Friday, September 24, 2010, 12:39 PM
Thereâs music in combat. The roar of machine guns, hemi engines blaring angrily, and you, right there in the middle screaming curses at the Mist Fiends as your foot tries to crush the gas pedal through the floor boards. And you canât believe they pay you for this.
A Caravaner is a professional trader and part-time guide for those desperate or foolhardy enough to venture outside the barriers. Caravaners eek out a living selling goods to outlying âfreeâ communities, delivering freight to corporate outposts and leading people safely around Mist-Storms. Truth be told, they could probably make as much or more working as muscle for a Corp or mining âRockâ for the Union, but then theyâd have a boss, and a desk, and a payroll clerk. A Caravan has more in common with an armored convoy than a trade caravan. Each Caravanerâs vehicle is a uniquely modified classic car or truck, armor-plated and bristling with machine guns. Pilgrims traveling with the caravan stand out for their lack of weaponry, but travel flanked by the Caravanersâ muscle cars for safety.
Caravaner Encounter Power 1
You charge forward with a snarl, blasting away at foes and moving allies to safety as you go.
Encounter; Martial; Weapon
Standard ActionÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Special
Target: Each Creature Adjacent during Move
Attack: Primary Ability vs. AC
HIT: 1W+Ability Modifier Weapon Damage
Effect: You shift your primary ability modifier and may attack each creature you are adjacent to during the movement. Any allies you pass may shift 2 squares as a free action.
DrakenÂ (Dragonborn)- Draken are a stubborn and implacable people who refused to bend their knee to the Corporations. For their troubles, they were denied aid when a Mist Storm and subsequent Fiend attack wiped out their entire governing body. Rumors abound that there were corporation forces using the mist as cover for operations within Draken borders. After their nation fell, most adult Draken were arrested and imprisoned for life, the young who were taken were sent to labor camps and those who remained free had to live as fugitives. Thus, an entire people were destroyed. Those left today are the children of survivors. They trust no one, they live each moment waiting for death and nearly all Draken within New Eden operate on the bad side of town, either with T.S.U.N.A.M.I. or for a local crime lord, they function as feared enforcers and capable agents.
Thursday, September 23, 2010, 6:52 PM
After a break from DM'ng, I've decided the next game I run will be set in my homebrew setting. I'm going to introduce my players to the world a few bits at a time, so I thought I'd share here too. The setting is called Sojourn Green and it's heavily inspired by JRPGs and the works of Miyazaki. I've already sent out some of the themes of the setting and I've begun to do Character Themes and Races next. So to get you caught up...
The Core Themes ofÂ SojournÂ Green:
It keeps getting worseâŠ
Dark times encompass the world, a boom in technology and energy has consolidated wealth in the top 1 percent of the population. Massive corporations are like nations unto themselves, possessing private armies and equipment rivaling most world powers. These private armies constantly war with each other, showing little regard for those caught in the crossfire. While people below try to scratch out a living on the scraps left behind, the rich live luxuriously on islands in the sky, supported by great networks of vast tenement buildings and towers.
The Mist is growingâŠ
In the last century, a phenomenon called simply âThe Mistâ swept over the planet. In its weakest concentrations it causes illness and eventually mutation in organic tissue. At its strongest, it causes the body to grow uncontrollably, often breaking bones and producing tumors that rip through flesh.Â Â In the range between, odd creatures have evolved to thrive in these areas. Plant-life as well is twisted and the very ground becomes boggy and unstable in areas with heavy layers of the Mist. A great deal of money and resources was expended to study the Mist after the first disasters, but no cause or cure could be discovered. Only a counter-measure, a force-field generated around living areas, was devised to keep it at bay.
The world is dividedâŠ
Literally and figuratively, the world has been divided. Not only does the Mist cover nearly the entire surface, the precious few places left are subject to periodic âstormsâ when the weather blows the Mist through. And the clouds are growing: safe havens of ten years past have been completely consumed. Compounding this isolation, the stores of Mana-Stone deep within the planet are yielding less stones and new mines are become rarities. Corporations will make nearly any sacrifice to secure mining rights, including ârelocatingâ current residents on mana rich land. Traveling is a luxury most canât afford, or a risk they canât afford to take. The super-rich travel in relative safety in giant airships with state-of-the-art equipment to track and avoid the Mist. Even so, one or two airships never return to port every year. Those that have to travel, including traders, use subterranean highways that connect major cities and the brave (or foolhardy) use âwild-caves.â Paths carved by creatures of various kinds to travel safely below the mists. These creatures are nearly as deadly as the Mist itself.
