministers of Siam, or the French in Saigon -- they'll all know Dr Nikola and his cat, and, take my word for it, they fear him."
A Bid for Fortune
Finally, most villains need some interesting possessions:
Optionally villains may use their Uncanny Powers to control or monitor their pets. Usually their pets resent this.
Petty Villains usually settle for fierce dogs; rural examples usually have at least one, generally a vicious lurcher.
Unfortunately for Heroes, there is no guarantee that a Villain's daughter will help them. Sometimes they are Villainesses, even more menacing than their fathers because they have a quality singularly lacking in Villains - common sense! These dangerous women often find simple direct solutions to their father's problems.
| Scenario Idea - Green-Eyed Monster
The Hero has rescued the Romantic Lead, but in the process has come to the attention of the Villain's daughter, a Villainess in her own right, who rescued him and has fallen passionately in love with him. Unfortunately she isn't prepared to stand aside for the Romantic Lead; she wants to replace her in the Hero's affections. She also has Strange Powers, or access to Weird Science, and plans to kidnap the Hero and use her abilities to force him to fall in love with her. Naturally the Romantic Lead mustn't be around to interfere, so she plans to have her eliminated, preferably in as terminal a manner as possible. |
Theme music for Villains should always be dramatic but somehow menacing; while the Jaws theme is probably slightly excessive, deep organ music is usually appropriate (Professor Fate), as are strange Oriental melodies (Dr. Fu Manchu) and brisk military marches (Darth Vader, any foreign officer or nobleman).
3.4 - Everybody Else
As already mentioned, most of the other characters in a melodrama are there
in a supporting role, or as comic relief. Adventurers taking any of these roles are generated normally. With the
exception of henchmen and dogs, any of the following may be required to sing or
dance if it will enhance the "atmosphere" of the melodrama. NPC peasants should appear to have no useful skills whatever; this may not
be completely true (for example, they may know of old legends), but for the
most part they are present simply to stand around in the background, drink
large quantities of beer, die horribly, accidentally let the Villain escape,
besiege a ruined castle with flaming torches and pitchforks, or join in an
occasional country song or dance. Numerous peasants of this sort appear in [F]
and [B].
Sinister peasants are very rare, and if used the referee should try to avoid
the temptation to emulate sources such as The Wicker Man. Unless they are in
the pay of the Villain, peasants tend to be friendly or at worst suspicious,
not actively hostile. Of course a lot depends on the behaviour they encounter;
if the adventurers arrive in their village firing guns and obviously looking
for trouble, a cool reception may not be entirely unreasonable, regardless of
the peasants' normal behaviour. Bandits are sometimes disguised as peasants;
generally they are an independent nuisance, not pawns of the Villain.
Gypsy mystics and fortune tellers abound, usually making eerily predictive
but unfortunately cryptic pronouncements:
Beautiful gypsy maidens are another staple of these stories. Generally they
will attempt to seduce the Hero, in an effort to enrage their gypsy lovers, and
use flamenco dancing, eerie gypsy songs, and other wiles to lure the Hero (or
a friend) into danger. Gypsy maidens (and their jealous boyfriends) are often armed with knives, and
adventurers wishing to avoid trouble would do well to stay out of their way.
Some beautiful gypsies are also fortune tellers or mystics.
As the adventurers ride through the countryside they stumble across a horse-drawn gypsy
caravan, and hear a faint cry for help; one of the wheels broke, and the elderly
gypsy who owns it is trapped underneath - it collapsed while he was repairing it.
He can't get out without help.
Once rescued he introduces himself as "old Igor" (in accented English
reminiscent of Yoda) and offers to give the adventurers some talismans; small
leather thongs, each supporting a smooth quartz pebbles marked with an odd
rune, which he swears will bring them good luck when they really need it.
There is one for each adventurer that actually helped. Any psychic touching
them feels an odd tingle, but can't work out why.
As the adventurers leave, with or without the amulets, they should see the caravan
disappear into the nearest woods, whether or not it was repaired, but the tracks
stop after a few yards. There is no sign of the wagon. If the stones weren't
accepted, they have been left dangling from the branch of a tree.
Each of the pebbles will save its wearer (and any nearby friend) from death
once, shattering as it does so. This may be an effect as mundane as
deflecting a bullet or a thrown dagger, but weird accidents are more
entertaining: for example:
As the adventurers are led to their doom, the thong of one of the stones
snaps and it bounces to the floor, where a guard treads on it and slips,
accidentally firing his gun and shooting another guard as he goes. In
the confusion the adventurers can escape.
Any attempt to duplicate a pebble will fail. The pebbles shatter if they are
stolen or sold; however, they can be given away voluntarily, and will then protect their
new owner.
When the adventurers are down to one stone old Igor re-appears, offering to
sell them more. Naturally the price is extortionate... Optionally it includes
the buyer's soul. Bumbling and comic policemen are usually portrayed as having a fairly
relaxed attitude to the law; poaching and other minor offences are often
ignored, and they can usually be distracted by the offer of a drink or a smoke.
In a modern piece they will usually appear riding or wheeling a bicycle. Often
they will contribute a comic monologue or song. They can usually be tricked.
Strutt [F] is a servant, but his role is similar to that of a typical comic
policeman. Gamekeepers are also often found in a police-like role.
Typical dialogue for a comic policeman (usually in a pronounced Mummerset
accent):
Efficient policemen are the law personified. They are usually portrayed as
young, efficient, and keen, and may be the Hero of a story. Christian [B] is
an excellent foreign example, an efficient gendarme who gradually unravels an
old mystery without ever quite realising that he is implicating his future
father-in-law. In a story with a British setting they are almost always from
Scotland Yard, and speak with an upper-class accent. For instance:
As well as the obvious Detective and combat skills, both classes of policeman
spend a lot of time out of doors, especially in rural areas, and it's entirely
reasonable to include Science (Astronomy) and Scholar (British Flora and Fauna)
amongst their skills. It's amazing how often characters will try to fob off the
law with excuses involving star gazing or bird watching...
Sailors may also appear as pirates, in which case their most noticeable traits are usually seething
resentment of their officers, lecherousness, drunkenness, and casual brutality.
However, sailors employed by a true Villain (eg. Captain Nemo) will be as smart and efficient
as any naval crew, and devoted to their work. Presumably the pay and working
conditions are better...
Useful dialogue for these friends obviously depends on the situation; for
instance:
Friends of the Romantic Lead have a very different role; they are generally
present to reflect her beauty, kindness, good nature, etc., to inadvertently
betray some secret to the Villain, and to giggle whenever the Hero is
mentioned. On rare occasions they have good advice to offer. Occasionally they
are destined to be murdered, or suffer some other horrible fate, in the
Romantic Lead's place. Usually they have no relevant skills and are totally
expendable. They say things like:
While other characters presumably have relatives (see, especially, Villains
and their daughters, above), they are generally less likely to become involved
in the plot.
Villainous Doctors and Lawyers are another matter; often they pretend to be
friendly while weaving elaborate snares for the Hero and Romantic Lead. Doctors
Nikola and Fu Manchu aside, they are usually minor Villains, or henchmen of
some major Villain, and their plans will seldom range far beyond various forms
of blackmail, and the odd murder or two. For example:
Villains are also often associated with cats, but rarely have dogs, other
than guard dogs and Petty Villains' lurchers.
Dogs etc. can be generated using Appendix E of the rules; optionally these
rules may also be used for cats etc. Unusually intelligent horses and ponies
are sometimes useful, mandatory for any adventure with a Wild West or Royal
Canadian Mounted Police background; generate them with BODY of 5 (pony) to 8
(stallion), with 12-BODY points available for the other characteristics and
skills; for example, a BODY 8 stallion gets 4 points to spend on MIND, SOUL,
and skills; a BODY 5 pony gets 7 points. All skills available to dogs can be
taken, apart from Riding (except possibly for VERY small circus ponies) and
Detective (sense of smell and eyesight aren't good enough).
A pet's function in a melodrama is to get help (usually by barking, sometimes
by carrying a message slipped into the collar), trip up the villain in a
crucial fight scene, chew through ropes and other bonds, etc. Trained animals
may be able to do more if it is dramatically appropriate; for example, bark or
tap with their hooves to indicate the direction taken by the Villain, the
number of people who have passed, etc. Unless you are running a very strange
campaign these animals should not be able to talk.
If players seem to be placing too much reliance on animals, it may be
advisable to require a MIND roll for the pet to carry out its instructions.
For example "Get help" (any human) might be Difficulty 3; "Get Uncle George"
(a specific person known to the animal) Difficulty 5, "Get the Police" (a
concept that is unlikely to be understood) Difficulty 7. Anything else, eg.
"Bite through the rope", "Fetch the keys from that hook" should be rated
according to the likelihood of the animal understanding the instruction, and
any training it may have been given. In an adventure where this rule was used
the dog concerned returned with a stick and a dead pigeon before fetching help.
3.5 - Asides, Soliloquies, Songs and Overacting
To establish the mood of melodramatic adventures, characters should use
Asides (see glossary in section 1.0 above) to convey information about the
plot and their nature (especially Villains), and Soliloquies and Songs to
establish their personalities.
Most players find "Asides" the most difficult concept to grasp. They
usually expect to act on every clue or careless word dropped by the referee and
other players, and may have trouble coping with information that they can't
use directly. Players may use Asides as often as they like, but they must be in
character, true and relevant to the current events of the adventure; if an
Aside is a lie or irrelevant, the referee should consider reducing bonus
points at the end of the adventure. Asides are most typical of Villains, but
may be used by anyone.
Nobody else can hear what is said in an Aside or act on it directly.
However, there is nothing to stop characters taking steps that arise from the
situation and "happen" to relate to what is said less directly. It happens all
the time in melodrama. Optionally the referee may also choose to let the
characters have "feelings" or "hunches" about what they've heard, on a roll of
SOUL (or any appropriate skill, eg. Medium or Psychology) versus the speaker's
MIND, Actor skill, or whatever else seems appropriate.
Players and the referee should agree a signal which makes it clear that a remark
is an Aside; the easiest is probably to hold a hand in front of the mouth and look
to one side, and begin with a phrase such as "Pah! Little do they know that..."
or "How can I tell her...". Combining this with standing and bending slightly,
as though performing a bad While it might seem that there is nothing to be gained by using an Aside,
they are powerful tools for manipulating players; it's almost impossible to
avoid being influenced by something that you know is true, even if you suspect
that it is not the whole truth.
In the example that follows the Villain's underlings have shackled the
Romantic Lead, bound and gagged, to the rudder of a ship; currently her head
is just above water, but as soon as the engines start she will be submerged
and drown. More thugs are waiting to attack the Hero if he ventures below
decks, but the Hero has unfortunately chosen to stay where he can keep an eye
on the Villain, whom he already suspects. Accordingly, the Villain decides to
risk an Aside:
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"Arr, it be warm weather for the toime of year"
"You don't want to go down there, sorr"
"Strange things do happen in these parts"
"No, sorr, I can't say that oi have seen a monster today, sorr."
"You're not from these parts, are ye, sorr."
It is impossible to overdo this accent; the more grotesque it is, the more
'authentic'! Typical possessions might include a pitchfork, a flaming torch, or
both, some sort of firearm (very rarely used), or a shepherd's crook. In the
most lavish productions peasants appear accompanied by flocks of sheep,
horse-drawn ploughs, and other evidence of their rural activities. Foreign
peasants speak with appropriate accents:
"Si, it be warm weather for the toime of year, Signore"
and wear traditional native costume, but are otherwise identical to their
British cousins.
