GM Confidence: 3.75/5. I think the session went reasonably well, on its own merits, despite a few “normal” missteps. But “external” factors left a sour taste that had me pull the plug on the whole campaign afterward (temporarily, as it turns out). As a result, though, it’s taken a long time to get around to this review. I’ll include a bit about what happened after, and what happens next.

The Session

What Went (Mostly) Right

I started with an in media res, big combat, as is typical for me. It serves a purpose: gets the players (and GM) acclimated to their characters and abilities, and reminds them of things they might’ve missed. I expected it to take most of the session; it did. Despite some setbacks and mistakes, it actually went relatively smoothly, and unfolded more-or-less as expected.

I’m happy with how the “presentational” aspects worked out. The newsreader segment will be an ongoing feature, an opportunity to deliver some background exposition that doesn’t usually come up naturally in-game (exception: Generica—it’s much like the “town herald” in that campaign). I made full use of Fantasy Grounds’ lighting and other map features; I re-familiarized myself with all of that beforehand. I’m happy with how the graphics turned out, and I’m looking forward to getting to unveil more of that as we go. I enjoyed the players’ reactions to the Byers reveal—more of that coming in the future.

What Went (Nearly) Wrong

It’s always easier to focus on the negatives. To be fair, in this case, it’s mostly nitpicking and minor “shoulda-dones.” Among them:

• The map really was too big, but that was a calculated-risk.
• I intended to establish the PCs’ combat objectives before the fight kicked off; that didn’t happen. It would have helped clear some confusion and focus PCs’ actions.
• The starting positions and setup was a little muddy, worsened by Vincent’s “late arrival.” I should have gotten specific individual intentions first (see previous), established the timing, then executed. Also, I needed a distance-based Stealth result (that is, margin of success/failure determines the encounter distance).
• I should have realized I needed motorcycle tokens.
• I missed that some PCs had Dark Vision, night-vision optics, and Detect (Evil Creatures) in my character review, so I wasn’t prepared for those elements. This cost me some time sorting it out.
• Kolchak’s “hang back and observe/support” approach was probably a legitimate play of that character, but it meant that I had a higher Bad Guy-to-active-PC ratio than I expected/intended, which caused the fight to take longer. Honestly, I should have anticipated this.
• I should have realized there was going to be “vaulting of the chainlink fence” and prepared for success/failure on that.
• I should have realized I needed lorry stats (also dimensions, but that’s a bit more excusable).
• I was not prepared for someone “stabbing a katana through the lorry door/window” or potentially “riding along”—that’s just a “GMing Incident.” Side note: The rear doors of the lorries should have been open, which would likely have changed Robert’s approach in the first place—oops.
• I should have familiarized myself with the new “damage handling” feature in the Fantasy Grounds ruleset beforehand; I lost a little time getting acquainted.
• I should have given some thought to potential head/limb-severing issues, knowing that many of the PCs are sword-focused. In retrospect, “Unwelcome Attention,” MH2:8, covers this.
• I took a bit too much time scrambling to explain/justify the lack of a Judo skill-based damage bonus (in the Basic rules anyway).
• There should have been a “squeezing” issue when swinging swords in the cramped (1 yd) space between the vehicles. I already know/knew how to handle it (from Underground Adventures; counts as Close Combat), it just didn’t occur to me until afterward.
• The Big One: I mis-clicked and “deleted all” tokens—that was stupid. Ultimately, there’s no way to prepare for that sort of thing. “GMing Incident.” Fortunately, with some additions to the ruleset to automatically handle the condition counters, that is far less likely to happen in the future.
• The Next Big One: The early departure of Kolchak’s player, who is (was) the party’s primary investigator, caused me to wrap up early and not do the post-fight investigation segment, which in turn, meant that I did not know what the party intended to do next, which in turn, meant that I had no way to properly prep the next session. I didn’t realize until afterward how I had painted myself into a corner with that.
• Issues with individual PC character-builds caused delays/problems, but that will be covered later.
• I gave some PCs Bad Luck for various reasons, but I keep “waiting for the right moment” to execute, and I never see it until it’s too late.

