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Wednesday, November 17, 2021
The Saga Continues: Bodil's Gap Releases in Print
My boast is thus: that the saga of my deeds will be five-hundred pages long, and bound together will measure thicker than an oak strake!
Last week I announced that Bodil's Gap was coming to print, and today I am proud to announce that it has arrived. Bodil's Gap is now available as a physical book through print-on-demand. It's been a long road getting to this point, and glad I am to have done it. The physical book is a joy to hold, and the art of the incredible Anton Vitus looks great in the printed format.
Wednesday, November 10, 2021
Bodil's Gap Is Coming to Print
Exciting news! Today I received my proof copy of the Bodil's Gap book in the mail. Once I go through this thing to make sure there are no fatal errors and approve it for production, Bodil's Gap will be available for print-on-demand through Drivethrurpg.
Even knowing the page count ahead of time, I'm still shocked at how thick a book this turned out to be. I'm very excited to be reaching the end of this process, and I hope anyone who holds the finished product will be as pleased by it as I am.
Going through the process of getting Bodil's Gap to print has definitely been a learning experience, and if I ever do a second book for print-on-demand, I expect the whole thing to proceed a lot more smoothly. Until then, watch this space for news of the print version's final release, and for word of a new project I'm already working on!
Thursday, July 15, 2021
Folk Tales of the Gap - Fox-Bragi and the Troll
There once lived in the Old Lands a man about whom many stories are told, and this is one of them.
Bragi was his name, and he was a man famous for his quick wit and good sense. So clever was he that those who knew him called him Fox-Bragi, and he was foremost among his friends and neighbours in turning any situation to his advantage. Many there were who sought his advice, and he gave it freely to those who were close to him.
Because of the high regard in which Bragi was held, he was often invited to spend the winter nights as a guest of honour in the home of one or another of his neighbours. It so happened that one winter, while he was the guest of his foster-brother, Trygve, Bragi came into disagreement with one of the other guests staying there, a man named Snorri Roskvasson. Snorri was a merchant who had dealings with Bragi’s foster-brother, but it soon became obvious to Bragi that their dealings were very one-sided and that Snorri did not treat in good faith with Trygve, but instead took advantage of his kindly nature to charge him high prices for poor goods.
At once the two men found themselves at odds. Whenever Snorri would counsel his host one way, Bragi would counsel against him. As Trygve was keener to follow the advice of his foster-brother, Snorri soon became quite short-tempered, and it became clear to Bragi that the merchant would make himself Bragi’s enemy.
Come spring, Snorri was bitingly furious, and as soon as the snow melted enough for the roads to be clear, he departed from Trygve’s farm in bitterness. It was for this reason that Bragi chose to travel home through the woods rather than taking the road, for he feared that Snorri would gather his men and wait along the shortest path to waylay him.
The way through the woods was long, however, for the only paths through the thick underbrush were the trails of deer. Roots and badger holes lay themselves out under Bragi’s feet, while thick branches blocked out the sun above. Soon enough, Bragi found himself faced with a small stream that cut between two steep banks on either side, which he had to leap over in order to continue on his way. As soon as Bragi’s feet touched the far side, however, a deep voice sounded from out the trees that loomed over the water.
“Who are you to trespass on my yard?” spoke the voice in the tone of two heavy stones grinding against one another. “This is a despicable crime, and you must be punished at once for it.”
“I am Bragi, called Fox-Bragi by some,” said Fox-Bragi. “Who are you, then, that names this patch of woods his yard? I have never heard of any man who made a home so far from his neighbours except that he was an outlaw without claim to land or property, so I think that there can be no crime in my coming this way. I have no wish for strife, however, so if you show yourself I will be happy to trade something for passage through these woods.”
“It will not do,” bellowed the voice, and it seemed to Bragi that it was the sound of the whole bank on which he stood collapsing into the stream. “Your words have only insulted me, and for that and your trespass I think I will swallow you in two mouthfuls.”
With those words, there came out of the trees a hulking and hideous troll as tall and as broad as a milk shed, with a long tufted tail and a bird’s nest behind his ear. Bragi looked at his teeth and saw that the troll could indeed swallow him up in two bites if Bragi were to be caught in his grip.
“That is a shame,” Bragi said, thinking quickly. “I have been away at my foster-brother’s house all winter, and have not yet been home to have my first bath of the spring—you will make yourself quite sick by eating me, dirty as I am.”
“That is no matter,” said the troll as it came forward. “I will wash you in the stream before swallowing you.
“You could well,” said Bragi. “And I would thank you for it, for I have no wish to go to my grave in this state. But then you would have to eat me raw, as I can see you have no cooking pot, and I fear I would be a most unpleasant meal—far worse than if properly boiled with onions and carrots.”
“Then I will bring you home for my daughter to clean you and cook you,” said the troll, stepping forward again. “Only hold still so I may grab you without trouble.”
“That would set my mind at ease,” said Bragi. “If you swear to bring me to your house to be cleaned before supper, then I accept wholeheartedly.”
“Yes, yes, I swear it,” said the troll. “You have done me a favour by your warnings, so I will bring you to my house to be cleaned before supper.”
“That is well,” said Bragi. “Then, as you have invited me to your home for a bath and a meal, I am your guest, and by the laws of hospitality you may not harm me.”
At this the troll raged and gnashed his teeth and shattered a stand of oaks with his fist—for even trolls fear to become oath-breakers.
“Very well,” said the troll, already thinking about his revenge. “You may stay in my home for one night, and you will be bathed before supper just as I said.” And with that he picked Bragi up in one huge hand and carried him swiftly through the woods. Soon they arrived at the troll’s home, which was built into the side of a rocky hill. A huge overhang of stone protected the troll’s door and porch from the rays of the sun, the last light of which shone down on the house—for no trees grew on the bald rock of the hill. Slinking from shadow to shadow to avoid being turned to stone, the troll crept under the safety of the overhang and up to his door. Stepping in, he closed it behind him and made it fast with a heavy beam too large for Bragi to lift.
“Daughter!” the troll bellowed at once upon entering. “Come here!”
As soon as he shouted, into the room there came another troll as huge and hideous as her father, with huge crooked teeth and a bat living in her left nostril.
“This man is our guest,” the troll said. “Take him to the bath and do not let him out of the water until every speck of him has been scrubbed red!”
