I've DMed games of various types for several years now; everything from historical to fantasy to modern to modern horror to science fiction and a few combinations therein. That isn't particularly important, I know, but I just wanted to let you know what when I say I'm looking for a slightly different taste, I'd REALLY like something other than the strawberry, vanilla and chocolate that I've been treating myself to.
I've been thinking a lot on what type of campaign to run for two players who - like myself - thoroughly enjoy storyline over game mechanics. They're good role-players and cooperate nicely. Before I tell you what I'm looking for here, let me tell you what I have.
The setting has a modern (2007) metropolis (New York) background in a world not very different from our own. It isn't Urban Arcana, there aren't spell casters flinging supernatural powers or super heroes flying around saving the day. I'd like to see a mixture of elements that make up an intriguing, diverse stage where my players are mixed up in vicious politics, organized crime and dramatic side stories - all the while dealing with a touch of the seemingly impossible.
The two characters in this campaign are decidedly opposite; one is a small-town-raised woman who, upon her grandfather's death, decided to shuck the constraints of her roots and move to the Big Apple to pursue a career in investigation and law. Michayla Angevine currently works for a prestigious law firm called Lacen & Hayes, and has so for the last five years. Along with her driven nature and natural charm and beauty, Michayla has known there's something very different about her since she was a child (read "The Guide", below).
Wesley Turner, the other character, went to college with Michayla - where they originally met - and had a romantic relationship that failed with her back then. Unlike Michayla, whose moral compass is rarely off mark, Wesley was born and raised in New York around a mafia family that supported him in his youth. In the campaign, there's nothing "special" about Wesley. While he's performed some questionable actions through his life, Wesley generally has a good heart; family comes first with him.
The two characters haven't met or spoken with each other in over five years. Before I introduce how they'll meet, however, I wanted to give you this bit of writing (a quick, flash-fiction I did to get the feel for the campaign) that hints as to why Michayla Angevine is special. The first piece, The Guide, takes place when she's 10 years old back in Richland, Montana. The second, The Guardian, is twenty years later (present day) when she's 30. For the player, The Guide is in character knowledge, but The Guardian is background information for you guys, and myself to keep in mind. (Also, please note that not every piece of this information will be entirely accurate to the real world. As well, I'm not the most gifted writer, so bear with me...)
The Guide
Show
All ten, long years of her life, Michayla had lived on a large spread of property in western Montana with her parents and her grandfather, Bolton. The property was safely nestled at the foot of the southern Rocky Mountains and in all, spread some three hundred acres—though Michayla hadn’t yet explored all of it.
The young girl was normally vibrant with energy, a luxury that Grand Pa Bolton admitted he was envious of. Today, however, Michayla’s demeanor was not as bright as normally it was. She was sitting on the back porch of the large cabin that she and her parents lived in, an especially quizzical expression covering her rounded face.
Bolton, a sixty four year-old rancher, noted the girl from the horse stables near by about an hour ago. He had given her time to think out whatever might’ve been bothering her, but now he was both concerned and curious as to what Michayla was pondering so deeply upon.
“Hey!”, the aging man called over to her, motioning her to join him with a hand that still clasped a leather strap. “Give me a hand, will ya?”
Michayla promptly hopped up from the top step, always willing to spend some time with her grandfather. He didn’t really ask for help that often, which should’ve made this particular request all the sweeter for the little girl. Her face, however, did not change upon approaching Bolton.
“Yes sir?”, she asked, looking up at him with her bright, amber-colored eyes. Bolton smiled softly down at Michayla and with the other hand made a notion toward the back door of the stable.
“I’m goin’ down to the South Bar to make some repairs on the fences down there. Though you might like to help me out.”
Michayla nodded quickly her approval, giving a quick glance back toward the cabin. She entertained the thought of telling her mother where she would be—it always seemed important to her—but shrugged it off, certain that as long as Grand Pa Bolton was with her, it would be fine. Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been down to the South Bar before.
The two grabbed the tools necessary to do the work he had tasked them with and made their way across the wide spread of land between the cabins and South Bar, taking a narrow path through the pines to get there. Bolton didn’t speak at all during the walk, hoping Michayla would come out with whatever was bothering her without him having to pry it from her.
Finally reaching their destination, he sat his tools down beside a particularly gnarled, wooden post and looked down at his granddaughter. “Well,” he started, allowing a slight pause to make sure he had Michayla’s attention, “you’ve come all the way down here without a word, one. And normally I have to bribe you with pie to get you to shut it up.”
