I’ve been working on
this setting more or less seriously for about a year. I’ve run a few games (the
best have been with family, surprisingly enough) during that time, but I’m
starting off what promises to be a long-term campaign this weekend, so I’ve
decided to lay out a handful of perspectives on what I think a Russian fantasy
milieu would look like.
When people familiar
with modern fantasy RPGs think of Russian-flavored fantasy, the first thing
that pops into their mind is invariably Baba Yaga and her chicken-legged hut.
The magical fairy tales from which she hails are obviously a primary influence
on the setting, but they are not the only ones. Lighter folk tales,
relating of talking animals, simpletons, charlatans, and rogues likewise
constitute pertinent source materials. Also important are the Byliny – verse tales of bogatyrs – the Russian counterparts to
the Knights of the Round Table and Charlemagne’s paladins that were set in the
Kiev period, but composed after the Mongol conquest. The folk traditions
involving the 'nature' spirits of the house, field, forest and stream – echoes of
pagan Slavic religion – are also salient, but so is Orthodox Christianity, with
its more sophisticated cosmology, and its chronicles of miracle workers and
holy fools. And although the fantasy genre typically portrays medieval environments,
it’s hard to deny that Russia’s medieval past as we know it today has been thoroughly
filtered through classical Russian literature and art – Pushkin,
Rimsky-Korsakov, Vasnetsov, etc. - as well as through Russian and Soviet
historiography and historical fiction (Alexei Tolstoy, Yazvitskii), Soviet
cinema (Alexander Nevsky, Andrei Rublev, and epic and fairytale-themed films too numerous to mention), and recent “Slavic Fantasy” authors (Vishnevetskaia, Oldie). Recent
historiographies that situate Russia in a wider Eurasian matrix make it
impossible not to incorporate steppe-nomadic, Turkic, Muslim, Iranian, as
well as Baltic, Scandinavian, Germanic and Mediterranean elements. Anachronistic
features, such as vodka or windmills (only introduced in the 15th
century), or the folkways of the (much later) Russian criminal underworld subculture are
also difficult to ignore entirely. Lastly, the deeply-rooted tropes of modern
fantasy gaming are a useful interpretive framework for organizing all this
source material into a coherent whole. If that means that Novogorod’s
Ushkuiniki – state-employed bandits who launched amphibious raids against the
city’s enemies – become “rangers”, or that the line between the kolduny (sorcerers) and ved’my (witches) becomes more solidly
defined than is warranted by the historical or anthropological literature –
then so be it.
The name of the
setting - Lukomorye - is taken
from an archaic term for a crescent-shaped cove – a typical site of cultic activity by
the pagan Slavs, usually centered around an ancient oak tree. The word was
thrust into modern consciousness by Pushkin, who redefined it as a kind of
Russian fairy-tale Neverland – an appropriate model for a mixed-genre FRPG
setting to follow.
Below, I lay out six
approaches for a Lukomorye campaign.
They are patterned on the “Flavors of Fantasy” used in the most recent Dungeon
Masters’ Guide, though given a Russian twist. Needless to say, in actual my
actual games, I reserve the right to mix and match these as I see fit.
When Fell the Bogatyrs of the
Noriki Land (Heroic
Fantasy)
The Land of Nor’ lies
broken. A century ago, an uncountable horde of Kochmaki appeared on the
steppes, sweeping away anyone and anything that stood in their way. Though some
of the Nor’ princes tried to resist, even the bogatyrs, the traditional
defenders of the land, were overwhelmed, and thousands upon thousands died with
them. The capital city of Bogumil sank to the bottom of a lake, while other
towns fell one by one to the invaders, or chose to voluntarily submit and to
pay tribute. No one knows why the Devil’s Horsemen came. Some say they were the
Scourge of God, punishing the people for their sins. Others say an older evil
drove them to avenge the people’s turning away from the Old Faith, and toward
the True Confession. But whatever the case, their arrival signaled to other
enemies that the time to join in on the feast over Nor’’s carcass had come. In
the north, Garip knights began a war of conquest that sought to root out the
True Confession. In the West, the Galindy princes moved in to pick up the
pieces, and to take the lands that had been ruled by the Alferovich dynasty,
and make them their own. And everywhere, unclean spirits sensed that the
resolve of the Faithful to resist them waned. They came out of the forests, the
swamps, the waterways, and the graves, and preyed on the people in both body
and spirit. Beset by foes, the land is without unity, without hope, and without
heroes.
