Confessions of Not a Grognard

Kingdoms of Kalamar Play Report: Session III - Mopping up Bandits

2011-06-30T08:37:00.001-07:00

Last night's session went off well for the most part, though there was a disagreement as to the procedure for treasure division amongst the players. All shook hands in the end and it seems that there's a working provision going forward for how these kind of things are to be handled. Hopefully.

Basking in the glow of the villagers' adulation at peacefully solving their problems, the party settled into the inn to drink, celebrate, and unsuccessfully proposition the barmaid (much chagrined to learn that she was a slave and had negative opinions about the current social order of things). The party met a young bard named Walter that evening as he gave a punji concert to anybody (nobody) who would listen and decided that he would make a fine addition to the party. A tentative agreement that "we should really investigate those other bandits . . ." was reached and everybody found their ways to bed and rest.

The morning arrived and the gnomes departed while the party made ready to track down the bandits. Various plans were discussed including "dressing down" and lying in ambush while posing as merchants or helpless travelers amongst others, but it was readily agreed that the best start would be to visit the site of the original ambush and look for any tracks that might remain after 24 hours, and speaking with the sole survivor of the attack that they had rescued. The girl was able to reveal that her parents were spice merchants and that the attack was sudden and violent. Early on she was shot with an arrow and collapsed, but she remembers seeing "a hideously ugly bandit with arms that hung nearly to his knees, perhaps some sort of half-orc" but otherwise they were unremarkable in any way.

A quick investigation of the ambush site revealed some interesting things First, there was the obvious signs of the melee and combat that had happened there, including, still, some blood stains. Their own tracks, travelling west to east, were also present. Another set of tracks, a single individual, travelled at a run from east to west through here, perhaps hours after the party had gone through the first time. Much speculation about spies and unseen watchers was indulged in.

Most interesting, though, was the obvious signs of the bandits. Fever was able to make out the initial hiding places of the attackers, how they had charged the field, slain the family, and then carted off the valuables and headed north towards hills somewhat visible in the distance. They were obviously burdened with something heavy (the loot?) as they went. The direction for the party was obvious.

Going quickly, the party happened upon a cleared area surrounded by a "palisade" (really more of a cow fence with delusions of granduer) surrounding several wagons, livestock, working folk, and a series of interconnected tree houses ten or more feet off the ground. At about 150 yards distant, the party was fairly certain they had not been spotted. Sending Harmony the gnome "priest" in for some scouting confirmed that the bandits had set no wary sentries and those with weapons were not paying a great deal of attention to what was going on outside the camp than to chatting with friends and family within.

Plans of battering rams were quickly dismissed and, instead, it was settled that the paladin and the bard would go forward for "negotiation" to provide a distraction while the rest of the party remained as hidden as possible and deployed for an ambush of their own, and so the paladin and the "swishy" bard approached openly calling for a parlay. Cautious, most of the unarmed folk ran immediatly for the shelter of the tree houses while a small squadron of bowmen and a large swordsman held a quick conversation. Sensing an opportunity for profit (seeing only a single paladin and his . . . pet . . . and knowing that the Order of the Eternal Lantern was in the area) in hostage ransoming, the bandits ordered the paladin to lay down his arms and surrender.

Things did not go at all as they had planned.

The duo retreated slowly before the oncoming bandits, drawing them out further into the open. The attack was sudden and brutal. Thrown daggers from the gnome and quick sword and ax work from the rest of the party along with a cleverly applied light spell made short work of most of the bowmen, leaving only the swordsman to retreat back towards the tree houses. Just as the swordsman gained the ramp, already bleeding from half a dozen wounds, a last dagger lobbed by the dwarf, of all folks, ended his life in plain sight of another squad of bowmen that had taken up station in the entrance to the tree house complex.

Seeing the swift and violent death of their fellows, the remaining bandits quickly threw up their hands and surrendered, asking only that theuy and their children be spared. They declared that whatever bandits were left would have been gathered in the shrine by their leader, Hanari. Shouts for parlay went unheeded, so the castle was stormed and the party went in armed for bear.

Luckily, or unluckily, the first door the party walked through proved to be the shrine and, in a bit of turnabout being fair play, a light spell blinded Fever the ranger, forcing him to drop to the floor as a flight of arrows hurtled through the doorway, one of which found a mark in his back. The paladin threw himself over his comrade and into combat and, displaying a remarkable ability to slay any and all foes, set about dealing death throughout the room. The rest of the party swarmed in and, within a few minutes, the entire remaining force of bandits was destroyed. Over the next hour, the party searched the hideout, looted it of all valuables, and returned to the village to a hero's welcome.

One item of note they did find was a letter addressed to the leader Hanari informing him that his payment was overdue and that soon it would be neccessary for his superiors to rectify that mistake. It was speculated that this was only a small branch of bandits under the general managment of a higher, more organized group. This would, in fact, account for the startling lack of half-orc or otherwise hideous bandits as described.

As an aside, I was a little unprepared for the capabilities of a party with so many people in it. They are extremely capable at dismantling just about anything I send in their way, so I think I'm going to begin to pump up the encounters a bit to see about challenging them more. I don't think it would go amiss to see about some monsters that would otherwise destroy such a low level party, but since there's enough of them they should manage. We'll see next time.>

Play Report: Kingdoms of Kalamar Characters

2011-06-24T10:59:00.000-07:00

Since there is no game this week, I thought I'd take a moment to introduce the victims of this campaign, good sports that they are.

Fever Oxbar: A human ranger named such because of a childhood illness. Driven from his home for reasons he keeps to himself, the man is more comfortable with animals, whom he considers more honest and honorable. One can hardly blame him.

Harmony Mezzuzah: A swamp gnome thief . . . er . . . "cleric." Yeah, that's the ticket! A happy-go-lucky wanderer that passes herself off as a basic fighting cleric, most recently visited a temple (and left quite hastily). Comes from a large family of wanderers, bards, and entertainers, two brothers and six sisters. She still keeps in touch with Brother Noah every few years. A devout follower of Barlen, the god of beer.

Dagmar Silverbeard: A male dwarven fighter from out of the precincts of Karasta, the conquered city of the dwarves. He was caught out of the city during its fall and has since devoted himself to wandering the world in search of he knows not what.

Bedewyr: The de-facto leader of the party, a Paladin of the Eternal Lantern and partial to fruit pies. A Brandobian by birth, and now an expatriat wandering the countryside of Kalamar, he eventually found his way into religious and martial training, taking up the mantle of a paladin. He is imposing and intimidating, though good of heart and eager to see justice prevail. His history as a slave has assured that he has a keen eye for the suffering of others, and a true intolerance for permitting the strong and evil to pray upon the weak.

Hallamar and Shnrissa: Hallamar, a cleric of the Fraternal Order of Aptitude, and Shnrissa, a red haired and fiery tempered warrior woman.

Halanan grew up amid sheep and very little else on his parent's farm
just outside of Sobeteta. Bored by the thought of a life spent tending
livestock, Halanan spent every free minute he could asking questions
of everything and everyone else from the 'outside' world. Curiousity
and a thirst for understanding ultimately, through a turn of events
that Halanan has spoken of to absolutely nobody about, led the
then-teenage boy to seek position among the servants of The Mule in
the Fraternal Order of Aptitude. Halanan proved to have a strong mind
for grasping mathematics and logical theory. He grasped principles of
engineering and architecture with impressive speed despite his late
coming to his calling.

He spent almost nine years reading, learning, studying, researching
everything he could, until the call of attending a new
settlement-fortress near to Bepido came. Seeing a way to combine the
ability to sate the adventurous thirst for knowledge with a chance to
share the knowledge he had already attained in a union of effort that
could only be seen as blessed by The Enlightener, Halanan quickly
volunteered to travel to Bepido. It was along the road that he met
Shnrissa, a warrior by profession who was seeking enlightenment
and a way to better herself to be more than a mere swordswoman.
Stepping in to his defense outside of a tavern he had been staying
overnight in, Shnrissa added to the plea for teaching she had left
him with the night before. He was fortunate to have her near
association when some unpleasant-looking thugs tried to lighten the
holy man's backpack, and the incident did much to persuade Halanan to
change his previous refusal to a grateful acceptance, provided that
she accompany him on his mission to Bepido and, perhaps eventually,
beyond.

Tam: Tam is a half-elven wizard just beginning his career in the arcane arts. He is quiet, reserved, and very capable with a charm spell, quick to aid those in need.

Play Report - Kingdoms of Kalamar Session II

2011-06-16T11:46:00.001-07:00

Last night was the 2nd session, and it went well, though I was startled how, in practice, just how linear Ver'Kusi/Ovini's crypt really was. Yeah, I know, it's just a crypt, but it was the subject of a fair amount of ribbing and "chugga chugga" remarks last night. Fighting a shadow and 6 zombie dogs shut them up right quick though.

Learning that Dak'Wi lived nearby and was Ver'Kusi's closest friend in life, the party decided that the best course of action would be to go and speak with him. The half-elf mage, having cast his spell for the day and enjoying a few drinks with his charmed gnome friend, stayed behind in the inn, but a red headed traveling swordswoman tagged along with the party to make up for the loss.

Approaching Dak'Wi's farm, the party noticed that it looked to be a bit lusher and better maintained than some of the neighboring farms. It seemed that this old man was a superior farmer as both clerics of the Mule opined . . . at great length . . . while referring to statistical analyses and charts that they both had stashed, presumably, in the sleeves of their robes. The rest of the party had learned, by this point, to stuff cotton in their ears at such junctures and soldier on quietly.

As they crested a small rise, they found Dak'Wi himself waiting for them while mounted on an older looking horse, waiting to meet them before they got too close. Undeterred and determined to embark on a preliminary recon, one of the clerics broke off and began to circle the house, muttering to himself while everybody else treated with the old man.

Where the negotiations with the gnomes had been rife with intimidation (a six foot tall paladin with hand on the hilt of his long sword towering over you with overt exclamations of disapproval and readiness to slaughter you out of hand), negotiations with Dak'Wi were, in comparison, remarkably polite. When informed of the situation, that hostages had been taken and that, it seemed, his old friend was at the root cause of it, Dak'Wi was sympathetic and said that, indeed, the two had been adventuring companions many years ago. Ovini/Ver'Kusi, he said, was quite good at getting his hands on treasures and of doing so quietly and stealthily, and that from time to time, he would do so even if it meant taking it out of the hands of its rightful owners. Indeed, he does know that Ovini came away from their time with the gnomes quite a bit richer, but he had learned well before then not to ask about such mysterious windfalls. That it was stolen is not overly surprising.

However, what had this to do with him? Dak'Wi, as was clearly apparant by his plain dress and simple home, had none of the treasury himself and he had buried his friend with all his worldly posessions not 6 months ago. If it were not for the assiduous politeness of the Paladin and others, the situation would have devolved into a bloody conflict next. It was clear that the only thing for it was to enter the crypt and reclaim the treasury to return to the gnomes, loathe though they might be to disturb the rest of any man. In the end, Dak'Wi agreed to lead them to the crypt as long as they promised not to disturb his friend's rest any more than was neccessary in order to protect the lives of the innocents.

While this conversation went on, the fellow who had wandered around the house and been largely ignored since he was assumed to be sick or insane found himself behind the house and spotted a few shapes moving at the edges of his vision, seemingly observing the house. Unsure of their purpose, he scrawled a message in the dirt on the ground warning the figures away from the place, that the old man was insane and dangerous. He then proceeded to rejoin the group.

About this time, an older, grizzled outdoorsman approached and seemed more interested in speaking with the old man's horse than any of the humans. In the end, he learned from the horse that these were adequately ok folks and so he decided to join them on their little adventure. (Another new player)

The old man led them to the edge of a small thicket of trees and said that the crypt was straight ahead, no more than a few minutes' walk. He would not be going with them as he had long ago retired from adventuring life. After all, as he pointed out, he had left no traps and there were no monsters there when h e first buried his friend 6 months ago, so it should be perfectly safe. Needless to say, their short walk was interrupted by a large, monstrous spider, which despite my best efforts, didn't even manage to bite a single one of the jerk PC's. The creature was dispatched handily by an angered paladin who seemed eager to be gone from this place. A quick scamper up the tree revealed the spider kept no treasure.

The crypt was easily found, and after several minutes of checking for stonework traps or hidden doors (the dwarf) or mechanical traps (the gnome thief er . . cleric, yeah that's the ticket!), the party bashed at the door to remove the lead and, with great glee, the two clerics of the Mule put their engineering skills to work and removed the doors from the hinges rather than letting the gnome attempt to unlock them. Inside, they discovered that the place was a little larger than they had anticipated. It was clear that this was obviously the burial of a person faithful to the Raiser, complete with the standard accoutrements as the first two rooms attested. The third room, though, gave them pause . . .

Realizing they had found the sarcophagus of Ver'Kusi and his 6 faithful hunting dogs, the party employed not just a little meta-gaming knowledge and prepared for a fight. The paladin, after glaring at the sarcophagus for a minute, declared that it was evil and dangerous. Nevertheless, he was the one to pry the lid off and look inside. There, indeed, was the gnomish treasury, along with a decaying corpse with the words "May the Gods forgive me." carved into the coffin, and two leatherbound books. Realizing there was nothing else for it, the paladin reached in and took the sword, and was immediately attacked by an evil undead Shadow.

The group squared off against the shadow while one of the clerics of the Mule tried to flee, but his escape was cut off by six zombie dogs that had risen from their coffins to attack. In a feat of uncharacteristic heroics, or merely suicidal tendancies, the cowardly cleric threw himself bodily at the dogs in a bid to buy time for his companions. And was promptly devoured for his trouble.

The battle was long and hard fought, but in the end, the group emerged victorious without too many injuries. They removed the treasury as well as the two books and brought them back to town to discover that the gnomes had already brought the hostages back in anticipation of the trade. Despite the fact that a significant portion of the treasure was missing, the gnomes determined to leave without further pressing the claim as the paladin reminded them that they had been taking hostages and he was prepared to start shortening gnomes by a head if need be. It was decided that the missing portion be considered weregild in compensation for the inconvenience suffered by the families of this town and that the gnomes would leave in peace, never to return the next morning.

Afterward, the learned members of the party examined the two books. The first was a plain, leatherbound folio with a brief account of adventures that Ovini and his friends had near the Obakasek Jungle, hot on the trail of a rumored treasure cache, complete with map, but they were turned back by humanoid tribes and a druid who did not take kindly to their pilfering ways. The other was a higher quality book with a rune or pictograph of some sort on the cover. Much puzzeling over it revealed that it was an historical symbol, but of what nobody could say, and the half-elf magic user was able to chime in and say that it appeared to be High Elven pictographic writing. What it said he had no clue.

Play Report - Kingdoms of Kalamar

2011-06-10T03:40:00.001-07:00

[em]Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerrated. Suffice to say, life has been more than a little mad. However, I have, at long last, been able to assemble a group and begin a campaign that, I hope, will last for a while at least. We're using the AD&D 2nd edition ruleset, with a host of house rules, and the Kingdoms of Kalamar campaign setting. Hope you enjoy the recap.[/em]

It’s been a good long time since I ran a game, and I’ve been staring at the Kindgoms of Kalamar campaign setting book for a long while with the overwhelming urge to play it. So finally, last night, I managed to get my chance. Despite the weather and lack of air conditioning, I think everybody had a good time, even though we were converting half the group from third and fourth edition to AD&D again.

There were seven of us, with an eighth promised for the next session. I do not have the exact particulars of the party at the moment as the character sheets have all gone home with the players for final touchups, but in broad strokes, the party consists of Tam, a half-elf mage who makes excellent use of a charm person spell; a dwarven fighter; Bedowyr, a Brandobian Paladin of the Eternal Lantern; not one, but TWO priests of The Mule, one LE and one LN which made for some fascinating debates on opposing philosophies and tactics; a gnomish thief/”cleric” of Beer (not The Bear, but the divine Beer the beverage); and finally a human fighter of indeterminate background and skills yet.

Having heard that an alliance of the Halls of the Valiant and the Assembly of Light, with some support from other sympathetic churches/deities, have taken it upon themselves to build a new stronghold in the heartland of Kalamar, rife with banditry and on the brink of anarchy, has put out a call for help in the form of soldiers, priests, and “freelance explorers and mercenaries,” our group of heroes has decided to investigate the call and determine the nature of the work being offered. The request for aid indicated that the temporary base of operations was the city of Bepido, so the group headed in that direction, passing through the Barony of Salanid on the way.
About an hour after midday, approaching the outskirts of a tiny village named Arun’Kid, the travelers discover three bodies on the ground, and the remnants of wagons that have suffered some fire damage. There are broken arrows littering the ground all around. Quick investigation revealed that two of the bodies, an older man and woman, were corpses, while a third, younger, body of a young woman had survived, barely. A bit of magical healing from the paladin stopped the bleeding and saved the girl’s life, but it seems the two clerics were hesitant to utilize their own divine powers to restore her to consciousness. A quick search of the area revealed lots of tracks all over with a fairly obvious trail leading off to the north.
Deciding that the best thing for it was to toss the girl over a shoulder like a sack of rice and drag the other two bodies into town, the party did just that, tramping into town with three bodies in tow. They immediately took note of the temple of the Bear and how, despite the remaining winter seer of the surrounding countryside, it bloomed as if in high summer, but decided instead to take the girl to the local tavern. They met Pem’Ge, the girl tending bar and requested help from her. The girl, having more sense than a group of adventurers, immediately sent for help from Tuveri and the Temple of the Raiser.
Tuveri arrived and introduced himself as the de facto leader of the village until a new elder was to be decided upon and demanded to know what had happened. A long conversation sorted out the details and assured the townsfolk present that the group was not, in fact, bandits but genuinely interested in providing help to a misfortunate individual. After about ten minutes of this, a scream was heard from outside. After pausing for a minute or two to ponder the nature, gender, age, and possible comeliness of the scream, the party rushed to the door to investigate and saw a woman being dragged away by three small figures towards the edge of town. With a thunderous challenge, the paladin, LN cleric, and dwarf fighter charged in to stop the obvious abduction. Just before they reached the scene, though, a brilliant spray of color shot out of the high grass to their flank and washed over them, to no effect.
Tam the half-elf mage made good use of a charm person spell that lured away one of the three kidnappers to him to make friends. In the next instant, four more of the figures, which the trailing thief was able to identify as gnomes, burst out of the grass and attacked the cleric and paladin with padded clubs in an attempt to take them hostage. Matters did not end well for them and they were swiftly slain by the combined forces of the party, who left them to bleed out in the dust. A moment later, all three of the melee combatants collapsed into the dust like limp rag dolls, but were swiftly kicked awake by an irate gnome thief. A quick census of the town revealed that there were a total of 5 missing persons, two children, two young wives, and an older woman, whom the party had witnessed being dragged away.
A quick search of the bodies revealed only leather armor, clubs, and short swords on the bodies. No coin or other belongings. It was apparent that wherever they had come from, it was close by for they could not have gotten far with no supplies. Though none of the party could track an elephant through a snow field if their lives depended upon it, a helpful hunter was able to point out that a few sets of tracks seemed to lead off to the north, and it looks as if they were dragging heavy things between them as they went. Before pursuing, though, the group decided that it would be a good idea to interrogate the newly friendly gnome who was, even now, enjoying drinks in the tavern while the LE cleric expounded upon the dangers of allowing too large a population of free gnomes at liberty within the village.
The young gnome, who had tagged along on this mission in the first place for a bit of excitement, was resistant to provide information to the paladin, who after all was not his friend like the mage was, was persuaded by intimation of imminent violence upon his person to reveal that the gnomes of clan Barleton had been chasing a villain named Ver’Kusi, previously known as Ovini, to this town for over 40 years after the man had stolen the entirety of the gnomish treasury and made off with it in the night. The leader of the group sent to extradite the thief and return him to justice, Barston, felt that it was important that, being short, the gnomes negotiate from a position of strength and so set about kidnapping a group of hostages to use as leverage against the village. Originally, the intent was to take 6 captives, but that had not worked out properly, and . . . oh, it’s too bad you let my friend bleed to death in the dirt . . .

