AKA: How I Use The Crows
Spoilers ahead:
I’m running the illustrious Deep Carbon Observatory again for some friends via the internet. At the behest of one of them, I’m writing this blog post to elaborate on how I use some of the NPCs in the adventure.
Spoilers ahead. This is your second heads up.
I have, several times now, terrorized my players with The Crows. The provided rival adventurers are fantastic, and I’ve only ever had to modify them by adding to their number when running an obscenely large table. This is no exaggeration: The Crows are not a regular threat, and the usual reaction to them is overwhelming fear and confusion. But how, and why? And why is this executed so well?
It has to do with telegraphing danger. Something Patrick Stuart executes with aplomb. Not just with the crows, but also with The Giant as well. I do think there is some more work to be done and inferred by the game master with both. I think both playing and also running DCO is one of the final feats of game mastery. Knowing when to break and when to keep to the written adventure is its own skill, but that’s another subject for another day.
Early on, We don’t have The Crows attack the players, but rather an NPC thief stealing from another NPC. This happens in the first “Act” of the adventure, and is an important moment. So long as your players are helping and trying to help during the adventure, they should see this. Because the attack only happens if they intercede: Ghar snipes the thief if the party interacts. At first glance this may feel like you are punishing the players by murdering an NPC for their good deed, but nothing is further from the truth: you are telegraphing real danger and lethality to them for their heroic behavior.
It is the exact same with Sorla Ghyll and The Giant: Those who respect the dead seer will know of the horrors that await them, those who don’t will know nothing. Yes there are giant cuttlefish in the mausoleum. Yes that is a danger and a potential tax on their HP. I do recommend reading to them the giant description out loud at her grave, and read especially out loud the phrase “If you don’t kill at least one PC with this monster you’re doing it wrong” (paraphrased).
It is the exact same with the witch. It is the exact same with the golems. It is the exact same for the first (dam) dungeon. All danger is telegraphed. This is why the lethality of DCO feels fair. It’s why I spoke twice about spoilers: you’ve had fair warning.
A lot of people complain about the OSR or NuSR or whatever-we’re-calling-ourselves these-days as too lethal. I think this is a fault of either poor writing in the adventurers with instant death not appropriately telegraphed, or potentially players not picking up on the clues. A lot of chaos gremlin types wanna fuck around but cry when it’s time to find out. You shouldn’t just be vaporized for touching a random statue. But maybe you shouldn’t be surprised if you’re vaporized for licking a statue of an evil frog-demon the cleric gets bad vibes from?
In addition, modern D&D character creation takes so long and is enough of a strategic sub-game that it disincentivizes character death. It simply takes too damned long to make a character at level one, and there’s too many options and too much tactical or mechanical acumen required to make a character. So much so that some players view character building as their favorite part of the game, like a deck-building card game. And that’s fine, I do believe there is no wrong way to play, but for the majority of players, other aspects of the game are “The Fun Part.” And I feel that way as a heavy 3.5 player, where templates and weird-builds roamed free like dinosaurs at a theme-park. Taking an hour break minimum due to character death isn’t fun, especially when your friends are looting your character’s corpse or holding their funeral, you wanna be present for that.
Combine those two parts, a lack of telegraphing/picking up of clues and a ton of work, and you can see why death saves and spare the dying and stabilize and negative hitpoints etc etc ad Infinitum.
Telegraphing danger isn’t that hard: murder an NPC, a torchbearer, the party’s pet goblin (if you’re allowing that kinda thing). Prophetic messages, graffiti, weird local legends, any of these things work to let the players know this monster is Serious Business Trademark Copyright All Rights Reserved. This is literally rule number one of my gaming style: root for your players, and be on their side. They are the Heroes of the world you’re making together. That being said, you’re the referee- you have to be fair. A neutral arbiter of the rules, as much as you can be.
So now that we have telegraphed our danger, how do we handle using our lethal opponents?
We give no quarter and show no mercy. We grow strong from player tears and we stand atop ruined character sheets like a mountain we’ve carved with our own hands. Rule number two of my style is simple:
In order for the gold and the glory to be real the danger has to be real.
The Crows are a rival group of adventurers. When has a party of adventurers ever shows kindness or mercy to enemies? Especially human enemies? Very rarely, I would wager. Their tactical acumen and precision should be that of a high functioning party of PCs. They do know what player characters would know: the one in the robes is a mage. The one with the religious iconography is the priest, and the one in armor is the fighter. Everyone else is likely a thief and they’re all greedy bastards (no matter the class). They do not split the party. They sleep in watches (if they sleep). They discuss plans ahead of time and know that wizards lose spells if they don’t get a decent rest. They harass and harry. It’s probing for weaknesses in hit-and-run tactics. These are skirmisher guerillas. Use them that way. They will not seek a fair fight, they know better. These are not noble warriors: these are serial killers.
Most of this is outlined in the book as to what they know and what they do. They have a whole list of tactics and tricks to use. Many of which are excellent. Choose from them. Use your favorites. Make your party adapt.
Ghar is a sniper, have him snipe. The best bet is to have him fire from a distance one or two shots during an initial probing attack by zombies during the party’s first rest in act 2. Use one of his poisons on one of the party members. You can roll randomly or you can choose if they’ve seen the party interact with The Eagles. My personal favorite is the Mirror one. It’s best for Knowledge. This is the key to using them. The one that’s anti-wizard is best reserved for a fight or direct confrontation, otherwise use the hallucinogen or corpse one.
