Mean Suckers

These semi-magical creatures are voracious emotivores that draw out and consume pettiness, cruelty, the will to maintain grudges, and other emotions considered "mean." They're drawn to people and only exist in locations where there's a population large enough to be "mean" on a scale sufficient to sustain them. One or two are common in small cities while a metropolis may support over a dozen. In those numbers Mean Suckers are a natural and beneficial part of a city's ecosystem, but more than that is cause for alarm.

Populations affected by a Mean Sucker infestation are blank and listless, exhausted by the over-consumption of their emotions. Governments consider the apathy and lack of desire to upset the status quo extremely convenient and regularly import Mean Suckers from elsewhere in attempts to create artificial infestations and bolster their power.

Fortunately Mean Suckers are delicate and easily dispatched, as long as you can muster the energy to swing something heavy at them. It's a shame they're so cute.

Note: Mean Sucker blood is only a powerful euphoric after proper processing. Don't consume it raw.

How to Roll a d4

d4s need more love. They're delightful, solid dice and the best way to generate probabilities in 25% intervals. Yet they seem to be everyone's least favorite dice for two main reasons:

1) They're stabby,

This is a feature, not a bug.

2) They don't roll well.

I won't deny it. The d4's combo of acutely-angled edges and a low center of gravity prevents it from tumbling nicely when thrown in a normal roll, so you end up with that disappointing flop-slide we're all familiar with. The way to avoid that is to modify how you throw them.

A traditional dice roll is a low-angle throw that relies on the die's momentum and friction with the table surface to make it tumble and randomize. Works great for d6s and the rounder dice like d12s and d30s, but not for the elegantly stable shape of the d4. Instead of relying on a roll across the table, you need to make them bounce and tumble to get randomized before they hit the table.

You can do that by using a dice cup or tower, but the easiest way to do it is just shake the dice in your cupped hands to get some randomization, then throw them in an arc up instead of the normal straight-line toss. Your goal is to have the dice tumble in the air, then hit the table at as close to a 90 degree angle as possible so they bounce. You could even just drop them if you did a thorough shake first.

It works great. Try it. Do a few practice throws right now.

See? It's satisfying.

Now go and have fun with your d4s. Teach others what you've learned and maybe one day we'll live in a world where the d4 is only criticized for being stabby. (Because they are and always will be.)

What is Common?

The usual explanations I see for what Common is and why there's this one language that everyone seems to share are:

• It's a standardized trade tongue.
• It's the official language of whatever empire/nation/state/culture you're in.
• It's what humans speak, and they get everywhere so everyone else learns it in order to tell them to leave.

I don't particularly like any of those. They don't appeal to me, so here's my explanation: Common is the language of adventurers.

It's a professional language full of specialized jargon oriented around travel, exploration, delving, fighting, supplies, logistics, and contract law. You know it because you're an adventurer. Your colleagues know it because they're adventurers. The people you talk to (innkeepers, merchants, guides, nobles, etc.) know it because they regularly work with adventurers and need to communicate specifics while doing business.

When you're not talking about the job, you don't speak Common. It might have words for whatever the topic of conversation is, but that's for work. You have to maintain your professional boundaries. The random people you encounter during the day don't speak Common to each other or when they go home, they only speak it to you during the course of business. It only seems like everyone speaks Common regularly because your character is an adventurer and has an adventurer's view of the world.

It makes sense because adventuring is an exceptionally hazardous profession. You need fast, clear communication in the life or death situations you run into. There's no room for misunderstandings or hesitation. 

You need to be absolutely clear about contracts and exactly what you're being hired to do. (Nobles appreciate it because they don't want the party of people who can probably destabilize their realm to feel cheated, come back, and overthrow them.)

You need to be specific about the gear you purchase to make sure it'll be adequate for your nonstandard  needs. (Merchants appreciate it because adventurers are good repeat customers and they really don't want a party of vengeful survivors coming back because their gear failed them in the field.)

So you all speak the Common adventuring language to hash out details and make sure you're all on the same page.

Tiny Coffins Challenge: September

 Welcome back! This month's prompt is:

"decay, fungi, and transformation"

I like decay. Signs of wear and tear on everyday items, dilapidation and visible repairs on old things, and the way places and artifacts fall apart when they're abandoned. There are so many flavors of rot. Fallen trees festooned with mushrooms and bracket fungus, the wood still holding its shape but soft enough to push a finger into. Forgotten sheds and junked cars slowly being torn apart by plants and rusting away to nothing. Abandoned factories caving under their own weight as the elements eat them away. The endless variety of ways that it can happen is fascinating to watch.