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Uae oS Seat eet em UBB LE 2aslvles 05.12 ® ea Na aera ae eS Gere eae Tai ae, - pene Use gia eyes era if ae PONY ile Sodio sath ichte renee Seite Ma. oo A Cee Fe ee aon she a0, (SRS i eee Ce ete ea Freire yee sie tlat eM sus on eee Ci aeatene ay frzal 00 irate Rea Ct Rat re eee nti tan t AR Tots Te. Come tay acy Cathe gyre ai: Renae Brat nO sh ay Re eee coe spi anit ee ae tu) se) areneCHAPTER One: It’s THE SLAYER’s Wortp, WE JusT PLAY HERE CHAPTER Two: SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED orgs fe on ars CHAPTER THREE: RULES, BORDERS AND AN END ZONE CHAPTER FOUR: PLAYING WITH PRIMAL FORCES NI ea eA Ld CHAPTER Six: CREATURES OF THE NIGHT ears ea] ae Ae ae ease SEAL laa hd Uri cy a cr BI} ey or) 160 sey rly) 226 ra)dl 0" The waiting by cheistopher golden “This bites.” A strong wind blew across Crestwood Cemetery, whis- pering the dork secrets of the dead as it passed amongst the tombstones and whistled through the cracks in the walls of each crypt. But Buffy Summers wasn’t listening, She knew each of the thirteen cemeteries in Sunnydale, California as though they were her own beck yard—hell, she spent more time in he boneyards than she did at home-—and being amongst the graves ofthe town’s dead hhad lost its ability to induce even the tiniest shiver There was @ lull off she heard the creak of a rusty hinge. the wind, and somewhere not far ‘Though she know it wes mercly the reselling of one of the crypt dors oF the one on the maintenance sh ign filled in so many other imeges. Back of Bulfy’s neck. ‘Kay, she thought. Maybe ust one ity-billy shiver. Bolty smiled to herself her imagina- A chill ran up the Ina freaky wayilit wos good tolknaw she wes cepeble of a good old-feshioned wig- gins. the feat of crecpy nothing. After cll, she hed dealt “with so many somethings in the lest few years, ever since she had learned what she was. ‘The Slayer. The one gil in all the world chosen by powers beyond her reckoning to combet the forces of darkness. Chosen. It-had its, pros and cons, no. doubt about that. On the plus sid, there was the whole super human thing—strength, speed. quick healing, those ihings didn’t suck. On the other hand, being the Slayer meant she had e duty to hunt monsters until one of thein Killed her. Given the hazards-of the job—being’ public ‘enemy number one as far 6s the nasty ol Forces of dark- ‘ne8s were concerned—the killing thing was pretty much _guatantced to happen sooner than she would like. Buffy figured one hundred was a nice round numbers “bit She'd be lucky to make it out of her lens. as much as it hed when she had first learned Vnot she was Chosen. Like all Slayers, she had « Watcher to guide her. Giles was tops with the demony knowledge, end had) given her the combat training she needed, but he was more than that: This was his fight too. He looked out for her. Plus, unlike most Slayers, Buffy had not accepl- FOREWORD Even that did not haunt her os muchas it might ha¥e— cd the idea put forth by the Council of Watchers that to be an effective Slayer she had to alicnate all her friends. Screw that ibe WRB Bobicing et thove thin anyiting on: this warm spring night when e herd breeze was blowing! in off the Pacific was that she was stone cold bored. Bulty. slumped against « granite grave marker end thumped her head back against the stone. Bored, bored, bored. “This really bites,” she muttered fo the darkness and the dead Sunnydale was right on top of the Hellmouth. a place where the barrier between the human world and the demon dimensions was worn thin. It was like & mage nel, drawing monsters from ell oyet, Neerly every night she pelrolled the town looking for trouble, and mast of the time she found it in some form ar another. Somehow she managed to work in some hang tine with Willow and Xender, not to mention her Mort. But there was no petrolling Ranight. Even though she could think of a dozen things she should have been or would rather have been doing instead, tonight, all she could do was wait. So she sat here with her beck against the gravestone— fecling the engraved letters of a dead