With that the troll’s daughter snatched Bragi up and hauled him off to another room under the hill, where a pool of water sat in a stone basin. There she roughly pulled the clothes from Bragi and tossed him into the water.
“Your father must be very trusting!” Bragi said when he came back up out of the water. “That or he intends for me to be more than a guest soon enough! For I can say truly that I would not allow a man I intended to remain a stranger so close to my own beautiful daughter. I hope, fair maiden, that you are still unwed?”
At that the troll’s daughter blushed scarlet and fled from the room. Bragi quickly climbed out of the bath and dried himself off. When he was dressed once more he crept quietly out of the room to try to find his escape. As he crept through the halls, however, he began to notice a horrible smell that made him dizzy almost to fainting. Covering his nose, he went to investigate. Following the smell to its source, he soon found his host the troll bent over a large pot, stirring it with a long spoon.
“Eager for your supper, are you?” the troll asked when he spied Bragi in the doorway. “Well! Supper you were promised, and supper you shall have—I am making a special soup for you of cowsbane, hemlock, and toadstools, with boiled snakes for meat. It will be ready in a moment, and as you are such a worthy guest you’ll have the whole pot to yourself!”
Hearing what was in his supper, Bragi saw at once that if he ate even a mouthful he would fall as dead as a stone—but if he refused the hospitality he had tricked the troll into offering, he would be in even greater danger. Bragi thought hard about how to escape his plight, but nothing came to mind. As he thought, the troll brought down a long table and set two places with wooden bowls. In one bowl he poured the poisoned soup for Bragi, and in the other he poured a measure of wine for himself. Then he set out two stools and called for Bragi to sit and eat his super.
Bragi took one look at his meal and knew at once what to do.
“This soup looks very fine,” said Bragi. “Very fine indeed! I beg you, however, to put it back in the pot and boil it a little longer, for I have a bad tooth and cannot eat anything even a little firm—but boil it another four hours and I will happily enjoy the soup you have made for me!”
The troll grumbled, but he put the soup back in the pot and brought it back to a boil. The fumes in the room grew terrible, but Bragi kept his nose covered under his hand and endured it. When the soup was done once more, the troll took the pot again off the fire and poured the soup out into Bragi’s bowl.
“I have boiled it again as you asked!” said the troll. “Now you will eat your supper!”
“How I wish to!” said Bragi. “But look how lavish a meal you have made for me, and how plain our bowls are! A meal as fine as this deserves to be eaten from a bowl of gold, or silver at the very least. But bring me such a bowl instead of this wooden one and I will happily enjoy the soup you have made for me!”
Well the troll grumbled and mumbled, but he got up from the table and went rummaging through his possessions. All manner of odds and ends had piled up in his home over the years, taken from other travellers the troll had eaten, and he had to dig through mounds of old shoes and broken skis and mouldering clothes. After four hours of searching, the troll finally produced a bowl of beaten gold that gleamed joyfully in the light of the fire. Grinning in triumph, he slammed it down on the table and began to pour Bragi’s soup from the wooden bowl to the golden one.
“Oh! But now it has gone cold,” said Bragi. “It was so lovely and hot earlier. Won’t you put it back in the pot and boil it again so I can eat it nice and hot?”
The troll ground his teeth and clenched his fists at Bragi’s words, but he put the soup back in the pot and brought it back to a boil. The fumes in the room became so bad that Bragi’s eyes began to water, and he thought he might go blind.
“Is it hot enough?” the troll asked after a moment.
“A little longer,” said Bragi.
“Is it hot enough now?” the troll asked again after an hour.
“A little longer still,” said Bragi. Twice more the troll asked if was hot enough yet, and twice more Bragi answered "a little longer still," and in this way he was able to keep the troll boiling the soup until a full four hours had passed.
“That’s as long as it boiled the first time!” the troll finally said, growing angry. “It has boiled so long there is no water left in the pot! It is hot enough now for anyone!”
“Very well,” said Bragi. “Oh, but it is such a nice night. If I am to eat such a fine soup from such a fine bowl, let it be under such fine stars as you have above your home. But let us move the table outside under the open sky, and I will happily enjoy the soup you have made for me!”
“Fine!” snapped the troll. “But after this, no more requests. You will eat your soup outside or I will consider that you have refused every hospitality I have offered you, and you will be no guest of mine!”
So it was that the troll picked up the whole table and both stools in one hand and carried everything out the door, removing the beam too heavy for Bragi to lift as he went. By this time twelve hours had passed, however, and dawn was breaking.
“I see your trick!” said the troll. “You wish for me to turn to stone under the rising sun! Well, perhaps you are not as clever as you thought! I will stay here under the overhang at one end of the table, and you will sit at the other end under the open sky and enjoy the last stars of the morning—and of your life!”
“Alas!” said Bragi. “I see that I am doomed. Very well, let me have the bowl of soup and I shall take my seat.”
At these words the troll set up the table half in and half out of the shade, and set the golden bowl of soup upon it. But no sooner had he pushed the bowl of soup down the long table to within Fox-Bragi’s reach than the man snatched it up and held it aloft. And as Bragi raised the glittering rim of the bowl up above his head, a dazzling ray of sunlight struck the burnished gold and reflected a brilliant beam in under the overhang, striking the troll full in the face. All at once a horrible transformation overtook the troll, and in no more than an instant he had turned to stone.
And so it was that Fox-Bragi escaped from being eaten by trolls and returned home richer by a gleaming, golden bowl.
Friday, June 4, 2021
The Saga Age Is Now: Releasing Bodil's Gap
Bodil's Gap
The sagas of your forefathers speak of great deeds of daring done by mighty heroes. In the eddas of your folk, explorers brave the vast and wild sea to find new shores, warriors write their name and fortune in blood, and canny sorcerers bargain with spirits and wield the power that runs through the land like sap in limbs of the World Tree. The harsh and rugged wilderness they found is yours to tame; the laws they laid down yours to keep; and their deeds and fortunes are yours to match and even exceed. In the land of Bodil's Gap, any man or woman may make of themselves a wealthy lord—you have only to reach out and seize it.
Bodil's Gap is a fantasy campaign setting for Dungeon World, inspired by Norse myth and folklore, and by the people of viking-age Scandinavia. Unlike traditional fantasy settings, Bodil’s Gap takes a folkloric, fairy tale tone that emulates the style of ancient sagas. It focuses on the adventures of the men and women living in a harsh and rugged land, bound by honour and craving glory, and confronted with vast supernatural forces that run a constant undercurrent through their daily lives.
