Mom’s Chicken-Pork Adobo

Funny enough, one thing my wife Cathy and I were really craving for after our long out-of-town shoot was pork. Partly because we’d spent part of the time in a Muslim-dominated area and were eating, out of curiosity, at Muslim eateries (great food BTW), and partly because fresh seafood was always available. But when we got home, we wanted pork. Since we also have to leave again in a day or two, I decided to combine my craving with a cooking method that will preserve the food for the time we’re away.  Thus, adobo.

Adobo is a classic sailor's/ traveller’s food, because it’s cooked in vinegar which helps it last longer, even without refrigeration if necessary. In fact it even tastes better the longer it’s been around. This time I went for the classic Filipino way of doing it, which is to combine pork and chicken in one pot.

INGREDIENTS

• 1/2 kg chicken
• 1/2 kg pork belly
• 2/3 cup red cane vinegar
• 1/3 cup soy sauce
• 6-10 cloves garlic (about 2 tbsp), crushed
• 1-2 tsp black pepper
• 2-3 bay leaves
• 1 tsp chili flakes (my personal preference)
• 2 cups water
• 1-2 tbsp cooking oil (2 if you’re using lean cuts)

METHOD
The usual method of cooking adobo is to just throw all the ingredients together and boil em into submission. I’ve added a few touches learned from cooking Indian food that seems to result in a better adobo, so I now saute the garlic, pepper, chili flakes and bay leaves first in 1 tbsp hot oil, using a deep saucepan.

Then add the chicken and pork, and fry them until lightly brown, stirring constantly – you have to stir often enough to prevent the garlic from burning. Now add the vinegar and soy sauce. Turn the heat to high and let it boil, uncovered, until the sharp vinegary smell has mellowed to a sweetish-savory aroma.

Add water, let boil again, then turn the heat down and let simmer for about half an hour or until the meats are tender. Classic chicken-pork adobo is cooked until the chicken starts flaking off the bone, about 45 minutes or longer.

Then it’s time for my mom’s touch. When the meats are tender, I pour the sauce out, put the pot back on high heat, and add about 2-3 tbsp of sauce and oil. Since I was using pork belly, I could use the fat from the cooking instead of more cooking oil (uh, yeah, my heart, but trust me this is good!).

Fry the meats until you get a nice brown glaze on them, or even until crispy if you wish.  It’s this refrying step that adds in that kick of extra flavor that elevates this dish from survival food to heavenly favorite! Then add in the remaining sauce, and serve with hot rice (or bread, or potatoes; adobo makes for good sandwich material too).

Hari Ragat: Renown Values

Eureka! I’ve been mulling over how to set Renown values for various accomplishments in Hari Ragat, and finally hit on the solution. It was kinda under my nose the whole time, as solutions tend to be.  All I have to do is to key the Renown values to social ranks. So:

Datu	5
Lakan	10
Rajah	15
Saripada	20
Hari Ragat	25

How does this work? Whenever a character accomplishes something, I just have to compare the deed vs. the ranks on the left. Was the deed something only a Rajah, or a Rajah’s champion, could have done? If yes, then he gets the Renown for the Rajah rank.

If our hero succeeded at a courtship quest, what was the rank of the wife or husband won? If she was a datu’s daughter, our hero gets the Renown for a datu’s rank, possibly plus a few points if the datu was more famous than most. Or if your hero threw a feast, I could check the rank of the most prestigious guest, and give Renown based on that. If your feast was good enough to draw a Lakan, you get a Lakan’s Renown value for it.

Exploits involving the supernatural will usually be considered a rank higher. So for example, if you slay a Raksasa lakan in combat, your Renown gain is equal to that for the next higher rank, Rajah.

Now it’s just a matter of tweaking the numbers …

Hari Ragat: Adventuring & the Gift Economy

Adventuring for  gain is a trope that Hari Ragat will have in common with a lot of other RPGs, and one of the things I like about the way it’s going is that the milieu itself exerts constant pressure to keep adventuring, through the custom of gifting.