Sometimes, you go through itâŠ
Despite the expanse of tunnels connecting important places, there are many compelling reasons to travel over ground. First and foremost, sometimes there isnât even a âwild-caveâ passage to take and when there is, you might not want to take it. People need to visit family in barrier-free communities. Although free of the somewhat oppressive environment of the corporate cities, these communities lack for vital supplies and are subject to the constant threat of mist storms and monsters born of the mist. There are two relatively safe methods of traveling to these outlying areas. The first and more popular is traveling with the Caravaners.Â Â These rough and tumble adventurers are treated like rock-stars in the working class community. They carry freight, packages and escort pilgrims for nominal rates, using cobbled together second-hand tech to track the mists. Despite the questionable origin of their gear, they are expert and lose less people than most airlines. A caravan heading out is often like a parade, the Caravaners themselves drive armored vehicles with custom engines and weapons, followed by semis carrying goods and the ramshackle vehicles of pilgrims.
The other option is a bit unsettling.
You are feared and hated, but we need youâŠ
They call them Mist-Touched, Mist-Cursed, emcees or worse. But they call themselves Mist Walkers. Sometimes, when a village or travelers get destroyed by the Mist, there are survivors. They do not mutate physically, but are changed just the same. Something connects them to the Mist and they can sense where it is and where it will go. They favor foot paths that offer multiple options and copious bolt-holes, entrances to wild-caves and Inter-Cities. Due to the nature of their gifts, most people who live behind barriers fear them, but recognize their utility. Although it takes longer traveling with Walkers, they have never lost a party who followed their instructions. Of course, the only one who comes back when Pilgrims donât follow a Walkerâs instructions is the Walker. This doesnât help the general populace trust them. Walkers are tougher than most people; they heal quicker and can shrug off wounds that would cripple mundane folk. Walkers usually bind together in communities forming Clans. Communal living space is shared between the Walkers and whatever family they have left willing to stay with them. These usually number just enough to keep the household running when the Walkers are out. Even when Walkers arenât out on a job, they often feel compelled to roam outside the barriers and even feel uncomfortable in the outlying communities.
The Mist is unnaturalâŠ
Sometimes, it seems the Mist possesses malevolent intent. Caravaners claim that Mist Storms will rise up with no notice or warning from their equipment, as if it were laying in wait or sought them out. Also, the wildlife and unlucky people who suffer exposure to the Mist become twisted and hostile when they donât die outright. These monsters act as though they hate the civilized bastions left in the world, attacking them with great regularity and taking advantage of nearly every incidental lapse in security.
Saturday, July 31, 2010, 6:06 PM
Started up with a new group last night.Â Comprised of the remaining players from my previous campaign and a couple of friends who I hadnât played with lately, the group met at my place and I presented them with the following ice breaker. They seemed to enjoy it and I thought it was worth sharing.
As you travel the Kingâs Road to Winterhaven, you entertain yourselves by entering into debates over trivia and other popular culture. As we begin our adventure, youâve been arguing over who would triumph in battle between Orcus and The Raven Queen.
Â Then I laid out the rules, the only rule was you had to defend your position with a more ludicrous claim than the last one made by the opposing party ala Bill Brasky. Google it, Iâll wait.
Done? Except for the other only rule which is arguments must be made in character. I divided the group in half and assigned one portion the task of advocating for Orcus and the other side, obviously, for the Raven Queen. Then I had them each make a Religion Check and passed out the following information according to the roll achieved.
Raven Queen Lore
The Raven Queen is like smoking hot. But sheâs sort of stuck up and totally thinks sheâs better than everyone.
The Raven Queen once spent a year in Cancun waiting tables at a beach cafĂ©. She told everyone sheâs was writing a book about the people she met there, but really she was just bumming around ducking work.
The Raven Queen can mentally cause falling toast to land butter-side up but sheâs never actually dropped her toast before and wouldnât bother helping anyone else out.
