#RPGaDay2025 Day 28 Suspense

I love combat. I love magic duels, chaotic tavern brawls, dragons roaring from the sky while the players scramble for cover. There’s a thrill in the crash of dice, the rush of tactics, the immediacy of it all. 

But you know what sticks with players longer than the fight?

The silence before it.

Suspense is the slow blade. It’s not about surprise, it’s about anticipation. That creeping sense that something is wrong, but no one’s named it yet. It’s the moment when the music fades. When the torch flickers once and then goes out. When the NPC who always answers the door… doesn’t.

As a DM, building suspense is one of the most powerful tools I have. And unlike combat, there’s no initiative roll for it. It lives in pacing, description, rhythm. It lives in what I choose not to say.

I’ll lower my voice a bit. I’ll describe something small. Too small. I’ll pause more often. I’ll ask, “Are you sure you want to do that?” even if I’m not planning anything. Yet.

Suspense is a collaboration between the DM and the players. I give them the shadow, they give it teeth. The more room I leave, the more their imaginations fill in the gaps. And usually, what they come up with is far worse than what I had planned. As I mentioned already, often it is best to let the players’ own imaginations fill in the gaps. 

But here’s the trick: suspense isn’t just for horror games. It’s not just ghosts and witches and the slow creak of a basement door. Suspense works anywhere there’s uncertainty. Fantasy thrives on it.

• The crypt that hasn’t been opened in centuries.
• The noble court, where one wrong word will get you exiled or executed.
• The ancient artifact that hums when no one is looking.
• The character’s dream that ends with a name they’ve never heard… and the next day, an NPC says it.

Suspense turns every room into a question. Every choice into a forked path. Every moment into a heartbeat you feel at the table.

In my Occult D&D projects, I lean hard into this. I want the players to hesitate. To ask, “Wait… is that normal?” I want the moment before they open the book, before they cast the spell, before they step through the arch. Because once they do? That’s when the reveal comes. That’s when the real danger starts. But the suspense is what makes that moment matter.

There has not been enough danger in finding an old spell book in current games. It’s a spellbook. In Occult D&D, it's an ancient grimoire that belongs to an ancient witch queen, then passed down to a corrupt warlock who talked to spiders and learned their secrets. Is that human skin it is bound in? Why does it feel a little too warm to the touch? Did the book flinch when it was touched?

You can run a game without suspense. Plenty of people do. But once you start using it, once you learn how to play the table like an instrument, quiet, careful, patient, you’ll find your players remember those moments just as clearly as the big battles.

Maybe more.

Questions

 How. Enthusiastic. Person.  Ok...How enthusiastic am I to game in person? Hey, it's what I live for! 

https://www.autocratik.com/ • https://www.castingshadowsblog.com/

#RPGaDay2025 Day 27 Tactic

Witchcraft Wednesday Edition

Dungeons & Dragons, at its roots, is a game of tactics.

It grew out of wargaming. Miniatures on a battlefield. Movement rates. Ranges. Terrain. Planning your strike before the other side rolls initiative. That foundation still lingers, even in the wildest fantasy campaigns. Position matters. Choices matter. You can feel the wargame bones in every hit die and saving throw.

But today I want to talk about a different tactic.

 And a very different kind of fight.

My current opponent doesn’t breathe fire or lurk in dungeons. It’s not a dragon, or a lich, or even one of those slippery players who always find a loophole in your spell descriptions.

It’s my Occult D&D project.

This thing has grown far beyond what I thought it would be. What started as an experiment, "What if I treated witches as seriously as clerics and magic-users, and they had been part of D&D from the start?" has turned into a full-blown system of spells, subclasses, traditions, monsters, mechanics, cosmology, and philosophy.

And the tactic I’ve used to wrestle it all into something cohesive?

 Research. Years of it. I looked back at my first notes on this back in mid-July (they are sitting here now), and they are dated 2013. Not my first notes ever, just the first notes I began collecting for an AD&D book. I have notes still dating back to the 1980s. All carefully kept (much to my wife’s chagrin sometimes) in three-ring binders. I might be obsessive, but it works for me. 

I’ve read historical witch trial records. I’ve gone deep into Margaret Murray, Jung, and Campbell. I’ve pulled from Golden Dawn rituals, folk magic, Wicca, Kabbalah, medieval grimoires, Victorian spiritualism, and pop culture from Dark Shadows to The VVitch. I’ve cross-referenced monster entries, spell levels, class XP charts, and Dragon Magazine articles like I was studying for an occult-themed Ph.D. dissertation.

And every time I thought I was close to done?  Another thread appeared. Another tactic had to be employed. Another heretic idea needed a place on the page.

