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.

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

Mystery Archeology - Exploration

In certain ways, this overlaps thematically with elements of Mage. The general gist is that the Tribe is, almost uniformly, preoccupied with history - their history and that of the Tribe as a whole. Clues about a Leviathan's nature, his ancestors, and the lost world of the Progenitors are all located both in human historical records, folklore, and relics of the fallen world. In this campaign style, the focus shifts towards the exploration of these sources, and the relentless pursuit of knowledge. The characters' Cohort is caught up in the search for some foundation of truth and stability on which to build themselves a future. This search can take place as actual archeology or in the study of folklore and history. For the purposes of this campaign style, however, the key element becomes travel.

The idea is that the clues won't come to the characters. Even if someone out there knew what they were looking for, they're unlikely to scan an ancient clay tablet or extensively photograph a newly-discovered ruin. Some of the knowledge that the characters seek might well be beyond the reach of normal mortal actors - sunk deep into the depths, or deliberately concealed by hybrids or other members of the Tribe. Regardless of whether the characters are looking for lost relics or ancient manuscripts, the point is to keep them moving. There are a great number of strange little places in the world, and the idea is to make use of them to provide a sense of mystery. As with most stories about the Tribe, this style runs best at the margins - an isolated town near the ruins of its centuries-old predecessor, or, more exotically, a tiny village deep in the jungle or otherwise insulated from the modern world, where folklore of twisted monsters is still an element of daily life, and little superstitions honor or ward off the supernatural. The use of multiple small towns allows for each to have a distinct flavor, while preserving the overall sense of a big, strange world, full of little pockets of weirdness, seemingly adrift in time.

These little pockets, in addition to providing a strong aesthetic background, provide the primary threats and conflicts to the characters. In addition to mundane concerns about insular communities coming into contact with disruptive outsiders (and it doesn't get much more disruptive than a Cohort), there's the possibility of other supernatural beings or forces that surround these relics and ruins. Rival members of the Tribe and teams of Marduk researchers might show up, but the threats might already be there - that quaint little village has its own Leviathan demigod, and he doesn't appreciate interlopers. Going deep into the wilderness presents its own threats in terms of isolation and inter-Cohort conflict, and also provides ample opportunities to run into clans of hybrids or even stranger threats. It's also not out of line to have the Cohort get a "false lead," and have whatever supernatural oddity present in the region have nothing at all to do with the Tribe and its cousins - ancient spirits or demonic entities, or pretty much any other element of the World of Darkness (if you're up to a bit of a crossover) - are all possibilities.

In terms of theme, this style deals mostly with the idea of self-exploration. In fact, it externalizes the process. The biggest hurdle, then, becomes finding ways for the finds of the Cohort to be interesting and revelatory without providing the full picture or, worse, dictating an absolute truth. The last might provide interesting fodder for a game in which characters align themselves in face of their new knowledge, but any "final answer" will obviously render further physical exploration somewhat redundant. It might be possible, with some difficulty, to "weave" a series of hints and clues throughout the finds as a sort of roadmap, leading towards the campaign's conclusion. Ultimately, though, the meat of the game lies less in what is discovered and more in the act of discovery. The focus should always remain on how the past is relevant to the characters, not on what the past is or means. The idea is that the characters are struggling to make an identity, not discover one.

Brawl of Cthulu - High-Action

Of course, it's not a requirement that members of the Tribe keep to the shadows. While they have many enemies, a Leviathan remains rather solidly at the top of the food chain in comparison to most of the antagonists. The Marduk society, rival cryptids, and obsessed hybrids all rely on the fact that most Leviathans are isolated and anxious. A Cohort composed of player characters doesn't have to take it lying down. A single Leviathan has considerable power, and a group working in concert is more than a match for all but the most dire of threats. In this campaign style, the potential to fight back is embraced. The Cohort takes a proactive view towards its enemies and attempts to bring the fight to them.

