The Weird West: Character sampler

When I write vignettes, I tend to write very little about the central protagonist, they are after all the point of view by which I want to show the world I am writing about, and generally the camera cannot see itself. Character and motivations can be inferred from how they speak and what they do in the scene, but I don’t spend time and effort to describe them physically and rarely do I state any overt motivation. I prefer show don’t tell. This allows the reader to project themselves and their ideas about the POV character. John Scalzi did something rather clever with his Lock In series’ main character (which if you haven’t read, I won’t spoil things here. GO READ THEM) but I’m not attempting that level of writing talent. I like writing the short teasers and paragraph intros that begin a chapter, give you a taste of the world and context before diving into the mechanics of a game. 

Having said all that, I do need to work on my characterizations. So here’s some write ups about some characters concepts from the Weird West setting, including some from the teaser post. I’m also going to try and write in the vernacular and ‘voice’ of the people of this setting, as if they were describing each other in their own way. No game stats here, but I instead provide qualitative statements about their abilities and talents which should be easily translatable into whatever game engine they could appear in.

Malcolm Solomani, Arcanist and Wayfarer

Malcolm has been a wanderer his entire life. His earliest memories are of riding in the back of a wagon train and never seeing the same town twice. He remembers his guardian, whom he called ‘Grandfather,’ teaching him rituals and arcane secrets. His last memory of Grandfather was helping with a ritual and something going very wrong. Wrong as in explosions, memory loss, and waking up alone somewhere entirely different. Malcolm has been searching for answers to what happened since. 

Malcolm is a talented Arcanist, and Wayfarer. He is a seasoned traveller, camper and rider. He has a talent for languages and has traveled far and wide across the Territories. He has a strong sense of right and wrong and hates injustice. 

Grunner Brock, the Sturmgunner

Grunner is a recent emigree to the new world, but things he has said imply his native lands are not the same old world that most other people know of; His skill with exotic Volt-based technologies surpass just about anyone else’s yet he claims only mediocre knowledge of the science. When he speaks of his past, which is rare, he’ll sometimes mention a recent war that doesn’t match up with common knowledge of history; That he was a soldier in that war, and it was in that conflict he learned to tinker with sturmtech as he calls it. Grunner is large man of germanic descent, his speech is thick with a Deutchlander accent and he often slips fully into his native tongue. He can initially come off as standoffish, but warms up considerably once he has learned to trust someone. He travels the Territories hunting, prospecting for minerals and crystals, and helping those he deems in need. His compatriots gather in their travels with him that Grunner is eternally seeking redemption for something that happened in the past, but he has never spoken of what that event (or events) were. 

Grunner has a soldier’s field skills for camping and survival. He is an excellent marksman, especially with his charge-rifle, and is constantly tinkering with various Volt-tech devices which he can cobble together into useful gadgets. 

Red Feather, the shifter scout

Red Feather comes from a tribe of semi-nomadic people who regularly travel between a small range of Territories as the seasons change. Red Feather is a Shifter; he can turn into animals that he has formed a special bond with via ritual taught to him by the medicine people of his tribe. He is on his Wandering, which is a coming-of-age experience for youths of his people: he is to travel far and wide and return when he has learned something profound to bring back to his people. Red Feather is young, energetic and occasionally reckless, but always well meaning and positive in attitude. He loves good stories and is learning to write with the intent of bringing back not only literacy to his people, but also many more good stories to tell around the campfires.

Red Feather is young, but already an excellent scout, rider and hunter. His preferred tools are bow and spear, but he’s learning how to use firearms.

Irinia Gardenia, former farmer with a grudge

Irinia Gardenia has what she thought of as an ideal life. She had married an earnest man who offered her the challenge of raising a farm and family in a new settlement. It had been hard but rewarding work, and the addition of their first child was a welcome complication. Then the war happened, and their Territory became a battleground. Soldiers occupied their farm, did unspeakable things before she blacked out.

When she awoke the farm house had been burned to the ground but it seemed to have happened a long time ago. Now there is a voice in her head, urging her to find those responsible. Promising to help her make them pay. Whispers secrets to her. When she does what the voice wants, she gets stronger. Weirder. 

