Scy’kadia – Narrative Aussie LARP

Scy’kadia is an Australian LARP, based in Sydney, built around the concept of “DND but you’re physically living your character.” Where many East Coast LARPs are primarily battle games, every Scy’kadia session features an often multi-layered plot devised by a team of six Storytellers and influenced by past player actions. Sessions run fortnightly (Aussie weather permitting), so after ten years, the overarching tale
has grown into quite an epic. Add to this recurring BBEGs, pay-offs months or years in the making, and new players really get to feel like they are stepping into a lived-in world. Gameplay is PvP with an emphasis on puzzle solving and discovery, though battle can break out at any time. Props with supplied instructions, NPCs portrayed by a special corps of players, and capture points like the infamous “Hopping Portal” ensure that something is always going on. The player base is largely split into five encampments, each ruled by a “Guiding Figure” portrayed by one of our Storytellers. The camps each have their own theme – the mercantile township, the wizardly scholars, the ruinous cultists, etc – and corresponding objectives, meaning your play experience (and your story) will be wildly different depending on the allies you choose.

As for rules, Scy’kadia believes in simple core concepts, with loads of additional options that become available as your character evolves and starts to earn gold for their efforts. Combat is quick (unless you have a healer on hand), and special abilities rely on a keyword (e.g. Freeze) or gesture, so first timers can at least guess at the effect with great accuracy. Beyond the basic stuff your character can do, there are also rules for crafting, casting rituals, setting up siege defences, torturing “guests,” and more. Easy to learn, almost-as-easy to master, is the best way to describe Scy’kadia’s mechanics. That said, everything else is improv acting, and players can get away with a lot without ever drawing a sword or throwing a fireball. In fact, there are also rules for non-combatants, making Scy’kadia as accessible as possible for folks with anxiety or health considerations.

Scy’kadia is Sydney’s longest-running medieval fantasy LARP, and whilst not the largest group in Australia, they still attract around a hundred players per session, with more attending their weekender events – four days of camping with an exceptionally detailed plot, held once or twice per year. The world created for Scy’kadia pays homage to many real-world cultures and folklores, allowing players to bring their stock standard Viking, knight, or samurai garb. Certain realms are also influenced by popular fantasy tropes, for the elf, dwarf, and orc lovers. Despite the familiarity, Scy’kadia adds its own unique twist to each realm and playable species, so that speaking to a “Thaedian Legionnaire” feels different to speaking to a “Roman Soldier.” The Scy’kadia Wiki goes even further, discussing the Gods and lesser deities, major historical events, and even Scy’kadian views on gender and sexuality (which veers away from real-world prejudices). If you’re looking for a LARP in the Sydney region that allows you to become your character and impact the future of a fantastical world, Scy’kadia is your best bet.

Now, just for fun, let’s leave you with part of a short story set in Scy’kadia:

‘We’re lost,’ grumbled Calik, loud enough for her comrades to overhear. ‘You’ll lose something ‘fore long if you don’t shut up,’ growled Gerald. ‘Aren’t you swamp rats meant to be –’ He snapped his fingers, fishing for the right word.
‘Optimists,’ supplied Felion, still absorbed with the trail ahead. ‘Nay, we’re that oth’n fancy word o’ yours,’ spat Calik, her fierce eyes fixed on Gerald.
‘Ree-aliss-tic,’ grunted Uggol. The others turned at that, surprised to hear the usually quiet orc speak. He scratched at his scarred jaw. ‘Calik not pretend we found, when we lost. That dumb human trick anyway.’
Wide eyes and raised brows greeted his pronouncement. ‘Well, I for one, think we should congratulate our tusked companion on his escalating grasp of trader tongue,’ called Miyuka, a moment before her slender face peeped over the edge of the wagon’s sidewall. ‘Yes, well done Uggol,’ Felion smirked, ‘learn any more words and we might promote you to chief haggler!’ Uggol gave an uncaring shrug. Gerald scowled up at Miyuka. ‘I see the witch has woken.’ ‘I was not sleeping,’ she yawned, sliding out of the wagon. ‘I was in a deep trance.’ ‘Call it what you will,’ Gerald snorted, ‘laziness and sorcery go hand in hand.’ ‘An Arkhosian would say that,’ she sighed. ‘Your people seek fault in everything the least bit foreign. I’m surprised you don’t shout witchcraft when the leaves turn from green to brown!’
‘I’d wager some of them do,’ quipped Felion. ‘Enlighten me then, witchlings!’ Gerald cast his glare over them both. ‘Was there some purpose to this trance? Other than resting your feet…’ Miyuka joined them in the middle of the trail. ‘I was attempting to discern a path forward,’ she pouted. Gerald spat and jerked a thumb at Felion. ‘We already have a scout.’ Miyuka wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘Yet here we are, not a step closer to our destination… you know, for a noble-born, Gerald, you are the very crassest of brutes.’ She stepped around the spatter of fluids and faced away from her allies, taking in the surrounding woodlands.
The wide trail curved to the right, vanishing into closely spaced pines. None of the travellers, alas, could figure out which wood this was; despite three days and two nights searching for any recognizable landmark. Trees upon trees, yet nothing resembling the markers on their map. A map they had purchased from a less-than-reliable merchant, met on the road a cycle past. ‘Pray you don’t cross our path again, swindler,’ Miyuka muttered bitterly for the hundredth time, recalling the man’s suspiciously smug expression. Calik sidled up beside Miyuka. ‘Your trance, Lo’Quaim, any luck?’
Miyuka shook her head. ‘I was sleeping,’ she whispered. The two women shared a laugh. ‘Scout, report!’ barked Gerald, eager to disperse their merriment. ‘Our map says we should be two days out,’ Felion began, ‘but there’s scant sign of woodlands. By all accounts, we should be stood in open fields –’ ‘Then what of these?’ Gerald thumped the nearest pine with an iron gauntlet. ‘Cannot explain, mus’ be magic,’ growled Uggol softly. Everyone but Gerald began to snigger. ‘What?!’ Gerald’s scowl deepened with confusion. ‘Don’t tell ‘im,’ chortled Calik, ‘by the Gods, don’t tell ‘im!’ ‘Our orc has advanced to humour!’ Miyuka beamed at Uggol, who merely shrugged once more. Comprehension finally dawning, Gerald jabbed a warning finger at Uggol. ‘It’s never too late to cut you loose, stray!’ Uggol bared his fangs. ‘Hold a moment!’ Felion ceased chuckling. ‘Is sorcery such a leap in logic? They say the Weft is prone to mutation, sporadic manifestations. Perhaps these trees are… a recent addition?’ Gerald backed away from the pine he had struck. ‘That is true of the Weft,’ explained Miyuka, ‘but we’re not there yet. You’re a fine navigator with a shoddy map, Felion. Two days out you say, then two days out we are. Mystery woods or not.’ Felion gave an appreciative bow as Miyuka continued. ‘Besides, the borders aren’t known for such…’ she swept her arm toward the surrounding trees. ‘…expansive emergences. We’re in no great peril.’ Uggol sniffed at the air, sliding a crude mace from his belt. Calik, likewise, drew her twin axes, staring with mounting alarm at the horses tethered to their wagon. ‘I said we’re in no –’ Miyuka began, but then she too noticed the wild look in the mares’ eyes, the way they stamped and snapped. Panicked.
An enormous shape barrelled onto the trail some forty yards behind them. As the beast turned to face them, the wind shifted, carrying a stench of rotten meat and fetid water. The horses thrashed against their holdings, mad with fear, only the wagon’s brake preventing them from dashing away. ‘Troll! To arms!’ Gerald hefted his greatsword from its shoulder cradle. Felion unslung his rifle, desperately fumbling for the flash-powder horn by his side. Miyuka, her elegant glaive nestled in the back of the wagon, could do little but flex her fingers, steadying her mind in preparation. They stood still, waiting for the brute to make a move. Twin heads, jutting tusks dripping slimy drool, swung ponderously towards the braying horses.
It began its charge.