For players, this book contains:
- A rich overview of the world of Bodil’s Gap;
- New character and setting moves
- Seven new playbooks ranging from savage berserker to giant-touched sorcerer
- Six new compendium classes, from otherwordly kin of trolls to servant of a noble Jarl
- New equipment and an overhauled wealth system
For GMs, it contains:
- A wealth of setting information to inspire your campaign
- A dozen example steadings for players to visit and explore
- A variety new monsters and magic items to put in players’ paths,
- A handful of example Fronts to pave the way to further adventure
You can find Bodil's Gap on DrivethruRPG here.
Kickstarter and the Future
In previous posts about Bodil's Gap and the process of writing this book, I've talked about plans to launch a kickstarter campaign for more art. Now that the text is done and having looked into the Kickstarter process, what I've realized is that any campaign is foremost carried by its marketing—marketing I just don't have. I'm currently exploring my avenues of promotion with an eye to maybe doing a Kickstarter campaign at a later date, but I feel one of the best things I can do is let the work speak for itself. It's for that reason that I've decided to release the book as is at this time.
Friday, April 9, 2021
Folk Tales of the Gap - The Romance of Buri and Hildr
This is a tale told in the Old Lands, from whose shores the first settlers of Bodil's Gap sailed. It is preserved in the oral tradition of the Bodvi, a cultural artifact from their distant kin and forbears across the sea. It is told here in broad strokes.
The Romance of Buri and Hildr
The hero Buri is mortally wounded defending a fort from trolls, and the valkyrja Hildr comes to bear him away to Bolgmót's hall on the field of Valvangr. Instead of dying, however, Buri's life is saved by King Hjalmar's physician. Hildr decides to wait and follow him, for surely so bold a warrior will quickly find a new battle in which to perish.
Buri soon recovers from his wounds and is richly rewarded by King Hjalmar for his part in defending the fort. In thanks for his lavish treatment and for saving his life, Buri becomes one of the King's huskarlar. Chief among the gifts Buri receives from the king is the sword Haugarfylla, which he wields in battle after battle. As his fame grows, Hildr is more and more impressed and frustrated by Buri's failure to die. During a particularly bloody battle, she takes the form of a shieldmaiden to confront him on the battlefield, hoping to finally claim him for Bolgmót. The two clash so ferociously that lesser fighters flee from the sight of them. They fight so long the sun sets and the moon rises, and the battle only ends when the light of the moon reflecting off of Haugarfylla dazzles Hildr, allowing Buri to shatter her spear and take her captive.
The King's army returns home with their prisoners in tow. Buri and Hildr speak more than once on the voyage. Buri compliments Hildr on her prowess, and Hildr reveals that she is not truly a member of the enemy army, but joined the battle solely to face Buri for reasons of her own. Buri tells her that if he had heard stories of a shieldmaiden of such skill he would have sought her out as well, and promises that she will be not be mistreated—Buri will speak on her behalf to Hjalmar in order to keep her from harm, and will instead ransom her back to her family. Over the length of the journey, their affection for each other grows.When Buri returns to the King's court, the prisoners of the battle are taken to be executed. Buri goes before the King to present Hildr and state his case for her. The King is immediately smitten by Hildr's beauty, however, and refuses Buri's claim on her as his personal prisoner. Instead, Hjalmar demands that Buri gift her to him to be his concubine. Buri is caught between his promise to serve the King and his promise to protect Hildr, and chooses Hildr. He refuses to hand her over and proclaims that he can no longer remain in the King's service. King Hjalmar warns Buri that if he leaves on such poor terms the gifts of affection between them will become tokens ill luck to remind Buri of his broken oath. But Buri persists, stating that Haugarfylla has never failed him before and that he will continue to put his trust in it. Buri departs with Hildr, but after he leaves the King dispatches some of his men to follow after the pair in order to kill Buri and capture Hildr once more.
Buri and Hildr make camp for the night after riding for a day, and Buri asks Hildr where her family dwells, that he might return her to them. Hildr, by now in love, warns Buri that he should not seek to meet her sisters, for it would surely seal his fate if he were to encounter them. As Buri asks what she means, Hjalmar's men arrive. They call out to Buri, asking him to give up Hildr so that they will not be forced to kill him. Buri refuses, and the men enter the camp to attack. Buri and Hildr fight side by side, but when Buri wields Haugarfylla against his former comrades the blade breaks and he is struck a killing blow. As he falls, Hildr sheds her mortal disguise. At the sight of the valkyrja's radiance the attackers flee, and Hildr cradles Buri as he dies, promising him that they will be together in Valvangr very soon—for when he breathes his last breath, she will bear him away to Bolgmót's hall to join the einherjar. Buri tells her that he will regret not getting to spend a mortal life with her before that time and then expires. Taking him up, Hildr summons her raven-black steed and rides up into the shimmering aurora.
I've been busy lately with the initial layout of the book for Bodil's Gap, which I want to have ready before taking the project to Kickstarter for more art—which is why I haven't been posting campaign notes for the past couple of weeks. I've been wanting to get a quick post out, though, and this seemed like a good opportunity to try something new: the Folk Tales of the Gap.
The Romance of Buri and Hildr is something I wrote as a prop for one of my playtesting sessions, which featured a bard telling stories at a wedding. I really like how the story turned out, and I thought that Buri and Hildr was worth sharing. I think it makes a really good illustrative example of the folkloric tone I've tried to take while writing the Gap—the narrative may not be terribly original, but I think it strikes the right archetypal chords to feel genuine. The love between a mortal and a spirit, a character becoming trapped between conflicting promises, a prediction of doom that proves prophetic, ill-luck stemming from a broken oath... all of these motifs give the story a fairy-tale texture that I adore, and which I've tried to replicate in Bodil's Gap.
If you like this kind of thing, let me know and I'll feature more folk tales of the Gap moving forward.
Friday, March 19, 2021
Revenge for the Laxbrynjungs! Part 21 - A Political Briar Patch
The ongoing playtest of Bodil’s Gap continues! In the previous installment, the party returned home from their long voyage in to the northern coast just in time for their ally Odd to call a þing. Now, the assembled folk of Ymafjord and the surrounding farms will gather at the Laxbrynjung holdings in two days' time to choose a new þejn for their clan—and everyone has an opinion.