The Raven Queen has eight functioning orifices on her body, but even she isnât sure what they all do. At least one is strictly for storing her car keys.
Orcus is known to have congress with goats and often leaves them with child. These half goat/half Orcus creatures are known as the Chupacabra and make excellent Barbarians.
Orcus has a high regard for opera and often attends disguised as an usher. Orcus once sneezed with his eyes open. The resultant snot gained sentience and this is often thought to be the first living ooze created.
Orcus once dreamed of starring in a series of low-budget heist films as himself entitled Orcus 11. After he assembled a cast, his funding fell through and the project is now in development hell. Literally.
Orcus is hiding in the bathroom.
I presented this information as what their characters knew to be âfactsâ about the subjects of the debate. After I set the tone firmly to âtongue in cheekâ levels, I let the debate begin. At first, each faction simply read the cards I provided them, which although good for my ego, wasnât exactly what Iâd had in mind. But, they exhausted that resource quickly enough and the real debate began as they made stuff up to suit their arguments. I canât recall them all at this point (there were a lot) but highlights included citing an interest in opera as a sign of superior intellect, therefore victory is Orcus. And something about the Raven Queen turning into a giant bird. Or birds.
Anyone else have any good ice-breakers?
Monday, July 26, 2010, 2:40 PM
Sorry I stopped updating this blog. Iâm more than a little lazy. But Iâd like to change that someday.
So the game I began this blog to chronicle from birth to death, wellâŠ died last Friday. I was surprised by that, although my players claim that weâd decided to take a break last weekend, I donât remember that. I recall discussing what weâd do after Craig Lister left (heâs moved to Portland this week), but I didnât realize we âd come to any firm conclusions.
But I guess we did. So besides Craig, D&D Day Couple and Wife (aka Da Boss) both announced that they were going to be leaving as well. Couple are expecting a baby in September and selfishly plan to dedicate allotted gaming time to nurturing and loving the little time-sink. Whatever.
Wife told me sheâs tired and starting to feel burnt out by all the gaming and wants to cut back to one night a week. She chose my other game I run. At least she didnât jump ship for my friendâs game we both play in. I donât know if I could take that sort of rejection.
Iâd typed up a summary of where weâre at and what weâre doing since itâd been so long since I last bothered, but then I hit the back button and erased it so only the internets know what I had typened.
Therefore, you get the ultra-abbreviated version. Eberron. Death Mark on baby. Visions of the past and future. Dragons. Surprisingly less Dungeons. Old yoda-like goblin. Old farting prophecy studying Green dragon. Possibly one-in âthe-same, possibly neither dragon nor goblin. Baby needs protecting. They manage to remove the mark and decide to raise him among the gate-keeper druids anonymously until the day he is ready to face his destiny. The end.
So Iâll have to start anew with the remnants of this group Friendly Neighbor and New Guy (who is actually a young woman and also answered a Craigâs List ad, so maybe we can call her Craigina Lister) and any friends of mine willing to join in. Or Iâll have to be satisfied with one game a week. And the game I play in. And Wednesday encounters. And the new GMâs group I joined. And the convention. And the other convention. And the odd board game I play now and then, a few times a week.
Speaking of conventions, Iâve been thinking about Gen Con a lot this month. I wish I could be there. Last year I won a contest and got to go for the first time. Shelly Mazzanoble was kind enough to arrange it. Well, her and Hasbro, but mostly Shelly. It was an amazing experience and one Iâm confident Iâd never have had without winning that contest. I canât believe itâs already been a year.
Iâm in California and I donât have the kind of money to make the pilgrimage every year. Or probably even every other year. Or maybe ever again. Hopefully, circumstances will change, children will grow older, schools will be graduated from and jobs will be found and excelled at. Then maybe Iâll see that glorious day once again, when I proudly join the throngs of my geek brothers and sisters in celebration of all that is right about gaming. Until then, to those of you who make it, Iâm with you in spirit.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010, 2:48 PM
So with great relish and vindication I charged up to the registration desk and said, âExcuse me, I think the information guy is getting pretty sick of me, so could I ask you a couple questions?â I spoke to a decent enough woman who was polite and sympathetic and basically laid out my whole weekend to her. A dude two booths down broke in to tell me to calm down, and Iâm thinking, âIâm not angry, Iâm freaking relieved that there is now obvious evidence you people are screwing me over â
But I decide just to ignore him because Iâm neither speaking to him in particular and the woman Iâm talking to doesnât seem to be offended by my tone or animated discussion. I think she was named Joyce, but I shall call her Decent Woman Demonstrating a Satisfying Amount of Courtesy and Sympathy or DWDSACS or âDood-Sacks.â So Dood-Sacks tells me that not only is there something awry with my account, but many other people are having the same issues.