A few more threats of horrific violence and a vow of non-violence except in self defense later and the party was led directly to the gnome camp which was north of the road a few miles east in order to conduct negotiations for the safe return of all the hostages. Tempers frayed, shouting matches were engaged in, and threats of violence were made, but in the end, the gnomes managed to delivery their demands (1. The return of Ver’Kusi to their custody for justice, 2. The return of the treasury) and vowed, in return, that the hostages would be kept safe and whole.

The party returned to the village to deliver the demands, and had decided, though they despised the gnomes’ methods, that this man should indeed be brought to justice. They were surprised to learn that Ver’Kusi had been dead for six full months now. In a bit of desperation, they searched the deceased’s house, but found it, despite being a nice home, having no secret compartments with hoards of valuables stashed in the walls, but did learn from somebody that Ver’Kusi had had a friend named Dak’Wi, who lived nearby . . .

Teaching the Game: August Blog Carnival

2010-08-20T11:49:00.000-07:00

The new blog carnival for this month involves teaching the game to newcomers.

Joe, over at Greyhawk Grognard, advocates a set of quick start, introductory rules to teach new folks how to play the game. I can't say as I disagree entirely. I think there is a decided dearth of introductory type products in the world of RPG gaming, and it's a real shame that there aren't more, especially in an age when the most "modern" set of rules reads like a Sony manual and requires a great deal of player skill and comprehension to even function on a basic level. Even the introductory type rules WOTC handed out in their Keep on the Shadowfell product were not terribly well explained and were inadequate to explain the concepts that weere at play. Of course, it doesn't always have to be that way, especially since the original TSR D&D Basic set was, as I recall, something on the order of 50 pages of text and included just about everything you needed in order to play the game in perpetuity (yes, assuming you never advanced beyond level 3, but seriously now, give the book some credit) including a rather excellent module that further taught the designated victim . . . er, DM, how to run a campaign for his players. And it all started with character creation, after a very brief "what is role playing" schpiel that we jaded grognards skip over out of hand nowadays.

My quarell, though, is that this entire approach relies first upon there being enough interest in the person's mind to even pick the product off the shelf in the first place (or in the age when the Brick and Mortar Stores are slowly dying off in favor of Amazon.com and direct vendor buys, adding it to one's "shopping cart") and second, being willing to part with the cash to pay for it in the second. Granted, this entire topic is about how to teach somebody the game after they've expressed the interest, so those questions are somewhat moot. However, gaming society has become somewhat insular beyond even what it was originally and, let's face it, we can be rather off putting to the uninitiated.

Any way . . . I don't think a set of introductory rules is quite the right way to go here. Handing somebody a book and saying "here, read this and you're all set, and by the way maybe you should choose an edition now . . ." really isn't welcoming or inclusive. It's akin to handing somebody homework and then asking them to come back next week and speak Shibolleth.

Instead, I think that the best way to teach somebody how to play is, and will remain, handing them a character sheet (most groups I game in tend to have a collection of NPC's hanging around, or the sheet of a PC who's player isn't on hand just for this purpose) and pointing out the first few things they'll need to know immediately (character name and class, race, hit points, armor class, and weapons and gear) and then sit them next to a more experienced player and just have them follow along. Don't demand an action from them, ask them what they want the character to do, and then show them how to do it (pick up a D20 and tell them to roll it and see the result). Don't hand them a host of rules in advance, introduce them to the rules slowly as they are required. It breaks that learning curve and lets the new person participate immediately in the game rather than having to cram the arcana of a rules set into their brains. They came to play, not study, so help them play in a hands on manner.

Of course, this all relies upon the presence of a group willing to help them learn rather than somebody alone teaching themselves, but I'd be willing to bet that many, if not most, of us learned at the feet of a more experienced gamer to begin with, and still do from time to time.

H.P. Lovecraft's Birthday

2010-08-20T11:12:00.000-07:00

It is, as noted, HP Lovecraft's Birthday.

While I'm certainly not the biggest Lovecraft fan, I've been on someting of a kick for the Cthulhu Mythos the last few weeks, and even went over to the HP Lovecraft Historical Society and picked up a sweatshirt for the Esoteric Order of Dagon and the boxed set of Dark Adventures Radio Theater and plan on enjoying them entirely tonight. As a little bit of celebration, take the time today to read through a story and ponder the horrors that lurk just beyond sight.

New Monster: The Slender Man

2010-08-15T06:58:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the "mythical myth" created here: Something Awful Forums, a new monster for AD&D 2e.

Climate/Terrain: Any forested or wilderness area, typically new growth forests where the creature's nature lends it a level of natural camouflage.

Frequency: Very Rare (possibly unique)

Organization: Solitary (possibly unique)

Activity Cycle: Any

Diet: Carnivorous

Intelligence: Exceptionally - Genius

Treasure: Unknown

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

No. Appearing: 1

Armor Class: 3

Movement: 18, 18 (braciation), 12 (climb)

Hit Dice: 7

THAC0: 13

No. of Attacks: 2 claw or 1 bite (see below)

Damage per Attack: 1d8/1d8 (claw/claw), 1d10 (bite)

Special Attacks: Grapple, Bite/Chew, Surprise

Special Defenses: See below

Magic Resistance: 25%

Size: L (approx. 8')

Morale: Champion 16

The Slender Man is very rarely encountered, at least by those who live to repeat the tale, and is believed by some sages to be a unique and malignant entity lurking in the birch and aspen forests of Thylia. It appears as an impossibly thin and wasted humanoid figure standing approximately eight feet tall. When encountered within the forests (its preferred haunt), the creature imposes a -5 penalty to opponents' surprise rolls as from a distance, it is nearly impossible to distinguish from the trees around it. Once it has attacked, though, this benefit is lost as its victims know what to look for.

When combat is joined, most resemblance to humanoid beings is lost as it is revealed that the Slender Man has many tentacles (2-3' long) along the back of its arms and legs permitting it to climb even vertical, virtually smooth surfaces and allows the creature to swing from branch to branch as if it were a mockery of some great ape.

It strikes using two great hands that are, like its frame, impossibly elongated and terrifying and end in sharp, hooked talons. If both claws successfully strike against an opponent in one round, that opponent will be grappled and drawn close to the Slender Man immediately for a bite attack. Once grappled, a victim can only escape by rolling a successfull bend bars/lift gates roll and only has a 50% chance of having and arm free to utilize small weapons against the Slender Man (no medium or large weapons can be used when grappled). While grappling, the Slender Man will continue to chew and drain the blood from his victim for normal bite damage each round and will attempt to flee simultaneously with his victim. It is considered to have STR 19 with regards to encumbrance.

The Slender Man takes only 1 point of damage from piercing type attacks because its thin frame is so difficult to target. Likewise, bludgeoning weapons inflict only half damage. Slashing weapons inflict normal damage while swords of sharpness and vorpal type weaons inflict double damage in addition to all other effects of such weapons. The Slender Man will immediately flee from these types of weapons, but will attempt to slay their bearers by stealth, bearing a specific hatred for them.

Furthermore, the Slender Man is strongly resistant to magic.

It is unclear if there is only one of these creatures, or if there are many, but they have been a part of folklore and terror stories for many years in rural areas and are frequent bogeymen used to frighten children and keep them from wandering into the woods. They are never seen in more heavily urbanized regions and tend to stay towards the fringes of civilization. It is unknown if any of them collect treasure or valuables.

Guaging Interest in North NJ for AD&D 2nd Edition

2010-08-06T06:52:00.000-07:00

I'm posting here to see what interest there is in getting together a new 2nd edition AD&D game in North New Jersey (along the I80 corridor mostly).

Currently, I'm pondering weekly play, probably on a weeknight, starting at Mighty Titan Games on Rt 10, and possibly moving to my house in the spare room.

Game would either take place in the Kingdoms of Kalamar or within my own homebrew Thylia (yes, I know I've not posted much about it here, but that's mostly because of long work hours and it having recently undergone a fundamental redesign).

Let me know either in comments here, or in email.

The Thylian Ranger

2010-08-06T06:22:00.000-07:00

*note: image presneted here without permission from Serrated Soul.

The Ranger underwent some odd, and annoying, changes between incarnations, not just between the AD&D and D20 versions, but between AD&D 1ed and 2ed. I suppose if I were unkind, I could attribute the change between AD&D editions to that execrable character Drizz't and legions upon legions of fanboys who wanted a character just like him, but that's probably more than a little unkind and out of order. Still, hard to deny.

In the Gary's PHB, rangers were stout men and women who went into the wild "kicking ass and taking names" to be blunt, and were particularly effective in clearing out humanoids and giants, pushing the wilderness back from civilization and protecting civilians from Nature. Essentially, the Chuck Norris of the AD&D world. If you crossed him, the ranger would hunt you down no matter where you went using his awesome tracking abilities and take you apart piece by piece. On top of that, when he reached higher levels, he developed a following of contacts throughout the wilderness and world (for that is what they were originally, contacts not just hangers on).

By the time 2nd edition rolled around and Drizzlemania was in full swing and the Forgotten Realms became the all purpose dumping ground and universal setting for all TSR product, the ranger, if you'll excuse my cynicism, was a sissified and hippified version of himself. Gone was the damage bonus against giant class monsters and in its place we have . . . favored enemy? Ok, I get the concept that gives us the option of a ranger choosing his foe based on what happens to be plaguing the region he hails form, but seriously, the ability is effectively useless by about 4th level. Fifth if we're being generous. So our ranger has been castrated, and it seems that the designers realized this, so they handed him the ability to fight with two weapons at once without penalty. I have yet, after all my years of gaming, to figure out what dual wielding weapons has to do at all with being a ranger other than hopping onto the fan wave of immitating the aforementioned drow. An army of them, in fact.

It doesn't end there, though. The followers list was torn apart and they were turned into tagalongs and pets. It also seems that the focus of the class shifted from a man protecting civilization from nature and the horrors of the wild, to a man who just didn't like cities and so took up a life in the forest to be left alone. Now, rather than gaining some proficiency in magical and druidic spells as added survival tools, the ranger is confined to plant based clerical spells. A tree hugging hippie. Ugh

It's not all bad, really. I do like that the tracking ability was changed to a non-weapon proficiency in which the class is the only one not taking a massive penalty. That, to me, is a significant enough improvement to not entirely discount the class whole cloth.

The less said about what happened to the ranger in third edition the better. Suffice to say I'm still confused by the idiocy that went into the willful misinterpretation of the word "Ranger" to mean "he who attacks with a ranged weapon" and yet still somehow manages to dual wield scimitars pointlessly.

Instead, for my game (assuming I can generate the time and players interested), I plan on merging Gary Gygax's ranger with the 2nd edition ranger. The 2nd edition ranger will serve as the platform, the architecture so to speak. Dual wielding weapons and "favored enemy" will be chicked out summarily and replaced with the damage bonus form the 1st edition ranger. Moving silently and hiding in shadows will be handled per 2nd edition PHB, or perhaps mocking up a system similar to how thieves function (assigning percentage boosts each level).

The followers list in the 2nd edition PHB will be chucked in favor of the 1st edition followers list, and instead of having followers show up at 9th level in a lump, followers will be spread out across levels, showing up periodically according to their abilities. A wolf follower might show up early on at 2nd or 3rd level, while human followers would show up a little after that, and a dragon or other powerful fantastic creatures might not appear until well after. And further, the ranger would have to "earn" his followers. They aren't added class benefits, they're as much NPC's as the mayor of the local village and need to be treated as such.

I want the ranger, in Thylia, to be taken back to its roots with a little mechanical update for the AD&D 2nd edition and to toss out the foolishness that seems to be inbred into the class in later generations.

Wierd Roleplaying Lands in New Jersey!

2010-08-06T04:01:00.000-07:00

Late on Wednesday night, the Lamentations of the Flame Princess Wierd Role Playing boxed set arrived on my doorstep. I proceeded to spend most of the night reading through it and much regretted having to go to the office the next day. I must say that I'm impressed by this game. Raggi continues to improve his craft and set a high bar for the OSR in general: showing us all "how it's done" so to speak.

At first glance, the boxed set is just a bit overwhelming. The artwork is, simply put, astonishing. We're all familiar with the box cover and I'm sure that every single one of us will look at it and agree that it is a spectacular bit of work. But I'd like to take the time to put in a good word for the interior art as well: evocative, inspiring, and, if I may say so, not just a little fundamentally unsettling in some places (a certain bearded and distorted faced warrior image comes to mind here). On top of all of that, the books have terrific "hand feel." In my hands, they feel of equal quality with my old copy of the White Box sitting nearby, perhaps even superior in some aspects. The box and books are built to withstand the rigors of play.

We all know the contents of the box by now. Come on, let's all say it together. First out of the box is an introductory slip with something that every game should have, a very quick, concise definition of the contents and style of the game, though for the record, I would like to see that on the back cover, too, since the box presumably comes to the store sealed. It's also a bit of a quick instruction manual on how to proceed through the remainder of the contents and the now somewhat infamous disclaimer about male pronoun exclusivity. I find the warning about occult activity, mental abberation, and deviant behavior amusing and if I ever can get my act together, I'd ask James permission to copy it into any product I can put together myself. Perhaps it can become another in joke of the OSR, which I think desperately needs one.

Next out of the box is the Tutorial book. Disclaimer: this is the only bit of art in the box that I actually don't care for. The three figures across the top are just a little intrusive and don't strike the right vibe for me as I get it from the game. THey look more like the BECMI style ADVENTURE! type figures than the strange and wierd that the rest of the game gives off, though that little monster on the left is flat out odd. If it were me, and it wasn't, I'd have felt that the bottom image of the mob of peasants marching, pitchforks and torches in hand, to the castle gates was more than sufficient and evocative of the great Hammer Horror flicks of their day.

Anyway, I give the inclusion of a tutorial high marks, especially in a boxed set that purports to be a complete game. It's a mistake on our collective part to assume that anybody picking up the product is already a gamer and knows what it's all about if not the specific rules in play. It fosters a type of cliquism and continuity lockout that is problematic and obnoxious and discourages new adopters from attempting the game on their own. This tutorial artfully averts that tendancy that neckbeards have and takes the part of a kindly and patient referee walking a new player step by step through their first game (in this case, a haunted house) with quick instructions "on the ground" of how the basics work. The only issue I have with the tutorial is that it does go on longer than it should, but that seems to be because of the inclusion of an introductory, single person module there and an extended play example. This is fine, and I honestly don't see a way that it could have been done without compromising the step by step nature of the tutorial, I feel that some of the material there could have been pulled out into another booklet. One last note about the tutorial, I'm pleased to see a nice little glossary of important terms on the back in easy reach.

Next up is the Rules book with the titular Flame Princess I presume on the cover. Here we have what one would expect to find in the player's handbook. Character classes, in the style of the Basic game so long ago, the Cleric, Magic User, Fighter, Elf, Halfling, and Dwarf, and a Specialist (a renamed Thief). The classes are described completely with a refreshing brevity that is utterly lacking in today's published gaming supplements. It's excellent to find a comprehensive description of, well, anything that clocks in at under a full page of block text nowadays. The fact that the majority of character creation is completed within the first 17 pages of the book is no mean feat. Moving further, I find a surprisingly comprehensive equiment list containing in addition to classics such as the 50' rope, chalk, and shovel, some oddities like soap and manacles. What adventurer before has worried about his hygene? Or, for that matter, a pair of manacles? It speaks volumes in only to line items in a list in my opinion. There are, in addition, lists for weapons and armor, animals, vehicles, and basic services and an encumbrance system based rather than on weight like most others, on items. I find that last an interesting choice that shifts focus away from micromanaging weight distributions in the party to a systemized exercise in common sense. Rather than jiggering around with pounds to cram one more thing into the pack, it's simply a matter of counting items and moving on.

The rest of the Rules book contains, naturally, most of the rules a player would be expected to need to play the game. Swimming, climging, mapping, getting lost, healing, languages, movement, maritime adventure rules, rules for hiring retainers, rules for property and finance, and, finally on page 40, rules for combat. It's fascinating to me that the combat rules, which oftentimes are the first rules discussed after character creation, are quite literally the last rules presented in this game. It's obvious that combat, while important, is not the central focus of the game like certain other alliterative games out there. What's even better in my mind, is that the combat "chapter" is only six full pages, one of which is a full page illustration, and it covers as much as the AD&D books covered in significantly more page realestate. Again, that long lost art of brevity and concise writing coming to the fore again.

Digging further into the box, I come across the magic book. This is majorly, as one could divine from the title, a list of spells for both Magic Users and Clerics including the Turn Undead spell which is no longer an innate power of the cleric and a quick rundown of the rules on memorizing spells and research that most experienced players and referees will find themselves comfortable with. In fact, very little needs to be said about it since most of us will be able to walk through this book quickly and understand the vast majority of it.

And that, actually, is all one needs to play the game. All the rules (excepting monsters) have been covered and you're ready to start rolling characters and get moving if you're a player. But there's still a number of other books to pull out here. Next up is the Referee book with the serpent lady demon, a marilith without her swords. This, I make no qualms about it, is my absolute favorite book in the set. Without a doubt. Inside, you'll find no rules excepting for a few guidlines in the monster section, only frank and straightforward talk about how to run a game. Themes that run through the wierd role playing "world" such as science versus magic and mystery, horror versus the wierd. But better still are the meditations on how to construct an interesting adventure that captures the attention and imaginations of your players, treasure placement, maps, and how to build a larger environment and world than just the current explorations, how to build connections to the outside world. I'm immensly impressed by this tiny little booklet and how it manages to equal Gygax's own DMG in content and, in somme way, exceed it since it rises above merely a section of the rules intended for the referee. This is, very simply, the act of taking new referee's under your wing in text format. Kudos Mr. Raggi.

Next up, two adventures, one introductory and one exploratory. The "Tower of the Stargazer" is an excellent little introductory adventure based on the titular location and the players' explorations thereof. Classic and comforting and full of explanatory notes on not just how things function, but why they are there, it's as much an adventure as it is a tutorial for the referee in adventure structure. An excellent quality detachable cover with maps, a feature sorely lacking in most of the old school world, is a nice addition.

Where "Tower of the Stargazer" is a tutorial on adventure building, "Wierd New World" is the excercise portion of a referee's training. As is noted in the introduction, there is a lot of work to be done here to make the module work, and it's up to the local referee to do it. Expand the brief descriptions into a living and breating experience for his players and draw the links here that will draw them further into the wilderness and, eventually, to the pirates cave. This modules is a graduation ceremony for both sides of the screen. On the one side, the referee is ready to start building his own world and the campaign, and on the other, the players are ready to graduate beyond confined and comfortable little dungeon crawls and start making names for themselves.

The last booklet in the box is titled "Recommended Reading" and it's Raggi's own personal Appendix N. If anything, it is a great list of inspirations from which James himself has drawn, and which individual referee's can garner ideas as well. It's also a nice touch that the individual authors are not just listed, but extensively commented upon and guidance given to the uninitiated.