The Cast
Ingvild Scoreslayer, Dýrsark - Ingvild is an old and bitter warrior, cunning but prone to the rage of a berserker. Having fallen in combat with the ancient ghost of a long-dead giant, Ingvild now lives only by the grace of his bargain with that giant's spectral kin, and his soul bears the giant's mark as evidence of the deal they struck.
Mundr Ivaldisson, Óttimaðr - Mundr is a promising young man endowed with the strength of giants by a mysterious incident during his travels abroad. A Laxbrynjung by birth, Mundr now finds himself betrothed to Gudrun Arvidsdottir of Songheim, illegitimate child of the city's Jarl.
Ylva Blood-Cup, Seiðkona - Ylva is a sorceress endowed with the power to see and speak with spirits, and uses her magic to curse her enemies with great misfortune. Since the voyage of revenge against Kettil Sea-Strider, Ylva has gained a taste for command, and now plans to acquire a ship and crew of her own.
Hrafn, Skald - Hrafn is a travelling merchant blessed by a drop of the Mead of Poetry. Left with neither trade goods nor coin by an accident on the road that destroyed his cart and belongings, Hrafn has joined the Laxbrynjung raiders to avenge their Þejn and enrich himself.
The Game
Arriving at the Ymafjord shore, the party are quick to separate and go their own way after being greeted by their kinsmen.
Mundr seeks out his mother, Signy Sea-Breeze, and the two go for a walk while Mundr shares the news of his betrothal—without mentioning any hint of giantish involvement. Signy is pleased for her son but a little melancholic; Mundr has grown since leaving to avenge the death of his uncle Arnolf, and more and more he reminds his mother of Ivaldi, her dead husband.
Signy also cautions Mundr, however. With the fame won by defeating Kettil Sea-Strider and avenging Arnolf added to his burgeoning familial connection to the Jarl of Songheim, Mundr has become a strong contender for the title of Þejn, should he choose to pursue it—stronger, perhaps, than Rurik, Arnolf's son and the party's ally. There is a real risk of creating further division in the clan even despite the death of Trond, if Mundr becomes a figurehead for those dissatisfied by Rurik leadership. Mundr comes away from his conversation shaken and afraid for the future of his clan.
While Mundr goes to speak to his mother, Ylva retreats to her cabin in the woods to meditate on the ways of seiðr, ranging abroad in spirit form and contemplating how to save Ingvild's soul from the clutches of the phantom giants should he fall in battle a second time. Her contemplation is interrupted, however, by someone shaking the shoulder of her physical body. Returning to her her cabin, she finds Rurik crouched over her, waiting for her to rouse.
Upon seeing that Ylva is awake once more, Rurik begins asking her for advice—she was close friends with Rurik's elder half-brother Steinar, who would have been þejn after Arnolf if he had not also been killed at the same time. Rurik knows that he must be the next þejn, and wants to know what Steinar would have done, and how he would have handled it.
Speaking with Rurik about his brother, Ylva begins to ferret out more of Rurik's mental and emotional state, and quickly realizes that Rurik doesn't truly wish to be þejn—though he's convinced himself that he does. For Rurik, becoming þejn is all about regaining what was stripped from him by Trond's handling of Arnolf's legacy—he wants to be acknowledged as the legitimate son of his father, for his mother and sister's status to be restored, and to win those things Arnolf left to him. The þejnship is the symbol of all of that, and so Rurik pursues it without quite realizing what it is he truly wants.
Recognizing that she must tread carefully, Ylva encourages Rurik to speak to Hrafn, who is both wise and clever, and to return to her later that night to speak again when she will have something to show him. Rurik agrees to her advice and departs.
Meanwhile, Hrafn has lingered aboard the party's ship to read his stolen book of law in preparation for the coming þing and the Alþing after that, but finds himself somewhat stymied by the incompleteness of the record, which contains only one third of the Gap's laws. The sound of someone boarding the ship draws him from his reading, and he turns to find Finnar approaching him. Trond' son sits down unceremoniously on the rowing bench across from Hrafn and bluntly addresses him. Finnar knows that as his father Trond's only surviving heir, the þejnship must fall to him, but he is not a clever man—if he is to be þejn as is only right and proper, he must have a good advisor, and Hrafn is known to be clever and learned. With the wealth of his father devolved to him, Finnar offers to pay Hrafn a princely sum to become one of his counselors.
Hrafn forbears from accepting payment or becoming Finnar's counselor, but agrees to offer him some advice. While they're speaking, however, Rurik arrives following the advice of Ylva to seek Hrafn out. Seeing him in conversation with Finnar, Rurik turns on his heel and leaves again without uttering a word, and Finnar leaves shortly afterward to prepare for the coming þing.
Finally, Ingvild set out from the clan seat headed for his own small farm an hour away, seeking solitude. He's barely been home for an hour, however, before one of his farmhands comes to tell him that a rider has been seen approaching. Going out to investigate, Ingvild recognizes Þruðr, Trond's widow and the mother of Finnar. She greets him and asks if he will speak with her privately. Frustrated by the interruption to his solitude, Ingvild refuses to invite her in, telling her to speak in the yard or not at all. When she insists on privacy, he sends his farmhands away, and she dismounts from her horse to approach him.
Coming up to the grizzled veteran, Þruðr informs Ingvild that she know of his and his allies' support for Rurik as þejn, just as they must know of her support for Finnar. With Trond's wealth and contacts under her control, Þruðr boasts a great deal of influence which she is prepared to wield against Rurik if the need arises to secure her son's position—but she's come to offer Ingvild an alternative. If he agrees to marry her and adopt Finnar as his son and heir, Þruðr will instead throw her influence behind Ingvild as the prospective þejn. As a famous warrior party to the killing of Kettil Sea-Strider, and the brother-in-law of the fallen Arnolf, Ingvild would be in a very good position to win the support of the clan at large—far better than Rurik, who is still tarred with the brush of illegitimacy, and who was here in Ymafjord when others took Arnolf's revenge.
Ingvild is shocked and dismayed by Þruðr's ploy and has no idea of what his response should be, fearing the consequences if he declines but concerned that Þruðr will simply arrange his death in the near future if he agrees, once the current succession crisis has died down and Finnar's status as Ingvild's heir has made his ascension straightforward. Seeing Ingvild's unwillingness to give an answer, Þruðr offers to make things easy for him; if by the time of the þing he hasn't come to her, she'll know what his reply is and act accordingly. With that she rides off, saying she must return to the clan seat to greet her cousin, Skadi Battle-Brand—for it seems she too survived the kraken's attack, and his recently returned to her own home of Askarfjord in time to be called to attend the þing.
