Look What I Found! A Cantrip List

This was written up in more or less this format for a website a bunch of years ago.  Some of these spells are ones I created for GURPS in an article over thirty years ago.  Having stumbled across it, I decided to spruce it up and post it anew.  Now if anyone wants the actual GURPS stats as written up for my campaign, feel free to ask!

Chisandra’s Magic Tool: Summons one of the following tools: chisel, axe, crowbar, plane, adze, handaxe, pick, shovel, handsaw, crosscut saw, file, or awl. It is made of steel, and holds a perpetual edge. It will be sized for the caster, and cannot be made larger or smaller. For some reason, the craftsmen who revile the wizard Chisandra for inventing the “Strike Breaker” spell (see below) – as well as others who would use it – have no problem with this spell.  Local blacksmiths, however, have different opinions ...

Chisandra’s Strike Breaker: Named for a enchanter noblewoman whose new mansion was held up by a work stoppage, this causes a standard tool with no moving parts to work independently at the caster’s bidding.  It will only perform actions for which it is designed (for example, however much it’s technically possible, the spell won’t cause a hatchet to work as a screwdriver), as if it were wielded by a human of average strength, with approximately the skill at its task of a trained apprentice of the appropriate craft. To this day, the spell is resented by local craftsmen, and wizards known to employ it are prone to having their windows broken by thrown bricks, their front stoops smeared with excrement, and so on.

Coins of Change: A coin of the caster's choice (and held in his hand) disappears, to be replaced by the monetary equivalent in the next lower denomination. However, one coin of the lower denomination is missing (as a magical "tip," if you will); for instance, a dollar coin would be replaced by three quarters.  If the coin is not easily divisible into the next lower denomination (quarters into dimes, for instance), it is rendered in the denomination below that. The new coins will be of the proper bullion, weight and minting, indistinguishable from other such coins were it not for the newness and lack of wear.  If the spell is cast on a coin of the lowest common denomination, it disappears ... to be replaced by something peculiar and/or worthless.

Denys’ Menacing Orbs: Creates a fistful of “standard” fiberglass marbles that appear in the caster’s hand ... whether or not fiberglass is a substance that exists in the gameworld.

Elaina’s Excellent Teapot: A silvery-violet teapot will appear (and float) in midair. The caster may put any kind of tea and sweetener inside the pot; it requires no water or strainer. The pot will brew away, producing 1 quart, appropriately sweetened. If no tea is placed into the pot, it will brew a basic pekoe. The pot will pour itself, at the caster's command, and vanish either at the caster’s command or when there is no tea left in the pot. Variants exist for cocoa and other hot drinks.

Elaina’s Ball of Fun: Created by the ice wizard Elaina Waflo more as a means to have a handy fistful of snow whenever she wanted one, this places a normal, if large and well packed, snowball in the caster’s hand. The snow itself is permanent, but will melt normally.

Flower Power: Any sort of flowers with which the caster is familiar can be created in a full bouquet. They will be in full bloom. Any part of the bouquet that is disassembled – for instance, processing for herbal or alchemical use – vanishes at once.  The bouquet will last for as long as a mundane cut bunch of fresh flowers would.

Hero Pointer: The most powerful character – in terms of levels, character points, etc. – in the caster’s line of sight is outlined with a visible ruddy glow. The caster can exclude certain people or types of people from the spell’s calculation, and/or make the effect visible to him or her only.

Iamedon’s Keener Edged Armament: Sharpens an edged weapon, tool or implement to have as fine an edge as the object can normally hold; the edge lasts as long as normal use provides.

Kinto’s Beneficial Breathing: The subject's nostrils, ears and mouth become impermeable to water. Normal air breathing is not impeded, but no oxygen is extracted from "breathing" in water – the spell will only keep the subject from drowning.

Lengchi’s Bane: This spell combines ingredients into a blended whole. The ingredients must be normally able to be mixed by hand and be placed in a container, which will be filled by the resulting mixture. The combination takes place in one second. Lengchi was an infamous alchemical researcher working through the periodic table, and who discovered – a bit too late – that alchemically refining a large quantity of pure sodium and combining it with water (to “see what happened”) was not all that sensible an idea.

“Limpy’s” Third Conjuration: Causes an inanimate object to bend in the middle. Regardless of its natural qualities - brittleness, for example - it will bend and not break. If the object makes its appropriate resistance roll, it is slightly warped in some way. Created by the pompous Master Limsenien of the Viridistani College of Mages, it acquired its byname from the put-upon professional apprentice corps of the city – who claimed, inaccurately, that the wizard used this to blight the manhoods of his enemies – and “Limpy” was what the wizard was called behind his back thereafter, so much so that he dropped plans to publish his Fourth and Fifth Conjurations.

Malabar’s Miraculous Assay: The caster can determine the material components of any liquid or solid compound by chemical name, along with the proportion of the components in the compound, within the limits of general chemical knowledge of the caster’s tech level.  However, the caster does not necessarily know the individual properties of the components, nor will he learn what the compound does, absent scholarly knowledge of chemistry or alchemy.

Mirith’s Restful Soak: Creates a magical hot tub, which will materialize on the ground if the terrain is even and there are no intervening objects. It will comfortably seat two people. The temperature may be set between 95 and 120 degrees F, with any desired degree of turbulence. The spell was researched and invented at the request of the then-Emperor of Vinaria, a frequent adventurer who in his later years suffered from arthritis.