The rest of the box contents include a few character sheets and some graph paper for mapping, a tiny little pencil and an adorably tiny bag of dice that, while to any experience gamer are virtually superfluous, to a new player would be indispensible and certainly go a long way to creating a complete game in a box.

I only have two small issues here. First, I want the box to be slightly larger. I have this strange urge to fit all of my LOtFP books into it, and they just won't fit without overly stressing the box. Yes, it's nice to open up the box and find it surprisingly full, but I would like to have the option to store all of these products together in a single container to carry with me to games. This is a minor and, likely, nonsensicle complaint as it would be easy enough for me to just grab a larger box to put them all in, but still.

My second problem, and slightly more serious, is with the magic book. All the spells are, on the one hand, completely familiar to experienced gamers, and that's a plus on some level. However, it is siumtaneously a problem for me. They're all familiar and workmanlike and none of them, in my estimation, really earns the title of "wierd." In the description of magic users back in the rules book, we're told that they taint their souls bit by bit for power, but I'm just not seeing that here. Yes, I understand that there are the alignment restrictions, but that's just one thing. I know, I should be making that rule up myself if I want it here, but this is something that could have been a spectacular addition to the vancian magic system to complement the themes of the game.

Overall, I think that Lamentations of the Flame Princess: Wierd Fantasy Role Playing is, as a product, a spectacular success and I honestly hope that the first printing sells out entirely and a new printing is worked. I wish all the success that the author has earned. There will be a love hate relationship with this game, though. New school gamers (those inducted into the hobby with D20 versions of the game) will love the themes and ideas here, but will gnash their teeth and tear their shirts because it's not "intuitive" or "complete" or whatever it is these youngin's complain about today.

The oldest and crustiest of grognards, on the other hand, will wail and shout about how its not just like the old boxed sets and that it's bait and switch and that they were tricked by its presentation as a boxed set.

Meanwhile, if you take the box on its own terms, you'll see it for what it is: a truly excellent example of minimalist game design and a wonderful exercise in atmosphere and creation.

Full marks and my sincerest congratulations and thanks to Mr. Raggi. Most excellent, sir.

Doing in the Wizard?

2010-07-23T05:09:00.001-07:00

I've been pondering, of late, what "Low Magic" really means. Yes, the easy answer is to say "Look at D20 3.x edition and cut that by 75%." It's also a bit tounge-in-cheek, I suppose, and irreverent, but whatever, it's fun to mock games that we don't like and don't play. So my answer has always been that I like a low magic gaming experience, or at the very least, a game in which remains magical, whatever that means.

It's not just as simple as a single scale with D20 gonzo magic on the one hand and a completely mundane world on the other. It's not just the amount of magic, but the level of magic seen, how flashy it is, how spectacular it is versus how subtle it is. Another aspect of the issue in my mind is the cost. The typical fantasy game - or at least the modern day and age where we feel we are entitled to anything we want without consequence - have trained us to look at magic as "just another tool to be used" and that there are few if any downsides. The endless arguments recently online among the younger gamers who look at Vancian magic as some sort of cheat and that a wizard just isn't being wizardly unless he's throwing spells every single round as if he were carrying some sort of Star Trek phaser that only runs out of power when it's convenient to the plot.

So just the other day, I pulled out of my gaming closet a copy of the old Game of Thrones RPG from the defunct Guardians of Order. (Yes, he's going to talk about those novels again!) Those of us familiar with the books will know that magic is extraordinarly rare and low key, if it even exists at all most of the time. What magic we know does exist for sure is fraught with peril and exacts a terrible price for whatever boon it might grant. The game captures this motif by effectively removing magic entirely except for a vague and difficult to interpret chapter that gives a general outline of how to handle magic. Essentially, it's governed by what you want to do and what tools you have and is very symbolic, i.e., bathing a child in hot ox blood to grant him strength and courage. And it always comes with a price and a high chance of something going terribly wrong.

So, my question for whomever actually still reads this thing I can so rarely update, is this: what would the effect be if I were to "tune out" a great deal of the magic level of even a low magic game? Would I be entirely unfair if I were to consider doing this for real?

If I removed permanent items (all those lovely +1 swords, magic carpets, and cubic gates) and simply left expendable items like potions, low charged wands, and scrolls, how would everything else have to be changed? Obviously, creatures like gargoyles and others that required magic weapons to affect would be significantly more dangerous. It'd become a requirement for a wizard or priest with some appropriate spells to deal with them as even the most powerful warriors in the world wouldn't even be able to put a chip in them. OF course, I could compensate by removing the requirement for a magic weapon to hit and instituting a version of D20's Damage Reduction mechanic instead. So yes, a powerful fighter could harm a gargoyle, but it'd be tough going for him. I could create a spell or two for the wizards and priests to temporarily empower a mundane weapon with the power of magic. At this point, spellcasters become far more powerful relatively speaking, and perhaps even an integral part of life as every community would need one or three to defend them against the horrors of the wilds lurking on all sides. Every community might host a caster and travelling casters might find themselves made honored guests as locals conive to keep him there, perhaps marry him off to unwed daughters and anchor him in place.

Taking it another step, I've often thought of how the matter is handled in D20modern (yes, another D20 game, but at the moment they serve as decent models) wherin casters are "prestige classes" that cannot be taken until later in the career of an adventurer. It might be possible to follow the same kind of model with 0D&D or AD&D by adjusting the spells per level of the wizard and priest classes to decrease the number of spells and push off gaining new spells to later levels. Perhaps even limiting what spells are available. No more magic missile, fireball, and meteor strike. Instead, only lower key spells are available. Or perhaps only certain schools such as necromantic and diniation (the concept of a character reading bones or entrails to helop the party out entertains me somwhat). I'm pretty sure that at this level, even the oldest old school gamers would start objecting.

But what I'm really interested in at this point, is how people would react to the GM removing magic almost in entirety? There are no casters, no permanent magic items excpet, perhaps, for ancient holy relics that come with enough attached strings to make even the most foolhardy players think twice about picking them up. No potions, scrolls, wands, or staves. No easy access to healing and disease curing. The only magic that would be allowed would be intricate and dangerous rituals that are intended to accomplish one set aim, such as trading a life for a life to hopefully raise a needed hero from the dead to fight one last time to protect the innocent. How would this function in terms of a D&D game model? Or would the system simply not be able to handle it?

I'm curious to listen to the thoughts of others on this.

Arduin Eternal Review

2010-05-31T03:40:00.001-07:00

Well, since I actually had time off from the office rather than spending 18 out of every 24 there, I figured it was time to put that time to good use and post something.

A while ago, I wrote up that Arduing Eternal would be shipping "soon." Well, soon turned out to be measured in months when it came to the playtester copies, but they did finally arrive about two weeks ago.

I was excited about getting this book. After all, I had been part of the playtest, so I was chomping at the bit to see the finished product. When I opened my copy of Arduin Eternal, I was sorely dissapointed. First, I should say that, when it's boiled down and we get past the issues, I still think that AE is an excellent system that contains rules that could cover just about everything (a real draw to some) and what I feel is a true inheritor to the original Arduin. I do like the game.

However . . .

The artwork and layout of the book is subpar in many instances. Not all the art, but frequently the illustrations in the book made everyone in our group do a doubletake, especially one particularly infamous illustration on page 98 that has an unfortunately anatomical appearance. Arduin has never been known for innovative or incredible art, but it was always evocative and interesting. This time, though, it invokes mostly a bit of headscratching and laughter. At the same time, even those illustrations that were quite good got crammed into corners and had proportions distorted to force them to fit where they didn't need to be, presumably in an effort to avoid orphaned text giving some of the art a squashed look. And in the meantime, too much of the art looks . . . well . . . the only description is "wrong" that it's distracting. This includes the cover that has what we presume to be a rune weaver but who looks more like a barbarian and whose proportions are so odd that it looks biologically impossible. You can see it there at the top of this post.

The greatest offender here, though, has to be the general editing of the book. It seems that during the assembling of the book and the final work that, in order to keep the book as a single volume, a great amount of material had to be cut. We understand this, after all, the book is already over 800 pages long and any longer would have made it practically unusable. The problem arises when it turns out that a significant portion of what was cut was neccessary to understand how things work, such as something as basic as how a thief picks a lock. You can check out a partial list here that just our group has been compiling based on a day or two of character generation. There are more than these, and a quick dip into the other topics at those fora will show a few of them.

Compounding this problem are numerous editing mistakes such as gramatical and spelling errors and references in the text to versions of other sections of text as they were in either the alpha or beta playtest versions of the game that didn't get updated to the new, finalized version. Readers are forced to hunt through the text hoping to determine where soemthing is, or go to the forums begging for enlightenment. Sometimes, the material is well and truly missing, promised in a forthcoming set of books to include a Culture book and a Bestiary (we hope they make an appearance soon) as well as reworkings of the excellent adventure White Roc's Inn. But for the time being, they're conspicuously absent. And that includes the index of the book which is available for download on the Emperor's Choice website.

In this day and age, and especially in an instance when many of the plyatesters were offering their time free of charge to assist with the editing, or merely in exchange for a copy of the book or two. It smacks of unprofessionalism. We understand, of course, that the author is not a full time RPG author and that his real life has interfered with the execution of this massive project, but there were options that could have certainly alleviated the issues that many have noticed. In the end, this book looks like a strong mid-draft rather than a finished book, and that is unfortunate.

At its core, one supposes that one of the central conceits of the Old School Rennaisance is simplicity. That a core rules set can and should be contained to a mere 100 pages or less and that the rest is entirely up to the GM and players to expand upon. I agree with this model to a certain extent, though I'll allow for more comprehensive rules when they work towards the concept effectively. The problem with Arduin Eternal is that it is so massive that it's daunting even to players who have been at the game for more than 20 years. Character generation is an extensive process that can and does take days of effort if you know what you're doing. I can only imagine what it takes the uninitiated. Here is something that the Compleat Arduin books had in spades. At every step in character generation there were text boxes set aside with examples of the process, and they helped immeasurably to comprehend an otherwise complicated system. They are sorely missing here, and I can only hope that we see something like that in the future, either as a free PDF, or as a fan released document.

This leads to another issue, at least an issue that I have and I'm told it's not universal. To create a character, one is forced into that loathsome concept of "the build." Creating a character is a careful balancing act of weighing pro's and con's of each choice, playing each benefit and drawback against your character's central theme and abilities, always with a plan in mind of where he's going. It's a process that is virtually impossible to avoid a strong current of meta-gaming if you're looking to create a mechanically effective character. Now, I'm told that not everybody feels that this is a drawback. The D20 crowd are certainly no strangers to this and even I will admit right here that it can be fun to spend your time building a character in this way and truly become attached to him from the beginning. But in this instance, it's so antithical to the old school mindset that it seems injurious to one segment of Arduin's core audience. The grognards and neckbeards still playing with the little brown books or the clones of the white box won't find the original Grimoire volumes that were a grab bag of whacky and zaney goodies for their games and if that's what they want, they'd do much better picking up copies of the re-edited and republished Grimoire from Emperor's Choice and calling it well done.

What should have been made clear from the beginning and is not is that this is absolutely not an introductory RPG. This is not a way to cut one's teeth either on gaming in general (I'd recommend sticking with S&W/LL or OSRIC on that regard) or even the idiosynchratic world of Arduin for that matter (better I think to grab up a copy of the World Book of Khaas). A great deal of the game relies on a strong and confident GM who is willing to take the material and work with it until it resembles the shape he needs for the game. Things left unsaid or entirely open (glaringly, the function and nature of lycanthropy, or the entire bestiary) have to bee worked up on a case by case basis to the satisfaction of the individual players and it requires players as well who are strong and on the game. Novices and neophytes will be frustrated and lost.

While D20 players might feel more at home - after all, the secrets and skills are a strong D20 influence I think - they will undoubtedly be daunted by the preliminary inellegence of the game. As clunky and poor as many of us find the 3.x versions of D&D (not to mention 4ed), those games run like a well tuned Ferrari in comparison to this without a strong and sure guiding hand at the wheel. There is no strong advise on how to run the game, no Game Master's guide except for a few pages at the back of the book. There's no advice on how to run a distinctly Arduinian game and we are left to either intuit that or to import what we already know from our old Arduin games and make it so.

All together, I think the game itself is strong and excellent. I look forward to getting into our upcoming campaign and may post a few after action reports. However, I find that this particular book is not quite up to market snuff and that it needs a bit of help in terms of editing and presentation, as well as at least a few planned supplements at least one for the GM exclusively comprised of advice and guidance, in order to feel entirely complete.

Pick up a copy if you are an established Arduin fan, or if you're an experienced gamer looking for a challenging but very rewarding game.

Don't pick it up if you're looking for a book in the style of the Old School Rennaisance, or if you're looking to introduce yourself or somebody else to gaming.

Review: Frandor's Keep

2010-04-04T04:30:00.001-07:00

Well, I've had the module in my hands since about release day, so I figure it's about time I gathered myself to say something. Just finished reading through it last night thanks to hectic schedule pushing me to read about 1 page a day, but anyway.

Physical Appearance

The book has absolutely no shortcomings here. The cover art (pictured here) is evocative of certain old school images without being a straight rip off, and definitely evocative of the mood and atmosphere of the module itself. Interior art, maps, and layout are impressive, especially when it is considered that Kenzer employs something on the order of about 6 people irregularly. Old school, reminiscent of Kenzer's HM4 art but without some of the hokiest qualities that could plague that. Most often simple line drawings that are, nevertheless, quite excellent. The quality of the materials used in construction, as well, is evident. Kenzer continues to be plagued by editing mistakes in the text, but they are unobtrusive here, and infrequent. To put it succinctly, the quality of the book makes things coming out of a certain coastal wizards' lair look like crap.

Content

First, a note: this is, very loosely, a sequel to their prior "Little Keep on the Borderland" which was, itself, either an expansion of or a sequel to the original "Keep on the Borderland." It is not, however, dependent that one knows about the previous materials in order to understand the module, nor are their such distasteful elements as plot, merely something that'll make those in the know chuckle to themselves as they read it in passing, something emblematic of the humor that the authors shine at. Of special note is the origin of the mad hermit in the wood, who is not the prior hermit in the wood, who was himself not the original hermit in the wood.

Another important thing to know is that this book is not, in strictest terms, a module in the sense of an adventure. It is, as the cover states, an "immersive setting for adventures" instead. Of course, that's a particularly dry rendering of it, but that is, frankly, what you get: a location based product that goes into extreme effort to detail the areas in and around the eponymous Keep on the Borderland to an extent that would keep a group of players with an uninventive GM busy for months without exhausting all the possibilities or having to add any more. Of course, those of us who laud the qualities of "less is more" and minimalism will likely go into apopleptic fits over the volume of material detailed here, and that's entirely expected. The module is not written in the minimalist mode and no apologies are made for that here. One hopes, though, that even the staunchest of Gygaxian gamers will find something they like about the book.

The first half to two-thirds of the book devotes itself to in-depth descriptions of locations in and around the Keep and the road from the nearest civilized settlement, "Vew." There are some minor encounters mentioned, but for the most part, it's a travelogue and guide more than anything. The marvelous keyed 3-D projection maps (available for free, by the way, from the Kenzer Co. website) list who owns each paticular business/building, who lives there, their personality's, foibles, and involvements and most sections include a note about how the PC's might be expected to interact with each person lest we think this is merely a massively overdeveloped castle out of somebody's home campaign. There's a great deal within the walls of the keep itself to keep players busy and I envision many sessions never leaving the Middel Bailey at all as the curiosity and foolishness of PC's gets the better of them.

Additionaly, there are notes throughout helping a GM to "breathe life into the Keep" rather than just turning it into a static lump in a corner, the six acre gorilla in the room so to speak. That seems to be a strong theme in this product. Frandor's Keep is a learning module as much as the original Keep was. It's filled with not only advice on how to invest the entire assembly with motion and energy, but with notes that help novice GM's and players to test the width and breadth of Kenzer's new game system, Hackmaster Basic without ever devolving into didacticism and always remaining entertaining and challenging.

The new Keep is set in the Kingdom's of Kalamar world, and it is strongly felt throughout the product. The maps are straight out of the Kalamar Atlas volume, and some pains have been taken to link entities within and around the Keep to the larger world outside. It is assumed that groups will play in that world, though with effort, it is possible to transport the whole assemblage to another world. Unfortunately for those who wish to do so, there are more and stronger threads to be cut and rewoven, but it is conceivable that any low/infrequent magic world with a moutainous border region could receive the module without too much fuss.

The greatest difference between this module and the original, the one that everybody will notice first upon picking up the book, is that the Caves of Chaos are not here. This is, possibly, a deal breaker for some, but I don't think it should be. Yes, they're missing from this particular book, but they are due to come out soon in conjunction with the Advanced Hackmaster rules since they are of higher level material than the rest of the area and, as I said above, there's enough material within to keep most parties busy for a long time, especially with the addition of the three PDF modules "White Pallette, Ivory Horns," "In the Realm of the Elm King," and "The Mysterious Shrine," all available on the Kenzer Co. website for free, or for cheap. At least I see three months of gaming time in this book, assuming weekly sessions of considerable length. Those of us who know the joys of gainful employment in this day and age will likely find even more here.

The assumed system of the module is, of course, the new Hackmaster Basic (HMB) which is certainly not to the tastes of all. I confess myself not entirely enamoured of it, though I find it to be excellent on its own merits, just not something that gels perfectly with my own style as I'm sure many others will agree. However, the system does little to influence the wrigting of the material and it would be a trivial matter indeed to utilize Swords and Wizardry, AD&D, or even BRP to play here.

A high note here may be that some of the forced humor and over the top confrontationalism of the HM4 days is absent. There is a bit of "Gary Speak" involved, but it is much toned down and the "joke elements" are much reduced. Those of us who looked on the previous Hackmaster as a joke game will have to re-evaluate our opinions. It remains to be seen, though, if the designers will swing too far in the other direction in their efforts to shed the joke system mantle that saddled them throughout their prior years. For instance, in the new game, the bugbears have an interesting quirk of biology which is definately designed to get at our squick factor: the female of the species must consume an infant of a sentient race in order to go into heat and reproduce which provides one of the primary modes of conflict between humans and the bugbears. On the one hand, it's not over the top, but it does smack of the sensationalist gross out factor that so many mistake for more adult or darker these days. I hope that this does not become a trend in the new material.

Summary

Overall, for quality of production and content, the module earns 5 out of 5 stars. A truly remarkable effort that proves that the folks at Kenzer & Co. can really out do themselves even after years of truly excellent products. They've set the bar high for their future offerings, and I've little doubt that they will exceed our expectations. Frandor's Keep is, frankly, the best RPG product I've seen in a year. While it might not be entirely to the tastes of all gamers, one cannot deny that this book sets a high standard for the entire gaming industry.

Those of us looking for the minimalist approach will be unhappy with what's here, but that is not now, nor has it ever been Kenzer & Co's vision of Old School, and they make no appologies for it, nor should they. Rather than throwing a generic, undeveloped location at the GM, instead the module throws a fully evolved and integrated Kalamar location, complete with links to the larger world without ever devolving into the world shattering events and plots of grand and global scope that so tainted later Forgotten Realms and Ravenloft materials. At its heart, Frandor's Keep is a strong location based adventure locale that takes the extra step that GM's normally would to bring the module fully into the assumed setting. And it does it with true style.

Get this if you're looking for a setting based module for the Kingdoms of Kalamar setting with real life and energy.

