LeviathanTempest:ChapterFive

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By the time he reaches the docks, he's already out of breath. His knee hurts with every step, so he takes away the torn fabric to expose the wound. It has already scarred over, a white, translucent tissue that radiates an impossible cold inside his leg. You can still see the shape of the sucker, right where the tentacle struck him. He winces as he lets his pants back over the wound.

Trying to figure out where he is, he looks around the deserted port. Most of the lights have been taken out, along the years, by bored youth or by methodical professionals who wanted as few witnesses as possible for what they were doing. The smell of brine, and gasoline, and garbage fills his head. It's not altogether unpleasant.

Then he hears it. A low rumbling, like the squirming of blind, chitinous things rubbing against each other under the earth. Maybe to other people, it would be revolting. To him, it sounds almost melancholy.

He pulls out his pistol and starts walking until he reaches a wide, round door that leads underneath the easternmost dock. For a moment, he almost gives up. How could he possibly even contemplate doing this?

But then he sees, in his memory, the crushed hand of the girl, her smudged make-up, her sad eyes over what remained of her mouth.

Slowly, silently, he opens the door, and the noise gets louder and louder. He glimpses eyes in there, a bearded face, and the remains of a two-piece suit, but in a grotesque fashion, it's the vast array of antennae that are familiar to him.

He takes a breath and steps in. «It's over, Dad. I'm going to have to make you stop.»


Campaign Types

Where Hell meets Good Intentions – The Idealists

One of Leviathan's themes is the concern about motivations and desires. One of the ways that this plays out is in the focus on power – having it, using it, and abstaining from use. Unlike Mage, which focuses on the ethical concerns of power as an absolute quality, Leviathan is more concerned with the possession of power which can only be deployed cruelly. The Tribe has the power of demigods, but it manifests itself in a distinctly vicious fashion. A Leviathan has more power to distort or destroy than they do to build or mend. In some games, this is a matter of temptation – “what would you do if you absolutely could just force your will on others?” However, in this campaign style, the attempt to use evil means for good ends is a primary concern.

The Idealists campaign type deals explicitly with the concepts of youth, dissatisfaction, and powerlessness. The last is not, in the case of members of the Tribe, the lack of power, but rather the lack of a voice. In this campaign model, characters are assumed to be in positions of weakness and marginality, but also to be motivated by a desire to establish some more correct or ideal world. Perhaps they're concerned with the environment, or social justice, or political reform. The reasons are secondary to a primary thematic concern: violence enacted for just motives is practically indistinguishable from any other kind of violence. In this campaign type, the motives of the characters come into conflict with their ability to be efficacious. How much wickedness does a noble ideal justify? For a member of the Tribe, whose mastery of their own mind and emotions is tenuous, is is possible to distinguish between a desire to reform the world through violence, and a desire to destroy it?

One of the key elements of this style of campaign is cultivating a connection between the characters and their causes, but the cause-as-movement and the cause-as-ideal are not necessarily identical. People get involved in ideals and movements for all sorts of reasons, and not all of them are noble. This campaign style operates in that uncertain space. Some people light fires to oppose their oppressors and break their chains. Some people just like to see buildings burn. A member of the Tribe can never be really certain which they are. A good backdrop for this sort of campaign will be oppressive, homogenous, and emotionally unsatisfying, emphasizing the diversity and vitality of the marginal. The “movement” that the characters participate in might be focused on a specific issue, but it's not even necessary to be a cohesive movement. The Cohort might be in a community of artists, or a small ethnic neighborhood. The important thing is that they're in a position of weakness and presented with an adversary that seemingly deserves everything they can throw at it. Violence can be a source of mixed impressions – something troubling but also beautiful.

For a campaign that's focused on acting, the primary focus of this style is not necessarily action. Far more important than the destruction of the adversary is the consideration of moments of intense, violent emotion, and the difficult way in which actions are contextualized by motives – or, more accurately, the difficulty of discerning one's true motives. Ideally, the characters will be uncertain about their own motives, permitting a great deal of exploration of their desires, both noble and not-so-noble.

The Demigodfather – Weird Underworld

Leviathan focuses a great deal on marginal figures, and while the primary assumptions dealt more with the disenfranchised and isolated, the margins of society are also home to the things that it fears. Adopting the theme of threatening margins, it's possible to run a game that embraces the Leviathan's role as not merely a metaphorical opponent of society, but a professional one. Criminals are marginal, and the more successful of them have a certain mystique. Highwaymen were canonized as folk heroes, mob bosses as paragons of a certain dangerous aesthetic. Most Leviathans are already criminals in some fashion – why not go “all in?”