Ingvild recalls that Skadi was no friend of Trond's, but came to join the raiding fleet merely for the sake of her cousin Þruðr. With little way of knowing where Skadi's support will lie but concerned that it will only reinforce Þruðr's position, Ingvild hastens to travel back to the clan seat himself, where it has suddenly become very pressing that he reconvene with is allies.
Only a day remains before the coming þing, when all plots must come to a head and the new þejn will be chosen.
Behind the Scenes
This session was light on adventure but heavy on character interaction, which makes a nice change of pace. I had a lot of fun running this and giving each character their own little vignette, and I look forward to seeing how the party will resolve their problems.
A session of this kind wouldn't have been possible without the complex web of family relationships we've been laying the groundwork for all campaign, and I think the game has really benefitted from some planning in that regard. Actually mapping out a family tree before we even sat down for session one was maybe the best decision I made in regards to the campaign, and it's been paying dividends ever since.
Next time, Ylva will take Rurik on a journey through dreams and the party will reconvened to discuss what they've learned.
Friday, March 12, 2021
Revenge for the Laxbrynjungs! Part 20 - Returning to Ymafjord
The ongoing playtest of Bodil’s Gap continues! In the previous installment, Mundr agreed to marry Gudrun, the illegitimate daughter of Jarl Arvid of Songheim, only to discover that like him she is touched by the power of other worlds—thanks to her tutelage under the frost giantess Hvít-Rán. Now Mundr must negotiate the tangle of otherworldly influence encroaching upon his upcoming nuptials in order to make it back home to Ymafjord and determine who is Þejn of the Laxbrynjungs.
The Cast
Ingvild Scoreslayer, Dýrsark - Ingvild is an old and bitter warrior, cunning but prone to the rage of a berserker. Having fallen in combat with the ancient ghost of a long-dead giant, Ingvild now lives only by the grace of his bargain with that giant's spectral kin, and his soul bears the giant's mark as evidence of the deal they struck.
Mundr Ivaldisson, Óttimaðr - Mundr is a promising young man endowed with the strength of giants by a mysterious incident during his travels abroad. A Laxbrynjung by birth, Mundr now finds himself betrothed to Gudrun Arvidsdottir of Songheim, illegitimate child of the city's Jarl.
Ylva Blood-Cup, Seiðkona - Ylva is a sorceress endowed with the power to see and speak with spirits, and uses her magic to curse her enemies with great misfortune. Since the voyage of revenge against Kettil Sea-Strider, Ylva has gained a taste for command, and now plans to acquire a ship and crew of her own.
Hrafn, Skald - Hrafn is a travelling merchant blessed by a drop of the Mead of Poetry. Left with neither trade goods nor coin by an accident on the road that destroyed his cart and belongings, Hrafn has joined the Laxbrynjung raiders to avenge their Þejn and enrich himself.
The Game
When the face of the giantess appears, Mundr is transfixed by mounting concern. The last giant he encountered was a terrible foe who slew Ingvild with a final blow despite being little more than a ghost—what faces him now is a living giant of flesh and blood, albeit one present only as a moving image in a pane of ice.
Despite Mundr's concerns, however, the giantess makes no sign of hostility—indeed, she seems quite pleased to see him. As Gudrun happily greets her "auntie" and begins telling Hvít-Rán about her betrothal, the giantess greets Mundr cordially and expresses her congratulations to them both. Looking Mundr over, Hvít-Rán recognizes him at once for what he is, and asks the name of his teacher in the ways of óttimáttr—surprised that one of her fiery cousins would be inclined to take a student. When Mundr is forced to explain that he had no teacher and came by his powers through direct exposure to the Realm of Fire, the giantess' eyes gleam with greed, and she offers to become Mundr's tutor as well as Gudrun's.
Unsettled by the whole situation, Mundr deflects instead of agreeing, asking more about Gudrun and Hvít-Rán's relationship. The giantess explains that she has been Gudrun's confidante for a long time without truly elaborating on the subject. She and Mundr can speak more at wedding, after all, which Hvít-Rán will of course attend—though the giantess is at present far away in the Realm of Frost outside the mortal world, for some time now she has been teaching Gudrun to "open the way", lessons which will surely be complete in time for the wedding feast.
Unwilling to make himself the giantess' enemy so quickly, Mundr can only agree. Hvít-Rán's image does not linger long after that, bidding Mundr and Gudrun farewell—for now. Mundr does not linger long either, parting from Gudrun to prepare for the trip back to Ymafjord. When next the two see each other, it will be at their wedding on the eve of the Alþing.
Back at the docks, Ingvild is wandering in search of solitude, only to encounter a familiar face: Odd Crooked-Brow, the Hersir of Ymafjord. Stumping along with the aid of a crutch, Odd emerges from the thronging sailors to greet Ingvild, surprising him—none of the party has seen their comrade since the kraken broke up their fleet. Looking Odd up and down, it becomes clear that the old Hersir has not weathered the intervening time very well; the crutch is a new addition to his outfit, made necessary by fact that his left leg now appears to be missing from the knee down.
Finding a secluded spot to speak, Ingvild asks Odd what's happened to him and his crew since the two were parted. Odd explains how he was wounded in the kraken's attack, one of its tentacles twisting his lower leg from his body before their ship was able to escape. Injured, his crew left short-handed by the attack and his ship badly damaged, Odd managed to steer into the port of Egil's Landing for repairs and recuperation. While there he made inquiries attempting to learn the location of Kettil Sea-Strider's lair, but was forced to be cautious—for Egil's Landing was known to be the pirate's port of call, and many there were sympathetic to his plundering of Southern waters. By the time Odd's ship was repaired he had learned nothing, and judged it better to return south and attempt to reconvene with the rest of the Ymafjorders—only to learn on arriving that Ingvild and his companions had already returned in triumph from their raid on the Sea-Strider's camp.
With Odd and his crew confirmed alive, most of the fleet that departed from Ymafjord is accounted for—and those in Songheim are ready to return home. The following morning, the party prepares to sail alongside Odd. Before departing, Ingvild fetches Kara and Gunvor from the temple of Gullvinna, the Goddess of Craft, where they have been staying as guests. With Trond gone and the question of the þejnship about to be settled, it's finally safe for them to return home.