Don't get this if you're looking for something in the same style and mode as the original Keep on the Borderlands, minimalist and generic enough to cameleon its way into any world with no effort.

Frandor's Keep, here, takes effort, love, and work to work and play well. It takes a strong and inventive GM, curious and even foolish players who won't get bored by not having a gaff sized hook to lure them on by the nose from A to B to C, and a willingness on both parts to fully engage the material that is presented and build on it. It's worth it though.

Kingdoms of Kalamar

2010-02-21T06:10:00.000-08:00

Since not enough people seemingly know about this, I'm bringing it up here and doing my little bit to schill for the Kenzer guys. The Kingdoms of Kalamar campaign setting is something that I think should be more popular than it is today. In my view, this is a setting that learned all of the best lessons of Greyhawk and The Forgotten Realms and produced one of the best campaign settings for sale today. And yes, I'm a great fan of it, why do you ask?

Since Dave can say it better than I can, I present you with his own words on the matter.

From my perspective, what draws me the most about it, is simply the campaign setting book. It's a mark of its quality, I think, that I can open the book to just about any page at random and pick out at least a dozen adventure ideas and long term campaign plans. Liberating the dwarf stronghold Karasta, recently conquered by the resurgent Kalamaran Empire of the Vast. Fighting the slavers and priests of the Overlord of Pel Brolenon, a city where more than 75% of the population is in bondage. Exploring the remains of Kolokar's Barrier, a great wall built to hold back the invading barbarians. There's just so much in every page that, frankly, I actually get giddy with ideas for running a game in this world, and that's what it is, a world. It's not just a campaign setting, it's a fully realized world in so many ways.

The greatest aspect is, in my view, that just about any adventure type is supported. Political and cultural adventure types are the setting's forte for sure, but at the same time, it's easy to shove that into the background and just hurl oneself into dungeon crawling and monster slaying. God killing? Yeah, you can do that.

I recommend it to all the Old Schoolers, Middle Schoolers, and New Schoolers out there that the CS is worth a look, even if you only pick up the PDF copy of the campaign setting and Atlas (currently with 4e mechanics in it, but so few you could count the instances on one hand and still have fingers left over), or grab a used copy of the book from Amazon or NobleKnight. It's definately worth your time.

And now, I'll refrain from further shameless displays of fanboyism.

Review: Castles Forlorn

2010-02-20T05:39:00.000-08:00

This isn't so much of a review as it is a retrospective, but I've been unable to come up with a better term that isn't a direct steal from Grognardia, so here we are.

While I don't get any time any more to DM (working 12 hour days can do that to you), I do get to play in a semi-regular weekly game, and for the last two years of real time, our group has been deeply embroiled in TSR's Castles Forlorn module. It's not exactly a great secret that AD&D2nd edition's tenure as the current D&D game represented a profound dearth of good modules. TSR seemed incapable of bringing out modules of the same quality as T1, the G and D series, and pretty much any of the 1st edition modules that truly created the shared experience that was AD&D 1ed. Dungeon Magazine certainly had a few that were noteworthy, even great, but it was hardly a suitable patch for a gaping hole in the time.

So, consider my surprise when, from the player's seat, I found myself dropped directly into one of the huge boxed set adventures that can so easily go so very wrong, from Ravenloft of all places, a campaign setting whose published modules are notoriously bad at times, and finding that not only was it good, but great. I'm going to talk about this module from the perspective of a player, since that is how I have experienced it first, and in the interest of full disclosure I should say that our GM had stitched a number of other modules into the main, most notably the otherwise horrifically bad Feast of Goblyns, one of the first Ravenloft world modules. I've only lately been able to look at the insides of the module books themselves, and I'll talk about that a bit too.

In short, this is adventure appears to be a standard gothic horror type story that Ravenloft made its life's blood on and threw so many gamers into fits because of the heavy handedness of it, with a time travel aspect thrown into the works. Yes, time travel. And it works. At its core, the module is still the story of one of the Dark Lords, the system breaking big bad guys, that rule parts of the Ravenloft world, one Tristane apBlanc. His story is appropriately angsty without ever seeming to go over the top or into the realm of the hokey like so many of the others did. In the end, the main villain here amounted to little more than a colossal prick damned to an eternity locked up in his own ironic prison. All pretty par for the course up until reality itself breaks around the castle and three separate time periods begin to coexist in the same location.

Wandering through the castle, the players stumble upon certain points within the place which will trigger a switch in time between three points in history representing a spread of about 300 years. Clever players will realize pretty quickly what's going on (as a reference, it took the group I play in about 3 game sessions to realize what was actually happening, and a great deal longer to figure out a way to use it to our advantage). In the end, you get a couple of different things. First, you get about three times the dungeon for the price of one as the castle is significantly chnaged between time periods and requires exploring in each to learn enough about what is going on in order to deal with it. Second, and this is more interesting I think, it provides the opportunity for players to "get at" the story of what has happened in this place from a number of different angles and force them to work at piecing it together themselves. What you learn in one time period may shed a differnet light on what happens in a previous time, or a future one.

Yes, this kind of setup will definately throw Old Schoolers into an unhappy place. After all, what has "story" got to do with D&D? In the end, though, I think that what you get is an excellent Middle School style module with a strong balance between the gothic story that gives purpose to the place, but not too much heavy handed material that forces the players to conform to a pre-determined sequence of events (see Ravnloft II: Gryphon Hill for the most egregious example). In the end, it's a huge location based module that hands the DM a place, a story of what has happened in the past, what's going on at the moment, and then sets the players free to deal with it, or to just walk away if they so choose.

There are, though, a number of flaws within the whole product, though. First, and primarily, the presence of a story that many, if not most, would find overwrought and dull. Yes, the story is a little romantic (in the literary period sense of the term, not the genre sense) and melodramatic, but it's believable enough that it doesn't really get in the way. For the most part, it's merely an excuse for the place to exist rather than an integral part of game play.

Second, I have no idea what analytical geniuses playtested this module, but it could have used some more help in that regard. Ostensibly, Castles Forlorn is intended for characters of 4th - 6th level. Truly, PC's of that level range are more than likely going to be slaughtered in short order in this place if they are not tremendously careful to the point of impotence, one of the primary reasons that it took 2 years of real time for us to finish this module. One of the primary foes is the Goblyn, a very excellent creature that I recommend for use everywhere, but one that can easily take a lower level party apart in a matter of moments. The main villain here is even more powerful and posed a significant threat to a party of level 7 and 8 characters. This particular issue, though, can easily be fixed by shoehorning other modules into the periphery of this one. A few side adventures orbiting about the main one will give the PC's a bit more XP and resources that will better prepare them for diving into the heart of this monster.

Thrd, and most damning of all in my opinion, is a truly bad case of Elminster Syndrome. Relatively high level NPC's who are single handedly capable of resolving all the issues at hand lurk about the corners of this module, and they don't do so for no good reason. Players are going to sit back and ask why in hell the 12th level + druid and her cohort of other high level druids haven't just plowed the castle into the ground by now and destroyed the evil that infests it as they could so so very easily, and the text itself provides no real answers on this matter. To its credit, though, the module does not throw the PC's into the role of supporting cast to sit back and watch as more powerful and more important NPC's do everything, nor do the NPC's fall into the equally aggravating role of "quest givers." Perhaps the only solution here, really, is to decrease the levels of notable druids, or merely to push them into the background more.

Came Back Wrong

2010-01-28T15:54:00.000-08:00

The Raise Dead spell is one of those iconic spells in D&D and I've never known a player who didn't look forward to 9th level more than any other so that he could bring his companions back from the dead. I've even seen a few who started using the spell as a source of great profit, raising peasants from the dead for a hefty fee. However, once this spell gets into the hands of the players, death can become very cheap. At earlier levels, a significant enough mistake by the players leads to death which cannot easily be reversed if at all. Players may go through multiple characters before they even manage to make it to level 2, but by 9th level, death suddenly has much less meaning.

Of course, by this level, the cleric is casting other spells of equally significant import. At this level, there seems to be a qualitative change in the nature of spells for the cleric, going from localized and immediate effects to far reaching and often permanent effects (Quest, Plane Shift, and Commune by which the cleric may speak directly with his deity). Raising the dead seems to be the quintessance of that trend, so on the one hand, it might be wise enough to leave well enough alone and not fidgit with the spell.

However, I've never been a fan of the revolving door afterlife, and I'm definately a fan of the harsh, stark, and terrifying. That's why I'm throwing a little twist into the concept of any creature returning from the lands of the dead, at least in Thylia where the cosmology of the Great Wheel is not present (but that's a separate post).

Anyone who is raised from the dead via the magic of mortals (i.e., via the Raise Dead, Ressurection, or Reincarnation spells) or via magical artifacts created by mortals has a flat 65% chance of simply "coming back wrong" from the strange and horrifying realms beyond this one. If so, the DM should roll randomly or use his own discretion. The players need not be told.

1.Profound Epiphany: During his time in the realms beyond, however brief or extended, the character has been deeply affected by what he has seen and come to the realization that his life was spent in banality and sin. Due to this, his alignment is shifted randomly at the discretion of the DM and he may abandon a previous career or goal in favor of something more in line with his new ethical views.

2.I Remember Everything!: Rather than having his memory wiped appropriately by the spell, the character remembers everything he perceived in vague and undefinable terms. As a result, he is either 1.manic and incoherent, 2.despondant and suicidal, or 3.catatonic. In any case, he will require the intervention of powerful curative magics or some other method to repair his personality as determined by the DM.

3.Broken Mind: The stress of returning from the grave lands has snapped something within the character's mind. He has developed a type of insanity dtermined from the DMG.

4.Brought Something Home: On his way back, the character has been lached onto by a being from outside the Prime Material reality. Equal chances of it being Good or Evil or an entity entirely designed by the DM. The creature may or may not enter reality immediately alongside the character, or may appear many miles away, or on the other side of the kingdom, but the creature will be aware of the character's location and will feel compelled to seek him out for reasons of his own. Alternately, the creature and the character may find themselves occupying the same mind, vying for control of the body (a successful saving throw vs. Paralyzation during a situation of intense stress is sufficient to gain or retain control on the part of the player).

EDIT: Forgot to add that I intend to increase the casting time of this spell from a single round to a full hour requiring specialized rituals and chants. Never seemed quite right that Raise Dead took only a minute of chanting and wailing and suddenly he's all better again. Such a boon as this would take significant supplications and effort I think.

How Fantastic is Fantasy?

2010-01-27T17:02:00.000-08:00

I know I shouldn't, but it's a bit like a dog worrying at a bone. On those dull days in the office when no actual work seems to happen, but a lot of "station keeping" goes on, I typically surf over to the forums (usually at Giant in the Playground since they're terribly entertaining and infuriating at times and the Kenzer & Co. boards since Dave and Jolly and their crew are just so damned cool for refusing to be just "another turd in the pot" company) and pick on the New School folks. It's a bit hypocritical, I know, since I'm not really and Old School kind of guy, but sometimes they just tickle me.

Today and yesterday, though, they actually got me to thinking on a couple of things. Primarily, the discussion of what level of the fantastic is "right" for a game. Just how strange, fantastic, or downright odd do things get before one draws the line? As things on the internet go, there was no real room for moderate views in this discussion. You were either for, what was termed, dull and "Tolkienian" fantasy, or you would permit anything and everything (specifically, everything and anything that a player wanted, but that's another argument entirely). The example that got dredged up from the fevered recesses of somebody's mind was that you could either be playing Greyhawk with nothing but the core Human, Elf, Dwarf etc. core races and classes, or you would play in a game where the players could create a sentient squirrel wizard riding in the "cockpit/wand turret" of a constructed flesh golem mobile platform.

I swear on all that is holy that I'm not making that last bit up. See for yourself.

My first reaction has got to be . . . why the fuck would you want to play such an absurd character? What possible interest would you have in it? I mean that seriously. What connection could you make to even access such a concept as anything other than a monster? Why would it not simply be swarmed by folks the instant it stepped into public and slain for the abomination that it is? And of course, the opposite would be just ye olde boring D&D campaign right?

Now that the thought's been rattling around in my brain, slowly eating at my sanity (if it weren't for my horse, I would not have gone back to school that year . . .), I have to ask myself at this point whether there's a real difference between such a . . . thing . . . and the concept of wizards conjuring fireballs from thin air and giant winged reptiles with terminal halitosis hoarding coins and magical items? I like to say often that there's a difference between suspending your disbelief, and hanging it by the neck until dead, and that this clearly falls on that side of the line, but why is that on one side, and the dwarf on the other? Huge metropolitan campaigns where everybody plays as their favorite monster race on that side, and the race preference charts on the other? I mean hell, I'm in the middle of working through some material for Thylia, and I stumbled across a line where I traced a particular artifact to extra-terrestrials, and I'm OK with that, but still something that wierd as even the sentien necromantic rodent sticks in my craw.

James has talked about this in passing over at Grognardia (and I'm not throwing up a link because I'm far too lazy and if you read this you're most certainly familiar with his work) as it concerns that notable module about and Expedition to the Barrier Peaks and Gamma World. He termed it Science Fantasy, and I think it's fair to say that in its original inception, D&D was, as much as Gamma World, a science fantasy game rather than a strict fantasy game. In the end, I find myself much more comfortable on the Fantasy side of that equation, even so far as to prefer fantasy literature that reads less like fantasy and more like medieval period pieces - A Song of Ice and Fire as case in point.

Am I wrong to sit here and strip out such things from "my" game? Am I hammering D&D into a mold that it doesn't really entirely fit? The answer is, I don't know. What I do know, though, is that the more strangeness (specifically, the more breaks from our own reality that we are forced to make) in a game, the harder it becomes for the players and the DM to insert themselves into the world and interact with it. It becomes less about exploring, and more about constnatly trying to keep your feet and learn about the next thing that's been changed. The wierder things get, the more quickly I, as a player, get thrown out of immersion.

And I suppose that I'm a real fuddy who should just hang up his dice because in browsing through a PDF of The Savage Frontier supplement for the Forgotten Realms, I'm forced to admit that, while the background material is excellent, most of the interesting locations that they call out to attention just drive me creatively up the wall. The stronghold of Ascelhorn, now fallen after its occupants had dealings with Hell in order to preserve their power, now known as Hellgate Keep (or something like that): good. It's interesting, and provoking. It then goes on to say that the keep is now ruiled by a type VI demon with hordes of minion demons and undead and that it is a terrible place on the brink of conquering the entire North: not so good. As much as I like demons and devils, and I really do, for some unidentifiable reason, this just . . . ugh. And it's largely the same for much of the Forgotten Realms. It seems that magic and "fantasy" are just leaking out of its pores, every page screaming D&D adventure. If anything, the best way I can describe it is that the Realms are just too . . . well . . ."too D&D." They're too heavily influenced by the way the game works, allowing mechanics and rules books to shape the realm than letting the rules serve the world setting, as I see Greyhawk doing for the most part.

I honestly have no conclusion here, other than to say that this is bothering me with some absurd shame about not being fantasy enough. Am I wrong here? Where do others draw their line between what does and does not make it into a D&D, or any other system's campaign?

The Lord's Blade

2010-01-13T16:11:00.000-08:00

The Lord's Blade - for its original name and wielder have been lost to time - appears to be a bastard sword of good quality, inscribed with runes the length of the blade along either side of a deep blood groove. The cross guard and pommel seem to be plain, unadorned brass, the hilt wrapped in plain leather the last time this sword surfaced. Closer examination by a competent smith, however, reveals that the blood groove is, in fact, no such thing. While most weapons of this type are constructed of a single bar of steel stock formed into a blade and sharpened, this blade is constructed by 6 thin strands of unalloyed iron welded together and overall clad in a hardened steel jacketing. The result is a bastard sword weighing a full 20% more than a typical blade (12 pounds instead of the typical 10 pounds), but which is of exceptional balance and craft. The runes are deeply incised and no scholar has yet been able to translate them without the aid of magic. If a suitable spell is utilized, they can be translated thus: By this symbol I swear this oath, and by this blade I maintain my oath, that leadership is service.

If subjected to a detect magic spell or effect, the weapon radiates a strong aura of magic of indeterminate type. All efforts to elucidate the abilities of the weapon - whether by Identify or Legend Lore spells, or by some other method - fail unless the oath is taken. If someone capable of wielding the blade holds it in both hands and, under the blessing of a Priest of either Light or Dark, speaks the oath, that person will become bound by the oath and all powers of the Lord's Blade will be apparent to him.

*First, due to its exceptional balance and craft, the speed factor is reduced by three whether wielded one handed or two. Further, the sword has a saving throw of 5 against all types of normal physical damage whether due to extreme stress, fire, lightning, and etc. Extremely powerful magics can overwhelm this. Both of these bonuses are inherent to the blade itself and are not magical.

*During combat, it functions as a +2 weapon in all regards.

*In the hands of an acknowledged leader (whether a king, emperor, baron, or merely a mercenary captain), the sword confers a +4 bonus to Charisma. This bonus does not affect the physical appearance of the wielder (i.e., it does not make them handsomer), but improves their ability to command and influence those around them.

The Lord's Blade, while certainly a very powerful magic item, is a tremendous curiosity throughout Thylia, for though its oath would appear to be at odds with an evil world view, it will serve an evil warrior as faithfully as it would the staunchest Paladin. It is believed in some circles that the weapon possesses some level of intelligence or ego, though this has never been proven or even evidenced. Currently, its whereabouts are unknown.

Magic Item: Imperator's Regalia

2009-12-08T18:06:00.000-08:00

This is the accoutrement of the Imperators, high officers in the Thylian region that govern the colonial holdings and acquisitions of the Imperium, that ruled 400 years ago. To all of Thelerite descent, or those who at least pretend, any of these items is immediately recognizable as a symbol of authority and power within the Thelerite Imperium. Any who bear them will certainly attract attention from those who know and care about such symbols.

Scholars of the period report that in the early centuries of the Thelerite Presence, sets of these regalia were relatively common, possessed by many or even most of the regional lords administering holdings outside of the imperial heartland. It is believed that in that time, each regalia befit its owner's personality both in appearance and power, but today, there are but a few pieces remaining, and each is coveted by those who would see the Imperium returned and re-empowered.

Imperator's Armor

This is a suit of studded leather armor. The leather is died a dark blue, almost navy, color, or perhaps taken from the hide of some strange and unknown creaturefrom faraway lands. The studs are bronze and arranged in intricate patterning resembling intertwined vinces, except for the front where they frame a cunningly wrought figure of a figure appearing to be a cross between a human or humanoid and some sort of draconic creature posession sinewy tale, ellongated neck, and clawed hands: the symbols of the Imperium's ruling family from time immemorial. It is sized for a human, or any humanoid/demi-human being of approximately six feet, though it is known that it can be adjusted for persons anywhere from five-and-a-half feet through nearly six foot four. It carries a simple +2 enchantment affecting both AC and saving throws appropriately. Once per day, the wearer is able to invoke the ability to Detect Lie per the spell according to their own level. If they are not of sufficient to cast the spell as if they were a cleric, then this ability does not function. This armor will not function at all for any being of elf extraction and, in fact, those who attempt to wear it will find it binding and restricting, affording no defensive bonus at all.

Guard of the Imperator

A tall, rectangular medium shield designed to protect a roughly human sized figure from knee to nose. Blazoned across the front is the draconic sillouette of the imperial ruling family, crossed by the bar sinister in blue and black. The shiled appears to be constructed of wood, though of what type it is unclear for it is an unearthly white and it weighs only half of what a similar shield of oak should. At any time, the bearer can sacrifice 1d4 hit points in order to cast a light spell at 5th level of ability. This damage heals normally. The light itself is unbearably painful, though non-damaging, to most types of undead and will drive them back as per a 5th level priest's turning ability. Any who are drained to 0 hit points or less by this power will be drawn wholly into the shield and vanish from this world, their souls beyond the reach of all but the most powerful magics.