Every significant occasion – courtship, birth, marriage, funerals, accessions, etc. – requires giving gifts, which in turn takes from your character’s Wealth. In the most important occasions, the gifts can’t be just any good, they have to be a Bahandi, or heirloom, item: jewelry, luxurious textiles, fine weapons, intricately worked brassware, ceramics from Tien Xia, etc. etc., which are worth more than normal Wealth. Generosity and extravagance are considered virtuous in this society, while acting the opposite way is very damaging to one’s prestige.

Thus PCs in Hari Ragat will continually be driven to go on raiding or trading voyages, lest they suffer a reputation for being niggardly!

The photo above illustrates one of the possible Bahandi types: these are inaul textiles woven by the Maguindanaos of Cotabato.  I was astounded to find out that each of these exquisite patterns has its own name, and often an associated story. One lightning pattern, for example, comes from a mother who once cursed her daughter, only to see her die from a lightning strike a few years later.  The sorrowful mother created the lightning pattern as a sort of homage to her dead daughter.

Harryhausen and the Giants of Hari Ragat

I came home from a long assignment to the sad news of Ray Harryhausen’s death. It was no big surprise, of course – the man was born in 1920 – but it marks the passing of yet another giant of F&SF. We’ve had to say farewell to quite a few of them in the last decade or so, so it’s a good time to reflect on how much we gamers and writers of the genre owe to those giants.

A lot has already been said about Harryhausen and his works, specially his fantasy collaborations with producer Charles Schneer. My imagination was permanently stamped with images of dancing goddesses, battling skeletons and rampaging unnatural beasties thanks to these two, as the Sinbad movies were a staple of my childhood. With so much already said, I guess the best way for me to personally give tribute to this great creator is to acknowledge how much he’s influenced my game designs, particularly for Hari Ragat.

Indeed, when I think of fighting giants in Hari Ragat I think of this particular sequence from The Golden Voyage of Sinbad. The choreography of this fight scene is simply amazing, specially in the light of the very primitive technology available to its makers, by today’s CGI-wiz standards. Here’s a clip of the scene:

Harryhausen also had a fondness for multiple heads as well as arms, as seen in this pic from Jason and the Argonauts:

Harryhausen’s visualizations work  specially well for introducing players to HR because many giants and monsters in my milieu are multi-armed or multi-headed.  In the terms of my Vivid rules system, multiple limbs or jaws count as an Advantage. You’ll have to think of how to counter this advantage, or a Raksasa with multiple arms like Harryhausen’s Kali may have as much as a dozen dice to roll against your three or four!

Another iconic Harryhausen scene that has significantly affected my game design is this one from the 7th Voyage of Sinbad, where Sinbad and his crew use a specially constructed ballista to shoot a dragon. My main takeaway from this scene: you do not just use swords or spears against a creature as badass as a dragon. Taking down something so huge and powerful should require special preparation and methods.

While ballistas could be constructed in the HR milieu – there’s historical precedent in the balatik crossbow traps used to take boar and buffalo in parts of the pre-colonial Philippines – there are also other methods for dealing with very big prey.  Our heroes could take a leaf from REH’s Valley of the Worm, and hunt down a special poison to use on their spears and darts; or make like Odysseus and sharpen a log into a stake for putting out a cyclops’ eye; or use a maritime people’s familiarity with nets and ropes to render a giant helpless. 

You don’t just roll to hit something like a dragon! As of now, the scale rules in Vivid allow me to rule that normal attacks do no damage vs. very large creatures, so there’s a real push for players to find alternative ways of fighting.

But the greatest gift Ray Harryhausen left to fans like me is something that I don’t think I can reproduce with rules. It’s a vision, a taste for mythic story elements and exotic, magical pageantry that all combine to evoke that most magical of feelings – a sense of wonder. It’s the reason I play RPGs, the reason I read F&SF, the reason I write. It’s even part of why I’m a photographer. Thanks, Mr. Harryhausen.

The Sorcerer’s Imperatives

In a previous post, I noted that the sorcerer in the sword and sorcery genre is essentially a terrorist.  To further build up on this idea, and to guide my design of spells and sorcerer characters, I thought of a bunch of ‘imperatives’ that motivate the sorcerers in Tribes of Bronze.

