A 1933 teletype machineVirtually every group of player characters in The Wars possesses a boîtenoire, a wireless teletype machine that enables swift communication between the unit and headquarters – and, perhaps, other channels.

Even setting aside any supernatural elements, military communications are a rich source of horror. When encountering someone face-to-face – say, a commanding officer ordering you to advance into the teeth of enemy guns – you can quibble, plead, challenge, or otherwise appeal to one fellow human. A typed message offers no such leeway. All the players have is the brute text, unyielding, as cryptic or as unambiguous as the GM desires. Are the commanding officers coldly cruel, clueless, deranged or actively sadistic? Or have they been taken over by Carcosan horrors? The players can’t tell from the text…

The boîtenoire’s a great way to deliver handouts to the player characters; send them briefing documents or orders as boîte-noire messages. You can even do in-character session write-ups in the form of dispatches sent by the squad in the field.

Getting Technical

The operation of the boîtenoire is simple:  type your message, press send, and off it goes. One key question that the Wars is silent on, however, is the question of addressing – how do you tell the box where to send the message? Some options:

  • Closed Channel: Your boîtenoire only communicates with headquarters. There’s no addressing; it’s fixed when the box is constructed. Maybe headquarters has a master box that can communicate with multiple subsidiary units, or perhaps the devices are constructed in pairs, inextricably entangled with one another.
  • Frequency: A boîtenoire has a frequency selector; send a message, and any boxes set to that frequency receive the message. Does each unit have an assigned frequency? Do enemy boxes work on the same frequencies (requiring coded transmissions – which, of course, in the parlance of boîtenoire operators, are referred to as ‘masks’), or does physics now bow to different national flags? Picking up messages meant for another unit lets the GM hint at horrors elsewhere on the battlefield.
  • Code: Each box has a unique identifier; any message tagged with that code gets delivered to that box and that box alone. Messages cannot be intercepted – but anyone with your code can send you messages, and you have no way to reply or verify their identity unless they include their code in the message. What form does this code take – a string of digits? A passphrase? A cryptic sigil?
  • Addressed: For something more overtly weird and surreal, the boîtenoire works like a post office run by unseen angels. You literally address your message like a conventional letter (“Room 239, Hotel Splendide, Rue Jaune, Arles”), and if there’s a boîtenoire there, it gets the message; otherwise, it’s lost in the ether. While in the field, units must find semi-valid postal addresses to receive messages. (“Quick! What’s the address of that bombed-out hovel?”)
  • Desire: The box just… works. Enter a message, and it’ll be delivered to headquarters, or to the squad in the next valley, or to the spotter dragonfly circling overhead.

Getting Scary

For more overt supernatural weirdness:

  • Messages Out Of Time: In my campaign, the first boîte-noire showed up in Paris, as a gift to the characters from their unwanted new patron Cassilda. She communicated with them through the box – but they also got a bunch of meaningless messages about troop movements and artillery bombardments which made no sense to them at the time. Later, in the Wars, I intended to reuse those messages as transmissions to the second set of player characters. Messages from the future can hint at dire fates or give the players a chance to avert some catastrophe. (If you’re feeling really ambitious, you could even take the conceit of the Armitage Files and feed it through a boîtenoire.)
  • Messages From The Dead: From the classic “the guy in the other trench we’ve been talking to all session – he was killed in action a year ago” to using the machine to conduct seances, there’s a lovely creepiness to early telecommunications. Did Thomas Edison invent the boîtenoire through his research? Might the player characters pick up unsent letters from their Paris incarnations?
  • Messages From Beyond: Of course, any Carcosan technology falls under the dread rule of the Yellow King. How can the players trust what they receive from the box? What happens if the boîtenoire clatters, and the message begins: STRANGE IS THE NIGHT WHERE BLACK STARS RISE, AND STRANGE MOONS CIRCLE THROUGH THE SKIES…

The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

In the latest episode of their hellhound-haunted podcast, Ken and Robin talk PC endgames, folk horror 101, Symbolist painter Odilon Redon (as seen in The Yellow King Roleplaying Game), and saving Robert Johnson.