Hand of the Imperator

This is, perhaps, the most infamous of the currently known regalia, for it has a truly sinister reputation. A short sword with a broad, leaf shaped blade and a jagged edge in the form of fine barbs running back along most of the length of the blade. The steel is is forged from is stained a dark color, almost black. The sword carries a +1 enchantment, but is also a sword of wounding, inflicting terrible wounds that are difficult, oft impossible to heal. Worst of all, on any critical hit (or natural 20 if no critical hit rules are used), the sword will effect a vampiric regeneration on behlaf of the wielder, healing him for a like amount of damage inflicted upon a foe. For every point of damage inflicted in this manner (but not for normal blows struck with it), there is a cumulative 1% chance that the wielder will become addicted to the sensation and will do anything to experience it as often as possible, even to the point of attacking innocent victims and comrades.

The last owner of this blade is well remembered, though his name is never spoken or recorded if possible. Nazdith the Wild cut a bloody swath across the realm, killing dozens of innocents before he was finally slain by a group of heroes. Unfortunately, the Hand itself was lost and its current wearabouts are unknown.

Imperator's Orb

A six inch diameter orb of copper stamped with the intertwining vines and draconic symbols of the Thelerites: it weighs approximately 5 pounds. It's powers are wholly unknown, though rumored to be anything from functioning as a crystal ball to controlling the Great Wyrms that gnaw at the root of the world.

Arduin Eternal Shipping Soon

2009-12-05T12:51:00.000-08:00

Well, since I'm out from under the NDA, and they're actually shipping the product, I feel that I can actually talk about this openly now, at least a bit.

This is not a review, since I don't actually have the finished product in my hands yet. I was lucky enough to be a playtester for Arduin Eternal, the third version of the game (or, maybe, 3.6, it's kinda hard to tell), and I'm eager to see what Monte actually put together in the end with this. I say this, despite the fact that I've seen the beta test, because the very last thing I or many of the other playtesters have heard is that "big changes" have occured, so pretty much everything I say here may be entirely wrong. Also, despite the fact that I am no longer under NDA, I'm going to act as though I am for the most part because, well, frankly that agreement I signed scared the crap out of me. If, when I finally get my hands on this book and get a read through, none of what I say here applies, I will gladly retract it all.

So, many of the grognards lurking about the web are already familiar with Arduin, if only in the format of the little booklets that were nothing more than options books for the original LBB version of D&D. Few people remember, or for that matter want to remember, that there was a second edition released entitled The Compleat Arduin (spelling intentional). That was a very curious set of books if only for the novelty of them. They were the first set of books out of Hargrave's mind that attempted truly to turn Arduin into more than just "Hargrave's Campaign" and house rules and into a singular and whole game if its own. It's also remembered frequently as a truly terrible game, which is mostly unfair really. Was it simple and easy to understand? Not a chance. But in the end, it's still a very enjoyable game and I recommend that version to anybody who's got the temperment to take a hammer to it and make it into their own.

Now, Monty StJohn, author of The Worldbook of Khass, has put together a new, completely revisualized version of the Arduin game that will lock in with his previous work. Of course, being a systemless book, saying that anything at all will lock in with the worldbook is . . . meaningless, but you probably understand what I'm talking about at least.

This new book, called Arduin Eternal, is a significant leap away from the original system (essentially D&D) and the Compleat Arduin systems. People looking for a game that is a strong inheritor of the D&D mechanic, any of them, will be sorely dissapointed. Certainly there are identifiable elements of Gygaxian DNA in the thing, this is a whole other monster that will twist the undies of a fair few.

First, this is not entirely a class based system. Yes, there are classes, and yes, they do, in very broad strokes, outline the general thrust of your character and his abilities, this is, in no way, the class system where fighters, magic-users, and clerics are identifiable and quantifiable packages of specific rules. Instead, being a part of a class nets you access to specific skill sets and talents that are not accessible from the outside, or in some cases as easily improved. For instance, while anybody can learn to use armor and weapons and to hold their own in a fight, Warriors of all stripes have access to deeper and, in some ways, more powerful understanding and abilities in the arts of combat and war than others.

You know, that last sentence seems fairly . . . blatantly obvious now that I'm rereading it, and perhaps in a way it really is. However, it's just not when you're looking at the gaming industry as a whole any more. We currently reside in a world where RPG's largely cater to the wish fulfillment and "give the player what he wants" mentality. A world where "character build" and "fun" are the vast overriding factors, even over the power of the referee. This, though it looks to be that at first blush (and even second and third blush) is not that. There are a great deal of Old School sensibilities here, mixed well with some of the best traits of New Schoolism. Youngin's will have all the choices they could imagine in their wildest dreams, and will be able to build to their heart's content, but some of the older folks will truly love, I think, that things here are very easily stripped down and jiggered into a bare skeleton on par with even the dustiest of grognard lore.

At its heart, at least last time I saw it, there is a core mechanic that governs the entirety of the mechanics. Essentially, roll D100, add modifiers and skill ranks, and compare to a target difficulty number (either set by the ref, or set by an opposed roll). It's really that simple. It just has so much else slathered on that it may throw people off who came here looking for simplicity. Those who come looking for infinite diverersity in infinite combination will also be dissapointed as many choices are not universal and are largely attached to others based on Arduinian flavor.

What the game does very well, though, is to provide tools for both the GM and the players to . . . well . . . the only way to adequately describe it is "go hog wild." Bare bones ideas of how to build magic items, both from the GM's perspective of including them in adventures, and from the players' perspective, of having their character build them. The most logical minds here, though, will probably find them infuriating in their spareness. Not to mention similar rules for demi-urges, spirits, technology and alchemy. A section worth special mention is the rune-magic section, which will drive many people absolutely insane: instead of rune spells as in prior editions, we are provided with actual individual runes that produce specific effects on their own (ranging from fire, earth, air, and water all the way to runes that affect time/duration and dimensions) and in combination with others. Every rune casting is, literally, a recipe that has to be discovered, experimented with, and perfected. The same goes for much everything else.

At its heart, and the last time I saw anything official, the game was all about economies of scale. At its heart, the game is a single, simple mechanic which can be used entirely satisfactorily on its own. Everything else can be added on bit by bit as desired, or left out as you please.

I'm excited to see what the "big changes" are, and if anything I know still actually applies.

Where The Hell I've Been

2009-12-05T12:43:00.000-08:00

Well, I suppose I owe the two or three people who actually read this blog a brief explanation as to my long absence.

First, my home computer suffered a horrifying and total meltdown not long ago. The kind of meltdown from which delicate electronics do not recover. The service group, when called, laughed in my face and informed me that they would not care a whit for a 7 year old computer and that I should be ashamed of myself for having something so old and "out-of-date" in my home. I was forced to purchase a new machine, which took a goodly time to be built and delivered to my lair.

Second, in the process of increasing security, my office has decided that blogspot.com is now a blocked site. I can no longer browse the blogs while in long telecon meetings, and that makes me sad. Nor can I, obviously, make updates to my own pointless and rambling blog while in the office. This cuts down my available time to post things here to about 2 hours a day at most.

Third, I am the semi-proud survivor of several rounds of vicious layoffs in my workplace that resulted in something like a 50% cut in the work force which prevented me from spending as much time online not working as I am want to do at times. This is either because, if my boss is aware I have a blog and reads it, that I am actually a good worker and productive and valued member of the professional community. Or, if he is not reading this, then because the people who decided who was to be terminated and who was to remain are complete and total morons. I tend towards the later myself.

Well, anyway, I'm mostly back in production here, though obviously I won't be able to post terribly often. Yeah, you probably won't see a change at all, so I'm not sure of the point of this post at all.

Anyway, I do have some brief thoughts coming up, so I'll be posting a real thought sometime in the next couple hours.

To all those who hate me: well, you can't get rid of me that easily you bastards!

Fear and Insanely Brave PC's

2009-11-10T08:39:00.000-08:00

Last time, I talked briefly about fear and horror in RPG's (D&D specifically) since it was so close to Halloween. Since I rarely am not thinking about horror stories (both movies and books really), and since I watched the excelent Dracula and His Brides the other night, I've further refined my thinking on this in terms of RPG's.

One of the most difficult realities to face when trying to run a horror campaign, or a campaign with horrifying elements in it, is that players tend to treat their characters as if they were absurdly brave. Of course, compared to the average inhabitant of any world, PC's truly are brave. It takes real courage to face down the average monstrous threats from bugbears to orcs, from kobolds to great wyrms, and most of the inhabitants of the Monster Manual: the average peasant runs in terror while the PC's stand their ground. Which is entirely appropriate in most instances. After all, most of us really do have the itch to play a heroic character seeking glory and riches (or maybe just riches).

But there are times when such courage becomes a little ridiculous. Whether you're actively trying to frighten the players/characters or they simply should be frightened, most likely the players simply are not. It's frustrating even if you manage to build up an unsettling atmosphere that it becomes just like any other action centric session once the veils are torn away and the center of the mystery is unveiled.

The comment (singular) from the last post recommended treating it like a horror movie, at least in part: turn the players into a passive audience for short times. This I cannot agree with. Simply put, this is a role playing game, not a horror flick. Part of, perhaps the main part of, the fear rests in the choices the players make, or are forced to make. It's about looking at your list of choices and knowing that there isn't a "good" choice and a "bad" choice, merely choices and few, if any of them, wholly worthy of the risk or likely to repair the problem(s) at hand. You've killed a vampire and taken his powerful magic item from him, but the local powers that be (a pack of wolfwere bards who run the nearby city and university) are in front of you and want that item. You don't know what they'll do with that magic item, but you can only assume that it will be nothing good, but keeping it from them means a fight and there's nothing at all you can do to stand up to them, at least for the moment. What, precisely, do you do here?

Is that horror? Or is that not? I'm not entirely sure, honestly, but it's something that certainly horrifies me, the thought of trying to do something good (yes, for the most part I, as a player, tend to create and run characters motivated a little less by the money and more by the thought of improving the world in some small way) and instead having merely transitioned the danger/evil from one place to another, or even worse, increased the danger inadvertaintly. Of course, the danger here is in pushing it too far and refusing the players any level of success instead of simply moderating or corrupted success. After a certain point, it feels pointless and the fun gets drained out of it all.

This is also, incidentally, where I believe the concept of fear and horror checks rests. These little "tools" for the DM out of Ravenloft the setting are there to tell the players how their characters feel. While certainly useful at times, it tends to be something with all the subltety of a hammer. They can be useful to be sure and can, in some cases, give cues to players who like to get into the swing of things to have a lot of fun, but most often they feel contrived and more like something that overrides player choice in favor of a "desired result." Something that results from too much faith and emphasis on plat rather than story as well.

One of the best methods for putting a little fear into players that I've found is in the monsters. No, not in finding stronger and more terrifying monsters, but in using them properly. Nothing puts a crimp in players' styles quicker, at times, than a monster that refuses to "play fair" by simply standing there and dying politely. More than likely, the monsters have plans and goals and are going to act to further them even when, or especially when the players aren't ready for them. Moreover, monsters don't play fair and limit themselves to attacking "military targets. Wanna upset a player? Take an NPC that they've become attached to, who has sheltered them or provided aid in some way, and have a frustrated opponent who can't strike directly at the players kill them or turn them instead.

Another great tool is monsters that "violate" the PC's, or do something just "wrong" enough the get past the character/player filter. I love Goblyns (spelled with a "y") for this. Nothing says scary like a moderately tough humanoid that will eat your face off the first chance it gets (literally). And for added fun, see what you get when you add just a little bit of low level telepathy or instant communication as they did in Castles Forlorn.

There have to be better ways of communicating genuine horror if not actual fear than turning the players into an audience and perfuse purple prose.

Mildewed Thoughts

2009-10-23T11:08:00.000-07:00

Just getting a few things out of my brain before I suffer a stroke over them.

1. I wonder if it's possible to make a living by actually working reasonble hours. I've done nothing other than sleep and work for about a month and a half now, and it's inexorably pushing me towards a psychotic break. You wouldn't like me when I'm crazy.

2. Thoughts of late turn, naturally, to horror. In the D&D world, that naturally leads to thoughts of Ravenloft the campaign setting. There's a nice little review of Ravenloft's history over at Advanced Gaming Theory, from the first module all the way through the horrors that were inflicted on us by crappy writers and the bitch in charge of TSR at the time. I agree with most of it, but I'll say that there are a few of the modules that were really excellent, most notable among them was Castles Forlorn, a madening little twist of insanity involving time travel and a bad guy to drive you loopy.

More specifically here, in between TPS status reports, I've been pondering how a good horror campaign in AD&D would run without falling into the same traps that TSR's middle and late Ravenloft did. TSR, you see, noticed that most of our greatest horror movies and stories revolved around a central "bad guy" or antagonistic character. Dracula is mostly about the titular vampire and the efforts organized to defeat it. Frankenstein's tale is about the mad doctor's perverse disfigurement of the natrual cycles of birth, life, and death (and if you have forgotten just how perverse this really was, go back and read it again keeping in the front of your mind the image of a woman giving birth). Hell, in the end, even Halloween (our first and greatest slasher movie) became, in the end, mostly about Mr. Meyers. This is great, because the greatest horror, in my view, revolves around the concept of a single, charismatic damned soul and those caught up in its orbit or a very few other rare concepts.

But, of course, this doesn't make for a good roleplaying game. What scares us on the big screen just makes for crappy gaming, really, so what, exactly, is the composition of a good horror game? I suspect it has little to do with Ravenloft itself and more with understanding the underpinnings of what frightens us individually rather than what frightens us in the books and movies.

3. Thoughts of late also turn, for some unknowable reason, to The Peninsular War and the prospect of a game set in the style of The Richard Sharpe series. If you've not experienced this particular series, it behooves you to take some time and get into it. I think it'd be a great deal of fun to put together a series of "adventures" or more appropriately, missions, casting the players as members of a detached unit in either the military intelligence corps or part of the 95th Rifles. Of course, the trick would be to avoid the "Star Wars Syndrome" and keep major personalities out of the game. As tempting as it might be to put Welsey into play, I'd hate myself for doing it.

4. Thylia is log jammed in a corner of my mind, slowly developing a tumor that keeps me up nights. I find it becoming darker and darker in my mind and less and less like the original D&D, and even less like the morality play that 2nd edition can turn into. Bleak and hopeless wastes populated by men and women who's sole concern is to survive to the next day. I feel compelled, here, to quote "The Widening Gyre," but I shall resist such temptation for now. I'd like, more and more to actually assemble a group to give this world a twirl, but it's hard to set aside time to actually do that. Perhaps a Thursday or Friday night game, weekly or bi-weekly, but really, how many northern Jersey gamers are there?

Why Aren't We Gaming In Pandorum?

2009-09-30T11:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, this isn't a movie review at least partly because I haven't completely mentally digested the thing yet, and partly because, well, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you what went on in that flick. For those that have seen it, you'll understand.

The purpose here, though, is to simply state the obvious that Pandorum the movie seems to be a perfect setup for a sci-fi/modernesque RPG game. It would be ridiculously easy to set this up as a short (or long) adventure using some modern ruleset (like Alternity or D20 Modern) and watch as things unfold.

That is all.

Specialist Wizards

2009-09-29T11:24:00.000-07:00

In the comments here, James M. talks about why he dislikes 2nd editions take on specialist wizards. Rather than clutter up the comments over there too much, I'll throw this up here.

I dislike 2e's specialist wizards for two reasons. First is the creation of a universal spell list that lumps both MU and Illusionist spells into a single collection. In 1e, there were spells -- illusionist spells -- that no MU could ever cast, regardless of their ostensible school. I think 2e misreads the meaning of the schools and attempts to over-rationalize them at the expense of flavor and mystery, which is what having separate spell lists for each class did.

Second, and more damning, many of the specialist wizard types exist for no other reason than to fill out a schema. No effort is made to make each specialist type unique. Instead, each type gets an identical bonus for its favored school and cannot cast spells from one or more "opposed" schools. It's in my opinion the triumph of categorization over substance, a kind of "spreadsheet" mentality where everything has to fit in a nice little box according to an outside rationale.

I don't think 2e specialist wizards (or specialty priests for that matter) are unholy abominations and I fully understand the reasoning behind their creation. However, I think they sacrifice too much uniqueness on the altar of simplicity/rationality and, given the choice, I'd rather stick with the original presentations.

While I can sympathize with James' point of view, I can't really agree with it. In my eye, the 1e (or OSRIC since it's effectively the same) Illusionist is no more mysterious than anything else. Nor is it particularly distinct. To me, it looks just like any other magic-user/wizard/arcanist/whatever-the-hell-we're-calling-them-now: a unique spell list is but a distinction without a difference. Honestly, what fundamental difference is there between an Illusionist and a Magic-User in the PHB other than a somewhat exclusive spell list?

Contrary to James' point of view, I think the designers understood the idea of spell schools and spheres perfectly well and that the real objection, here, is that all of 2nd edition's specialists are, at their core, pretty much the same thing. They get the same bonuses and penalties, they chose from a largely identical spell list except for banned and favored schools. In essence, they were as similar as two law school students, one who focused on criminal trial law and the other who focused on corporate finance law. In exchange for sacrificing a certain level of general knowledge (i.e., they do not have the breadth of comprehension that a genarlist does), they gain a depth of knowledge in their chosen field that gives them an edge both in the lab and in the field. In the end, though every one of them works with magic of a different sort, they all belong to the same archetype and class - the hermetic/academic spell caster - and, in my mind, do not at all need to be differentiated more than that. That way lay the dreaded realm of the third edition where every fine nuance on an archetype required it's own unique base class (in some cases there or four base classes) and any number of prestige classes.

Of course, I don't object to the idea that the spell lists are too much the same. Too often, it seems that, for the most part, the spells one wizard carries are virtually identical to just about any other out there. Can't tell you how many times the later 2e modules had every single wizard NPC carry magic missile, even if the evocation school was forbidden them. Personally, I think it might be very interesting to try a campaign in which all wizards are specialists (no such thing as a generalist in this world) and they are able to learn and cast spells ONLY from their favored school: a necromancer, therefor, would cast ONLY necromantic spells. There would be a short list of universal spells, the likes of Read Magic, Detect Magic, and so on, but otherwise, all spells would be the exclusive domain of the specialists.

Now, I'm not at all opposed here to the concept of adding truly unique specialist types. As much as Vancian casting works for D&D, I think the possibility of magically endowed characters who do not utilize recipie like spells is an intriguing one. I've simply never seen an adequate example of it that would work along the lines of the D&D game (or any version of it). Maybe a simple short hand for an elementalist would be to utilize the vancian system, but to remove the "spell book" aspect and have them function more like clerics. Their spell list would be a conglomeration of both clerical and magic-user spells that would fall within that element (i.e., both burning hands and flame-strike would be a part of a fire elementalist's spell list). Instead of a holy symbol or spell book, they would be carrying a fetish or medicine bag type of object which would act as a focus for the magic.

I don't know, I'm ust spitballing here. The entirety of D&D seems built around the concept of Vancian magic (with good reason) and it's difficult to go outside of that boundary without venturing into other realms.