The elder man stopped promptly, taking in the abrupt glare of offense offered up by the girl. As steady as she was, however, Michayla couldn’t hold the feign for long and an embarrassed smile inevitably crossed her lips.
“So, what’s up?”
At first she only shook her head, as if she didn’t want to speak about it. But when Bolton shrugged his shoulders and reached down for the tools as if he were going to ignore the matter altogether, Michayla spoke, “Grand Pa…”
She stopped, looking down to the ground for a moment; her tiny fingers were fiddling with each other while she seemed to think on a way to ask her question.
“Do you…”, once again she paused, this time Bolton raised a brow, creasing lines across his face. “Do I what?”, he prompted her.
“Do you… think you’re special?” Bolton blinked a few times, making sure he understood the question correctly, then suddenly burst out in laughter. Michayla’s perplexing expression quickly faded to be replaced by disappointed; a fact that didn’t escape Bolton.
Upon considering how important this seemed to his granddaughter, Bolton sat down slowly on a large boulder outcropping near the post where he had laid the tools and looked over to Michayla much more seriously now.
“Do I think I’m special?”, he repeated the question, briefly gazing skyward as if to ponder on the matter. His eyes evenly met the young girl’s and he gave up a firm nod.
“Yes, I do, honey.”
Michayla’s eyes immediately lit up, obviously interested for her grandfather to explain his answer. It took Bolton by surprise, but he decided not to dwell on it for too long. “You wanna know what makes me special?”, he asked and received an eager nod in turn.
Bolton leaned over to her slowly, as if bearing forth a deeply guarded secret, “My name.” he remarked, at length. Michayla didn’t know what to make of the answer and that was clear enough in her features. Her grandfather seemed confident in the answer he had given her, but it was far less dramatic than what she’d hoped for.
“Your name?”, she questioned, shaking her head a little.
“Yes, my name.” again, his reply was calm and confident. He shook a finger at the ten year-old, “Do you know what my name means?”.
Michayla sincerely shook her head, ignorant to the answer of his question. “Bolton is Old English, you know. It means Lord of the Manor Farm.”, Bolton spread his arms out, demonstrating his point by highlighting the land around him.
Michayla blinked, obviously confused. Bolton only smiled at her reassuringly, and continued to explain himself, “Your father’s name is Ewing, which is also Old English and means A Friend of the Law. He’s a lawyer, you see?”
The young girl tilted her head back gently, giving an enlightened expression; she listened intently as Bolton went on.
“We Angevines, my dear, are given to our names. Whatever our name means, we’ll become. My father—your great grand father—was named Reginald. That’s also Old English and it means A Wise and Powerful Ruler.”
Michayla tilted her little head to the left, quizzically, “Was he a powerful ruler, Grand Pa?”
Bolton nodded once again, “He was.” He let a pleased smile cover his face and studied his granddaughter for a moment. Her interest in his story was all that mattered at the moment.
“Your great grand father Reginald was Mayor here in Richland for seventeen years; and around here, you don’t get much higher than that.”
Michayla thought for a moment, then looked over to the old man. He knew the question she was about to ask, and that it was a tough one to answer. “What does my name mean, Grand Pa?”
“Michayla…” he paused, gauging how best to present the meaning of her name. At length, he answered with the same confidence he had always given to her.
“Michayla is an Old English spelling of a word that comes from Hebrew, honey.”
“Hebrew?”, she asked, perplexed.
“Yep. It literally asks a question in it’s meaning.” he replied, standing up from the boulder. She could tell his back was starting to bother him. Michayla went over and fetched Bolton’s tools for him so he wouldn’t have to bend over. As she held them up, she asked, “Well… what question does it ask?”
Bolton smiled to his inquisitive granddaughter and ruffled her hair as he took the tools. “It asks: Who is Like the Lord?”
He studied the girl for a while, understanding that for a ten year-old, his explanation would probably be confusing at first. He knew he’d have to talk to her about what that meant; perhaps tell her a story about human humility—he had plenty from personal experience. But Bolton was rather surprised when Michayla looked up and nodded quietly to him. “Alright.”
He chuckled and nodded back, then turned around toward the fence. “Now let’s get some work done!”
“Yes sir!”, she happily replied, moving her little hand over her pair of work gloves laying on the ground. Michayla glanced over quickly to make sure Bolton wasn’t looking as the gloves floated up to her grasp.