Zoloushka is a glass cannon or a walking demigod (thanks, players, for choosing Shadowdark instead of OSE, all these extra spells are choice). She also is a metric of how awful things are. Every time a player kills a human, add it to her roster of zombies. Mostly she’s a tool-box. She’s there to read player’s minds and be a vector for the staff mostly. Should players be foolish, she has one spell for escape (unless your system lets you keep casting), and one to say “oh shit” as a self defense.
The zombies are chaff. And if a cleric is present and uses Turn Undead they will see it in the initial attack and remember that. The Crows know the adage of Shadowrun “Geek the Mage First” and then they hit the cleric, then the fighter, then thieves. Hirelings are like rats: aren’t a problem and will abandon sinking ships. They can reassess this motto and change tactics mid fight if things go wrong.
The Twins are a powerful duo, and should fight as such. Small unit tactics within small unit tactics.
Holloch is a front-line fighter, and is a duelist not a warrior: he and his sister will try to isolate someone for him to rush in and pick-off. Echo will work in tandem with her brother and sneak-attack and use poison on anyone he’s fighting. He will open with bolas to tangle/knock prone anyone before attacking them. If your system uses measurements and feet, he knows those numbers and takes action to stay out of ranged combat. She will use Kusarigama to tangle/disarm anyone he is fighting. It should be two on one. It should feel unfair. Real fights with multiple opponents vs a single defender are unfair.
Echo is a face-woman, manipulator, and strategist. She knows you don’t trust her, and that’s good. If your system allows it, you cannot make intuition checks against her. She has all those hidden knives on her, nobody can find all of them on a search check if she’s captured. She’ll approach the party, or a weak-looking member in private. The twins know of one treasure, it stands to reason know about another. They’ll promise to trade one for another if the party just lets them arrive first (the party should not do this). If your party is foolish enough to sleep without a watch twice, on the second time she will poison their food with the opium she has. The Crows will then murder the party without saves while they are drugged. Better to eliminate the threat than let it ride. Do not gamify this: no rolls to hit, no damage. They put hands over mouths and slide daggers under ribs, or take axes to foreheads.
If you have a huge party like my second time running this (during the pandemic, up to 13 rotating players with 8+ a session) you should consider using Mork Borg’s scumbirther website to make two more Crows. I think a heretic cleric and a nasty berserker type are a good idea. Even the odds of you need to. Treat these extra two as disposable, a heal packet and a cruise missile.
In act two is most likely the place to have their initial probing attack. Likely a wave of (double the party’s number in) zombies. Snipe one character with Ghar during this. Read the Crows entry out loud if the party survives. Telegraph the danger again. Make them aware. Remember they get no spells or HP from losing a rest.
Act two is also where I would use the tactics listed in the book. There are stellar places for many of them, and all of them are fantastic and terrifying. The one with zombie and the rope moving upstream is a favorite of mine. As is luring a big fuck-Off monster like one of the golems or the platypus to them. I like using the graveyard/mausoleum and the mill as ambush spots.
I really can’t stress enough how much you should read the timeline in the back of the book going forward, and keeping strict records of time from this point on. Acts two and four are likely the most prime places to encounter the crows at full strength. And many… complications arise as either the party or they make it to act 5 and the Observatory proper first. To say the least of other complications and major actors that have arisen this far in the adventure (pray your party has not been foolish). The Crows will not seek direct conflict with the party. If the party sets up a trap, they will skip it and seek the Observatory or set up their own counter-trap. The only bait that would work is if Echo is captured by the party, as Holloch is loyal to her alone, as she him.
If The Crows either hit the Observatory first or make it in shortly after the party, their goal will be to hunt the treasure first. They flee from the Giant. They also do not know about it but have level heads on their shoulders. Either scenario is bad for the party, unless The Crows have been weakened or it’s been long enough that their numbers have dwindled in accordance with the timeline. Echo and Holloch both have those damned cursed items that let them see in the dark, but put them on a timer. It’s how they are gonna get what they’re after. They still have to kill at least one person. Your party has extra. They can see in the dark, have them attack light sources first.
If things have gone right, or wrong, this is the time that they’ll confront the party. Maybe they meet in the same room. Maybe they take different paths. If you have this adventure, you know what The Crows want. You can read the adventure and see what happens if they get it. If your players aren’t terrified out of their minds, this will be the time to strike. Encourage them, gently, but be real. Be on their side, for whatever they choose.
This is all a longwinded way to say that NPCs should have approximate knowledge to their role in the world: goblins don’t know shit, gongfarmers only know shit, tavern keepers know a rumor or two, and rival adventurers know how to play D&D as expert tacticians.
The Crows are a damned fine example of this. And they aren’t without weaknesses: they have no cleric. They must rest and eat food. Ghar can’t swim in deep water or move quickly. Zoulushka is disloyal and broken mentally from shame and addiction. The Twins are only truly loyal to Each Other. One Turn Undead ruins the zombies. Most of their best magical items are cursed. Intrepid players may destroy their boats. They probably tie the boats together and let the zombies act as lookouts. The same tactics they use can be used against them, if you have the right bait. There are horrible things that want to eat them too, or claim the same treasure they are after.
Don’t be scared to be scary. When victory comes to your players, when they overcome the challenge before them, it will taste that much sweeter. A genuine victory earned against genuine foes is a better story to brag about than any player talking about their cool loot or their generous DM-approved extra powers. There is only one of you as referee, and typically more players. You will constantly be on the back foot and be out-gunned. It’s ok to remind the players that you can play this game too. So play it well, and give them a championship game worth remembering.