To all appearances, Irinia looks like an average young frontier woman. She’s had experience raising animals and keeping a household in order, but little beyond that. However in truth she’s made a pact with a spirit of vengeance, which grants her tremendous strength and speed when it wishes to, among other dark powers. The more she uses these powers, and gives in to its insidious goading, the stronger it gets. One day she will come to a line in the sand: will she retain any shred of humanity left and turn against this demon within her, or will she give in and be destroyed in the process.

Kerrigan “Kerry” Goodhand, Gambler and trickster

“Kerry” has a long history of trouble. With family, with the law, with the laws of probability itself it seems. To get out of a forced marriage, Kerrigan Godfry became ‘Kerry Goodhand’ and stole away on a caravan from New London deeper into the Territories. ‘He’ soon discovered he had a talent for playing card games, games of chance, really anything that involved luck and has made a living as a gambler and con artist since. There’s actually a bounty to return “Kerrigan” home, but he has changed looks so often he doesn’t recognize the portrait in the wanted posters.

“Kerry” presents as a svelte man, impeccably dressed. Kerry is an expert gambler and experienced traveler. He knows how to fight with fists and knives, and while can use guns doesn’t like them. They are also skilled at disguise and fashion.

Kerry’s Gift is that he has incredible luck. When he concentrates, he can pretty much dictate the outcome of the roll of dice, or draw of cards. It’s exhausting and the more he uses this power, the worse the karmic balance comes later to bite him on the ass.

Padre Esteban, Buckshot priest

Esteban Villenova always believed. He left home early to pursue seminary and returned home an ordained padre. However the home he returned to was now beset by horrors and unnatural happenings. One night as he led his congregation in prayers for protection from the things clawing at the church’s doors, he had a vision of an angel of the creator who handed him a gun. Awakening from his enlightenment, Padre Esteban got himself two shotguns just in time as the walking dead broke down the church’s doors. Padre Esteban learned that day that faith and prayer will get you far, and for the rest you need double-o buckshot.

Padre Esteban is a stoic and supportive person, freely offering benediction and jovial advice together. He possesses a righteous fury however, and fearlessly rightens wrongs, choosing to send unrepentant sinners and threats to his community ‘to the creator, so they can be judged.’

Esteban’s gift is his faith. He honestly and truthfully believes in a benevolent creator who acts through boons to the faithful and answers prayers. He alone can invoke some impressive effects, but when he gets a congregation to pray together, miracles can and have happened. It’s a difficult path he walks, but he does it proudly.

Hazel Moonseer, Planeswitch with a ferncat familiar

Hazel comes from a long line of witches. Her family just happens to have moved out to the frontier Territories instead of staying back east with the established covens. She’s old enough that her elders are starting to pressure her to settle down and start the next generation. Hazel isn’t sure she’s ready for her Matron years. Having finally come of age and level of skill she thinks she’s ready to experience the world beyond her home plots and make a difference. After all, if her ancestors could thrive in these wild lands, how is she going to show her worthiness? 

Hazel is a young and talented arcanist and herbalist. She’s experienced with frontier life and can hunt and shoot and camp. She prefers pants and vests over dresses, and her grimoire and herbalist kit are never far from her grasp.

Willowisp, her ferncat familiar, is a green feline about the size of a Serval cat (up to 24” tall and 20 to 40 lbs. in weight ). Ferncats aren’t plants, but their luxurious green fir naturally forms fern-like structures and thus their name was given. Willowisp is very clever and sociable, but is also a cat, so don’t expect human-rational responses. Willowisp is an excellent hunter, guardian and scout. She’s very intelligent and can understand the intent of human speech, but not complex ideas (she’ll understand ‘Fetch the red bag,’ but not ‘Go get the dynamite and blasting caps.’). Hazel and Willowisp know where each other is at all times, and they constantly know each other’s emotional and physical well being as well. When Hazel concentrates, she can sense what Willowisp can.