Miscellaneous

• I decided I would “take more breaks,” specifically when I know something is going to take time to set up. It didn’t go unnoticed.
• Byers taking off in the truck wasn’t part of the original plan—that was improvised—but it probably should have been. It wasn’t the reveal I wanted, but maybe I’ll get that in Round 2.
• I did get a little use out of Fantastic Dungeon Grappling in this one—one “grab”—but we’ll definitely see more of it later.
• I was paying special attention to the potential for collateral damage from stray bullet fire, especially from Mr. Spray-and-Pray, with all the “noncombatants” present. I actually had the “Occupants Hit” rules on standby. The PCs managed to keep their guns pointed in a generally enemy-ward orientation, this time.

The Aftermath

Death

While the session, itself, had gone reasonably well, behind-the-scenes, I felt like the campaign was unraveling. I touched on the pregame issues in the Campaign Introduction preceding this article. I’ll just summarize: there were problems brewing before we started. My conclusion in hindsight: it boils down to “poor communication,” “issues stemming from poor communication,” and “investment imbalance.”

So, basically, the same thing that happened to The Debt, despite my engineering to avoid exactly that.

Issues Stemming from Poor Communication

I have a saying that goes something like “In a failure of communication, both parties are always to blame.” Among other things, one purpose of “Session Zero” is to clearly communicate the GM’s needs and expectations to the players. I figured a (virtual) face-to-face was the most-effective way to ensure everyone’s attention. Yet the players still found their own ways to miss, misunderstand, and/or ignore key elements. Based on the results, I (we) apparently failed to do that. I’m still not certain of a possible remedy. Some failure examples:

• My expressed intention was for players to collaborate regarding their characters. This did not occur. Combined with my (intentional) non-involvement, the PC builds and group dynamic suffered for it.
• Using Bad Luck as a deterrent to “inattention” did nothing, but enforcing that rule made me feel terrible—it wasn’t meant to actually get used.
• Of the three characters using firearms, only one of them bothered to use the spreadsheet painstakingly created, and specifically pointed out for their use, including a tutorial video, to avoid them tallying up all the mods “the hard way” during combat.
• There were multiple instances of “selective hearing” regarding rulings about how things would work, or important background elements, or things I wanted players to prepare for, that had been specifically called out before the game and/or agreed to.
• There were instances of players saying “if X is the case” when I specifically pointed out that “X is the case” during Session Zero.

Investment Imbalance

For the record: I take my GMing “Art/Craft” pretty seriously. I give 100% effort, because it’s who I am. I have no “stun setting.” It can be exhausting. I also recognize that many/most of my players don’t care how much effort I’ve put into it—not consciously. They just show up to hang out, goof off, have some fun, then pick up where we left off next week. They can take it or leave it. They’re not here to work. They’re not here to get yelled at or punished. I’ve had to learn over the last few decades (ugh!) how to live with that. There’s a balance that must be struck, which is inevitably upset every time the roster changes.

I’ve learned to ask as little as possible of the players outside the game-session itself. But if I’m giving 100%, and the players grumble and/or can’t be bothered about the 5% I do ask of them? I keep using the phrase “Return on Investment.” Is the toil and suffering I have to endure as GM worth it, when the players would be just as happy with a few half-assed bullet points and a lot of messy improvisation? Ultimately, after the pilot session, I found myself answering that question with a lamentable “No. I don’t think it is.”

Death-Rattle

After the session, I spent too much energy trying to find an acceptable path forward, to the point of having problems getting to sleep. To stop doing it “for the players,” but “for the audience,” eventually proved to be insufficient motivation. After a few weeks, I just couldn’t re-engage enough to find a way out of the “painted corner” the campaign had been left in by its abbreviated ending. Finally, I announced I had given up.

I did look into possible alternatives. I suggested Redacted 4—its predecessor being the last thing I managed to successfully run—the response was somewhat tepid. I then turned to the published adventure series for Nordlonð, which I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve not run a “module” like that before, and hoped the “hard part already having been done” might be enough.

Resurrection

I eventually put it to a vote, before I got dug in too deep on a new project. The players said they preferred Nightcrawlers over the alternatives, so I said I’d give it a few days to see if I could make it work. Mercifully, I finally found my “path forward.” I guess taking a break to work on other things did its job.

In short, the new plan involves cutting the table back to four players (now including FX’s “wizard” character)—maybe temporary; an upcoming “Re-Zero” session to clean up the mess; getting hands-on with the characters; and a non-do-over do-over of the pilot session, to get us back where we were supposed to have ended. This won’t eliminate the existing problems, or prevent the inevitable new ones, but it should help.