Dood-Sacks apologized and said it wasnât just âYour Pretty Faceâ that was causing this to happen. I felt pretty good about that and called my wife to tell her I was basically ready to GTFO.
So I started walking out, again reminded of cinematic moments, this time those movies where the hero leaves, defeated, but somehow still victorious through some secret and hidden inner means.
I was Rocky for like five seconds.
I stopped by the information desk to tell EIM that there was indeed a glitch in the system and he can suck itÂ Not really the last part. He just gave me that same zombie-like, dead fish stare and didnât bother to speak in response. Whatever, I may have my problems, but I have a suspicion this guy makes me look like Richard Gere and John Travoltaâs mutant almagated clone scion. That would be one charismatic crime against humanity.
So hereâs an epilogue brought to you by Less Than Helpful Computer Guy:
Learn from me if you can, laugh at me if you will, but I hope if you read all this, it wasnât as big a waste of your time as DundraCon was mine.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010, 6:50 PM
In the morning, I called my wife and told her I was planning on coming home if I didnât get into anything again. I also gave her a somewhat condensed account of the previous nightâs debacle. My wife is really good at making me feel better and saying nasty things about people who hurt my feelings. It might be my favorite thing about her thatâs fit to mention in mixed company.
So I was a little revived when I bounced out of the elevator to check the postings. Not up yet, and polls werenât closing until 11am, so I wandered around and did some other stuff. I didnât mention it before, but I was now O for 9 as I hadnât gotten into any of the games I signed up for the night before during awesome super fun game. So much for âIn the last five years...â Iâm scrunching up my face and doing like a ânanny nanny poo pooâ thing while I type that, if you need to know.
So 11:45 rolls around and still no posting and one of the games I signed up for started at noon. So, (and I admit this was probably not the smartest thing Iâve ever done) I went back to the information table to treat with EVIL INFO MAN.
EIM gave me the coldest, flattest, most emotionless eyeballing Iâd ever received when I walked up to him. I suspect now that it was by this time heâd realized that DDC had done funked up. More on that very soon. I asked him if he knew when the session results would be posted because I didnât know if I should go wait for the game master and ask him or be late since Iâm waiting for the postings.
This guy is the king of exasperated answers, heâs risen to a level I consider to be almost a fine art. He told me they just stopped taking registration slips at 11am and needed time to tabulate the results. Yah, thatâs great EIM, but how do I know if I should go to this game or not if the results arenât posted before the game starts?
But I donât say half the smart-alecky things that run through my head (I write them here for you ) So I just nodded and slunk dejectedly away to check the game room for answers. I found none there, but by the time I walked back to the boards, theyâd posted the results.
Do you recall in movies when they zoom into focus, but it appears that itâs the background thatâs moved and not the camera? Well that effect ( if you donât know) is achieved by moving the camera forward while zooming out with the lens, giving the appearance of the background rushing up to converge with the foreground and subject of the shot. If you can imagine feeling that happen to you, thatâs close to what it felt like when I saw the board.
My name, (no longer surprisingly) was nowhere to be seen. What was there were two of the games I had signed up for, boasting empty slots needing filling. WTF?
Sunday, February 21, 2010, 1:15 PM
The last straw fell on my back at the climax of the adventure when we reached a cabin in the woods we intended to breach to capture the villain of the story.
Everyone was going around the table describing how they intended to enter the cabin or not enter the cabin and when it came to my turn, Loud Yelling in my Face Obnoxious Guy told me to stay put. This game ran long. So at eight hours plus of listening to this guy literally scream in my face, he turns to me and says âYou canât play in our reindeer games.â I also have to admit, I had a drink an hour previous, which probably didnât increase my restraint.