Setting out, things quickly go awry, however. A storm blows in, and the winds separate the party's ship from Odd's. Lightning strikes their mast, causing it to fall, while surging out of the waves, eager to escape the lightning striking the water, the party's perennial foes emerge—the nárikrabbir, giant crab-lice that plague the seas and tear ships apart for their nests.
While sailors dive out of the way of the falling mast, battle is quickly joined. Hrafn's galdr-song stirs the sky, deflecting lightning away from the ship to strike the waves, making swimming crabs convulse and sink out of sight. Ingvild and Mundr trade blows with those creatures that make their way aboard the ship, while Ylva curses and transforms her foes.
Shedding crabs under the blows of the PCs and their crew, the ship limps away from the storm propelled by rowers bending their backs at the oars, and finally makes it home to Ymafjord a day behind Odd. On their arrival, the PCs are greeted at the shore by their friends and kinsmen, and immediately embroiled in politics, for Odd has sent messengers to the outlying holdings of the clan, calling everyone to gather for an impromptu þing.
The time has come to choose a new þejn of the Laxbrynjungs.
Behind the Scenes
I am constantly baffled by how often my group rolls crabs on the random encounter chart I have for sea travel. There's only one result that includes crabs, the odds of them rolling it again and again are incredibly low—and yet here we are. It's maddening, I'd love to have some more variety in these travel encounters, but I think fifty percent of the time we've used this chart we've gotten crabs.
Next time we delve into clan politics as the PCs try to figure out who should become þejn—and who is even in a position to do so.
Friday, March 5, 2021
Bodil's Gap Book Update, and More Illustrations
I normally post about the ongoing playtest game at this time, but for a variety of reasons my group hasn't been able to play for the past couple of weeks. So instead, I'd like to take the opportunity to offer an update about the state of the project, and to show off some more of the fantastic art I've gotten for the project.
Where are we?
As of about a week ago, I've gotten back the final piece of artwork I had budgeted for. Working with the artist, Anton Vitus, has been a fantastic experience, and I'm really pleased with the final result. With artwork done for the moment, however, the ball is entirely in my court as far as getting Bodil's Gap to publication goes.
Currently the text of the book is 90% complete. What remains to write is minor, and a lot of it depends on the editing and layout stage. For example, I'm writing epigraphs for every chapter, but need to know exactly how the chapters will break down to know how many I'll need. I'm filling out a glossary, and it will expand as I go through the text and decide what needs to be included. Stuff of that nature takes up what I consider the incomplete wordcount.
What that means is that editing is the next step, and it's one I'm currently working on. At this point I think I'm half-way through the material that needs to be edited, but it's hard to predict a timeline for the rest of it—a lot of the text that I'm going through is first-draft material, and some sections have called for major rewrites. Depending on how much redrafting is required, the editing phase will obviously take a longer or shorter amount of time.
What's next?
Once I'm done editing, the text will have to be assembled into one master document and then go to layout. During this phase I'll arrange the text into chapters, apply all the correct fonts and formats, and insert the art into place. From there, I will theoretically have a finished product ready to be put up for sale.
My plan, however, is not to stop there. My budget for art was small, and though I have some work experience in the field, I am by no means a professional editor. Once I have an initial rpg document to show off, my plan is to take the project to Kickstarter with two goals:
- Expand my budget for art
- Hire a professional editor
The art
To show off what I have already and hopefully whet your appetite for more of Anton's work, here are two more of the playbook portraits he's done.
The Rúngaeti
The Goði
Friday, February 26, 2021
Bodil's Gap Playbooks: The Hersir
Peering across the water from the shore, a grizzled veteran examines the warriors upon the walls of the fort that stands above the waves on salt-caked pilings. Singling out his targets, he speaks to his companions as they prepare for their assault, formulating the plan that will see them through to victory...
Locked in combat with a rival duellist, a young shieldmaiden turns aside blow after blow with her targe. Her sword sings in her grip as she brings her skill to bear, lashing out with an unexpected blow that severs her opponent's hamstring, laming him. Blood dripping from her blade, she retreats, forcing him to follow on his newly-wounded leg...
In the thick mud of a rain-soaked village in the path of a marching army, a mercenary demonstrates the use of the spear to a dozen frightened farmers. Lashing out with his spear's butt, he sends a villager crashing brutally to the earth with battered ribs and his breath stolen. Two more days of such treatment, and the farmers will be ready to fight for their homes...
Under a withering hail of arrows, a seasoned captain orders her men to lock shields and stand shoulder to shoulder, weathering the storm in a tight shield wall. When the archers break, she charges at the head of her companions, and they follow behind her in a wedge of iron bristling with weapons, prepared to crash into the enemy like a wild boar...
The Hersir
This playbook was a late addition to the Bodil's Gap project, intended to cover an archetype I felt was missing. While the Dýrsark and Fighter playbooks offer effective warriors skilled at dispatching their foes, the Hersir is more focused on supporting the other members of the party, giving up the sheer damage potential of other warrior playbooks in exchange for greater control over the battlefield.
Leadership and a Tactical Mind
Endowed with a keen eye and a keener mind, the Hersir is adept at taking the measure of the opposition and formulating a plan of attack. With a glance the Hersir can judge how dangerous a person is, and by exchanging a few words they can glean information about a person's past experience of battle, good and ill; what drives them to fight; and to whom their loyalty is owed. And when laying out an opening gambit before battle, the Hersir can give their allies greater chance of success and victory—as long as their plan is being followed.
Fighting alongside others, the Hersir is a master of formations, able to arrange allied warriors into lines of defense or attack that protect those within or add greater force to every charge and sword-swing. And at a companion's side, the Hersir's assistance can turn a fumbled swing into a glancing blow that draws the enemy's blood. The Hersir can take advantage even of the battlefield itself, using every quirk of terrain and positioning to thwart their foe. And at the height of their powers, the Hersir can turn the tide of battle by revealing the extent of their foresight, bringing out hidden preparations to counter their enemy's strength and mercilessly exploit their weakness.
But a leader is nothing without followers, and even leaving aside the other members of their party, no Hersir fights alone. Every Hersir has the support of a loyal huskarl as their right hand, a sort of superior hireling whose loyalty is above question—and as the Hersir grows in skill, so too does their huskarl. And under the command of a Hersir, even normal hirelings fight with greater vigour and loyalty—particularly those trained up from nothing by the Hersir themself.
