City '26, Week 11: Harborside Carousing

Another Monday, another City26 blog post. I enjoy making these, but it is hard to pull myself out of the weekend slump to sit down and actually write. Maybe I should move these to a different day of the week? On the other hand, they're useful for getting my brain juices flowing again, and Monday is still my least-busy day of the week.

Today's entry is a d12 Carousing Table for Harborside, and I think it might actually mark the end of this district as well? That puts me at almost exactly three months to write a district, and with four districts planned, that basically lines up with a full year of City26! I was worried my timing had fallen off somewhere, but I guess not.

How do you make a Carousing Table?

When making or looking for a good carousing table, there are four things I look for in the entries. Not every entry has to have all four, and three is still a sign of an excellent entry. Having at least two of them is a good start, and having only one is fine but tells me I could definitely find a way to improve it. The four things I look for are:

1. An element of choice. Simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing to include. In one sense, deciding to carouse at all is a choice, but I prefer something beyond that. If my decision to party leads to something happening to me, with no input, I don't find that very fun. A good GM can make up for this by using the carousing to tell a good story though.
2. Storytelling potential. This ties back to not wanting something to just happen to my character. I think carousing is better if it leaves room to tell a story. Obviously if you're low on time and just want to get through the carousing, you don't have to spend the time delving deeper into a roll's results. But on the other hand, if you're just trying to hurry up and get through it, maybe you shouldn't have done carousing in the first place? 
3. Consequences, either temporary or lasting. In the same way I don't think something unavoidable happening to me is fun, I don't think carousing is much fun unless there's consequences involved. The consequences don't have to be major, but something that can be referenced again later is always good, even if it's just a reputation as being "that one adventurer who got so drunk they did that thing".  
4. Variety. Probably the thing least present in those "d10,000 carousing tables" and such that you find online.  Having 10,000 entries, or even 100, means that by default you're going to end up with a lot of really similar entries. Sometimes that's by design, and it can be a good thing! I love two or three similar entries with opposite consequences. But I don't want six different entries for "Lose at Gambling" where the only change is how much money you lost or who you lost it to. That's one reason I prefer small, location-curated carousing tables instead of a generic d100 table.

All that said, obviously not every entry on this carousing table fits those qualities! Like I said, getting all four in a single entry is hard. Even getting three of them is a challenge! And if you have just one quality in an entry, don't worry too much. I find that a second (or third) quality often arises naturally when you actually play the game. Like everything else in roleplaying games, a strong imagination and a creative spark helps with this. All that said, let's actually look at Harborside's carousing table:

Harborside Carousing Table (d12)

1. You lose a fight with a sailor from out of town, making an enemy of them and their crew mates. If any event in the city involves sailors, there's a 2-in-6 chance it involves these specific ones that hate you. That's not all though. Roll a d6:
1. You get away with nothing more than a few bumps, scrapes, and bruises.
2. You get nailed with a black eye, which lasts for 1d4 days.
3. A blow to the face knocks loose 1d3 teeth.
4. The fight was in a popular bar. Most people in Harborside have heard about it, and might recognize you as the loser based on your description.
5. The fight was in tavern, bar, or inn you regularly visit, and the owner is angry at you for damages caused during the brawl. You're banned from the premises until you pay for repairs and get back into their good graces.
6. Roll again twice, combining the results (ignore further 6s, but doubles are fine).
2. You win a fight with a sailor from out of town. Although you've made an enemy of the sailor themselves, they were unpopular with their crew, earning you renown among them. If any even in the city involves sailors, there's a 2-in-6 chance it involves these specific ones that like you.
3. You're asked to join a game of cards or dice against some local dock hands. If you participate, roll a d20: on odds you win, on evens you lose. The payout is 3d20 silver pieces. If the payout is 35 sp or more, the dock hands can't afford it, and offer their services as laborers or bodyguards, or some other unspecified favor.
4. You are drawn into a conversation with the most beautiful person you've ever seen. Words flow between you without issue, and you both seem attracted to each other. However, the conversation ends poorly when (roll d4):
1. You fumble a few words, and when you try to recover you accidentally insult them. You can either try to salvage the night, knowing you're already on thin ice, or walk away heartbroken but without further damage to your confidence.
2. Their spouse/lover arrives at your table, just as you make a move. Decide whether to keep pushing or back off. If you take a leap for love, the spouse demands a duel of honor, to first blood. Seeing as they're not a trained fighter, first blood might mean their death, which would understandably upset your potential paramour.
3. You black out, then wake up the next morning with a pounding headache, and no memory of what happened after the conversation. There is a token of affection in your pocket that you recognize as belonging to the stranger, as well as a playing card with some numbers on it. Unfortunately, you also don't remember what the numbers mean.
4. When the stranger steps away to get drinks, a trusted ally carousing with you implies that the stranger is just trying to scam you. There are some signs (they've expressed great interest in your work and how much you make) but you feel a legitimate connection. Decide whether you're going to walk away while they're gone, or stick around and take a chance. (Feel free to roll a d20 to determine their intentions, innocent or devious, based on odds-or-evens.)
5.  You wake up the next morning to find yourself on a dinghy out at sea. You can see the city's port in the distance, but only have a single oar. Returning to shore takes 1d4 hours, and when you arrive you find a search party-- not for you, but for the stolen dinghy, which belongs to the Harbormasters. Plus, sleeping all morning exposed in the sun has left you with a terrible sunburn.
6. Once under the influence of alcohol (or other substances) you end up expressing an incredible talent you didn't know you had-- singing, dancing, painting, etc. Elaborate on the talent as necessary, which is impressive to those around you. The next morning, a talent scout from the Terra Nova district seeks you out. Unfortunately, you fail at demonstrating the talent again. Perhaps it only appears while you're drunk?
7. You wake up the next morning to find yourself in a sewer tunnel, surrounded by candlesticks. Finding your way out takes 1d4 hours. When you return to the surface, the district is abuzz with gossip-- in the night, nearly every home in one neighborhood was broken into, but the thief took only candlesticks. Later in the day, you're approached by a member of the Rovers, who congratulates you on "winning last night's bet". They hand over 2d6 silver pieces, then ask where the candlesticks are. Hopefully you remember how to get to them!
8. In the course of the night, you make a friend out of a young bachelor(ette) from a well-to-do family, who's come to Harborside for a taste of the "low life" before they get married. Because you get along so well, they invite you and your companions to join them and their friends on a party barge they rented for the night. As you continue to talk, they describe their fiancee, who is wealthy but sounds like an awful person. You know that, in their inebriated state, you could probably persuade them to break off the marriage. But doing so might risk the ire of their family, and perhaps the bachelor themselves when they wake up tomorrow morning, with their mind less clouded by drink. 
9. You wake up the next morning a location only mildly familiar to you, but definitely not where you're supposed to be staying. You don't remember how you got here, but there's a package nearby with a note attached. It has your name on it, as well as the name of a street you don't recognize, and the line "payment upon delivery, as agreed." Unfortunately, there aren't any other details, and you don't remember agreeing to anything. The package is wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine, and sealed with wax stamped by a signet ring whose symbol you can't quite make out.
10. During your carousing, you fall in with a charismatic stranger who really knows how to party. Even better, they seem to enjoy your company. They live in Terra Velha, and claim to know the best spots for a good time there. Unfortunately, they don't vibe with your companions, and refuse to bring them along. If you choose to abandond your allies, roll a d20. On odds, the stranger does as promised. Roll twice on the Terra Velha carousing table and take either result, always benefiting from the best possible consequences of a result. On evens, it turns out the stranger hates your guts (for unspecified reasons) and tricked you into an awful night of debasement. You wake up the next morning terribly hungover, missing a sixth of your coinage, and having made an enemy of someone important in Terra Velha (someone other than the stranger, who you probably consider an enemy now).
11. Recognizing you as strong and/or competent, one of the bouncers at a bar asks you to take their place while they quickly run to the bathroom. If you accept, they don't return. The owner has seen you at the door, and assumes you're an official replacement. Stay, and you'll likely get the money the bouncer was owed for the night instead. Leave, and if anything happens the owner will probably hold you liable and remember your face. (Roll a d20 to determine if anything goes down at the bar, based on odds-or-evens.)
12. Perhaps emboldened by a stomach already full of alcohol, you are drawn into a contest run by a local dive bar. If you can finish six shots of a local liquor (a powerful, cane-based alcohol that always burn as it goes down) then you win a round of free drinks for yourself and your companions. Failure, however, means you must pay the cost of all six shots (as inflated by the bar's owner), suffer the humiliation of defeat, and become so drunk you end up making another poor decision tonight (roll again on this table, always suffering the worst possible consequences of a result). 

