Tuesday, January 14, 2014

On Partying: The beating heart and soul of Roymont

So since last night my mind's been abuzz with Roymont and I have like four and a half posts half-baked in my brain but they're all long and I'm at a restaurant waiting for my friends to show up so you get this one instead.

The most essential thing I have to prepare is a carousing table. It needs a deep and interesting carousing system. That system, whatever it ends up being, is the most important thing in Roymont.

Roymonters are dandies; they party just because. Because its what's there to do. If you sniff around for rumors about the Time-Hopping Interdimensional Commintern, you might wind up in fleeing an exploding warehouse in a high-stakes chase through St. Sham's, but if you sit down with your buddies for a few glasses of absinthe you know you're going to have a wild evening.

Carousing can't just be a way of spending your money behind the scenes - it's the main attraction. You don't get XP from having spent 600 dollars; you get XP because you drank a few too many and somehow wound up in some rich lady's parlour, and she had a manticore in a cage and the wizard let it out and it ran off with her best pearls and by the time you'd caught up to it it had descended on a crowd of revellers and you almost had it tied up when the goddamn police showed up (too late as always) and the thief lied his way out of it but sold everyone else up the creek. So then while the interrogator is readying his truth serum the thief busts you out through a passage to the Undertunnels he found but he pissed off some Craplings along the way so you need to get by those. So you finally make your way out of there and you stole this rad kaleidoscope that distorts things in real life when you point it at them, and it's dawn and that manticore is still around and you're wanted by the law for resisting arrest and unleashing a Manticore. But you've got this friend in City Hall who owes you a favour so he gets the police off your back and you stop by the tavern for an ale to kill this headache when the lady's stupid husband shows up and he's got some fucking amulet that puts a geas on you and you'll never digest food again unless you get that manticore and his wife's pearls. And that's when you notice you somehow managed to spend $600. So you're broke and your only thought is once you're done with this manticore you'll have to back to that effing dungeon to find some cool shit to pawn so you can afford to party again.

Damn, my friends are super late for dinner.

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