Vernian Wells, Wandering Hexorcist

Vernian is a wandering hex breaking exorcist. He could teach volumes on what he knows about supernatural evils and how to defeat them at the major religious institutes, if he weren’t ex-communique for breaking their rules. Vernian doesn’t give a damn, he’s got work to do. The scar-like patterns branded into his arms itch and burn and glow in the presence of evil spirits and demons. Ghosts from his past drive him to keep scouring the Territories and he cannot stop while he feels the itch in his scars. Hunting and destroying evil magic and spirits is both his curse, and his salvation.

Vernian Wells appears as a gaunt man in well worn travel clothes. While skilled at shooting and fighting his best skills are in knowledge of the supernatural, rituals of binding and breaking spells and hexes, and making fetishes and trinkets for protection and utility against non-human threats. 

Tisiphone “Tish” Allegloria, Frontier Alchemist and brewmeister

The Allegloria’s are a famous, if small, family of brewmeisters and vinters. “Tish” is the prodigal daughter of the family, having left the comforts of Nuova Toscana to bring the family's products and name brand to the new world. She’s also on a personal mission to discover what herbal and floral opportunities lay unknown in the Territories. She's eager to uncover their potential uses, both alchemical and alchoholic. Tish is a glorious being of energy and reckless enthusiasm. Seemingly irrepressible in spirit, even her ‘low’ moments are soon replaced with joyous highs that the future hold for her. Tish is not only a skilled brewmaster and vinter, but also a very talented alchemist. She's never without a pouch of tinctures, potions, and brews. She’s new frontier life, but she’s got the financial backing of her clan so is always prepared, even if she doesn’t know one end of a rifle from the other. 

The Weird West: A setting teaser

 “They took her,” Mama Berthold wept as I finished placing the last bandage on Paw Berthold’s wounds. He’d be down a few days, maybe a week, but he’d be laid up the entire time.

“Sweet little Mayabelle?” I asked and she nodded miserably.

The Bertholds were good people. Farmers who made their plot with a handful of other families in the Wind River Territory. They always had some spare food and a place to home your mount for the night for travelers. They didn’t deserve this.

“Tell me about them. The ones who took Mayabelle.”

The Territories -that is what people generally call them- are overlapping pockets of reality. The more arcane minded might call them ‘interconnected demiplanes’, and those with a more natural philosophical training would say something about ‘liminal spaces’. Some are tiny, little more than a meadow or a mountain pass, others so large their edges have yet been found. In some Territories people ride Raptors and rely on ‘Brontos as beasts of burden, in others you’ll find that herds of Diremares dominate the lands (imagine a draft horse combined with a T-Rex and you’re almost right). Those who live in the Territories call them various descriptive and ontological names. E.g. “The Red Steppes,” “Great Eagles’ Mountain,” “The Evernight Glades,” “Banners Hold” and so on. 

The kidnappers were ex-Westos soldiers who’d turned to banditry after The War ended. The Berthold’s had offered them some food and fodder for their ‘mares out of common courtesy, trading for stories and rumors from outside Wind River. Later that evening the bandits had returned with sour intent, beaten Paw Berthold and kidnapped young Mayabelle. She had been a child the last time I had been by this way, but she was a maiden now. A temptation too great for hungry men without a nation to marshall them.

The bandits had left tracks that Heelnipper could easily follow, leading to the edge of the Wind River Territory and seemingly stopped at the edge of a forest. There was a Way here, and not one of the normal ones into or out of Wind River. I dismounted from Heelnipper and poked around until I felt the edge of the hidden Way. 

Wayfinding is difficult to explain to those without the Gift. Each Wayfinder does it a little differently. For myself, I’ll feel something out of place. In this case it was the smell: the air suddenly smelled differently. Rather than the pine and mossy grounds of Wind River, I smelled sandstone and dryness. That was my clue to how this particular Way works. 

The New World was colonized by refugees, pilgrims and explorers who braved the great ocean west of the Old World for the promise of freedom and opportunity. What they discovered was that while the eastern parts of the New World were static, the farther west you went the … stranger the land got. If there’s a west coast to this continent, nobody’s claimed to have found it yet, but plenty have set out to and have never returned. Some Territories could be walked to and between easily enough, and well-established trails and roads were established. Other Territories required more esoteric means to traverse, known as Ways. Finding and using rare Ways what Wayfarers have the gift for.