City '26, Week 10: The Sailcloth Guild (Harborside Faction)

After two and a half months of near-daily writing, I find myself almost at the end of the first of four (maybe five?) districts for my City '26 project, Port Callus. This is definitely the longest I've ever stuck with a daily writing project, hands down. My previous record is, depending on how you look at it, two months, which was really two separate writing projects, each a month long. I now have only two major entries left for Harborside, and have begun to make some outlines for the next district in the city, Terra Nova.

I think the majority of my persistence can be put down to the decision to use Porto as the major inspiration. I could definitely have still done some of this without an existing city to base it on, but many of the overarching elements of the city's layout and structure have basically been taken out of my hands, in the best way possible. When it comes to writing, I often think about the quote "Restriction breeds creativity", and I think that's very true for all of my work.

Enough about that though, let's get into the actual meat and potatoes of today's look into Port Callus-- a new faction, the Sailcloth Guild.

The Sail Loft (1908) by Ralph Hedley 

 

What is the Sailcloth Guild?

A port means ships, and in the era before oil-powered engines, that means sails. Sails, of course, mean miles and miles of heavy canvas cloth for making those sails. As Port Callus is designed to be a "city of guilds", enter the Sailcloth Guild, the people responsible for that work. They're not a very large guild, by the numbers, but they're an economic and political powerhouse... when they need to be. Their work, as an extension of weaving, trimming, and other "women's work" doesn't necessarily receive the respect it should from the city's other guilds and artisans. Since the guild is also one of few led by women, this puts them in a precarious position.

Port Callus is a pseudo-historical fantasy setting, so it doesn't need to directly reflect the culture and outlooks of the period it's channeling (roughly the mid-1700s). However, I do want class structure, political struggle, ideas of self-determination, and economic disparity/exploitation to be prominent themes, especially where they overlap with other themes like gender. I can't always capture those ideas perfectly, but I want them to be elements that linger on the edge of the setting, almost able to be forgotten-- right up until they come front and center, unable to be ignored any longer.

Who They Are

Like my other factions, I start with three major NPCs. In this case, all three are leaders for different sub-factions within the Sailcloth Guild. In the fiction of the setting, these sub-factions arose naturally as a result of the division in labor within the guild. Their work, important and big but consolidated into one place, has allowed them to be early adopters of the "Industrial Revolution" style of keeping subsets of workers focused on discrete tasks. For the Sailcloth Guild, that means (roughly-speaking) weavers, in charge of turning linen thread into canvas; cutters, whose job is to measure the cloth, cut it, and then form it into the appropriate shapes; and the carriers, the people in charge of rolling up the sails, and getting them to the ferrymen who bring it to the docks.

 Leandra Vidal (F, Guildmaster)

• Motive: "Our work is the lynchpin of the city's trade. Without it, everything cracks, breaks, and eventually falls. We shouldn't abuse that, but we shouldn't let those high and mighties at the Freemen's Guild forget it either."
• Means:
•  Handles every part of the ordering process, including setting fulfillment times and deciding the pace for completing work orders.
• Has a mind for numbers, letting her balance checkbooks and know exactly how much canvas is needed for an order (even accounting for possible accidents; she's basically never wrong).
• Hard-edged, no-nonsense attitude; doesn't take shit, and gives as good as she gets. Outside of arguments, she's exceedingly friendly and easy to like, like that grandma who first taught you to swear.
• Opportunity: If negotiations with the other guilds don't go her way, she isn't above throwing her guild's weight around, but prefers subtlety (like hiring outside help) to direct action.

Carmo Venancio (F, Lead Spinner)

• Motive: "The work is all that matters-- more than financial disputes, more than power struggles, and more than the life of any one person."
• Means:
• In charge of the guild's spinners, who actually weave the linen into canvas, which also make up the majority of the guild's workers. They are more dedicated to Carmo than they are to Leandra, the guildmaster.
• Impossibly quick hands, created from a lifetime on the docks as a pickpocket, followed by another lifetime on the production line.
• She's as old as spit; definitely the oldest person in the guild, and maybe the oldest in all of Harborside. That doesn't seem like a strength at first, but it means everybody and their grandmother knows her, and everyone who doesn't always underestimates just how stubborn she can be, and how committed she is to the guild's work.
• Opportunity: If the guild comes under risk of falling apart, or stopping their work, then she'll do anything it takes to keep it going. Anything. Carmo's lived her whole life in Harborside, and before she was a spinner, she was a survivor.

Amelia Valente (F, Lead Hand)

• Motive: "I don't see why we should be tamed. They don't appreciate what we do. They see it as women's work, but I think the time is fast coming for us to show them all just how much they need us."
• Means:
• In charge of the guild's cutters (responsible for turning canvas into measured sails) and the carriers (everyone on the "supply" side, responsible for taking the sails where they need to go).
• Piercing eyes that don't miss anything. One look at a sheet of canvas and she sees every flaw. One look at a crumpled roll of linen and she knows just how many meters there are. One look at a shipment, and she knows whether it's been tampered with.
• Scathing in every interaction, with a tongue as sharp as the knives and scissors on her belt. What few compliments she gives are terse and short, like lines of steel, but always feel earned. She cultivates unflagging loyalty, and good words from her are words you carry for the rest of your life.
• Opportunity: If she sees a moment of weakness, she jumps on it, no matter where or when. It's not that she doesn't care about consequences, she just knows that she can handle them. Nothing draws her ire like the Freemen's Guild though, which she loudly and frequently criticizes as a circus of fools, "barely capable of leading their own asses to the privy" much less in leading the city to prosperity.

What They Have

Unlike the Rovers (the previous Harborside faction) the Sailcloth Guild has direct access to a lot more money, people, and influence. Those things are assumed to be in their assets, so this list focuses on specific assets like property or ongoing situations that can be turned to their advantage.

1.  Factory and Workshop: Located outside of Harborside, up the river and away from the harbor, high on a cliff in what is technically Terra Nova. It sits on a fairly large plot of land, and was built there decades ago, before the district was the home of the nouvea-riche merchant class. The property includes more than just the factory and workshop, extending from the closest streets (where properties pay rent and taxes to the guild) all the way down the cliffside to the river (where the guild has a private dock for bringing in linen and shipping out sails).
2. Ferryman's Guild: The Sailcloth Guild and the Ferryman's Guild have strong ties that stretch back generations, to a time before the Freeman's Guild was established. The ferrymen transport the guild's finished sails downriver, while their own boats rarely require sails. Those that do need them get the product at a steep discount. Altogether, this means the ferrymen are likely to support the Sailcloth Guild in any political moves they make, and vice-versa. Splitting their causes would be nearly impossible without incredible leverage.
3. Floating Credit: Many of the foreign merchant ships that purchase sails in Port Callus can't afford the cost upfront. This isn't surprising, and most merchant ships have a network of debt that criss-crosses the continent, backed by banks, guilds, and city governments. The Sailcloth Guild, however, is older than most banks, and doesn't accept outside credit. Instead, purchases from them by merchant ships are backed by a combination of the Harbormasters, the Merchant's Council, and the Freemen's Guild, letting them take on the debt of merchant ships and make a profit via interest. This represents a significant unpaid cost, however, and if the Sailcloth Guild began to refuse the consortium's credit (or even worse, called in the outstanding debt) it would be disastrous, and practically bankrupt at least one of these organizations if mishandled.

How They Act

With the rising levels of crime found in Harborside and Terra Velha, where most of the guild's membership (usually women, often older) actually lives, Leandra the guildmaster felt it important that members be able to defend themselves. To that end, workers are taught how to fight using the tools of their trade-- spinners wield pairs of needles like stilettos, while cutters use square-cut knives in one hand and razor-sharp scissors in the other. Everyone else is taught using billy-clubs and batons, and issued a small, single-shot pistol (supplied and paid for by the guild).