"Soon your life... will be in... great danger."
"A man in black will cross your path."
"The fat man is looking for the bird..."
If there seems to be any chance that a prediction will be useful, someone
will generally murder the gypsy before it is complete. If possible the Villain
will frame the Hero for the death.
Scenario Idea - Igor's Gift
This episode is a short interlude which may be useful if the adventurers
are heading into unusual danger. It's a way to give them some help, without
seriously upsetting the game.
"Hello, hello, what's all this then?"
"I'm not really supposed to drink on duty, but..."
"I shall have to make a full report to my superiors"
"No licence sir? Oh, that type of licence!" (pockets coin)
"Locked in me own handcuffs. There's a predicament!"
"So at 11.15 p.m. you were all gathered in the library..."
"Did anyone speak to you as you were going into the workshop?"
"This gun has fired several shots."
"Sergeant, send for the Coroner."
"One of the people in this room is the murderer..."
Excellent examples of this type of policeman can be found in most novels by
Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, or in the play The Mousetrap by Christie.
"Squad... Atten-shun!"
"Search the village!"
"Resistance is useless!" (always good for a cheap laugh)
"By the ranks... Fire!"
"Halt! Who goes there? Friend or foe?"
"Fix bayonets!"
Officers have upper-class accents, NCOs and other ranks are typically of
Cockney or peasant stock, with appropriate accents.
"Belay that rope!"
"Eight bells and all's well!"
"Sail on the starboard bow!"
"Signal him to heave to or we open fire."
"Haul anchor!"
"Draw the fires from No 7!"
"Oh, the master never drinks wine, sir, says it gives him gout."
"Did you ring, Sir?"
"Sorry, the master's not in, he's gone down to the village."
But a sinister servant would say:
"The master never drinks... wine."
"You rang... Sir?"
"The master is not... available... at present."
Several more examples of Sinister Servant's dialogue can be found in the
Forgotten Futures rules, numerous examples of the comic style are in the
plays accompanying this collection.
"I say, I'm sure there's someone hiding in those bushes!"
"Do you have a good tip for the 3.30 at Ascot?"
"This Matabeleland business looks dashed odd."
"I say, where are you going with my new motor!"
"Don't worry about me, old boy, it's only a flesh wound."
"Don't pull which lever? This one?" [pulls it]
"That dress is lovely!"
"Oh, I do envy you so!"
"He's so handsome!"
"But have you told your mama?"
"Well... I don't like to gossip, but..."
"No... no... let go... urgh!"
"I'm only a burden to you now...."
"Far be it from me to complain, but..."
"Unless you marry him the papers will go to the police!"
"We only want what's best for you, darling."
"Give me some money, I need a drop of gin."
"We're ruined!"
"These papers are conclusive proof that you are the rightful heir to his
late Lordship's estate."
"Fortunately the scoundrel made a mistake in the mortgage; it is invalid, and your mother's home is safe."
"Sir, I write to inform you that another will has been found..."
"These tests prove you are not related; you are free to wed."
"News has come from Heidelberg; there is a cure at last!"
"The crisis has passed, and she will soon recover..."
"I'm sorry, sir, there is no cure. Perhaps we might discuss the endowment
of a charity to study your condition..."
"I fear that your father's debts must be repaid, my dear; unless, of course,
we can come to some sort of - ahem [twirls moustache] - arrangement..."
"One step closer, sir, and the will shall be in the fire - and of course the
earlier document leaves everything to your cousin..."
"So I'm afraid your little brother will die unless he has the operation - a
shame that you have no money to pay for his treatment. But there are
alternatives to money..."
"Wow - that was a long kiss!"
"Gosh - that's a long way doooooow" [splat]
"Please, will I be well soon? [tubercular cough]"
"Please - what has happened to mother / father?"
"Help - let me go! Let me go!"
Use Appendix E of the rules to design children and pets as player characters.
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| Villain | [Aside] "Little does he know that the lovely Helen will die as the ship sails. Muh-hah-hah-hah!" |
| Hero | "What changes when the ship sails? Umm - I'm going to check the anchor hoist and the engine room." |
| Referee | "Sorry, that was an Aside. What are you going to do?" |
| Hero | "I'm worried about Helen, I think I'll organise a search of the ship." |
| Referee | "OK, I'll allow that" |
| Villain | "Don't worry old boy, I'm sure she's all
right" [Aside] "Muh-hah-hah-hah-hah" |
These Asides will hopefully lure the Hero below decks, without giving too much away.
Two other forms of dialogue can be important in a melodrama; Soliloquy and Song. Both represent a statement of a character's viewpoint or aspirations, preferably in a form that has some artistic merit. For example, the opening speech of Richard III ("Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York...") and Rorschach's analysis of the meaning of life (The Watchmen part VI) are excellent Soliloquies. "I'm gonna kill everyone who stands between me and a Dukedom...", sung to a rap beat, might be a somewhat less edifying Song. Gilbert and Sullivan offer dozens of useful tunes, more can be found in the folk music of most nations. Both Soliloquy and Song can be combined with an Aside. For example:
| Villain | [Aside] "Aha - little do they know that...
[Sings] "A cunning villain I, A man of lethal habits, I'll slay my foe like rabbits, Without any pity or shame. Before the night is out I'll bump off all my cousins, kill sundry other persons, And pass to the Hero the blame, Oh, and pass to the Hero the blame..." |
| Hero | "Should I feel uneasy?" |
| Referee | "Roll your SOUL versus Difficulty 5, if you succeed you distrust him, but have no idea why." |
| Villain | "Feeling all right, old chap?" |
| Hero | [fails roll] "Felt dashed odd for a moment. Uneasy." |
| Villain | "Well, we all get odd feelings now and again. Probably something you ate. Have I introduced you to my cousin Helen...?" |
If a Song or Soliloquy is used straight, not as an Aside, everyone who is present naturally hears it, but should treat it as normal speech unless the character is supposed to be singing. Unless combat or some other life-or-death situation is in progress, time and the action stop until it's over. Songs and Soliloquies are used mainly to add atmosphere and drama, and to distinguish this genre from normal role playing.
To encourage their use referees should consider awarding bonus points for best Soliloquy, Song and Aside at the end of the adventure. Optionally this can be decided by vote.
Finally, a word about overacting. While it could be argued that it is impossible to overact in this genre, excessive ranting and displays of extreme emotion can eventually become a little wearing, and may slow the game considerably. Players will have ample opportunities to display the gamut of their acting skills in asides and soliloquies, and in the climactic scenes of adventures. At other times it's advisable to be a little more restrained.
3.6 - Recurring Roles
While one-off melodramatic adventures are fun, there can be problems with a
long campaign featuring continuing characters. Most notably Villains
(especially player characters) are usually unmasked early on, making continued
interaction with the other characters difficult or impossible.
One solution is for the characters to be treated as roles taken on by a
repertory company of "actors" whose statistics and skills continue from one
adventure to the next, with the name and motive of the role changing in each
adventure. Some of the recurring roles in Hammer horror and other film series
show this idea in action. For example, evil Sir George might be unmasked as a
Villain and killed at the end of one adventure, but the same "actor" takes on
the role of the treacherous Lawyer Perkins in the next. Skills are retained,
and Bonus points acquired in one role continue to the next, and may be used to
improve continuing skills. All of the other players know that this "actor" is
the Villain, but their characters do not.
For more variety, allocate roles to all of the characters and forget about
type casting. Evil Sir George becomes kindly Lawyer Perkins, whilst brave
Captain Strongheart becomes wicked Uncle Henry, or poor defenceless Cousin
Helen becomes the murderous Nanny Sweet. If you use this idea don't generate
characters using the special rules in earlier sections; simply allocate a few
appropriate skills to each character for the duration of the adventure. For
example, evil Sir George might be a skilled horseman while Lawyer Perkins
knows nothing of horses but is immensely skilled at business and the law.
It would be unfair to expect the player concerned to buy appropriate skills,
so the referee simply says that the character has them. In this example Sir
George might be given four points to add to his Marksmanship and Riding
skills, Lawyer Perkins is instead given four points to split between Business
and Scholar (Law).
One advantage of this style of play is that characters survive death; they
return for the next adventure, and may even gain Bonus points by dying well (or
amusingly). Award points for self-sacrifice ("I'll throw myself on the grenade
to save the others"), dying speeches ("You go on and complete the mission
chaps, I'll be all right, it's only a flesh uurrggghhhhhh"), or whatever else
seems appropriate.
This style of adventure needs slightly more preparation than a normal game.
Briefly, the referee needs to be sure that all of the player characters have
suitable roles and are happy with the genre. This is best done by giving them
a simple briefing that summarises the situation and their role in it, much as
is often done for freeform and live action RPGs. For example, for a low-key
rural melodrama:
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|
Captain Nathaniel Winston VC - Hero
You are a gallant officer in Her Majesty's Northumberland Fusiliers, recently returned home for a well-earned leave after the Zulu wars. You are in love with your third cousin Eleanor, who lives with her parents in a bleak farm on the Northumberland moors. You intend to propose during your leave, but you must make sure that your love is reciprocated first; after all, you haven't seen her in nearly four years, and it's possible that she might love another. It would be horribly embarrassing if you proposed and were rejected. You have been back for a few days, staying at the village inn and trying to work up the courage to see her. You are moderately wealthy, having been lucky with your investments in the Imperial Opium Company and other worthy corporations. What you know about the other characters:
|
Meanwhile
Naturally the referee needs to prepare some additional resources that will help to resolve the plot. For example, a letter from Fitzroy's London wife, threatening a visit to Northumberland if he doesn't sort out his "business" there quickly. This gives Fitzroy a reason to press matters; also, the letter or his reply (or the blotting table from his desk) might fall into Hillyard's hands, directly or via Higgins.
3.7 - Double, Double...
Another way to extend the idea of adventurers as a repertory troupe is
an old stand-by of small theatrical companies; doubling up roles. Some of
the actors play a major part, but also fill in with minor characters when
the main one is off-stage. For example, the referee might decide that it's
unlikely that the Romantic Lead and Effie the kitchen maid would appear in
the same scenes, and ask a player to take on both roles. This sounds simple,
but once these two roles are taken on, the characters must never appear
on stage simultaneously. In this example, if an errand takes the Romantic Lead
down to the kitchen, Effie has just gone out to pick some herbs from the kitchen
garden; if Effie has to light the fires in the dining room, the Romantic Lead
is out riding. The player running the characters must make this plausible
without making it obvious that they are never seen together; the other
players know, of course, but as characters they should notice nothing odd. Both
characters should normally be the same age and sex, but cross-dressing is entirely
appropriate to the genre; see Mrs. Doubtfire and Charley's Aunt for
two obvious examples. In Shakespeare girls often pose as young men; in the theatre
of his time most of the female roles would have been played by men, so cross-dressing
either way is plausible.
To make things more interesting, characters who are doubling up can say that
they have met each other "off-stage", or one can be on stage and talk to the
other character, provided that the second character is "off-stage" and can't
be seen or heard by anyone else. Telephone and speaking tube conversations work
well, as does talking to someone unseen through a door or window. The player
should not conduct both sides of the conversation. For example:
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| Romantic Lead | "If it's lamb we'll need some mint."
