Cold Opens: Comrade

Comrade: The Allegiance cover image. The title over a black and white image of roses growing along a brick wall.
There's another version of this where the colors of the flowers corresponded with each of the player archetypes, but my photo editing skills aren't good enough to make it not look like basura.

The second game in The Blight Trilogy, Comrade: The Allegiance is a game that started as a submission to Spencer Campbell's second Lumen Game Jam. Once In A Red Valley was set, I had a vague idea that I wanted to have an East Coast response to the event that kicks everything off. I'd already seeded the notion of powerful vampires and other supernatural creatures fleeing to greener pastures, so I knew it would involve the players defending themselves from an invasion of some sort. When I took a look at the Lumen system's flagship game Light, and its homage to the multiplayer FPS Destiny, taking it to a TTRPG-meets-video game space clicked into place. In my case I never really played Destiny like that, so I thought back to what sort of video game I did put a lot of hours (and in some cases, quarters), the beat-em-up.

If you are of a certain vintage, you remember when the beat-em-up—a game genre that basically does what it says on the tin, your take your guys from the left end of the level to the right, beating up a bunch of other guys along the way—was king. In the arcade you had X-Men, The Simpsons, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and a bunch of games from Capcom's CPS1 and CPS2 arcade boards.

Alien vs. Predator on the CPS2 board was one of my favorites.

On consoles, my personal GOAT series was Sega's Streets of Rage.

Yuzo Koshiro sprinkled coke all over this soundtrack.

Lumen's base mechanics (succinct movesets, waves of enemies, drops, encouraging teamwork) mapped really well onto the feel of those games, so that made for a good skeleton. For the heart and the muscles, I went to a couple of the other things I spent a bunch of my time on with friends as a yout'.

My first real serious attachment to TTRPGs came with White Wolf's World of Darkness franchise, thanks to a family friend gifting me a copy of Vampire: The Masquerade when I was 13, and I played in tons of games both in person and online. In the latter case, I spent years—from high school on into college—playing in an online game set in a fictional North Carolina college town where every corner of the WoD mingled, scrapped, and flirted with one another. In a nod to how a lot of that play went, I decided rather than just humans facing off against these out-of-towners, the players would be supernatural rivals turned allies.

Once I hit my young adult years, I started participating in my local punk and rap scenes, helping to promote shows, college radio shit, forging relationships that felt more like being in the trenches with comrades rather than simply making friends. So I tried to capture that sense of camaraderie and "us against the world" vibe, and since I'd committed to aping the house style for all the old WoD books, shoving it full of song lyrics that matched the vibes was pretty easy to do.

"You're in the same barrel all us other crabs are caught/And if I have to live, you have to live, whether you like this shit or not." - El-P

With all that mushed together, the game is kind of love letter to my adolescence, in a way. So, the cold open. I was trying to capture both the over-the-top action your players will be getting into, and the melodramatic version of the World of Darkness me and my online friends messed around with. Make it punchy and quick, so it feels like the intro to one of the video games that inspired it. Establish the "me and my crew against the world" tone that you oughta aspire to. Hopefully, make the reader feel like I felt when I was doing any of that bullshit I described up above.

Update: Again adding the playlist for the game, 'cause it was late and I forgot.


Preface: Protection

“Getting tired, leech?” Somehow, underneath the rough and guttural rasp of Stands-in-Flame’s voice, Christian could detect the hint of a smirk.

“Just catching my breath.” They both knew that was a lie, though if he had actually needed to draw breath, the multitude of broken ribs would’ve made it difficult.

The hordes of vampires from out-of-town descended upon their city as soon as the sun went down; Christian and a handful of unlikely allies joined together to meet them at the city outskirts with whatever resistance they could muster. Despite advanced warning from a powerful and well-regarded seer of the coming danger, none of them could manage a united front from their respective communities: Most of Stands-in-Flame’s fellow werewolves wouldn’t deign to stand in the same space as a vampire without coming to claws and fangs, let alone working with them. When the mage of the crew tried to recruit their coven, they got them all to agree on one thing—that it was a trap. The hunter? She didn’t even bother trying. As far Christian, he wasn’t particularly well-liked by his own kind already, so the vampires weren’t in a hurry to stick their necks out on his behalf.

All this motley crew had was each other, but so far that had been enough. Barely. This was the first lull in the assault since it had started, and they had hours to go until sunrise. Along with the numbers, the invaders were well-organized, well-outfitted, and seemingly possessed with an unyielding ferocity. The last wave was particularly brutal—they brought out an APC, complete with a grenade launcher, which is what put Christian on his back. He struggled to get to his feet, but as he faltered, a massive arm of muscle and black fur held him steady.

“You’re not done yet…Christian.” Not leech, or parasite, but his given name. And this was the first time that a werewolf had touched him without the intent to turn him to dust.

“No, I don’t suppose I am.” He looked up at his unlikely companion in battle, and though she stood two feet taller than him, the past few hours of defending their city had brought them shoulder-to-shoulder.

“You two need a minute? I’m sure me and Frank Castle can go play cards while y’all make out, or whatever.” Tracy snorted as they waved their hands in strange patterns, and seconds later a perimeter of protective runes surrounded them all. For her part, ‘Frank Castle’ slung an assault rifle over their shoulder and peered out at the horizon through a pair of night vision binoculars.

“We got more comin’. And it’s not just vamps.” On cue, an unearthly tritone of howls echoed in the distance. Stands-in-Flame’s hackles raised, and she growled.

“Not friends of yours, I wager.” Christian chuckled through a grimace, as he channeled blood into knitting his ribs back into place. “Well, let’s give them a proper welcome.”

DJ Regular

DJ Regular

Game and Music Lover. Writer. Unfortunate optimist. "Spare me the Hallmark Karl Marx."
SF Bay Area