The young girl was normally vibrant with energy, a luxury that Grand Pa Bolton admitted he was envious of. Today, however, Michayla’s demeanor was not as bright as normally it was. She was sitting on the back porch of the large cabin that she and her parents lived in, an especially quizzical expression covering her rounded face.
Bolton, a sixty four year-old rancher, noted the girl from the horse stables near by about an hour ago. He had given her time to think out whatever might’ve been bothering her, but now he was both concerned and curious as to what Michayla was pondering so deeply upon.
“Hey!”, the aging man called over to her, motioning her to join him with a hand that still clasped a leather strap. “Give me a hand, will ya?”
Michayla promptly hopped up from the top step, always willing to spend some time with her grandfather. He didn’t really ask for help that often, which should’ve made this particular request all the sweeter for the little girl. Her face, however, did not change upon approaching Bolton.
“Yes sir?”, she asked, looking up at him with her bright, amber-colored eyes. Bolton smiled softly down at Michayla and with the other hand made a notion toward the back door of the stable.
“I’m goin’ down to the South Bar to make some repairs on the fences down there. Though you might like to help me out.”
Michayla nodded quickly her approval, giving a quick glance back toward the cabin. She entertained the thought of telling her mother where she would be—it always seemed important to her—but shrugged it off, certain that as long as Grand Pa Bolton was with her, it would be fine. Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been down to the South Bar before.
The two grabbed the tools necessary to do the work he had tasked them with and made their way across the wide spread of land between the cabins and South Bar, taking a narrow path through the pines to get there. Bolton didn’t speak at all during the walk, hoping Michayla would come out with whatever was bothering her without him having to pry it from her.
Finally reaching their destination, he sat his tools down beside a particularly gnarled, wooden post and looked down at his granddaughter. “Well,” he started, allowing a slight pause to make sure he had Michayla’s attention, “you’ve come all the way down here without a word, one. And normally I have to bribe you with pie to get you to shut it up.”
The elder man stopped promptly, taking in the abrupt glare of offense offered up by the girl. As steady as she was, however, Michayla couldn’t hold the feign for long and an embarrassed smile inevitably crossed her lips.
“So, what’s up?”
At first she only shook her head, as if she didn’t want to speak about it. But when Bolton shrugged his shoulders and reached down for the tools as if he were going to ignore the matter altogether, Michayla spoke, “Grand Pa…”
She stopped, looking down to the ground for a moment; her tiny fingers were fiddling with each other while she seemed to think on a way to ask her question.
“Do you…”, once again she paused, this time Bolton raised a brow, creasing lines across his face. “Do I what?”, he prompted her.
“Do you… think you’re special?” Bolton blinked a few times, making sure he understood the question correctly, then suddenly burst out in laughter. Michayla’s perplexing expression quickly faded to be replaced by disappointed; a fact that didn’t escape Bolton.
Upon considering how important this seemed to his granddaughter, Bolton sat down slowly on a large boulder outcropping near the post where he had laid the tools and looked over to Michayla much more seriously now.
“Do I think I’m special?”, he repeated the question, briefly gazing skyward as if to ponder on the matter. His eyes evenly met the young girl’s and he gave up a firm nod.
“Yes, I do, honey.”
Michayla’s eyes immediately lit up, obviously interested for her grandfather to explain his answer. It took Bolton by surprise, but he decided not to dwell on it for too long. “You wanna know what makes me special?”, he asked and received an eager nod in turn.
Bolton leaned over to her slowly, as if bearing forth a deeply guarded secret, “My name.” he remarked, at length. Michayla didn’t know what to make of the answer and that was clear enough in her features. Her grandfather seemed confident in the answer he had given her, but it was far less dramatic than what she’d hoped for.
“Your name?”, she questioned, shaking her head a little.
“Yes, my name.” again, his reply was calm and confident. He shook a finger at the ten year-old, “Do you know what my name means?”.
Michayla sincerely shook her head, ignorant to the answer of his question. “Bolton is Old English, you know. It means Lord of the Manor Farm.”, Bolton spread his arms out, demonstrating his point by highlighting the land around him.
Michayla blinked, obviously confused. Bolton only smiled at her reassuringly, and continued to explain himself, “Your father’s name is Ewing, which is also Old English and means A Friend of the Law. He’s a lawyer, you see?”
The young girl tilted her head back gently, giving an enlightened expression; she listened intently as Bolton went on.
“We Angevines, my dear, are given to our names. Whatever our name means, we’ll become. My father—your great grand father—was named Reginald. That’s also Old English and it means A Wise and Powerful Ruler.”