A column about roleplaying

by Robin D. Laws

As more Yellow King Roleplaying Game scenarios appear, you’ll see single-use Injury and Shock cards keyed to their specific details.

These might refer to the entities that out the cards. Or they could require characters to interact with the particulars of the mystery in order to discard them.

Prepare in advance for scenarios you create by building scenario-specific cards.

For example, in my playtest of the This Is Normal Now sequence, a foe from the book, the fleeners (p. 46), had different Injury cards than canonical ones given in the book. Fleeners are irritatingly terrifying minion figures made of animated papier-mâché. With their keening cry of “fleener fleener fleener” they harass the enemies of their masters, inducing unease and reporting back to headquarters with supernatural senses.

In our series, they served a politician benefiting from Carcosan reality alteration. By the time the investigators discovered this, multiple investigators were wearing another aspect of his conspiracy, a sinister Fitbit-like device called an Urchin, on their wrists. In the game book, the Injury cards they dish out in combat need to fit any number of situations GMs might use them for. At my table, they could key into this other plot element, like so:

CLOGGED SINUSES

Injury

Non-lethal. -1 to all tests.

Discard when you fail a test by a margin of 1.

FLEENER EFFECT

Injury

-1 to Focus and Presence tests if any character in the current scene has expressed a view the fleeners’ master would agree with.

Discard by freeing yourself of an Urchin.

Clogged Sinuses reflects what happens when you fight a papier-mâché enemy: it falls into dust even if it beats you, creating a cloud of not entirely ordinary dust that gets literally up your nose.

Fleener Effect is an oddball example of an Injury that exacts a psychic toll. Events in the game had already established the extraordinary lengths characters had to go to to get Urchins off their wrists. Worse, if you receive the Fleener Effect and don’t have an Urchin already on you, you have to acquire one, put it on, exposing yourself to its various ill-effects, and then get it off again, in order to discard the card.

Or you can wait until the end of the scenario and discard it then, as it is not a Continuity card.

Tying cards into ongoing sources of fear in your game gives them an extra frisson. The awful cries of foxes became a motif in my game. Now that I look back on it I wonder why I didn’t incorporate them into a card effect. So many ways to unnerve the group, so little time…

When tying a discard condition into specific story events, ensure that the condition can be achieved. You want the player holding the card to feel pressured, but not entirely forced, to make the attempt. Focus on actions that are risky or hard to achieve, but that they might want to perform even without the card. In this example, getting rid of an Urchin is a good thing in its own right.

Players simply resign themselves to the risk of holding onto a card, and its ill consequence, if you attach too unpleasant or challenging a discard condition to it. A card that gives them the option of, say, killing a particular innocent GMC, feels too much like a force.

Here’s an unfairly manipulative version of a custom card:

MURDEROUS THOUGHTS

Shock

-2 to Focus tests.

Discard by killing sweet Sally Murdoch.

The fear of turning evil is a horror staple and within bounds, but your custom card should invoke it without nakedly jerking the player around. Instead you might consider a choice the character which, though queasy, the character can recover from:

MURDEROUS THOUGHTS

Shock

-2 to Focus tests.

Discard by confessing your unwelcome homicidal impulses to a therapist, authority figure, or Sally Murdoch herself.

When using discard effects to nudge players further into the story, couch the condition vaguely. This allows players to think they’ve cleverly solved a problem. Overly clear descriptions risk the feeling that players must pixel-bitch their way to one predetermined cut scene. Perhaps include a couple of possible scenes that fulfill the conditions.

Like so:

CAGED

Shock

Lose 1 Health and 1 Composure at 6 AM each day (world time.)

Discard when you escape, taking a wrongly convicted prisoner with you.

This version might seem too restrictive:

CAGED

Shock

Lose 1 Health and 1 Composure at 6 AM each day (world time.)

Discard when you escape, taking Albert Chen with you.