The Way of the Shield and Sword
Though the Hersir is a commander, they are one who leads from the front. Embroiled in the thick of the fighting, a Hersir must be able to fend for themselves in battle. Though without the savage strength of a berserker, a Hersir is still an adept combatant able to employ a variety of tricks and techniques to aid themselves and their allies. No two Hersir have the same knacks, but a Hersir might parry their opponent's blows, distract or daze them, maneuver them about, hamstring them, or aggress against a whole swarm of lesser foes.
The Hersir is also a master of shield combat, skilled at defending themselves and others. In their hands, a shield can be a deadly weapon, or it can be sacrificed to turn aside even a blow that would tear through armour like cloth.
Using the Hersir
This playbook is intended for those who want a more tactical warrior than the Dýrsark and a more leadership-oriented role than the Fighter. Use it to play someone who organizes raids, captains a ship, or commands other warriors in battle.
Bodil's Gap is currently in playtesting, and the playtesting version of the Hersir playbook can be found here. If you have any insight or feedback, leave a comment or send an email to brazenhead@zoho.com.
Art Note
Like the others I showed off earlier, this fantastic playbook illustration was done by Anton Vitus. Check his other work out here.
Friday, February 19, 2021
Revenge for the Laxbrynjungs! Part 19 - Paying the Price, Playing Nice, and the Pale Ice.
The ongoing playtest of Bodil’s Gap continues! In the previous installment, the party finally faced Kettil Sea-Strider, the slayer of their fallen kinsmen, and won their vengeance by laying him low—only for the roof to cave in on them as the ancient, glowing stones of Alfheimr supporting it vanished into snow and ash.
The Cast
Ingvild Scoreslayer, Dýrsark - Ingvild is an old and bitter warrior, cunning but prone to the rage of a berserker. Having fallen in combat with the ancient ghost of a long-dead giant, Ingvild now lives only by the grace of his bargain with that giant's spectral kin, and his soul bears the giant's mark as evidence of the deal they struck.
Mundr Ivaldisson, Óttimaðr - Mundr is a promising but untested young man endowed with the strength of giants by a mysterious incident during his travels abroad. A Laxbrynjung by birth, Mundr is the only child of the late Ivaldi, the youngest of Arnolf's brothers.
Ylva Blood-Cup, Seiðkona - Ylva is a sorceress endowed with the power to see and speak with spirits, and uses her magic to curse her enemies with great misfortune. Though dwelling apart from the clan in the woods, Ylva is an ally of the Laxbrynjungs, having been a close friend and confidant of Arnolf's murderd heir, Steinar.
Hrafn, Skald - Hrafn is a travelling merchant blessed by a drop of the Mead of Poetry. Left with neither trade goods nor coin by an accident on the road that destroyed his cart and belongings, Hrafn has joined the Laxbrynjung raiders to avenge their Þejn and enrich himself.
The Game
Though Hrafn takes shelter under the strong arms of the statue he animated to aid himself, the other members of the party are not so lucky. Falling debris batters them, and Ingvild has the particular misfortune of taking a beam studded with protruding nails across his shoulders, gouging his flesh.
Injured but still alive, the party digs their way out of the rubble and begins patching their wounds and sorting out Kettil's treasures from the mass of fallen timber. Very quickly they realize that they have become wealthy indeed even accounting for the shares of plunder they owe to their crew and mercenaries, for Kettil's hoard boasts an extravagant array of glittering treasures in silver and gold alongside sacks weighty with gleaming coins. The bigger challenge will actually be getting their plunder down off the cliff, for the tower they ascended on the way up has vanished just as the temple did.
Sifting through their prizes, Hrafn discovers an intact wagon of ornately carved wood buried under a mound of fallen beams and heaped up treasures, and the party immediately begins loading it up. As they heap up their spoils, other wonderous items come to light. Ylva uncovers a spear with a steel blade of trollish craftsmanship, the slightly oversized weapon heavy in her hands. Nearby, Ingvild discovers a large kirtle cut for a troll's frame, which seems to be woven from vividly green moss instead of flax or wool, while Mundr finds an iron-banded chest filled with apothecary's tools—everything necessary to produce medicines, unguents, or poisons.
With their new wagon loaded up, all that remains is to get it down the cliff. Hrafn whispers words of galdr to the stream that plunges over the cliff to fall into the pool below, and the party are able to ride the current down held safe in the water's grip.
Exiting back out from behind the greater waterfall of Kettil's hidden lair, the party reconnects with what remains of their crew waiting outside aboard the ship to see what—if anything—emerges. The crew are understandably concerned following the berserk fit in which the party slaughtered seven of them while the rest fled, but the treasure goes a long way toward satisfying the survivors. When Harun al-Azraq returns from his circuit of the island and reports that none of Kettil's men escaped from the far side, he too is well-pleased with his crew's share of the loot. Arvid the Younger, however—many of whose men were also slain by the berserking PCs—is nowhere to be found.
Believing that the fallout of this incident should be dealt with as soon as possible, the party decides to sail back to Songheim instead of returning directly home. The trip back is uneventful, and after a few days' sailing they arrive once more in the city. There on the docks, Harun al-Azraq bids the party farewell, having decided that the time is right for he and his men to return to their homeland. Parting in friendship, he wishes the party good luck and goes to prepare for the long voyage back across the sea.
The PCs, meanwhile, elect Hrafn to go and speak to Jarl Arvid the Elder. As the only one among them who managed to resist Bolgmót's curse and the berserk fury brought on by it, his hands are clean of the blood of Arvid's men. Ascending up to the Jarl's hall at the city's peak, Hrafn is greeted at the doors by several armed huskarls who escort him in with no little amount of tension visible in their frames. Entering into the Jarl's presence, Hrafn can see that Arvid the Younger has indeed made it back ahead of them, for he is seated now at his father's side.
Arvid the Elder begins by asking about the fate of the ten men from his son's crew slain by the other PCs, and Hrafn willingly explains what happened, speaking of the War Goddess' curse and the sudden violence everyone in the chamber descended into. He describes Arvid's men succumbing to the curse just as his allies did, and says that although it's true the ten men died, so did seven of the Laxbrynjung clansmen, and that it is difficult to say who slew whom.
Arvid the Younger looks as though he wishes to interject, but his position is a difficult one—Hrafn recognizes that Arvid would appear in some measure a coward if he spoke about his own survival, for he won his life by fleeing from the orgy of violence. That same knowledge now holds Arvid back from insisting that it was Ingvild and Mundr who did the bulk of the killing, both of his men and their own.