Morgil’s Clouded Gaze: The eyes of the subject adjust to any light brighter than normally comfortable, overtoning everything he sees in sepia tones. The spell will not function against light-based magical attacks. Prince Morgil Ravenswing of Gwenethlin was a renowned campaigner, but overly light sensitive, and richly rewarded the (unknown) wizard who invented this spell.

Phoenix’s Fountain of Glory: A fizzing jet flies straight up from the caster’s finger. When it reaches an altitude of 400', it bursts into a brilliant flare of colored light and descends at a rate of 10'/second thereafter. While the flare’s illumination is dim at best, it is visible for miles at night. The spell does no damage, may not be targeted, and will not fire in any direction but straight up. “Phoenix” was the errantry-name of the starlight wizard Sairin Wenairin, who is said to have invented it in the time he campaigned with the Kalínalumbë Regiment.

Puff of Breath: The target feels a light puff of breath; it will blow out candles, and be noticeable, but not much else.

Ratri’s Blessed Shield: Cast on a female, this prevents fertilization of eggs. If cast on a female pregnant within the last week, induces spontaneous abortion. If cast on a male his sperm becomes non-viable. Taught by the priestesses of Ratri, although its use is canonically discouraged.

“Show Business”: Creates any minor special effect that the caster can imagine, suitable for use as a prop for a stage show. Among the possible effects are minor sound effects, flashing lights, mini-fireworks, loud spectral applause, background Muzak, small puffs of smoke or thin fog ... but in any event, it will turn out on the cheesy side. The special effects created with this spell are not powerful enough to distract or fool a determined foe. Several wizards have been accused of inventing the spell in the 33 years it has been known; all hotly deny doing so.

Spider’s Veil: A fine rain of gossamer web floats down. While it is easily visible, it neither impedes vision nor movement.

Verella’s Toy: A small item becomes a recording device, recording any sound generated (or permeating) within 30' of its location. The sound pickup and quality is equivalent to that of a modern-day boom mike and tape player. To activate the Toy, the caster must speak a command word chosen at the time of casting. A second command word stops the recording. A third command word allows the Toy to play back any sounds it has captured. The object will only provide between six and twelve playbacks. Created for Princess Verella Waflo of Vinaria, who as a small child loved the music of the nomadic Waertagi tribe and wanted to hear it still in her quiet home, hundreds of miles from the Waertagi steppe country.

Stupid PC Tricks: Religion

This has probably never happened in your game.

Forum D00d: There are no gods in the real world to correct worshipers on theological matters.  At least not ones that talk to their worshipers on a regular basis and can be reached for answers with a spell.  One of the best examples of how a god would act is in the Old Testament. Look at how jealous and wrathful Jehovah is, smiting people left and right for not worshiping him correctly or just because he feels like sometimes. There couldn't be various different factions of Lathander fighting, because he would smite all the ones that were wrong.

Another common shibboleth of gamers is this one: that there's One True Religion, everyone's in lockstep, there are no doctrinal differences, and God's in everyone's grille, all the time.

The answer above is certainly the answer many gamers give, when asked why there isn't an Orthodox Church of Rinanni and a Reformed Church of Rinanni and the Ride On Queen Rinanni Altanian Full Gospel Ministry of Love and Blowjobs.

And for those game settings where the Gods are in the ears of every priest, every day, to make sure they don't use bananas in the sacred feast instead of canonical mangoes, or that the vestments are made of linen not cotton, and that all matters of parish governance stem from parish councils instead of central bishoprics, fair enough.

Is your game setting one of those?  Mine isn't.  I've seen very few that were.  Seriously, how many of you have ever played a religiously-oriented character where the deity speaks in your ear, "You're doing it wrong" ...?  Even if you discount that real world religious adherents also claim that their god/s are real, and also claim divine revelation as the backing for their POVs, how many GMs actually smite players for alignment/faith dissension, and how many players put up with the ones who do?  Especially in the D&D of latter days, when clerics can get powers from frigging philosophical concepts (because, you know, we can't actually expect gamers to handle doctrine or dogma), I'm thinking there's enormous scope for the niggling differences to which schismatics cling.

I mean seriously: take the Anglican Communion and the Roman Catholic Church.  For the great majority of the history of the two faiths, they disagreed on just three things: who was in charge, whether priests could get laid, and whether parishioners could get divorced.  Countless wars between Shia and Sunni Islamists have spilled countless blood, the chief difference between which has to do with who Mohammed's successor was, 1400 years ago.  A number of Christian sects have the exact same doctrine and practices, but differ only over issues of church governance, and are otherwise at daggers drawn, because of course the Methodists and the Presbyterians always have hated one another, world without end, amen.

(Take a small town I lived in for a few years.  Want to talk about religious wars?  The three leading churches were all Roman Catholic.  The buildings were all within a couple hundred yards of one another.  What did they all hate one another over, and how could there possibly be three separate Catholic parishes clustered together, in a village of no more than four thousand people?  Well, one was the Polish church, and one was the French church, and one was the catchall church for all the other ethnic groups.  That was all she wrote.  And toss in that the village had an Episcopal church, a Congregational church, a Baptist church, and a Unitarian church ... each and every one within five minutes walk of one another.  Heck, four of those churches were at the same intersection.  Yikes.)

I can easily see a case for even heavy interventionist settings where the Gods don't worry about the small stuff ... any more than they smite clerics for each little niggling transgression.  They turn their attention to Fighting Chaos or Thou Shalt Not Lie! or Kill All The Set worshippers and leave their bodies to rot! ... and can't be assed to worry about whether or not the creed of faith includes "And on this we stake our immortal souls," or on the acceptable degree of iconography in local parishes, or whether you wear a yellow versus a pink sash on the high holy day, or whether that high holy day is celebrated on the 5th of Girithim or on the first Waterday of Girithim.