[opens kitchen window] "Oh Effie, pick some more mint please" [pauses] "How much of it has the cat spoiled?" [pauses] "Well, you'll just have to wash what's left really well" [shuts window] "Honestly, that girl is so impractical..." |
If characters are in double roles, and you are using the continuing character system described in the previous section, the main character should be the continuing character, the "doubled" role has whatever statistics and skills are appropriate. Bonus points earned by both characters go to the continuing character. If one character is killed, the other carries on for the remainer of the adventure (except as below).
Once players have taken this idea on board, it's possible to use it in various interesting ways. For example, someone might be living a double life; pretending to be two people, but actually one. There are numerous examples in fiction and on the stage, especially in farce. Perhaps the character can't decide between two sisters, and is courting both of them under different names (Two Much - Donald E. Westlake). Perhaps a meek mild-mannered disguise hides a dashing Hero; it's worked for Superman for more than sixty years. Or perhaps there is a more sinister motive...
Example: Two of the guests at a country house party are twin brothers Alex and Alec, who dislike each other intensely and won't willingly stay in the same room. This is played as though they are doubling up. In fact Alex has murdered Alec before the party, and is arranging an alibi for himself by pretending that he is still alive. This involves occupying two bedrooms, eating two breakfasts at different times, finding excuses for one or another of the "brothers" to skip different meals, and so forth. In a day or two "Alec" will argue with the host and leave the party (with plenty of witnesses to say that he went off alone in a hired cab), board a train and duck off again while nobody is looking, then change his clothing in a convenient public lavatory, and return "from a walk" as Alex and rejoin the social whirl. When Alec's decaying body is found, a few days later, it will be assumed that he was killed after the house party, when Alex will have a perfect alibi; he's going on to a yachting holiday with friends including the Prince of Wales!
This may sound implausible, but it should be remembered that fingerprints were not used for identification in Britain until 1901 (one of many reasons why a Victorian campaign is preferable), and that forensic techniques of the period would find it very difficult to distinguish between two twins in any other respect.
This idea can be reversed; have the doubled up player pretend that the two roles are actually a single person, by being deliberately clumsy about the change from one role to the other. Set the other characters up to think that they are in fact a single person. Wait for the other characters to confront one of the two with their suspicions... then have the second person walk in as an NPC and ask what's going on! This may optionally come as a surprise to everyone, including the player who has played both roles; for instance, in the murder example above, the real Alec may have escaped from his brother's death trap, and arrived to blackmail him - or may even be a ghost!
4.0 - Elements of Melodrama
So far this worldbook has described melodramatic characters and the world
in which their adventures take place. This section expands on some of these
elements, especially their game effects, and is intended primarily for referees.
Any modern physicist will tell you that the strongest forces in the universe bind
the atomic nucleus (a Victorian physicist would probably choose magnetism).
Any dramatist will tell you that the strongest forces in
melodrama are Love, which binds human souls, and Hate, which tears them
apart. Almost as important are Luck, which often ensures the triumph of good,
and the ineluctable workings of Fate. Life and Death are also important, of
course; it can be surprisingly difficult to kill a Hero or Villain within this
genre, and infallible death traps and infernal devices are seldom reliable.
The final ingredient of any melodrama is Justice; good must be rewarded and
evil punished.
4.1 - Love and Hate
As mentioned earlier, Heroes will usually love the Romantic Lead, and
vice versa, although they may be torn apart by circumstances. This has the
following game effects: Hate is common as a motivating force, again for the Villain, most often
manifested as a desire for revenge. This also has strange psychic effects, even
if none of the characters involved normally has any psychic powers. Villains run by players should follow this convention wherever possible. If
not, warn them that their status as a true melodramatic Villain is threatened,
and that this may have unfortunate consequences. Sanctions might include a loss
of Bonus points, defection of NPC underlings (who will feel that the Villain is
"going soft" by offering the Hero an easy death), alienation of wayward daughters
and other associates who might feel some affection for the Hero, and so forth.
4.2 - Luck and Fate
After love, the strongest force in the melodramatic universe is luck. It
protects the Hero and makes the Romantic Lead virtually unkillable,
causes unfortunate coincidences for the Villain at dramatically appropriate
moments, and ensures that characters will usually be at the right place at the
right time.
To simulate the less than blind workings of fate roll a dice whenever a
lucky accident will help the Hero and/or allies, or harm the Villain
and his henchmen. On a 1-3 an accident or coincidence will help the forces of Good
or hinder Evil. On a 4-6 nothing happens. Both sides may spend Bonus
points to modify the result BEFORE the dice is rolled. This dice roll is
additional to any meddling with reality needed to keep the Romantic Lead
alive etc.
Players should be encouraged to suggest ways for the Villain's scheme to go
wrong. In games where the Villain is run by a player sympathetic to the genre,
the Villain may even help to arrange them!
Coincidences are often an easy way to put a spoke in the Villain's wheels;
for example, someone the Villain is impersonating may arrive unexpectedly, or
a letter may be opened accidentally and its contents reported to the police.
Unfortunately simple coincidences may leave the players feeling cheated; it's
better if the workings of chance, or a mistake by the Villain, gives them a
helping hand but still leave them a lot to do. For example:
The Hero and friends have been left bound in a windmill which the Villain
has doused with paraffin and set alight.
4.3 - Life and Death
One of the ways in which a melodramatic campaign differs from a more realistic
game is the question of death. Basically, the death of major characters should
only take place when it is dramatically appropriate. Minor characters, such as
henchmen, can drop like flies, but Heroes, Villains, and their Romantic Leads
should live on, at least to the final act, and usually the Hero and Romantic
Lead should survive to live happily ever afterwards - or at least until the
next adventure. Villains should also have ample opportunities to escape, if it is
dramatically appropriate.
Villains (and their headquarters) should always be provided with an escape
route, several if possible. Adventurers should always be left convinced that
the Villain has been killed without actually having proof. For example, the
Hero might throw the Villain into a pool of piranha. The water bubbles and
turns red, and later the tank is drained to reveal a skeleton bearing the
Villain's ring.
What really happens, of course, is that the villain's clothing conceals
sachets of a special foaming piranha-repellent dye, cunningly formulated
to turn the water opaquely red. He screams and goes under, then swims down to a
secret hatch and escape tunnel. The skeleton is that of an earlier victim, wearing
a duplicate of the Villain's ring without its mystic powers. While the Hero is
busy trashing the Villain's base and some expendable underlings (and incidentally
setting off a few booby-traps designed to cover the Villain's tracks) the
Villain is relaxing aboard his steam-powered submarine and planning his next
onslaught on society.
Heroes also need to survive, but can't take advantage of such bizarrely
paranoid planning. Usually they are forced to work on the Villain's home ground,
not their own, and need a few tricks up their sleeves to gain the advantage.
Luck can often help, as described above, but a few simple and suitably
disguised tools and weapons are worth their weight in gold, since Henchmen and
thugs never seem to spot them.
Villains also need their fair share of tricks. Simply shooting the Hero is,
of course, too fast and easy; a slow lingering death is preferable. Any Villain
worthy of the name will have much "better" answers to unwanted interference.
Unfortunately they seldom realise that often the easy answers are the best, and
that the well-known phrase "keep it simple, stupid" is entirely applicable to
their profession...
4.3.1 - Nothing Up My Sleeve
Most Heroes tend to fall into the job unexpectedly. One day they are retired
soldiers (Bulldog Drummond), sportsmen, servants [V], or colonial entrepreneurs
[BFF], the next they are framed for murder, shot at with air rifles, chased
across the Yorkshire Moors by tracker dogs, and otherwise thrown into unusually
dangerous situations. A minority of Heroes, and most Anti-Heroes, are prepared
for this sort of work, by training or prior experience, and are equipped for
trouble; theoretically most new Heroes have no reason to expect it, but the
referee should be reasonably liberal in allowing them to own suitable equipment.
Most Heroes probably own some sort of firearm, if only a hunting rifle or shotgun,
or a trusty service revolver. Cavalry sabres and other melee weapons are also
possible, although less likely to be carried on an everyday basis. Unfortunately
Villains with any forethought will undoubtedly be ready for normal weapons; their
thugs will confiscate them if they capture the Hero, especially if he is to be taken to the
Villain's lair. Fortunately small easily-concealed weapons were readily available
in the 19th century, and many other useful devices can be tucked into odd corners
of a Hero's clothing. If they aren't obvious they should pass unnoticed in a
quick search. Two examples from the 1920s (but readily usable much earlier):
The Saint carried a cigarette case. The edge of the lid, covered when
the case was closed, was razor sharp and easily used to cut through bonds. While
the cigarettes in one side of the case were normal, those in the other concealed
magnesium flares and smoke pellets. He also wore a small throwing knife christened
"Anna" (later replaced by "Belle"), usually strapped to his wrist, and was adept at
drawing it and cutting his bonds without any obvious movement. He frequently carried
lockpicks, pen torches, and other tools. In one adventure he was able to
enter a South American prison (as a prisoner) while concealing a knife and
several gold coins.
Lord Peter Wimsey sometimes used a walking stick (nicknamed the
"gentleman-scout's vade mecum") which contained a compass and a sword, and was
marked in inches for measurement. He also had a monacle which was actually a
powerful magnifying glass, and a small torch disguised as a silver matchbox.
A. J. Raffles carried an assortment of burglary tools, listed in one
of the later stories, The Raffles Relics, including: Some other weapon possibilities include knives concealed in belts or the heels of
shoes, books hollowed out to contain small pistols, hip flasks and other pocket items
that are actually disguised guns, crucifixes containing daggers,
hats designed as throwing weapons (The Avengers, Goldfinger), garrottes disguised
as watch chains and ties, gloves weighted with strips of thin lead sheet for use
as knuckle dusters, and stilettos used as hat or tie pins. All of these should be
used as any equivalent non-concealed weapon.
Other devices that might be carried concealed by Heroes include lock picks, vials of
acid to dissolve chains (Doc Savage), vials of an anaesthetic drug (Doc Savage, Modesty Blaise),
hacksaw blades or files, a whistle for summoning help, lengths of rope or strong cord (especially concealed
by a dress, cummerbund or wide belt), phosphorescent paint for blazing a trail in the
dark, invisible ink, and simple disguises. More possibilities include pocket telescopes or
opera glasses, magnetic compasses on watch fobs (or in the back of a pocket watch),
and books used as keys for code messages. Anyone prepared for serious snooping
might also carry the following devices, both available in the late 19th century: Naturally no true lady or gentleman would use such devices, and it should be
remembered that the "romance" of espionage is largely an invention of late 19th
and 20th-century fiction. Until comparatively recently spies were regarded as
scum, and no respectable person would have anything to do with them or the tools
of their trade. Referees should also remember the limitations of period technology
and refuse to allow anachronisms such as ridiculously small electromagnets and
other Bond-style trickery. These limits apart, almost anything that can plausibly
be owned by the character should be allowed in the game.
4.3.2 - Durance Vile
"By Jove, I have it!" I said, taking care to whisper lest any one might
be listening at the door. "We must manage by hook or crook to catch a mouse and
let him carry our appeal for help to the outside world."
One of the oddest escape plans in the history of adventure fiction is outlined in
the quote above. It works, after a fashion.
At some point in most melodramatic adventures someone will probably be taken
prisoner, interrogated, possibly tortured, and forced to escape at
thousand-to-one odds.
Capture of the Hero is usually relatively simple; the Villain's henchmen find
him and either drug him or beat him to a pulp. Coming round with a pounding
headache, handcuffed to a rusty steel bed in a dimly-lit cell, is a cliche of
the genre; certain secret agents tend to wake in mink-lined cells
with every modern comfort and convenience, but that's another story.