So I tried to reason with him, (in character of course) that Iâd invested years preparing for this and had gone through three days of hell to reach the cabin and I would be God-Damned if Iâd stand outside and watch you storm the castle. And true to how heâd been reacting all night (Of course, in character) he refused to be swayed, simply stating âI press my carbine into his chest.â
I will admit, I flipped the flip out like a flippinâ flip out flipper. I felt like Michael Keaton in Batman when Bruce Wayne confronts the Joker in Vicki Valeâs apartment. âYou wanna get nuts?Â OkÂ Letâs get nuts â
I basically stopped the whole game and said I am really not interested in player versus player conflict or sitting out of the climax of the adventure. Loud Guy and the Game Master start telling me that I canât have both.
Wait, stop, I canât play the game without fighting with the other players? I have to fight tooth and nail with the people around me just to participate? You know what, Loud Guy and Game Master? That is utter tripe. That is bullying.
If you're going to put yourself out there at a convention and run something, you have to be prepared to accomodate different play styles. If that's beyond your abilities, at the very least you shouldn't insist all players adopt such an agressive play style. That's just a horrible position to back someone into.
I was up front, I was honest and I said at the very beginning that I prefer not to participate in serious conflict between characters. I donât mind simulated conflict, that is fun, but when I find myself being restricted by the actions of other characters, I donât have fun. So why would I play?
Game Master and Loud Why is he Screaming Every Word he Utters Directly in my Ear Guy had plenty of opportunities to tell me that I would have to either put up with it or excuse myself. I would have appreciated such a disclaimer because I bet there were gamers who really wanted to be in my situation in that game and I truly wish theyâd been afforded the opportunity. Because it made me miserable (most definitely not in character).
Saturday, February 20, 2010, 4:44 PM
Hereâs a skill challenge I want to use in my home game. Itâs intended to be a little light-hearted, like one of those comedies where they transpose an action hero into a traditionally matriarchal role like teaching, daycare, or some other stereotype. Disclaimer: I have children and love them dearly, but I've also learned to laugh about what a "challenge" raising them has been so far and promises to be in the years to come.
Skill Challenge: Babysitting
Complexity:Â 2 (requires 6 successes before 3 failure)
Diplomacy (moderate DC by level): The character soothes the baby with kind words and reassuring platitudes such as âYou can be anything you want when you grow up.â and âYou are a unique and beautiful snowflake.â Failure indicates the child realizes he isn't particular special and will probably grow up to be a peasant, inheriting his father's Kruthik farm.
Endurance (group roll, easy DC by level): At the end of each round, all players must make an Endurance check because raising a child is hard! If more succeed than fail, they gain a success in the challenge. If more fail than succeed, they lose a healing surge and swear a celibacy oath together.
Heal (hard DC by level): The character is able to accurately diagnose what ailment is making the baby fussy. He also knows an effective home remedy which probably requires a smelly salve be rubbed somewhere unpleasant (DMâs discretion where and on whom, the baby or the character). This skill can only be used after a successful perception check.
History (easy DC by level): The character distracts and entertains the baby with an amusing story of historical events, or a beautiful fairy tale that ends âhappily ever after...until they had kids.â
Religion (hard DC by level): The character prays for patience and strength from their Deity. With a success, it is surprisingly answered and the child quiets for a time.
Perception (moderate DC by level): The character notices that not only is this baby fussy, he seems to be unusually so. The character suspects there is something at the root of this beyond a wet diaper and empty belly. Perhaps the child is possessed.
Insight (easy DC by level): The character accurately infers the babyâs immediate needs and can tend them. This confers the next characterâs attempt a +2 bonus.
Intimidate (You canât yell at a baby, thatâs just wrong. If they insist itâs an automatic failure and the Intimidating player takes a -4 to his next check.)
Youâre stuck with this kid for the night and youâre not exactly the nurturing type. Or perhaps you are but this kid doesnât seem too interested in being nurtured. He seems more excited about staying up and screaming. Joy.
Succeeding in the challenge allows the characters to take an undisturbed extended rest. Failure denies them this luxury. The plan I have is to throw this at them after a long day on the run with the child, right after they finally arrive at a location they can safely hole up for the night. Mwahaha.
P.S. At work today a doctor asked me a question and I didnât know the answer. Quite honestly, I said, âI donât know, youâre the doctor.â For some reason this offended him. I didnât realize it could be taken that way, I always considered it a pretty innocuous cliche. In reflection, however, it does sort of have an accusatory tone.