What They Want

1.  Ensure an ongoing, stable income for all members of the guild, without fear of increased fees from the Freemen's Guild. If the workers in the guild can't afford daily meals, a roof above their heads, and enough savings to stay comfortable when they can't work anymore, what's it all for then? Luckily, the guild is successful, even if each order is sold for less than the sum of its work should be worth, and the necessity of their product means they always make more than enough. However, their prosperity draws constant aggression from the Freeman's Guild, who tries to saddle the Sailcloth Guild with larger fees to offset their own costs.
2. Expand their work, establishing formal contracts with merchants who frequent Port Callus on their trading routes. Although they don't accept credit from foreign banks, the guild isn't against working out an agreement with a trading company they can trust. As a sub-goal to this, the Sailcloth Guild wants to build these contacts without the help (or intervention) of the Freemen's Guild, so that the contracts stay solvent even if something happens to the Freemen's Guild.

 Who They Know

As a major guild with a representative in the Freemen's Guild, the Sailcloth Guild has many enemies and allies, all at varying levels of trust and enmity. This isn't a comprehensive list, but a collection of the biggest names-- the people they can always trust, who would almost never turn against them; and the people they're suspicious of, who are always plotting to undermine them.

Allies

The Ferryman's Guild: Close collaborators of the Sailcloth Guild, who benefit from their work at little cost to themselves. Their connection goes back to the oldest days of the city, before it achieved its own independence, and before they were the only formal guilds for ferrymen or sail-makers. They have a working contract, more a formality than anything, which itself is nearly 100 years old. By its own terms, the contract is renegotiated every 10 years, or whenever agreed upon by both parties.
The Green Fleet: A trading company and fleet of merchant ships owned by the Green Merchant, an enigmatic figure from another nation. No one knows the Green Merchant's true identity, but they've got dozens of ships at their command, and sit at the confluence of several economic networks. Many of the Green Fleet's ships regularly resupply at Port Callus, taking advantage of its competitive prices and relatively loose regulations. Because of this, they have strong ties with many of the suppliers for ships, including the Sailcloth Guild.

Enemies

The Freemen's Guild: On paper, ally; in practice, a neutral party; in times of struggle, a definitive detractor. The Freemen's Guild is led by council, and although the Sailcloth Guild has a sitting representative, most of the other council members are from wealthy families. They resent members from the lower-class, including the Sailcloth Guild, which for some council members has become a stand-in of everything they hate about Port Callus's underclass.
The Weaver's Guild: This conglomerate of smaller guilds started as a collection of well-to-do clothiers, who over time absorbed the smaller, less-powerful and less-wealthy guilds responsible for making their materials. At some point they absorbed the old Weaver's Guild but kept the name, giving them an appearance of workmanship to outsiders, that belies their nature as money-hungry businessmen with a finger in every pie they can reach. The only weaving-adjacent guild they haven't managed to tie to themselves are the Sailcloth Guild. Attempts to make it otherwise are backed by some in the Freemen's Guild, but constantly blocked by several major players including the Sailcloth Guild themselves, the Harbormasters, and the Merchant's Council.

City '26, Week 8/9: Harborside – 2d5 Random Encounters

 Well it's been a quiet two weeks on this blog, but not for lack of work! In spite of everything, I have still managed to sit down and do a single City '26 entry every day. Some have been easier than others, definitely, but overall I'm still really enjoying the experience. The deeper into it I get, the more I appreciate my decision to base Port Callus on my new home of Porto. Every time I step  outside of my routine (not happening much these days because the weekends are still a little grey and cold) I find myself full of inspiration. 

That's been especially helpful for this week's completed entry, which is a Day/Night encounter table for Harborside, the river district I've been working on. Some of these entries were pulled wholesale from thin air, while others are inspired by things I read about the city and places I see (sometimes blended with half-remembered encounter tables from other games). 

A view from the Ponte Luís I, one of the city's major bridges, looking toward Gaia (a sort-of neighbor, sort-of the same city). Not representative of right now though, in the days before spring.

As far as encounter entries go, they aren't bad. They could use some improvement, but I'm trying to keep everything here "editing lite" (I would say unedited, but I'm the type of fool who can't help but edit as I write). Some of them lack the punchy-ness I usually like in my encounter tables, and maybe fall a little too heavily into being an immediate problem to be resolved. But they're all open-ended– something I've seen a few people complain about in regards to encounter tables, but it's what I prefer. If an encounter is open-ended enough, it means I can tweak some aspects the next time I roll it, or take the resolution and use it as inspiration the next time I roll the same result. I find "repeating" encounters in this way does a lot of lifting in building out a setting and getting that "living, breathing city" thing going.

Harborside – Encounter Tables

Daytime:

1.  As the party passes along the river, a vendor at a nearby stall call out, attempting to draw them close. The vendor sells a variety of jewelry, and has singled out the party because they have a bracelet/watch that matches perfectly with one of the PC's outfits. The vendor is offering them a "special deal", and the price is actually quite excellent– however,  it isn't so low as to cause suspicion, and the item is clearly of good (though not particularly high) quality. Closer inspection might reveal it's actually made of a cheaper material than the shopkeeper claims, such as pyrite instead of gold, polished steel instead of silver, etc. If the party walks away though, the vendor does everything they can to stop them, and appears to be absolutely desperate to sell this piece to the PC specifically.
2. A merchant's apprentice, no older than 16, is handing out fliers to advertise their master's shop. They are aggressive about it, shouting loudly enough to be heard above most of the crowd, and practically shove an advertisement into the party's hands. The paper claims the merchant deals in specialty goods, of a kind similar to one the party just received (either as a reward for a job, or obtained on an adventure outside the city). Should the party seek this merchant out to trade their wares for coin, the deal is completed without issue. But the merchant, looking to break even on their new business as quickly as possible, paid the PCs in counterfeit coins, made from plated brass. This trickery is only revealed if the party weighs the coins themselves, or when another merchant does so the next time the party tries to buy anything.
3. Caught in the perpetual crowds of Harborside, one of the PCs feels a tugging on their belt. Although familiar with pickpockets and quick to react, by the time the PC turns around, all they see is a young man absconding with their coin purse. If they can keep up with the thief long enough to corner him or tire him out, he'll give up and hand them their purse back, hoping to avoid conflict. The young man is Pinch, a thief well-known in the district as a genial, though mischievous, ruffian (featured in the list of Harborside Notable NPCs). Impressed that they caught him, Pinch will try to strike up a conversation, asking about the PC's life and expressing genuine interest in what they do. If they respond in kind, the party has a chance of making a new ally with the young man, whose particular set of skills are always useful.
4. The party finds themselves hassled by an official-looking individual in a red and green cloak, flanked by a trio of thuggish men who look like mercenaries. The official is an operative from the Freemen's Guild, the federation of trading guilds that holds economic (and political) power in the city. They claim to be carrying a warrant for the arrest of one of the PCs, and offers two options– give themselves up willingly, or be taken in by force. What the official is actually carrying is a wanted poster with a mild resemblance to the PC in question, but they're hoping to bully the party into an easy arrest in order to pad their monthly quota.
5. Frustrated shouts and pleading screams crash through the crowd toward the party's location, along with a string of curses and indignant gasps. Suddenly a weedy, bookish man pops out from between a throng of people, and immediately dives for cover behind the largest character. The man is followed by a group of ruffians, and he begs the party to help him hide. If the thugs spot the bookish man, they pause, clearly not wanting to physically tangle with the PCs. However, they still approach, and demand the party give the bookish man to them, claiming he owes them a debt. The bookish man counters this offer with one of his own, saying he'll pay the party handsomely if they protect him, and claiming to be a (wealthy) accountant that can make it worth their while to be his temporary bodyguards.

 

 

A postcard showing the intersection of Rua das Flores and Rua Mouzinho da Silveira, circa 1900. This corner is now home to one of the major metro stops on the Porto-Gaia line, but wonderfully, still looks very similar. It's also incredible for people-watching.