Arvid the Elder also seems to recognize this, and with Hrafn's persuasive influence makes clear his willingness to put the whole affair behind them. As Arvid says, though a warrior may be held materially accountable for the things done while berserk, it is wrong to hold them morally culpable, for the berserkergang steals all wit and volition when it descends. Though ten warriors were slain, he asks weregild only for five to call matters even between his clan and the Laxbrynjungs, and Hrafn readily agrees—even the weregild for five men is a major sum, and far better than paying the full ten.
Arvid has one other request, however. Though he and Hrafn have judged it fair to assign weregild for five slain warriors in light of the difficulty in determining whether any of Arvid's men were responsible for the deaths among the Laxbrynjungs, there are still ten of his retainers' households that find themselves without a family member. To alleviate their burden, and to bind their two clans more closely together, Arvid asks that the Laxbrynjungs take in a child from each of five households for fosterage.
Hrafn also agrees to this request, recognizing the opportunity presented by greater closeness with the powerful Jarl of the preeminent city in their region. Hrafn, in fact, goes even farther. With Kettil Sea-Strider dead, the party have done a great favour for Jarl Arvid and his city, ridding them of a ruthless and prolific bandit who preyed almost exclusively in their waters. This is cause for celebration, and what better celebration could there be than a wedding—and who should be a young and unwed Laxbrynjung kinsman of impeccable character but Mundr, Hrafn's dear friend? Does the Jarl by any chance have an unwed daughter of a similar age?
As it transpires, he does. Arvid glances over to the corner of the hall, where a girl of no more than eighteen has been coolly watching the proceedings from amongst his other courtiers. Though pretty and with some resemblance to Arvid the Elder, she does not resemble the Younger, and Hrafn intuits that she is an illegitimate child—someone the Jarl is likely quite eager to see married off, to prevent strife in his own household.
Jarl Arvid is willing to entertain the idea, but he wishes to meet Mundr again and speak with him before he agrees to the match—and to have Mundr meet Gudrun, his daughter.
Before that, however, he wishes to see the proof of Kettil's death. Accompanying Hrafn down through the city, he and a procession of his retainers make their way to the docks, where the other PCs bring forth Kettil's head in a box. Hauling it out, Arvid lifts it for all to behold, the crowds of people gathered on the docks and having followed the procession down gasping to see it. Proclaiming the threat of Kettil Sea-Strider ended, he spits on the head and casts it into the water. The party's star is on the rise in Songheim, it seems.
That night, a feast is held in the Jarl's hall. While the others draw lots to determine their seating partners—and to a man find themselves paired with people they can't stand—Mundr is deliberately placed with Gudrun to see how they get along.
Mundr, barely older than Gudrun herself, is left very much flatfooted by the suggestion that he be married, and doesn't quite know how to react to the flirtations of a pretty girl—nor to her quiet questions about the shimmer of heat she claims to see about him, as of iron fresh from the forge. Deflecting, he asks about her life, and she speaks of her isolation as an illegitimate child, of being starved for news as she seldom leaves her father's hall, and of the solace she takes in her dear Auntie, who is her tutor and the source of what news she does receive.
Over the course of the feast Gudrun appears to be quite taken with Mundr, but she persists in asking provocative questions about his past and the strangeness about him. Finally, to put him at ease she puts her finger to her horn of mead, freezing its surface solid and intimating that like him, she has an unusual knack or two. She even suggests they should meet privately to speak about it, and that she will sneak out in the night, once the revelers at the feast have all fallen asleep. Mundr agrees.
As the feast winds down, Arvid the Elder comes to speak to Mundr and Gudrun. Gudrun states that she has no objection to the match if Arvid thinks it a good one, while Mundr is beginning to warm to it as well. Settling down has always been his long-term objective, and having someone who understands his giant-touched condition is greatly appealing to him—though he does not voice that consideration to Arvid.
Arvid questions Mundr briefly about his plans, and then proposes that the wedding be held before the Alþing, where the union can be formally announced. The party is returning home to name Rurik Þejn and collect him for the Alþing—on their return they will stop in Songheim instead of carrying on directly to the assembly ground at Logberg, in the north—the wedding can take place then.
Things are moving very quickly, and Mundr is swept up. He agrees to Arvid's proposal, and departs from Gudrun at the feast's end already looking forward to seeing her privately in a few hours.
Later that night, he arrives at the meeting place Gudrun proposed, a barren spit of rock behind the Jarl's hall, overlooking the ocean on the sea-facing side of the city. There they sit together, and Gudrun is even more forward than at the feast, curling into Mundr's side as they admire the moonlight on the water. When Gudrun moves to kiss him, he allows himself to be seduced, and they pass some time practicing for their wedding night.
When the deed is done, Gudrun sighs from her patch of rock beside him and says that she supposes now is the time to introduce Mundr to her Auntie. Waving her hand, the stone of the cliff—damp from sea-spray—freezes into a shimmering mirror of ice, which fogs with condensation and then clears to reveal the great, pale face of a gigantic woman peering up at them from the frozen surface, her ice-white eyes pinning Mundr like spears. As Mundr looks on, transfixed, Gudrun smiles and introduces her tutor and confidante, Hvít-Rán—a frost giantess, denizen of the Primordial Realm of Ice and ancient enemy of the gods.
Sitting there, it dawns on Mundr that perhaps Gudrun is not like him after all—he gained his powers of óttimáttr through direct exposure to the Realm of Fire, and wields it despite the attentions of that realm's denizens. Gudrun, it seems, has been taught her tricks, and is still directly under the influence of her giantish instructor.
And Mundr has agreed to marry her.
Behind the Scenes
When Hrafn asked if Jarl Arvid had a daughter, I had him roll to Lean on his Luck, a custom move for the setting of Bodil's Gap. He roll a 6-, of course. Instead of there being no conveniently unwed daughter at all we I thought it would be far more interesting for there to be one, and for her to be dangerous—so we have Gudrun, the cunning and ambitious student of giants. Hopefully Mundr can deal with her entanglements without dooming the world or—more importantly—spoiling his marriage.
This was a fairly Mundr-focused episode, and it's mainly Hrafn's fault—he's always pushing Mundr to the forefront of events, and I find that relationship really interesting. Hopefully the poor lad isn't in over his head this time!
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