Opposition

 The Nazis

Brash enactors of violent action, brutes who wield the strength of one powerful, perverse idea— that what’s evil is actually good. They’re so dedicated to destroying the world that they’re already planning their own ruins and digging their own graves. Until then, they’re building an empire at lightning-speed, based on overwhelming force and folk psychology, riding into marches and toppling authorities, putting everyone in prison, making everyone march, resorting everything into cells. They bring a peace that’s like war. Once they locate the right magic items, they’ll win World War 2.

Some nazis operate ugly mechanisms, with boxy pistols and throaty microphones and crooked blades. Others stand at podiums and heap venom on their foes. Others keep their head down and pass on news of dissidence. They design supply chains and organizations as metaphors for wolf packs or masculinity. 

d6 encounter table: bugbears, high-level fighter, dervishes, werewolves, wights, harpies

The Reds

Inscrutable infiltrators with an intellectual aversion to whatever you champion. In their palaces of pounded dirt, they claim to have finally perfected the philosopher’s stone. Perhaps they’re right. Too strong to invade and too scrupulous to let you be, they charm and replace and undermine and gossip and prove. Once they steal the codes, they’ll start World War Three.

Some reds are part of their ample military, strong like ox. Others stand in front of big screens in dark rooms and talk into a telephone. Others remove their working class American tie to reveal a Hammer and Sickle hiding under there. They linger in odd places at night, smoking a cigarette, and utter trigger phrases, oddly persuasive.

d6 encounter table: doppelgangers, mind flayer, goblins, high-level thief, grey ooze, ogres

The Green

One man with one dream of endless power, but also a fleet of flunkies, platoons of killers vindicated by paychecks, and populations humming with adulation for this one’s man’s ambition, his heedless drive to make a buck. He believes in something beautiful; it ornaments his baseness. Everything he cannot buy he strangles, and everything he owns he neglects. With enough gold, he’ll finally be complete.

Sometimes he is sporting, flipping you a tip on the way to the tennis match. Otherwise he’s at a desk, his thumb hovering over a button that stops people from healing your family. Otherwise he’s packed with oddly-fitting muscle, the beneficiary of a dozen shortcuts and other peoples’ sweat. He assesses the value of everything and shows he’s worldly with friendly banter that reveals he has no friends because he admits no equal.

d6 encounter table: dragon, veterans, high-level cleric, carrion crawlers, gelatinous cubes, giant leeches

The King

Relic of an ancient order, bootstrapping his way onward, he few, ever onward, through new brutalities and fresh myths about divine right. Accustomed to absolute obedience and confused by developing realities. Greatly interested in armies and fleets and other toys. He just needs to play the modern factions off each other until modernity rots away and prestige is god again.

Sometimes he leads visitors on tours of his subjects drilling with foreign military science. Other times, he is lounging with delights while his people starve. Other times, he is thoughtless commissioning dangerous people to solve an annoyance for him. He can’t help but fail to explain how his octogenarian dynasty, his ownership of cultural monuments, his own expensive tutelage mints him as the only appropriate ruler.

d6 encounter table: pirates, lions, mummy, elephants, gargoyles, manticore

The Counts

Graceful aristocrats who have stepped pleasantly into the new way of doing things. With bowler hats and grey suits and demographic census data, they still strut with the verve needed to show that they invented the international order. From wineries and on yachts, they effuse so reasonably, so well-informedly, that to contradict them with mere principles feels gauche. They no longer seek anything at all, but are desperately afraid of anyone changing the way of things.

Some counts assemble committees to assess wrongdoing. Others lead unfashionable armies with spindly weapons and banners of lilac, sunflower, or robin’s egg. Others assemble complexes full of art and literature to finally sum up and conclude history’s entirety. They sit across the table at place settings where only they know what fork to use and explain beautifully how a dead thief’s haul has to stay with his heirs, or else we are no more than animals.

d6 encounter table: vampire, crocodiles, dryads, elves, living statues, merchants

The Knights

The fun ones. An order of fun-loving patriots, inured to violence and sworn to avenge or reclaim, only to be betrayed and abandoned by powers who never felt the romantic compulsion of the freedom-fighter. Swing between heroic aspiration and a nihilistic acceptance that their reason for being was a lie and everyone in the world wants them dead. If they can just take and hold the capital, and put holes in all their enemy demographics, they’ll finally be free.

Some knights come selling a dream to angry youths and duck out when the arrows start flying. Others lurk in overgrown ruins and  smoke big cigars, rubbing drug-dealer doubloons all over them. Others roll up to some opposition stronghold and convince them to give the knights everything they have, then burn the place down. These are the only opposition on the list who accept that they’re going to die, and so they live and they kill and they live and they kill and they live.

d6 encounter table: brigands, tigers, elementals, giants, giant hawks, hydras