There was always going to be something missing from my Church of Dagon posse. I could have the priests, the faithful, the Deep Ones and all the other unpleasant things that crawl out of the dark places, but sooner or later somebody was going to ask the obvious question. Where is Dagon?

The answer is now standing on the gaming table.

For the “Big Guy” I have used the Giant Mutant from the Mantic Haunted House boxed set, a suitably enormous and thoroughly unpleasant miniature that, with the right treatment, makes a very convincing Dagon look alike. He towers over the rest of the posse, which is exactly what I wanted. This is not supposed to be another hired gun who wanders into the saloon looking for work. This is something ancient, monstrous and decidedly beyond the normal scale of Dracula’s America.

The Thing Beneath the Water

The Church teaches that Dagon was old when mankind first learned to fear the darkness beyond the firelight. He slept beneath black waters while nations rose and disappeared, hearing the prayers of those who understood that the sea does not belong to humanity and never has. Most dismissed such stories as the ravings of isolated fishing communities, although those who investigated too closely had an unfortunate habit of disappearing.

Then came the Shadow War.

As supernatural forces spread across America, the barriers separating the ordinary world from older and considerably less pleasant places began to weaken. The priests of Dagon recognised their opportunity. Their rituals became more ambitious, their sacrifices greater and their congregations increasingly convinced that they were not merely worshipping an absent god. Something was listening.

Eventually, something answered.

Whether the creature discovered and worshipped by the Church really is Dagon is another question entirely. Perhaps it is the Old One himself, somehow trapped in a dormant state within the mortal world. Perhaps it is an avatar, a lesser servant wearing a shape that the human mind can comprehend, or simply some enormous Deep One elevated by generations of worship into something approaching divinity. The priests have no doubts.

They call him Father Dagon.

Everyone else calls him something considerably less polite while running in the opposite direction.

Putting Dagon on the Table

There are no official rules for fielding Dagon in Dracula’s America, and I actually think that is a good thing. Giving him a normal profile, a points value and the possibility of being shot dead by an enthusiastic cowboy with a six shooter rather misses the point. Dagon should not simply become another large model in the posse. He should be an event.

Rather than having Dagon suddenly appear when a ritual succeeds, I prefer the idea of making the model the physical centrepiece of the table from the beginning. Dagon is already there, dormant and unmoving, perhaps standing within a flooded cavern, an abandoned chapel, a ruined mission or some ancient ritual site that the Church has discovered and claimed as its own. The great creature does nothing at first, but its presence dominates the battlefield and makes it perfectly clear what the Church is trying to achieve.

The scenario therefore becomes a race to awaken Dagon. The Church must reach the ritual site, protect its priests and complete whatever ceremonies are required to stir the sleeping Old One, while the opposing posse must break through the congregation and stop them. Dagon remains on the table throughout the game, looming over proceedings as a rather substantial reminder of what will happen if the defenders fail.

I think this works particularly well for Dracula’s America because the actual fighting can still use the normal rules. There is no need to invent an enormous collection of statistics for Dagon because, while he sleeps, he does not need any. He is effectively terrain, an objective and a very large threat all rolled into one.

The Church might need to accumulate a number of successful ritual actions, hold several sacred locations around Dagon, or keep its preacher alive and within the ritual area for a set number of turns. Their opponents know exactly what is happening and exactly how long they have to stop it. As the ritual progresses there could even be signs that something is changing. Dagon begins to stir, the ground trembles, strange noises come from the water and everyone sensible starts wondering whether whatever they are being paid is really worth it.

If the opposing posse disrupts the ritual before it is completed, Dagon remains dormant and the Church has failed. If the Church completes the ritual, Dagon awakens and the game is over. There is no final battle against him and no opportunity for somebody to produce a lucky shot and kill an ancient horror with a revolver. The Church has achieved its objective, the Old One has awakened and anybody still hanging around to see what happens next has seriously misunderstood the situation.

Most importantly, I would never include Dagon as a permanent member of the Church posse. His appearance should be rare enough that seeing the model standing in the middle of the table immediately tells everyone that this particular game is going to be something different.

The Giant Mutant gives me exactly the imposing model I wanted for the role. He may never receive an official Dracula’s America profile and he certainly will not be turning up every week alongside the Church gunslingers, but that really does not matter.

After all, if you are going to build a Church of Dagon, sooner or later you have to wake the Big Guy up.

In a few days I will post “An Awakening of Dagon” scenario in the Dracula’s America scenario style for you to use.