This project hasn’t just been about building something.  It’s been about learning how to listen, to myth, to symbol, to rhythm, to the structure of D&D itself. And then figuring out where my work fits, and where it pushes back.

There’s tactical thinking in this, even if it doesn’t look like a battlefield. 

•  What does each Tradition offer? 
•  How do I balance the occult with the arcane and divine?
•  Where does narrative shape the mechanics, and where do the mechanics open new story paths?

And yes, I am using the word “story” here. Why? Because that's what the player is going to do with this. I am fairly sure that the audience here is the ones that will look at the traditions, subclasses, and classes I have and say, “yes, these are different from each other.” They are the ones I want to reach. 

It's not always straightforward. Sometimes it’s sitting at my desk, staring at a spell description for 20 minutes, trying to decide if it should be second or third level. Sometimes it’s rewriting a single monster power because it breaks one of the unwritten rules of AD&D logic, or it is too close to something already done, OR even because I need it to be closer to something already done.

But that’s the work. That’s the tactic. Slow, careful, deliberate construction.

I love a good battle map. I love clever flanking. I love using the environment to turn the tide.

But sometimes the most satisfying tactic isn’t found in the order of initiative.

It’s in building something that others can use.

And knowing that somewhere, someday, a new player’s character might light a candle, draw a circle, and say, “I cast an occult spell.”

Questions

 Where. Confident. Accessory. Hmmm...Where am I confident I can get the latest accessory? Easy, my FLGS, Games Plus.

https://www.autocratik.com/ • https://www.castingshadowsblog.com/

Mail (and Yard Sale) Call Tuesday, 80s Style!

 Double hitter today. Went out on a hunt for some old-school D&D and came home to some mail.

Dragged my wife and youngest out to a yard sale way north of Chicago because I saw online they had a ton of D&D books. A box of adventures, hardcovers, a box of Dragons, and a bunch of old Ral Partha minis. We got there in plenty of time, but the boxes were stanched up by, well... I never got a satisfactory answer. My wife and kid suspected (with some good reason) that the people running the sale held it back for someone. I kept getting a different answer from the workers (it was a managed sale) and the person buying them all didn't seem like a gamer because they really couldn't answer and questions.

Oh well. I did get a chance to look into the boxes, and I had about 95% of it all anyway.

I DID manage to score boxed sets of Top Secret and Indiana Jones. This gives me more evidence that person buying didn't know what they had. These were right next to the books and were ignored. That's fine, I didn't have these, so score for me! I also got the Doctor Who Technical Manual to replace my old one that was lost. 

The boxes are in worn shape, but the contents are good. Missing dice, save for the saddest looking d10 I have ever seen.

On the mail front, this was waiting for me when I got home.

The Folio Black Label #3 White Witch and Black Stone from Art of the Genre.

And it looks like I got the last copy! Sorry all. But honestly, how could I have said no? It features Duchess and Candella as NPCs and the main antagonist is "the White Witch."  I mean, come on? 

While print is sold out, the PDF is still available. 

I'll get a proper review of this up soon. Now I just need to figure out where I am going to slot this into my War of the Witch Queens.

#RPGaDay2025 Day 26 Nemesis

 One of my favorite characters in Superman has always been Lex Luthor.

Why? Because Lex never thinks he’s evil. In his mind, he’s the only one doing the right thing. Humanity can’t trust an alien god with their future, no matter how many kittens he rescues from trees. Lex isn’t mustache-twirling evil, he’s rational. Cold. Calculating. Absolutely convinced that he is the smartest man in the room and that everyone else is either too blind, too stupid, or too naïve to see the danger.

That, to me, is the perfect nemesis.

In my games, I’ve had plenty of recurring villains, necromancers, devils, cultists with too many teeth, but only a few that have earned that capital-N “Nemesis” title.

Magnus is one. He’s my classic evil necromancer, complete with black robes, pale skin, and an ego that can barely fit into the dungeon. But I’ll be honest, sometimes he feels like a cartoon villain. Fun to bring out for a good dramatic monologue, but not quite the existential threat I want.

Yoln was a better one. He was the nemesis in my AD&D 1st ed and Buffy the Vampire Slayer games. His evil had a face, a voice, a reason. Players hated him, but they also understood him. That’s good villainy.

Dracula? Always a favorite. But he’s more of a force of nature than a true nemesis. The devil you invite in by accident.  The Refrigerator? Fun, but he is a misanthropic one-trick pony.

But lately… I’ve been circling something deeper. A presence that’s shown up in many of my games, even when I didn’t know it yet.

