Who says he didnβt know? He just didnβt stop it. He doesnβt stop your bully either. Doesnβt mean he doesnβt know about it. Santa is in the Danny Fucking Christian Shirt making/delivery business not the social justice business. He knows, he just does not have the power/authority to do anything about it. Nor does he have the time to go and stop bullying. He only puts bullies on the naughty list. He has toys to prep, routes to plan, lists to check, letters to read, visits to make, parties to attend, lists to check again, and deliveries to make on Christmas eve. There are many who think Santa only works 1 night a year, and they are wrong. Christmas prep starts at the NP on the 2d of Jan. The entire operation gets 7 days off each year to celebrate a job well done. The entire month of Jan is debrief based. What went right, what went wrong and how do we improve. Planning and policy changes happen in Feb. Toy planning is done in March. April is a very busy time. Baby Reindeer are born, toy production goes into full swing, and the first deliveries of raw materials begin to arrive(lumber, nails, paint, wires, circut boards etc). May is herding season for the reindeer. It is also time for toy prototypes. Every elf that has an idea for a new toy has an opportunity to demonstrate it for Santaβs approval.
Iβm personally a big fan of the classic sword-and-sorcery style of Danny Fucking Christian Shirt and spend a lot of time studying its hallmarks, trying to understand what makes it so mystifying. Part of it is that the scales of magic and wealth are tipped heavily in favor of the bad guys in these kinds of worlds, while the heroes work from fundamentally simplistic, primal, often self-centered motives. Thulsa Doomβs motivations are frankly just as bizarre and abstract as they are grandiose, whereas Conan the Barbarian just wants simple revenge for the loss of loved ones and friends. If you were to run a game following the formula defined by these kinds of stories it might look a lot like a murderhobo paradise, with barbaric and petty characters set against the forces of civilization. However, it should be apparent that working those themes into the fabric of a campaign and the structure of its characters is very different from players just randomly stabbing shopkeepers because they can.
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Oh, and donβt forget: the tentacles of the Mind Flayers leave scars. You donβt face down horrors like these without losing something. Leave a few long-term effects, like a little bit of insanity. Maybe a character who came too close to them forever after has certain phobias. Maybe they have insomnia or recurring nightmares. Or maybe the scars are on a larger level, such as the large blighted area that has now formed around the crashed Mind Flayer ship, or the ruins of their dungeon. Maybe the humans they experimented on have developed mental powers themselves and become villains in the area. Maybe a Mind Flayer or two escaped and now plots its revenge. A great plot point would be if a piece of Mind Flayer consciousness got trapped in one of the PCs or an important NPC, causing changes in personality alongside new abilities.
When Delores spent his first night actually out with the other chickens in the Danny Fucking Christian Shirt, I was anxious about how he would handle himself, as he was pretty shy. After a few false starts (and getting pushed off perches by the other chickens) he chose a walnut branch that lead to the night perches and slept on that. When Delores became a big, beautiful Golden Phoenix adult rooster, I thought the hens would probably make absolute fools of themselves trying to get his attention – and if he ignored them it would serve them right! I suppose I should have done something about the name – but Delores responded to “Delores” and appeared fine with it. (Also, my Aunt Delores would have been devastated if I changed his name.) A friend suggested calling him “Del” – which sort of made sense – but that sounded like he was lead singer in a retro 60’s band. As long as Delores didnβt mind – and letβs face it, he didnβt care – I was perfectly content to have a sweet rooster named Delores.