Abduction of the Romantic Lead (in this context almost invariably female) should
be accomplished with more style. Two of the best cinematic examples come from
James Bond films; Casino Royale and From A View To A Kill. In the first the
lady in question is plucked from Downing Street by a Henchman disguised as a
mounted member of the Household Cavalry, who gallops towards Trafalgar Square
and a waiting getaway vehicle. In the second she is siezed from a cliff-top by
one of the Villain's henchmen, leaning out of a small dirigible.
Less spectacular Villains usually find that a Hanson cab and
a rag soaked in chloroform are reasonably effective. However the abduction
takes place, the Romantic Lead won't usually be tortured; it's more
usual for her to be plied with wine and made an offer that no respectable maiden could
possibly accept, in terms that can't easily be refused. Sometimes, of course,
the Villain may regretfully find it necessary to strap her to a plank in a
sawmill, tie her to a railway line, or dangle her over a convenient cliff, but
this isn't torture as such, it's simply a way to engage the Hero's attention.
Captivity and subsequent escape is so much a cliche of the genre that referees should allow and
encourage escape and rescue plans that rely on implausible luck, extreme
gullibility (of guards etc.), the ability to hide vast quantities of
contraband, the seduction of a guard, daughter or slave-girl who has previously
been entirely loyal to the Villain, or whatever else is needed to get the Hero
or Romantic Lead out of durance vile. This doesn't mean that schemes which
are flatly impossible should succeed; it simply means that any plan that has
any chance of working will probably do so, if it is dramatically
appropriate. Naturally there should be problems, but nothing a Hero can't handle.
Not all escapes are all that they seem; Villains may choose
to allow an escape, in order to gain some later advantage. For instance, the
Hero may have helped the Romantic Lead to escape before he was captured;
by allowing him to escape the Villain may hope to track him to her hiding place.
Similarly, the Villain might want something else that the Hero has, a secret or vital
document, and can only find it if the Hero leads him there. If this occurs the
Hero should be given a few chances to realise the truth, but the referee should
remember that any self-respecting Villain will do these things with style; letting
the Hero shake off a few obvious thugs while his real pursuers lurk in the
shadows, or even offer to help the Hero.
For Heroes some torture, physical or mental, is almost obligatory before the escape. Since
there is no game mechanism for feeling pain, physical torture should be handled as
bruises, flesh wounds, and injuries, with consequent effects on the ability to
fight or move quickly. In extreme cases one or more characteristics may be reduced
temporarily; for example, after a severe beating the Hero is groggy with pain,
and MIND and BODY are temporarily used at -2. Note that torturers are rarely
the smartest people in the world, and a resourceful Hero may be able to use
their tools against them to escape; the film True Lies shows an excellent example. Heroes who fail
to take advantage of such opportunities may live to regret their slowness; permanent
mutilation is entirely possible, though rare in the genre. For example, after several
severe beatings the Hero might lose the sight in one eye, with permanent effects on various
skills.
The most usual forms of mental torture are revelation of some horrible secret
that will cause the Hero anguish ("I am your father, Luke..."), threats to someone
that the Hero holds dear ("Even now acid is slowly burning through the rope
that holds your mother above the tank of crocodiles..."), and the use of
mesmerism and strange powers or machines to bend the Hero's will to the
Villain's plans. Traditionally these attempts should fail, or should be
interrupted just as the Villain is about to succeed; by an accident or mechanical
breakdown, by the arrival of a message, by some disturbance, or by the Hero somehow finding
a way to resist the insidious influence. See The Ipcress File for an
example. Ideally the Hero should learn something useful from these attempts, the
secret of the Villain's powers or a way to combat them.
Once the Hero has been tortured, it's time for a daring escape. The
gadgetry listed in the previous section can be useful, but resourcefulness and
skill are equally important. Some of the most successful methods seen in
melodrama rely entirely on audacity. For example, a common trick is to leave a
dummy made of folded blankets in a cell bed, hide beside the door, and sneak
out while a guard investigates the "sleeping prisoner". Overcoming a guard and
wearing his uniform to escape is also a good move. But the method selected is
less important than style and panache. A Hero who spends hours sneaking slowly
through the Villain's headquarters should run into problems, booby traps and
guards who will be alert for unusual activities. A Hero who walks out whistling
and nodding to the guards as he passes them might go entirely unnoticed, as
everyone assumes that he has a right to be there. In practice most escapes will
probably fall somewhere between these extremes.
4.3.3 - Death Traps and Infernal Devices
Melodrama wouldn't be melodrama without an element of danger. The most characteristic
forms are the Death Trap, a staple of the genre on stage as well as in print,
and the Infernal Device, most often found in melodramatic fiction.
Death Traps range from the basic routine of tying a victim to a plank in a
sawmill and letting the machinery take its course, to elaborate
and fallible mechanical contrivances, with no other purpose than the destruction
of the Hero. Why anyone would bother to build such devices is rarely explained;
a gun would presumably be more cost-effective, but most Villains seem to prefer
to push the Hero into elaborate mazes full of electrified wires and razor blades,
or trap them in chambers modelled after car crushers. Often the Hero emerges
intact and armed with an array of improvised weapons ripped from the mechanism,
which surely isn't the idea.
A full guide to death traps would require an inordinate amount of space, and
since there are already many examples in fiction and in role playing games it
seems a little unnecessary. Remember that in melodrama traps must always have at
least one weakness; this may be as simple as an accessible "Off" switch (in a
Victorian setting this will probably be a large lever or steam control valve),
but something a little more complicated is better. Ideally the weakness
should be a design flaw which will stop it working if the victim spots
it in time. For example, a trap which floods a room via several vents at floor
level needs a way for air to escape at ceiling level; if the air vent is
blocked, the air in the room will be compressed into the top of the
room, but won't go away completely. It ought to be possible to stay afloat and
breathe near the ceiling, if the Hero can release himself from the large lead
weights manacled to his legs. Alternatively, the weight and pressure of this
much water is going to put a lot of strain on the door; with a little help
from the Hero, who could use those large lead weights as hammers, it might be
persuaded to give way. There is a version of this trap (and others) in one of
the FF II adventures, The Ganymedan Menace.
If Villainous PCs wish to build death traps the referee should assign a Difficulty
rating, as for any other project. A simple trap such as a trap-door over a pit
with a few spikes might be Difficulty 4, a room with moving walls designed to
crush intruders might be Difficulty 8 or 10. Once the trap is built it must still
be used, which may require a roll using an appropriate skill (such as Mechanic)
to activate the mechanism, or the use of skills such as Artist to disguise it
until the victim is caught. The trap may also need to overcome the victim's
BODY in some way; if it fails, the mechanism jams in some way which will require
intervention by a mechanic or some other specialist. On a 12, on any of these
rolls, the mechanism breaks down completely; for example, the trap door jams or the
hydraulic system behind the moving walls springs a catastrophic leak.
A brief search of some period fiction found the following traps, often in
several stories:
Infernal Devices are typically bombs, but there are many
other possibilities. Some are targeted at an individual, others are simple engines
of indiscriminate destruction. Villains tend to prefer the more personal approach,
especially when dealing with a Hero, since it is more elegant to kill one man
than a hundred; however, a minority are happy to kill hundreds if it's the
only way to be sure of reaching a difficult target. Infernal Devices are
usually a means to an end - the destruction of the Hero - but sometimes they
are the lynch-pin of the Villain's schemes. Devices which can kill most of the
human race generally fall into this category. A good example is the Nemor
disintegration machine (see FF III), which was supposed to be
capable of destroying cities.
There is some overlap between Death Traps and Infernal Devices, especially those
using venomous spiders etc. as the execution method; for the purposes of this
worldbook a Death Trap is a fixed installation, usually in the Villain's lair, while
an Infernal Device is more portable and tends to be used on the victim's home
ground. The sources mentioned above suggested a wide repertoire of Infernal Devices, as
well as numerous weapons with some element of the Infernal Device about them:
Remember that these devices very rarely work, at least as far as killing the
Hero or Romantic Lead is concerned, and should only succeed against other
adventurers if they are very careless; they may accidentally kill a servant or
an innocent bystander, but that's what NPCs are for. Adventurers exposed to
Infernal Devices should always be given some clue; faint scratching or ticking
noises or a smell of burning from a parcel, scratches around the lock of the room
they are about to enter, something furtive about the behaviour of the stranger
who offers them a cigar, and so forth.
If PC Villains want to build Infernal Devices the Difficulty should be at least
4 or 5, more if the trap is unusually fiendish, has anti-handling devices, or
needs to withstand rough handling. For example, a bomb fused to explode after an
hour, with no other mechanisms, might be Difficulty 4; if it is also fused to
explode if its box is opened, Difficulty rises to 6; if it is designed to go
through the post without detonating, it rises to 8. The person arming the Device
must use relevant skills to overcome the Device's Difficulty; if the roll is
failed the Device won't work (but this won't immediately be apparent); on a 12
the Device activates immediately, an "own goal" accident. This is one of many
reasons why Villains have underlings to perform these tasks.
Methods used to deal with suspicious packages typically include immersion in
a bucket of water, cutting open the package from an odd direction to bypass a
booby trap linked to the string, and other simple stratagems; referees should try to resist the
temptation to have NPC Villains send adventurers parcels that spontaneously explode
on contact with water, that are fused on all six faces, or detonate if exposed
to X-Rays...
4.4 - Justice
To be true to this genre Good must eventually triumph over Evil. Justice
must eventually prevail, even if it seems remarkably unlikely, but this often
follows prolonged injustice.
Accordingly, the police, courts, and other authorities will not necessarily
help the Hero at first; misunderstandings, money and perjury may often distort
the truth, and leave the Hero or a friend or loved one imprisoned [F]
or on the run. This is often a good starting point for an adventure, giving characters
an excellent motive to uncover the truth. See The 39 Steps, The Fugitive, or
the novels Clouds of Witness and Strong Poison (Dorothy L. Sayers)
for good examples.
Once the adventurers have the truth, they need to prove it. Villains
should always admit their evil, once unmasked - after all, it's no fun being
a Villain if you can't gloat about it - but won't necessarily do so when the
police are around. The adventurers need to trick the Villain into confessing
in the presence of the authorities; this might involve concealing a policeman
behind a curtain, arranging a microphone to allow a conversation to be overheard,
or hiding a recording phonograph in a cupboard.
Once the Villain is unmasked long formalities should be avoided; this is the
ideal moment for a fight on the lip of a volcano, for the Villain to plummet to
(apparent) doom, or some other circumstance which brings the adventure to a rapid
close. All wrongs should be righted, the Romantic Lead reunited with the Hero,
and plot threads otherwise bought to a close. End on a high note - the marriage of
Hero and Romantic Lead is ideal, if players are prepared to co-operate - and
leave the players to take their bows and Bonus points. Optionally have a piece of
card prepared, reading "The End"; you may wish to add the words "Or is it..?", and
end the adventure with the Villain's hideous laugh as the adventurers discover
that he has somehow escaped them yet again...
5.0 - The Supernatural
Supernatural events are common in melodrama, but tend to take over a campaign
if they are used repeatedly. Mostly supernatural entities are present as a
warning of trouble ahead or to act as commentator in the fight between Good
and Evil [V], to accuse someone [B], or to serve as a picturesque addition to
the plot. Occasionally they may play a more active role, but for the most part
the referee should treat them as special effects, not NPCs.
