1890's Gothic Earth Lovecraft Variant by Bolt Thrower Press Powered By Ken St Andre's RPG Mechanics for MM

 

By Gaslight and Tentacle: Imagining a 1890s Gothic Earth Lovecraft Variant Powered by Ken St. Andre's RPG Mechanics for Monters Monsters.

The Lovecraft Variant For Monsters! Monsters! From Bolt Thrower Press found here (Click Here)

The scent of coal smoke hangs heavy in the fog-choked air. Gas lamps flicker, casting long, dancing shadows down cobbled streets. In grand, decaying mansions, secrets fester behind locked doors, and the whispers of forgotten lore echo in dusty libraries. This is the 1890s Gothic Earth, a world teetering on the edge of scientific progress while still clinging to age-old superstitions. But what if the shadows held more than just earthly horrors? What if the creeping dread came not from vengeful spirits, but from the cold, uncaring void between the stars?

I've been musing on a game concept that blends the evocative atmosphere of the late Victorian era with the cosmic terror of H.P. Lovecraft, all driven by the wonderfully accessible and often brutally unforgiving mechanics reminiscent of Ken St. Andre's classic RPG designs. Imagine a game where the elegance and societal constraints of the 1890s clash violently with the sanity-shattering revelations of an uncaring universe, all resolved with a roll of the dice in a system that feels both intuitive and perilous.

Setting the Stage: Gothic Grandeur Meets Cosmic Dread

The beauty and the bleakness of the 1890s provide a rich tapestry for Lovecraftian horror. The stark class divisions, the burgeoning industrial revolution juxtaposed with deep-seated spiritualism, the architectural grandeur hiding untold secrets – it's a period ripe with inherent tension. Now, layer upon this the creeping tendrils of cosmic entities and forbidden knowledge.

Forget your standard ghosts and ghouls. In this variant, the true horrors are ancient, alien, and utterly beyond human comprehension. Cults whisper the names of forgotten gods in dimly lit back rooms. Cyclopean ruins lie hidden beneath the veneer of civilization, hinting at non-human histories stretching back eons. The mysteries aren't solved with logic and reason alone; they demand a confrontation with realities that can shatter the very foundations of the human mind.

Think of it: a séance gone horribly wrong doesn't just summon a spirit; it opens a temporary rift to a dimension teeming with unimaginable life. A strange astronomical phenomenon isn't a new comet; it's the harbinger of an approaching cosmic entity. The eerie silence from the abandoned asylum isn't due to neglect; it's the aftermath of an experiment that delved too deep into the nature of consciousness itself.

The Engine of Madness: Ken St. Andre's Spirit

To power this descent into cosmic dread, I envision a system echoing the design principles of Ken St. Andre, the brilliant mind behind Tunnels & Trolls. His games often prioritize:

• Simplicity and Accessibility: Rules that are easy to grasp, allowing players to jump into the thick of the mystery without getting bogged down in complex mechanics.
• Attribute-Driven Characters: Core attributes that define a character's capabilities, likely tailored to the era (perhaps Strength, Dexterity, Intellect, Perception, Social Standing, and crucially, Sanity).
• The Crucial Saving Roll: When faced with physical danger, mental trauma, or the sheer alienness of the cosmos, characters would rely on saving rolls. Failure would carry significant and immediate consequences, emphasizing the perilous nature of their investigations.
• Direct and Decisive Conflict: Combat and other challenges resolved with straightforward rolls, perhaps adding relevant attributes. Luck, as is often the case in St. Andre's games, could play a wild card role.
• A Touch of Lethality: Characters wouldn't be invincible. The horrors they face are ancient and powerful, and a single misstep could lead to injury, madness, or even a swift, brutal end. This encourages cautious play and a healthy respect for the unknown.
• Solo Adventuring Potential: While group play would be fantastic, the core mechanics should ideally lend themselves to solo exploration of these terrifying mysteries, allowing players to delve into the darkness at their own pace.

Imagining Gameplay

Picture a group of investigators – a skeptical doctor, a determined journalist, a learned antiquarian, perhaps even a reformed occultist – drawn together by a series of unsettling events. Their investigations might lead them down fog-laden alleyways, into the opulent but decaying homes of eccentric aristocrats, or even to forgotten rural villages where ancient rituals are still practiced in secret.

Success wouldn't just be about defeating monsters (though those encounters would undoubtedly be terrifying). It would be about piecing together fragmented clues, deciphering cryptic texts, and managing the slow erosion of their characters' sanity as they confront the unthinkable. The mechanics would need to support this investigative process, with rolls to notice details, recall knowledge, and resist the psychological onslaught of the cosmic horrors they uncover.

Combat, when it inevitably occurs, would be brutal and likely uneven. Facing a creature from beyond the stars with a revolver or a cane would highlight the sheer vulnerability of humanity. The focus would be on survival and perhaps finding a way to banish or contain the threat, rather than outright destruction.

The Allure of the Blend

The beauty of this concept lies in the unique tension created by the juxtaposition of the refined, structured world of the 1890s and the chaotic, mind-bending reality of Lovecraftian horror, all powered by a system that is both accessible and carries a genuine sense of danger. It's a game where the elegance of a Victorian parlor can be shattered by the glimpse of an alien geometry, and where the simple roll of a die can determine whether your investigator succumbs to madness or lives to face another night haunted by cosmic nightmares.

This is just a glimpse into a game idea that has taken root in my imagination. The possibilities are vast and unsettling. What do you think? Would you dare to step into this world of gaslight and tentacle?