Stupid PC Tricks

 Just by way of random silliness for the week, rather than one of the serious posts I’m halfway through writing, I bring you ... STUPID PC TRICKS.

No, this isn’t a list of idiotic things I’ve seen characters do.  (The majority of these were perpetrated by just one player, and I may post that one day.)  It’s a list of idiotic gaming shibboleths that just keep rolling along, decade after decade, without a lick of sense behind them.

* 10' foot poles: Seriously?  Alright, I have an experiment for you.  Just for the sake of argument, folks, go grab a 10' length of PVC tubing from your local hardware store.  Try walking around with it for an hour.  Now try walking with it indoors.  Now get a group of a half-dozen people to do the same.  Now hope that someone has a video camera handy, because you'd score a hundred thousand YouTube hits in a day with that comedy gold.  Whether it was Gygax or Arneson who was the one to think up the notion that one could carry one of these things underground I have no idea, but you have to wonder if either of them had ever held a 10' long piece of hardwood in their lives, never mind in confined quarters.

THAT is a 10' pole.  Go ahead.  Strap it to your back in a dungeon.  I dare you.

* Speaking of dungeons ... dungeon mapping.  Yeah, right.  So ... who’s going hands-free in the dungeon and balancing a writing desk, inkwell and quill, scribbling and blotching on a piece of skittering parchment in indifferent lighting conditions, where you can't readily erase or correct your mistakes.  How long does it take to set that stuff down and get out your weapons in a tussle, and how likely is it that nothing disturbs the desk?  Speaking of likely, I’ve another exercise for you.  Go outside to the nearest intersection.  Now draw that intersection on paper.  Now go back inside and compare your drawing to (say) Google Maps.  You were only off the mark by 5 degrees, say?  That’s pretty good!  Want to guess how many five-degree errors it will take to make your dungeon map completely screwed up?  Not very many.

* Giant packloads.  Third experiment of the day: take a backpack.  Stuff it as full of books as it will fit.  Hoist that on your back.  Do some exercises, jog some, move around.  Pretty heavy and unwieldy, isn’t it?  That packload you’re toting is only 25 lbs, about.  Seriously.  I agree that the military trains with 50 lb loads, but while that’s feasible for thirty soldiers going into a battle with a few minutes to prepare -- and oh, by the way, how they're fighting is NOT leaping about and swinging swords -- it just is not feasible for a small party that gets ambushed and needs to react in *seconds*.  (Never mind that low-tech camping gear is a good deal heavier than similar stuff is today.  Nylon vs canvas, plastic vs hardwood, titanium vs iron, rayon vs hemp, synthetics vs wool, concentrate vs ...)

Tidbits: Three Tips

Challenged on a forum to come up with our top three tips to newbies and grognards alike, this was my response:

 

My first rule is common to both groups:  We should all be in this to have fun.  This isn't a job, it isn't a chore, it isn't a war, and no one should be forcing you to do it.  If you're not having fun, something is wrong, and you need to address that.  If worst comes to worst, a popular catchphrase is "No gaming is better than bad gaming."

For newbies:

2)  Try new styles out.  There are so many systems, styles, milieus and genres out there.  Don't fall into the common trap of thinking that the Only Way You Can Play The Game is exactly like your first group does it; that's like sitting down at a poker game and getting mad that the rules aren't exactly like blackjack.

3)  Be someone interested in learning the rules of the system you play.  A lot of players don't, and they not only place a lot of burden on the GM, but they slow down play for their fellow players in constantly having to be prodded and reminded of things.  As with any other field of human endeavor, you get out of something what you put into it.

For experienced players:

2) Be true to (and aware of) yourself.  Play the games you like, not the ones you don't because you've been browbeaten into it.  Recognize the styles and milieus you can handle, how frequently you can play, how long you like sessions to be, how much digression and socializing you want.  Not knowing your own limitations ends in trouble.

3)  This is a cooperative exercise; tabletop, for the most part, is a consensus-driven game.  A player who designs a character wildly at odds with the others, a player who wants to freelance all the time, a player who doesn’t want to get on board with the milieu or the setting, these are pains in the ass for all around them.  There are RPGs out there for rugged individualists who don’t want to act in lockstep with others: we call them MMORPGs and LARPs.

Something Weird!

“Something weird heah!  Get yer weird things!”  I raised an eyebrow.  Street vendors rolled by the Woflo Inn about five hundred damn times a day, screeching like strangled gulls.  I've never cared for cities, and the ones in these human lands are really dire, and I got sick of the racket by the second day.  But it was midsummer, and closing the shutters would’ve choked us with the heat.  This was a new call on me, anyway.

Chav was on her feet and grabbing for her belt pouch like a shot.  “Where are YOU going?” I drawled.

“You GOTTA come see this, Eve!  This guy is great!” And with that, she was right out the door and pelting down the stairs.

“Something weird heah!  Get yer weird things riiiight heah!” 

No one knows his name ... he’s never said.  No one knows anything about him ... he won’t talk.  But every rare once in a while, once or twice a year, he’s pushing his cart down the cobblestones, barking out his sales pitch.

The man’s of average height, dusky complexion, raggedly cut dark brown hair.  His garb is dusty, worn, nondescript homespun, with a faded indigo wool vest.  He always seems to need a shave.  He bears no weapon.

But the tale’s not about him.  It’s about his cart.