Nighttime:

1. Several brawlers burst out of the door of a bar, spilling into the street and engulfing passerby into the fight, including the party. It begins with a fist or flagon to the head of one PC, and before they can react properly, it devolves into a series of blows from all directions, without apparent sides or a source of the argument. The fight ends once more than a few of the fighters are left slumped on the ground, unconscious, or when a harbormaster and their hired muscle come in to break it up (after 1d6 rounds). If the latter happens, the harbormaster issues a fine to everyone involved, regardless of fault.
2. In the harbor's nighttime crowed, one of the PCs is quickly shoved from one side, followed by a faint tug on their belt from the other, and finally a foot at their ankle trying to trip them. When the PC recovers, their coin purse and one other valuable item from their inventory is missing. The thieves are a group of teens, and if the PCs recovers quickly enough, they can chase one of them into a dead-end alley. Unfortunately, the kid runs straight into a trio of goons, wearing the signature colors of Casa Nunes, a notorious crime family. The kids work for the goons, paying a share of everything they take as "protection costs". The goons aren't happy the thief led the PCs to them, and will be downright furious if the PC tries to demand their money back. Whether the conflict escalates to violence might depend on whether the PC is willing to cut a deal.
3. Some shouting nearby draws the eye to a crowd of people gathered around a man standing on a wooden platform. Claiming to be a merchant-prince from across the sea, the man is handing silver coins to everyone he can, one per person. Many are skeptical, but they accept what they see as most-likely-fake coins all the same. The "prince" has two bodyguards, both well-equipped with pricey gear, who rush the man away when a harbormaster approaches to investigate the clamor. If the PCs get their hands on one of the coins, they'll find it's not only real silver, but was minted with an unusual icon on one side (perhaps a symbol that only one or two PCs recognize, or which means something to one of them).
4. Just as they are trying to sleep, the regular inhabitants of whatever building the PCs are staying in begin to argue, which quickly devolves into a shouting match about trash habits. The Harborside building, like all others, is small and the walls are thin, letting each weird pierce through. The noise of the fighting is unbearable, and prevents all attempts to sleep. If it goes on for too long, the owner of the rooms/building asks the PCs, as impartial outsiders and armed arbiters, to intervene. The argument is petty, involving whether residents should carry their trash out during the morning or at night. Proponents of keeping the trash overnight and taking it out next morning argue that it is less likely to invite pests this way; the other side believes that leaving it inside all night is filthy and unsanitary. This isn't the first time they've fought over the issue, but it might be the last– if the PCs fail to resolve the dispute properly, one of the key residents involved is found dead in the morning.
5. As they pass through a fairly busy road, a furtive man tries to grab the PC's attention. If successful, he'll try to sell the group a variety of drugs, but mostly hashish and cocaine. Although these are technically illegal, the booming port trade makes them readily available. However, if the PCs are especially receptive, and can convince the dealer they have money to spare, the man offers to take them somewhere else. Somewhere they can buy better and stronger stuff, at least according to him.

 

Rua da Fábrica (or maybe Santa Teresa, they're the same road). A great street in Porto to experience the nightlife, and a locale where most of these events really wouldn't feel out of place. In fact, one of them has happened to me, several times.

City '26, Week 7: Thoughts on the Project

Now over seven weeks into City '26, and I've managed to overcome my first real scheduling challenge-- last week I went to a concert in a different city, ~3 hours away, then came back the same night/morning to step in the door at 6 AM. It was a great show! Amazing bands, plus a venue I've never been to that felt like it accurately captured the "Philly grunge" I've been so desperately missing since moving overseas. But as you can imagine, that meant no City 26 entries for the day of the concert OR the day right afterward... aaaaand I also didn't end up writing anything the day before the concert either. Just bad scheduling and laziness, in that case. It meant I lost basically half my week without anything written! But I took a little extra time, spread the missed entries out over the rest of the week, and got caught back up!

That doesn't sound so hard, I know. They're short entries, and doing more than one a day for just a little while isn't exactly backbreaking labor. But for a second there, I really did contemplate quitting. I had to actually sit down and ask myself "what am I doing this for?" It's a question I've asked myself before, one I'm definitely going to end up asking again, and one that feels really important for me to regularly come back to.

Me, questioning whether I even enjoy writing (an activity I've performed regularly for seven years) after not writing anything for five fuckin' minutes.

If you've ever set out to complete a long-term project of any kind-- whether it's writing, an art piece, some sort of other physical craft, whatever-- you've probably had that moment where you got a little tired, maybe a little bored of it, and put it down, just for a short break. And then, every time you think about picking it back up again, it feels almost impossible. Or maybe not! Perhaps that feeling isn't as universal as I'd like to believe. But I think I've seen it happen often enough, out there in the wilds of internet forums, or in the grand plans weaved by friends. And for me, this experience is pretty regular. I spin grandiose dreams of writing projects (like a blog maybe?) and commit to doing them, regularly and on schedule, then fall off as time goes on.

Thankfully, this has happened to me so many times, I know exactly what the reason is. In my case, it's a combination of burnout and executive dysfunction. I know for a fact that part of my brain requires constantly changing conditions, a regular back-and-forth, to stop itself from chewing holes in the carpet of my mind like a dog trapped inside a back bedroom. Unfortunately, regularly scheduled activities are sort of anathema to this. Especially if they require a lot of thought from me, but are the types of things that shouldn't be very thought-based, like social media presence and posting my writing where people can see it. So every once in awhile, I have to let the rabid dog bit of my brain out to run wild in the fields of entertainment, and accept that whatever I've managed to get done in the meantime is good enough. But the second, hidden downside to this is that when I come back to the activity I left, picking it back up feels much more difficult. 

This is mainly because, as you might imagine, my brain is not well-rewarded by long-term goals. Short-term is fine, sure-- I enjoy the brief rush of getting something complete enough that I could use it for myself, or share it with other people. But long-term goals (like finishing a writing project deliberately designed to take a year to complete) feel a lot less rewarding. Because they feel intangible. Because they haven't given me any sort of joy (read: dopamine) for awhile. Because I've stopped focusing on them for 24 hours, causing the discrete chunks of the task to shift away from "takes 30 mins to complete" and into "this will take hours to do".  But hold on! I've discovered a secret; a way to trick my brain into converting a long-term goal into a short-term, brain-massaging reward, and deal with picking it back up EVEN IF it feels like writing a d10 table will take 3 hours. I ask myself "what am I doing this for?", and then I let myself daydream. 

I stop focusing on what it's going to take. I don't think about the effort I'll have to put in to placing words on a screen, making patreon updates, bluesky posts, and self-advertising. Instead, I let myself be lost in the unlikely visions of success without effort. And when I come back to the ground, I can feel myself on the edge of that success. And suddenly, the long-term reward feels like it's just a few short-term actions away.

Is this healthy? I have no idea. Is it useful for other people? Also not sure! Plus in the end, part of what helps me to sit down and actually get anything down is also having a regular, daily schedule. Not a "calendar-it-in and chunk out 30 minute blocks" type of schedule, but just a basic daily routine of wake up, shower, eat and watch a little TV, write something, do errands, write some more. But when that daily routine is interrupted by something, whether it's 24 hours of travel and live music, more errands than normal, or a day off to spend time with a friend, picking back up what I put down is hard. Especially if I was already starting to fall into the part of the creativity cycle where I was getting a little bit bored of whatever I was working on. Sometimes, stepping away to work on something similar, but not identical, also helps-- like writing something other than what I should be working on. Maybe something like writing a blog post about procrastination, instead of a blog post about game design or a daily writing challenge? But a little daydreaming, about what the project will look like when it ends and what it'll feel like to have it done, goes a long way too. And for me, the way to ignite that daydreaming is definitely to sit down, and ask myself "what am I doing this for?" Not only is that probably an important way to reassess whether I'm actually doing something I want to do (not every project is meant to be finished; sometimes you stop enjoying something entirely and that's okay too) but it's also a great way to remind yourself of what the larger, motivating reward behind a project originally was. Even if a project itself is fun, I think its useful if you don't let yourself lose sight of what inspired you to pick it up in the first place.