At first, it was just a phrase, The Whispering God. A vague mythos thread to tie things together. But somewhere between running a Buffy session and catching a train in downtown Chicago, I realized something. Magnus has heard those whispers. So has Yoln. And maybe, just maybe, they were never the real threat.

They were echoes. Shadows.

The true nemesis is something I’ve started calling The One Who Remains.

He’s not a person, not really. “He” is just a convenient pronoun. “It” would be more accurate. “They,” maybe. Or “We,” if I’m being honest.

Here’s what I know:

• He was once a human, or something like it.
• He helped end the Age of Old Ones, maybe in the Wasted Lands’ Dreaming Age, maybe earlier.
• He did something, some ritual or betrayal, that shattered his being across time and space.

Now he is trying to pull himself back together.

Like gravity pulling dust into stars, his scattered thoughts, identities, and echoes are coalescing. Slowly at first. Then faster. Always faster. And when he is whole again?

It will be too late to stop him.

Some worlds feel his influence only faintly, a name in a forgotten grimoire, a face glimpsed in a nightmare. Others bear him like a scar. In some, he is barely more than a drive or a hunger. In others, he takes on form: a warlock, a high priest, a masked prophet. In some campaigns, he’s just a whisper. In others, he’s a storm.

And in my multiverse?

He’s everywhere.

He’s the shadow behind the coven. The Patron no one names. The face in the mirror when the moonlight is hitting it wrong,  or maybe just right.

He is the Nemesis not of a single hero, or of the world, but of all the cosmos. Of memory. Of meaning.

He is the end that waits, and the beginning that never should have been.

And the worst part?

He’s almost here.

I can’t wait for you to meet him.

Questions

What. Envious. Genre.  What Genre am I envious of? Well none really. Though I do like hearing people talk about their superhero games. I can't ever keep one going for long.

 

https://www.autocratik.com/ • https://www.castingshadowsblog.com/

Monstrous Mondays: Starchild (Occult D&D)

 For years, I have been getting these little blank journals. My kids used to like to get them and give them to me for birthdays, Father's Day, and Christmas. Anyway, I typically keep them next to my desk, my bedside stand, and my end tables where I read or watch TV. I have dozens of them filled up, and maybe twice that number that are partially filled. 

This past summer, I have been working on collecting these into something. Not 100% sure what that something is, but I have been scribbling it all down under the header of "Occult D&D."  

Here is a "monster" I have been playing around with for a little bit. The first version of this was from a notebook I had all the way back to my earliest AD&D 1st Edition days. Revised heavily in the 1990s, and picked back up this past July.

Starchild - Photo by Alesia  Kozik

STARCHILD

(Custodes Sidereus, Ascended Master, Starborn)

Astral Celestial (Unique/Extraplanar)

FREQUENCY: Very Rare
NO. APPEARING: 1
ARMOR CLASS: -2
MOVE: 15"/48" (Fly)
HIT DICE: 14–16
% IN LAIR: 15%
TREASURE TYPE: see below (Astral Cache only)
NO. OF ATTACKS: 1 (touch) or by spell
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 2–12 (psychic touch) or by spell
SPECIAL ATTACKS: Spell use, see below
SPECIAL DEFENSES: +3 or better weapon to hit; immune to charm, sleep, fear, illusion
MAGIC RESISTANCE: 65%
INTELLIGENCE: Supra-Genius (20–22)
ALIGNMENT: Variable (see below)
SIZE: L (10'–12' tall)
PSIONIC ABILITY: 200
Attack/Defense Modes: All / All
LEVEL/XP VALUE: IX / 19,500 + 20/hp

Starchildren appear as radiant humanoid beings of flawless beauty and serenity. Their physical forms are idealized, genderless or androgynous, glowing with starlight or surrounded by cascading auroras. In some traditions, they appear as translucent, elven-like sages robed in constellations; to others, they are shining spheres of cosmic intelligence, barely contained in mortal shape.

Starchildren rarely engage in physical combat, preferring pacifism, diplomacy, or departure. However, they will defend others from destruction, particularly mortals of magical inclination. They attack once per round with radiant energy (3d6 damage), or may cast spells as a 20th-level magic-user, 20th-level witch, or illusionist, depending on which magical tradition is strongest in the region.

They also possess the following innate abilities, usable at will unless noted otherwise:

• Teleport without Error
• Plane Shift
• True Seeing
• Detect Magic
• Telepathy (universal languages)
• Contact Other Plane (always succeeds, never drives them mad)
• Banishment (3/day)
• Akashic Memory (see below)

Once per week, a Starchild may grant a mortal access to the Akashic Record as per the Access the Library ritual spell. This is usually done only for profound magical seekers or as part of a sacred pact.

