Wednesday, August 24, 2022

First Course, Doppelgangers

Evan Yao

Appetizer, Doppelgangers

INT. CRAB DUNGEON. GYMNASIUM 11 

The gymnasium has gothic styled vaulted ceiling and is the size of a cathedral. Where one would expect windows, there are instead large motivational posters and charts explaining nutrition and health. Throughout Gymnasium 11 are floor mats and scattered obstacle courses. Several pairs of hodgepodge humanoid creatures are sparring. In one corner, DEREK observes a vicious match between a lithe and scarred elf and LISETTE

Both figures are stalking in a circle around one another, striking and parrying as opportunity arises. The elf's rapier bites and stabs as LISETTE parries with her dagger and ducks, swinging into openings and leaping over rebuttals. With a flurry of action, LISETTE steps to the left of a rapier aimed for her heart and presses her dagger against the elf's neck. 

DEREK: Coo.

Elf and human draw back and sheathe their weapons before bowing to one another. CRAB suddenly appears behind DEREK, clapping for LISETTE

LISETTE: Master CRAB, a surprise to see you down here. How was my performance? 

DEREK: Coo. 

CRAB: Yeah, gotta say you've been getting better. It's only been a few weeks and you're slashing and stabbing with the best of them. 

LISETTE: It is all thanks to Sir DEREK's tutelage and your kindness in providing these facilities.

LISETTE glances around the room suddenly. 

LISETTE: Has something... changed? 

CRAB: Oh, yeah, narrative format just shifted left a bit, trying something new. Don't worry about it. 

LISETTE: Once more, I am afraid that I am at a loss to the ways of wizards. With how my training is proceeding, when do you think I will be strong enough to return and defeat the face-stealing monsters? 

CRAB: Doppelgangers. Well, your fighting skills are much improved and you've rested long enough. It's high time we start teaching you about just what it is that you're up against. You two finish up and meet me in Lecture Hall 4. 

INT. CRAB DUNGEON. LECTURE HALL 4

Two hundred empty chairs and desks are arranged in rows, sloping down on a slight incline and facing a long wooden stage with a podium to one side and a projector screen set in the middle. LISETTE enters the room and finds a seat in the middle rows. 

Just as she sits down, CRAB enters the room, followed by a parade of skeletons who file in to empty chairs across the hall. 

CRAB: Don't mind them. I work better with an audience and they could use the exercise. So, let's get to it. There may be some things you don't understand just now, but one day you may come to uncover their meaning. Now, on to the show.

The projector hums to life. 

FIRST DISH: ORIGINS

Mark Wojhan

Ere Babylon was dust,

The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child, 

Met his own image walking in the garden. 

That apparition, sole of men, he saw. 

For know there are two worlds of life and death: 

One that which thou beholdest; but the other 

Is underneath the grave, where do inhabit 

The shadows of all forms that think and live 

Till death unite them and they part no more

-Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound, lines 191–199

CRAB: So, what is a doppelganger?

LISETTE: Those monsters that attacked me. They are face stealers. Horrible, frightful creatures that mimic people's behaviors and likenesses.

CRAB: Well, that's certainly a sort of doppelganger. You see, throughout history the doppelganger has had a most curious evolution, and eventually when D&D came about, the doppelganger saw its first implementation in tabletop play with the Greyhawk supplement in 1975 and has been pretty consistently included just about everywhere.

LISETTE: ... what is an RPG? Did this Gary create these monsters? What does a gray hawk have to do with this?

CRAB: Oh, right, fourth wall. Maybe we should go a bit further back in time and start at the beginning.

LISETTE: Will that tell me how to defeat them?

CRAB: All in good time. First, we need to establish a common contextual basis to work our discussions from. O Wraith of Research, Mad and Rabid, I unshackle you now that you may present us your findings!

The projector howls in torment and sputters as violent and oily black smoke pours out and the presentation begins.

We'll use the more common spelling present in RPG media of doppelganger as opposed to the German doppelgänger, which would be broadly more accurate as the term originates from the German Romanticist period as a central trope in gothic literature. The author Jean Paul coined the term in the 1796 novel Siebenkäs, wherein an unhappy marriage is ended when the husband fakes his own death (Fonseca). In the footnotes we have the beginning of the literary term doppelganger which Jean Paul initially defines as:

so heissen sie Leute die sie [sich] selbst sehen
"so people who see themselves are called"

The word itself can be translated as "double goer" and doppelgangers or the habit of seeing oneself appears to have become more common in the Enlightenment era. E.T.A. Hoffmann continues the budding tradition with his story "Die Doppeltgänger" in 1821 and then, more famously, with Die Elixiere des Teufels (The Devil's Elixir) and "The Sand-Man" in his collection Nachtstücken. Truly, the list of 1800s doppelganger stories goes on and on, with Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886), Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Double (1846), Hans Christian Andersen's The Shadow (1847) and, most in line with the modern concept of the doppelganger, in Edgar Allen Poe's "William Wilson" (1839). 

These Enlightenment era incarnations of the doppelganger are certainly not the earliest conception of the idea of a double. There are a variety of claims to the mythological origin of doppelgangers and doubles[1], as Otto Rank attests in "Der Doppelgaenger" (1914) that ancient traditions and folklore held the double as the first conception of the soul, related to beliefs that the shadow was a second self. In the last two hundred years there have been continuing folk tales surrounding Catherine the Great who is alleged to have seen her double and had her soldiers shoot at it until it disappeared (Sherman), Abraham Lincoln who saw his doppelganger in a mirror (Borchard), and of course Percy Bysshe Shelley. Shelley's account gives us a most thorough examination of the doppelganger, and one that will ring familiar to modern audiences. Let's have a read of his famous encounter as recorded by Mary Shelley:

"...Williams went to Shelley, who had been wakened by my getting out of bed—he said that he had not been asleep, and that it was a vision that he saw that had frightened him. 

But as he declared that he had not screamed, it was certainly a dream, and no waking vision. What had frightened him was this. He dreamt that, lying as he did in bed, Edward and Jane came in to him; they were in the most horrible condition; their bodies lacerated, their bones starting through their skin, their faces pale yet stained with blood; they could hardly walk, but Edward was the weakest, and Jane was supporting him. Edward said, “Get up, Shelley, the sea is flooding the house, and it is all coming down.” Shelley got up, he thought, and went to his window that looked on the terrace and the sea, and thought he saw the sea rushing in. Suddenly his vision changed, and he saw the figure of himself strangling me; that had made him rush into my room, yet, fearful of frightening me, he dared not approach the bed, when my jumping out awoke him, or, as he phrased it, caused his vision to vanish. 

All this was frightful enough, and talking it over the next morning, he told me that he had had many visions lately; he had seen the figure of himself, which met him as he walked on the terrace and said to him, “How long do you mean to be content?” no very terrific words, and certainly not prophetic of what has occurred. But Shelley had often seen these figures when ill; but the strangest thing is that Mrs. Williams saw him. Now Jane, though a woman of sensibility, has not much imagination, and is not in the slightest degree nervous, neither in dreams nor otherwise. She was standing one day, the day before I was taken ill, at a window that looked on the terrace, with Trelawny. It was day. She saw, as she thought, Shelley pass by the window, as he often was then, without a coat or jacket; he passed again. Now, as he passed both times the same way, and as from the side towards which he went each time there was no way to get back except past the window again (except over a wall 20 feet from the ground), she was struck at her seeing him pass twice thus, and looked out and seeing him no more, she cried, “Good God, can Shelley have leapt from the wall? Where can he be gone?” “Shelley,” said Trelawny, “no Shelley has passed. What do you mean?” Trelawny says that she trembled exceedingly when she heard this, and it proved, indeed, that Shelley had never been on the terrace, and was far off at the time she saw him. Well, we thought no more of these things, and I slowly got better."

- The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Aleksandra Waliszewska

From these letters, we can see Percy Bysshe Shelley's doppelganger encounters were of the nefarious nature, as he encounters visions of his doppelganger strangling Mary Shelley as well as his doppelganger asking, which I can only read with the thickest layers of Victorian sarcasm and disgust at the subject, "When will you be content?". It is this version of the doppelganger, cruel and exhibiting behaviors contrary to the primary subject's asserted ego, which would continue to set the world of gothic literature alight.