man’s name on her bback—and she waited and she stared atthe Freshly turned earth of the grave across from her, and she wondered when Sashe Kopeki wes going to come back to life. ‘An immoge swam up into her mind of Sosha in her Saar uniform. The girl had graduated high “chao! the previous spring and had been attending UC TBinydale, but Buffy only remembered her from the time Shepherself hed briefly been part of the cheerleading "> squid Sesha hadn’t been the prettiest girl on the squad ad she had certainly not bcen the best, but when it came -Waltege and tcam spirit, the dead girl was sec- cond to none. Wes being the key word there, Buffy thought. Sasha's pretty much second to everyone these days. The gil had) been Killed by # stay vamp who had wandered into Sunnydale to check out the Hellmauth, and to find out ifButfy had the Slayer was really as tough as they seid already dusted the moron, proving the point. But Seshe was unfinished business. With @ sigh, the Slayer rested her head: against the tombstone again. Her eyes began to flutter closed ‘Almost the moment they did, she heerd the soft sound of Girt sprinkling to the ground. OF digging Butfy’s eyes snopped open and she glanced over at Sasha's grave. Slender white fingers jutled from the freshly turned eerth, clawing et the dirt around them, destroying the dead girl's French manicure. A weve of sadness passed through Buffy for the excitable cheer- leader with the blinding smile. But Sasha was dead now. Tk wos her fingers that bored their way up from the dirt, her hands that burst From the ground, her erm that thrust forth ond dragged the rest of her body from the grave. But Sasha was deed. ‘The corpse crouched beside the hole it had burrowed up from its coffin, clad in e simple and elegant black dress. Sasha's blond hair had been arranged lovingly in her cesket but now it was crusted with moist earth Buffy thought she saw 0 worm dangling near the dead girl's car. About time.” Buffy told her. “1 thought I es gonne {20 groy wailing for you. And, brerr at that thought.” Seshe whipped around to face her, rising up elmost to hheF full height but still somehow fercl. Yellow eyes ‘lared al. Buffy in the darkness. ‘The girl's face was not cat all the wayBuffy remembered, but that was no fault of memory. It had more to-do with the metamorphosis her features had undergone, the way thet her forchead end cheeks hed become ridged and cruel and inhuman. Vampiric. The undead girl grinned, then, but instead of the per- | tect smile Bully recalled her mouth wes twisted in a redatory rctu, floshing deadly Fangs. | “1 remember you," the vampire said, woice raspy from disuse, The voice of the grave Baily stood across the disturbed grave from Sasha end ‘ached inside her zippered sweatshirt for the stake she carried in the pocket sewn in there "No ou don’t.” the Slayer soi Confused, the vampire frowned, lips curling back’sav-. agely from thase fangs» *Yeahi~1 do." “Those aren't your memories,” Buffy told her, » hort ble revulsion roiling in her gut. “They belong to Sesha.” ‘am Sasha,” the vampire hissed. “No you're not,” Buffy replied calmly. “You're just the thing that’s living off her corpse. Like a maggot” With a roar of fury, the vampire lunged ecross the ‘open grave, fingernails hoaked into claws, features con- torted with demonic ferocity. It Jeapt at Buffy» who spun aut of its way. Sasha rushed her from behind and Buffy took a single step backward—towerd the vampire—and shot an elbow into its face. Seshe's surgically recon- siructed nase exploded in a gush of blood and e splin- tering of bone. Buffy leaped into the cir, spun around and shot 4 high kick af the vampire’s face. I staggered beckward and fell over the gravestone Buffy herselt had beenJeaning against forthe past two hours. The vampire’ legs were splayed, the hem of its burl dress hanging lke curtain aver the front ofthat stone. ‘The Slayer leaped over the marker and landed on the vampire’ ches, plunging the stake into the dead girs hear. Sasha whimpered once, eyes locked on Butfy’s “I remember you,” she whispered ‘Then she exploded into a cloud of cinder and ash that was swept