Drow Part II

2009-09-25T07:27:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I don't have the monster manual entry (or Monstrous Compendium entry, or the like) right in front of me, so I'll likely get something about the TSR standard Drow marginally wrong. I don't really care, it's not my purpose to dissect every little nitpicking aspect of that version of the "evil elf."

First and foremost, Drow are elves, biologically speaking (and in terms of rules mechanics) and do not have a small swathe of special powers and spell like abilities at their disposal. A Drow is, from the perspective of the rules, just an elf out of the player's handbook/monster manual. And, while we're here, might as well get this out too: there are no biological divisions between high elves, sylvan elves, wild elves, gray elves, Kheebler elves, shoe making elves, or elves with purple polka dots. An elf, is an elf, is an elf. Any such differences are socio-cultural, not biological or genetic.

Many generations ago (that's elf generations for those keeping score) the elf race was united and ruled from great cities that stood as beacons of civilization in the wilderness. At the time, the elves were the pinnacle of sentient life and, via various paths, began to explore not only the physical world around them, but the multiverse itself. Despite the popular view of elves as an inherently magical race, these early individuals eschewed magic in most forms, finding the reliance on outside sources of power and of easily lost or removed tools dangerous and demeaning. Instead, they preferred the innate power of the mind, of psionics, a tool that relied upon and enhanced the personal power of each.

At some point, the elves made contact with the Illithids - likely via Probability Travel or some similar means - and were horrified by what they found. The Mind Flayers proved a frighteningly accurate mirror to the elves' own ambitions and values, and to their credit, many elves turned away in revulsion and retreated from their cities to lead more ascetic lives. However, a small minority saw in the Mind Flayers not the terrifying prospect of what the elves were becoming, but an admirable role model. They argued in the public forums that these entities were to be revered as a realization of true potential rather than reviled.

For their crimes, these individuals were hunted and slain wherever they were found, but what remained of elven authorities were unable to locate the core faction of these Drow as they were termed. In reality, the Drow used their powerful psionics to pull a portion of the material world into a pocket dimension which their incensed bretheren (having long ago abandoned entirely the practice of psionics) were entirely unable to locate and enter. Whatever safety the Drow had created for themselves, however, was barbed in that each of them bears the mark of that realm standing a full foot taller than most of their more normal bretheren with pale, nearly white skin and preternaturally blue eyes. Occasionally, there have been those displaying faintly reptilian features and habits.

Their motives are mysterious, but assumed to be nefarious and hostile by most civilized persons who know of the Drow's existance. Typically a Drow within the Prime Material World can be found at the center of a web of intrigue and influence, rarely acting on their own or in the open for they are unwelcome in all places.

Professionaly, the Drow overwhelmingly pursue a career in psionics, finding that they have a natural aptitude for it, especially telepathy and clairsentience: they are masters at the art of gathering and using information and controlling those around them. Infrequently, they combine such power with theivery or martial combat. Only occasionally will a Drow take up the study of arcane magic and will never take up the worship of deities or divine, faith based abilities. Truly, the only thing that the Drow worship is themselves.

And now, just because I can, I include this picture, which is the quintessential Drow.

Drow Part I

2009-09-08T08:45:00.001-07:00

I don't like the Drow; which is to say that I do not like what the Drow have been turned into after 20+ years of D&D history and gaming. Somehow, somewhere along the line, they changed from an altogether creepy, consciously immoral race of evil elves broken from their kin and mutated by the mysterious radiations of the depths below the earth to an entire race of chaotic good rebels against a decadent and evil society of their peers. I suspect, perhaps too strongly really, that a certain TSR fiction character by a certain author who shall remain nameless, though I tend to think he rather "gave permission" to a practice that was already rampant by that time. After all, I'm sure that by the time D3 came out, there were more than a few persons chomping at the bit to sink their teeth into a Drow character.

Of course, there are other issues at work. First, and in my mind foremost, how many different brands of elf do we really need? There's already mechanically distinct flavors for wood elves, high elves, grey elves, and elves ad nauseum. Do we really need a special entry for "evil elves"? Granted, according to the grand D&D mythos, Drow aren't just evil elves, they're mutated by the magical radiation of their deep, subterranean lairs, but at times that just seems like an excuse for the next generation of gamers to play an "elf with bonuses" rather than anything else. In their first appearance in Gary's writings (I think they showed up in the Monster Manual, but I may be mistaken), they were little more than a legend, a foot note to a larger elf entry. It was the especially magic nature of Gary's underworld that had changed them, an artifact of setting rather than of sort, thus, I don't think that Gary ever intended all Drow to look the same on paper. They were a prime target for referee individualization and in that light, I'm gutting the Drow of all their magical gizmos and noisemakers. They are, from my perspective, holdover elements from the setting of Greyhawk and, worse yet, the Forgotten Realms and have little or no relavence on my conception of what a conciously evil society of elves would be.

Second, there are whole layers of unfortunate implications orbiting around the dark skinned Drow. Of course I'm not going to attribute racism where none exists, but seriously, the situation is ripe for misinterpretation. Which isn't to mention why a race living underground and far from light would have its skin turn black when, scientifically speaking, the opposite would be true. Of course I know that for Gary, the Drow's blackness was largely metaphorical, a blackness of the soul that was physically manifested as darkened skin pigmentation, but at the same time, I don't see the need for this, leastways because the moment a player catches sight of a dark skinned elf underground he knows precisely what he's in for. No, I see no need at all for dark skinned evil elves when there are other, more interesting ways to deal with physiognomatic ways of expressing inner darkness and spiritual rot. Salvatore from Name of the Rose springs to mind. Jeremy Irons as an "uber-morlock" even more so.

Of course, it's only natural from there to move on to the completely dysfunctional society. Honestly, has anybody seen a culture more rooted in backstabbing, betrayal, and self-gratification as the Drow are most often portrayed as? To the point of ineffectuality even. Nope, my Drow will work and play well, if not with others, than at least with each other.

Then there's the whole spider fixation. On the one hand, yeah, spiders creep me the fuck out. On the other, I'm really tired of Lolth and the dysfunction inspired by the whole premise. Honestly, here I'm torn about whether or not to pull it out entirely.

From what's left (a basic, pointy eared elf), I want to build up towards something that's not related to a certain wangsty character that's inspired millions of copy cats.

Magic Item: The Way Stone

2009-08-28T07:57:00.001-07:00

I have a feeling that this is far less original than I think it is, but I can't find it anywhere in my books that I have access to at the moment. I'm sure if I'm just copying from a sourcebook that I only remember fuzzily, they'll tell me.

The Way Stone

These devices are simple in both form and function. A flat bit of knapped flint pointed on one end, these devices are easily mistaken for arrow or spearheads from a technologically primitive tribe, though a detect magic spell will reveal a minor enchantment of divination. To use, one must simply hold them in the palm of one's hand and name a desired and known location. The stone will spin to point in the direction of that location.

Successful use of the stone is based upon how well known the desired destination is:

*Location known intimately to user (having physically visited for a period no less than 4 hours) - 95%

*Location known in passing (physically passed through on at least one occasion, but did not stay) - 85%

*Location described in detail (as from one who knows it intimately or from a text) - 75%

*Location known only vaguely or by reputation (have heard of location, but do not know any details about it) - 50%

*Location known only by legend or heresay (true existance unsure) - 10%

A failure indicates 50% of the time that the stone simply does not function and 50% of the time the stone will point to a random, incorrect location.

Note that the stone does not indicate passable routes, only the direction in which a point in space is situated. Thus, if asked to point in the direction of the center of the planet, it will point straight down and not at the location of a tunnel that will eventually lead to the center of the planet.

A very few (5%) of these devices will, in fact, point not to a location, but a passable route to reach that location. In the case of common towns, cities, castles, etc., the stone will likely point to a nearby road that will take the user towards their destination. If no road exists, or the "best" route is a direct, overland route, the stone will point in that direction. Asking the location of mythological locations, or locations that are not entirely within the confines of the Prime Material plane will likely generate a prosaic response similar to a Divination spell: helpful, but likely not direct or straightforward.

Illithid of Thylia Part II

2009-08-19T09:38:00.000-07:00

Rather than just edit the previous post like any normal human would, I'm going to make this a follow on post.

For the most part, the Illithid remain an unknown quantity in Thylia. Typically living in deep, subteranean caverns, it is rare for the mind flayers to step foot upon the surface of the world, though from time to time, explorers have stumbled upon one of their outposts and lived to tell the tale. What is known to the surface world is based almost entirely on wild stories that grow more lurid and less true with every telling and the academic observations of a handful of sages lucky enough, or mad enough to have gotten their hands upon the body of one of these creatures and some of their belongings: Petras is one of the more widely known "experts" on the subject and occasionally will hire the foolish and greedy to venture beneath the surface of the world to collect samples for him.

In truth, the Illithid are the first sentient species to inhabit the place now known as Thylia, or at least the remnant of it since it is almost certain that their current form is not their original for it is the driving motive behind all of Illithid society to drive their race to physical and mental perfection via targeted modification. Having had practice for many thousands of years, the mind flayers have grown exceedingly skilled at biologic and genetic "artistry" as they would term it. Potential changes are proposed and discussed by a council convened once every century where further and alternate courses of research are explored. When a desired change is fully agreed upon, it is implemented in young Illithid and undifferentiated spawn (a viscous and vile slime kept in great vats by tenders capable, with electric stimulation, of spawning half-power Illithid in 1d2 weeks and grow to full strength over the course of 1 year) where its effects upon the population can be carefully monitored. Eventually, the modification will breed into the population as a whole and the original form left behind.

Long ago, a mind flayer exploratory party discovered the mortal races infesting the sunlit realms and found in them not vermin or food (though they found the brains of these creatures to be particularly appatizing), but a blank genetic/biological canvas upon which to paint their will: a collection of simple, uncomplicated DNA strands compared to the vastly denser Illithid genetic code providing a perfect experimental test-bed to be used without compunction. It's unclear how many test subjects are kidnapped from the surface and how many are purpose bred, but it is almost certain that the humanoid and demi-human races have all been affected by the experiments of the Illithid lurking beneath their feet.

Illithid of Thylia

2009-08-17T07:34:00.000-07:00

From "Illithidia: An Examinatory Journal and Summary" by Petras, Scholar and Hedge Wizard:

"Cold, alien, and methodical." Such are the only descriptors that can, academically, be reasonably applied to the little known, almost mysterious, beings known as the Mind Flayers, or Illithid in their own parlance. Those who tell the stories about them, though, tend to add such descriptors as "evil, malignant, horrifying, etc." either out of ignorance, or desire for enhanced narrative interest. Indeed, outside of certain academic circles, very little is known about these entities which is, I'm certain, a result both of the sedentary lives of typical peasants and the difficulty of returning with objective observations from survivors of actual encounters.

From a simple anatomical standpoint, the Illithid are wholly alien and otherwordly compared to native species of Thylia. Vivisections of those few living individuals brought back by enterprising adventurer capatalists reveal few familiar anatomical structures within the Illithid, though I have tentatively identified pulmonary and cardiac systems: however, even these seem entirely divergent in form and function than those found within standard humans and humanoids. For instance, I have found no emotional center within the cardiac system of the Illithid I've examined as one would expect in a human or, say, an elf: the whole seems to be decentralized and independant of other systems. Indeed, these beings show marked differences in basic form even one from the other so much so that it is possible to identify, potentially, two sub-species of the larger whole.

Of motives or intellect, little can be said of these creatures even though the learned are cognizant of some of their actions. Those with first hand experience of the lairs of the Illithid report laboratories similar to those kept by the learned and wise of the cities. Test subjects of various sorts kept confined in cages, tables for vivisection and examination, various delicate tools (extremely fine knives, hooks, probes, and other unidentifiable tools), and other such academic apparatus dominate as well as, on occasion, the apparant results of their experiments in the form of misceganated conglomerate beings: humans with the limbs of wild animals, horribly and purposely mutated persons presumably captured from the surface world, and hybridized creatures somewhat akin to the bizaare owlbear familiar to our world. The Illithid seem to be experimenters, creators, and changers, but to what purpose none can say as they do not speak of themselves nor reveal their thoughts in any intelligable way to the remainder of the academic community.

Whatever their intent and purpose, one must admire the artistic flair of the Illithid's creations and ponder what, if any, entities now living upon the surface world have been touched by thier hand.

Coming Up

2009-08-13T14:10:00.000-07:00

Coming up in the near future to this blog as real life begins to calm down:

1. The Drow of Thylia are dragged kicking and screaming into the light. Never really cared for the original conception of them, or more specifically what Salvatore did to them, but I've always had a passion race of dark (metaphorically) ur-elves that had grown socially if not genetically along a different path than the typical elf.

2. Illithid culture of Thylia. Lurkers in the dark.

3. The map I've mentioned once or twice, if I ever manage to remember to bring it to work where I have a scanner. Then you can all mock my complete ineptitude in artistic matters.

4. Dragons and the Great Game.

5. A general outline of a few thousand years of Thylian history.

6. A play report of my attempt to run Death Frost Doom this comming Sunday. Yes, I actually game. Surprise.

What's With All The Ruins?: or Fantasy Urban Renewal

2009-08-13T11:14:00.000-07:00

If there's one surety in any D&D campaign, it's a surfeit of crumbling ruins, mysterious misplaced castles and towers, and vast, intricate, underground complexes. Those underground complexes are another issue unto themselves, but that's neither here nor there. My question today is: where the hell do all those ruins come from?

For the most part, these types of things are only haphazardly explained in most campaigns, or not at all. Which is fine since the real world is replete with abandoned and decaying structures the purposes of which are either long forgotten or not widely known. Hell, Eastern Europe is positively lousy with decrepit castles, monastaries, and stone structures. So it's not exactly a tremendous stretch to imagine a fantastic, medieval stasis type world positively busting with such things. After all, you know how wizards are: they must have some sort of fetish for non-Euclidian geometry in home decor . . .

But the problem for me is that the little Smeagol in me, in all of us really, starts to ask "where are they from?". Who built these places and why? Who was the original owner of the castle that the PC's evicted a tribe of goblins from? Why? Where'd he go? What came before this? I'm always, as a player, snuffling around looking for a root cause, an origin, a precurser, which drives my DM absolutely insane at times. "Sometimes a castle is just a castle" indeed.

It's not crucial to explain every single nuance of the world, and in fact doing so is detrimental in the long run, but a ref owes it to himself and his players to at least throw out a generic, overarching rational for the surplus of crumbling architecture. First off, it provides an easier way for the ref to fend off the overly curious players who look to make a bigger comotion out of relatively minor details. You have no damn clue why that particular castle is there, but if you can tell them something, anything, then they'll probably be satisfied on some level.

Second, and better, it provides a potential jumping off point for deeper explorations by the players. It leads those curious players deeper into the world even though it's only an illusion of depth and into that curious place where the players start helping the ref build the world around them. Tell them the tower is a guard post and the really good ones will start asking the next obvious question: a guard against what? Their speculations can lead to some pretty decent ideas that inspire new directions. Who the hell knew a great hobgoblin nation lay just on the other side of that winding valley path? Or that in the deepest pit of this place was a magicaly spawned portal into some insanity inducing realm responsible for some of the stranges things in the world. Hey, owlbears have to come from somewhere don't they?

For its part, the current region of Thylia being details (the northwestern region of the continent for those who actually care) was the site of a gradual invasion and assimilation by the distant Thelerite Imperium. A fleet of 4 ships made landfall on the western shore and promptly informed the local population (mostly cloistered dwarf communities who cared little for anything but their craft and semi-nomadic bands of humans) that they had been conquered and were expected to render unto the Imperium. The dwarves promptly ignored the invaders in typical dwarven fashion for, south of their home kingdom, they really didn't care a whit what some poncy Imperator had to say. The tribal humans found the whole thing terribly amusing and proceeded with business as usual, treating the Thelerites as a mild curiosity and occasional trading partner: their steel weapons were, after all, far superior to the copper and knapped flint still used by many. The Thelerites, satisfied that they had succeeded in claiming the land expanded ever eastward in waves, leaving in their wake long defensive lines of keeps, towers, and walls that the natives simply went around, under, or over as was convenient.

Around 350 years ago, however, the Imerium began to recede towards the coast again and before long, the carefully built civil structure that they had created was gone. Few, according to the dwarves, cared or even noticed the change.

Assassins and Archetypes

2009-08-06T10:05:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest strengths of D&D, I think, is the class system. No, it doesn't have ten thousand options for not only fighters and wizards, but "beguilers" (whatever the hell those are), knights, barbarians, warlocks, battle mages, etc. But that's not the point, nor the intent of the AD&D class system (and the D&D system from the little brown books and BECMI as well really). Instead, Gary Gygax's conception of a "class" was less of a packet of customizable character powers and abilities to help some poor dateless wonder realize his fantasies of playing a super cinematic character, but as broad archetypes, instead. Thus, a fighter isn't a job description, it's a category denoting "those who fight with armor and weapons in a martial manner" instead. A magic-user/wizard/mage is "one who uses arcane spells" and not a title. A thief - often the butt of grognardian displeasure because, of course, why does one need to belong to the thief class in order to steal? - is not so much one who steals as "one skilled in subterfeuge, stealth, and non-direct means."

Within these categories, the possibilities are numerous. Within the category of "fighter" for instance, lies the characters of an ex-soldier, Robin-Hood, a raging berserker, a swashbukling romantic hero, a town guard seargeant, or simply a degenerate thug. Likewise, the cleric category can encompass anything from Brother Cadfael to a frenetic ideological zealot. This is why I don't really like the multiplication of entities when it comes to classes. Simply put, they're just not needed, or they draw a distinction where none should be (i.e., why is it that all barbarians after UA are really berserkers? Isn't "barbarian" a cultural and social distinction instead?).

That's why, in the end, I don't see the need for an entire class devoted to the assassin. In the end, isn't an assassin merely one who kills for money? Why can't a member of any class perform that function? As it is, the class seems merely to co-opt part of the function of the thief class, but not as well. Ostensibly, a professional hired killer and a spy (two archetypes for the price of one?), but I simply do not see the need for this in the core rules say what you will about maturity, tone, of juvenality. The removal of the assassin from the core PHB in 2nd edition was, in my mind, a moderate improvement along these lines.

But what about the ranger, druid, bard, and paladin? Aren't they the same issue?

Yes, they are. And no, given the model of archetypes that I think Gary was following, I don't think that they're all together neccessary or needed within the core rules of the game. Each of their niches can be filled about as well by one or more of the other classes and good role playing as these extra classes can. Hell, the 2e PHB actually denotes the druid as a type of specialty mythos priest, but then goes out of its way to make it virtually impossible to replicate it via the guidlines given for special mythos priesthoods, so go figure.

In my mind, the only truly neccessary classes within the archetypal fantasy framework of AD&D are the Fighter, the Cleric, the Magic-User, and the Thief. All else is gravy.

Of course, one could take this argument far enough to say that there shouldn't be any classes at all and characters are entirely defined by what they do, but then it just wouldn't by D&D would it? We'd be off playing GURPS or something like that and there's no need to insult anybody by going there.

Emanent Death Not Imminent Death

2009-08-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

One of the most frequent complaints leveled at the old school style games I see (and, let's be honest, one of the most inaccurately used points of "nostalgia" as well) is that characters die frequently and gruesomely and often pointlessly. That statue in the first room? Yeah, save vs death. Those who fail, die instantly as the things leaps across the room and throat punches your character. Those who succeed, make a new saving throw every minute until you fail. Then you die.