It’s a simple pushcart, two handles, two wobbly wheels.  On it is a baffling array of packages, all wrapped up in faded, threadbare canvas and tied with coarse twine.  They are of all shapes, and of many sizes; no two are alike.  For just five silver pennies, you can have one item.

But only one.  On any given trip, he will never sell more than one item to one person.  He’ll hand you your item, and move on, sounding out his call once more.

And then it’s your turn: to figure out just what in the hell you’ve got.

✵   ✵   ✵   ✵   ✵   ✵   ✵   ✵   ✵

What the cart vends is offbeat items.  My own list runs several hundred deep, and are almost all modern-tech items, usually quite mundane.  Examples I’ve given out over the years include rolls of Scotch tape, a modern Alpine backpack, a car antenna, a Bic lighter, a box of plastic army men, a Brillo pad, a tube of Preparation H, a box of tampons, a TV tray, a space blanket, a penlight, a Slinky, an aluminum baseball bat, and a parking meter.

The trick is to identify it without any handles that would quickly reveal it: “You’ve got an odd wooden pole.  It’s about four feet long and an inch square.  It has strange runes on it, unrecognizable to you, painted on the shaft.  At one end is a flat paddle, about a foot long, and breaking off at a 45 degree angle.  The end of the pole is tipped with an odd black substance that’s sticky to the touch and slightly flexible; the paddle is wrapped in the middle with a thin layer of what appears to be the same substance.”  That’s an actual example, and it took the party that had it over a half-hour to figure it out.  (Feel free to put your own guesses in the comments.)

The vendor won’t sell you more than one, and no matter what it is it costs no more than five silver pennies.  He won’t give you any clue what anything is, and is blandly incurious.  He’s also laconic about damn near everything else too: “I get these from friends.” “Eh, selling them is a living.”  Ask too many questions, he’ll frown and move on.

If you try to follow him, he’ll disappear around the next corner and just plain vanish.  No one’s ever accosted or attacked him, and no one’s been insane enough to try to rob him.  (My parties, who are uniformly charmed when the fellow shows up, exert peer pressure on anyone who’s tried to so much as give him a hard time.)  I leave it up to GMs what happens if anyone tries, but I recommend lightning from the sky and the earth opening up to swallow offenders.

It is, of course, up to the players to decide what good the items are for, if anything.  Some, like a 20th century cowboy hat, are obvious.  Some, like a lava lamp or a toaster oven, sure as heck aren’t.

Sign Me Up, Sarge!

 So ... I’m going outside my old player base for new players for the first time in a good while.  And it strikes me that here’s the best spot to go into my style and philosophy as a GM, to give those interested a handle on what they can expect ...

* I run 4th edition GURPS, but with a significant “but!”  Effectively I run GURPS Lite; I’m not going to slow up play fishing for book modifiers each and every time someone uses a skill.  You’re climbing up that brick wall in dry weather using a knotted rope, lightly encumbered?  Alright, just give me a Climbing roll at -1.  You’re doing that with an 80-lb pack, without a rope, on a cliff face, in an ice storm?  Damn, it’s your neck, but if you’re really feeling suicidal, give me three.  (Code for roll 3d6.  The book mods for those, for what it’s worth, are -2 and -8, respectively.)  There are rules from earlier editions I use – the big ones are in missile rules and in the cost of attributes – and I’ve a handout of itemized houserules.

* I have a dense, gritty setting.  It’s a Renaissance tech fantasy world, very loosely based on Kenneth Bulmer’s Dray Prescot/Scorpio series.  It is now getting into the Gunpowder Age.  Realism is a hallmark of Celduin, and you won’t see magical streetlights, orcs carrying hundreds of gold pieces or flying cities.  “High” fantasy this is not; more Leiber than JRRT.  You can dive as deeply or as shallowly into my setting materials as you like, but someone who understands -- eventually -- what a “paktun” or an “amak” is, or the gravity of calling the clerical type in the red and grey robes a coward, will get a lot more out of my game.  (Don’t worry too much about it: two of my players are veterans and are happy to help you along.)

* We have a collegial, laid-back atmosphere with a bit of socialization and digression – someone expecting wall-to-wall Action!!! will be disappointed.  (Then again, someone who can’t hack two hours of rip-roaring combat will be disappointed too.)  I run a character-driven game more than a plot-driven game; of course there’s plot, but I want the players to tell me what they’re going to do far more than I push the plot into telling the players what to do.  ‘Tis a sandbox.

* I find resource management fun and fascinating, myself.  In any event it’s important in my game.  Equipment lists matter, encumbrance matters, and not having the right tools to hand means needing to improvise or doing without.

* I’m as much about the journey as the goal.  I don’t handwave the two week trip to get into the mountains to reach the ruins to find the dingus (nor, with a nod to the above, the need of the players to make adequate preparations for that trip).

* I strongly recommend broad-based characters.  Someone wholly maximized for melee combat will be bored for long stretches in my runs.  Someone with no combat skills will be twiddling thumbs in any prolonged battle.  An outdoorswoman who can’t stand being within town walls and a city slicker whose idea of “roughing it” is spending ten silver a night on the inn suite will have big problems.  We'll get together on Discord to discuss creation, so that I can answer questions and give guidance.

* Wizardry: first off, playing a wizard or a priest involves a lot of moving parts; I encourage players to become more familiar with my campaign before diving in.  (With that, a casual mage -- M/1 with a handful of spells, say -- is fine.)  While the mechanics of spellcasting remain essentially the same from Basic Set and GURPS Magic, the spells and Colleges have been heavily revamped and reorganized.  I've added hundreds of new spells and over a dozen new Colleges.  There are also templates and writeups for the various wizardly Orders and clergy.