Fake supernatural events may be used by Villains as cover for their plans;
the most obvious example is The Hound of the Baskervilles, others
can be found in some of the FF IV stories. This should occur much more
often than real supernatural events. Ghosts have the MIND and SOUL of their original, and their knowledge, but no
BODY or physical skills. Any skill based only on MIND, SOUL, or both may
be retained, but only as knowledge; a ghost might know how to fire a gun, but
can't actually do it.
Some ghosts are capable of a Psychic Attack (Base S/2); the ghost
uses this power against the SOUL of its victim. To do so it
must be in very close or in direct physical contact, without any barriers. If
the victim's soul is overcome, the victim feels, at the least, a loathsome
presence; at worse he or she suffers appalling mental torments, up to and
including permanent loss of SOUL or insanity.
If the attack succeeds, roll against the victim's defending SOUL as follows:
Note: This power amalgamates several of the Ab-Natural powers described in
FF IV, and is suggested as a replacement for them.
Occasional ghosts (and other supernatural entities) are able to take the
living on real or imaginary journeys to the past, future, alternate worlds,
etc.; see A Christmas Carol and the film It's A Wonderful Life
for ideas. Some may also be able to turn time back, allowing a second chance
if someone has made a bad mistake. Of course this may
be a second chance to foul up even more badly than before....
The dead might also be encountered less directly, via mediums or in dreams.
See previous FF collections, especially FF III, for details of
seances, medium's techniques, and spiritualism.
Many other forms are possible, reflecting the mythological or religious
background of the deceased. For example, a dragon might claim the soul of a
Chinese victim. A "door" or tunnel of whirling mist might open, revealing a
dazzling white light that pulls in the victim's soul. Regardless of its form,
Death does not bargain, play games, engage in light banter (or any other form
of conversation beyond an occasional "come..."), or make mistakes; it is
present simply to separate the living from the dead and consign the souls of
the latter to their fate. If it carries a weapon, it will always be a cutting
implement, used to sever the soul's attachment to the body; it does not kill
people. Readers are strongly advised to avoid referring to the
Discworld novels, the Bill and Ted films, The Meaning of
Life, Last Action Hero etc. when describing this entity. It is
unstoppable, inescapable, and invulnerable, so game data seems unnecessary.
Once summoned, demons have all the features that might be expected - wings,
fangs, tails, etc. for conventional Judeo-Christian demons, or whatever is
appropriate for whichever religion is their origin - and, although naked,
appear wreathed in flame and smoke that conceals certain portions of their
anatomy. They are generally stupid; for example, Chinese demons can only move
in straight lines, and won't circle around an obstacle to attack from the rear.
Their appearance shocks anyone seeing them for 7 - MIND rounds, during which
time all actions are performed with +2 Difficulty.
A summoned demon may be confined by a pentacle, but something will
always happen to break the pentacle; for example, the floor might
catch fire. Once freed, it will turn on its summoners (who are, of course,
damned by the act of summoning it), and on anyone else whose soul is
sufficiently tarnished by evil. The truly good (especially Romantic Leads and
Heroes) are safe, unless the Villain or demon can trick them into performing an
evil deed, but may be harmed by the side effects of a demon's appearance, such
as a burning building. Naturally the referee should try to prevent adventurers
from knowing any of this in advance of the demon's release. Anyone attacked by
a demon is going to die, and no physical barrier can stop it, although it may
take a round or two to break or burn through. Holy water, crucifixes, and
equivalent symbols of other religions may be effective, if they are used by
someone who truly believes in the appropriate religion and isn't damned, but
such people are safe anyway. Genuinely consecrated buildings will keep a demon
out. A pentacle may also keep a demon out, if drawn from the
inside, but this takes time which will rarely be available if a
demon is attacking. Once a demon has fed, it returns to Hell.
There is an exception to this general description; certain Villains may in
fact be unusually intelligent demons sent to live on Earth, imitating normal human
beings, to carry out some evil project. If so they should be designed as any
other Villain. They have the psychic attack power described in the section on
ghosts above, and possibly some other magical powers which should be used as
special effects, but not to attack adventurers directly - for example,
exploding an NPC's head, or extending talons from their fingers and snatching an
NPC's heart from his body. They still have the demonic limitations above; they
can't harm true innocence (but might have a human henchman do it for them), and
are stopped by pentacles and holy symbols. They can't enter consecrated buildings,
but consecration can be cancelled out by desecration, carried out by a human
servant. They have all normal human vulnerabilities, and if killed must return
to Hell to face the wrath of their "superiors". Such Villains may not be
player characters.
Demons in human form usually have some betraying detail, such as eyes that
glow in unguarded moments, and can contort their anatomy in ways no real human
could match; for example, one might extend its tongue eighteen inches to lick a
bound Romantic Lead's cheek ("euuuuggghh") and taste her innocence, or, after
ripping out someone's heart, open its mouth wide enough to engulf and swallow
it whole. If necessary they can revert to their true demonic form, but this
takes several rounds; once in their true form they are invulnerable.
Excellent sources for this type of demon are the films Big Trouble In
Little China and The Golden Child.
Angels are stereotypical winged figures with haloes. Their appearance awes
anyone seeing them for 7 - SOUL rounds, during which time all actions are
performed with +2 Difficulty. They bring light, warmth, and a sensation of
"goodness" - or of shame if the person seeing them has ever done any evil deed.
Nobody can lie in their presence, and an angel knows instantly if someone is
trying to lie by omitting part of the truth.
Other supernatural entities should be described by referees as needed; for
example, fairies are tiny, mischievous, and incredibly agile, so the chances of
anyone swatting one are negligible, and their magic should be a special effect
with nuisance value, not harmful.
6.0 - Weird Science & Scientific Romances
In scientific romance science serves as the motivating force behind
most plots; in "pure" melodrama it tends to serve primarily as stage dressing, substituted
for more familiar weapons and devices. A modern example is the use of lasers
in spy films; they appear almost entirely as destructive weapons, generally
aimed at the Hero, and most of their other applications are ignored. The best
instance comes from the film Goldfinger, which took a typical melodramatic
scene from the novel (James Bond strapped to a steel bench, with a circular saw
moving towards him) and simply substituted a laser. For the purposes of melodrama,
science needs to be as flashy and weird as possible; machines don't just go
"ping", they roar, emit gigantic sparks and have hundreds of moving parts.
Obviously it is possible to base a melodramatic plot on a scientific
idea; for example, a stolen invention or secret weapon, or mysterious events
that seem to be impossible or can only be explained by hitherto-unknown science.
A world based on scientific romance can be a good background for melodrama;
many of the adventures in previous Forgotten Futures collections have been
highly melodramatic.
The list that follows is a necessarily brief account of a few ideas that were
at the weirdest and most speculative end of science at the end of the nineteenth
century, and some ideas for their use in melodramatic adventures and campaigns.
Some have previously been discussed, in somewhat different form, in FF III. Later trials, ordered by Louis XVI, showed that it was possible to produce
all the effects of mesmerism without any of the paraphernalia, provided that
the subject believed that it was present. For example, one patient reacted
to a tree which he was told was charged with magnetic fluid, but had not been.
Louis' scientists dismissed mesmerism as an effect of imagination, somehow
failing to realise that it was nevertheless possible to put people into trances
and use it to cure many psychosomatic illnesses; as a result science
virtually ignored it for many years. Naturally it was soon a staple of melodrama;
in this collection The Bells and A Bid For Fortune, and possibly
The Vampire, show it in use, in other melodramas it is even more
prominent.
Mesmerism is a useful tool for any self-respecting Villain, and might also
be used by the Hero or a friend to stimulate suppressed memories; in Dracula
Van Helsing uses it to stimulate a telepathic link between the Romantic Lead and
the Count, and track him to Transylvania.
In a scientific romance or steampunk campaign animal magnetism might
really exist, and plots could revolve around the theft or misuse of magnetic
fluid. For example, there could be a Fiendish Plot to pipe it through the water
mains then tell the mesmerised victims to commit crimes, or a bottle of
champagne the Queen (God bless her) will use to launch a ship might be charged
with the fluid, and her speech edited to give the Villain control of the
assembled dignitaries once they are splashed with the droplets. Devices might
be built to extract magnetic fluid from unwilling victims, leaving them as
zombies or destroying their health. Clockwork or steam automata might be
charged with the substance, becoming intelligent androids.
Objects initially contain MF [0]; skilled Mesmerists and Mediums can add
MF [1] by using their skill or power to overcome the object's BODY+MF.
This takes approximately an hour, and leaves the donor tired (+1 Difficulty to
all actions) until he or she has slept. The process can be repeated unless a 12
is rolled, each MF donation adding MF [1] to the object but making the donor
more tired as above. Note that the Difficulty modifier applies to all actions
including charging the object; it's easiest to do it in stages over
several days. Once an object is charged, the power stored in it can be released
in one burst using all the MF (this is the only way to release it in a remote
control attack), or a series of smaller releases. The maximum number of smaller
releases is the object's BODY.
Example: The Insidious Doctor Strabismus has Mesmerism [7], and wants to charge
a BODY [2] crystal ball to MF [5]. The first attempt must overcome Difficulty [3],
the next must overcome Difficulty [4] if the first attempt succeeded, etc. Once the ball is
charged Dr. Strabismus can add the MF stored to his own power, provided that he
touches the ball as he uses it. He can use MF [7] in one attack at Mesmerism
[12], or add MF [1] to [6] in one attack and use the remaining MF in another.
Example: The Romantic Lead despises Doctor Strabismus, and won't talk to him
or suffer his hideous advances, so he charges a bottle of wine to
MF [8] and has a waiter deliver it to her table. She foolishly drinks a glass,
and its MF overcomes her SOUL, leaving her in a mesmeric trance. Moments later
Strabismus approaches her table and orders her to leave with him. If used for healing, the stored MF attacks the Difficulty rating of the
injury; if successful, the healing time is halved (the number of days should be
rounded DOWN). This can be done more than once. It is strongly recommended that
this should only work from stored sources of Magnetic Fluid, not by
simple laying on of hands, and that this power should not normally be available
to player characters. All adverse effects of the wound stay in effect until
healing is complete.
Example: One of Strabismus' most valuable underlings has a broken arm
(Injury, Difficulty 6, 1 month to heal), and his talents will be needed in ten
days. Strabismus has several In our world the Michelson-Morley experiments of 1881 and 1887 showed that
the ether could not exist, at least in this form; if it had, the speed of light
measured in the experiment would be affected by the rotation of the Earth and
the movement of the Earth around the Sun, and vary with direction.
The ether was also believed to be involved in supernatural manifestations
such as the production of ectoplasm; the exact mechanism was never made clear.
FF III describes a world in which the Ether is real and has these properties;
in a scientific romance campaign devices to harness the ether might be in common
use. Spaceships are one possible consequence; GDW's late Space 1889 game
used this technology, and it has appeared in stories by Barrington J. Bayley
and others. For melodrama, weapons and other devices might be based on
the ether, especially if they have been developed by an NPC Mad Scientist Villain,
and it's certainly a good word to use in "technobabble" describing
weird technology or powers:
"Hah! Even as we speak my Etheric Resonator is creating an invulnerable
wall of force around this very chamber. Your friends will never be able to break
through to save you! Never! Nyah ha ha ha ha!"