I really wanted this one to succeed, if only for all the work I put into it already (much like The Debt), besides its own merits, and I’m glad we’re moving forward with it now. Now if I can just ensure that my resolve holds…

I’ve been working this new campaign for a while now. It’s inevitable enough, now, that it will see the light of day, that I feel safe to finally, properly introduce it.

This campaign will be a mix of Monster Hunters and Supers with an exclusive(?) focus on clearing the City™ of a vampire infestation. This campaign will (probably) exist in the same continuity as Knight City Chronicles, and share the same cinematic flavor and rules options (crossovers are unlikely, though I won’t rule it out entirely). It will feature rules and concepts from Monster Hunters, including (a lot of) “The Hunt,” based on a series of hidden objectives you will have to uncover as you go. There will be no linear narrative; this will be the characters’ story, based solely on the decisions you make and their consequences. There will be no quarter given; hardcore/”iron-man” rules—no fudging, no gimmes, and no mercy.

History

Just because my previous attempt at GMing ended early/poorly doesn’t mean I can rest. In fact, it was mere weeks before I had started figuring out what I might try next, bearing some of those lessons-learned in mind. Once again, I knew I needed something “easy” to assemble and conduct—hopefully, easier than The Debt turned out to be, anyway—while avoiding certain pitfalls I had dug for myself in that attempt, in an effort to keep my stress-levels low.

What I really wanted to run was the Knight City Chronicles (Supers) campaign we had started years ago. But the current player-group just won’t do the necessary homework to make the complicated behind-the-scenes structure work. This left me with a couple of choices: either rewire the KCC structure to better suit the current group, or do something similar-but-new. Tangentially, one of the players had been wishing to play a proper RPM spellcaster in a Monster Hunters campaign. Somehow I ended up putting those two together into a Blade-style vampire-killers thing, and got to work on the particulars. I consider this campaign to be set in the same “universe” as KCC—in fact, the first session features a foray into Knight City—but I don’t plan on having any actual character crossovers from the other campaign.

And so, a couple of months after the end of The Debt, on 10 March 2025, I revealed the first banner for Nightcrawlers—nothing else. I wanted to tease it out this time, rather than get everyone all excited only to wait 5 months before it would arrive. Actually, I wanted to wait as long as possible to start talking to them about it at all.

Campaign Overview

Character Sources

I made a list of “ripoff/homage” characters from literary or cinematic sources (see the Pitch, above) for the players to choose from (or be inspired by); strongly suggested, but not strictly required. This would focus the character possibilities on a range of what I considered “fitting,” while eliminating the need for extensive background and detail that would normally drag out the creation process. My true intention, though, is for the players to give some honest thought to the sort of narrative they want to build, and work together to create characters to support it.

Sandbox City

This campaign will take place in a re-skinned Detroit, called “Motor City.” It is not my first non-linear, sandbox narrative, driven entirely by the players’ choices, successful or otherwise. Rather than bring the action to the PCs like I normally do, I intend to remain “passive”—to sit back, and let the players drive. The world and its denizens will still react to their choices, of course, and events will still occur on a schedule. But I will absolutely let the PCs get lost in a self-imposed side-quest and miss the big events entirely. Easier said than done, I know.

The established PC goal is to wipe out the vampires from the city. To that end I have twelve vampire nests/operations within the city, each using Monster Hunters 2 “The Hunt” as a basis for resolving them. A few will be revealed at the beginning, while the rest will need to be uncovered in-game. I’ve taken inspiration from Night’s Black Agents, and its Conspiramid/Vampyramid concept, as a basis for the nest hierarchy and their reactions to PC contact.

Ascetic GMing

To the previous point: For the GM, “desire” is the session-killer. At the forefront of my new effort has been the removal of desire from my GMing mindset: desire regarding the narrative direction; desire regarding the theme or tone; desire regarding the makeup of the PCs; desire for PCs to get to Point-A and trigger the ambush; desire for PCs to succeed. It has been my intention to push this “weight,” instead, onto the players. During the Session-Zero, I had a mantra: IDGAF. Ultimately, it’s not true, of course—I can’t help but GAF—but if I repeat it often enough…

To this end, though, with regards to the characters, I implemented a strict “no pursuit” rule (which I inevitably ended up bending a little): no arm-twisting, teeth-pulling, etc., to get the players to give me the info I need. I would just ensure there are consequences if they don’t, and let them occur.