There are a couple ways to run with this. One practical method is to place the Cohort in a location, and throw threats at them. Perhaps there's something about the region that's attracting people and things "in the know" about the Tribe - some newly-discovered ruin or offshore breach into the Rift. Another possibility is that the Cohort comes into conflict with a well-established Legion, whose plans for the area the Cohort opposes, and whose diverse resources (Cults, lahmasu, other Leviathans, etc.) present a lot of options for threats.

A more mobile option is to unite this campaign style with "werid archeology," and divert focus from weird and horrific locales to more straightforward threats - in place of an insular cult of cannibals, for instance, the characters might be faced with something sealed inside a temple, or a clan of hybrids that still guards it after millenia. That's not to say that a high-action game can't be subtle or mysterious - merely that the basic assumption in this play style is that the characters have a hammer and they're going to make nails out of anyone that opposes them.

Thematically, this plays with the typical approach to violence in Leviathan and the World of Darkness as a whole. The assumption in most other campaign styles is that the Tribe's ability to do violence is equal parts attractive and repulsive - that attention will be paid to matters of guilt and that violent acts will be presented as having a mixed effect on characters. The mechanics for recovering Ichor through destruction are intended to highlight the ways in which a Leviathan will be both instinctually satisfied by violence while competing with the intellectual comprehension of his or her actions. In this campaign style, it might be better to downplay that element - it's directly at odds with the action-movie approach to problem solving. In its place, the characters might be more preoccupied with morality and drawing boundaries - finding ways to establish identities of "heroic" stature, using their divine blood to accomplish great feats. In this case, the primary focus becomes the concern with reclaiming the Tribe's legacy and purging past evils - either by righting ancient wrongs or, more literally, by taking down ancient and monstrous remnants of the Progenitor's world. A hopeful atmosphere wouldn't be out of place - a lot of Leviathan focuses on the anxiety of change, but it's also a source of promise and wonder.

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.

Upon the Salty Sea - Nautical Cohorts

A recurrent phenomenon is the appearance of nautical cohorts, based on a riverboat or ocean-going vessel. It makes sense for Leviathans, who crave isolation from humanity and are deeply attracted to bodies of water, to just go sailing away from everything. A good number of younger Leviathans spend some time on ships but are quickly frustrated by human companionship, and attempt to correct this with all-Leviathan (or almost all) crews. It usually works, for a time.

Out in the ocean, you can take the time to hear yourself think. There are immensities where you can shapeshift into your most primordial form, where no-one can look upon you and be horrified. It's a relief to some of the Tribe, while others fear it would be too easy to lose themselves in this way. Sea life is also a hard experience. There is constant work, little sleep and many dangers, from storms to pirates to close inspection by the coast guards. But it is also a way to travel to undiscovered locales and investigate rumors of Progenitor traces or eldritch relics.

Modern maritime traffic is an unnoticed giant. 95% of all cargo transits through maritime means: it is the cheapest way to move people or things. It's also fairly slow and unpredictable, which suits most Leviathans just fine. A number of nautical Cohorts take on traditional shipping work. A modern ship can shift thousands of tons of merchandise with as little as 8 or 9 (overworked) crewmen. You can easily crew a large ship with a Cohort and its members' Beloved. A traditional ship has a Captain, or master, who runs the whole operation and represents the vessel owner. He supervises the departments. The Deck department, headed by a Chief officer or First officer, runs the crew, oversees the cargo and navigates the ship. The Engine department, as the name indicates, takes care of powering the craft, and is directed by the Chief Engineer. Ships which take care of passengers (usually ferries or cruise ships) have a Steward's department which deals with their needs. Many ships also have a Cook and/or a Purser (who buys and supervises equipment and consumables). Most of the activity on a ship is taken in watches, to ensure that there is constant vigilance should anything go wrong.