The belief that Old School dungeons were designed to be unfair PC death traps is, perhaps, a bit unfair. Imminent death, in the static between mistranslations, means that the old games have a "kill-em'all" attitude. That reputation is not entirely applicable, in my opinion as, more often than not, it seems to be based on the conflation of the Tomb of Horros with all modules and the perception of Gary as a "killer GM."

Of course, in reaction, the New School type of gamer pushed towards no save or die at all. It seems to have culminated in 4th edition's "save or minor inconvenience" mentality. Traps are now merely minor obstacles that can be plowed through effectively. The once terrifying powers of high level magic seem . . . less so in the name of egalitarianism of function.

Of course, I'm of a mind somewhere in the middle. Death should be emanant rather than imminent.

Yes, that's a butchering of the English language and I should be locked up for crimes against grammar, but that's not a surprise to anybody here I suspect. Let me explain.

By "imminent death" I mean that character death is all but certain if not immediate. Running through this dungeon, it's only a matter of time before you succumb to one of the plentifle traps forcing save or die effects, the vicious "grudge monsters," or simply the capriciousness of a dick ref. Death WILL happen, and it will be brutal and bloody and there's very little you can do except stave it off for one more room.

"Emanent death," on the other hand, is slightly different. Death is close, possibly even immediate, but it is far from a foregone conclusion. There's always a way for a clever, observant, and well played character to escape should he be intelligent enough to look, even if that way out is to walk away entirely.

That statue in the first room that lops off heads at the drop of a hat? All the clues that a player needs to realize that this is a challenge and to overcome it are present, if they bother to look. Blood stains on the blade, walls, and floor. Perhaps a headless corpse, or a corpseless head at its feet. A very close look from the door might reveal the joints at which the statue is meant to articulate. A detect traps spell obviously. Whatever the circumstance, there's always evidence there that allows the players to escape relatively unscathed, or even to excell.

This non-post brought to you by the fear of corporate layoffs.

Perhaps I'm imagining things here and this is the way all sensible referees run their games. If so, then grand.

Earthdawn Opinions?

2009-07-29T13:33:00.000-07:00

Earthdawn has recently caught my attention, though I hesitate to shell out $100 bucks to look at the new edition just on the chance it might be interesting.

Has anybody who actually reads this blog seen this game in any of its incarnations? How does it play? Got any opinions?

There are, I see, three editions. What's the comparison across them?

Permanent and Lasting Injury

2009-07-29T11:29:00.000-07:00

The 2nd Edition AD&D books specifically discourage players from tracking specific injuries, which I generally agree with. After all, I'm not a kid anymore and I don't get a giggle over the fact that every hit has a 1-in-6 chance of whacking some poor shmuck in the jewels, or neck, or whatever. It's just not necessary and is, in many ways, puerile. It also adds a whole lot of "all the time" complexity that the game just doesn't need.

After all, one of the biggest draws of the D&D type systems for me is the level of abstraction. Whether or not hit points represent purely physical punishment, or a mixture of luck, near misses, and minor wounds sapping a PC's will to go on or something else entirely really isn't all that important. The system is an abstraction for the sake of gameplay and, in the end, it's a completely self-referential one. It's only there to provide a numeric system to govern when your character can no longer function. It makes no real appeals to realism except in that more physical and martial classes get more HP while more "bookish" or "crafty" type classes receive fewer. It's verisimilitude, not realism.

The same goes for the 1 minute combat rounds (of which I am still a strong supporter by the by), the class and level system in general, armor class, and much of everything else in a lot of ways. Everything there sets an acceptable (to us at least) comprimise between realism and abstraction for the sake of game flow.

However, one of the alures of D&D is the loosness of its framework and the ability of the players to "hang on ornaments" so to speak. That's, I think, one of the greatest and most marvelous lessons that TSR learned during the run of AD&D 2ed: that the only thing that separated the core AD&D system from being something else was ornamentation and decoration. Dark Sun, one of the wierdest settings for the game, is little more than AD&D 2ed with a few moderate rules tweaks thrown in (i.e., retooling the attributes charts to account for the concept of Survival of the Fittest run amok, everybody's got psionics, an insanely harsh environment, and so on). That's the strength of 2nd edition, in my mind, it's chameleon like ability to change on the face to

That's a long way to go, I suppose, to get to the purpose of today's post.

Thylia, though I know I've put so little of it up here owing to life going absolutely berserk of late, is at present a bit grim, dark, and gritty. Those phrases have largely lost meaning, especially in WOTC's wake of using them to apply to their new material (one imagines purely in a humerous intent). Things in that world are going badly: monsters lurk in the wilderness, petty warlords claim control over wide expanses of land or just city states, cats and dogs living together . . . But of course, whisper me the difference between that and just about any bog-standard D&D setting?

In order to reflect the darker, somewhat grittier nature of things in Thylia, I'm employing both the modifications to the Vancian spell casting rules I talked of earlier, and a minor system for lasting and permanent injuries.

Simply put, while employing the "at death's door" rule (i.e., you have until -10 hp before you actually die for good), any character or monster/NPC that is reduced to -7 HP or less must make a system shock check or be forced to roll on the chart below to determine what, if any, lasting consequences are assessed.

1. Injury to the face/head. Suffer -1 to WIS/INT/CHA (equal chance of any of them).
2. Torso/Abdomen. Suffer -1 to CON, max HP reduced by 1d20%.
3. Fore/Upper Limb (includes arms (all if multiple), wings, and any other appendage other than a head above body midline). Determine which randomly. Limb is useless unless successfull save vs. death. To-Hit and Damage are -1 with that limb. If quadraped or limb otherwise used for mobility, see Lower/Hind Limb entry below.
4. Lower/Hind Limb (includes legs and other mobility appendages, tails, etc.). Save vs. death else limb is useless. Suffer -1d4x10% loss in movement rate. Limb is -1 to-hit and DAM if appropriate. May require crutch, cane, or other assistave device at DM's discretion.

All effects persist for 1d3 weeks at the end of which the character must make a System Shock check or the effects become permanent unless powerful healing or regenerative magics are applied successfully. At DM's option, surgical arts may be attempted to repair such damage, though they obviously carry significant risks of their own.

I think this will help to bring across the brutality of combat just a little more, and leave open my options open for when truly greivous wounds need inflicting.

Example: Hamlet the fighter is snatched up by a Roc intent on making the hapless adventurer its next meal. Through pure piss and vinneager, Hamlet is able to land a few telling kicks and bites on the bird before too much altitude is gained and the beast drops him. The fall reduces the fighter to -8 HP where he is luckily discovered by a friendly band of elves who bandage his wounds before he bleeds out. Rolling on the chart above nets him a result of 3 and the DM determines that his left arm has been severely broken when Hamlet fell on it. He has failed his saving throw and so the arm is useless for anywhere from one to three weeks. If he fails a System Shock test at the end of that time, the arm is permanently lame and of no use to him at all: a dangerous vulnerability to say the least.

Opinions?

Review: Death Frost Doom

2009-07-21T09:35:00.000-07:00

There's not much for it, here, except to point you over to Grognardia's much better review and then add some of my own dithering commentary here to fill out this post.

First off, I was very pleasantly surprised by Death Frost Doom. On the whole, I've been displeased with the current slew of Old School modules on the publishing line. I'm not going to start talking specifics here because I'm not interested in starting a backdraft (with all 10 of my regular readers, yeah . . .) or engendering hard feelings through a hobby discussion portal. No doubt half a dozen folks will charge in and tell me just how wrong I am, but I will say that, in general, I feel that most of the modules I see coming out of the various publishers and the OSR fall prey to the same fault: they try too hard to imitate the Old School feel and atmosphere and fail at being good modules in their own right. This isn't to say that they're bad modules: they're not. They just, in my opinion, focus too much on imitation and not enough on innovation.

Jim Raggi's Death Frost Doom module, on the other hand, is very impressive in that respect. He certainly has respect for his inspirational material, and it shows strongly in his work, but at no significant point does the module come across as imitative of a particular thing except in spirit. In short, the module relies more on the atmosphere of the weird tale and less on the formula of the weird tale. And it certainly has an atmosphere that is unique among its fellows and makes it stand out.

I'm not going to go into details because James has already done a better job of that than I ever could: not superior only in writing skill, but in knowledge of the source material. It is notable, though, that there are a few places where the author's affection for the Evil Dead series shows through a little more clearly than in others.

One of my favorite things about this module, though I'm sure Jim will shout at me that I'm a clueless noob here, is that it is quintassentially Middle School. There is a story to the module, a strong and interesting backstory, but if the players don't learn it, it's not detrimental at all. It's also loose and vague enough that it can be comfortably bolted onto an existing campaign without too much struggle. One of the most rewarding things I can see in this module, from a player's point of view, would be learning what the hell went on at this place, what was buried there, and getting out alive to tell of it, being able to tell tales in the tavern later on that you outsmarted the pitfals and dangers of this place and came away filthy stinking rich for it. Or, if the players are incautious or just flat out stupid, this module has the capability as written to remake a significant portion of the campaign setting.

Well done, sir. I look forward to tormenting players with this one in the near future.

Evil is Petty

2009-07-16T08:48:00.001-07:00

Following on from good men doing evil for the greater good, I'm moving towards one of my favorite, touchiest topics in terms of good and evil.

One of the commonest mainstay fantasy fiction (and sci-fi fiction for that matter)is the Evil Overlord. So common, in fact, that he has his own list that's moderately famous around the internet. Typically, the control vast armies of evil (draconians, orcs/goblins, insert evil monster of the week here) and are hell bent on conquering the world and molding it in their own image, but spend a great deal of time brooding in their tent or castle like Achiles until the heroes of the story (in our case, the PC's) are ready for the confrontation. It's a concept that's at once familiar and comforting to our inbred sensibilities, that a face can be put on evil, that there's an apparatus it has built up around it. The ability to name and identify the evil and, more specifically, to identify it as "that one over there" is empowering for most people, not only because it builds up the image of a confrontable font of darkness, but it's pseudo-exoneration of those who would oppose it, even if only in principle.

The industrial sized, world threatening, archetypal evil lord is such a common image and device that I'm sure everybody here could name at least half a dozen of them, even excluding Morgoth/Melkor, Sauron, and Hitler (as a literary device, really, and not neccessarily the real life figure).

At a game level, the concept is tremendously convenient since it allows us to build everything around a single, larger conflict. Dark Lord McScarypants is threatening Utopiaville and all kingdoms of sweetness and light in a bid to conquer the world and oppress the innocent and kick little puppies on the street. It's up to the heroes to stop him! Everything else just writes itself into that framework and there's really nothing wrong with it.

When we try to break out of the stereotypical molds of games, we tend to do away with the conspicuous Dark Lords and replace them with "the Big Bad Evil Guy" or BBEG as he's commonly referred to on the mind numbing gaming forums. This guy is a bit like a demoted evil overlord. He gives us the convenience of an identifiable source of evil, or at least of the identifiable troubles, but he's somehow less hokey than the overpowering overlord ruling from his thrown of skulls and clotted blood in the land of shadows somewhere over that direction, but could you maybe look into this strange influx of goblins we seem to be having before you run off and take care of that? More conveniently, with the redefinition of "campaign" as a 1 year start to finish story by the newer editions of D&D, it's something that gives a strong focus to the game. The players are there to investigate the machinations and doings of some evil being who is causing troubles locally or globally or whatever. Over a 1 year time period, sandbox play really isn't that great and, it seems, that D20 type D&D requires a stronger focal point than simply wandering around and looking for adventure. The big bad(s) are a narrative tool, just on a slightly less cosmic scale.

As comforting and convenient as that all is, it ignores some specific and overt realities: and how I do love reality for inspiration. The issue is that evil is petty. Evil is, for the most part, small, relatively contained, and self-interested. World spanning and archetypal evils like that are relatively rare. Far more common are small things, like wife beating, child abuse, murder of local political opponents, and so on. Open up the news today, and you'll find an example of just what I mean. For the record, I find that particular news item extraordinarily unpleasant and the punishment leveled against the girl far insufficient.

For every Morgoth, there are ten Sharky's. For every Hitler inaugurating genocidal campaigns against hated ethnicities, there are a thousand Cheyenne Cherry's throwing kittens into hot ovens just to hear the cries of pain and fear it makes before dying. And more often than not, these evils are motivated almost entirely by self-interest and not some Moorcockian esoteric concepts of law and chaos, good vs. evil. The evil priest lurking at the outskirts of civilization sacrificing innocents in the hopes that his dark master will grant him immortality in the form of undeath as a lich or vampire or specter. A man who rapes and murders a woman who, in town council, blocked one of his pet projects.* A woman who bathes in the blood of her handmaidens in order to preserve her youth and beauty. These kinds of people are memorable simply because they are realistic and believable and because their crimes are far more personal than any plotting and scheming dark lord.

Why am I talking about this? Simply because, hand in hand with "all politics are local" goes "most evil is petty, small, and local." While there might be vast, brooding evil intelligences out in the game world, plotting the overthrow of order, the downfall of light, or whatever, far more effective game villains are of the smaller sort. These kinds of opponents tend to stick in players' minds when they are encountered and, as I said within the Bernardo Gui post, force the players themselves to confront something that is challenging or difficult for them.

*I'm very clear here that such topics are not always suitable for all games, nor am I encouraging those who don't want to deal with such unsavory topics to every include them in their games, nor should such topics EVER be treated lightly.

Review: Malevolent and Benign: A First Edition Bestiary

2009-07-09T12:10:00.000-07:00

I don't have the ability to head over to Expeditious Retreat from behind the Firewall of Doom here, but I'll link you over to Noble Knight where I first found Malevolent and Benign: A First Edition Bestiary.

Honestly, I have pretty much nothing negative to say about this book. First, the cover and internal art (not to mention a sturdy binding, which is always nice) are very impressive. It's all evocative of the Fiend Folio and the first Monster Manual, but very obviously not straight imitation of style either. At least 60% of the creatures in the book have a picture to go with them, but none of the art even comes close to being filler, or creating blank white space: the book is crammed with two column, easy to read text patterned after the format of the monster entries in the OSRIC book.

Inside, about 150 new monsters lurk. Some, yes, are reprints from some of the OSRIC modules out there, but if, like me, you have been finding the modules of spotty interest, then this book is a great find. In reading through, I didn't see any monster in there that I wouldn't be happy to use in my home game. I'm on record as saying I'm not a fan of the goofy, but even here, the goofy is understated enough that even the most jaded player will get a kick out of it all.

Right now, my favorite entry would have to be the Avatar of Famine, a semi-undead fellow with a rather unpleasant special ability that makes him more than a match for even a powerful group. Its presence and origin are just creepy enough that they'll fit well in a horror campaign as much as any other.

Another standout is the Fungal Render: a giant, semi-predatory mushroom that has a knack for, well, you can probably guess given the name.

Oak Men fill a nice niche for those of us looking for more fairie folk to throw into the mix.

Of course, there's a very healthy dose of excellent undead, my favorite type of creature in the game, including a new type of elf lich kin.

It looks to me as if the authors looked for a theme for their monsters rather than "just another 1+1HD humanoid." Almost every monster here, as far as I can tell at the moment, fills a new nich (midget creepy tree men) or expands an existing niche into a new field (ritualized self-embalming elves anyone?) and doesn't trample on the toes of older, classic monsters by creating smudged photo-copies so to speak.

Bernard Gui Was Lawful Good

2009-07-09T06:22:00.000-07:00

James Raggi over at LotFP has put up a series of articles over the last week about alignment. Here's the latest in the series. What's interesting is that the articles are not the standard dithering over defining what Lawful Good and Chaotic Evil really mean as if the definitions in the books weren't already clear, but about larger, farther reaching ramifications, such as what a being of evil incarnate might be like when the evils perpetrated by ordinary humans (even in the name of good) are so heinous as to turn your stomach. A demon or devil, even a relatively low level example, would be evil on a level unknown to lowly humans.

I wanted to get into some of the smaller, closer to home aspects of alignment. How a normal mortal might operate within the framework of the nine-point dual axis (i.e., AD&D alignment system) alignment codification and still break from a 1970's conception of right and wrong and morality: which is not to say anything disparaging against such conceptions, merely that good and evil within the framework of D&D seem to be largely judged from the paradigm of a 1970's educated man, which makes perfect sense since it was written and largely written for 1970's educated men.

My first object lesson is Bernardo Gui, born 1261, died 1331, and arguably the most famous member of the Medieval Inquisition (as VERY distinct from the infamous Spanish Inquisition which he had absolutely nothing to do with). It's remarkable how few people know Bernardo outside of the near caricature by F. Murray Abraham and Umberto Ecco in The Name of the Rose: you see, Umberto disliked the Church in general and the Inquisition in particular and it bled into his writing (which I'm sure he'll be the first to tell you is open to the audience's interpretation) and when the movie was created, it was decided that there was a need for a stronger antagonist than an old monk who hated laughter during the climax, thus was born the enhanced antagonism of Abraham's Gui.

In reality, the man quite literally wrote the book on how the Papal Inquisition was supposed to conduct and comport itself as well as its overall purpose: Practica Inquisitionis Heretice Pravitatis or "Conduct of the Inquisition into Heretical Wickedness." The work discusses the purpose of the Inquisition, describes its "targets" (including a very good description of the Cathars and why they are designated heretical by the Church of the time), and the methodology of accusations, interrogation, indictment, and punishment by members of the Inquisition. Gui did, indeed, advise the use of torture as a method to extract information from accused persons, an act that almost anybody in the Western World would consider irredeemably evil. During his tenure in this position, Gui obtained about 900 convictions, but only turned over a mere 42 to the state for execution. He was very reticent to see the people brought before him executed arguing convincingly that such would be considered a failure of one of the most important purposes of the Inquisition: the detection and rehabilitation of those persons who had strayed from the "correct" teachings of the Church. More common and preferred forms of punishment and rehabilitative therapy included pennance, joining an aesthetic monastic order for a time, a long pilgrimage, flogging, or simply time in the stocks. Killing somebody in this situation would be effectively damning them to hell, something that was to be strenuously avoided as the Church truly believed itself to be in the business of helping to save souls, not condemning them. Thus, execution was reserved for only the most vile and unrepentant heretics.

In the end, and within the context of his historical setting, I would argue that Bernardo Gui would fit in well within the Lawful Good alignment, despite what we would view as reprehensibly evil methods, much of which could be attributed to a Medieval sense of jurisprudence really. Which brings me to my point, at last; while it's certainly great to play D&D within the moral framework of modern folk, there's a lot to be said about opening up to a different moral paradigm. To continue within our example of the Inquisition, how would the players themselves interact with such a person? Upon realizing that torture was being used as a method to seek out and identify heretics (or, perhaps, slightly easier on our modern sensibilities, hidden evil moles), what would the party's attendant Paladin do? The party may be asked to perform tasks for such an inquisition and to abide by its regulations.

Travelling this way is difficult to do without getting hokey and over simplified, but done right, it challenges more than just the technical and role playing skills of the players, it challenges the players themselves. A little narativist in a way? Sure, but even the oldest and grognardiest of games can benefit from some of the better lessons of the White Wolf and Hickman/Weiss revolutions. Dealing with good and evil on a more than just lip service level, forcing players to confront some of their own personal demons within the game, is, in my opinion of course, one of those good lessons. It's another layer of challenge beyond disarming traps, killing monsters with clever tactics, and hauling treasure out from under the nose of a sleeping dragon. How, as a player of a Lawful Good character, do you work within a game world where not only is slavery and martial interrogation (torture) are not only accepted and acceptable functions of society, but are so widespread as to be near universal?

The Problem With HD and Blu-Ray

2009-07-07T06:16:00.000-07:00

This is completely and entirely off topic, but I felt like complaining about it here.

