Succession Rules

We will use the Succession Role-Playing Game. It's an open source rule set based on Dungeons and Dragons and derivatives. I prepared the manual. Check out the gorgeous public domain images, poetry, and prose used therein. You can find a pdf version here:
Players Manual - Low Resolution

You can find a higher resolution version of the manual here:
Players Manual - Medium Resolution

The hard copy version isn't available yet. I need to finish formatting it for print and go over the rules a little more. The hard copy should be ready within two weeks. It will cost about $15.00 plus shipping for the full color version and considerably less for the black and white version. I'm not making any money on the manuals. The price pays for the cost. The PDF versions are complete, so if you don't feel like paying for print, you don't have to.

Ramshaw

There is Eldro and there is Andro, two Gods birthed in the fires of Saros but born to different ways of thought and action. Eldro dwelt in palatial majesty in a great city in the east. Andro dwelt in solitude by the Nivece Lake. Eldro took no council from any god or man; Andro sought the council of god and man alike. Where Eldro had no compassion, Andro had love and generosity that knew no bounds. Yet, due to the nature of their birth, it was difficult to tell the two gods apart. A veil of fire concealed their features from gods and men alike, and only the very wise could tell them apart.

Ramshaw looked about nervously. He didn't like the Purple Moon and its clientèle, but his purpose required such a place and such people.

Ramshaw's employer wanted to find out what was going on at the Piatt Castles. The village had not heard from the castles in several days. Farmers fleeing from the area reported marauding militia from the East, but the area near the village had been quiet.

Some twelve miles away from the village, the Piatt Castles were imposing structures built by the Piatt brothers, a pair of mages who made their fortunes in the south, reportedly from trafficking in contraband. Although they didn't directly govern the area, the Piatt lieutenants worked with the village to maintain peace in the area (the Piatt brothers themselves were allegedly too occupied with their arcane research to have more than a passing interest in the village). The village also took interest in the castles because several village members worked as servants and groundskeepers at the castles.

Ramshaw was made more nervous by the gold he carried. The gold would pay for a party to investigate the castles and report back. Ramshaw would give part up front and the rest upon return. The party would have to bring proof from the castles: a sealed letter from one of the wizards or their lieutenants. If the wizards were gone or dead, the party should bring a stone from the patio of one of the castles (one of the castles had a fantastic patio mosaic made of thousands of stones).

Mite the Merchant

Before her ascension, the goddess, Karre, lived on a farm and had pious, Eldro-fearing parents, but Karre burned with an immortal passion that would not be restrained by filial obedience. She took many lovers and scandalized the village, until the day Eldro found her.

Mite scanned the patrons of the Purple Moon in a calculating manner. He watched for Raul's men. Raul, of course, would be aware of his presence. One of Raul's lieutenants would soon approach and put on a solicitous embassy, but while he was engaging Raul's man, perhaps one of Mite's would discover something useful.

Mite thought, “Damn that Raul. What is he up to?” Mite sold Xain, the flower, to Raul as quick as he could bring it. His rapacity didn't bother Mite. He wanted customers that bought as much as he could sell. No, what bothered Mite was Raul's rituals with the addicts. He didn't just milk them; he appeared to be doing something with them. Mite thought he knew everything about the flower, so this business troubled him.

Mite also watched for prospective mules. He needed a certain type of individual or, better yet, a group of such people: desperate but not dissolute; hungry for power, not the flower; and, most importantly, not in any way associated with Eldro and the Eastern fanaticism. Mite had two men working the room for prospects. They lead with drink, food, and Xain. Mite watched their reactions.

Humani nihil a se alienum putat.

As he drank and watched, Mite also worried about a third piece of business. The Eastern Empire was encroaching on the Southern States and the free plains where Mite's enterprise flourished. Those zealous bastards were killing every vestige of the arcane and destroying the trade that so benefited Mite. They didn't even allow for an officially sanctioned monopoly, as in the Southern States. They killed wizards, burned Xain, and destroyed arcane lore in any form.

So close to the border, Mite employed scouts to watch for Eastern movement, but he feared that a sudden incursion would catch him unaware. He contemplated moving the terminal point of his operation further west. Unfortunately, that would cut deeply into his margins.