The sorcerers' imperatives are a set of desires common to nearly all sorcerers, and direct the kinds of spells which they research.  The demons summoned by the sorcerers themselves encourage these imperatives, for by the sorcerers' following of them they wreak more chaos upon the world just as the demons desire.

1) Imperative of Dominance
Every sorcerer wants to have power over the rest of mankind.  Spells of dominance compel obedience through fear or through seduction by unholy pleasures.  Such spells are usually of a subtle, secret nature so the sorcerer can wield power without being found out. Some sorcerers, however, like to make open demonstrations of their power so they can rule directly.

Ex: Black Omen
Can only be cast during a solar eclipse, and affects an area of x square miles centered on the caster.  The spell adds to the terrifying effect of the eclipse, so that armies of demons seem to ride across the clouds, hot winds smelling of ash and brimstone sweep the affected area, and all creatures - sentient and not - born in the area within the last few days sicken and die.  The spell is automatically ended when the sun reappears.  This spell is intended to be a bald demonstration of the caster's power, to cow a subject populace or to demoralize an enemy before striking.

2) Imperative of Preservation
Every sorcerer wants  to live forever.  Spells of preservation seek to keep death, age and disease at bay even at the most terrible costs.  The theme of most of these spells is that one's life can only be extended at an unholy price.

Ex: Renewal of the Scaled Ones
The caster enters a deep hibernation, during which his skin becomes scaly and begins to slough off, revealing new, young skin beneath.  During this time all effects of disease and injury are repaired, so that the caster awakens as a youth in perfect health.  Nothing however can wake the caster from this hibernation except its completion.  The spell usually takes a week or so to run its course.

3) Imperative of Cowardice
Every sorcerer values their own life higher than anyone else's; shunning combat as much as possible themselves, sorcerers develop spells to evade attack and increase their minions' chance of victory. 

Ex: Mantle of Darkness
Can only be cast in an enclosed or shadowed space, or at night.  The the caster summons demons to darken a target area, making vision by normal humans impossible.  All sources of light are dimmed to such an extent that they do not aid visibility at all, and yet in the case of flame, do not go out.

4) Imperative of Balefulness
Every sorcerer knows the rest of mankind is against him, and to discourage attack researches spells that will make him seem invincible.  Spells of balefulness are meant to wreak such terror and mayhem that a sorcerer's enemies will regret disturbing him if they ever attack him openly. Thus it’s not enough that a spell can kill, injure or disable an attacker; it must do so in a way that is so gruesome or shocking that it discourages further attack.

Ex: Touch of the Dark Crone
The caster summons a demon to infuse his hand with the power of decay.  Any living being he holds  while the spell is active takes damage as if from a horrible withering disease.

5) Imperative of Knowledge
Every sorcerer wants to know as much of what goes on in the world as possible, to always be abreast of opportunities and threats coming their way.  Spells of knowledge deliver various kinds of information to the sorcerer.

Ex: Listen to the Night Winds
Can only be cast in a place of power, such as an Elder ruin,  between sunset and sunrise.  The caster goes into a semi-conscious trance state.  While in this state, the caster becomes aware of any elements in the world that will have a strong effect on his destiny; approaching enemies, plots against him, major opportunities, and so on.

6) Imperative of Mastery
Every sorcerer believes the way to achieve power is through mastery of the arts and lore of commanding demons; therefore every sorcerer is eternally hungry for new sorcerous knowledge and sorcerous artifacts, and jealous of other sorcerers.  Spells of mastery are the foundation of the sorcerous arts, being the basic spells for dealing with demons.

Ex: Sunder Bonds
If successful, this spell destroys the bond between another sorcerer and that sorcerer's demon servants, including any that have been recently summoned.  Demons whose bonds of service have been severed in this way will no longer obey their old masters, and will likely turn against them.

Combat in Vivid: What I Want to See

Because I’ve been designing the Vivid system for my favorite genres – sword and sorcery, and pulp adventure – combat is a major component of the adventures I have to design for. In an effort to re-start work on my RPG projects, I’m posting these thoughts on how and why I designed Vivid’s combat system to be the way it is, and what improvements I’d like to see so the game plays more like the movie I see in my head.