Similarities to the 1950s UFO craze are obvious (and the mystery has
been worked into most subsequent UFO theories), and there is still no
certainty about the explanation.
There was a related airship hoax; it was claimed that Edison had
built the airship seen over America, and messages "dropped" from the
craft were widely publicised. Edison eventually had to go to the Press
to deny these reports. The real mystery has gradually become one of
the staples of steampunk SF. See especially various novels by James
Blaylock and K. W. Jeter.
A Honeymoon In Space (The Astronef Collection and FF
CD-ROM) begins with such a mystery, which later proves to be the first
test flights of the spaceship Astronef. For a scientific romance
campaign almost anyone might be the builder; a scientific Hero or Anti-Hero
might build one secretly to right wrongs (as in George Griffith's The Angel
of the Revolution) or as a weapon to end war (Jules Verne's The Clipper
of the Clouds), or a villain might plan to use a flying ship to conquer the
world. Flying cities could only be built by a scientist of global stature, and
are an awesome setting for any adventure (The Empire Strikes Back and
James Blish's Cities In Flight series are the obvious examples).
FF I contains airship construction rules, and FF II has rules for building
spaceships and aerial battleships. The war-game Aeronef by Steve Blease
and Matthew Hartley (Wessex Games, 4 Old Acre Road, Whitchurch, Bristol BS14 OHN, UK)
is based in part upon the background of FF II, and is recommended for mass airship combats. Since the publication of Donnelly's book there has been periodic
interest in Atlantis; Gladstone proposed an expedition to find the
lost continent, the Theosophists and others incorporated it into their
beliefs, and it is a staple of UFO / Bermuda Triangle / conspiracy
theory sensationalism. Nevertheless there is no real evidence that the
place ever existed...
Several Atlantis novels were published at the end of the 19th century;
usually they were told from the viewpoint of inhabitants of that land, or
as "memories revealed by mesmerism". Characters who are Reborn (see Section 3)
might have memories of Atlantis, which may include encounters with Weird
Atlantean Science or magic, and may give clues to the nature or construction
of Weird Science infernal devices and other gadgetry.
Physiognomy was superficially a more convincing study, which assumed
that personality was reflected in facial features. Unfortunately there
was little real evidence to support the idea; the psychiatrist and
spiritualist Cesare Lombroso developed this 'science' by studying the
faces of known criminals, rather than the population as a whole, and
assumed that the features he found were certain signs of criminality.
Obviously there is often some relationship between facial appearance
and personality; for example, someone who is unusually ugly may suffer
from psychological problems, caused by the reactions of those around
him, but this is not a certainty. Lombroso erred in trying to assign
certain combinations of features to certain criminal traits, and
assuming that these associations would always hold good. He also
failed to distinguish between inherited features and the results of
injury, malnutrition, and disease. Some of the worse criminals would
pass completely undetected by this 'test'; Hitler would have looked like
a plumper version of Kirk Douglas without his moustache.
Scientists may use this knowledge instead of the usual Psychology
skill, and with exactly the same modifiers, but only to determine the
personality and criminality of a subject. They do not gain any of the
other effects of the skill.
Not that if these sciences are accepted, a mistake or deception might lead
to the denunciation of an innocent person, perhaps even the Hero, as showing
dangerous criminal traits, disrupting the cause of True Love and possibly
endangering life or liberty. See numerous sources for the possible consequences
of today's attempts to predict personality from genetics, which are very
relevant to this theme. In 1903 Professor Blondlot of France discovered a similar form of radiation,
N-Rays. They were emitted by many metals and natural materials, but not by wood;
they could be perceived by the human eye in a darkened room, and went through
aluminium as light goes through glass. Researchers throughout France duplicated
the phenomenon, and more than 100 papers were published within a year of the
original report. Oddly, very few scientists could duplicate the effect elsewhere.
In 1904 R.W. Wood, an American scientist, visited Blondlot's laboratory.
He couldn't see N-Rays even when Blondlot was running the experiment, and
suspected that they might not exist. Since the apparatus was in a dark room,
Wood secretly removed a vital component and replaced it with a piece of wood.
When Blondlot still said he could see N-Rays, Wood made further checks, which
proved that the 'discovery' was an illusion; Blondlot was unable to tell the
difference between 'functioning' and 'faulty' apparatus. Other experimenters
had apparently jumped onto the N-Ray bandwagon because visual illusions are
common in very dim light, and because they wanted to
believe that France had produced a new discovery to rival X-Rays. Once
Wood's findings were published, most of the N-Ray papers were quietly
withdrawn. The coincidence of Wood's name and the material used is
considered highly significant by some Forteans.
In a scientific romance setting X-Rays might indeed be used to look through
walls and have curative properties, N-Rays might exist and have similar powers,
or do something entirely novel. For example, an N-Ray transmitter might be used
with special tinted glasses to allow someone to see in apparent darkness, or
to pierce water and see submerged objects. An N-Ray detector could be
the basis for a sensing device akin to the Star Trek "Tricorder",
analysing distant objects by the radiation they produced.
Example: while fighting the evil Doctor Strabismus, Dick Daring has
fractured a collar bone. Fortunately kindly Professor Kipple agrees to help
Dirk, for the third time in as many months, and wheels out his Radium Ray
Regenerator to treat him.
At the start of treatment Dirk has 3 hours cumulative exposure in the last
month; he has another three hours of treatment, successfully reducing recovery
time to a week. Unfortunately the cumulative exposure time (now six hours)
overcomes his BODY, causing a flesh wound which will itself take a week to heal.
If this type of ray is in use in a campaign the referee must keep track
of treatments to assess any damage. If adventurers seem to be becoming too
reliant on it, and taking too many risks, it may be advisable to extend the
cumulative period to six months, a year, or even the lifetime dosage.
The rays penetrate fog, and may allow the wearer to find his or her way
through the gloom of a London pea-souper or the smoke of a burning building.
Optionally they are part of the equipment issued to firemen, policemen, etc.
More powerful versions can "see" through water, allowing the crew of a
ship to see submarines and other underwater threats. See George Griffiths'
The Raid of Le Vengeur for a description of a similar device and its
effects. They require as much power as a searchlight. 7.0 - The Cast
What follows is a list of some of the main characters in the stories and plays
on which this collection is based. Many others are mentioned but are not listed
below; they are average people with characteristics of 2-3 and no unusual skills.
The character's name is a link to an illustration if there is one available.
Heroes Anti-Heroes "Bunny" Manders (anti-heroic henchman) [RAF]
Romantic Leads Villains Nikola's Cat [BFF]
Eastover [BFF]
Prendergast [BFF]
Baxter (false clergyman) [BFF]
Appendix 1: About the Authors
James Robinson Planché [V] (1796-1880) was an innovative and
prolific playwright and designer who wrote the English translations of many
operas, campaigned successfully for copyright protection for playwrights, and
was largely responsible for the introduction of period costume to the British
stage; in 1823 he designed costumes and sets for a revival of Shakespeare's
King John, and broke with earlier practice by using authentic costume
instead of modern dress. The Vampire also shows his attention to period
detail, although his use of song may not seem entirely appropriate to the theme
of the play. His History of British Costume was for many years the
standard text on the subject.
I have been unable to learn anything about the career of H. M. Milner
[F]; it is even unclear from the title page if he is the author of the play,
or of the French play on which it is based! The various title changes at different
points in this play suggest that the publishers may have amalgamated the scripts
of two or more productions. Further information would be greatly appreciated.
Leopold Lewis [B] (1828-90) was a solicitor and playwright, best known
for his adaptation of Le juif polonais by Erckmann and Chatrian as
The Bells; it succeeded largely because the role of Mathias was superbly
played by Sir Henry Irving. Three later plays were unsuccessful.
Guy Boothby [BFF] (1867-1905) was an Australian-born writer, resident in the UK from 1894, best known for the
Dr Nikola sequence: A Bid for Fortune (1895), Doctor Nikola (1896), The Lust of Hate (1898),
Dr Nikola's Experiment (1899) and Farewell, Nikola (1901). He wrote nearly fifty other novels,
mostly crime and adventure, although some do have elements of fantasy and the
scientific romance. The Nikola novels were originally published in illustrated
editions, with art mainly by Stanley Wood; Wood was a prolific artist for
Pearson's Magazine and other Pearson publications.
Fred M. White [BUB] (1859-19??) wrote scientific romances and general
fiction for several British magazines in the early 20th century. These included
a series of stories showing some of the dangers facing modern society, collectively
known as the "Doom of London" series (the others were included in FF V).
His only SF novel, The White Battalions (1900) shows Britain gaining a military
advantage from a shift in the Gulf Stream which freezes most of Europe.
White dropped out of sight in the 1920s; late in the preparation of FF V
I learned that his last (non-SF) novel was dated 1930, but it may have been
published posthumously. I am still unable to trace the date of his death, or
locate the owner of copyright if it has not yet lapsed. Any reader with
information on this point is asked to contact me.
E. W. Hornung [RAF] (1866-1921) is best known for the Raffles stories,
collected as The Amateur Cracksman (1899), The Black Mask (1901),
and A Thief In The Night (1905); the new release of the Forgotten
Futures CD-Rom includes all three collections. There was also one Raffles
novel, Mr. Justice Raffles (1909), also on the CD-Rom. Hornung wrote two
Raffles plays; Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman (with E.W. Presbury 1903)
and A Visit From Raffles (with Charles Sanson, 1909).
There have also been Raffles novels and stories by many other authors,
as well as plays, radio and TV series, and films written or adapted by
other hands.
His other works include A Bride from the Bush (1890),
The Boss of Taroomba (1894), Stingaree (1903), No Hero
(1903), The Crime Doctor (1904), and Notes of a Camp Follower on the
Western Front (war memoir, 1919).
During the First World War he served with the Y.M.C.A. in France and
Flanders. He was Conan Doyle's brother-in-law.
Appendix 2: Forgotten Futures Theatre Figures
Cardboard theatres were a staple of Victorian family life; toy theatres
could be found in most nurseries, and replicas are still available today. See
especially the range published by Pollock's Toy Museum of London. In
role-playing games Cardboard Heroes, published by Steve Jackson Games, were
promoted as a substitute for lead figures; the idea was later used for
many other RPGs, such as supplements for Golden Heroes, the James Bond RPG,
Marvel Superheroes, and Paranoia.
Since Forgotten Futures first appeared several users have suggested
producing similar figures for the game. The most recent was Paolo Marino.
This suggestion came in when I was thinking of writing a melodramatic
game, and led to my asking Steve Jackson for permission to use the Cardboard Heroes
layout; the "figures" accompanying this collection are the result. I'm not sure who
suggested making figures for the adventures, rather than providing generic characters;
whoever you are, many thanks! Since they are based on period illustrations they are
monochrome, not colour; since I'm not much of an artist I've left the back of
each figure as a silhouette, rather than trying to draw a proper rear view.
If printed out from a web browser on a 600 DPI printer these images should be
roughly the size of lead miniatures; at 300 DPI they will probably be larger.
You may need to use image manipulation software to adjust the size to get the
best results with your printer.
These figures are assembled by folding them in half and splaying out the base. Use
glue or tape under the base to keep them folded, or stick them to small coins as a
weighted base.
Some of the figures are based on pictures from the FF CD-ROM, others
have been scanned for this collection. Most are intended for use with the adventures provided
with this collection. The main sources are Pearson's Magazine and the Strand Magazine.