away by the warm Pacific breeze. “No you don’t,” Buffy said to the night, to the dark: ness. “No. You don’t.” ‘Then she turned and strode quickly from the cemetery, wanting to put it behind her as quickly os posible, She would go to the Bronze, where she hoped to find her friends hanging out, maybe dancing, depending on what band was playing tonight. With them she would laugh, ‘and: in laughing, she would begin to forget, end she ‘would fill hr life up with the things that mattered, the things that reminded her what she wes fighting for. Buffy would talk, and she would move, and she would dance. She would use the time she had in this world, and she would not be bored, Nothing ebout being Chosen bothered her more then those times when boredom set ‘in, when she had to sit in the graveyerd and we Nothing was worse than the waiting.Buffy : oo Deed ee aM I Os the CBlayer's World, Oe Just Play Sore McNamara: You te ‘Buffy: This is not your business Initiative, te Boys in the Pentago pur heads. “Messing with Prim ng me my business? mine. You, the owe all ix way val forces wou MeNamare: And you do? Biffy Tm the Slayer. You're playing om my tr. 1.21 rimeval eee tn 5; the co¥e image caught your eye, or your Buffy aati eapsled you, o ep some elle fresblings knocked « pile of books from the top shelf ‘onio your head—whatever the reason, you decided to Hip through, ond now read (of all things!) the Buffy the Vampire Sloyer roleplaying game (BIVS RPO) corebook. Isnt that special. You have just embarked cn your ewn personal roleplaying trip. a’ The roleplaying veterans among you—thase gaming grognardsknow most of this intro stuff already. And those familier with Unisystem games will find very little new here, You folks can skip ahead to the ather juicy bits of this ‘chapter, or even straight to character creation in Chapter Two#)Some Assembly Required. Nothing for you to see here,, Mave along, move along, ae ; Now that those types are outte here, we can fill your heads With al sorts of nonsense about roleplaying, with na fear © of contradiction. First off i's an'casy way of making major bundles of cosh. Just send a en-dollar bill to us ot Buffy: Spike what are y Spike (between blows): Same reason as you and your Cub scout flere, 1 wager. Wanted a spot of violence: ‘before bectime foing here 5.4 Out of My Mire for aeaenNot buying thal, are you? Okay, in truth, a roleplay ing gaine is about shered storytelling. You get together with several friends and create a tale. In the case of the BIVS RPG, there's @ bunch of large incisors, staking and good fashion sense involved, but that’s not all. Unlike any other kind of game, your group's story can take you, the characlers and the Buffyverse anywhere you want it to. The ection takes place in your imaginations, and the story is told through your interactions. There are truly no limits. The great thing about roleplaying games is that the direction of the story and the creative choices, are all about you. Seriously, you rule! Each of you creates a character, an alternative persona that becames your “in geome” role. This is your Cost Member, You choose the character's strengths end weak nesses, abilities and imitations, and—in particular—per- sondlty. During the course of the game, you make this Cast Member's decisions, utterances and actions. You put words in her mouth, spring in her step and joy in her heart. Or maybe you just brood a lot end kick butt. No sweat, that’s a valid lifestyle choice too, fou like. you can play any of the charaélers from our favorite TV show (ah. . . Buffy, duh®). Or you might make something up, say Trep, the old homeless men, or Biff, the muscle-headed jock, or Glenda, the spacey goth fgaljior any number of other folks. Whatever you do, Know thet you've got o bit of an edge. You are one of the good guys, the white hats, the charmpions—or atleast ‘are helping the heroes os ¢ loyal, nd trusted Scagby. Nowsthat’Sinot to say your creation wor't heve a dark ‘of fio. It wouldn't be the Buffyverse without th little darkness. Again, that’s up to you. Tae Director All the players and Cast Members are important, but ‘one of you is extra