But perhaps the fall
has not been complete. In some villages and towns, rumors of a new generation
of bogatyrs, rising to champion the common people, to defend the Faith, and to
join the country together in a common struggle have begun to spread. Some
battle the invaders, some drive back the monstrous spirits that haunt wood,
steppe, and mountaintop, and some martyrs - podvizhniki -
take up the sword in the service of God. The priests of the True Confession are
also rising as leaders by preaching the faith to remote tribes, setting an
example by living lives of pious asceticism, creating holy icons of great beauty
and power, and performing miracles to remind people that God is still with
them. And even the unlikeliest heroes – the lowly Fools - sometimes appear to
win the hands of princesses, or the blessings of powerful spirits or angelic
messengers.
Characters in this
setting are living through epic changes and trying to live up to their destiny.
Perhaps their fate as heroes has been foretold since their birth, or perhaps
they have learned of it only recently. Some will willingly submit to it, some
will try to resist, some will do their best to try to escape it, some will fall
and become antiheroes. Others will march to meet their destiny while being
blissfully unaware of it. Regardless of how they choose to act, the people
around them believe in the power specially gifted or magical individuals to
change the fate of the world. Once heroes have gained a measure of power, they
will inevitably be sought out to decide the fate of villages, towns,
principalities, nations, or even the world as a whole, though they will also
attract their share of rivals.
Do the roses still shine there? (Mythic Fantasy)
The power of the gods
is waning. Old jealousies and slights, fear that their own creations are
growing more powerful than they are, and growing powerlessness in the face of a
new religion herald the passing of mighty beings who have ruled the world since
its beginning. Along with the gods, other beings of yore - giants, serpents,
shapechangers, and spirits of various kinds still live and walk among humans.
Magical aptitude is common, and some adepts may weave spells of almost godlike
power. Fortresses, ships and bridges may spring up on command, and among
heroes, the possession of a flying mount, a magical sword, or a cap of invisibility
is unremarkable. Not a few people know the way to the Other Realms, the Thrice
Tenth Kingdom, or to the mystical Island of Buyan, where the World Tree yet
grows.
Despite the
proliferation of magic, this setting is tinged with tragedy. Its heroes have at
least an inkling that this old world is dying. They may be making one last push
to ensure that their tutelary deity emerges victorious over its rivals, though
they know full well that such an outcome is unlikely. Or they may be doing
their utmost to preserve the old wisdom in the world to come, where the gods
will be gone, or hidden. Perhaps the heathen age has already passed, and the
heroes are trying to recover lost secrets by reforming mystic brotherhoods and
sisterhoods, or seeking out hidden places of power.
The foremost heroes of
such a setting are mighty spellcasters. They are volkhvy – priests who divine
the gods’ will, uncover the world’s mysteries by assuming animal form, and
advise princes and warlords, always being careful not to impart knowledge that
will cause weaker vessels to burst asunder. They are sorcerers whose bloodlines
stem from the gods themselves. As they battle their rivals for power and
prestige, they strive to preserve something for their descendants in the world
to come. They are bards, teaching people of the exploits of gods and heroes,
and struggling to encode the old legends into customs that will be impossible
to eradicate by the rulers of the dawning new order. And they are bogatyrs,
undertaking to do great deeds while there are still bards to sing about them
and to preserve them for posterity.
Go I Know Not Where, Fetch I Know
Not What (Fantastic
Voyages)
Lured by the promise
of riches beyond the seas, a merchant-adventurer selects a crew and outfits a
vessel to travel to the land of the gold-digging ants. A prince who has lost
his true love rides beyond Thrice Nine Lands, in search of Baba Yaga’s help to
defeat her captor, Koshchei the Deathless. And in a seedy tavern, a drunk
regales wide-eyed novices with tales of fantastic wealth in underground Copper,
Silver, and Gold Kingdoms.