Or it might work fine, especially if the players are already thinking of rescuing Albert by the time the card appears. That way the discard registers as a bonus incentive toward an existing goal, not a hoop to reluctantly jump through.

Create your own custom cards with these templates, formatted for Adobe Photoshop and the open source GIMP image editor:

For licensing reasons we can’t supply fonts. The card header is a Garamond font, which you probably already have in some form. You’ll want to play around with the size, based on your specific version of the font, and the length of each card title. My version has it a default of point size 32. The body text is P22 Mayflower Smooth, by default at point 22 in this template.


 

The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

A column about roleplaying

by Robin D. Laws

While developing collaborators’ scenarios for Black Star Magic, I found myself puzzling out a design style question arising from a particular feature of QuickShock.

In previous iterations of GUMSHOE, and most other games with hit points or a hit point-like function, characters can theoretically leave play at any time. In all GUMSHOE games characters can die physically, ending their stories and requiring players to create replacements. In our various horror games, characters can also exit after cracking under intolerable mental strain.

The Yellow King Roleplaying Game follows that pattern: your character can shuffle off in both ways. Unlike games with traditional hit points (Health points in GUMSHOE) or Sanity / Stability points, YKRPG characters take their final curtains after receiving a predetermined number of Injury or Shock cards. After 3 or 4 cards, depending on how forgiving the GM has chosen to make her game, they’re outta there.

My scenarios provide ample opportunities to take Injury and Shock cards. In fact, one of the key requests made by playtesters was STOP MURDERING US SO HARD.

One or two of my more forgiving colleagues, on the other hand, just might have submitted scenarios including a less-than-fatal number of Injuries and/or Shocks.

This raised the question: is that poor form?

A scenario for standard GUMSHOE might make the prospect of death unlikely, by going light on scenes featuring fights or physical hazards. Likewise it might feature only a handful of Stability or Composure tests. But depending on how many points players have invested in key pools, you can’t say for certain that the scenario won’t dispatch a PC or two.

In QuickShock you can count the number of times the characters might take cards, and see that it doesn’t equal the Final Card threshold.

That’s before taking edge cases into account, though.

In an ongoing game, one or more characters may already have Continuity Shock or Injury cards carried over from previous play. This drops their effective thresholds for receiving new cards. If you have the Injury card Circulatory Damage, you start every scenario being able to receive one less Injury additional card than you did when you began play. A scenario that deals out a maximum of two Injuries could, if you get both of them, end you.

Also, the GM, responding to surprise player choices, may wind up improvising additional fights, hazards, and disturbing events. When these go wrong they hand out cards over and above those listed in the scenario. “You can’t die from the cards listed in the scenario” must always be read as “You can’t die from the cards listed in the scenario, if you only do what the scenario predicts you might do.” Those of us who have ever run a game know how big an if that is.

In yet another also, the GM never tells the players that a scenario includes few Shock or Injury cards. It’s not the actual likelihood of investigator demise that creates suspense in play, but the threat of it as perceived by the players, that delivers the emotional freight. When you get the last card listed in the scenario, you have no way of knowing that there aren’t a boatload more of them still potentially to come. Unless you read the scenario afterwards, you’ll never see that you were actually safe.

For those reasons, I decided that it should not be a requirement that every published scenario hand out enough cards to potentially kill off a character.

Also, with rare exceptions, Shock and Injury cards impose other penalties on the characters who receive them. That’s why they exist. Unlike a quantity of lost hit points, they create lingering effects that impact the story. They sit in front of the players, reminding them that something has gone wrong. Something that must be addressed. The anxious desire to get rid of these awful, nagging cards mimics the fear and unease of the characters. Even if you can only get one card of a given type in a scenario, when you get it, you generally really want to get rid of it. One card you remember getting, or struggling to discard, exerts a greater impact than some Health points you lost and then refreshed.