special, and it’s most likely you who. fare reading this book right now. What... you knew that alrcady® Figured as much, The special player is called the Director. The Director stands slightly epert (end | ‘maybe upwind) from the other players because she docs ‘the bulk of the ... welll... gamme directing. That's right, the Director is the first among the creators. She actual- ly sets the scene, plots the plot, details the descriptions ‘and engeges in other nifty elliterations. She makes the: game go by providing fun stuff for the Cast Members tow do, not the least of which is ensuring that everyone has something to dust on a fairly gular basis The Directar also casts and speaks for the other char- acters—anyone that the Cast Members meet in their adventures. If these folks are neulralor even helpful to ) the Cast, they are called Guest Stars. A Guest Star could be the homeless guy on the street who witnessed the vamp attack, the perky cheerleader assaulted by the youth-sucking demon, the old witch who has en ancient tarne for sale, or someone more mundane . . . oF more twisted, These folks come into the Cast Members’ lives, do their part for the plot and leave they are recurring types: a Cast Member could even fall in love with one of them and she could become @ regu: lar, “Hey, it happens a lot in the BIVS TV show. IF the Director-controlled characters are, out for Cast Member blood . . . or worse, they are called Adversries ‘These include the vamps, demons and other nestics—up to ‘ond including the Big Bad. These Folks deserve » thorough dusting. How that happens is up tothe Cast Members. Buffy: Har— (snort) Harmony fas mi—min ions? Xander: Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction. Buffy: I'm sorry... Ljust..« (new laughter) SHarmony has minions! Xander: And Ruffles have there's eptaiy sno oes nace ‘Buffy (eyes tearing): 1 sure hopeso,. Lm hx a Deiber-athna vp | Unless, of course, 52 The Real Me All-rules decisions are handed down by the Director (osually with some discussion from the other players— welike to think of it as enlightened despotism here). She figures out how end when to use the. game mechanics and decides the outcomes of cerlain rolls. She makes sure things don't get bogged down in all thet“ shot yous ro you didn’, yes | did, nyahy nyahy nyeb" stuff we used ta gélisuch a kick out of as kids. All that rules stuf is covered much more in the rest of this book. Finally the Director mey provide the goming room, eidded deluxe geming seals end some major snack- lege, Depends on how generous she is feeling. Or how Bee the cle payors ty 1a wuck vp by in thet WHF: Most Directors are oll in fovor of players doing the Sucking up thing. a Stssions ; From @ couple hours to an entire weekend (depends an how crazed you are ebout the whole thing). There is no formal stort or end—that’s up to the Director and play= ers to-decide. Also, in roleplaying, no ane gets to brag about being the winner. The flipside Is that no one hestobe the loser. The objective isto create a story, engage in some spontaneous and often hilarious conversations, ‘and have a good time with friends. And no, no elec tronics of any kind are necessary. Prelty uncivilized, ch® ‘Now, don’t go thinking there is no structure here. It's ‘na madhouse, 1 tell you. The game is divided into Episodes, resolved in one or more couple-hour gaming sessions. ‘These are plotlines or linked. subplots. thet make up a single story, just ike each hour-long TY show. Episodes and their related story arcs may be strung together to form a Season, and several Seasons lead into the Series, the whole story crested by the interaction between the players’ Cast Members and the Director. (Or you auld just pley one session and bash some bad lecth types. We suspect thal, once you get sterid, you'll want to play again. Roleplaying gemncs ere insidious like thet. Again, its all up to you. Grttine Startep ‘Buffy: 1's my first day! 1 as afraid that 1 was ‘gonna be behind in all of my classes, that I Wouldn't make any friends, that 1 would fiave last month's hair! 1 didn’t think thereld be Narpires on campus. Arid I don't care —