Friday, February 19, 2010, 11:38 AM
So I got the last pick of characters because I was the second of two late adds. I was designated to play a scholarly professor with knowledge of the occult. Knowledge I was inclined to conceal because the other characters were strangers and lawmen who apparently were fed misinformation for some reason. Now I would have been happy to divulge everything I knew, but even when I hinted at it they vehemently (in character of course) insisted that nothing supernatural was occurring.
This, I felt, was well roleplayed and not really a problem. The problem was, no one was satisfied with the answers I gave them because when I told the truth, they accused me of insanity, when I demurred, they accused me of being up to treachery.
Anytime I tried to do anything, literally any act at all, they would start peppering me with questions about my motivations, (in character of course). Any other time they interacted with me, it was to grill me about the exact nature of our mission and they were NEVER satisfied with my answers. As I noted above. (Of course, all in character)
This was an eight hour game and I tried my best to be a good sport for eight hours. I let them send me to my tent like a child, I let them refuse to allow me take a watch when we camped which was when all the cool spooky stuff happened. I was even going to allow them to deny me any physical means to defend my character, but I was encouraged by another player (who was really swingy about how he treated me) to stand up for myself and buy the gun. So I did end up with a pistol.
Any time I really wanted to do something, I felt like my only option was to be a complete a-hole about it, because I had zero room to operate. I was forced to either pass notes, or argue with the really loud guy anytime I wanted to participate in the game. (All in character, of course) And when I brought this up with a âout of characterâ disclaimer they looked at me like I was ruining everything.
I asked them, "is there some way I could get a gun that would satisfy both our characterâs wishes?" Or, "could we stop talking about why weâre here so much? I know just as much as you," with the exception of the occult information they refused to allow me to impart. (In character)
The GM just told me what I was saying was a very "in character" thing. I didn't really follow that line of reasoning.
Thursday, February 18, 2010, 4:28 PM
Over the years gaming groups develop their own short hand, inside jokes and catch phrases. I wanted to share some with you and invite you to do the same.
The âHey Kool-Aid!â
This maneuver is usually perpetrated by a Dungeon Master when the adventurers are being particularly overconfident, cocky and annoying. Achieved by sending in a Zombie Hulk, through a nearby wall, into an encounter already in motion. Usually results in a delicious round of âNooooes!â from the table. Variations include using other large (or bigger) creatures (Purple Worms are the ultimate âHey Kool-Aid!â) and, to a lesser extent, player characters will sometimes smash through walls.
We were doing fine until the DM pulled a âHey Kool-Aid!â on us. Marcus was buried in the rubble before we even knew what was coming through the wall.
The Wookie ManeuverÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
Any plan involving the adventurers disguising themselves as the enemy in order to infiltrate a stronghold. The best âWookie Maneuversâ include bringing the muscle (who doesnât fit in normal clothes) into the fortifications disguised as a prisoner. Successful preparation of a âWookieâ (proper disguises, props and good roleplaying) grants the adventurers a +5 to all bluff checks because it amuses me. The bonus is null if they have to use some sort of communications array. And if itâs a rescue mission, I cannot be held accountable if I deliver some variation of the âarenât you a little shortâ line.
We had to put the Goliath in manacles to pull it off, but we Wookie Maneuvered right in there.
Also known as âTactical Repositioning of our Resources,â and the âGTFO.â Admittedly a rare occurrence at my table, but often joked about, Plan B refers to the standing accepted practice of fleeing when our mighty, mighty blows donât seem to be having great effect.
This looks grim. Plan B?
Anyone using out of game knowledge in game (Metagaming) while trying to conceal that fact with a flimsy reasoning as to why their character is behaving in the manner he is. The original example occurred when a player at my table noticed I had put my custom Squid miniature into the âGreen Roomâ and later asked some very strange questions about a wrecked ship the party discovered on the river.
Justin: Are there any signs the boat was attacked?
DM: Yes, itâs been sunk.
Justin: Can I tell by what?
DM: Something large enough to sink a boat Iâd suppose. Nothing seems to be really standing out to you at the moment.
Justin: Are there any Squid Tracks?
DM: Iâm not sure what tracks a squid would leave.
Justin: Like little circles on the hull?