Even if that weren’t the case, a philosophical design question remains: is it somehow cheating, or poor form, to introduce the possibility of character demise when it can’t actually happen? A D&D or 13th Age game assumes you’ll be fighting up a storm over most evenings of play. But if a particular adventure has you intriguing your way through a trade dispute with little chance of taking an ax to the face, you likely consider that a refreshing change of pace. After a while you’re going to want to get back to the core activity of battling and looting, jotting down hit point losses as you go. But the adventure where the stakes aren’t the characters’ survival doesn’t register as a cheat.

For a scenario to engage the players, they have to care about something. They must want for X to happen and fear that it will not. The prospect of character death exists in games as a default set of stakes: do you live or die?

In the mystery scenario that GUMSHOE offers, you always have another measure of success, other than “am I still breathing at the end?” When you figure out what’s going on in time to prevent disaster, see justice done, or simply slake your curiosity, you’ve won.

As long as your choices lead to either good or bad consequences, those consequences don’t have to be Shock or Injury cards in order for players to walk away from the table remembering a gripping narrative.


The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

As addressed in an earlier piece, you may want to deploy a nastier set of Shock and Injury cards when playing The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in one-shot format.

The cards mentioned there give you a steeper doom spiral. But some con games may tick along safely until the very last moment, where dramatic necessity demands less of a spiral than a precipitous drop from unharmed to smeared across the streets of Paris. (Or the battlefield, or post-revolutionary New York, or in your neighborhood.)

This will most often happen when you as GM do your subtle and not-so-subtle best to steer the investigators from final annihilation, but the players follow their hearts and charge in headlong, warnings be damned.

When this happened in a con run I GMed last spring, I improvised my way to a result that provided the 50% party kill story logic decreed.

(Long story short: half the group decided to attack the Carcosan doppelgangers who had engineered their participation in the publication of the play. The other half decided to abstain. I pointed out what a big disadvantage this would put the fighting characters in. They remained undeterred. Not because they were foolish, but because it was the fun and fitting thing to do.)

Imposing an enormous Challenge rating to compensate for their unspent Fighting points was the easy part.

When you find yourself in this situation, you can improvise the requisite sudden deaths. But you might want cards to prove that you’re doing it within the rules. Which is what you’ll be doing, when you deal out the cards below.

BRINK OF DOOM

Injury

-2 to all tests.

The next Shock or Injury card you receive becomes your Final Card.

CLIMACTIC DOOM

Injury

Counts as your Final Card.

You are dead. Surviving PCs might take advantage of shattered reality to restore your the ability to speak and move. Even so, you’re still dead and leave play at end of scenario.


The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

For an indefinite but limited time only, send a pic of yourself holding The Yellow King Roleplaying Game to Robin on Twitter (@RobinDLaws) and he’ll put it through this lovely and not at all harmful Carcosan filter for you.


The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

The Yellow Sign featured heavily in The Yellow King Roleplaying Game and its associated banners and art radiates an alien clarity. As created by graphic designer extraordinaire Christian Knutsson, its imperfections exist within the calm and implacable surety of the Pallid Mask.

Yet no everyone in the clashing realities of the game pulls the same template or stencil off the shelf when they need to inscribe their loyalty to the Court of Hali in sigil form. You might want a gnarlier, freehand version to incorporate into your handouts and fan art. At Pelgrane we’re all about satisfying obscure desires we invent and then project upon you, the esteemed hypothetical reader. Accordingly, here are three sizes of the same freehand Sign for your sinister use.

The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

In a very special episode dedicated to The Yellow King Roleplaying Game, Ken and Robin talk time as a game mechanic, the Skin Affair, strange machinery in the Belle Epoque, and the Martinist magician Papus.

Waxen-eared conspirators at constant war with their cats aren’t the only people with a vested interest in propagating the Yellow Sign. At Pelgrane Press we want everyone to gaze into the symbol of Carcosa, pledging fealty to the Pallid Mask and perhaps picking up a copy of The Yellow King Roleplaying Game.