Opening the Way was simple once I knew the clue: I found the sandstones that lay next to each other that were out of place in the Wind River Territory. They were oblate round rocks. The larger one had a scratched flat space upon its top and the smaller was flat on the bottom. Stacking the smaller one on the larger triggered the Way. The air between two great trees shimmered, and rocky canyon lands could be seen beyond the veil between Territories.

People of all kinds, colors and creeds live in the Territories. They mostly live peacefully in their chosen Territories, but banditry, tribal rivalry and other common human frictions abound. A decade ago the Great War ended, and nothing approaching the size and scope of that conflict has happened since. Some Territories still bear the scars of that vast and terrible conflict. 

The various Peoples of the Territories often have magical gifts. There are Shamans who talk to the spirits of the land; Elementalists who bend forces of fire, earth, air and water; Arcanists who perform highly esoteric magic rituals; Shifters who can turn into animals. Just to name a few. Wayfarers have the gift of finding the Ways between Territories.

I didn’t recognize the Territory beyond, but it was like many other canyonlands I had visited before. Grunner muttered in his Old World tongue something annoyed about sand. When I looked at him, he shrugged his huge shoulders and said in common with his thick Deutchlander accent: “I hate sand in my boots.”

Red Feather, our tracker friend, chuckled. “Don’t worry about sand, my big friend” he said, spurring his mount forward, “Watch for snakes instead! They like sleeping in warm boots at night.”

Grunner spurred his mount to follow, growling aloud: “Then let’s not take all day to do this.”

We rode into the canyonlands.

It is also an age of technological advancement and industrialization: steam and lighting engines power vehicles and factories, gunpowder and zapcaps empower firearms like revolvers and chain-rifles (chained lighting that is); telegraph lines and babbage machines connect one end of a Territory to the other with nearly instant communication, but couriers are still needed between Territories. 

The bandits were camped in a cul-de-sac offshoot of the winding canyons. Grunner and I lay on the top of the rocky walls surrounding their encampment, watching from above. A lone eagle soared overhead, circling. It had been morning when we entered the canyonlands, and now night was not long off. The bandits had posted no sentries, no guards at the entrance to their hiding place. They clearly had great confidence in the difficulty of finding this Territory, let alone their little corner among the rocks. But there were more of them than I expected. The bunch that had assaulted the Bertholds had been but a small raiding party. There was probably a whole platoon down there.

The eagle glid down somewhere behind us, but it was Red Feather who quietly snuck up to join us. “Many fighting men. They corral their horses in the back of the canyon. The only tent that is guarded is in the middle. The girl is probably there,” he reported. 

I nodded. We needed a plan, and I had a few ideas brewing.

“Grunner, get that electric rifle of yours. Setup up here and be ready to cover us. Red Feather, you and I are going to sneak into the camp, cause a diversion - I’m thinking a stampede off their horses- free the girl and then we all get the hell out of here.”

They both nodded.

“Good. Let’s get going.” 

Intro to the '52 in 2025' project

Since I want to become a better writer, I have to write more. A lot. Practice makes perfect and all that. So for 2025, I’m taking on a project of writing and posting an article every week for all of 2025. Thus this “52 in 2025” project was coined. My hope is to hone my writing reflexes and skills, so that I am able to draw upon them more on demand, rather than depend on luck and inspiration to make progress. 

And since I am a gamer, it makes sense to write stuff about gaming: Settings, Mechanics, Characters, Locales and so on. At this point of planning, I have over thirty posts planned, and I’ll be adding more to the to-do list as time goes by (i’ll need at least two dozen more to meet my goal by the end of the year). While I am mostly a sci-fi kinda guy, I am also trying to expand my fantasy and modern writing experience, so things will skip around a lot. Game systems will also vary a lot; I am a systems junkie and love encountering and learning new gaming systems.

As for you, my audience, please like and comment as you see fit. I thrive on feedback and support, even simple ‘likes.’ That and any ideas/requests that you come up with, please share.

Thanks in advance.