No Monster is Unbeatable
The backdrop of both my active campaigns is borrowed from a short story I wrote for a Creative Writing class back in 2016: on the small continent of Adralune, consequently named Oldenfolk after the arrival of settler-colonizers who, in their ignorance, deigned the land unclaimed, and in their arrogance, chased away its indigenous inhabitants.
The overarching BBEG is a being called Lorukan, Lord of the Void, Deity of the Old World. He is not evil in the modern sense of the word, but He is ancient and therefore unconstrained by morals governing the present. His church, however, fit the bill of the corrupt antagonist and His Aspects (clerics able to channel a fraction of his Power upon His blessing) fully embody His destructive, manipulative character and are on a mission to spread chaos and despair in His name.
On paper, this is nothing out of the ordinary as far as fantasy stories go.
Lorukan represents a looming existential threat for both parties and the kind of terror He invokes is beyond the realm of the rational, in the same vein of childhood fears. Every time our heroes "defeat" an Aspect of Lorukan, they are reminded that they are fighting against a being closer to an Idea rather than a physical thing you can punch into submission (though lord knows they've tried).
I try to use the Church of Lorca sparingly, and when they do make an appearance they are more a political force than a mystical one. Lorukan - despite his omnipresence in the narrative - in fact is far from the main reason why the party is on a difficult adventure outside the occasional encounter against an Aspect; it is the truly evil men, greedy aristocrats, opportunistic vampires, commonfolk harassers, deceptive clergy, social shapeshifters, the bored and bigoted guards of the cities... the defenseless open camp, the loss of supplies along the road, prejudice against the color of your skin and the number of horns on your head. Without these immediate dangers the journey seems linear, the world feels made out of plastic. Yes, the end of life as we know it is nigh but also a small town needs our help fending off rabid wolves. One is never more important than the other.
In fiction, the role of antagonists tend to be a mirror to reveal fundamental truths about the protagonists. Who they are, how they act in the face of adversity.
Reality is stranger than fiction, often more grotesque, infinitely more depressing. What do we do, when faced with the knowledge that villains so unspeakably vile and depraved live among us? A cabal of Upper Echelon Demons practicing literal ritual sacrifice and the debasement and devouring of humans is not even the worst I can think of.
Last weekend while hanging out with friends in LB, the inevitable topic of What Is To Be Done was brought up. E. was obviously tired and disheartened and made a snarky comment about us gathering on a weekend while the rest of the world burns down (it has been for a while, I thought, and yet we persist). It's exhausting, I know, to be constantly exposed to news about the Evils of the Ruling Class and to be able to discern which ones are mere distractions and which ones need closer attention - which Villain is immediate? Which Villain is harder to kill? We feel powerless because we truly are in this state, unorganized and embedded in our petty bourgeois lifestyles but it's also unproductive to wallow in individual despair while our more revolutionary peers are risking their necks out there. The least we can do is refuse to be pessimistic Dead Weight and take care of each other and ourselves, tighten the bond across our communities and become each other's lifelines. The least we can do is continue to be informed and continue to inform others and be kind and be vigilant. The least we can do is form a party and dread and celebrate the times together. We owe these to each other.
On the way home I thought about that question. What Is To Be Done? I couldn't get it out of my head, not because I don't know the answer but because it cascades onto a million other questions. What do we really mean when we say we want to go to the mountains and take up arms knowing full well we can't, at least right now? Is it simply gallows humor or a feeble attempt at consoling one's self? Why can't we be honest and find our own words to describe what we need from each other? What do we actually owe each other? How much grace can we afford to be able to just be happy in the moment, be cozy in each other's presence? Do we even like each other's company or are we placeholders to an imagined community? I don't think we are betraying the movement by sharing a drink because we were tired and we wanted to be comforted in the company of people we trust. If anything it's disrespectful to pretend we don't have these privileges. But I also am sure I would have said the same things as E. if I was in one of my moods. Was I being unkind to be impatient whenever the burnout of political defeat is brought up, even when I share the same sentiments? Or is it because I expected these things to be obvious among us and thought we were standing on level ground, only to find out on the way back home that we're not? I can't escape the sole yearning of my 30s - to be in spaces where affirmations of love need not be uttered. There is contradiction here in that I also care about my ability to (over)communicate and that's the kind of culture I want to cultivate in my circles.
In my earlier years being active in the movement I would chide my friends for not being as angry as I am - this kind of self-righteous, self-centered attitude burned bridges and we were weaker for it. I don't want to commit the same mistake (though I still am very angry, I'd like to think I'm much less judgmental). I realize I was projecting my own guilt for not being able to do enough.
Ultimately as radical leftists we know what to do or so I hope we do so I won't bore anyone with a lecture. But just as the revolution doesn't happen overnight, we won't be able to magically transform ourselves and our communities into their ideal versions in one sitting. Take one step at a time and don't forget you can't contribute anything that you don't have and that nobody is tracking if you've done enough. That we haven't lost hope in spite of the grueling reality of survival in our age speaks volumes already. When we are healthy and we are loved, we are better primed to participate in activism and defeat the multiple monsters of our era.
With that being said, I understand E.'s frustration. It's easy to say that all we need is to build more resilient forms of mutual interdependence when these require time and effort. I always get envious of collectives in the 70s because they were more sustainable in their day when jobs where more stable and people had more time and headspace for political engagements and creative projects. This isn't the case anymore in 202-. A month into my current job I quickly learned that I only essentially get one full day for my personal activities, which I unsuccessfully divide between reading, writing, and other hobbies, and because I'm getting older, skincare and exercise (tentative).
When I start to feel discouraged about our situation and fighting against the enemy seems too daunting, I turn, to nobody's surprise, to other people's writing.
By Mao Tse-tung:
All reactionaries are paper tigers. In appearance, [they] are terrifying, but in reality they are not so powerful. From a long term point of view, it is [...] the people who are really powerful.
By Ursula K. Le Guin:
We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings.
Today's Stat Block
STR: 0
DEX: 0
CON: -1 A little tired maintaining the cleanliness of the house
INT: +1 Learning how to animate objects in Adobe After Effects
WIS: +1 Ruminated on a lot of things about my local community
CHA: -1 Struggling with dry skin on my face and around my nose