Michayla tilted her little head to the left, quizzically, “Was he a powerful ruler, Grand Pa?”
Bolton nodded once again, “He was.” He let a pleased smile cover his face and studied his granddaughter for a moment. Her interest in his story was all that mattered at the moment.
“Your great grand father Reginald was Mayor here in Richland for seventeen years; and around here, you don’t get much higher than that.”
Michayla thought for a moment, then looked over to the old man. He knew the question she was about to ask, and that it was a tough one to answer. “What does my name mean, Grand Pa?”
“Michayla…” he paused, gauging how best to present the meaning of her name. At length, he answered with the same confidence he had always given to her.
“Michayla is an Old English spelling of a word that comes from Hebrew, honey.”
“Hebrew?”, she asked, perplexed.
“Yep. It literally asks a question in it’s meaning.” he replied, standing up from the boulder. She could tell his back was starting to bother him. Michayla went over and fetched Bolton’s tools for him so he wouldn’t have to bend over. As she held them up, she asked, “Well… what question does it ask?”
Bolton smiled to his inquisitive granddaughter and ruffled her hair as he took the tools. “It asks: Who is Like the Lord?”
He studied the girl for a while, understanding that for a ten year-old, his explanation would probably be confusing at first. He knew he’d have to talk to her about what that meant; perhaps tell her a story about human humility—he had plenty from personal experience. But Bolton was rather surprised when Michayla looked up and nodded quietly to him. “Alright.”
He chuckled and nodded back, then turned around toward the fence. “Now let’s get some work done!”
“Yes sir!”, she happily replied, moving her little hand over her pair of work gloves laying on the ground. Michayla glanced over quickly to make sure Bolton wasn’t looking as the gloves floated up to her grasp.
1: How have the Mandrettis been able to avoid the local and federal law enforcement for so long? (I feel that this needs a practical, but clever answer - nothing involving magical or supernatural means)
2: How could the FBI Group that has Michayla under secret investigation play further to the dramatic element of the storyline?
3: Who is "The Guardian" and why is he protecting Michayla? (feel free to be creative with this one - wondrous and fantastic answers more than welcome)
4: During the process of gaining Victor Mandretti's trust, what kinds of things can the characters, Michayla and Wesley, get in to?
5: What are some ideas as to the true source of Michayla special powers and bloodline?
Again, thanks for reading and I eagerly await responses.
Iz
1. This is kinda easy. They're the biggest mafia family in the city. That kind of reputation and deep pockets can easily cement your place as a "Don't touch me" kind of person.
2. Well, seeing as how the "Government sees people with special abilities as weapons" and "Government sees people with special abilities as threats" angles have been done to death, why not have the covert government agency act as protectors? They could try and help the person live a normal life, so they won't feel the need to use their abilities.
3. The Guardian could either be a Guardian Spirit, meant to watch over all the people of Michayla's bloodline or it could be another person with special powers seeking to manipulate Michayla to its own ends.
4. This could be any number of things from being caught in dangerous situations to being caught in compromising situations that could cause people to question their relationship.
5. Instead of something supernatural/magical/mystical, a person in her distant past could have come across and interbred with an alien refugee or crash survivor (think "Starman" without the "Alien's going to die in a few days if it doesn't reach its' ship"). Down the line, the ET's DNA could activate dormant code in human DNA leading to special abilities in that family line.
I'll admit #5 is more sci-fi than fantasy, but I don't see why it wouldn't work. Unless you figure in the "your name = your destiny" bit, then you're going to want to look for a divine link. Perhaps she's a descendant of Christ but he wasn't a child of a god, but instead was born with a certain DNA sequence that led to extraordinary abilities (I seen this in an Outer Limits episode >.> )
1. This is kinda easy. They're the biggest mafia family in the city. That kind of reputation and deep pockets can easily cement your place as a "Don't touch me" kind of person.
The Mandretti Family would certainly have that feel. However, her job (as far as Michayla knows) is to ultimately collect information on exactly how their business is handled. What do they do to keep their public warehouses clean while undoubtedly performing illegal activities without ever revealing it? I had thought that during the 1940s when everything came down hard on organized crime, the Mandretti Family laid low and waited it out. By the time they were ready to "start business" again, it was obvious that new strategies were needed. These strategies have to constantly be updated and upgraded to stay one step ahead of the officials. Of course, there's a certain amount of pay off and having various people in your pocket when needed as well. Perhaps the Mandrettis have endured because they've mastered legerdemain. They keep certain people on the "payroll" that can be tracked down and surveillanced, but those people actually do nothing illegal at all; their sole purpose is to lead local or federal law enforcement in their direction. (?)