Hardcore & Cinematic

For numerous reasons, I decided to implement “Iron Man” rules in this campaign. TTRPGs are normally a “perma-death” situation already, but here, it means a few things: no fudging GM die rolls; no character “grace period” (where players are allowed to tweak characters at will); no GM “Are you sure?” warnings for bad decisions, and no take-backs (within reason, of course); no access to traits, gear, or background features not implicitly or explicitly recorded on the character sheet, forum, etc.; no “gimmie” clues or GM assistance; and so on. On top of that, vampires are not going to be disposable mooks, but even individually, very serious threats. Campaign BAD will start at zero and increase every time a nest is taken out, with no cap. Overall, when the PCs succeed (or survive), I want them to feel like they truly earned it.

That said, as per KCC (and Supers in general), PCs have full access to Monster Hunters templates and their cinematic abilities and powers, as well as Supers, which should increase their survivability dramatically. And I will be using most rules simplifications from the Action or Monster Hunters series (and some from DFRPG), though we tend to do that anyway, these days.

PRESENTATION!

Like The Debt, I have gone to great effort to level-up the presentational aspects of the game: graphics, mechanics, scripting, organization, the wiki, making full use of the Fantasy Grounds features, and preparedness in general. There was so much I had planned for The Debt that I didn’t get to use (yet), and I intend to make up for it.

Other Features

• The non-linear, player-driven aspect of the campaign structure will result in a bit of a different feel than most. I won’t have any real control over pacing or narrative focus or structure. But past non-linear efforts of mine have turned out reasonably well, so I’m not overly concerned.
• A single-city-based campaign allows for PCs to come and go easily, to allow for player absences or swapping/changing characters. I expect the roster to change from time-to-time.
• In addition to Night’s Black Agents, I’m also making use of elements from the Dresden Files RPG, mostly, the city-building, and setting aspects.
• Use of “AI” in certain creative aspects seems to be becoming nearly, if not actually, ubiquitous. I have declared that I would not be using AI in the creation of this campaign. However, I must admit that I’ve found myself bending that rule a bit, making use of AI in a number of not-exactly-“creative” ways (primarily otherwise-tedious research.)
• This campaign will, again, make use of Fantastic Dungeon Grappling. I’ve warned the players that it will “definitely see a lot of use”—vampires will get grabby.

Best-Laid Plans

I had wanted to wait as long as possible to do Session Zero for this one, as stated above. However, my window-of-opportunity where I could get all involved players on at the same time (during a period where some were not regularly available) resulted in having to conduct it a couple of months ahead of the start-date I had been targeting. Not ideal, but fine.

My desires (see “Asceticism” above) toward the PC group faltered somewhat during/after the Session Zero. I didn’t require strict adherence to the “existing character references,” which has resulted in some (potential) hiccups. The players did what I didn’t want them to do: after Session Zero, they separated to their respective corners of the internet and built their characters, as usual, in relative “isolation,” not coordinating with the others at all. Rarely have I witnessed a TTRPG player group consider the big-picture and police each others’ character designs in the way I intended, and this turned out to be no exception. It sounded good, but I’m not sure why I thought it would actually happen.

We had some new players join for our recent Traveller campaign, and I decided to invite them all. It would bring the total player-count to seven, though—which is a no-go for me—so I had planned to restrict the number of “seats at the table” and allow them to “tag in” regularly, or fill in when absences occurred. This ended up not being necessary in the end: at the kickoff, there will be only five PCs, with one joining later.

As things progressed, it turned out I would be starting the campaign in the last quarter of the year, which is the worst possible time, due to work, and other stresses. I waffled greatly over what to do about it. There was some negotiation with the other GM(s), and we ended up deciding the Ronnke and I would do a “two-weeks-on/two-weeks-off” rotation, which would allow us both a little more breathing room, at the cost of the players having to regularly “switch gears”—annoying, but acceptable. It may be temporary, anyway, or we may decide it works better, and keep it. I had planned for a short run of maybe eight sessions, but if the rotation works out, I may push for longer. We’ll see.

Finally

But now my planned vacation at the end of October is approaching, and Ronnke’s Conan adventure has run a little long. So it looks like I’ll be running the kickoff session, and then breaking until the next rotation. It happens. Even so, at this point, I’m about as ready as I’m going to get, and eager to get this damned thing under way.