We also have the "identical person" tales appearing around the same era. Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities (1859) sees no occult or anomalous means, rather just two people who look the same. These sorts of stories have the doppelganger function not as a beast, but instead a contrivance to allow a plot twist in one way or another, a common plot in our time will have the people who look the same commit a crime in the name of the other and get away with it. On the lighter side, there is the "separated from birth" trope which we can see in media from Shakespeare's A Comedy of Errors (1594) all the way to The Parent Trap (1998). These cases, again, are not the monstrous identity stealing doppelgangers, but instead alter egos or just look a likes. For our purposes, these do not count as doppelgangers as they are rarely used to do something key to the role of the monster- challenge a sense of personal identity.

Back to this early on the idea of a doppelganger as being distinct from a double or shadow, this begins taking route in culture as the gothic writers continue to take hold. So, what is this creature that haunts these varied Victorian era writers? "It is necessary to be clear about the nature of the true double, or Doppelganger. The Doppelganger is a second self, or alter ego, which appears as a distinct and separate being apprehensible by the physical senses (or at least, by some of them), but exists in a dependent relation to the original ... often the double comes to dominate, control, and usurp the functions of the subject’’ (Vardoulakis) and to this we add on some sprinkling of Ralph Tymms thoughts that the doppelganger has an emphasis placed on "the magical, occult, psychical, or psychological qualities" of the double (Tymms). 

Taken together, we get the rough diagram of what the early conception of the doppelganger was. A second self or alter ego that is separate from the self (but does not exist without the self), and desires to usurp or control the self. This second self is magical, occult, or otherwise anomalously linked to the self. 

Fonesca, T
Our definition fits many a literary doppelganger, a classic case being that of Dostoevsky's The Double, wherein a low level bureaucrat encounters his doppelganger one day and eventually goes mad as his doppelganger tries to take control of his life. He does everything better, is better liked, and this slowly drives the main character insane. The implication from Dostoevsky's take though is not a monstrous creature infecting the life of a poor man, but of the man going mad, losing his identity and going mad- seeing others as himself [2]. This projected doppelganger, i.e. the double is not really you, continues throughout history and can be seen again, in another form, in David Fincher's 1999 film version of Chuck Palahnuk's Fight Club (1996). For our purposes, we can throw the Fincher classic into the "alter ego" trope bin, but the threads connecting these works are quite clear.

As far as film doppelganger go, there's a long history of their use. Aside from the notables already discussed, I would like to highlight some more recent examples. Notably, It Follows. In this 2014 horror film directed by David Mitchell, the doppelganger is definitively more in the supernatural/occult sphere. A curse afflicts people in this film, and it can be transferred to someone else through sex. We'll set aside the thematic implications of this for others to discuss and instead focus on the doppelganger itself. It can only be seen by those with the curse or who have had it before. The doppelganger moves forward, towards the person afflicted with the curse, until it reaches them- then kills them brutally. Normally, the doppelganger takes on the form of a stranger [3], appearing as a random person in a crowd determinedly walking towards the afflicted person. There are notable cases though where the entity displays some degree of, if not sentience then at least a desire to cause emotional distress, such as when the creature takes on the form of the main character's deceased, nude father- or when it takes on the form of another character's mother before killing him. Again, the themes of the film are worth analysis- but not here. 

A commonality amongst doppelgangers is to use the appearance of loved ones to cause distress, usually through assuming the form of a loved one or the subject themself, creating an abjection of identity. This crisis creates a sense of the uncanny, that you are not who you think you are, disrupting the presumed order of the world.

LISETTE: Who are all of these people? 

CRAB: Just wait, I think the Wraith is going to start in on the good stuff now.

LISETTE: Is this going to help me defeat these doppelgangers?

CRAB: That's the idea. I find learning the histories and inner workings of something can better prepare you for it.  

CRAB, ASIDE: Or, for some nebulous amount of you out there, provide ideas on how best to use and apply monsters like this.

LISETTE: This Wraith of Research sounds a good deal like you.

Yes. Now let's discuss the Freud of it all.

SECOND DISH: A HELPING OF THE UNCANNY

So, just why are doppelgangers so common in horror media? As we have seen, the idea existed before Gygax first introduced it with the Grayhawk supplement, but why? What's the reason that the doppelganger is so unsettling- so frightening? Let's take a diversion and talk about the things that spook us and why they do it. Let's start with an example to work with; here's something that you could pull off of any nosleep subreddit post or backrooms forum:

I only know a few people that have seen them. When I first heard an old hiker buddy of mine grumbling about "parking lots in the woods" I thought he meant those turn off lots near national parks where hikers leave their cars before hitting trails. But he just shook his head. "No, not the ones outside of the woods, the ones inside. You find them sometimes, out in the deep woods." 

He stopped talking about them after that and let me be. It wasn't until a year or so later that I was on a solo-hike in the Adirondacks, just backpacking and checking out some of the peaks. Just after checking out Pyramid I was making my way to the Gothics to camp out for the night. The sun was already setting and I was considering just calling it quits and setting up down in the valley when I saw something that reminded me of what my buddy said. 

It was a parking lot. Keep in mind here I'm a couple hours away from the nearest building, a couple of old hikers inns up north aways, and then at least six hours from I87. There's no good reason for there to be a parking lot in the middle of the forest out here, much less one with a working streetlight, so I went to go check it out. 

As I got closer, I saw it was maybe a hundred feet at the widest, just a big, flat square of broken asphalt. One end of it had this big streetlight all lit up, but otherwise there was nothing in that lot. No cars, no animals, nothing. I hiked around the outside of it and couldn't find even a hint of a road leading to the place, it was just totally disconnected and in the middle of the woods. 

Now, I was spooked a bit but still curious. The asphalt looked like it was only a couple years old, but there were huge cracks in it running through the lot with big, gnarly looking roots poking up. I went up and checked out the streetlight, but couldn't find any markings on it. Really, I had hoped to find the number for at least a utility company or something that I could call up and ask about the lot, but there wasn't as much as a mark on that pole. It just sat there, buzzing. At that point, the sun was pretty well set, and I noticed that I couldn't hear any birds or bugs, just that buzzing bulb on the streetlight. 

This part is a bit hazy, maybe I was tired, I don't know. But I swear there was someone else on that lot. Just when I turned around from the lamp post, I saw someone hiker on the other side of the lot, walking away. I tried calling out, but they didn't turn around, so I went and followed them out of the lot to see if maybe they knew what this place's deal was. 

By the time I gave up following them, the last light of the sun was gone and I decided to just make camp where I was. It must have only been a couple hundred feet from the parking lot, but I couldn't see that light anymore. At least I could hear the bugs going again. 

I swear, it was just a couple hundred feet from that parking lot. When I woke up in the morning and packed up the camp, the Gothics were gone, Pyramid was gone, Sawtooth was gone, and that lot was gone too. There was nothing familiar on the horizon, just more hardwood forest and unfamiliar mountains as far as the eye could see. 

Rangers picked me up a couple days after that, my beacon worked and they found me hungry and wandering the woods. I didn't understand how I could have gotten lost for days out there, so the first thing I asked them was where I was. Maine. I was in Maine. Somehow, I'd gotten over a half dozen state routes and highways and two hundred miles to the northeast of the Gothics. 

These days, I warn people to just walk away if they see a parking lot in the woods. I've heard some more stories from other hikers about them now. Some are like mine, and they show up far away from where they thought they were. Others, they tell stories of friends who went to go check out a parking lot and never came back. 

This sort of thing shows up all the time and once you recognize the beats it gets to be pretty obvious. So, what's at play here? 

  • Woods setting established, comes with expectations for nature
  • Parking lot is in the woods, disrupts expectations of a forest setting
  • No marking in the lot and the lights are working, continued disruption
  • Person in the parking lot, something even more disrupting
  • Finally, the main character is transported far away, a final break in the order

Boil it all away and it's a series of increasing points that put something where it should not be, creating a feeling of the uncanny. So what is uncanniness and what causes it?