The Thrust of Combat
What do I want Vivid combat to be about? What do I want the player to be doing? In some games, combat is about deciding where on a grid of squares to place your piece, and which of several abilities will yield the best combination of initiative, damage or what-have-you. I don’t want to go there. Older games (and mayhap, lazy GMs) have taught some players that the only meaningful input is ‘I roll to hit.’ Don’t want that either.

Cinematic combat for me revolves around several ideas that I think players will find cool: balancing courage vs. caution; guessing enemy weaknesses and exploiting them; the interplay of complications and conflicting intents, not ‘Oops I missed;’ and most of all, drama and valuing player input. I want my players playing through a combat scene to be scared, breathless, exhilarated by their victories because they feel earned them, or know how lucky they were to scrape by.

The Guessing Game
Advantage, in the form of bonus dice, is meant to play a major role in Vivid combat.  You want those Advantage Dice for yourself, and you want to keep the enemy from having them. I’ve replaced the old rated Traits/Assets mechanic with unrated Traits that allow you to claim Advantage in appropriate circumstances, provided the opponent has no Traits that can counter it, or there’s something else going on that nullifies it.

For example, your character has the Trait: Light on His Feet. You tell me you’ve got superior speed and footwork, which most of the time gives you Advantage in melee. Your nemesis the Count d’Agrivaine however has a similar Trait; no Advantage there for either of you. In another encounter, you’re fighting in a swamp, in knee-deep muck; the environment makes it impossible to employ this Trait.

So what would I like you to do? I want you to think your way out of this! Is there anything else on your character sheet that may be used to gain Advantage? What could you do to gain Advantage, given the circumstances? If it’s hard to walk in this muck, how much more difficult would it be for the sneering Count to get up from it if you knock him down? Now you’re imagining the possibilities – and you’re engaging the game that much more.

This mechanic also encourages observing your opponents, to try to guess their weakness and exploit it. The weakness may be physical, inherent in your opponent – say, he’s blind in the left eye, so he’s got a blind spot on the left; or mental – the Count d’Agrivaine is very touchy on matters regarding his troubled relationship with his wife; or a consequence of their position in the combat arena – for example, you know the edge of the ruined balcony is made of crumbly stone.

Why Use Unrated Traits
I mentioned earlier that I switched from rated Assets, which could be ‘tapped’ for bonus dice, to unrated Traits that you use to justify claims of Advantage. I did this based on observations of player behavior during play. 

Having a ‘fund’ of dice to spend made players focus on how much they could spend, and when both PCs and NPCs had multiple Assets to tap extra dice from, I could have a dozen or more dice hitting the table from either side – requiring more dice, a bigger rolling tray, and longer to sort out who won the roll-off.

By leaving the Traits unrated, I’m gambling players will focus more on the qualitative aspects than the quantitative. The question in my players’ minds should now be more about ‘how do I make the most of what my character is,’ than ‘how much juice have I got.’ Extra benefits include more focused description/narration, because the players will need to justify why their Traits gave their character Advantage, and of course we can play with less dice.

The Gambling Element
Is combat a form of poker or is poker a form of combat? In an RPG I believe a lot of the fun from combat sequences is very similar to the fun one gets gambling, for many of the same reasons.  Risk is fun.  Risk rewarded is even more fun, and risk rewarded with high stakes is best. But poker, with its mechanics of raising and folding, adds the extra dimension of allowing you to manage your risk.

How to model this in an RPG’s mechanics? In an earlier design I tried having players bid target numbers to roll against, with increasing difficulty. Problem: it made combat too dangerous, and refusing to ‘bet higher’ tended to end in stalemates. So I got rid of that and instead turned to a resource management mechanic, with the inclusion of Guts. 

Guts, in most variants of Vivid, is both your character’s ‘hit points’ and source of extra energy when you want to do heroic stunts. You spend Guts to gain extra dice when you really want to increase the odds in your favor.  At the same time, you want to conserve Guts because it’s a cushion against character death or disability. Just like poker, Vivid can now reward both the conservative player and the bold player, and you can always choose to switch strategies anytime.