City '26, Weeks 5 + 6: The Rovers (Harborside Faction)

Well, another two weeks have come and gone, but I've somehow managed to maintain my efforts on City 26! Not bad, if I do say so myself. I was worried the beginning of February is where I would start to falter, but I'm still feeling very committed. Of course, I managed to keep Dungeon 23 going all the way up until April, so I'm not quite at the point of beating my record yet.

Once again, I'm trying to limit some of the hassle of the challenge for myself by only making updates here when I actually finish something. While I like writing, I actually struggle a lot with posting on social media (I never really took very well to the habit), and even though I really wanna share my work it's got to battle with my urge to remain unobserved personally. That aside, it means today I'm sharing the first fully complete faction of this setting/district, the Rovers!

 

Although they aren't pirates, I promise this image is relevant to the Rovers all the same. 

What Are The Rovers?

As a classic harbor/port district, Harborside doesn't feel complete without its share of crime. And of course, what's the point of having crime in a pseudo-fantasy setting if you don't have a few crime families/thieves guilds? Actually, Harborside (and Port Callus as a whole) have several, but the Rovers are my attempt at cutting into the classic "thieves guild" trope. I say cutting because, while I would like to have an approximation of a thieves' guild, I'm looking to break away from some of the repetitive standards of the trope and build something a little more realistic for my setting. Doing that means taking what I like (underground headquarters, honor among thieves) and leaving some stuff behind (specific "roles", firm hierarchy).

Before I get into the Rovers themselves, it's worth noting how I build factions. My method pulls from several places, but primarily the outline found in (again) Idle Cartulary's Preparing for City 26 blog post. The outline includes some common faction stuff I like to use (specific NPCs, Assets, Quirks) and some stuff I don't; the things I do use, I tend to write a little differently. For example, when trying to build quick NPCs (like for, say, a year-long writing challenge) I actually use The Retired Adventurer's system of Motive, Means, and Opportunity. I like it because it gives me a handle on how to run them, but for a location-based design challenge like this one, it also lets me weave them deeper into the fabric of the setting. Although I keep the wording of their motive general, I usually build it around how the setting works and what sort of factors in the setting that I know are putting pressure on that NPC.

Who They Are

I'll start with the factions major NPCs-- this isn't all of them, of course. There's plenty of members, but the point is to keep the Rovers as an informal group; again, trying to avoid the trope of a thieves' guild whose stringent ranks and organization leave it feeling like a military.

Ardin (M, Leader)

• Motive: "Traders take people's money, guilds take the trader's money, rich folk own the guilds, and sneaks like us take money from the rich. It's all a big circle of life."
• Means:
• Charismatic, naturally born leader, skilled at getting people to see his side of the story.
• Cultivates unyielding loyalty from most Rovers, many of whom would happily give themselves up to save him.
• Good at connecting events and actions that seem unconnected, letting him see the city's political flow even though he isn't directly involved.
• Opportunity: If Ardin can find a way to make the Rovers secure, to ensure the group lives on if something happens to him, then he's willing to risk everything he has to make it happen-- but only as long as it doesn't risk the gang.

 Diniz (NB, Smuggler)

• Motive: "Ardin doesn't take our line of work seriously enough, but if we tried harder, we could compete with some of the bigger gangs."
• Means:
• Well-known at the docks, although not well-liked, but many sailors and merchants are still willing to do business with them.
• Knows how to get in and out of the city without drawing attention. They also know how to get into parts of some of the city's landmarks that aren't accessible to the general public, either by bribery or by stealth.
• If it came down to it, some Rovers would support Diniz's bid for leadership, even though they're loyal to Ardin. This is because Diniz is better at bringing in money. But if the gang were to become financially secure, they would jump ship.
• Opportunity: If Diniz sees a chance to undermine Ardin's competency in front of others, they're sure to take it, but only as long as they can still feign ignorance later or if Ardin's plans works out.

Lacinda (F, Fence)

• Motive: "I'm tired of living small with the Rovers; I want to build up enough stock to open a real market stall, and do something with my life."
• Means:
• Has an eye for value, able to accurately estimate the price of most objects after a short period of study. She's even read a lot of history books, all to get better at pricing older, more unusual valuables.
• Has access to an existing network of collectors and merchants who purchase her questionably obtained stock at bargain prices, without asking questions. She hopes to turn them into real merchant contacts when she has her own stall.
• Has hidden away a sizable stash of money, nearly enough to purchase a cart, permit, and additional stock. But in a truly desperate emergency, something that threatens her safety or security, she'll use it.
• Opportunity: If someone brings Lacinda a particularly valuable item-- something unusual she or the other Rovers would never normally get their hands on-- then she can't resist the temptation to lie about its value, underplaying it in order to buy it cheap then sell it later and pocket even more for herself.

What They Have

After the major NPCs comes the major assets that the faction has access to. In the case of the Rovers, it's not a lot-- they're an informal group, closer to a street gang. But they're still more involved in the activities of a thieves' guild than any of the proper criminal families found in Port Callus. This means their resources are generally internal (fundamentally a part of the group) and their external resources (usually social contacts or physical objects) are pretty limited/niche in use.

1. Natural Talent: Joining the Rovers requires a natural talent for thievery, proven by the test for membership, which requires getting a signet ring from a member of a merchant guild. It doesn't matter which guild or how the ring was obtained-- they could break in to their house, slip it from their finger, mug them in an alley, or whatever works best. As long as they get the ring, don't get caught, and don't bring any heat back on the Rovers themselves. This means that all of the members are skilled thieves, in one way or another (and acts as a less formal way of establishing a member's "role" a la traditional thieves' guilds).
2. Hidden Headquarters: The Rovers host meetings, and several of them live, in an informal "headquarters" in a disused section of Harborside's sewer system. Located below the river's waterline, the massive storm drain was abandoned when the city undertook extensive renovations 60 years ago (right after the population started to explode again). It's very well hidden, behind a false wall that was originally built to brick up the storm drain entirely. Getting to the wall itself is tricky, requiring someone to pass over a makeshift, wooden bridge across a deep sewer canal. The bridge is sturdier than it looks though, and can actually be lifted by a hidden pulley system.
3. Secret Funds: The cistern at the center of the headquarters also holds a stash of coins, bank notes, and jewelry, and other stolen goods. It's kept in a small tunnel beneath a shallow pool of water, inside a watertight, leather bag. Every time more members work together on a job, they're supposed to bring back a little bit of the take as a fee for the group. Ardin has collected all of it, over time, and placed it in this stash. No one knows about it but him, although some members have suspicions about a hidden fund somewhere. Ardin uses it to fund bail for Rovers who get arrested, pay off informants and a few crooked guards, and buy supplies for the headquarters. But no matter what, he always collects more than he spends, planning to some day use it to make the Rovers into a proper organization.

How They Act

Every group needs at least one quirk to set them apart. Something that turns them from a faceless, disparate collection of people into a real organization of people bound together. 

In the case of the Rovers, every single member has a stick-and-poke tattoo of a jolly roger (the classic skull-and-crossbones pirate symbol) somewhere on their body. Most of them choose a shoulder, ankle, or the side of their abdomen, where it isn't easily noticed but can quickly and unobtrusively be shown off to other members. The specific design for each one varies as well, because the tattoo has to be given by the member that recruited you. This means long-term Rovers like Ardin and Diniz, people who've recruited several other members, tend to have developed specific styles, letting other Rovers know who recruited them when they see the tattoo.

What They Want

A pretty simple question, and an obvious one. What does the faction want to do? What are their aims, their long-term goals? The Rovers have two of them:

1. Obtain enough money for each individual member to support themselves, even in hard times. The ideal, however, is to establish the Rovers as such a force in Harborside that they earn enough to live well, even when they aren't actively working. This would also mean that if something happens to a member, and they can't work anymore, the others can still help take care of them.
2.  Update, renovate, and expand their headquarters. While it works well enough, and there's still more space than they need, it isn't the finest locale in Harborside. Most of it is the unused cistern and about a dozen old sewer maintenance rooms, but finding more nearby "dry" sewer areas would give them room to grow. Putting a floor over the cistern would make it safer, putting beds and furniture in all the rooms would give everyone a place to stay that isn't cold and wet, and making other entrances would mean more mobility across the district and avoid having to pass over the (admittedly a little dangerous) bridge each time they want to enter or leave.