Aleksandra Waliszewska
The German word unheimlich is obviously the opposite
of heimlich, heimisch, meaning “familiar,” “native,” “belonging
to the home”; and we are tempted to conclude that
what is “uncanny” is frightening precisely because it is not
known and familiar. Naturally not everything which is new
and unfamiliar is frightening, however; the relation cannot
be inverted. We can only say that what is novel can easily
become frightening and uncanny; some new things are
frightening but not by any means all. Something has to be
added to what is novel and unfamiliar to make it uncanny.

-Sigmund Freud, The Uncanny (1919)

"Unheimlich, in other words, is not simply that which is not homely: it is that which is familiar, of the self and known to the self, yet supposed to remain hidden from the self, but has become apparent, has become visible to the self" (Rahimi). Freud keeps going for quite a bit after this, examining the works of the person whose works the essay The Uncanny is about, Jentsch. In his article On the psychology of the uncanny (1906), Jentsch proposes that what makes something uncanny, something common in various contexts, is "the ambivalence and duality of the states of objects and the modes of being of subjects", and that an esssential element of this is a state of undecidability, making it so that the observer "doubts whether an apparently animate being is really alive; or conversely, whether a lifeless object might not in fact be animate" (Jentsch). In fact, let's take this whole passage from Rahimi discussing Jentsch and Freud:

Somehow, however, Freud appears to have missed or ignored an important detail in Jentsch’s account, namely the reason why that specific uncer-tainty would have the effect in question. In what may well be the most essential claim of his theory of the uncanny, Jentsch explains the impact of uncertainty as ‘‘the feeling of being threatened by something unknown and incomprehensible that is just as enigmatic to the individual as his own psych usually is as well’’ (1995[1906], p. 14, emphasis added). The significance of this passage lies, almost camouflaged, in the rather casual reference made here to the comparison between the threatening incomprehensibilities of the unfamiliar object and the familiar self, one’s ‘‘own psyche.’’ To be sure, however, the casual subtlety does not denote Jentsch’s lack of awareness of the significance of the idea, which coincides directly with Lacan’s later notion of extimit and his formulation of the self as alien to itself (see below for details). In many ways the rest of Jentsch’s article consists of an elaboration of that very same idea. In another of his examples, which Freud again hastily mentions and dismisses, Jentsch speaks of the uncanny effect that can be produced by observing an epileptic fit by a person unfamiliar with that phenomenon. Jentsch, says Freud, uses the examples of epileptic seizure and psychosis to argue that these can produce uncanny experiences in spectators by producing, ‘‘the impression of automatic, mechanical processes at work behind the ordinary appearance of mental activity’’ (1919, p. 226).

Jentsch’s actual argument, however, is more sophisticated than suggested by Freud. The epileptic seizure or psychotic behavior, says Jentsch, reveal upon the spectator, ‘‘the dark knowledge’’ that s ⁄ he has been wrong in attributing familiarity to what ‘‘he was previously used to regarding as a unified psyche’’ (1995[1906], p. 14). The epileptic attack, he writes, ‘‘reveals the human body to the viewer’’ (ibid.). But what exactly is that ‘‘dark knowledge’’ which is ‘‘revealed’’ to the spectator of madness or epilepsy to cause an uncanny fear? The viewer, according to Jentsch, becomes aware of the erroneous nature of his or her familiar understanding of ‘‘the body that under normal conditions is so meaningful, expedient, and unitary’’ (ibid., emphasis mine). That dark uncanny knowledge, in other words, consists of the realization that the ‘familiar’ body on which we so ‘naturally’ project the qualities of meaning, expediency and unity, which we were ‘‘previously used to regarding as a unified psyche,’’ can so easily become an alien ‘unfamiliar’ object devoid of understandable meaning and lacking unitary cohesion. It would appear then, that Freud’s reading of Jentsch’s claim as ‘‘the impression of automatic, mechanical processes at work behind the ordinary appearance of mental activity’’ (1919, p. 226) may have missed an important note here.

LISETTE: What in the world does any of that mean?

CRAB: Freud was hasty and dismissive, Jentsch probably hit the nail on the head. To sum it all up, the uncanny happens when the familiar is unfamiliar, or in an undecidable state. For Freud, "things of terror" are made uncanny after the formation of the ego. 

The ego appears, after all, at (and as) the end of a magnificent and frightening phantasmagoric procession that comes forth from the real and ends in the symbolic. Paradoxically, it is this ‘procession’ that creates both the ‘real’ and the ‘symbolic’. Before the ego, there is no real and no place within the symbolic from which to conceive of the real. There is no integrated self and therefore no fear of its disintegration, no ego and no world. It is only after the ego comes to exist that the notion of annihilation, and the ‘horror’ of such annihilation can be experienced in a symbolic sense, and it is the very process of creation of the ego that is inseparably associated with that horror. The very process that creates the specter of annihilation, in other words, is the process that overcomes it through denial which is signification, the death of the object. On the more personal side as well, paradox reigns supreme insofar as the production of the ego is simultaneously a denial and a recognition of a difference and of a sameness. On the one hand, the recognition of the ‘I’ is a denial of the difference that exists between the image and the viewer who self-identifies with it. This is the source of alienation that is always already the lot of the human subject...

CRAB: See, this all is tangential with Rahimi's idea that Lacan's Stade du Miroir or mirror stage is what forms the ego. Freud has this whole theory that, of course, revolves around threats of castration as being what transitions a person from childhood primal narcissim to having an ego that recognizes self and reality, but Lacan's Stade du Miroir posits that the ego is formed in the mirror stage, when the primal narcissist begins to form their identity- through observation of the self.

The ego, in this way, is reliant on your eyes, the specular. They create the associations "that unite the I with the statue onto which man projects himself, the phantoms that dominate him, and the automaton with which the world of his own making tends to achieve fruition in an ambiguous relation" (Lacan). As a consequence, it is those things that disturb this logic, that challenge the nature of the ego's self identity which binds the gestalt of identity to inner experiences that "would become terrifying in the uncanny sense of terror, because it threatens to unveil the original ‘lie’ that we have told ourselves regarding the ‘sameness’ of that image and the I" (Rahimi). [4]

LISETTE: So, these doppelgangers, they are terrible and frightful because they make people challenge their own identity? Their own understanding of the world? 

CRAB: Precisely. And really, that sort of challenge may well be the underpinning for all things that we find frightful.

Blood People, Shapeshifter
Would you like to feel like a doppelganger? Taste the slavering hunger to be someone else? Maybe even anyone else? Immerse in a new identity- reseat your ego and assume a new personhood? A final passage for this meal:

Roleplaying is a form of self-conscious ego alteration in which the performers no longer change identities subtly, as they must do in the mundane world. Gamers become hyperaware of their own personality manifestations, adopting alternate vocal patterns, attitudes, and histories for their characters. Roleplayers experience something akin to a “double consciousness”; in-game decisions are made by the character, but the player is cognizant during the whole process and realizes the discrepancies and similarities between the behavior of the two selves. Immersion into character becomes even more intense when players physically “act out” their characters actions and don costuming in Live Action roleplaying games and at conventions.

-Sarah Lynne Bowman, The Psychological Power of the Roleplaying Experience

END TITLES

"Blood People- Shapeshifter" begins to play.

The belching smoke of the projector takes on the form of a concert of players as music pours out and CRAB hands LISETTE a bag of popcorn.

CRAB: Doppelganger as roleplay enthusiast, there's something.

LISETTE: Honestly it feels a bit insensitive in light of my previous experiences. 

CRAB: Yeah, alright, fair. With all the theory and research leading up to it, next up it's time we visit the zoo and talk about types of doppelganger. 

LISETTE: There's more than one?

CRAB: Broadly, yes. The taxonomy of doppelgangers is, frankly, uninteresting, but the variety in types and how they operate should prove of use to you. 

LISETTE: If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.

CRAB: ... just who has been teaching you Sun Tzu? 

LISETTE: Sir DEREK, he has quite a lot to say about strategy. He also leant me a collection of moving pictures that depict great battles to watch, it has been exhilirating. Your talking fireplace has been very helpful explaining the parts I am unfamiliar with.