Appendix 3: Recommended Reading
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Obvious possibilities are the arrival of the local fire brigade on a training exercise,
or a sudden downpour as the mill starts to burn, drowning the flames.
The referee realises that both would be a disappointing anticlimax. It's much more satisfactory
if some circumstance frees one of the adventurers, but leaves the players the job of escaping from a burning building. Accordingly:
Convection currents from the fire start the windmill
turning, and the villain has left one of the adventurers close enough to the
grindstone to use it on the ropes around her wrist, then free the other adventurers,
allowing them to use one of the mill timbers as a battering ram to break out.
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The other stories mention more tools and a watch whose face was covered in luminous
radium paint; the dim light of the paint could be used as an alternative to a
lantern. The full kit of tools used by burglars, and
especially by safe-breakers, could run to dozens of items.
Stirn's Concealed Vest Camera is a larger and less
sophisticated American alternative; the models available are 6" or 7" wide and
3/4" thick, taking 6 small or 4 large photographs, but the plate must be moved to
the next position manually, not by clockwork. It is marketed for detectives
and reporters, not spies.
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[A Bid For Fortune]
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1 Any mental suggestion must be obeyed if it is essentially harmless. Referees
should allow a saving roll of the victim's MIND versus this power if the action
suggested will in any way harm the victim; for example, if the compulsion will lead
to the Victim's exposure as a murderer.
OR
Ghost can implant one mental suggestion, such as the desire
to read a book or open a cupboard.1
OR
Ghost takes possession of the victim's body, staying in full control
of the victim's actions until it voluntarily leaves or is exorcised.3
2 If SOUL is lost all related skills must be reduced; for instance, an artist
suffers a loss of creativity, a huntsman will find that his mount responds
poorly. Friendships will be broken, lovers decide that the character is "too
cold" to continue the affair, and moral problems will seem unusually
complicated. If SOUL is reduced to zero the effect is disastrous; the victim
is essentially a zombie, incapable of acting without instructions.
3 If a victim is possessed the ghost has full control
of their actions and words; the victim is conscious throughout, but can do or
say nothing to influence events. Any psychic will notice something odd about the
victim, but won't necessarily know what.
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Animal Magnetism was a term coined by Franz Anton Mesmer; it was believed
to be the principle behind mesmerism, which eventually became known
as hypnotism. Mesmer thought that there was a physical force involved,
generally known as magnetic fluid. His early experiments seemed to show
that the fluid could be transferred from one person to another through iron
rods, stored in tubs of water, and used to "charge" trees and other objects.
It was usable to treat injuries and illness, and must thus be a form of stored
life force.
For game purposes, objects can be charged with Magnetic
Fluid (MF), an emanation of SOUL which can be used in three ways; to boost a
character's Mesmerism power (see Villains, above), to allow Mesmerism by remote
control, or to cure injuries and illness.
The ether (sometimes called the "luminiferous ether" or Æther
(æther)) was the invisible, intangible medium that supposedly
supported the transmission of light and other forms of electromagnetic energy through
space, in the same way that sound vibrations travel through a taut wire. If this
theory was correct, electromagnetic
waves would be moving "ripples" in the immobile ether, as water waves are
ripples on the surface of a stationary fluid. The idea that light and other
forms of electromagnetic radiation are particles would be discarded, and the
"photon" would be regarded as a transitory phenomenon released when an
electromagnetic wave strikes a material object.
From 1892 to 1903 mysterious explosions were heard along both coasts
of the English Channel. From 1896 onwards there were also dozens of
reports of airships and flying cities, most notably over the USA, but
also off the British, French, and German coasts. None was connected
with any known aviation project. The stories were seized on by hoaxers
and journalists, and magnified out of all proportion.
In a melodramatic campaign Mystery
Airships must have some or all of the following features:
In 1882 Ignatius Donnelly published Atlantis, the Antediluvian World,
which claimed that Plato's Atlantis was a continent in the Atlantic, was the
Aryan homeland, and was destroyed by advanced weapons. Racist overtones of this
theory were soon picked up by German authors and incorporated into the
general body of writing that eventually became the mystic and mythical
justification for Hitler's excesses. Donnelly's version of Atlantis
also became part of Theosophy and other fringe religions.
For game purposes, a Reborn character may roll SOUL against the Difficulty of
any relevant task; if successful, roll again for results:
In 1800 Franz Josef Gall proposed that the principal emotions were
controlled by 27 regions of the brain. If some of these regions were
well-developed the skull would naturally expand to accommodate them,
and it should thus be possible to determine personality by examining
the shape of the skull. Within a few years this initial scheme was
discredited by the Paris Institute, but that didn't stop his followers
adding more regions and subdividing those that already existed, until
it would have been almost impossible to distinguish an important bump
from a pimple. Meanwhile evidence that the brain simply doesn't work
this way, which was already strong, became overwhelming; for instance,
brain injuries often affected faculties and emotions that (according
to phrenology) were far apart.
For the purposes of a melodramatic campaign both of these sciences work; it
is indeed possible to determine personality from the shape of the head and
appearance.
X-Rays were discovered by Röntgen in 1895 and entered medical use very quickly.
There was immediately some concern that they might be used to look
through walls and invade privacy, or built into spectacles and used to see
through clothing. There was also a theory that they were health-giving.
While the equipment needed to produce medical X-Rays was cumbersome,
radium rays had a similar effect. "Radium Lamps" (usually discharge tubes
with some radium attached to one of the electrodes) were marketed as health
products, in some cases exposing their users to lethal doses of radiation.
Healing rays act like Magnetic Fluid, described above. The treatment time
(in hours) is their Effect, attacking the Difficulty of the injury, any success
halves the recovery time; on a 12 the device burns out and treatment must
be stopped. Unfortunately there's a snag; the cumulative time of all
treatment within the last month also attacks the BODY of the
patient, with the following results:
X-Ray vision requires bulky equipment which can't readily be carried in anything
smaller than a carriage (which must be closed and lightproof) or van. A source
of electricity is needed, such as a generator or large accumulator. It works
somewhat like SONAR; X-Rays are fired at a target, such as a building, and a
small proportion are reflected back to a fluorescent screen mounted above the
projector. Whatever is happening is shown on the screen, but detail is very
fuzzy; far from seeing someone without clothing, it is barely possible to see
the rough layout of a room and anyone in it, and the occupants are seen as skeletons
surrounded by the grey outline of their flesh and any solid objects (such as
watches, guns, coins) in their vicinity. Enough radiation is needed to give
some risk of injuries, exactly as with the healing rays above. The equipment
should be extremely expensive, unreliable, and only available to Government
agencies and, of course, scientific Villains and Heroes who can build their
own.
Passive N-Ray sensors use an aluminium prism and lenses to refract the N-Rays
emitted by objects and spread them onto a graduated screen of N-ray fluorescent
material. If the screen glows it can be interpreted as a source of a given
frequency in a given direction; this can be compared with the frequencies of
known materials to show roughly what is ahead of adventurers. For example,
a glowing point half-way down the screen might be read as "something made of
copper, slate, or pure silver", ahead and to the right, but it isn't possible
to tell which material is involved without further tests. The intensity of the
spot is a rough indication of the amount of material present and its distance,
but it isn't possible to tell if a bright glow means a small quantity nearby
or a large quantity at a distance. Some materials block N-Rays and do not emit
them; this includes wood and (optionally) all organic materials. An N-Ray
sensor isn't much good in a forest.
An active N-Ray sensor for personal use consists of a lamp with a filament that
releases the rays, covered in thin aluminium foil, and aluminium-lensed goggles
with a sheet of N-ray fluorescent material at the focus of the lenses. Most
objects reflect N-rays back to the glasses, but wood and other organic substances do
not. This may allow the wearer to see someone silhouetted against a glowing
background when they are used indoors; out in the open there is little to
reflect N-Rays back, and the wearer may unexpectedly run into trees and other
organic obstacles. In short, this equipment is useful for sneaking around in
a town at night, an adjunct to burglary and other nocturnal activities,
but has few legal uses. Note that the goggles block out all external light,
leaving the wearer in complete darkness if the bulb fails.
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BODY [3], MIND [4], SOUL [3], Athlete (skiing) [5], Brawling [5], Detective [6]
First Aid [5], Marksman [5], Martial Arts (Savate) [5], Melee Weapon [7], Stealth [2]
Equipment: Pistol, handcuffs, sword.
Heroic Traits: Sense of Duty
Quote: "At two o'clock we received information that smugglers had passed the river the previous night with tobacco and gunpowder"
Notes: Christian is an up-and-coming young officer who believes that all crimes,
however old, must be solved. He is probably a little too keen to enforce relatively
unimportant bylaws. Christian isn't typical of melodramatic Heroes, and is present
in the story mainly as a spur to the conscience of Mathias; like all of the other
characters in this play, he is primarily present to reflect the main performance.
BODY [5], MIND [3], SOUL [5], Actor (disguise) [4], Athlete (all sports) [7],
Brawling [8], Detective [4], Drive (Seamanship) [5], Marksman [5], Melee Weapons [7], Stealth [3]
Equipment: Revolver, Winchester repeating rifle, £5,000 (mostly banked), hired yacht (in Britain)
Heroic Traits: Long lost heir
Quote: "You scoundrels!... ...What do you mean by stopping this lady?
Let her go instantly; and you, my friend, just hand over that purse."
Notes: Hatteras is tough, brave - and overestimates his own intelligence.
He has a knack for missing the significance of vital clues until it's just a little too
late, and failing to pass on what he learns to those who might best be able to use it.
However, he has wide experience of the world, especially the Pacific and Australia, and
has the Hero's knack of falling on his feet. He inherits a knighthood during the adventure.
Wilfred Bruce, the Hero of the second book of this series, has similar statistics but
is more intelligent; he is an extremely good actor, and speaks fluent Chinese in
several dialects.
BODY [4], MIND [3], SOUL [4], Athlete (Swimming) [6], Brawling [7], Drive
(small boats) [5], Marksman [6], Melee Weapons [8]
Equipment: Pistol, dagger.
Heroic Traits: Sense of duty.
Quote: Heavens! what do I see -- borne off, and struggling. -- Villain! lose your hold!
Notes: Robert is a servant, bound by his love and his sense of duty. He
saves the life of two Romantic Leads, Lady Margaret and Effie, out of duty to Lady
Margaret and her father and love for Effie. It is never explained why Robert (an Englishman)
is working as a servant in Scotland, or why he habitually carries a pistol; it
seems possible that he has an interesting past, and may be on the run from the
English authorities.
BODY [5], MIND [5], SOUL [4], Actor (disguise) [7], Athlete (Cricket) [8],
Brawling [6], Marksman [7], Thief [7], Stealth [6]
Equipment: Cricket gear, thieves tools, mask, revolver, life preserver, stolen goods.
Anti-Heroic Traits: Loner - in later life Wanted, Notorious
Quote: (on seeing his friend prepare to commit suicide) '...I half
thought you meant it, and I was never more fascinated
in my life. I never dreamt you had such stuffin you, Bunny! No, I'm hanged if
I let you go now. And you'd better not try that game again, for you won't catch
me stand and look on a second time. We must think of some way out of the mess.
I had no idea you were a chap of that sort! There, let me have the gun.'
Notes: Raffles is amoral; he steals, lies, and leads a friend into a life of
crime, for thrills and because he is apparently unwilling or unable to earn an honest living.
He is obsessive about his amateur status, as a cricketer and as a thief, and despises
those who invite him to house parties and other events because of his skill as
a cricketer.