* The genre is cooperative, and it is neither my job nor those of existing players to come up with schemes to motivate your character to become part of the team.  I also despise player-vs-player with all my heart, and backstabbing within the party is an unforgivable offense.  A handful of players have had problems with these in the past (which is why I’m mentioning it).

* Something that surprises some folks (GURPS, after all, being a relatively deadly game system) is that my campaign has a pretty low mortality rate.  A good bit of this is my belief in what I call the Tasha Yar Rule: I’m very disinclined to kill off a PC because a schmuck orc archer in a throw-away encounter rolled a 3.  The great majority of PC deaths over the years have come from heroic last stands, charges of the battlements ... or extreme stupidity after a couple of warnings. 

* [April 2023]  Last bit, which is an unfortunate recent add-on: this is not a casual, drop-in campaign where one shows up as long as there's nothing better to do of a Saturday afternoon.  Life happens, people get sick, there's the sibling's wedding, sure.  But I do expect regular attendance, and some warning if something's come up.  I do not again want to have designed a plot arc around a particular character's Enemy, only to have that player fail to show up (without warning) for four straight sessions.  If you're looking for a game where you can show up -- or not -- as you please, this isn't it!

* Some blogposts here that give more indepth insights into my style and thinking; look them over if you feel like it!

https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2013/09/ggf-2.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2013/09/ggf-3.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2013/09/top-12-gming-rules.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2014/09/how-to-fix-religion-in-your-game.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2013/10/basic-expectations.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2021/07/player-agency.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2021/06/x-cards.html
https://ravenswing59.blogspot.com/2021/10/what-would-be-my-favorite-setting.html

30 Naval Officers

1) The Hornblower: Coming from a relatively plebeian background in a navy that favors aristocrats, coming very late to the sea, unlucky when it comes to money, unwilling to play the political game, the Hornblower has numerous strikes against him. Yet his brilliant mind took to mathematics early, and his hard work, diligence and native talent led him to become a very successful captain in single-ship actions.  (When it comes to it, it doesn’t hurt that he’s a skilled, scientific fencer, but he's not one of those swashbuckling leads-every-boarding-action types.) Anything but hidebound, he questions many of his navy’s shibboleths and sees further than most. But his background has led him to chronic self-doubt and introspection – he’s sure that if he’s ever anything less than perfectly successful at sea, he’ll be beached, and he’s intensely troubled by questions of honor that others shrug off with a bemused smirk.  The Hornblower overcompensates by striving to be the epitome of wooden stoicism and pushing would-be friends away.

2) The Lewrie: In many ways the polar opposite of the Hornblower, the Lewrie was a town clown – and happy to be so! – interested in little beyond partying, wenching and drinking. Shipped off to the navy in a virtual shanghaiing in order to steal his inheritance, he took an interest in gunnery out of boredom, and eventually became an efficient and effective naval officer almost despite himself. He hasn’t changed all that much: his inability to keep his trousers buttoned around women has threatened his career, as does his relative egalitarianism – he has a few too many freed slaves in his crew for the liking of some – and an occasional tendency to shoot off his mouth to the wrong people. But he’s a lucky captain who’s popular with his crews, and the rumors are rife that the god of the sea is his personal patron.

3) The Seafort: He is a skilled naval officer, yes, and the survivor of more than one disaster; his honor and personal probity are unsurpassed and rarely questioned. But he has two traits seen by some to be virtues and by others to be flaws. In the first place, he has a deep religious faith bordering on fanaticism; in the second, he holds to the service regulations with an intensity that leaves your average fanatic gasping. The Regs are the Law and the Godhead rolled into one, and he will enforce their letter to the utmost, even if he is sickened by the result, no matter how much blood he needs to spill: even if it costs him family, friends or everything else.

4) The Aubrey: He’s almost close to a split personality, the Aubrey ashore and the Aubrey afloat. Ashore, he’s a beefy, jovial scion of the minor gentry, a bit on the shallow side, more than a little gullible, open-handed, fond of horses, gambling and living beyond his means ... with no pretensions to intellect beyond that he’s a notable amateur astronomer and musician. Afloat, he is a master seaman, tactically brilliant, mechanically sound, with a natural aura of command, a renowned gift of sea-luck, and a bright love of battle: while he’s more a good hand-to-hand fighter than a great one, the Aubrey has a touch of the berserker about him. He spent time as a common sailor, and knows the lower deck intimately – what they will put up with, what they won’t. It doesn’t hurt his career that he’s a (largely absentee) member of his nation’s legislature.

5) The Prescot: A renowned knight of his nation’s most revered fighting order, the Prescot is a good tactician, a veteran sailor, and possesses an almost mystical charisma for leadership. He has the common touch, and thrills his men by recognizing even those who he hasn’t seen in years. But what truly leads him to success is less his skills as a ship’s captain – good, but not superlative – than his unparalleled mastery with his greatsword.  The Prescot leads all boarding actions, none can stand before him, and the bottom of the sea is carpeted by the bodies of his slain. He fights his nation’s enemies as if it were a holy war – which, in truth, it is – and in battle his normally affable expression turns into a veritable demon’s mask. Indeed, he’s been accused of being one.