CRAB: CARMINE? Yeah, poor little fire elemental. All they want to do is read, I'm still working out how to make that work with his whole, you know, being a fireplace thing. Keep quiet about moving pictures and the like if Athena asks, she might get testy about teaching you more than you need to know.

LISETTE: Can we learn about whatever that bat creature is next?

CRAB: What bat creature?

CRAB: Oh. Yeah, ask DEREK about album covers later. Pretty sure his jazz album got popular. Anyways, see you all for the second course.

FADE OUT

Notes and Rants

[1] I found no less than fifteen articles from a variety of websites and four published books that used this exact phrasing in reference to mythological doppelgangers: "In Ancient Egyptian mythology, a ka was a tangible "spirit double" having the same memories and feelings as the person to whom the counterpart belongs." This line, as close as I can ascertain, originates from the doppelganger Wikipedia article, specifically an edit and summation made by contributor 83d40m in February of 2013. Further research revealed the addition of this specific claim of Egyptian beliefs being an early form of doppelganger was made in August of 2010 by anonymous contributor 71.111.229.3 whose sole contribution to the website was to add that line. Another line that kept appearing in research was a bit about Norse mythology being linked to doppelgangers, and the source for this appears to be an edit from Wikipedia contributor Xanthoxyl in January of 2007, again with no citation but this time with some tenuous links to actual folklore that I could find. 

I do not envy the task of maintaining Wikipedia articles. At the very least, this instance provides a hard reminder to check your sources. If anyone knows an egyptologist or a similarly rabid pedant, I am curious to know the truth of this matter.

[2] The 2013 comedy version of The Double with Jesse Eisenberg and Mia Wasikowska was very well shot, props to Richard Ayoade. 

[3] Stranger, is not actually fully true here. Take a look at this post for some analysis on the forms that the doppelganger takes. The ground is fertile for interpretations on the doppelganger entity's forms- are they projected by the person seeing them? If that's the case, then why is its first form when seen walking to Jay an apparent version of Hugh/Jeff's mother? The Freud is strong with this film.

[4] The ego, the ocular, and the uncanny: Why are metaphors of vision central in accounts of the uncanny? by Rahimi goes on to discuss that as mirrors became more commonly available to people, reports of doubles and doppelgangers increased. He continues to discuss Lacan at length and the mirror theory, really a worthy read. It reminded me that there's some curious links to be found between VR, mirrors, and identity. I can't speak for the veracity of the claims, not using VR myself, but these videos propose some ideas that Lacan may well agree with, that mirrors can not only form the ego but reshape it.

References

Borchard, G. A., & Bulla, D. W. (2015). Lincoln mediated: The president and the press through nineteenth-century media. Transaction Publishers. 

Bowman, S. L. (2007). The Psychological Power of the Roleplaying Experience. Journal of Interactive Drama, 2(1), 1–14.

Fonseca, T. (2006). The Doppelgänger. Icons of Horror and the Supernatural: An Encyclopedia of Our Worst Nightmares, 1, 187-214.

Freud S. (1919). The uncanny. 

Jentsch E (1995[1906]). On the psychology of the uncanny. Angelaki

Lacan J (1949). The mirror stage as formative of the I function. In: E´crit: The first complete translation in English, Fink B, translator, 75–81. New York, NY : Norton, 2006.

Marshall, Florence A., (2011) The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Volume II, Project Gutenberg, 13-14.

Rahimi, S. (2013). The ego, the ocular, and the uncanny: Why are metaphors of vision central in accounts of the uncanny? The International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 94(3), 453–476. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1745-8315.2012.00660.x

Sherman, J. (2015). Storytelling: An Encyclopedia of Mythology and Folklore. Routledge.

Tymms, Ralph.(1949) Doubles in Literary Psychology. Cambridge: Bowes & Bowes.

Vardoulakis, Dimitris., (August 2004) ‘‘The Critique of Loneliness.’’ Angelaki 9 : 81–101.

 

PAYING THE JOESKY TAX

The Cleft-Blade of the Thief King

A dagger made from a pale glassy and transparent metal. Attacks are treated as magical, but otherwise deal a d6 in damage. On a successful hit, the dagger steals an ability from whatever is struck. The blade of the dagger changes shape to represent the ability stolen. Once an ability has been stolen, the creature it was stolen from cannot use this ability without passing a save vs. magic. The bearer of the blade may use this ability once, but upon use the creature the ability was stolen from can use the ability again as normal.

Be up front about what it can do now with your players. For example, if they use it on a Bandersnatch which can grab something with a +10 to the roll, tell the player that they can do that with the dagger now.

Second Course, Doppelgangers

Sunday, August 21, 2022

Knave Report 5: Pepper Dies (Again)

 In which, the party delves into Emmy Allen's Stygian Library in search for the Greatest Joke.

Dramatis Personae:

Alma Tumbler (level 5) Aspirant Ranger, purple feather mutation, Wielder of the Unknown Blade and the Lightning Bow, Chronicler and Sole Survivor of the first session

Olga Derippe (level 3) Body builder, Hammer Enthusiast, Haunted by a Revenant, Death Defier, Hoardmaster

Pepper Slorah (level 3) Expert Archer, Herbalist, Bell Priestess, Blindshot Expert, expedition leader and freshly returned from work with the Bell Priests (now retired to the status of Henchman as the player is no longer in town)

Stratford Slee (level 3) Member of the Hunter's Pact, Arguably Australian, no longer stuck at 6 HP, ex-pirate

Godwin Le Marque (level 2) Sword swinger with a Napoleon complex

Minerva Hardwick (level 2) Abandoned coward

Oswald Needle (level 2) Exotic mercenary, replaces Minerva after her untimely demise.

Into the Library

Pawel Kot

We were joined by two new players who took on Godwin and Minerva (and then Oswald), joining the party in media res at the shack in the violet soaked dunes. The party made their acquaintance and then carefully crossed the shifting grey dunes, hearing the sounds of slithering on sand and seeing vague shapes roaming the dunes. Luckily, they reached the citadel unscathed.

The citadel itself was worn grey stone, half flooded with grey sand and sinking into the dunes themselves. Climbing the entrance, they descended down a long, steep staircase until they reached an archway of black obsidian. Everything that passed through the archway slowed down, and they had to fight to cross its threshold, but ultimately they all passed and entered a small dark foyer. A sign on a desk read "ring for service" and pointed to a silver bell, the otherwise unremarkable room had only a single simple exit. Here, the grey stone floors gave way to dry wood boards with the occasional carpet while the walls were a simple cream colored plaster. 

Here, Pepper Slorah decided to quaff the potion of doom treading and forsee her potential deaths. She rolled and got three portents: 

Opening a book chained to a lectern and disappearing. 

Walking along an endless bookshelf strewn corridor when the floor opens up and she has only a glimpse of a terrible spider. 

Asleep in a tent in a grand library, a man with tentacles drooping from his face enters the tent- and all else she hears is the slurp of something being extracted and then nothing. 

Thoroughly perplexed by this, the party opens the door and gets their first glimpse at the library. Dark, with the occasional light in the far distance, maybe forty or fifty feet to the nearest ceiling. In all directions out and at haphazard placement and angles there were only bookshelves, crammed with books. The shelves all had a strange numbering system and the books contained mostly jumbled letters in endless variations. 

Godwin rings the bell at the urging of Olga, and the party takes up defensive positions as a diminutive figure in a black cloak appears from the dark shelves and sits at the desk in the foyer. After some prompting, the librarian explains the various orders of librarians and their purposes in the library, and then explains how the party should go about finding the Greatest Joke in this endless library. 

For those unfamiliar with the Stygian Library, it contains everything recorded, and endless variations on everything. I treated it as a Library of Babel-esque Escherian labyrinth. Depending on the rarity of the knowledge being looked for, the party sets a progress goal. In this case, their goal was 40- the highest recommended. To get progress, they need to get hints from creatures in the library, descend deeper, etc. Additionally, each time they descend there's a series of rolls made to randomly generate the next rooms and encounters- then link them all together. Each room descended into increases a depth score by one, and the party needs to reach their target progress and a depth of progress-20 to find their book. 