The characters in a
Fantastic Voyages campaign are Lukomorye’s answer to Swords & Sorcery
heroes. Part treasure seekers, part explorers, part delvers into occult
mysteries, and part questing heroes, PCs in such a campaign are driven to seek
the distant, the new and the unfamiliar, rather than to solve local problems,
defend the land, or gain political advantage. They are less rooted to
particular places or tied down with Bonds than characters in other settings,
but more likely to adventure outside the Land of Nor’ - perhaps even to Realms
Beyond Death or other planes of existence. Crossing swords with pirates on the
high seas, racing against undead pursuers across the steppe to reach an ancient
crypt, or finding just the right gift for the Bogdoi Tsar on a high
mountaintop might be common activities of adventurers in a game centered on
Fantastic Voyages.
Of necessity, such a
campaign is likely to center on high-level challenges, and a myriad wondrous
items. Perhaps, flying ships or
powerful artifacts will be required just for getting to the requisite
destination. A mix of diverse character types, including those that are
specifically flagged for foreigners (like wizards, paladins, or shamans), would
be appropriate, so long as all were larger than life, and able to laugh death
in the face.
Although well-suited
to a lighthearted approach, the Fantastic Voyages campaign may also explore the
themes of exile and homesickness that often find an outlet in early Russian
travel literature. The more they have to adjust to foreign norms, the more they
miss their mother, the smell of the woods outside their native village, and the
kindly parish priest offering blessings and forgiveness for their dissolute
life and the mistakes of their youth.
My Children, Do Not Cause Strife
Among Yourselves
(Historical Fantasy)
In their walled
fortresses, the princes plot against their cousins and nephews, seeking to kill
or blind them in order to seize control of valuable trade routes or to earn the
Khan’s favor and the prized charter that makes one of them a Grand Prince. To
ensure that their plans succeed, they recruit enterprising but ruthless
enforcers, spies, and masterminds. Meanwhile, in the cathedrals and
monasteries, bishops and hegumens work to ensure that the princes remain loyal
to the True Confession as they play their deadly games. In the large trading
cities of the north, political factions backed by criminal gangs vie with one
another for control of the popular assemblies. On the borderlands, armed
desperadoes seek employment to guard frontier provinces from external enemies,
or turn to raiding and banditry themselves if they do not find it. And beyond
the frontiers, foreigners, unbelievers, and exiles are ever striving to tear
off cities and lands to feed their own ever-growing ambitions. This struggle
for survival is brutal at times, but the ongoing economic recovery offers
potentially rich rewards to those who play the game to win, and have fortune on
their side.
This prosaic playstyle
is not, strictly speaking, a historical simulation of appanage Rus’, but it
does strive to model the mindset and methods of its main protagonists. The
typical character in this setting is motivated by power and gain. Violence,
deceit, sabotage and betrayal are standard weapons in the arsenal of actors
pursuing these goals. Those who prioritize other ends – honor, morality, or
compassion – either fall by the wayside, or settle for subordinate roles. But
the best players are those who can formulate long-term plans – the
undisciplined player who backstabs an ally at the earliest available
opportunity is no better than the idealist. Concealing your character’s true
motivations is a required and highly prized skill.
Historical Fantasy
characters may be gritty, but that does not mean they cannot be colorful. They
are exemplified by the lowborn Ratnik fighter with big ambitions, who is
willing to slaughter whole families if it means becoming a boyar and receiving a
land grant as rewards. The thief who steals valuable documents to promote the
cause of their faction, the bandit who kidnaps princes for ransom, or the
Ushkuinik who has to decide whether his purposes are best served by attacking
enemy fortresses, or robbing the merchants of their home city are also good
fits. Although magic is obviously rarer than it is in other settings, it is not
altogether absent, and though it’s likely looked down on as a form of deviltry,
the subtle practitioner can really tip the scales of power for their side. Skinshifter wolves who serve as
enforcers for the local strongman, foreign wizards who seek buried treasure
from an earlier age, priestly intriguers who traffic with demons for the sake
of political power would make strong additions to this setting as well.
A Great Multitude of Peasants,
Fools, Drunkards and Buffoons
(Fairytale Fantasy)
The prize turnip in
your orchard just won’t come out of the ground, a dough bun baked by your
neighbor is on a rampage, and the hen in the next village has laid a golden
egg. Meanwhile, the village idiot is running down pedestrians as he tools
around town on his stove, the smith has hired a bear assistant who is eating
him out of house and home, and the fox has suddenly found religion and is collecting
money from the parishioners, to go on a pilgrimage.