Shipping is a highly bureaucratised activity. Everyone with any rank has to have the relevant licenses, trips must be planned and declared beforehand, and there are hosts of rules and regulations to follow. It is possible to skirt the edges of legality, but the hassle is such that nautical Leviathans who can afford to turn away work prefer to find other ways to run ships. And there are plenty. Science vessels can gather data from biology to meteorology and be away for months on end. Some fishing vessels similarly trawl the bottom of the ocean, where there are many things that could interest a Leviathan. There are a few communities out there living on boathouses, some of which are ocean-worthy. It would be very hard to arrange for a military vessel crewed entirely by Leviathans and their allies, but that would be a very formidable force indeed.

In any case, a number of small ports have developed a support network for such vessels. They are referred to as Coves, and are usually run by a handful of Leviathans who offer their cousins shelter and discretion in exchange for cash or for a share in the crew's discoveries. They are adept at forging necessary paperwork and can be very useful, but crews should be aware that the Cove is very much foreign territory for them and home turf for the locals. Some of the larger ports also have a few "in the know" people, and therefore hold a Cove as an underworld within the big city port.

Thematically, this is one of the most open types of campaign. It is well suited to an episodic game, where characters travel to a place, enjoy the exotic locale, find out there is a problem there, solve it and sail away in time for the end credits. There are strong themes of freedom and isolation in such a game, and about finding your place within the group. It is also a way to provide enforced unity in the Cohort: everyone depends on each other. If a character joins in, there are imemdiate ways to integrate her in the current crew. Similarly, if a character leaves, dealing with their absence can be the basis for an entire scenario. If you can survive the weather, the loneliness, and the close proximity with cousins who are just as monstrous as you, it's a good life out there on the waves.

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

The Pacific Theater of World War II was one of the largest battlefields in the history of mankind. The war was a continuation of the Sino-Japanese war and started with the Japanese invasion of French Indochina, Hong Kong and most of Southeast Asia. After that, and especially after the attack on the American base at Pearl Harbor, most of the war was «island-hopping»: a bloody, close-quarters conquest of island after island, parcel after parcel.

It is also one of the most complete war experiences you could wish to relive, using as it did the full extent of navy, air force, marines, infantry, armored vehicles, artillery, spying, insurgency and counter-insurgency, communications and cryptography available at the time, culminating in the only offensive uses of atomic weapons in the history of mankind. Conflict abounds in such a period, from full-fledged battle to black ops, submarine pursuit, spying operations, to smuggling and law enforcement. It's a world of death, blood and fire, and Leviathans are right at home in it. It is also a world where mortals are armed and can pose a great threat to what they may perceive as experimental weapons of the enemy. It's also a time of contrast, especially when comparing the simple lives of local populations with the gigantic and byzantine machinery that is a marching army.

There are two great thematic ways to use this period. The first is to take inspiration from the pulp literature of the time. Pulp means that things are simple, but it doesn't mean they are light-hearted. In it, men are men, women are fatally dangerous, criminals are without remorse, and death is cheap. Great terrifying monsters lurk in the jungles, which are full of degenerate natives twisted by the unholy abominations they worship. Whichever side of the war you are on, those on your side are good-hearted and brave, while the enemy is cowardly and treacherous. It's an opportunity for Leviathans to experience their monstrous puberty by conquering their fear and growing wise with the world, although more than probably jaded and cynical.

The other option is to take a cue from more recent drama and scholarship, showing that the war was essentially a place of lost moral compass. The Japanese are renowned for the atrocities they committed on the civilian and POW populations, but the Allies (American, British, Dutch, Australian, Philippine, and even a few Free French) were hardly blameless either. Some of the commanders were renowned for their massive ego that led them to tactical and strategic blunders costing thousands of lives. Here, a Leviathan can use the Wake to inspire fanatical devotion in the troops he leads and utterly crush the spirit of whoever opposes them. It's a world of unchecked opportunity for domination and violence, and only conscious moral choices can bring you back from the brink.



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