6) The Leary: The Leary and the Aubrey would likely get along; they share many a similarity. The Leary’s own path to the top is smoothed by that his father is the retired ruler (and eminence grise) of the nation, and that the admiral-in-chief is his patron, but his own naval skills are great. He is a navigator of almost supernatural skill, the finest of his day, and he has an impressive record of battle success against huge odds. What sustains him above all else is his cheerful love of life, the loyalty of his crew – many of whom have followed him from ship to ship (to the point that the “Sissies,” nicknamed after the Leary’s first command, are a large cadre recognized by that name alone) – and his unwavering belief in the superiority of his nation’s naval personnel: that they are the best anywhere, and that they will always succeed. One peculiarity is that he’s a devoted amateur naturalist, and often travels with guidebooks.

7) The Bolitho: Like the Leary and the Prescot, the Bolitho has his loyal cadre of followers, to the point that they call themselves “We Happy Few,” and inspires many a lifelong friendship. He is a skilled seaman and tactician, and beyond that skilled at strategy as well: admiral’s rank rests as easily on his shoulders as a captain’s rank did.  Moreover, he's an excellent teacher, counting numerous captains and junior admirals among his former pupils. The only fly in his ointment is a string of personal tragedies that often leave him brooding and depressed, but he seldom lets these moods affect his duty to ship, crew and country. A paragon of decency in an indecent time, he has a disregard for both social conventions and political expediency.  The axes of his superiors seem always sharpened for him if he falters, something his lieutenants grasp better than he does.

8) The Cochrane: On the one hand, the “Sea Wolf” is a renowned and lucky captain, having racked up some of the most impressive single-ship actions in history, against insanely long odds. He is also a skilled coastal raider, a technological innovator and a meticulous planner with a eye towards keeping casualties to a minimum. On the other hand, well. With a large chip on his shoulder (the Cochrane is the son of a great – but impoverished – lord), he is innately incapable of getting along with his superiors, his subordinates, the press, the aristocracy, the government ... pretty much anyone who doesn’t agree with him in all things. With a record of publicly criticizing the admiralty and the government, and superiors who'd rather be damned than offer him an appointment, he’s been reduced to being a mercenary admiral for foreign nations.

9) The Ramius: His country’s been long at (formal) peace, but he is a very well-regarded captain, technically highly competent, a sound tactician. His commands are tacitly teaching ones, and the admiralty looks on the “Schoolmaster” with favor for the large number of talented captains and officers that were juniors in his commands. But there is a canker in his heart. His wife recently died at the hands of an incompetent physician who was too well politically connected to be punished, and the Ramius himself is the rare officer in his nation’s navy from a downtrodden frontier minority. His tolerance for the failings of his nation exhausted, he plans to defect to the enemy: with the fleet’s newest and deadliest warship.

10) The Farragut: Adopted as a child by a celebrated naval captain, the Farragut joined the navy as a midshipman himself at age nine; he was a successful prizemaster at twelve, wounded in action at fourteen. He has been in the navy ever since, even now that he’s becoming an old man. He’s fought in many a war and many an action, and held many a command – largely in anti-piracy patrols. Now his nation is in a civil war, and even though he is from the secessionist province, he is staunchly loyal to the colors he has worn for nearly fifty years. His nation’s leading admiral through seniority, some worry that he’s too old for the task (and a few mutter about his loyalties, if never ever ever in his hearing), but his innate aggressiveness, daring and knowledge of artillery may well see him through. 

11) The Porter: His grandfather was a renowned navy captain. His father was a renowned navy captain. (Indeed, his children are all navy officers.) The Porter is his nation’s second admiral in history, and adding to the family tree, the Farragut is his much older adopted brother. Like the Farragut, he joined the navy very young, and like the Farragut, he has served his entire life. He grew up overseas and speaks several languages well, and despite friction with his superiors – the Porter tends to be cocky and challenges his superiors’ skill and knowledge – was selected to found the national maritime academy, and with his characteristic energy, added honor, discipline and knowledge to the service. He’s much more of a thinker than his brawler of an elder brother, which so far has served him well in the nation’s civil war. The Porter is experienced in handling flotillas of small craft and river boats, as well as in combined operations with army forces, one of the few sea captains who is.

12) The Hull: Bred to the sea in merchantmen – his father was a civilian captain – he joined his newly independent nation’s nascent navy at age 25. In something of a makeshift squadron, his captain’s time was taken up with its command, leaving the Hull as tacit “captain” of the warship. He received his first independent command just two years later, fighting pirates – whom the Hull hates with a bitter passion – and while the new navy is small and operating on a shoestring, the Hull hasn’t lacked for the best commands available since. He’s proven to be an efficient and reliable leader, and has made his name in single-ship actions, being perhaps the fleet’s best shiphandler. Unfortunately, his popularity among his crews is suspect; difficulties in manning the fleet has led him to put newly recruited sailors in irons, lest they immediately desert with their hiring bonuses. With his country in a new war against the world’s leading maritime power, it is up to the Hull and his fellow captains to stave off their fleets.

13) The Pigot: Young for his post, advanced up the ranks with indecent speed, he’s made captain through good connections and patronage (his father’s an admiral). Unfortunately, the Pigot’s no seaman and even less of a shiphandler; his ships have rammed two merchantmen so far. What is worse, he seized the master and officers of the second merchantmen, blamed them for the incident, and had them flogged, creating a diplomatic incident and nearly leading him to be cashiered. His new command may be his last chance for glory. However, he now has a reputation for extreme brutality, and scarcely a man in his crew has escaped flogging or worse. Whether he gains the distinction he seeks or dies at the hands of his crew is the toss of a coin.