The whimsical
Fairytale Fantasy campaign likely contains no overarching story and has no
clear sense of what the mighty of this world are up to. Its protagonists tend simple
people driven by simple goals like hunger or laziness, but they pursue these
goals with all the extraordinary powers they have at their disposal.
Oftentimes, they plan nothing more than to spread as much mayhem as possible,
or, conversely, to be left alone despite being caught up in a succession of
hilariously unlikely occurrences. Authority figures and protectors of order in
this kind of setting are probably corrupt, humorless, but ultimately feckless
boobs who are routinely bested by heroes, but remain in charge simply because no
person of any true substance or worth wants to be in a position of
responsibility.
Though such a game may
not be entirely without combat, it often results in comical incapacitation
rather than death. The emphasis is certainly on the role-playing end of the
gaming spectrum. The typical characters that populate this setting may be: the
peasant who has no skills, and is told by her lord to become a thief to take
care of aged parents; a Fool who inherits a Firebird feather and has no idea
about what to do with it; a Skomorokh trouper, who is traveling to a convention
in the City of Fools; or even a bogatyr swindler who wants to teach his miserly
priest employer a lesson. Non-human characters, especially skinshifters, are
particularly well represented in the Fairytale Fantasy game, and their
animalistic stereotypes of behavior and traditional rivalries (e.g. hare vs.
wolf) are prominently on display. Eating, drinking and merrymaking, as well as
items associated with immoderate consumption like the Magic Tablecloth, are
conspicuous. Of course, so are enchantments like Two in the Sack - a purse
containing cudgel-wielding brutes who will beat down dunces unwilling to learn
the easy way.
There Are All Sorts of Horrors in
the World (Rustic Horror)
The villages are isolated
and distant from one another, but the woods that surround them are dark and
full of terrors. The powerful, caught up in their petty rivalries, care not a
whit about things that trouble the simple folk as long as they pay their taxes.
The parish priests are often scrambling for survival themselves, and are
probably underqualified: nothing in their training has prepared them for the
magnitude of the Evil they face. For under the thin veneer of the True
Confession, the old ways, with their bestial rituals, death cults,
demon-worship, and human sacrifice are all still very much alive.
The atmosphere of the
Rustic Horror game is replete with liminal dread. The veil between the mortal
world and the Otherworld of the spirits and the dead has grown thin. Behind
closed doors and palisades, people make offerings to their domovoi as if he were a member of the family. A stroll through the
forest to pick mushrooms or berries can turn into a frightening encounter with
a leshy or kikimora, and those who do not know how to traffic with them may
never return home. A visit to the healer woman to cure a toothache or to return
a straying spouse can easily turn into a meeting with her familiar (the one
whose head rotates all the way around), and a collective wash in the bathhouse
might become a night of unearthly chanting and screeching that concludes with a
selling one’s soul to a bannik in exchange for magical powers. Even the
holidays provide little solace, for at such times upyri and other members of Lukomorye’s rich panoply of undead rise
from their graves to suck blood, drive people mad, or simply cause them to drop
dead from fright. Old church graveyards, hollow trees, and abandoned mills are
typical loci of adventure in this setting.
Rustic Horror
characters tend to be laconic, mysterious, and inscrutable – that is, when they
are not just raving lunatics. Many of them exhibit strange marks on their
bodies, or hide dark secrets. Some are (or believe themselves to be) cursed.
Obviously, warlocks, witches and sorcerers haunt such settings in great
abundance, and changelings – products of unholy congresses between unclean
spirits and humans are quite common as well. Priests, of necessity, are too –
fighting what often seems like a losing battle against the forces of darkness.
Magical powers, at least at a low level, are widely distributed throughout the
populace. Not infrequently, even simple peasants may possess a cantrip or two,
and while truly powerful items are rare, potions, herbs, mushrooms, enchanted
trees, as well as magical brooms and cauldrons often make an appearance.
Given the rather rural
structure of even the larger cities, it is entirely possible for a Rustic
Horror game to be set in urban environments also. Higher-level games featuring
powerful monsters and magical items are likely to dovetail with a Heroic
Fantasy campaign, or a hybrid setting can mix elements from both genres.