Starchildren possess all psionic defense and attack modes and may use any of the "sciences" or "devotions" as needed in a particular situation. 

No two sources agree on what the Starchildren are. Some witches say they are the ascended forms of the first witches, elevated beyond mortal limits. Others insist they are celestial beings from the stars, what modern occultists call Star People or Elder Teachers. Still others view them as sentient emanations of the Cosmic Consciousness, a universal mind from which all magic flows.

They do not reproduce, nor do they maintain societies in the conventional sense. However, Starchildren have appeared to witches in times of great need, offering insight, visions, or magical gifts.

Starchildren are known to walk the Astral Plane, the Ethereal Realm, and other dimensions unknown to mortals. They are believed to be custodians of the Akashic Record, a vast, extradimensional archive of all knowledge, magic, thought, and possibility.

Starchildren do not eat, breathe, or sleep. Their presence warps reality subtly, nearby spellcasting becomes easier, plants grow slightly better, and dreams become filled with symbols and visions. Prolonged contact with a Starchild can result in magical mutations or spiritual awakening, depending on the soul of the one exposed.

A slain Starchild does not leave a corpse, but transforms into stardust and ascends, its essence dissolving into the Astral Light.

Though they do not hoard material goods, a Starchild’s sanctum may contain:

• A spellbook containing 1d6 unique or forgotten spells.
• Crystalline artifacts imbued with planar energy.
• An Astral Map that allows access to unknown planes.

Starchildren as Patrons. If the Starchildren were once patrons of witches, as many believe, they are no longer. Though all traditions have something in their teachings that many conclude is a product of the Starchildren. 

Each Witch Tradition interprets them differently:

• The Aquarian Tradition see them as the progenitor of their tradition and the form they ultimately aspire to transcend to.
  
  
• The Atlantean Tradition believes they are the architects of the great crystal cities beneath the waves.
  
  
• The Classic and Pagan Traditions see the Starchlidren as the messengers of the old gods of their faiths. They would be called angels in other philosophies. 
  
  
• The Daughters of Baba Yaga whisper that Baba Yaga herself is the most terrible and wise of the Starchildren.
  
  
• The Followers of Aradia believe the Starchildren first taught Aradia the language of the stars.
  
  
• The High Secret Order seeks audience with them for the secrets of deep occult power.
  
  
• The Scaled Sisterhood refer to them as Cosmic Serpents, and some suspect the great Dragon/Serpent Anantanatha is one.

Names of the Starchildren

These are the Starchildren known to occult scholars.

Unceph the Dual-Flame: The one who whispers across mirrored selves. Keeper of the Seventh Gate of Thought. They are male and female, both eternally. 

Lioriel of the Infinite Choir: Angel of harmonics and secret words. Her voice is a thousand singing stars.

Xavhalon the Prism-Eyed: All colors bend through their gaze; they dream in radiant geometry.

Astraema of the Crystal Veil: Watcher of fates yet unformed, veiled in moonlight and deep water.

Seraphex, Keeper of the Burning Glyph: Bearer of the first word etched in flame. Those who read it are forever changed.

Urilathe the Memory Unbound: He who walks the halls of unchosen pasts. Wields the Book of What Might Have Been.

Omniala the Pale Aurora: She dances on the threshold of death and dreaming, trailing silver fire.

Zyntharion of the Thirteenth Ray: Patron of heretics and innovators. The ray no one remembers seeing.

The Archon Selador: Who guards the spiral path inward. All questions asked three times.

Velek-Tha of the Outer Spiral: The serpent-form of stellar wisdom. They uncoil thought from the void.

Galithriel, She of the Star-Seeded Womb: Mother of the Starborn. Cradles the souls of those who dream beyond the veil.

Nocturiel the Dream-Encoded: Sleeper beneath the silver sphere. His sigils bloom in moonlit minds.

--

One might be excused for thinking that this all originated from weird post-70s New Age thinking. And yes, that is true, but it was equal parts that, equal parts of Chariots of the Gods?, and equal parts of television shows like The Phoenix. The catalyst, though, had to be Juice Newton's cover of "Angel Of The Morning."  My thought was, if there is an Angel of the Morning, are the others? Of course there are. 

I make no claim that Lioriel looks like Juice Newton circa 1980. But I also do not not claim it.

#RPGaDay2025 Day 25 Challenge

Monstrous Monday Edition

Over the decades, we've had "Dungeon Level," Monster Mark, Threat Levels, Challenge Ratings, Encounter Difficulty, and a dozen other shorthand systems meant to answer one very old question:

 "Can my party handle this thing?"

