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The author introduces a reader to his style of prose and some of his goals with Chapter 1: How to Use This Book. In a nutshell, HotB is a game of passion and tragedy playing loosely with the ancient culture of ven nobility that was existent around the same time as Atlantis and Hyperborea. It makes no pretenses of being historically or culturally accurate, instead trying to capture the feeling of ven literature from the time (there’s a handy reference list for those interested, although I doubt copies of the relevant Miskatonic University Annual Anthrolopgy/Archaeology journal articles will be easy to track down). The author also states that he’s taken liberties with his style of writing, to better convey the feel of ven literature; a brilliant move I’ll come back to later.
Personally, I don’t care for the ven culture myself. A bunch of sociopathic hedonists more fixated with image than substance. But for those of you unfamiliar with their society, Chapter 2: Shanri and the Ven provides a good overview of their world. As a refresher, once upon a time the world (or at least the part we’re focusing on) was ruled by sorcerer-kings. These individuals created the ven as a servitor race, using ven blood to power their magics. Eventually, the sorcerer-kings destroyed themselves with their magics and the ven were set free to rebuild civilization. Unfortunately, the magics that destroyed the sorcerer-kings also created numerous monsters of various descriptions and powers (all contemptuously labeled “orks” by the ven) along with reshaping the world itself. Now the ven spend three seasons out of the years plotting and feuding, while seeking shelter from unnatural storms during the Winter season.
In order to survive this hostile world the ven built a culture around animal totems of a sort. Once there were more Houses, but now there are six. The Blooded of the Bear (somewhat barbaric northerners who value Strength), the Blooded of the Elk (who overestimated their Cunning at social manipulations and were nearly destroyed because of it), the Blooded of the Falcon (whose great Courage took them to the wild lands, and won them the respect of the peasants), the Blooded of the Fox (artists who work Beauty into every aspect of ven culture), the Blooded of the Serpent (who rely on their great Wisdom to help them master the forbidden sorceries left behind), and finally the Blooded of the Wolf (whose great martial Prowess is due in part to a desire for perfection, and in part for being mad berserkers). For those familiar with games like Vampire or Legend of the Five Rings, the six Houses feel less like traditional “splats” with unique powers and histories and more like a quick way to get players at each others’ throats; the differences between the Houses are really only as important as players want them to be.
A large portion of the chapter is also devoted to the symbolism of colors in ven culture, the diet and fashion sense of the ven, and so forth; not every aspect of their society is detailed, but quite a bit of expected and unexpected elements are on display. Of special note however are ven names. Each noble ven has three parts to their name: a family name which is part of their House, a public name the ven chooses for themselves when they come of age, and a secret name whispered into the ven’s ear by their mother. The secret name has great power, and while the game never mentions this directly I should point out: wise ven fear their mother.
Chapter 3: Character covers making a ven to play. You start by determining which two Houses your parents came from, because you will have to choose one of the two to ally with (I have to infer that ven do not marry within the same House, despite the numerous families each House contains). Your parents’ social standing is also important, as is whether your character is married and if they have any kids. You can choose all of these features or randomly roll them. Remember when I described the six Houses in the last paragraph, and each description had an italicized word? Those six words (Strength, Cunning, Courage, Beauty, Wisdom, and Prowess) are the Virtues of ven culture, and the measures of your character. Combining features of attributes and skills from other games, characters assign 4 points to one Virtue, 3 points to two other Virtues, 2 points to another 2 Virtues, and finally choose a Virtue to be a Weakness, meaning it gets no points. Finally, since each House has a Virtue associated with it, you get to assign an extra point based on your House’s Virtue (although your Weakness can’t get a point by this, or any other, means). In the end, five Virtues have points and one Virtue has none. I’ll come back to what this all means in a bit.