After this explanation the librarian leaves and the party decides to descend to the next room. En route, they realize that some of their weapons have gone missing- which causes a panic as several magical weapons have disappeared. Suddenly, even weapons they're carrying disappear, and Olga catches glimpse of a great, distended hand appearing from above and stealing her beloved warhammer.

Sandra Ristau

With this, the party sees a great, distended heron-headed beast with long human arms, one clutching a collection of stolen weapons and the other reaching for more. Minerva runs to the beast before it can steal more of their gear and casts Body Swap, temporarily becoming the Bandersnatch while the Bandersnatch takes control of her body. She releases the weapons and the party rearms, but her old body grabs a weapon and sprints into the dark. Minerva grabs the fleeing body swappee and then suddenly swaps back into her own body- now clutched by the beast. 

The party gets to work fighting the beast and do some damage, causing it to flee into the night- taking Olga's hammer with it. In the process, it also slowly, horribly, squeezes Minerva to death and drops the bloody pulp to the ground (causing the new player to begin rolling up the replacement character). Miraculously, the group manages to catch up to the bandersnatch and finish it off- and then are shortly later joined by Oswald Needle. They continue their journey and end up in a room filled with pipes, gears, and four grey librarians maintaining the machinery- which all supported a computer terminal. 

After some trial and error, the party finds out that the terminal is part of a great calculation machine, and they ask the machine questions about where to find the Greatest Joke- increasing their progress significantly. Speaking with the librarians proves equally helpful, and they show the party a shortcut to a lower depth. 

The party takes the shortcut and end up in a grand map room, descending through a hidden ladder in the ceiling. Checking out the room reveals a mysterious bronze globe whose clockwork machinations reveal their vague location in the library and gives some ideas on how to get to their goal. The maps on the walls are of strange and mythical lands, including central Europe in 1914 and the Ohio State Representative District number 9. 

As the searching of the room goes on, a cluster of desks stacked with paper turns violent, as the paper shapes and expands into two large Origami golems. Battle commences and the party finds their effects with nonmagical weapons to be largely ineffective, the most successful attacks being using torches to burn the golems or, in the case of Godwin, shoving one of the golems into the fireplace. Spreading fire is shortly a concern and the party scrambles into action and manages to get it under control. The desks themselves prove to contain a strange glass violin that, when played, causes a sphere of silence centered on it. There's a short discussion here about the rules of the library as they were read to them, notably don't steal from or damage the library, and the party decides that it doesn't count as stealing unless you remove it from the library and then carry on their merry journey. 

A great cone of metal and glass vials filled with varicolored mists dominates the next central room, and the party makes the connections that this must be a device for harvesting and cataloguing souls and used by the white librarians. While investigating the room, there is a scuffle where Oswald and Olga are nearly devoured by giant bookworms, but they prevail and the party acquires a spellbook from the worms' hovel which contains six spells in one item slot (but has the same casting restrictions). 

Into the next room, the party finds a hallway of statues with a staircase at the end. The statues are all lifelike and some are reclining or resting. Pepper plays the violin as the group moves through slowly, but when Alma discovers the plaques on all the statues are biographies that end with "Deceased in the hall of statues" she prompts the group to run and they make it to the staircase. 

Descending the stairs for some time, they eventually end up in front of a great stone door. Opening it reveals a room of bookshelves that contain no books, but instead large objects wrapped in white cloth that smelled of vinegar. Additionally, the room contains two chained books on lecterns which Pepper recalled for everyone as being something she foresaw killing her. They move hastily through the room and pause only long enough to see the titles on the chained books, A Way Out and Soulfire

In a clearing in the shelves, the group finds some old furniture and scattered floorboards. Examining the ceiling carefully for spiders, Stratford misses the opening of the trapdoor directly in front of him as a giant trapdoor spider pulls him into its hovel, paralyzing him. Luckily, he had the forethought to scream before being paralyzed and the party sets to searching for him immediately. Godwin finds the trapdoor and Pepper opens it, suddenly recalling her doom portent again just in time to be grabbed by the spider as well and pulled into its nest. 

Now, Godwin opens the trapdoor and provides room for everyone else to attack the spider crammed into the hole, but they make note of strange glass tubes filled with a pink mist that run through the nest. A terribly unlucky strike from the spider breaches one of these tubes and four horrid phantoms pour out from the tubes, causing a litany of distresses to the groups and, most tragically, one runs through Pepper, killing her on the spot. 

Two misfortunes hit at the same time. The first, Pepper falls backwards- shattering all her potions in the fall. But just as the light in her eyes fades away, her eyes turn inky black and she lets out a horrid death rattle, standing back up as flesh and muscle expands and her bones poke outwards, spiky and black. At the same time, the seven unidentified potions she was carrying mix and mingle- soaking into her wounds. Terrible octarine light pours out from her as Pepper's body warps and mutates, becoming enormous and horribly insectoid- and then disappears. But this is quickly revealed to only be an invisibility, as Not-Pepper begins attacking all around her indiscriminately. 

Alma kills the spider and the phantoms with a terrific shot from her lighting bow, but then the second misfortune hits. With a guttural and horrid laugh, a dark, hulking figure sprints at the group from beyond the light of the lanterns and grabs Olga, running into the darkness as it tries to strangle her. The revenant, returned once more, was the same one that had been slain by Olga's death ray way back in Gnarledshore and now chooses to strike again. The party flees Not-Pepper and run after the revenant whose strength proves too great for Olga to break free from. Just before the party arrives to rescue Olga, the revenant drains 600 experience from her and throws her to the ground before fleeing into the dark of the library once more, cackling the whole way. 

Lamenting the loss of Pepper, the party comes to the conclusion that they must return to the trapdoor area if they want to keep their progress, as they are very close to finding the Greatest Joke. Binding what wounds they could, the gang creeps back to the trapdoor and discover a stinking, rotting mass that was once Pepper. It does not appear to move anymore, and closer inspection reveals the mass to be dead- but also the skull is missing, a fact which is accompanied by a nefarious cackle in the distance. 

The trapdoor nest reveals a shortcut through a horrible small tunnel as well as a bounty of jeweled rings from some of the desiccated dead. Choosing to take the shortcut, the party crawls out into a large, warped wooden room with several normal exits but dominated by a horrid, gnarled black door with a lock on it and crowded with glowing red symbols. 

Something on the other side of the door knocks. 

It offers them the book they desire, or any wish, in exchange for one of their souls. 

The party refuses and heads off through one of the other exits to find the book on their own. Behind them, they hear the grinding of metal as of a door swinging open, and then closed again.

Some Notes

I should have run this using this generator, it would have been much easier. The random nature of the library was originally something I was concerned about running, but it was pretty smooth once I got generating the rooms. I'm also pretty liberally giving the party additional progress and letting them find shortcuts to cut deeper into the library than would be normally allowed.

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Appetizer, Doppelgangers


INT. THE INCONTINENT VICAR. NIGHT

A small bar occupies most of the first floor of the inn, dimly lit from the hearth and a lantern set upon the bar top. The room is empty, save for the portly middle aged innkeeper cleaning up for the night. Outside, the heavens have opened up and a fierce storm batters the windows, the occasional flash of thunder illuminate the dark, wild fields of the frontier that surround the inn.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and three weather-worn and drenched travelers stagger inside. Startled, the innkeeper moves to greet them. 

DOODLES

Come in, come in- bar the door and keep the storm out! What a terrible night to walk these muddy roads, but make yourselves at home and warm yourselves by the hearth.

The travelers mumble thanks and set their cloaks to dry and gear to rest before pulling chairs and settling heavily by the hearth. Amongst the three is a noble gentleman, a stately warrior-nun, and a young tinker. They have a sharp look about them, each one eyeing their surroundings cautiously. The gentleman speaks first. 

EDWARD

This inn is truly a godsend, barkeep, and you a messenger of the gods to have a hearth ready and warm to greet us. I am called EDWARD of the Marshlands, and these are my traveling companions Sister ARMITAGE and LISETTE the Tinker.