And here's the short version of my answer:

 Maybe. But also... maybe not.

That’s the paradox of Challenge in D&D and most fantasy RPGs. It sounds like math, but it plays like myth. There’s a desire, especially in newer editions, to systematize danger. To give you charts, budgets, and formulas that make the world behave. The 3rd Edition tried really hard to codify it. 5e softened the math, but still aims for the same goal: fairness. Balance.

But here's the thing. Balance is an illusion.

Challenge doesn't live in the numbers. It lives in the tension between what the players think they can do and what the world dares them to try.

In old-school games, especially AD&D 1st Edition, there was no guarantee that the next room wasn’t going to have something that would eat you in one round. The game trusted the Referee to warn, not to weigh. The sign of blood on the doorframe, the sulfur stink in the air, the scratch marks on the wall. That was the challenge rating.

And as a monster-maker and adventure writer, I love that freedom. It lets me drop a coven of night hags in the woods outside of a Level 3 village, not because it “fits,” but because it means something. The challenge is a story, not a stat block.

When I design new monsters for my campaigns, or for my witch projects, I rarely ask “Is this balanced?” I ask “Is this meaningful? Is this memorable? Will this scare the players just enough to make them think before they roll initiative?”

Because the best challenges are the ones that change the characters. Not just in XP or loot, but in story. The foe that scars them. The one that got away. The one that cost them something. The monster that becomes a legend around the table.

So sure, build your encounter tables and run the numbers if you like. But don’t forget what the real challenge is:

Getting out alive, with your story intact.

Questions

When. Excited. Adventure.

When am I excited for an adventure? Any time I get to play with my kids and family. 

https://www.autocratik.com/ • https://www.castingshadowsblog.com/

#RPGaDay2025 Day 24 Reveal

Every game has that moment.

The moment when something slips out of the shadows. A secret comes to light. A mask comes off. The moment a reveal hits the table and changes how everyone sees the world, or themselves.

As a DM and a designer, I live for those moments.

They don’t have to be big. Not every reveal is a secret villain or a hidden bloodline. Sometimes it’s just a player realizing they’ve been wrong about their character’s path. Or that the “harmless” NPC has been manipulating things since session two. Or that the relic they’ve been carrying isn’t what they thought it was, and never was.

One of my favorite reveals was during my series of 5e Gen Con games my family played in. There was this elf-girl who kept ending up on the PCs tail. She would be in the same dungeon, or be in the slaver’s camp, or just following. She was Evelyn, the Princess Escalla, and she was leading the rebellion of elven slaves in the drow city of Erelhei-Cinlu.

But every reveal has weight.

In my worlds, especially the occult ones, revelations aren’t always helpful. They don’t always come with a neat explanation or a reward. Sometimes the truth is confusing. Frightening. Half-seen. And that’s the point. Not every mystery needs to be solved cleanly. Some truths don’t bring clarity, they bring consequence.

Another one was Yoln as The Hand of Leviathan. My players (and ther characters) thought the hand was a weapon. It was a person or a former person. 

Speaking of which. 

Lately, I've been threading something into my games. A presence. A name. A whisper behind other plots. He’s not always visible. In fact, he rarely is. But he’s there, like a recurring nightmare that no one talks about. A cosmic echo that appears in different guises across different campaigns and settings.

The players don’t always notice it at first. But eventually, someone will ask:

 “Wait… haven’t we heard that name before?”

 “Didn’t someone else dream about that same phrase?”

 “Why does this ruin in the Realms have the same symbol we saw in a galaxy far, far away?”

And that’s when I smile. Because the reveal isn’t just a plot point. It’s a pattern. Something reaching across time and space and genre, pulling pieces of itself together.

I’ve started calling him The One Who Remains.

He’s not just a villain. He’s not even entirely real in the way most beings are.

 He’s the echo of something that broke too long ago to remember.

 A shadow stitched from regret and silence.

 A thought that keeps trying to remember itself.

In some campaigns, he’s just a whisper. In others, he’s the secret patron behind a warlock’s power. In still others, he’s already won, and no one realizes it yet.

He’s been revealed slowly, in fragments.  And he’ll get more detail in just a couple of days. Day 26 is coming.

Sometimes the best reveals aren’t about answers. They’re about realizing the question has been with you the whole time.

Questions

How. Proud. Person. 

Easy. I was proud of my kids in their first Gen Con game and then really got into the spirit of it right away. The GM later told me he didn't normally like having kids so young, but they did great.

https://www.autocratik.com/ • https://www.castingshadowsblog.com/