Equally important in your character’s creation is choosing Aspects for them. Fans of Spirit of the Century and other FATE-based games may be familiar with the concept of Aspects, but HotB’s take is slightly different mechanically. Basically an Aspect is some sort of character trait or description that is (ideally) something both helpful and hindering to a character. An Aspect like “uncontrollable rage of a master warrior” or “everybody loves her, and she loves everybody” are generally better than “master warrior” or “everybody loves her”. Here is where you can offset your Virtue Weakness a bit; you still don’t get any points, but you can (for example) have a Weakness in Prowess but take an Aspect of “noteworthy student of the Moshan sword style”. Your character can “invoke” his Aspect to gain dice in a sword-fight, but opponents who could be familiar with the style could “tag” the Aspect to gain dice to reflect their familiarity with defending against it, while friends and foes alike could “compel” the Aspect as a means to possibly coerce the character into aiding a fellow student or defending the reputation of the style. Now don’t bother looking for the Moshan sword style in the book; it’s something I made up on the fly and it isn’t in there. But players creating and defining the setting is a huge part of HotB (and usually other FATE-based games as well). Anyway, starting characters have two Aspects. Honestly, two seems awfully small to start with, especially considering that they come with negative connotations (tags and compels) and cost Style points to spend, but it’s easy enough to increase that number. Characters also start with one Contact that is apparently meant to be one of the other PCs, but the rules don’t really explain anything about why this is a good thing until around 200 pages later.
During character creation players also choose which Suaven they are devoted to (gaining benefits in relation to the amount of their devotion, with the greatest powers coming to those who don’t divvy up their worship), the nature of their domain and vassals (each character has a domain composed of 10 regions, but I’ll come back to this in a bit), and some bonus points to spend. Bonus points allow your ven to start with magical items, extra Aspects, more Devotion points, extra region points, and other goodies. All that’s left to do is come up with a public (and secret) name and its meaning.
The basic task resolution system is covered in Chapter 4: Risk. You take a number of six-sided dice equal to your Virtue, roll them, and try to get 10 or higher. Want more dice? If the meaning of your public name is relevant you can state it and get an extra die. Saying your secret name is magical and worth three dice, but anyone who hears it knows your secret name (and this rule is pretty much forgotten elsewhere). You can also invoke your relevant Aspects for three dice, or tag or compel your opponent’s relevant Aspects that you know about (and you have to know about them before you can tag or compel) for two dice. At this time I should point out that the first time you invoke an Aspect it’s free, but after that it costs Style points. Likewise, every tag or compel of an Aspects costs Style when you use it against someone or earns you style when it happens to you. Of course there are several exceptions to these rules; some negative Aspects like Injuries have no positive feature to invoke and cost no Style to tag or compel (although you still earn Style when yours Injuries are used against you). Finally, you can only invoke one Aspect per roll; you can tag and compel as many as you want, but you can only invoke one.
Players then take their dice, and try to roll 10 or higher. But wait! Say you’re rolling six dice. You feel confident that you’ll roll at least a 10, so you instead choose to wager two dice and only roll four dice. Each wager lets you state one element of the outcome if you make the roll, and these facts can be pretty much anything you want but they can’t contradict an established fact. In the case of contested rolls, the highest roller wins and all of his wagers are accepted while the loser (assuming he rolls 10 or higher as well) gets to use half of his wagers. In cases where extra wagers make no sense, winners may instead choose to convert them to Style points. Okay, so say you roll above 10 and have your wagers. Now you dictate whether you succeed or not, and then spend your wages establishing facts about the outcome. For example, a successful stealth roll with two wagers might look like “I successfully hide in the kitchen pantry” (success), “but a serving girl with the search party sees me” (wager) “and she winks at me as the party passes by” (wager).
Chapter 5: Virtues and Chapter 6: Aspects go into more detail and give examples of how the Virtues and Aspects are meant to be used (or not) and several examples of each. Good, handy chapters for people still trying to figure out how it all works.
One of the neat little features in this game is Chapter 7: Poison. It’s a short chapter, only 10 pages or so, but the fact that poisons and narcotics get their own chapter really says a lot about who the ven were as a people. They’re murderous junkies who take pride in getting addicted and overcoming it. Okay, that’s a gross oversimplification, but it sums up my attitudes. And I like that the author includes rules for poisons only as a gesture to the gamer desire to not have “instant kill” methods at their enemies disposal; reality rarely allows people a chance to resist high doses of properly administered arsenic for instance.