BODY [3], MIND [3], SOUL [3], Artist (Writer) [4], Athlete (climbing) [4],
Brawling [5], Thief [4], Stealth [4]
Equipment: Revolver, life preserver, mask.
Anti-Heroic Traits: Occasional cowardice, sycophancy.
Quote: "Why should the worst come to the worst?" I whispered. "We aren't found out, are we?"
Notes: "Bunny" Manders is Raffle's only partner in crime, a reluctant thief
who has learned to enjoy the excitement of burglary. His behaviour suggests an
unhealthy psychological dependence on Raffles.
BODY [3], MIND [6], SOUL [2], Doctor [9], First Aid [7], Scholar (Alchemy,
Magic, etc.) [9] OR Scientist (Weird) [9]
Equipment: A fully-equipped scientific or alchemical laboratory.
Anti-Heroic Traits: Cad, Doomed.
Quote: "Courage, Frankenstein! glut thy big soul with exultation! -- enjoy a triumph never yet attained by mortal man!"
Notes: Frankenstein is the prototypical mad scientist; spurning all notions
of right and wrong in his search for knowledge, power, and fame. He has deserted
his wife and child and may be about to begin a bigamous relationship; it isn't
clear if Frankenstein is aware that the Prince intends to offer him Rosaura's
hand in marriage. He appears to have a cowardly streak. He is doomed, but doesn't know it.
It should be remembered that the version of Frankenstein portrayed in the play
is very different from Mary Shelley's book.
BODY [3], MIND [3], SOUL [5], Actor (singing) [6], Driving (boat) [4], First Aid [5]
Equipment: A small boat
Romantic Traits: Beautiful
Quote: "Mercy on me! My lord, I -- I know not what to say. My heart beats so that-- Oh, pray, leave me, my lord."
Notes: Effie is possibly the most capable of the romantic leads listed
here; she resists a vampire's hypnosis, although she is unable to overcome it
completely, and helps to rescue her fiancee when he is hunted as a murderer. She
proves herself a brave and resourceful woman, a fit bride for Robert.
BODY [3], MIND [3], SOUL [3], Artist (needlework) [4] Riding [6]
Equipment: Horse etc.
Romantic Traits: Parental control, Mesmerised, Heiress
Quote: [Shuddering, and aside.] That countenance. The phantom of last night! [ Relapses into insensibility.
Notes: Lady Margaret gets a raw deal in this story; she is mesmerised by a
vampire and almost married to him, her rescuer does not love her, and her
father is nearly driven insane. Presumably she will later go on to happiness,
but it does not occur in the play.
BODY [2], MIND [2], SOUL [4], no relevant skills
Equipment: -
Romantic Traits: Unhappily married (deserted), Poverty
Quote: Oh, no, my father, no! -- Do not curse him. Curse not the husband of your Emmeline -- the father of her child!
Notes: For much of the play Emmeline is burdened with a small child and lost in
a forest in a thunderstorm, and is often unconscious. This does not give her many
opportunities to shine; she has a kind loving heart, and is prepared to forgive
almost anything, but this might be considered to be evidence of stupidity and/or
desperation, rather than anything more positive.
BODY [3], MIND [3], SOUL [5], Athlete (golf) [5], Riding [6]
Equipment: -
Romantic Traits: Parental control, Heiress
Quote: "..my heart told me I must see you at once, whatever happened."
Notes: Phyllis is old enough to marry, but too young to do so against her father's
wishes. She is theoretically chaperoned by an elderly companion, Miss Thompson, but
seems to have little trouble evading her. She suffers the common Romantic Lead's
problems of being urged towards an unwanted marriage, forbidden to meet her
True Love, etc. She is kidnapped (and taken on what appears to be a rather pleasant sea cruise)
towards the end of the novel.
Gladys Medwin, the Romantic Lead of the second Dr. Nikola story,
has a similar personality but appears to be slightly brighter, and has a slightly more obliging
family. She is only in the story briefly.
BODY [3], MIND [4], SOUL [4], Brawling [4], Business [6], Melee Weapon [5]
Equipment: An inn and its contents (earlier a lime kiln)
Villainous Traits: Doomed, Wealthy, Tormented by conscience
Quote: [Aside.] Would anyone believe that the mere talk about the
Jew could bring on such a fit? Fortunately the people about here are such
idiots they suspect nothing.
Notes: Mathias is a wealthy innkeeper and burgomaster with a dreadful
secret; much of his wealth stems from the murder of an innocent Jewish merchant
when he was a young man.
BODY [5], MIND [4], SOUL [5], Brawling [7], Melee Weapon [7], Mesmerism [8], Riding [8]
Equipment: Sword, a castle and its equipment and personnel
Villainous Traits: Doomed, Uncanny Powers, Aura of Evil, Rich
Quote: [Aside.] "She's mine, my prey is in my clutch,-- the choicest, crowning victim! -- Ha! revive, my bride."
Notes: Ruthven is a spiritual Vampire; he has sold his soul for immortality,
but must maintain his undead life by periodically consuming the souls of innocent brides.
He Mesmerises them (as described above) then uses his SOUL to attack theirs; each
attack takes one round and permanently drains 1 SOUL if successful; if the victim's
SOUL is reduced to zero she dies.
If he is killed before the expiry of his unnaturally extended "life" he will
somehow rise again if his ring is thrown into water at moonlight; it seems possible
that the ring is also an important element in his vampirism, since he gives it
to his victims as he weds them.
Ruthven seems to have none of the usual "Hammer Horror" vampiric limitations;
he is unaffected by daylight, seems to have no problems with water, mirrors, or
shadows, and there is no evidence of difficulties with garlic etc. However, he
does not appear to have superhuman strength or any unusual combat abilities; in
fact, he is killed so often that the ratings above may be optimistic.
BODY [8], MIND [3], SOUL [2], Brawling [10], Melee Weapons [8]
Wrestles, Effect [10], A:B, B:KO/I, C:I/C
All attacks to the Monster are at Effect -4 due to its strange metabolism.
Equipment: None
Quote: (mimed) The Monster expresses that his kindly feelings towards the human race have been met by scorn, abhorrence, and violence, that they are all now converted into hate and vengeance; that Julio shall be his first victim...
Notes: The Monster is driven to its crimes by the rejection of the human race. It isn't
precisely an Anti-Hero or Villain, more an implacable unnatural force. It is
included here for convenience, since it doesn't really fit into any of the
categories suggested in this section.
Mary Shelley's monster is rather different from the creature presented
in the play.
BODY [5], MIND [7], SOUL [5], Brawling [7], Doctor [9], Melee Weapon [7],
Mesmerism [7], Scholar (numerous occult topics) [9], Scientist [8]
Equipment: Medical kit, cat
Villainous Traits: Foreign, Evil Genius, Aura of Evil, Master of Disguise,
Strange Pets, Uncanny Powers, Rich
Quote: "I think you will allow, Mr Hatteras, that half the world is born
for the other half to prey upon!"
Notes: Doctor Nikola is as formidable an opponent as Moriarty. He spins
elaborate schemes involving numerous henchmen and the manipulation of dozens
of innocent victims, and at first sight appears to have no qualms about the
latter's fate. However, his interests are not entirely evil; his main aim in
the crimes described in [BFF] is to recover a mysterious artefact which later
books show was stolen from him (although he was not its rightful owner), and he
does not seem to hold a grudge once he achieves his goal.
Nikola's uncanny powers include mesmerism and fortune telling, using a bowl
of liquid instead of a crystal ball. He appears to have some form of magical or
telepathic link with his cat.
Nikola's quest continues in
Dr. Nikola, where it becomes apparent that he intends to use his
knowledge to benefit mankind, and possibly prolong his own life, and is showing
signs of becoming an Anti-Hero or even a Hero. In this book he also appears to
be able to project visual images telepathically and read surface thoughts from
muscle posture and other subtle clues.
BODY [2], MIND [2], SOUL [3], Brawling [3], Linguist [3]
Villainous Traits: Aura of Evil, Uncanny Powers
Notes: A huge cat with uncanny green eyes. The cat seems to have a
telepathic link with Nikola, who is apparently aware of anything it sees.
Optionally it is truly magical or Satanic in origin, and can only be harmed by
silver, holy water, or some other special attack.
In Dr. Nikola the cat acts as a psychic medium, using a planchette and other
medium's tools under Nikola's direction)
BODY [3], MIND [4], SOUL [2], Actor [5], Brawling [4], Business [6], Thief [6]
Equipment: Forgery equipment
Quote: "Here is the letter you wanted."
Notes: An American who appears to function as Nikola's quartermaster; he makes
arrangements for the use of houses and equipment, and does the ground work for
many of his schemes.
BODY [4], MIND [3], SOUL [2], Brawling [7], Melee Weapons [6], Marksman [8],
Thief [6]
Equipment: Revolver, rifle, Bowie knife.
Quote: "...as you are likely to be our guests for some
considerable time to come, there will be no need for explanation."
Notes: Prendergast is pock marked, and described as having cruel yet smiling eyes.
It seems likely that he has sociopathic tendencies, which Nikola keeps under
partial control by drugs or hypnosis.
BODY [2], MIND [4], SOUL [2], Actor [5], Brawling [3], Business [5],
Doctor [3], Linguist (Greek, Latin, Pidgin English) [5], Thief [6]
Equipment: Bible, various drugs
Quote:"No -- no -- you are quite mistaken, I assure you. I never knew the
Andamans."
Notes: Baxter seems the most despicable of Nikola's henchmen; he is a
poisoner, obviously not a man of action, and appears to be something of a
coward. Nevertheless he is trusted with a prolonged impersonation, and seems to
have a good general education, sufficient to act as a nobleman's tutor. It is
likely that he has a long career as a confidence man.
BODY [3], MIND [4], SOUL [2], Business [7], Thief [6]
Equipment: Copy of The Messenger's cipher
Quote:"Eli, my boy, how much money could we make if we could scare
South Africans down five or six points for a week?"."
Notes: A former waiter turned financier on the crest of a booming stock
market. Inclined to worry. He instigates a fraud that leads to a stock market panic.
BODY [3], MIND [3], SOUL [1], Business [5], Thief [6]
Equipment: Cigars, diamond studs
Quote:"Just as many millions as we could stagger under. Makes my mouth
like sawdust to think of it. But pass out a bottle of champagne."
Notes: Described as "a fat man with a big jaw and a merciless mouth.",
formerly a butcher, he is Ericsson's partner in crime.
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The first two sheets contain figures for the first adventure, Steam Pirates
Sheets 3-5 mostly contain figures for the second adventure, The Wages of Sin:
Characters for the third adventure Wheels of Fear:
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A useful study of characters on the borderline between Hero and Antihero;
subjects include Bulldog Drummond, The Saint, and others. There are numerous
quotes which can usefully be added to the dialogue of melodramatic adventures.
A six-part comic in which a strange assortment of famous late 19th and early 20th
century fictional characters join forces to fight an evil that threatens Britain.
Enormous fun, but takes melodrama to the point of parody.
Two studies of the major characters of popular fiction. Adventure Heroes
tends to concentrate on American heroic subjects, while Imaginary People looks
at characters from all genres and of all nationalities.
A study of John Buchan, Sapper, and Dornford Yates, three
influential authors of Heroic fiction in this genre.
A critical and sometimes harsh examination of the English crime story
from the 19th century onwards. It includes some detailed analysis of the
sensationalist elements of this type of fiction which may be very useful.