To make matters more opaque, the town was deluged in the last two weeks with rumours of some catastrophe in the north. By most accounts, the Easterners experienced a crushing defeat at the hands of the dwarves. However, some stories also spoke of a simultaneous dwarven debacle. Some said the dwarven capitol and the invading army were annihilated by a tremendous evocation.

In any case, Mite thought the attention of the Easterners would be in the north for awhile. The south had always been the lesser front. “With the war in the north not going so well, they won't risk a major assault on the south,” Mite supposed, “ ... but even a minor push could be deadly.”

Karre, we invoked for rain;
We called on Andro for food;
They did not hear our prayers—they could not hear.
No cloud appeared in heaven,
No nightly dews came down.

Mite regarded coolly the men clothed in black as they approached. From their appearance, they might have been from any southern city-state, and they might have been any followers of Hro. They even wore the telltale chains and cropped hair. Mite would have felt at home with such men, but these weren't typical unbelievers. These were Raul's men.

Mite's guard announced his presence by shifting feet and a hard glance. Raul's ambassador seemed to ignore him, and he stepped forward, saying, “The Purple Moon is honored by your presence, sir. I imagine that we have important business to discuss. Will you dine with me?”

Merlino the Addict

A village on the Eastern outskirts of the Southern States….

I am making my way to the Purple Moon Tavern. It’s a nightly journey for me. At sunset, I drag myself from my crude shelter in Collar Alley and painfully proceed, step by step to the Purple Moon. (Laughing to himself) What did I see last night in the Oracle Rapture? Something about the tavern. I can’t remember…

It’s dark now. It’s always dark when I arrive at the tavern. A dim yellow glow comes through the grimy crescent shaped window in the door. It’s the only window in the tavern. The bricks are black and grey with soot. So hot this time of year and inside it’s hotter, and in a few hours my soul will be a searing torch of liquid molten power. I swallow hard and shake, hesitating to enter… I shouldn’t do this. I can’t….

But I want it so badly. Just one more time. I push open the door.

There are two lamps glowing in the tavern, one above the bar and the other to the right of the room. A large fireplace with only a few glowing embers in the far left corner provide the only other source of light. I sit at a table near the fire. I feel chilled despite the heat, the hair on my wasted arms rising and falling with each wave of anxiety. Where is he? Blast that cleric to the bowels of the Old Ones!

I stare at the table, black and sticky with grime. All sounds are suddenly absorbed by the blackness, no mugs clinking, the mutterings of customers snuffed out by the blackness. There is something in the blackness, calling to me. Something that wants to consume everything. Something that wants out. I look up into the depths of a red cowl. The glowing eyes…..

Suddenly the world comes rushing back, laughter, profanities, the smell of sweat and urine. .. And his eyes. The first time I met this cleric of Hro, I did not notice his glowing eyes. I told him this once and he said, I was not touched by the Oracle then.

Raul. My entire world centered around him.

I was distracted by the sinewy movements of Rachlea, the barmaid. Her black hair worn loosely down her back. The skin exposed on her chest glistened with sweat and the icon of Karre hung around her neck lay enticingly on the top of her left breast. But Karre is an evil goddess. This is what my mother told me. This is what all children of the Eastern Empire knew. But here, so close to the Southern States, things were different. ..

Raul waited out my distraction patiently. He understood. When I turned to him again, he said, “Have you had food and drink?” I shook my head. He motioned for Rachlea. Bread and cheese were placed before me. I ate mechanically. I was not hungry. I don’t remember the last time I was hungry. I only remember the Rapture. It fed me. But I had to eat to live on this plane.

I finished. “Come,” Raul said. He led me to a door near the hearth. A door you could not make out until you were within inches, it was so like the walls themselves. Black on black on black. Then, laughing to myself I remember what the Oracle revealed about the Purple Moon Tavern. There’s not a scrap of purple, violet, or lavender anywhere. Only black.

But I am descending now, below. And in moments I will be bathed in the brightest lights of God and magics will pour from my fingers. I create beauty. I create light. …