DOODLES

Well met, good sir and ladies. It is your good fortune to find yourselves in the Incontinent Vicar, begging your pardon for the jest Sister, it's an old family name. I am Cameron Fiddlesticks, the proprietor of this small bastion of civilization. But everyone calls me DOODLES. Used to be a bit of artist, you see. 

EDWARD

Our good fortune indeed, DOODLES. Do you have two rooms we can rent for the night? We lost our coach some ten miles back and have been battling the storm in search of sanctuary ever since. 

DOODLES

It displeases me to say it, but I am afraid that my small inn is full tonight. Just like yourselves, two groups of travelers seeking refuge from the storm rented out all of the rooms. I have no rooms, but rest assured I will not turn you out back into the storm. Frankly, I am glad to have some company as the other groups turned in early. How about this- I'll see what scraps of food might be around the kitchen. The serving girl won't be here until daybreak to fix breakfast, but I'll make it up to you with free drinks if you keep me company. 

DOODLES ducks into the back kitchen. The travelers huddle and speak quietly. 

EDWARD

As good a deal as we could hope for in these circumstances.

ARMITAGE

Free drink until morning? Keep your wits about the both of you, something here is turning my stomach. 

LISETTE

He seems friendly enough to me. Are you going to tell him about the corpse? 

ARMITAGE

Quiet about that, girl. Let us see what more this DOODLES has to say- there may be more to him than he seems. 

LISETTE

A doddering innkeeper like him? Surely not. 

ARMITAGE

These lands are the frontier now, many a strange folk and bandit are about. I have heard tales of villains and robbers trapping unwitting travelers before- so keep one eye open and a blade nearby. 

EDWARD

Easy, Sister. Don't frighten our ward unduly. This is no play and we are no players, he is much more likely a lonely innkeeper than some bloodsucking vandal. But, LISETTE, the Sister's words are not entirely without reason. Allow me to handle the matter of the corpse. 

Glasses clinking together signal DOODLES returning- he sets four mugs on the bar and fills them, offering one to each traveler in turn. 

DOODLES 

I'm afraid there's nothing left from dinner, but drink up. Tell me, what errand sends you to the frontier?

EDWARD takes a glass and drinks, after a moment LISETTE does as well. ARMITAGE glares. 

EDWARD

The Sister and I are escorting our ward to the Red Keep on the frontier, to apprentice under a master tinker there. Tell me, how far from the Keep are we now? 

DOODLES

On foot? I'd say a week at least. More if this weather keeps up.

EDWARD

I don't suppose the other travelers have any spare horses we could purchase?

DOODLES

Hmm, I doubt that. They came with two four-horse coaches and would sorely miss even a single from the teams. A troupe of five morris dancers staying the night alongside four traveling spoon merchants, if you can believe it.

From behind the bar, DOODLES reveals a shiny silver spoon to the travelers. 

DOODLES

Far too rich for my blood. Wooden utensils are simpler and more reliable for an establishment such as mine. The town just up the road, Argyle, might have someone willing to sell a horse or two though.

Chatter continues between the group for some time. ARMITAGE relaxes slightly as the night whittles away. LISETTE eventually nudges EDWARD

EDWARD

Ah, right. Say, DOODLES, you haven't noticed anything strange about the inn as of late, have you? 

DOODLES

Well, aside from the downpour no. A rain such as this hasn't come to us in a fair decade I should say. 

EDWARD

Ah, but no unusual guests? Or perhaps sounds the night before? Maybe-

LISETTE

DOODLES did you know there's a dead man in the bushes just up the road? 

ARMITAGE

Child! 

DOODLES

A dead man? Outside the inn? 

LISETTE

Yes, just a few minutes up the road! We spied his legs sticking straight up out of the brush and-

EDWARD

And he appeared to have been run through, a blade to the back I should wager. This day or the last. He had nothing of value on him either. Spying your inn in the distance we thought it best to make for shelter sooner rather than search around for any other signs.

DOODLES frowns, troubled, and strokes his chin. A flash of lightning illuminates the inn and thunder rolls in the distance. 

DOODLES

How very peculiar. None of the travelers mentioned such a thing when they came in yesterday- and the reeve has kept the roads well clear of banditry. If there were any foul sort running about the roads I should be the first to know.

The group of four all share a glance and then look upstairs. 

ARMITAGE

And what do you know of these travelers renting your rooms? Are you certain they are who they say they are?

DOODLES

They seemed the alright sorts, the merchants a bit stuffy but none of them the bandit type. I worry though, what say we haul the poor man out of the rain? If he's a local from Argyle up the road I should like to know who sooner rather than later.

A brief discussion follows, EDWARD and DOODLES pull on cloaks and exit the front door. LISETTE shivers.

ARMITAGE

 He seemed quite genuinely concerned. Hm. Perhaps I had him wrong. 

LISETTE

See? A friendly old innkeeper. If the murderer wasn't one of the travelers either, do you suppose there are bandits loose in these parts?

ARMITAGE

The other travelers aren't free of suspicion yet. Bah, we shouldn't get wrapped up in this. The minute the rain lets up we'll leave this place behind. We can let the Lord at the Red Keep know what we have seen when we arrive.

There is a creaking from upstairs and someone descends to the bar. It is Cameron Fiddlesticks, dressed in bedclothes.

LISETTE

DOODLES? How did you- where's EDWARD?

FIDDLESTICKS

I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, miss. Have we met? My friends call me DOODLES but I can't say I recall meeting two such as you before- who are you who make yourselves at home freely in my inn?

ARMITAGE and LISETTE share a glance. LISETTE's eyes widen and she swallows a response. Quickly, ARMITAGE steps between LISETTE and FIDDLESTICKS.

ARMITAGE

Good sir, I am called Sister ARMITAGE, and this is LISETTE. Do you have a twin by chance?

FIDDLESTICKS

A twin? What a strange question, and from strangers no less, at this time of night! No, and my brothers look nothing like me and left here long ago. 

LISETTE and ARMITAGE are silent at this. LISETTE's eyes flick to the front door. FIDDLESTICKS scratches his head, considers, then grunts. 

FIDDLESTICKS

Don't worry, I cannot begrudge the two of you for taking shelter here from such a storm. I'll forgive the drinks as I have no rooms to spare for the two of you- in exchange for some conversation that is, as I find myself now well and truly unable to return to sle-

Once more, the front door bangs open and the rain-slick figures of EDWARD and DOODLES haul a corpse into the room and secure the door again. 

EDWARD

Black news, friends, our innkeeper here says this body is one of the danc- what hey?

EDWARD looks at FIDDLESTICKS, whose mouth is agape and stuttering. DOODLES is a mirror image. After a brief sound of choking rage the two each move, FIDDLESTICKS grabs and brandishes a chair while DOODLES pulls a club from behind the bar and waves it at FIDDLESTICKS.

DOODLES

What dark sorcery is this? Who is this devil that wears my face? 

FIDDLESTICKS

There is witchcraft afoot here- who is this man you bring into my bar with these accusations and this countenance? Begone devil! 

ARMITAGE pushes LISETTE behind the bar as the two innkeepers charge at one another, shouting. Before they can do too much damage, ARMITAGE and EDWARD grab one of the innkeepers each and pull them apart. Raucous shouts and hubbub from upstairs can be heard, a party of five spry young men armed with rapiers and daggers charges down ahead of a group of four considerably obese men- both parties in nightclothes. One of the young men shouts above the furor. 

JOSHUA

Bandits! Stand down or we'll- we'll cut you to pieces! Innkeep what is all th- two innkeeps?

EDWARD

Yes- two- is exactly the problem! Bind that one and I'll get this one and we can get to the bottom of this! Now!

The two innkeepers continue to spout vitriol and loudly proclaim their innocence and the other as being a devil. After a moment's consideration the morris dancers offer their assistance and both innkeepers are bound and set apart from one another. EDWARD begins explaining the situation to the grumbling merchants and dancers as LISETTE checks the body hauled in from outside. She removes the cloak covering its face and her head whips around to examine the group, she gasps and points at one of the dancers. 

LISETTE

It's you! This can't be- the dead man is you!