14) The Doria: A scion of the minor nobility, he was orphaned at an early age, and became a mercenary to support himself before joining the navy. Even after becoming a renowned leader in the service of his native navy, the mercenary has never really left the Doria’s soul: he’s touchy when it comes to being paid per contract and on time, and has switched sides in consequence more than once. Still, his heart is with his homeland, and he is seldom out of its colors for long. His fellow citizens don’t seem to mind, and he’s been called upon as an honest broker more than once to help sort out his nation’s occasionally dysfunctional government. Age has not lessened his vigor, and deep into his eighties, his land has called on him again – for perhaps the final time – to lead their navy against the enemy.

15) The Semmes: When the rebellion began, the Farragut stayed with the colors. But his comrade the Semmes – as with the Farragut, a naval officer for many decades – could not turn his back on his home province. The secessionist navy is weak and consists of raiders and privateers, and its captains have proven to be masters at this style of warfare. Though it is seen as ignoble, the Semmes rationalizes this as the only real chance he has of using his skills in his new nation’s cause. Still, the dishonor stings somewhat, and so the Semmes will risk his command in “honorable” single-ship actions with the enemy navy. Handsome and deceptively young looking, he is also a student of philosophy, and read for the law as a lieutenant.

16) The de Clisson: The war was long and savage, but punctuated by occasional truces. The de Clisson’s husband was treacherously seized during one of them, and cruelly executed for treason in what was widely seen to be a judicial murder. Escaping just ahead of the law, the de Clisson swore red vengeance. She took what portable fortune she could, outfitted a squadron of warships painted black and with sails dyed red, and with her vassals as crews, offered her services to the other side. The “Lioness” and her Black Fleet are greatly feared, having preyed relentlessly on her old nation ever since: she scorns quarter and offers none, being famous for leaving only one survivor of any of her attacks on ship or coastal town, so that the survivor can tell others who was responsible. Her two surviving teenage sons sail with her, and are as redhanded as their mother. Gruesomely, her husband’s severed head is the figurehead of her flagship Revenge.

17) The Amra: His homeland is in the barbaric north, and while he’s lived in civilized lands since he was a teenager and possesses a crude honor and sense of chivalry, he’s been tarred with the barbarian brush ever after. While he’s a decent enough seaman and shiphandler, he’s neither an expert navigator nor much of a tactician: his plan is usually to sail straight up to the enemy, board them and take them without undue fuss. While his tactics often result in heavy losses among his crews, he possesses a formidable charisma ... and he is the best fighter in the world, all-but unconquerable. The Amra has spent years as a pirate, and is greatly respected by corsairs and the coastal tribesmen, whom he has led on more than one occasion. Between this and his barbaric upbringing, he has no patience with politics, and has foundered more than once on his insistence on straight talk and plain speech, and his bemused contempt for laws he finds foolish.

18) The Wallis: He wasn’t really at sea when he was five years old; that was an illegal dodge used by many a parent to get their children naval seniority young.  He didn’t actually go to sea until he was 13, and hasn’t had all that distinguished a career: been in the right places, had decent enough luck, never was wounded, never screwed up, had the usual number of commands, was an admiral at fifty.  But.  His nation really takes seniority seriously, and up the ladder the Wallis continued to climb, refusing to retire ... and he can’t be compelled to do so, nor can he be superseded.  He’s nearly a hundred years old now, technically on “active” duty for over ninety years, and Admiral of the Fleet for the better part of twenty years.  The ruler’s begging him to retire, threatening him with a seagoing command if he doesn’t.  The response of the Wallis is that he’s ready to accept one!

19) The l’Olonnois: But as to that, nations can do worse than the Wallis.  There’s the l’Olonnois.  The enemy ambushed him and his crew, slaughtering almost everyone – he himself survived by covering himself with blood and playing dead.  After that, he swore he would never give quarter to the enemy, and he hasn’t.  He will loot and torture, rape and murder, commit any atrocity and break any law to defeat them, and no naval officer has a worse reputation for cruelty or implacable ferocity.  Nor is he any more civilized with prisoners of war: one of his most gruesome deeds was to tear out the heart of one surrendered captain and eat it raw in front of the surrendered crew.  With an immense price on his head, the enemy has sworn to serve the l’Olonnois out as he has done to others.  If they can catch him.

20) The O’Malley: Her nation is the restive and unwilling conquest of a larger, and as a noble, she commands the rebel fleet.  Whether the O’Malley is a freedom fighter or a pirate depends on one’s point of view, but in any event she’s a fearless swashbuckler, less by way of a tactician than in ambushes and direct strikes.  It helps that her lands are in a region where the sway of the oppressors is weak and sympathy for her is strong, and she keeps the loyalty of the common folk with her coarse manners and coarser language ... and through her many victories.

21) The Lamb: He has a profound hatred for physical labor and for rising early in the morning (having grown up on a hardscrabble farm), and so avoids both at all costs.  However, the notion of sitting down – and being paid to read books! – is of great delight to the Lamb, and so he arranged, very efficiently, to pass through the naval academy with the least amount of effort.  (This involved becoming an expert smallsword fencer, so that he could avoid playing a rougher sport, and avoid harsh discipline that might threaten his chances to win matches for the dear old Navy!)  He has a very well trained and disciplined memory, so he has all the answers to hand for senior officers.  This makes them look good, and therefore happy, so the Lamb is a highly valued staff officer ... he's never had a command and would decline one if offered.  A natural efficiency expert (less work that way!), every job he holds is simplified, and his successor always has less work to do than his predecessor.