Who They Know

Finally, every faction needs a few allies and a few enemies. One of each is good enough, two is better, and three is icing on the cake. These might be other large factions, either in the same district or a different one; a "mini faction" that comes into play only under specific circumstances; or even a major NPC in the district the faction is located in, who can almost be considered a faction in and of themselves.

The Rovers have two allies and two enemies, which is a lot for such a small-time operation, but works well when considered alongside the fact that the Rovers, and several of their major NPCs, are all looking to expand into something more formal.

Allies

Pinch: One of several major NPCs in Harborside itself. Although Pinch isn't a formal member of any gang, he maintains a close relationship with the Rovers; several of its members were recommended by Pinch, and are still friends with him. While he can't be counted on for a job, Pinch isn't above taking some heat or offering aid when he sees a member of the Rovers in trouble.
The Pearly Ray: A merchant ship and frequent visitor to Port Callus's harbor; its second mate is a former member of the Rovers turned straight, and its captain is a long-time friend of Ardin. Although the ship as a whole sticks to strictly lawful work, some of its crew are less scrupulous. They're willing to help the Rovers when they need muscle, information, an alibi, or if they can be convinced, even a place to temporarily lay low.

Enemies

Casa Nunes: Technically a rival gang, but Casa Nunes is an old-school family, proper mobsters, centered in the northern district of Terra Velha. That said, they've been involved in the seedier side of Harborside's businesses for over five generations. For their part, Casa Nunes views the Rovers as a thorn in their side, but are otherwise unbothered. They've got agreements with the other families, and the Rovers aren't going to be a major threat any time soon. But for the Rovers, Casa Nunes is a major factor in everything they do-- the Rovers present easy targets for Casa Nunes thugs, a patsy for the family to pin the blame on if something goes wrong, and a bug that Casa Nunes could crush any time if they felt like the cost of doing it was less than what the Rovers cost them in business. This means the Rovers feel constantly threatened, and are mostly hoping for a way to avoid the situation until they can protect themselves properly.
The Harbormasters: Exactly what they sound like, the people in charge of the both harbors, the river half and the ocean half. As well as being in charge of tracking incoming and outgoing ships and their cargo, the harbormasters of Port Callus function as law enforcement for specific "harbor" areas defined by the city's laws. This includes much of Harborside, making them enemies to most criminals, including the Rovers. Unfortunately for the Rovers, the big families and a couple of the largest street gangs have "agreements" with a lot of the individual harbormasters. As the new kid in town, the Rovers can't afford those same agreements. But fortunately, the harbormaster's newest captain, Master Guerreiro Gonsalves, is cracking down on bribery and has put his focus on threats from outside of the city, taking some of the heat off of the Rovers.

The Spectrum of Allies

So a funny thing happened to me recently. While scrolling Bluesky, where I primarily follow a number of art and TTRPG related people, I came across a post talking about the "Spectrum of Allies," showing a hand-drawn image of a sort of half-wheel with sections titled things like "passive allies" and "active opposition". Thinking this looked like a promising resource on running NPCs in tabletop games, and with not enough time to read the full post (I was bojangling on actually getting real work done) I opened the link in another tab, saved the post, and moved on. 

And SO, imagine my surprise when I later read the article to find that the Spectrum of Allies is actually a real-life political tool, designed to help activists find community support for their causes. Safe to say I was still really interested in the contents of the article, but the thought of using this nicely labelled half-circle as an RPG tool wouldn't leave my mind. But with no one else to do the work, I realized my dreams of another nifty NPC resource would have to be fulfilled by me-- hence this post you're reading now.

What is the Spectrum of Allies?

If you want to read the original article, you can find it right here. It isn't necessary reading because I'm going to kind of recap the essentials, but if you're also the kind of person who likes political science and activism, you really should check it out. The long and short of it is that the spectrum of allies is a tool made by George Lakey, a moderately-famous, nonviolent social activist involved in the civil rights movement, anti-Vietnam War activities, environmental activism, and a lot more. What's wild to me is that he seems to have been very active in Philadelphia (and Pennsylvania as a whole) but this was my first time hearing of him!

Putting that aside though, the spectrum of allies is meant to be a way for activists in a cause to determine which communities would be most helpful, or least helpful, to focus their efforts on for things like campaigning, outreach, etc. The intent is to win allies step-by-step, converting passive supporters into active ones and neutral outsiders into passive supporters. The diagram used to map these groups and assess their support levels looks like this:

An example diagram from the page at the Commons Library, drawn by Josh Kahn (unfortunately no idea who that is and the page doesn't give a link either).

 

Once you have a cause, you take the time to list and examine specific stakeholders in said cause, placing them into one of the five categories. The real use of the tool comes in knowing that the vast majority of people, for any given cause, fall somewhere in the middle of that graph, and even then, the majority of that majority are probably firmly "neutral". Not always because they are inherently neutral, but sometimes because they don't even know your cause exists and directly affects them! Once you know where a group generally falls though, you can work on specific actions to shift them up a notch. If they're passive supporters, maybe they just need help finding direct actions within their means; if they're neutral, maybe they need better info on why your cause matters.

 

Do you see where I'm going with this?

 

Where I'm Going With This  

While it's built to be used as a tool for political activism, this could also be really nifty for tracking the alliances/relationships of NPCs and factions to the players in a TTRPG campaign. In fact, it can be used as both a general and a specific tool. Generally as a way of tracking how certain factions/NPCs feel about the party, and more specifically by examining the actionable goals of a party and figuring out where certain factions/NPCs fall on the scale in relation to that goal.

General NPC Relationships

For general relationships between NPCs and the party, this functions a lot like other "NPC affinity" systems, but for me it has just the right amount of nuance, without getting too complicated or bogged down in details. You can easily place an NPC's relationship to the party somewhere on this scale-- like in real life, most will probably begin at "neutral", with exceptions for people or factions that are overtly against or aligned with players. 

An NPC's location on the scale helps determine things like how much help they might offer the party, what fraction of the resources they have that they'd also be willing to let the party use, or even their initial reaction in any social situation (basically taking on the function of a reaction roll). For example, an "active ally" NPC might freely share important information, loan the party supplies, let them stay for free in their inn, etc. On the other hand, a "passive ally" might offer these same services for a fee or in return for a favor, or might limit the amount of help they're willing to give (so maybe a free stay at their inn, but don't come back every night hoping to rely on their good will).

And of course, "passive opposition" and "active opposition" have roles to play, with active opposition being the party's enemies/rivals, and passive opposition functioning as allies to those same rivals.

General Faction Relationships 

Using the spectrum of allies to map general relationships also works with factions, though with less specificity. An "active ally" faction, probably a faction in which on of the PCs serves as a member, would be a good source of quests, rumors, supplies, and other benefits. On the other hand, neutral factions might be those who place quests on a job board, or approach the party because of their reputation. In this case, success in the quest might also come with the benefit of shifting the neutral faction's position to that of a passive ally. 

In a similar way to replacing the reaction rolls for NPCs, the location of a faction on the spectrum can also help track how specific members react to the party's presence (either by modifying the reaction roll, or negating it entirely in favor of the faction's views). Members of a faction in an active allyship with the party would likely extend a helping hand if the PCs ask for it, while a member of a faction in passive opposition would probably "ice out" the party in social situations, refusing any discussion beyond what's absolutely necessary. And suffice to say, a faction in active opposition means their members are going to treat the PCs as enemies, doing whatever they need to undermine them, up to and including violence.

If you want to get a little more complex with it, you can also think about where an NPC who doesn't recognize the party might fall on the spectrum of allies in a vacuum. A wealthy noble is a member of a "passive opposition" faction, but doesn't know that before talking to the party, letting them ask about important information; once the noble finds out though, that previously accessible source of info quickly becomes closed off. Similarly, if the party meets a rival thief during a heist, the relationship probably won't start off friendly (probably an "active opposition"); but once the heist is wrapped up, if the rival is a member of the same guild, they might be embarrassed by the mix-up and willing to help the party in their next job to make amends (being an "active ally").