Why Use Opposed Rolls
I’ve never liked the rhythm combat develops when you alternate attack rolls between sides; allowing defense rolls only adds more rolls to complicate the procedure, while passive defense is boring, and limits player input. On the other hand having both sides roll simultaneously enhances the feeling of engagement and immediacy for me, and greatly streamlines the resolution procedure. 

Success-Based Effects
I’ve also gotten rid off weapon damage ratings, again because I don’t want players focusing on having the bigger sword/gun/etc.  Instead, my philosophy is every weapon is effective when used in the right way for it. Damage is based on degree of success, and may be soaked with any of a number of Aces, of which Guts is only one.

This mechanic also gives Vivid players the freedom to design a character who can survive combat due to factors other than being made out of a ton of beef. A lucky kid who has an inexplicably charmed life? You can have it, buy Luck as an Ace.  A D’Artagnan type whose dexterity lets him sidestep lethal thrusts? You bet, just buy Quickness as an Ace. If you want a Conan the Cimmerian or Hercules, though, you can just save your points to buy the max allowable Guts.

I’ve playtested and validated some of these ideas already, but the new refinements do require some face to face contact with my players.  Gotta plan a session for my next visit to Manila, or get a group together here.

Valuing PC Discoveries

Hello again, gamerdom! This is the follow-up to my post on the value of knowledge as a treasure in FRPG campaigns. In my last post I tried to explore how knowledge could be made to feel valuable to a player. Now I’ll go into how that knowledge is earned, and how to recognize when it’s been earned.

Some possible criteria for gauging the XP value or money value of new knowledge could include:

Innovation: the knowledge must be of something new, at least to the people the PCs are reporting it back to. 

One idea you often don’t find in a published setting, written up in the usual encyclopedic style, is just how little the peoples of that world may know of each other. There should always be questions that a travelling adventurer can answer better than anyone else – for the right price. Questions such as:

1. What lies beyond X?
2. How do we get to X?
3. What are the threats along the way?
4. What are the threats in place X?
5. Where do we eat/drink/sleep in place X?
6. What can we bring home from place X?
7. Who’s really in charge of X and how do we get on his/her/their good side?

If these questions sound like some of them were taken from a travel mag, you’re right, they are.

Hard-Earned: the PCs must have gone through enough trials and perils to make the knowledge feel hard-earned. Look at the lists of survivors from the great voyages of the 15th and 16th centuries: sometimes less than half the original crew came back.

Useful: the knowledge must be usable to the persons the PCs will report it to. Who would want to know about a new trade route? Who would want to know where to get a rare herb?

This brings us to the last criterion for deciding the value of knowledge: it must be used, either by reporting it to a specific person or group, or by the PCs directly taking another adventure into the same place. If the PCs decide to go again themselves, XPs and gold earned go to making them better-prepared for the next expedition.

If they reported it, then the value depends on how much the PCs were able to deliver, and to whom. The more powerful the people they pass their knowledge to, the better the rewards – specially if the report was made under exclusive terms.

If the PCs delivered good specifics – detailed maps, detailed journals, ship’s navigation logs (rutters), glossaries of a foreign language, samples of valuable goods, a willing and capable envoy from the newly-discovered lands, etc. etc. they should earn more gold/XP from it.

As you can see, these last suggest character actions that players can take, and maybe roll a few checks for as needed, to see how much they can bring back from their voyage of discovery.

Additional role-playing can come in during the reporting stage, as the PCs navigate the power structures of their home base and make sure they and only they benefit from their discoveries. (I highly recommend Allan Cole and Chris Bunch’s The Far Kingdoms to see how this could work).

To spice up a voyage-of-discovery type of adventure, you could even have the PCs be agents in secret for different factions, each with their own agenda. Or perhaps have someone join the voyage with an agenda very different from the PC’s, but his/her presence is vital for some reason. Hawkwood’s Voyage, by Paul Kearney, is a good example of this: a voyage to find and settle a half-forgotten continent across the ocean gets hijacked by a ruthlessly ambitious noble.

Next up on this series: Disasters and Discovery!