To this end, Pelgrane releases its Yellow Sign symbol, designed with subtle menace by Christian Knutsson, into the public domain. Use it personally or commercially. Put it in illustrations, banners, or books. Slap it on t-shirts, hats, mugs, or temporary tattoos. Get started by downloading the Yellow Sign image pack.

Spread the word from here to the Hyades. The king is here!


The Yellow King Roleplaying Game takes you on a brain-bending spiral through multiple selves and timelines, pitting characters against the reality-altering horror of The King in Yellow. When read, this suppressed play invites madness, and remolds our world into a colony of the alien planet Carcosa. Four core books, served up together in a beautiful slipcase, confront layers with an epic journey into horror in four alternate-reality settings: Belle Epoque Paris, The Wars, Aftermath, and This Is Normal Now. Purchase The Yellow King Roleplaying Game in print and PDF at the Pelgrane Shop.

Errors spotted after the books went to press are listed below. We periodically update PDFs to correct errors, so be sure you update your electronic copies to the latest current version. If you spot a possible error in the text, please alert us at support@pelgranepress.com.

Paris

p. 14/15: certain of the Kits are built on 33 points, not the canonical 32. Although we’ll be fixing this in later printings, we suggest that you ignore this minor discrepancy.

p. 21: Intuition is a technical ability.

p. 53: example bridging columns 1 and 2 should read as follows:

Carrie, Tsing and Saif have margins higher than 0, so you invite them to narrate. Carrie has the same margin but a higher spend, so she goes last. Tsing and Saif both have the same spend and margin, so precede her in seating order.

I grab the bouncing die and put it safely in my pocket!” Tsing cries.

I complete the remaining thrashings,” Saif narrates.

And I get in a few kicks as I guide the rest of my friends to a safe helter-skelter dash through Montparnasse!” adds Carrie.

p. 60: minor injuries occur a failure with a margin of 1, not on 0 or 1

p. 64: a margin of 0 is a success, not a failure

p. 67: Shock cards for “You Enter an Eerie or Haunted Place” are Bad Place (Minor) and Awful Place (Major)

p.68/69: Final entries in this chart erroneously list Athletics as the ability tested. These are all Composure tests.

p. 148 / 156: Injury cards for Gendarmes are inconsistent between the table on 148 and description on 156. Either set of cards works, but since Blow to the Head/Ringing Cranium aren’t used elsewhere you may prefer them.

p.150: Fledgling and Legendary Vampires have their Minor and Major Injuries mixed up in the table. Fledgling has the Injuries for Legendary and vice versa.

Difficulty for Operatives should be Escape 2, Other 4, Kill 6

for Patchwork, should be Escape, 3, Other 6, Kill 7

p. 163: Injury cards for the Rakes fell out of the manuscript at some point. They are:

Thrashed

Injury

-1 to all tests (except Preparedness). After any failed, salient test, roll a die. Even: discard.

Rapier Wound

Injury

-1 to all tests (except Preparedness). After one interval, as recipient of a Difficulty 5 First Aid success, trade for “Thrashed.”

 

p 165 – the Difficulty for resisting the Legendary Vampire’s commands are reversed. Forcing someone to harm themselves should be a difficulty 4 and while basic commands should be almost impossible to ignore at 8.

p.170 – last para, The Set Painter is an alternate scene, not core. 

p.172 – The Poster Illustrator, 3rd para and also 3rd bullet, all the scenes referred to are core and not alternate. 

p.173 – 3rd and 4th paras, these scenes are core and not alternate. 