Everyone looks to the body and sees that it indeed is the exact double of one of the dancers. Said dancer gets shoved apart from the group and into the middle of the room by one of the merchants. EDWARD draws his sword, ARMITAGE grabs LISETTE and draws her back towards the kitchen. 

EDWARD

Explain yourself- now!

PATRICK

I swear- it's not- I didn't do anything! JOSHUA tell them!

JOSHUA

The boy tells the truth, lower your blade and we'll explain!

EDWARD steps closer to ARMITAGE and LISETTE and lowers his blade but does not sheathe it.

JOSHUA

We were traveling yesterday when we met a wandering minstrel on the side of the road. The miserable sod was caught in the downpour, so we brought him along with us. But when he got in the coach he changed and suddenly there were two PATRICKs! There was a scuffle and the false one was stabbed. We... we feared the noose and so dumped the body as- who would believe us?

The merchants scoff and begin edging back upstairs, muttering. The most rotund and elderly one grumbles. 

REMUS

I think it's high past time that we pack up and get on the road.

EDWARD

Hold, merchants! This deviltry involves us all now. JOSHUA- how do you know that the one you slew was the false PATRICK

JOSHUA

Well- we weren't sure at first. Once we got to the inn we had him do our troupe's specialty dance- no one else can do it on demand and he did it flawlessly! Surely the devil was the one we slew!

ARMITAGE

And what of these two innkeepers, then? How do we sort devil from man? We only met the one in bedclothes just now- but the other was chatting quite jovially with us for some hours.

The group gets to shouting and arguing, nothing being clear over the din. Both innkeepers are practically frothing accusing the other, but no one can agree on what to do. Complaining that it was none of their business, the merchants head upstairs and proclaim that they intend to leave as the dancers continue arguing amongst themselves. A shout is heard from the kitchen and a serving girl enters the bar.

NICOLE

Quiet down you gits- breakfast is ready! What- what in the world is this, now?

Once more the inn erupts in noise as the group shouts the story again to the serving girl. The merchants descend the stairs fully dressed and with baggage- shouting accusations at the whole assembled group as they exit through the kitchen to the garage in the back. 

LISETTE, EDWARD, and ARMITAGE huddle. 

ARMITAGE

I think it's high time we leave as well- weather or no.

LISETTE

But what about the innkeeper?

ARMITAGE

He- they are not our problem, we'll fetch a priest in the next town and let them sort this out.

EDWARD

Very well. I don't trust these dancers though, they have killed once already and may well get ahead of us along with the merchants and convince the town that this was our doing. Their horses are in the garage, if we're quick then we can ready three and be gone before they notice. 

LISETTE

Horse theft! That's a hanging offense! We'll make it to the Red Keep just to be strung up!

ARMITAGE

The sword-arm is right, LISETTE. If we make it to the law first then they'll likely turn a blind eye to what was necessary to get there. EDWARD, take LISETTE and get the horses ready, I'll keep this group busy, knock on the front window when all is ready. 

ARMITAGE rejoins the shouting group in front of the bar and begins throwing her own, louder accusations. EDWARD and LISETTE duck out through the kitchen. 

The sun has not yet risen, and the rain is still pouring. The short path to the garage is muddy and slows the pair as they fight the wind. A flash of thunder reveals an abnormal lump by the door to the garage, and LISETTE gestures at it and shouts to EDWARD, who draws a finger to his lips and shushes as he holds his blade at the ready. 

Approaching the body, it becomes clear that it is one of the merchants. Another flash of lightning brings a peal of thunder, revealing briefly the merchant's face has become swollen and purple. 

EDWARD

Steel yourself, LISETTE. Steady breathing, remember your training. 

LISETTE nods. Sounds of a struggle can be heard from the garage. The door is open, a faint lantern light spills out into the dark. The pair continue cautiously forward, and EDWARD nudges the door open. 

Inside, four more bodies lie on the ground, some bleeding and others still sucking in their last breath. One is face down in the mud. They all look to be merchants, one is a double for the one found outside. 

There are sixteen horses, all crammed into the garage. Each horse has an exact duplicate. A brightly colored coach is unprepared in one corner, but a black coach stands ready with four chestnut colored horses hitched and ready. The coach doors to the garage are suddenly thrown open, and shouting can be heard from the other side of the coach. Two merchants are seen climbing in, with a third being thrown off and into the mud as one of the merchants drives the team out and into the downpour, disappearing into the dark. 

EDWARD runs forward to check on the merchant thrown from the wagon, leaving LISETTE gawping at the bloody scene and agitated horses. She draws her dagger and checks the merchants in the garage, each one bears mortal wounds. As EDWARD reaches the merchant thrown from the coach, she looks and sees the merchant throw a hand up and grab on to EDWARD- and suddenly where there was one there are now twin EDWARDs, with no merchant to be seen. LISETTE looks between them both and shouts in fear, she cannot tell which is which. 

Both EDWARDs rush one another and begin a bloody brawl in the mud. One shouts.

EDWARD?

Get ARMITAGE and make for the next town and the priest! I'll catch up!

The EDWARDs continue to brawl, one draws a dagger. LISETTE nods and turns back out the garage, drawing her dagger as she reaches the door- which bursts open in front of her. NICOLE flies into LISETTE's arms- sobbing. 

NICOLE 

Miss- it's terrible! They're all- they just started killing each other! We have to get the priest!

Glass can be heard shattering inside, along with the clash of blades and mixed shouting. LISETTE shakes NICOLE off her, crouching slightly and moving inside with dagger ready.

LISETTE

I'm not leaving without my companion, either come help me or fly back to your town on your own. 

NICOLE whimpers, looks out into the pouring rain and dark outside. The sky has begun to lighten, slightly, but the torrential rains have not let up. NICOLE follows LISETTE inside, grabbing a cleaver from the kitchen top and clutching it desperately. 

Broken furniture and pools of blood. Shouts and sparks fly at the clash of metal on metal. ARMITAGE, bloodied mace in hand with a stool as a makeshift shield, fighting back a mad-eyed morris dancer with a rapier. One of the innkeepers is tipped to the side in his chair, head bearing a grievous wound. Two of the same morris dancer fence one another, madly. 

LISETTE darts forward and hamstrings the dancer attacking ARMITAGE, who bats her away and keeps LISETTE from biting the blade of the dancer who shouts in anger. NICOLE sobs. 

The front door is swinging wildly, the storm pours inside the inn. The lantern is knocked to the side and the light extinguished, the melee inside stutter-framed with flashes of lightning. JOSHUA, bleeding from a side-wound. He drags a muddied person, limping, into the room- bearing the face of NICOLE. She screams, looking up at the NICOLE beside LISETTE. LISETTE is pushed aside as the NICOLE by her leaps through the room and flies at JOSHUA, knocking him back out and into the mud. 

JOSHUA

Witches and devils, all of you!

ARMITAGE

LISETTE, flee!

The door to the garage by the kitchen swings open, and a horse enters the room, surveying its contents coolly. It lets loose a screaming whinny and charges forward, dark shadows in its stead. 

ARMITAGE

Upstairs! Bar the door and open it for no one, girl!

LISETTE ducks the horse which charges into the tangle of morris dancers. She hurtles up the stairs and into the first room she finds, slamming the door behind her. She moves one of the three beds inside in front of the door, blocking it. As she prepares to move a heavy chest on to the bed and reinforce her barricade, she hears a voice. A figure rises up from under one of the beds. 

ARMITAGE

LISETTE? Is that you?

LISETTE turns around in terror and stabs downwards, again and again. ARMITAGE crumples, a flash of lightning from the bedroom's window revealing she already bears numerous wounds. LISETTE gasps and pulls ARMITAGE into her arms- choking a sob.

ARMITAGE

It's okay- girl, the gods will protect you.

ARMITAGE coughs bloody and wet, shudders, and goes quiet. LISETTE remains, holding her, kneeling on the floor. 

Crashes and shouting are heard from downstairs as the rain hammers against the inn. 

The clamor from the bar quiets, eventually. There is a knock on the door. 

EDWARD

Hello? LISETTE? LISETTE are you in there?