Specific Goals

In most TTRPGs, but particularly in games with high levels of politicking, players usually have a specific cause or goal they're attempting to fulfill. Sometimes it's as simple as "clear the dungeon", sometimes as complex as "organize the region's power players into an alliance to fend off the machinations of a doomsday cult." Like the real-life use of the spectrum in organizing and raising support, using the spectrum of allies can be a way to sort factions and NPCs into categories built around their support of the player's goals.

For example, if the party's goal is to "clear the dungeon", their first active ally is probably whoever issued the quest (if anyone). They want the dungeon cleared, and they're willing to pay the party to make it happen. But a "passive ally" might be a merchant in the town near the dungeon, whose business has dried up as a result of whatever threat lurks inside. The merchant really needs the dungeon cleared, but money is tight and they can't afford to chip in their own reward, so instead they'll use what they can offer-- info about the dungeon and its local history, or staking their reputation to vouchsafe the party to other townsfolk. 

Importantly though, outside of the goal to "clear the dungeon", this merchant might not be much of an ally. If the party spent time turning the merchant into a true friend, they might offer a small discount. But if not, well, they need to make a living, and supplies way out here aren't cheap.

Turning the same example to a faction, rather than a specific NPC, perhaps the village has a taboo around disturbing the dungeon that the party is trying to clear, one held only by those entrenched in the old ways or adherents of the local religion. Villagers worried about tradition might be "passive opposition", refusing to do business with the party once they find out the PCs are making trips into the depths-- whoops, there goes your blacksmith! Hope you didn't need any armor repairs. Those faithful to the old ways, on the other hand, might take more of an "active opposition" role. This doesn't necessarily have to mean breaking out the pitchforks and torches (although it's a possibility!) It could mean gathering in the local tavern and hosting town halls, trying to persuade the "neutral" villagers (who don't care about the dungeon and just want to be safe) that disturbing whatever lives there is only going to make the situation worse.

Shifting Slices 

That final bit is, in my opinion, the strongest function of the spectrum of allies. By sorting NPCs and faction into these distinct categories, you can build actionable information about how they might move from one slice of the spectrum to another-- and what the party can do to make it happen.

In the case of the merchant from earlier, they start as a passive ally, but maybe they just need a way to become actionable that works within their needs. They already said they can't offer a reward... but if the party asks about spare supplies, or a small discount on wares, that might be something the merchant is willing to do. Now you've turned a source of passive support into a source of active support instead (and if you can win them over as a friend, maybe the discount carries on even after the dungeon is cleared).

Creating actions that help move groups back and forth across the spectrum is particularly helpful for tracking factions in campaigns with a lot of politicking, especially if paired with discrete goals. A faction that serves as an active ally for one goal might be more neutral on another, while another faction who gives only passive support during one course of action is adamantly against another, turning them into a passive opposition more willing to help the party's rivals. Of course, the eventual goal is likely to build widespread support for the party's overarching goal of the campaign, whatever that might be, turning all of the factions into "active support"-- or at the very least shifting them from being neutral into something more like passive allies. And having the party take a course of action that a faction agrees/disagrees with might risk pushing them closer or farther from actively supporting the party when it's time.

City '26, Week 4: Harborside – Specialty Shops/Services

 So here we are, just over a month on front the start of City 26, and I'm managing to keep pace pretty well. Except for this past weekend (I decided I deserved a short break) I've managed to do one entry every single day. It's not much just yet, but it does mean I've got 31 pieces of Port Callus written up and ready to play. Nearly a complete district! 

But even though I love what I've done and I'm excited to share it anywhere, I'm sticking to my promise to only make a post about it when I actually finish a good chunk. So the only thing I've got finished versus last week is some specialty shops and services you'd find around the Harborside district.

The famous Mercado do Bolhão (surprisingly empty in this picture, because it's usually PACKED).

1d4 Specialty Shops & Services (Harborside)

1.  Sig, the Mass Market Trader: Specialized "everything" merchant with a vast network of trade connections, willing to buy and sell all stock. Although they'll buy anything, there's no guarantee they'll give a good price for it. Similarly, while Sig sells "everything", what they actually have in stock depends on what's recently found its way into their shop. Newly-arrived stock only sticks around until Sig finds a willing buyer, 2d4 days at most. Build trust, and you might be lucky enough for Sig to reach out when they find something you'd be interested in. And if you're hoping for something off-the-books, Sig is willing to help their friends make a connection (for a fee) but won't participate any farther in the business, meaning there are none of their usual guarantees of quality. 
2. Red Spice Stalls: Trader stalls found throughout Harborside, usually close to the river but out of the way of main thoroughfares. Red Spice stalls look and function identically to others, offering legitimate goods, but also act as on-the-go black markets. Usually this means contraband deemed illegal by the City Court or banned by the Freemen's Guild, but sometimes they just offer substances tightly controlled by specific guilds– like medicine sold only by the Apothecarium, the city's consortium of medicinal suppliers. In many ways, dealing in these controlled goods can be riskier than selling anything outright illegal, and comes with a steep price tag. Most Red Spice stalls work out of carts or wagons, so that they can pack up and move when necessary, and better avoid complaints by locals who don't appreciate the proprietors using their residential streets.
3. Water Merchants: The large number of sailing ships that move in and out of the harbor require a constant supply of freshwater for their voyages. In olden days, crews collected water from natural springs along the hillsides, or ventured further up the Goldrock to fill their vessels there. But with the city's advancing urbanization, the old springs have either run dry or been set aside for citizen-use only, while ships can no longer pass the marker line of the Freedom Flag and the river near the harbor has become too polluted. Enter the water merchants, an informal collection of traders who specialize in bringing large hauls of fresh water down from the mountain range in the west. Although general suppliers can also provide water, because their water is sourced from higher altitudes, water merchants guarantee both cleanliness and taste. This has made them the preference for wealthier ship captains, or those planning for long-haul trips across deep water. And although there is no water merchant guild yet, several of the most prominent merchants have begun to organize their efforts, splitting costs and profits between themselves to better compete against the general suppliers.
4. Tattoo Studios: Where sailors abound, you can always find someone with the needles necessary for putting ink to skin, and this holds as true in Port Callus as anywhere else. Outside of Harborside however, the number of available artists drops significantly. Although Port Callus is independent, the surrounding cultures influence the city's own, and tattoos have struggled to find widespread adoption-- perhaps in part because of their association in these surrounding countries with foreign travelers. Tattoos are more common among those living in the poorer, northern district of Terra Velha, but only slightly. On the other hand, several of the largest merchant guilds in the city require members to bear a tattoo of the guild's mark. Originally intended as proof of membership for a class of people who travel extensively, better record-keeping and the minting of special badges makes the practice obsolete, but one still maintained for reasons of tradition.

History, Just For Fun 

Like everything else I'm making for Port Callus, the shops here are inspired by things I've seen walking around my new home of Porto, as well as things I've read about it. Since I'm designing a city inspired by Porto, I figured boning up on local history would be both helpful and entertaining, and I was right. Like a lot of older cities, Porto used to house a lot of thriving markets, many of them specialized-- like the Feira do Pão, a bread market that used to be just around the corner from where we stayed after first moving; and the Mercado do Peixe, which, as you might imagine, was a fish market.

It's hidden behind the stall, but the last building on the row on the left is actually a Taco Bell now.

Unfortunately, a growing population, increased economic pressures, and stricter city government meant a slow decline for the old markets. As Porto grew, City Hall wanted the markets moved away from the nicer parts of the city that they'd helped make so economically successful. But while that was a problem, the real death-knell for most of the small specialty markets were the rise of larger, all-in-one markets. Usually large buildings designed to house lots of smaller stalls, this is where the city's government consolidated the smaller markets they kicked off the streets. Of course, in a turn of irony, so many of these markets would eventually be rendered obsolete by large malls and box stores.

This isn't to say that Porto has no markets though! On the contrary, there are about a half-dozen large-scale markets like the Mercado do Bolhão and Mercado Beira-Rio, where you can buy fresh fruits, vegetables, fish, wine, and everything else. And there are dozens of small-scale, open-air markets scattered around the city (usually referred to as feiras, from what I can tell). So while markets not be as common as they were in the heydays of the mid-1800s, there are still a lot of them in the city, especially the older portions (and so a lot of inspiration to be had by walking around them).