Being creatures of violence, Chapter 8: Revenge covers how the ven approach law, duels, violence, and justice. I’m not sure what to make of Poison coming before Revenge, but that’s neither here nor there. Those wanting more complex combat options than “injure” and “defend” will find a light combat maneuver system. Dueling is also presented both as a setting element and a series of mechanics. If the combat isn’t considered a duel of one combatant against another, then the ven label it “Mass Murder” and rules for multiple combatants are provided. Actual warfare, like actual armies, don’t really exist in HotB, but Mass Murder is a suitable substitution.
And now a sensitive subject. Chapter 9: Romance. Some players will balk at the idea of playing out love stories with their friends, others have no problem with it. Either way the material here is good and angsty and treacherous. And the best part is that players are encouraged to play through it all with that great carrot: “mechanical bonuses”. Starting a new romance gets you dice (potentially lots of dice) when doing something for your love. And of course a good ven would use a romance to manipulate their lover into wanting the same things they want. “Of course I’ll help you overthrow my spouse so we can rule instead!” But there are also benefits to brutally breaking your lover’s heart, and seeking revenge against your lover. The entire premise of romance however is one of drama. You’re not supposed to love your partner, unless it’s to set up a greater tragedy later. Okay, the rules don’t outright say as such, but I’m going to pretend it’s an unspoken implication. Why is this all sensitive? It’s handled in a mature way with only one sentence even mentioning sex. The problem is, I’m afraid a lot of groups might be turned off by the idea of playing “mushy stuff”. That said, the material here is really good and a mature group should have no problem with it.
Chapter 10: Seasons is big. Or at least it feels big. HotB is one of those games where time passes, characters age, and they have responsibilities. As such, a whole chapter is devoted to such things. You’ll want to read it, and then read it again, before you try to use it. Maybe read it a third time. Building your domain, hiring your vassals, committing espionage, raising your “personal guard” against a neighbor (armies are forbidden in ven society, and too expensive anyway), secretly brewing poisons, and other actions are all part and parcel of your character’s existence. Earlier I said I’d go into more detail about domains and regions. Well, I lied. Okay, I’ll give you a bit more information. Each domain is composed of 10 regions. Of these 10 regions, PCs start with a castle and a village both rated at 1, and 5 points to rate other regions. Regions could be forests, mountains, farms, or basically any large area that has some worth. As time passes, regions can grow and become worth more, rising in rating to reflect their increased output. The whole thing becomes almost a resource management side game, and basically serves as a story-driving substitute for the classic “leveling up” mechanics of other games. In HotB your land raises in levels, not your character. The only real complaint I had was that there was no mention of how domains and regions relate to one another geographically. I understand the free form nature of the game doesn’t really mesh well with maps and established facts, but I think playing groups would benefit greatly knowing who their neighbors are and how much land is “free” before they have to go stealing it from said neighbors. The chapter also includes information on how the ven host parties and art exhibits, have children, and get old. Ven don’t die from age though; remember, I only ever said they were quasi-human.
Earlier your character may have purchased a ritual or an artifact with bonus points during character creation. Chapter 11: Sorcery explores just what that means. First of all is sorcery. It’s exceptionally powerful, but usually either short-lasting or especially monstrous. It’s also costly, costing resources and inflicting an Injury on the caster. It’s also illegal; every House uses it, but nobody is supposed to. The ven are not D&D style spell casters who form special schools and can cast half-a-dozen or more spells per day, but rather they’re more mysterious and menacing and their magic more rare. Artifacts are equally rare, and even more damning. Each one offers great and varied power, but also brings misfortune and failure to the character. Regular and repeated failure, to the point that a ven should ask themselves if the artifact is really worth it or not.