Anyway, the thought here was to get a few ideas about how their operations might be played out as to elude the officials. Eventually, Michayla will discover these details.
2. Well, seeing as how the "Government sees people with special abilities as weapons" and "Government sees people with special abilities as threats" angles have been done to death, why not have the covert government agency act as protectors? They could try and help the person live a normal life, so they won't feel the need to use their abilities.
That's certainly a different take on how the government might react
Alright, so our X-File guys don't necessarily spell out terrible things for those that demonstrate these abilities. In the spirit of the TV Series "Heroes", I wonder how believable/interesting/fun it might be to say they'd offer such people an opportunity to work for the government. I think that would take away from the spirit of the setting I'm aiming for; not sure.3. The Guardian could either be a Guardian Spirit, meant to watch over all the people of Michayla's bloodline or it could be another person with special powers seeking to manipulate Michayla to its own ends.
Obvious approaches. My original idea for the Guardian was that he was like her, only having completely unlocked the secrets of what he was (whatever I decide that to be). Perhaps he's been around for several decades searching for the next (Hrm... that has a Ghost Rider feel to it). Anything else for this one?
4. This could be any number of things from being caught in dangerous situations to being caught in compromising situations that could cause people to question their relationship.
Yeah, I realize this is a wide open question. There's a lot that could/should happen in between here during Michayla's investigation. A lot of exactly what happens - or at least how it happens - will depend on how the characters develop as they go. I'm fortunate enough (I feel) to have players that prefer to develop their characters as they are played rather than have some predetermined path set in mind.
I guess what I was looking for here are random "one-liner" ideas for adventures of sort. Something that can be related to the type of campaign I have in store and perhaps even tied in to the situation given (mafia, FBI, strange past lurking near the surface, etc).
5. Instead of something supernatural/magical/mystical, a person in her distant past could have come across and interbred with an alien refugee or crash survivor (think "Starman" without the "Alien's going to die in a few days if it doesn't reach its' ship"). Down the line, the ET's DNA could activate dormant code in human DNA leading to special abilities in that family line.
I've definitely considered something along this line. I'm plenty full on angel/demon soup, myself. But we've run campaigns based on the alien angle as well, so if I did something like this it would have to be from a vantage that I've not done before; something creative. Dimensional travelers (*sigh* Indiana Jones & the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) or something therein. Meh, it's difficult for me because this one (#5) is the most important for me. It's the end game, so to say; the plot of the series. If it isn't something new and interesting - or at least old with a nice twist - it won't keep my interest for long.
Overall, thank you for the response! Feel free to add more (anyone).
Iz
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Thank you.That said, decide on a reasonable field of interests for the Mandrettis; even in fiction, specific groups tend to specific interests. They might like smuggling guns and drugs, for example, but stay out of slavery... or not.
(Al Capone used a furniture store as a front for money laundering. Plus, furniture can have all kinds of hidden and not-so-hidden drawers...)
2. We-ll, they probably won't have any real interest in powers of any sort. Telepathy won't hold up in court, etc. They'll be more focused on the Mandrettis, since Organized Crime is part of their mission statement. On the one hand, this means any solid evidence will bring the FBI in on your heroes' side; on the other, this means the FBI is likely to get in the way a little as they attempt to keep an eye on the Mandrettis.
3. The "Guardian" could readily be from a branch of Michayla's family hat protects her branch; or part of an organized power-agent group (if you want to go there) that's on special assignment (and unable to requisition much for fear the Mandrettis have someone in Quartermaster); or just a well-meaning do-gooder whose powers tell Michayla's "important". "In what way?" "I'm still figuring that one out."
4. Oof, gaining the trust of The Family? Be prepared to start out with piddling little missions that have foul implications (dropping off packages that are racket receipts, etc.) before being assigned anything important... and remember that only the top boys ever speak to Victor. It's called "plausible deniability", remember...
5. Ah, the theory part.
Let's see...Experimented on by aliens
Experimented on by unlicensed practitioners (although, for any solid bloodline, that would have to be quite some time ago... Victorian Age, perhaps?)
"The Calling"... talk about "no atheists in foxholes".
Exposed to strange radiations
Exposed to alien technology
Exposed to strange chemicals
"Cursed" with the powers.
I'd need more information on your interests to craft something more specific... there have been a lot of potential aliens and Mad Doctors down through the ages, after all.