22) The Ghormley: With a long and uneventful career in the peacetime navy, moving up through the usual ladder of posts and commands, he became friends with the nation’s ruler.  And so, when the nation went to war, the Ghormley was placed in command of its expeditionary fleet, over the heads of others the naval authorities preferred in the role.  Unfortunately, the Peter Principle is very much at work.  Technological advances have him in command of ships far different than he remembers how to handle, he’s never before held fleet command, the details of admiralty are beyond him, he’s indecisive, and he often skips planning meetings.  His indecisive defeatism is starting to infect his command.

23) The Togo: His once-isolationist nation had no experience at sea ... until the day a foreign navy raided them.  The teenage Togo fought the invaders, but to no avail, and a humiliating defeat was the end result.  Shortly thereafter, the nation founded its first navy, and the Togo enlisted.  He knew that his best path to naval knowledge was in the very nation that attacked them, and he lived and studied there for several years ... insulted, derided – but successful.  He rose quickly up the ranks upon returning home, despite bouts of ill health, and now he is the fleet commander.  He now leads that fleet in a new war against a major power, and he is the only commander on his side with actual combat experience at sea.  Certainly the honor of his nation and his race are at stake.

24) The Mundy: Like the Lamb, she’s a career staff officer.  Naval punctilio means nothing to her, not even her best friend would call her a people person, and the only way she really knows how to act in certain situations is to observe others and do likewise.  (She’s only in the navy at all out of the noblesse oblige of her aristocratic culture, and as a substitute family for the one she lost in an insurrection.) But in staff work she’s unsurpassed, especially in communications and intelligence gathering and analysis, and is immensely respected on the ships she’s on ... not least due to the Mundy’s expertise as a duelist and as a deadly shot.  While she’s never served in the line and has no feel for navigation or shiphandling, the Mundy has a basic grasp of tactics, and has done well in situations where she’s been forced to command a vessel ... or a squadron.

25) The Tyacke: Very successful early on as a commander of small warships, his luck ran out in a battle that badly disfigured him.  The injury cost him his command and his repulsed fiancee, but he stuck with the service with his bitterness fueling his natural intense energy.  The “Devil With Half A Face” became a greatly feared captain in anti-slavery patrols – a much-derided arm of the navy which was the only way the interest-lacking Tyacke could get a command – fighting slavers with both his vast natural talent and a distinct lack of quarter.  He’s capable of great loyalty to an admiral who’d take a chance on him, but contemptuously rejects pity, and sometimes lashes out savagely at the hint of it.

26) The Bonden: Coming from the lower classes and the lower deck, he’ll never have a command; as to that, uneducated and only becoming literate later in life, he’s barely an officer.  But the Bonden is a consummate natural seaman, skilled at all aspects of his trade, and his captains often trust him as a prize master or as the “advisor” for less competent, higher status officers on independent commands.  Able to deal courteously with his superiors, just as able to speak the coarse lower deck idiom, he’s often the backbone of his ships.  It doesn’t hurt his reputation that he’s a renowned boxer and wrestler, often the champion in fleet-wide competitions.

27) The Pascoe: On the one hand, the Pascoe’s got it made: he’s the nephew of the Bolitho, one of the great admiral’s many successful proteges, a natural frigate captain, young, successful, handsome, gaining renown in his own right, far less prone to make enemies than his uncle.  But on the other, there are shadows ... quite aside from that the Bolitho is a tough act to follow.  The Pascoe is in fact a bastard whom his uncle took in out of pity; his mother was a penniless prostitute, and his father (the Bolitho’s older brother) was a despised traitor to his nation, gaining a reputation the Pascoe has had to live down.  He’s also unlucky in love, involved in more than one romance doomed from the start – notably on one occasion, with his admiral’s wife.

28) The Blood: Apolitical, a member of a disparaged and oppressed minority, while the Blood was an experienced soldier and sailor in his youth, he never would’ve entered a naval career except through the hazards of misfortune.  Settling down to the practice of medicine, he humanely treated wounded rebels, was swept up in reprisals by the scared government, condemned, sold as a slave.  Popular among his fellow slaves due to his skills as a physician, he gathered together a cadre of sailors, escaped, and now commands a successful squadron of privateers ... as much out of a lack of anything better to do as for any other reason.  Curiously solicitous of his home nation (which causes some friction among his lieutenants), the Blood preys with verve upon its enemies: perhaps hoping for a pardon and reinstatement.

29) The Harrington: It’s not that her nation’s navy frowns on female commanders; it’s relatively egalitarian, with many women in high command.  Nor is it that the Harrington is a poor captain – quite the opposite, she’s highly successful both with single-ship and squadron command, with a talent for overcoming obstacles and for winning the respect of her enemies, and the Bolitho is her only peer on this list for their proteges achieving command in their own right.  Perhaps it’s just that the navy in which she serves is factionalized, politicized and more than a little corrupt, that she’s too honest and forthright to play such games ... and she's delivered too much testimony and too many reports laying well-deserved blame for screwups at the feet of highly placed admirals.  As such, all too often she winds up on the wrong side of factional battles, and her career’s suffered for it.

30) The Adama: He was on the brink of retirement, the weary, aging, bypassed last commander of an obsolete warship about to be mothballed.  Then a disaster struck his nation, the navy was gutted, and it’s not so much that the Adama is their best captain available as that he’s damn near the only one left.  Nonetheless, he plays a losing hand as well as anyone can hope for, managing the retreat with grim determination and skill.  His focus is intense and almost unwavering, his love of his ship almost symbiotic, and he will do what it takes to get the survivors through to safety.