The ven grow old and feeble over time, but they do not die of old age. Instead, they spin a cocoon of sorts around their bodies and become known as “Suaven”, ancient saint-like beings to other ven and the subject matter of Chapter 12: Suaven. The ven do not believe in a soul or afterlife, but they see the slumbering Suaven as something to be protected. Worshipped even. And in return the Suaven hear the prayers of those who would serve them, and answer their Devotions. The system allows ven to serve multiple Suaven, but the really good powers come from extreme servitude to a single Suaven. Also of note is the possibility for old (N)PCs to age and join the ranks of the Suaven themselves, and bestow blessings and wrath while they slumber. Unlike D&D where characters engage in epic quests to achieve immortality, every ven can reach this plateau of Suaven power. All they have to do is survive.
I’ll admit it. I hate little essays about the art of game playing, or the philosophy behind it. By this point in my life I’ve read enough books and played enough games that usually they don’t offer or say anything new. Which is why Chapter 13: Player really surprised me. It was frank, engaging, specific to HotB when it needed to be but applicable to other games as well. It was a rarity, in that it actually said something new to me about the nature of gaming and gamers. And it also had some good advice for how to play the game. Amusingly, it even had advice for min-maxers, which basically boiled down to getting them so connected to the other players and the setting that it made min-maxing a truly valid means for character empowerment… as well as painting a giant bulls eye on the min-maxing character. Give them what they want, while they work themselves into stories. Very clever.
Chapter 14: Narrator is a hodge podge of sorts for GMs. Rules for creating orks and specters are provided, examples of adventures and how three different groups played it out are described, some rather dark foes are mentioned in depth, and a little bit of advice on running HotB helps round it all out. Not as great as the last chapter, but nothing bad either. And for those worrying: there’s no metaplot.
For Style I give HotB a middle of the range 4. Art is minimal, but good. Layout is clean and attractive, without hardly any wasted space. Openly writing the book in the style of the ven literature is brilliant, giving the book a patronizing and contemptuous feel that really captures the essence of a society of self-serving hedonists hiding beneath masks of civility. It’s really, really good. Unfortunately, it’s also hard to use as a gaming reference manual. Rules are mentioned in one place, forgotten in another. Rules summaries are incomplete. The index is large, but still lacking. I think I know how it all works, despite the oversights and somewhat complicated organization, but a game this simple shouldn’t be this hard to use. Better organization and reference aids would bump this up to a 5.
My stance on Substance is a bit easier. It’s a strong 5. What’s odd is that for a game where players can define and refine the setting in the middle of play, there’s a lot of depth in terms of setting and cultural feel. It’s all carefully undeveloped, to intentionally better allow players to establish for themselves how different the Houses are from one another or even what the major NPCs are up to. Normally I’d point to this as “lazy developer syndrome” but I really don’t think that’s the case at all here. Instead, HotB is a game that players are expected to expand and build upon, yet it still provides a surprising amount of detail for players to start mucking with. Mechanically HotB provides an interesting take on the FATE system that I think devotees should look at as an example of pushing the mechanics into a different direction than some of the other games out there.
Who Should Get This? If you like fantasy games where the progression of time is important, like Ars Magica or Pendragon, HotB might be for you. Likewise, it has strong elements of social scheming and plotting that would likely attract fans of Vampire: the Masquerade or Vampire: the Requiem. Plus its light mechanics and domain management sub-systems should intrigue some players. Those wanting to play an Elric-like game or a game of decadent noble snobs, but don’t like any of the existing options, should give this one a serious look.
Who Shouldn’t Get This? Sometimes you just want to throw fireballs and smite monsters and power-up. HotB can be used for that kind of gaming, to a limited extent, but it’s not really its strong suit at all. HotB really seems designed more for long term campaigns, where the action culminates in a castle’s dance hall after months of preparation, negotiation, and betrayals. If you’re just wanting D&D or Warhammer Fantasy Role-Playing, you’d really be better off playing one of those instead.
Conclusion: HotB is one of those games that really impressed me. From its mechanics, its domain management, its somewhat alien ven, and its desire to empower players and GMs alike, it’s a really good game. It also quite coincidentally sets the bar for what an RPG-related essay should look like.
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