LISETTE sets ARMITAGE on the ground gently and stands. 

LISETTE

You're not EDWARD.

EDWARD

LISETTE what are you saying? Of course I'm EDWARD. The other- hells, the other... thing ran off into the woods after I stabbed it. I just came back in and- gods are you alright? 

The door rattles. LISETTE does not respond. 

EDWARD

Come on LISETTE, open the door. Let's go and get the priest. 

More steps can be heard outside the room. The door rattles again. LISETTE does not move. 

ARMITAGE

Girl, get your wits together and get out here, we're leaving.

EDWARD

Yes, and hurry! There may be more of these... things. We should put as much distance as we can between us and here.

LISETTE shakes her head, unsteadily.

LISETTE

No. You're- you're dead.

Something heavy thuds against the door suddenly. 

ARMITAGE

I did not raise you to speak nonsense, girl! A little book learning and she thinks she knows the stretch of the world. If I had known she'd turn out to be such a disappointment then I'd never have picked that wee starvling off the streets.

EDWARD

Calm yourself Sister, there's been a great deal of bloodshed here. Surely she's just confused. Now, open the door and let's make haste.

LISETTE

You are not EDWARD, and you are not ARMITAGE

I do not know what manner of devil you are, but you will not fool me.

The patter of rain fills the silence. Moments pass. 

EDWARD

What an absolute fool of a woman this child has grown into. What would your mother think if she could see you now?

Well, I suppose you couldn't know. After all, ARMITAGE is the closest thing you have a mother, and you killed her just now, didn't you, LISETTE?

Now you're all alone.

Something slams against the door, the room shakes and LISETTE pushes hard to keep the door barred. She looks to the window and smashes it with the pommel of her dagger. The morning is still dark, but she can see it's a short drop to the muddy ground below. 

There's someone standing outside. 

NICOLE

Quickly, miss! If we hurry we can outrun them!

LISETTE stumbles backwards and falls. Something, somethings, behind the door laugh. Standing up, she looks out the window again. EDWARD stands just below the window, beckoning for her to jump. 

LISETTE

No... no. 

Lightning splits the sky and thunder shakes the inn. Below, now ARMITAGE stands, staring up at LISETTE and smiling wickedly. The laughter from the other side of the door grows more baleful. A sword blade breaks through a crack in the door, and many hands set to hacking it to pieces. 

LISETTE steadies herself and turns to face the door. She holds her dagger in front of herself, defensively, and speaks quietly. 

LISETTE

Gods, grant me strength. 

The door heaves and shatters as lightning strikes the ground just outside the inn with a blinding crack and shattering boom. The assailants rush the room but stop short. LISETTE is nowhere to be found. 

INT. CRAB DUNGEON. BANQUET HALL. 

A lavish table is laid out with a bounty of dishes. The benches are crowded with squat, frog-like creatures in robes, devouring the meals noisily. At the head of the table, CRAB eats distractedly, reading from a tablet. Mouth full:

CRAB

Damn, Negative Space, that was horrific. I've got to get someone else to read this and suffer with me.

From a side door, a tall man with a pigeon's head and wearing a tuxedo slides into the room and strides up to CRAB, handing him a sealed envelope. 

CRAB

Oh, hey DEREK. Mail at this hour?

DEREK

Coo.

CRAB

Huh. Well, take it easy man. Grab some food before you go.

DEREK bows and produces a small tupperware container and picks delicately from the assembled meal. CRAB slices the envelope open, a sudden effervescent octarine billows out of the envelope, flooding the room. 

Burning letters of swirling octarine form above the banquet table. 

GRANT THIS ONE STRENGTH

The frog-like creatures scatter as the swirling writing throws the table into disarray and food flies across the room. CRAB stands up, fighting the pulsing octarine. 

CRAB

DEREK who did you say sent this one?

DEREK shrugs and slides out of the room, avoiding the mess.

CRAB

 Oh, great, just like the gods to never sign a letter. How am I supposed to know which of you this is a favor for? And grant who strength?

Suddenly, the swirling letters disappear, leaving the room strangely void. CRAB surveys the mess. 

With a great crack and peal of thunder, LISETTE appears, standing on the table. 

LISETTE yells in surprise and spins around, surveying the room. She sees CRAB and yells again. CRAB yells back. LISETTE yells again. CRAB shakes his head.

CRAB
We done? What do you speak?
Parles français?
说中文吗?
Care- tye sinte quenya?

LISETTE

Where are we now, devil? What new sorcery is this? I will not be tricked again!

CRAB 

Well, that's a relief. I didn't want to do this whole thing in Quenya, my Elvish is rusty.

CRAB rings a hand bell and the doors around the room burst open. LISETTE shouts and brandishes a knife at the dozens of skeletal figures wearing bowties that swarm into the room and begin cleaning. One approaches CRAB bearing a silver platter with two steaming mugs of coffee bearing the Old Bay logo. CRAB takes one and the skeleton places the other at the other end of the table. 

CRAB

Well, go ahead and take a seat over there, miss. Seems like you have need of strength and I need to know what your story is to figure out what that means. 

LISETTE

I- what are you? What is this place?

CRAB

This is the CRAB DUNGEON, and I am the DUNGEON CRAB. Just call me CRAB, it's easier. Go on, take a seat and tell me your story. Sounds like you have a god in your corner and they've called in a favor. You uh, don't happen to know which god you have backing you, do you? Any weird parents? Work at a temple? Signs from the heavens? Prophecies?

LISETTE, considers as CRAB sips the coffee. She gets down from the table, still brandishing the knife, and carefully avoids the skeletons, now mopping the floors, then sits at the other end of the table and sips from the mug cautiously. 

LISETTE

I... just like that? My prayers are answered?

CRAB

Well, gonna be a little harder than that I wager, from all the blood on you I'd say you've been through some rough times. Now, what's your story?

LISETTE

Parents- I didn't know them. I was raised in a convent since I was very young, taught the principles of Xenia before apprenticing for awhile under a local tinker.

CRAB

Wait, Xenia? Like, Athena Xenia? Like Pallas Athena? Athena Promachos and Polias? That Xenia?

LISETTE

Those- some of those names I know as epithets of Xenia. Are you a servant of the Silver-Eyed Owl?

CRAB

Uh, no, I just sort of owe her a favor. Or four. Anyways, go on. You look famished, I'll get some more food.

LISETTE continues to tell her tale as a hearty meal is brought in. 

END TITLES

"Pixies - Stormy Weather" begins to play.

After finishing the meal and summarizing the events of the night at the Incontinent Vicar, CRAB considers the tale.

CRAB

Yeah, sounds like doppelgangers, or I guess changelings- you'll learn the distinction later. There's some some work cut out for us. Alright, first thing in the morning we start the training montage, gonna have to start you from the very beginning it sounds like. Follow this here dapper skeleton and he'll see you to your quarters- just ring the bell and they can bring you whatever you like.

A skeletal servant escorts the still bewildered LISETTE from the room.

CRAB, ASIDE

Well, hell of a prologue there. Sort of hard to keep track of everything, huh? Sure does seem like a problem inherent with the source material, yeah? All in good time. Doppelgangers and the like are pretty dicey, and used with a heavy hand they can pretty much tear apart not just a session or a campaign, but even a table. But we'll exhaustively get into that next time, cheers.

FADE OUT

PAYING THE JOESKY TAX

Masque of the Deceiver

A white tragedy mask, mouth frowning but otherwise unadorned. If carefully inspected, bits of skin can be seen stuck to the inside of the masque, as though torn from great effort. The masque looks as though it is mocking those that behold it.

When worn, the masque allows you to appear as any person you have seen before and mimic their actions and voice perfectly, use their stats and class attributes. While wearing the masque, you are unable to eat or sleep, food and drink ingested while disguised will disappear as though consumed. Doppelgangers will know that you are deceiving them, and they will hate you for it. You can see the true forms of doppelgangers while wearing the masque, and they know this. 

The masque sticks to your flesh, and does not want to stop being someone else. On a failed save against your personal charisma, the masque cannot be removed without permanent scarring.

Part 2: First Course, Doppelgangers