Discussing a book as creative and original as
Cha’alt (a setting written and designed by
Venger Satanis for use with whatever
iteration of the D&D tabletop RPG) presents a number of challenges for the
reviewer. Specifically, the marketing hype
used within the tabletop RPG market has devalued the meaning of the most appropriate
descriptors for
Cha’alt. Taking
the easy route would make this product sound exactly like a host of other
independent RPG products, which it most emphatically is NOT.
That last observation opens the door to a solution. A lot of those challenges of talking about Cha’alt
can be overcome by starting with a discussion of a few things that Cha’alt
is most emphatically NOT.
For starters, it isn’t nearly as degenerate as you would
expect from the marketing. It does
contain some adult themes – drug use primary among them – but it isn’t the all
out sleazefest that you find with other Venger products. It does contain some gratuitous T-and-A art
and plothooks, but these are a spice added to the main dish and not the focus
of the meal. The “naughty bits” are easily
ignored and generally rise only to the level of what one might find in a
typical issue of Heavy Metal.
On a related note, Cha’alt comes across as an amoral
setting, one in which crime lords and demon worshippers and corporate robber
barons exist for their own sake. A
closer look reveals some surprisingly deep touches to the setting that encourage,
if not outright heroism, at least a healthy respect for doing the right
thing. Rather than paint with balck and
a few closely related bands of grey, Venger’s setting also respect for the need
to paint with bright white pure light, for contrast if nothing else. To take just one example, it includes a
section titled “Murder Hobo Regrets” which includes a long list of acts of
contrition, one of which must be undertaken or the character suffers from
specific and concrete game-world ramifications.
It’s a small thing, but an important one, and it goes a long way towards
smoothing out what could be a very bleak and hopeless universe.
Cha’alt also doesn’t fit the mold of the now over-used
term “gonzo”. That word applies, to be
sure, but it isn’t sufficient. These
days ‘gonzo’ has been applied to everything up to and including the strait-laced
wokeness of Wizards of the Coasts fantasy Seattle version of Waterdeep. It has also been applied to the kitchen-sink
approach of settings such as Gamma World, and it doesn’t really apply
here. Sure, Cha’alt gleefully
rips from numerous sources and refuses to be limited by the normal strictures
of genre and setting. There is, however,
a method to Venger’s madness, as every odd and quirky misfit detail works within
the setting. The unpredictability of
things isn’t a crutch used to smooth over missing pieces or a lack of design. It is the design.
With those out of the way we turn our attention to
describing the world of Cha’alt with fresh eyes. Physically, the world is a post-apocalyptic
desert wasteland on an alien planet, one pockmarked by small outposts of
civilizations that range from the gutter to the stars. The doorman at the local underworld dive bar might
keep one eye on the lot, to make sure no one messes with the alien raptor
mounts, low-riding hover-cycles, jeweled flying carpets, and strange pulsing
orbs of multi-hued light. Weapons
checked at the door can range from small curved daggers to ugly and heavy slug throwers
to sleep beam weapons to crystalline staves half aware of their fate. It’s a sci-fi world, and a magic one, but one
that also incorporates the full spectrum of spiritual warfare as chthonic nightmares
wage war with literal demons, and angelic beings work subtle ploys of their own
to keep the dumpster fires of that war contained. Naturally, all of the factions – physical,
corporate, spiritual, and other-dimensional – use men as weapons in a “let’s
you and him fight” kind of war. Sex,
drugs, violence, intimidation, hard cash, power, and secrets are the currency of
the day, and the players step into a resultant political scene that can be as
simple or as complex as the table can handle.
Better yet, it’s one that can ramp up as the character’s power level
does, in easily digested bites. They
might just be interested in helping the local bodega owner escape from under
the thumb of a two-bit syndicate only to find that the syndicate has been order
to secure that location because of ley line shenanigans or hidden deposits of
rare drug-ore – and that the orders came from a space-faring Federation that
doesn’t want to dirty its own hands.
Having eliminated the minor threat, the PCs can easily get caught up in
the fight between powerful wizards and massive galactic gunships. It’s that kind of devil-may-care approach to
the setting that too often gets tarred with the same ‘gonzo’ brush as other, less
fully realized settings.
The book’s design and art supplement the written word to
perfection. Sometimes harsh, sometimes
bizarre, and sometimes intimate, it all works to segregate Cha’alt from
the crowd. It is a lush and easily digested
buffet. It helps establish the setting
as the sort of bridge between medieval fantasy and far flung future tech, and
works to inspire the imagination to break free of that ossified and stunted
assumption that a wall exists between the two.
The place echoes with the source material that inspires it, and
encourages the user to draw from his own experiences with pop culture to add
even more outlandish detail to an already colorful setting.
To really hammer home the alien-ness of the place, Venger
uses a vague point-to-point map labelled with evocative (though perhaps ironic)
place names. Elysium can only be
the pleasant oasis of technologic wealth acquired through seedy means. Nothing good can come of the Black Pyramid,
for it must be an unholy place where only black-hearted men dare tread. Even the made-up names carry a note of exotic
beauty. Kra’adumek. S’kbah.
Ascenda’as. Even a place like A’agrybah
carries just enough real-world meaning to help readers understand the eastern,
onion spired flavor of the place without completely turning into a Middle-Easter
caricature. It has those undertones, but
like so much of this setting, it manages to become its own thing.
Cha’alt: Fuchsia Malaise, drops into this world like
an eldritch bomb. The words after the
colon in its title refer to a soporific drug that has enervated the people of Cha’alt. That drug war – an open war along the lines
of the Opium Wars of our own world – provides the skeletal framework around which
most of the action revolves. Cha’alt suffers
from the curse of possessing an important ore littering its crust, which has
attracted the attention of powerful extra-ch’aaltian forces. They found that fuscia malaise could be used
to induce the troublesome and fractious chaaltian populace into willingly
accepting the yoke of oppression. Most have
adopted a bipolar life of endless drudgework performed to secure the next round
of endless dream-state produced by their next hit. And the powers that be, as in our own world,
are never satiated by access to mere money.
Their depredations have only grown, and at some point somebody is going
to have to do something about it.
Why not you?
Venger provides a wealth of factions to join and fight,
intrigues to join, plots to foil, locations to explore, mysteries to uncover,
and adventures to be hand.
And not in the
usual bland linear style, nor even the top-down NPCs will do X if the players
don’t do Y style, either.
Instead,
Venger provides a few grand-scope plots by the major players that will trundle
along with little change in the background unless acted upon by an outside
player force.
Those can be the thrust of
a long campaign, but far more interesting are the countless little nudges toward
adventure – short tables of encounters, smaller places, lost treasures that
could have epic consequences if found, and minor NPCs whose role can expand
along with the scope of the campaign.
These things will arise naturally through play, and the connective
tissue becomes the sole responsibility of the players.
There’s just too much here for one table to
contain, and no one for one designer, no matter how far seeing, to know how it
all fits together.
That can only come
out through actual play.
And that really is the best part about Cha’alt: Fuchsia
Malaise. It isn’t a book meant to be
read and shelved, but a concept meant to be taken down, taken apart, and put
back together in ways no one can possibly understand until its guts are laid out across the table, the fun has been
had, the dust has settled, and the malaise worn fully off. Like the best works of art, Cha’alt: Fuchsia Malaise isn’t just a book. It’s an
experience.
You can get the digital copy at DriveThruRPG, but you'll want to spring for the hardcover direct from Venger.