The beauty of criminality for members of the Tribe is that it turns one of their most troubling traits – the ease at which they succeed in wicked and violent endeavors – and makes it into an unqualified advantage. The “weird underworld” of film and folklore has a certain respect for the power to do evil. The unrestrained exercise of cruelty and viciousness assumes the status of an emblem of personal freedom – the ability to do and be whatever one desires. The appeal of the diabolic lies in the fulfillment of desire, and Leviathans are nothing if not capable of breaking others in the pursuit of their desires.

A good approach for a campaign of this type focuses on the ways in which the criminal mystique is a construct, a re-evaluation of actions in an attempt to impart beauty on the grotesque. When a mafia hitman takes on a nickname or establishes some signature, he's not merely building up a professional reputation – he's trying to establish an identity for himself that he finds palatable. Perhaps he spares women, or children. Perhaps he won't kill a priest. All of these elements of “criminal honor” serve to insulate the criminal from the ways in which his actions are abhorrent to society as a whole. This process is analogous to the ways in which members of the Tribe damn themselves by degrees, accepting flimsy excuses to put a face of righteousness on their actions.

Crafting a “weird underworld” can be a great deal of fun, and when well-executed you should have a strong cast of colorful characters – both those of the players and their fellow inhabitants of the underworld. The major players in a fictional underworld always have a certain element of the mythic around them – think of a colorful mob boss from the comics, or Keyser Soze. The player characters can fulfill this sort of role, their mystique as much a function of their role in the criminal world as it is of their actual mystical nature. Cults might be gangs, or gangs become Cults. It's not even necessary for the characters to be professional criminals – as long as they are in some way entangled with the underworld, the Wake ensures that they'll be considered players in the game.

The concept of a glamorous coating on horrible actions can be a great source of internal conflict for the characters. A good way to achieve this is to focus on the contrast between the fictional and the actual. The characters can be confronted with the real, blood-and-guts outcomes of their actions, while simultaneously being presented with the “scrubbed” narrative of their exercise of power from other sources. In general, the goal is to strike a balance between “action” scenes, in which the characters achieve their ends using the vast resources available to them, and get to enact their legendary status, and “introspective” elements, as characters are confronted with their acts outside of the context of the “criminal myth” which restructures them. Characters might deal with more outrageous or violent criminals, but they're just as likely to come into conflict with criminals of opportunity or necessity. Ideally, there will be elements of uncertainty and a suggestion of the ways in which the “criminal myth” fails to cover up the squalor, violence, and hopelessness of the underworld, and the doubt and uncertainty, even self-loathing, that accompany it.

Back to Basics – The Bronze Age

This by itself is not strictly a campaign type so much as a flavor that can be amended to another campaign. Historical venues such as the cradle of civilization or the fictional Bhogavati of the Vasuki can serve as a backdrop to any flavor of campaign, from intense high-action warfare in Babylon to political maneuvering in imperial Rome. Besides certain obvious effects on the type of characters that are likely to be appropriate, there are two major changes that a game in the distant past will be subject to. Firstly, the character's concerns about visibility are shifted considerably. In a setting in which intense religious fervor and superstition are considered typical, members of the Tribe have less of an air of the alien. In place of this, however, they have to deal with a world in which the memory of the Tribe has not faded, instead being canonized in myth and folklore. There are considerably fewer hurdles to demonizing a member of the Tribe if people are predisposed to believe in demons.

The other change has more to do with a character's internal state. While the players obviously (well, hopefully) will retain the morals of a modern person, the actions of a Leviathan in the past are subject to an older set of ethical standards. Part of the internal conflict that members of the Tribe must undergo deals with the urge to victimize others, an urge that is further stigmatized by their being placed in a civilization that has censured such urges and actions. Comparatively, a Leviathan in the bronze age is likely to have a different opinion of violence, as will his peers. This can exempt the characters from certain emotional themes, especially concerns about guilt, but it's not necessary. A Roman in antiquity might have been raised to think differently about the ethics of slavery, but that doesn't mean that he or she buys into what they learned.

A particularly “out there” possibility in this scenario is letting the characters take the roles of Leviathans in Bhogavati during its decline. They will have resources and power unimaginable to a modern Leviathan, but also be in contention with a large number of similarly-powerful members of the Tribe, including Legions with grotesque beliefs and desires, driven even further into fanaticism by the impending havoc. The insanity and violence of the last days of Bhogavati have a distinct and hellish aesthetic, with conjured storms scouring colossal, blood-stained temples, and dozens of cultists sacrificed to empower feuding Legions. Ideally, the characters will get caught up in the madness, playing on the core theme of the use and abuse of power – the players' Cohort will struggle to maintain their sanity in the face of greater and greater levels of political and physical violence, constantly tempted to participate in the carnage to stifle rivals once and for all.

War is Hell – The Pacific Theater