How to Generate (Better) Random Books

In the most recent session of a weekly 5e campaign I run, set in Magic: the Gathering's Greek mythology-inspired plane of Theros, my players began a delve into a massive library in an underground city on the border between the Mortal Plane and the Underworld. This wasn't unexpected, since the story had been leading them there for a few sessions, and I'd planned the dungeon by writing out the rooms, stocking it, and even making a proper battle map. 

Because it's a giant library, I also made sure to include some treasure in the form of specific books, ones that were either monetarily valuable or ones that I knew had roleplay/backstory value to specific characters. To be clear though, I wasn't really looking forward to this process. That's because there are usually three major methods of creating books-as-treasure:

1. Take an existing book, usually something well known like To Kill a Mockingbird, and slap a coat of fantasy paint on the cover (usually including a funny referential title like To Kill a Manticore, although that's not technically required).
2. Using your knowledge of the setting and/or your PCs backstories, design a book, including its appearance, title, and a brief description of the contents and why they'll matter to your players.
3. Find one of the hundreds of online Fantasy Book Generators™ and roll on it, adjusting the results as necessary to achieve the flavor best suited to your game.

Using mostly the first and second method, I made about a dozen specific books. But I tried my best to shunt off some of the effort with a few classic GM tricks-- adding shelves of poorly maintained books made ruined and worthless because of damage, books that lack interest because they look cheap but are in languages not known by the PCs, and using weight to limit how many books the party could run off with.

Did It Work? 

Well, it definitely helped limit the amount of legwork I had to do, but it also means that in a library of hundreds of scrolls, books, clay tablets, and other informative material, there are only 12 books of actual note. The others worth taking are best described with the line "it seems like it could be valuable, but you'll have get it appraised to know more." This is exacerbated by another issue, which is that my players go absolutely ga-ga for books, and will definitely search every shelf they see. Together this means that the more time my party spends in the library-dungeon, the more the game loses verisimilitude to an absurdly large number of books without any apparent content.

When we start our next session and resume searching piles of books, I'm going to need something fast and punchy for developing fun and interesting books on the fly. That seems like a perfect use case for Method #3, using a random book generator, but the issue is that there are so. many. bad generators for fantasy books. A secondary issue is that almost every single generator assumes a generic high fantasy setting, or stocks itself with waaaaay too many examples of punny books made using Method #1. I don't want my fiftieth copy of "an orange book bound with red thread, titled Brotherhood of the Necklace", especially in a setting inspired by ancient Greece. What I want is "a book describing the historic effects of necromancy on the work force of the Meletian Peninsula". Now that's something that's gonna grab a player's attention, but it's also something you're effectively never going to have to explain in more detail. Unfortunately, generators like that either don't exist, are very rare, or too setting non-specific to really be what I want.

So that's the problem I found myself with, and after days spent mulling over the idea of how to make interesting, setting-specific books on the fly, I realized there's already a fully-built, highly-detailed, numbered table full of specific types of books. We already use it every day in real libraries all around the world! I'm talking about none other than the Dewey Decimal System.

Now THESE are the kinds of books I'm looking to generate.

What is the Dewey Decimal System? 

In case you're unfamiliar, or you learned it once and then forgot (I wouldn't blame you) the DDC (or Dewey Decimal Classification, if you're formal and long-winded) splits all books into three sets of 10 divisions, each one more specific than the last. It maybe sounds more complicated than it is, but basically, it sorts every book into a category using three numbers, and the numbers tell you what the book is about.So for example, a book in section 661 is Technology [6**] --> Chemical Engineering [66*] --> Industrial Chemicals [661]. And I didn't choose that topic, by the way! I determined it randomly, by rolling 3d10.

Whenever you need to make up a book on the fly, you don't have to dig around for a random generator and you don't have to try and shift bits and pieces of the result to better fit whatever setting you're using. Instead, just pull up the Dewey Decimal list, roll 3d10, and make up a generic idea that fits both the topic and the setting. When you roll the dice, you can either roll 3d10 in order and use those to find the topic (so 3-4-3 in order gives you Military, Tax, Trade, and Industrial Law) or you roll all at once then mix-and-match the numbers for extra flexibility (so you could take 343, 334, or 433).

When you roll, you can use the Wikipedia page for "List of Dewey Decimal Classes" (the one I linked above) or you can use this page at the Institute for Social and Economic Change (which is apparently a research institute in Bangalore, India). Personally, I prefer the latter because it's already split up into three sections for you, each with their own little table of results.

 

Look at this beautiful table. It's like it was made to be referenced by nerds rolling dice! 

And look, I'm not going to argue this is faster than a random book generator, because it obviously isn't. But in some ways, it is easier. I find that random generators tend to produce results with titles that are groan-worthy puns, rely on elements outside of my setting (no elves in my campaign without elves thank you), or sound much more grandiose than a bit of random treasure (good luck getting your party to sell a book called Fey Secrets: Revelations of the Cracked Mirror.) They also almost universally focus on very fantasy-esque genres like myths and arcane lore, totally neglecting some of the truly fascinating or nitty-gritty genres like travelogues and geometry. It's also way more fun to quickly toss together a book that fits your setting, and see where it leads you. 

 But Are You Sure It Works?

To act as an example, I'm going to really quickly roll 3d10 and make a book about the topic. Like seriously quick-- roll, look it up, and 30 seconds or less on the concept. Probably faster than I would even take in an actual game, where my players would also be asking questions and (unknowingly) helping me expand the concept. I'd say you could time me, but obviously I already did all of this in the course of writing the blog post, so just pretend it's happening concurrently with your reading. Okay? Okay. Ready? Let's go.

Alright, 3d10 gives me 275 (in that order) which points us at Religion: History of Christianity, and History of Christianity in Asia specifically. In Theros, Heliod is the ruler of the gods, a Zeus expy associated with the sun and light, making him a good christian-type deity replacement. There isn't an Asia, but there is Setessa, the easternmost section of Theros and a place where most people primarily worship Nylea and Karametra, the God of the Hunt and God of Harvests, respectively. So this book is about the history of Heliod's worship in Setessa, its spread and the struggle to maintain prominence against the worship of Nylea instead. Quick title idea is History of Heliod's Temples: Worship in Setessa. 

It isn't complicated or original, but that's also kinda the point. It also gave me a jumping off point for drawing the players in, asking questions about the history of Setessa and the nature of divine worship. Thinking about it a little farther, it also sets up a potential series of books all about Heliod, with each volume focused on a specific region.

Final Notes 

As you can see, if you end up with a topic that is more real-world specific, like French Literature or Newspapers in Italy, just quickly sub it out with a piece of your own setting, just off the top of your head, and sort out the particulars later. There's a good chance you won't even need to, since its unlikely someone is going to take the copy of a Waterdhavian newspaper from three decades ago that you just rolled up. 

If you still prefer using a random generator for your books, I won't blame you. Like you, I also play TTRPGs, which means I love a good d100 table or a well-built generator. My problem isn't using the generators, but trying to find one that works at the moment I need it. I don't want to stock every shelf in my library-dungeon ahead of time, but I also don't want to answer every Investigation roll of 15 or above that my players make with "Riddles of the Sphinx, a scroll of enigmatic riddles that grant esoteric knowledge if solved" (okay, that last one fucks actually, but I promise you I've rolled like eighteen times on this same generator for this post without that level of success so you get my point). I also don't want more than two or three refrains of "you find [d6] books in good condition, on topics ranging from geometry to poetry, probably worth a few hundred gold pieces all together."

I will also acknowledge that generating a random book this way means you miss out on descriptions of the cover, the page type, paper quality, color of the edges, and all that fancy bullshit but I promise you-- you will not need it. Think back to the last time you generated a random book your players picked up. Did you actually give a description of the exterior? And if you did, how glazed were their eyes when you described the method of stitching used on the spine? When it comes to descriptions, sometimes less is more, and unless the book you're putting into the character's hands really does stand out for some reason, the player's minds will come up with a good, old-looking book for you.

I'm going to be testing this concept firsthand on Sunday during my weekly game, so I'll know soon whether it can actually withstand the fires of adversity. But I'm definitely more excited to try this than to keep digging through page after page of Google results for book generators, and that counts for a lot.