The Impresario and the Manager, Lead-outs should include The Librettist. 

p.178 – The Young Lover, shown as an alternate scene here, but as a core scene in the diagram on p.169. 

p.179 – Chateau de Roudier, add Celeste to the lead-outs. 

p.180 – Celeste, add The Crawlways to lead-outs. 

p.181 – The Crawlways, 2nd para, The Lake is a core scene

p. 233, point 8. a. ii. B. should read “Refresh a general ability other than Athletics, Fighting, or Health”

The Wars

p. 9: Reference to a Shepherd kit, should refer to the Conscience kit

p. 10: certain of the Kits are built on a few fewer points than they should have. We’ll be fixing this in future editions but suggest you ignore the discrepancy.

p. 24: Disregard the paragraph beginning with “On the other hand”

p. 66: Injury cards for Whatsisname should be Cortisol Spike / Bullet Wound

p. 72: Toll for “Peasant Who Seems Lovely” should be 1.

p. 73: the second “Success, margin of 1 or less” should read “Success, margin of 2 or greater”

p. 75: for all types, Adjust to Other Sequences entry Escape=2 is redundant

p.106 – Dragonflies Down, pink box, Lead-out should be The Mission, not The Assignment. 

p.114, 2nd col, 4th bullet, The Uniforms is an alternate scene, not core. 

p.118, Worried Mother, pink box, add Madame Mareuil to the lead-outs.

Aftermath

p.62 – Loyalty Chip, “Major/Minor Injuries” should be “Major/Minor Shocks”

p. 78: Cancer Bag’s Major Injury should be Precancerous; Shades’s Difficulty should be Escape 2, Other 4, Kill 5; Shatterling’s should be Escape 2, Other 5, Kill 6

p.89 – Shade’s Injuries are actually Shocks

p.99 – diagram, Hank’s Place should have a lead-out of Hank’s Old Crew and not The Sidetrack. 

p.99 – diagram, Gevaudan Industries should have lead-outs of Hank’s Old Crew and The Confession, and not The Sidetrack. 

p.99 – diagram, Hank’s Old Crew should have a lead-out of The Sidetrack. 

p.99 – diagram, The Sidetrack should have a lead-in from The Confession. 

p.103 – Hank’s Toughest Rival, yellow box, add Hank’s Aide to the lead-ins. 

p.111 – 2nd col, first dashed point, “Frenet gave this up his enquiry” -> “Frenet gave up his enquiry”. 

p.113 – Hank’s Old Crew, black box, remove Hank’s Place and Gevaudan Industries from lead-outs.

This is Normal Now

p. 81 – Aldebaran is 65 light years away.

p. 96 – “Another might deal a -1 or a -2.” should read: “Another might deal a -1 in both cases, but with a tougher discard condition for the major card.”

 p.103 – Scene diagram, Dave’s Books and Dave’s Not Here should be lead-outs from The Lecture, not from TED For Weirdos.

 p.104 – The Lecture, blue box, add Dave’s Books and Dave’s Not Here to the lead-outs.

p. 105 – “TED For Weirdos” is an alternate scene, not a core scene.

p. 113 – Sense Trouble test at end of column one has a Difficulty of 4

p.113– Talking To Kim, black box, remove The Library as a lead-out.

 p.115 – Searching For Kim, yellow box, remove Talking To Kim as a lead-out.

p.119 – The Cottage, blue box, add Talking to Kim and Searching for Kim to the lead-ins, and remove Dave’s Not Here from the lead-outs.

p. 165 – In point 4, “+1 to +3 for situational modifiers if disadvantaged” should read “+1 or +2 for situational modifiers if disadvantaged.”

p.168 – Intuition should be (I), not (T); Law should be (A), not (T).

Questions and Clarifications

In Paris p. 46, the difficulty for Weak foes for “Other” is higher than for Tough But Unmatched foes. Is this correct?

Yes. In this sequence weaker foes are a nuisance when you try to finesse them.

Do characters failing Support Actions (Paris p. 60) both pay the Toll and take an Injury? That seems extra nasty.

Yes. Support actions are meant to be risky.

In The Wars, is it intentional that Vastly Superior foes are easier to flee from than Superior ones?

Yes. You should run away from them and the rules support you in this.

In The Wars, should the Sleep Deprivation hazard be Health, not Battlefield?

Battlefield is intended, as seasoned soldiers learn to nap strategically, a talent they have in common with game designers.

Is the Gangrene card missing?

It’s on p. 144 of The Wars.

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