Why the hell is it that every time I try to watch a Blu-Ray movie on my fancy new player that the sound effects and music volume is turned way up (deafening really) but the dialogue is turned down so much that I can't actually hear it at all and have to rely on captions.

It's the same, though to a slightly lesser degree on HD television channels.

Is this a common thing across all HD sources? Is there some special fix that I don't know about? Or is this an example of stupid movie studios who assume "louder is better" and "people don't really care about what's being said on screen anyway"?

Review: Hackmaster Basic

2009-07-06T08:48:00.000-07:00

Well, I got mine about two weeks ago and have spent my spare minutes reading through it to get myself an opinion. For whatever my opinion is worth, here it is.

I'll admit right up front that I've not had the chance to play the game, and I might be entirely wrong about it, but then again, what's the internet for except for strongly held, mostly baseless opinion sharing anyway?

First impressions: The first thought I had when I pulled the book out of the mailing envelope (immediately after being annoyed with the postal worker who folded the book double in order to fit it in the mailbox despite the words "DO NOT BEND" in bold red lettering on the front, and immediately before the panicked moment of flapping my hands uselessly as I was attacked by half a dozen red ants swarming out of the thing) was "this is just too thick to be "basic."" Weighing in somewhere around 200 pages, this is well beyond what can reasonably be called an introductory book to a game. If anything, it gives the impression that the basic moniker is there simply to hearken back to D&D Basic, shamelessly so.

James was right, this isn't a particularly Old School product, at least not in the sense that Old School has come to be defined by the OSR (or whatever we're calling it nowadays).

Presentation and Physical Stuff: In terms of physical quality, this book earns high marks. The binding is sturdy,as are the cover and the pages themselves. High quality materials throughout and no obvious or glaring printing errors that can be a major drawback to any product.

Speaking of the cover, yes, it's an Erol Otus print, and a damn fine one. Evocative and just slightly comedic. That creature on the front (a variant of the hydra if anybody cares) is just weird enough to catch your attention and make you wonder, and just vicious enough (he's eating the fighter's leg for crying out loud!) to give you a hint about the tone of things within.

The art throughout is quite nice, though not entirely inspiring. It's certainly worlds better than the current "art" plastered all over more "modern" RPG's, that's for sure, but it just doesn't grab me. Don't get me wrong, I like the woodcuttings just as much as the next guy, but it's just not all there yet, and too much of it looks to be recycled from Hackmaster 4th for my tastes.

Other than issues of personal taste, there are no complaints in this department. The book, as a book in itself, is of excellent quality, and even after being folded in half for 18 hours in the mailbox, the entire thing recovered in less than 2 hours and now you'd never be able to tell. This book was obviously built for extended and hard use.

Content: If you didn't care for Hackmaster 4 as a game itself, then you probably won't like Hackmaster Basic (and presumably HMA since it's purported by the authors to be the same thing, except more-so). If you looked at Hackmaster as a source for clipping out interesting rules variations, then you probably won't like Hackmaster Basic very much as the new stuff here won't be of too much use to your AD&D type game: the differences are just too broad for easy portability.

Whereas the original Hackmaster could reasonably be called AD&D with a whole lot of house rules and attitude thrown in, HackMaster basic is a new animal. It's certainly heavily informed by the D&D Basic model: the four classes are, of course, fighter, thief, mage, and cleric and they've got the basic races down to human, elf, dwarf, and halfling, and largely they mean the same things. Mages still cast magic spells, clerics still channel the powers of their deities and often turn or command undead, fighters are really good at hitting things, etc. The rules, however, are not basic as we understood them back then.

Each race in Basic has its own little chart that helps you understand the gist of the rules governing it ranging from attribute modifiers (and there are several, not just the +1/-1 from the days of AD&D) to what talents can be purchased at discounted rates and the number of building points needed to purchase your way into each particular class. One of the greatest advantages to being a demi-human is that you can purchase your way into certain classes for a substantial discount (say, 20 points as opposed to an average 30) and if one follows on with typecasting, demi-humans will certainly excell at certain types of things. Dwarves, for example, make excellent fighters if but for a slightly lower movement rate and a reach penalty, both of which can play significant roles later on. Elves make good wizards, halfings thieves, and humans fall into their jack-of-all-trades role again. Of course, level limits are a thing of the past as, in Dave Kenzer's own words, "research shows that most gamers tend to be frickin' pussies . . ." and the increased cost to enter the class in the first place seems at first glance to help balance that out in the short and middle game. Long term, though, I guess that things would tend to even out on some level.

Attributes are rolled for by the standard 3d6 along with their percentile fractional values (typically used in the original as further gradations between attribute points and as stepping stones between advancing attributes between levels) and seemingly the same here. In terms of a basic game where attribute advancement is left out, I don't see the need for the fractional ability scores. It muddies the waters for those who don't know what's coming up. Though I can see the desire to leave as much from the eventual "final form" of HMA the same as possible rather than following TSR's model of slicing the game into two different lines.

Higher attribute scores are, as in AD&D, important to a character as they govern all sorts of things as how many hit points characters get, how hard they hit in combat, how quickly they can act, etc. Those who don't like a strong reliance on ability scores will not be overtly pleased here I think.

Up until this point, there's little difference between AD&D and HMB in concept. They both follow along the same models. But it's when we get to the nitty gritty of the rules that the paths diverge. In concept, the rules are very simple. In execution, though, I see a whole lot of individual nightmares.

Skills operate on a system very similar to the Aces & Eights model, though they start at 0% for untrained and ascend towards 100% for masters. There are some skills, known appropriately as universal skills, are things that pretty much everybody has some facility with. Things like Hide, Sneak, Climb, etc. fall into this category. Other skills, like animal handling, riding, and academic type skills fall into the category where, without training, you have no real hope of using the skill. You gain and advance skills by spending build points. Not a bad arrangement, though there are still more skills here than I think are helpful and, of course, I'm still a strong believer in the proficiency model of AD&D 2e. Overall, I think this skill system is an improvement over HM4 provided that the skills don't expand into idiocy as the original game's did and provided we don't slather on layers of complication that add little to the satisfactory feeling of the game.

Clerics deserve to be singled out since, it seems, Kenzer & Co. have finally done what so many have wanted before and created a separate class for each deity. A Cleric of the True is not the same as a Cleric of the Harvester, is not the same as a Cleric of the Riftmaster. Great! Except that they still look very similar except for a few paltry, desultory differences. Maybe I'm judging that harshly, though. It's nice to see at least some service paid to the concept.

Combat. Combat is . . . well . . . it follows hot on the heels of the successful model of Aces & Eights. Somebody made the very astute observation that, realistically speaking, combat doesn't happen in nice, orderly rounds, but in real time. So Hackmaster Basic operates on the "count up" system instead. The GM begins combat by calling out each second as it passes (i.e., "1: the orcs start their charge while you stand surprised, 2: they continue to charge . . ."). Once your initiative arrives (the point at which you realize combat has begun and aren't standing there gaping like a landed fish) you are free to act, though each particular action takes a certain amount of time. A long sword, for example, takes 12 seconds to "reset" after its first attack, so unless something happens in between, you can expect to be able to attack once every 12 seconds with your sword.

Movement operates on a separate, parallel track to hacking, so you can, each second, move a distance equal to your walking, jogging, running, or sprinting speed every second independent of what your sword arm is doing at the time. Of course, moving out of melee with a foe, assuming he stands there like an idiot, can lead to a counter "reset" for your weapon, but again, nothing in execution is simple as it is on paper. I suppose that's going to be the calling card of this game, in the end.

Trading blows is accomplished by an, in my opinion, excellent model: opposed rolls adding modifiers, high roll wins. I think that, in basic premise, that's a GREAT way of doing things and I've often pondered what the effect of turning AC into a modifier to a d20 roll would result in at the table. However, in the end, the simple makes way for a host of complications, many in the interest of realism. For example, not carrying a shield gives you a flat -4 to your defense rolls as, of course, these are very important items in medieval combat. Why, you might ask, do you suffer a penalty for not carrying a shield rather than simply get a bonus for using one? Well, that's because there's another complication later on for what happens when your oponent misses you while you're using a shield: you still can suffer damage from this as the book points out because your arm is, after all, right on the other side. There are, as well, different types of dice to roll for defense based on if you are caught unaware, or are helpless, or are being attacked from behind. Initiative dice are the same, a different one for each circumstance, though there is, as in most rules, a standard. Maybe its my pessimism, but I see the standard being excepted too often to be of much use, really. In the end, here, I'm left wondering whether I really want a realistic system as opposed to a comfortably abstracted system that blends into the background and is all but completely invisible at table.

For all that, though, combat itself is explained rather well, including via a nice little comic strip example. It makes me think that, given a little patience and practice, I could GM it successfully and make it fun, which is, in the end, the point of it all. If you're a fan of the comics, it'll make you chuckle and you'll probably appreciate it. If not, you'll probably be a little disheartened that such a bit of crucial info is dumped into a comic book format that you have to slog through.

Despite my overall negative tone above, I do think that the combat system is very interesting and worth a look through even if you don't plan on playing this particular system. It looks like it'll prove to be a gritty, violent, and brutal affair rather than the high fantasy swashbuckling that D&D can often fall prey to. Shields break with alarming regularity, wounds do not heal overnight, and those large pointy objects that were a minor annoyance to AD&D figher characters can be exceptionally dangerous with the risk of penetration and critical hits. Even when armor is absorbing damage, we're still talking big, satisfying numbers here even at first level. A three foot blade in the gullet is about as debilitating in Hackmaster Basic as it would be in real life, and that's a good thing.

Honor remains as yet another fiddly bit. Spellcasting has morphed into a strange, almost Arduinian combination of the Vancian slot system and a spell point system (I heartily encourage you to check out the book if only for that).

The monster selection is quite nice, though sparse considering what fit into the original Baisc books. Something on the order of 75 monsters including several undead like vampires, ghouls/ghasts, and wights. Dragons are conspicuous in their absence, though rumor has it that they are going to make an appearance in one of the KODT issues coming up. Undead no longer drain experience, but ability scores semi-permanently (there's a moderate chance that you can recover, but it's by no means a sure thing as it was in 3.x). Poison is a rather nasty affair, though not always of the save or die variety. All in all, an excellent selection of monsters to start the game with including a few classic Hackmaster creatures like the Sturm Wolf.

There are at least two sections of the book that I see as superfluous and as taking up more space than they are entitled to. First, there's a "Quick Start" characters section that you can download on the Kenzer & Co. website for free now to look over as a PDF. In my view, this is a basic game and it sure as hell shouldn't need a quick start setup. If anything, they should have included four or so pre-generated characters for that purpose rather than taking up half a dozen pages with marginally useful information.

The second was the dice rolling section. Yes, it's well written and very fun to read, and a lot of it needed to be said as so much "dice ettiquate" has been forgotten and ignored over the years, but really, it's too big for what it is and it should have been dropped in favor of streamlining the rest of the book, or for at least adding more monsters.

Overall: Despite my general negative tone above, I do think that Hackmaster Basic is an excellent looking game based on a read through and no practical experience with it. It garners 4 out of 5 stars from my questionable perspective, loosing points only because it's not really basic at all and the amount of fiddelyness is too much for my taste. It's apparant that Kenzer & Co's definition of Old School is significantly different than Matt Finche's.

Buy it if you enjoy reading a well written game that has a good sense of humor about itself and the entire hobby, but is much toned down since the last PHB.

Buy it if you love Hackmaster in general and would buy just about anything Kenzer published on principle.

Don't buy it if you're looking for an old school experience as it's defined currently by the Old School Revolution.

Don't buy it if you're looking for a basic, simple, and quickly grasped game.

A Note on Hackmaster and Kalamar: It should be noted that Hackmaster Basic is the first new product in the line that will specifically support the Kingdoms of Kalamar setting. As noted above, the Cleric class has been specifically subdivided into a unique class for each of Kalamar's many deities, though only a few make an appearance in Basic.

This connection is definately noticable, but hardly so overt that one couldn't adapt the game to another setting with relative ease.

Spellcasting in Thylia: Modifications to the Vancian System

2009-06-18T10:36:00.000-07:00

This is the biggest house rule I will ever implement, or at least the one that causes the most significant change in how the game functions. Just to come right out and say this up front, this modification to the casting system did not originate with me. The game I currently play in (for the last 5 or so years actually) put this into effect and, after 5 years, I can't really imagine playing without it. Whether that's because the rule really is that excellent of a change, or because internally, I was never satisfied with the whole Vancian thing to begin with is something open to debate. Either way, it makes for an interesting modification in my opinion.

First, wizards do not gain new spells upon leveling per the rules. The only way for a wizard to gain new spells is to discover them in "the dungeon" or to trade for or steal them from others. This makes arcane magic, at least, that much more difficult to get hold of so that the players aren't pulling magic our of their orificies at every instant.

Magic is rare and mages are jealous of each other's abilities. This is to counteract some of the change below.

Casting still functions largely as detailed in the PHB. Wizards have a certain number of spell slots per day per level based on their current character level and any specialization they pursue (i.e., a transmuter gets an extra spell slot per level that must be devoted to an alteration spell). However, wizards can, with a percent chance of failure based on their intelligence and the level of the spell, attempt to "wing it" when casting spells. That means that they can forgoe memorizing a spell (or all spells for very intelligent and powerful wizards) in order to enhance their potential versatility. Unfortunately, this comes with a good chance of failing to successfully cast their spells.

Mages can still memorize their spells, and in fact, doing so greatly reduces the percent chance of failure.

For example:

A wizard with INT 15 has a base 65% chance to fail casting a 1st level spell while winging it. A 2nd level spell fails 70% of the time, 3rd 75% and so on. This means that our example wizard will fail 75% of the time while trying to cast a 3rd level spell without prior memorization.

If, however, the wizard in question chooses to memorize his spell in the morning, he reduces his chance for failure by 100%, thus in our example, the 3rd level spell is cast with a -25% chance of failure.

This, in actual play, does increase the utility of a wizard, but at the same time can make him somewhat unreliable. I can't tell you how many times I've heard "it's only a 10% chance of failure" right before a critical spell fizzles because the player wanted to leave the slot open "just in case."

It also has a very nice side benefit: players of wizards end up casting more of their spell selection (i.e., instead of just memorizing the same few over and over again) and there's fewer instances of "ok, we need this or that spell, but the wizard has to rest 8 hours before we can proceed, so everybody break out the bedrolls!"

A few other things to add into the pot:

For a specialist caster (transmuter, necromancer, etc), the caster receives a -10%/+10% failure chance based on whether the spell is in or out of their specialty school.

When leveling up, for every 5 successful times a spell is cast, the charcter gains a -5% chance to fail that particular spell.

At first level, and upon ataining further levels, the character gains 200% discretionary percentage points with which he can reduce any spell's failure chance, or he can hold them in reserve in anticipation of gaining new spells over the next level.

If, upon attempting to learn a new spell, the player fails the roll to learn, he can still scribe it to his book and cast it, but it suffers a +50% chance of failure. This can, and often does, raise the failure chance to above 100% making even memorized casting dodgy.

And one final bit:

A mage must still spend time every day reviewing and studying his spells. If his book is stolen or he has no access to it, he suffers an increased 5% failure chance per day without the book.

It looks a little confusing at first blush (and if I knew how to make this blog thing make tables, it'd be a might clearer) and it certainly does add a lot of book keeping to playing a wizard character or a bard (who follow the same rules, but keyed off of the average INT ahd CHA), but I find that the whole thing is definately worth it.

I like the falvor of it for Thylia, and since spells are rare, spell books cost 1000gp each, and the ink to scribe a spell costs 10gp per page written (not to mention 1 day per page/level of the spell), it's really a fair trade in my book.

Of course, I wouldn't try to port this over to Forgotten Realms or Greyhawk since I don't think it'd fit terribly well there, but in a grim and gritty setting where things are falling apart all over, it sort of fits.

A Discussion: The Commodification of Fun

2009-06-17T11:24:00.001-07:00

This is meant to be the introduction to a discussion. It's hardly original, I guess, as James Mal over at Grognardia has talked about this before (he called it "brandification" if I recall and I'm a little too lazy to go digging through his prolific writings to find the exact articles while I'm supposed to be earning a paycheck) and James Raggi over at LotFP has his truly infamous I Hate Fun article that links in here, and I'm sorry if I missed others as I know it's been a topic of discussion around here for a long time.

I suppose that this concept is at its most prominent in the WOTC advertisement and talking points about their new 4th edition, though as far as I can tell it's been somewhat pulled back lately, but it was very prominent with 3rd edition and 2nd edition as well. The powers that be at TSR and then at WOTC realized that selling modules to 1 out of 7 gamers (or, lets be generous and say 1 out of 4) just wasn't a good way to "grow the brand" and make money hand over fist. If only 25% of your targeted audience was going to be shelling out cash for your product, then you were essentially doomed to a niche of the niche market that is gaming. Not only that, modules have somewhat limited replay value: once you've played through The Tomb of Horrors once you won't be too surprised by the sphere of anihilation in the devil face.

The solution? Well, the solution for TSR/WOTC was two-fold. First, and most famously, was to publish books aimed not just at the DM, but at every player at the table. "Holy shit a complete book about elves with two hundred pages of elf specific mechanics and material?! I have to get one of those!" I don't, honestly, have a problem with this. Whatever your opinion of the quality of the material, I don't think anybody would begrudge the publishers the desire to sell something to more than just the DM. Not only that, it's this, I would argue, that kept D&D alive for some time and propelled it to being even more acceptable today than ever before even to the point of a prime time commercial advertising D&D.

Second, and this is where I take umbrage, there arose a trend towards "official" materials for games. Official expansions to already existing worlds, the thing that utterly destroyed Forgotten Realms, almost in a literal sense as WOTC had to rain down an apocalypse on the setting in order to divorce itself from what had come before. Official expanded rules, officialy sanctioned methodology, and on and on until the coup de grace came when it seemed that WOTC attempted to convince us to buy official fun by convincing us that previous versions of the game were truly "unfun" (a word I have grown to absolutely despise over the years).

Lest I paint myself into a rhetorical corner here, I'm going to say now that I don't think that this is a phenomenon unique to those money grubbing bastards at T$R or the Coastal Wizards. If anything, it started with the Gary himself. I remember a Sage Advice column (I think it was Sage Advice at least) where he responded to a letter about alternate rules or house rules or something saying that anybody who wasn't playing AD&D according to the letter of the rules set down in the three core books simply wasn't playing the same game. Somebody, I'm sure, will remind me of the exact verbiage at some point. What I remember most about the whole thing was thinking what a pompous jackass the man was and if this guy was really the same one who had written about taking the rules and making them your own.

I suppose, in retrospect, that I understand what he was getting at in less than politic language, and even agree with him to a certain point, but it sparked a moment of worry that here was the creator of the game engaging in delineating the difference between official D&D/AD&D and "that other stuff" and going so far as to say that alternate rules not printed by him fell into the later category. In a strange sort of way, I think that Gary spelled his own doom at TSR in that way.

So now comes the question. Has D&D, the enjoyment of that game . . . has "fun" . . . become commodified? Become dependent to a greater or lesser extent upon continued purchasing of official published material? Is it to the detriment or benefit of the game at large? Where do these lines get drawn?

My inclination is to say that, in regards to the current incarnation of the "official" D&D game (i.e., fourth edition), the answer is yes most assuredly. More strongly so because WOTC's "expanded core" concept. It was just as true in 3.x when, in order to accord with whatever character concept somebody had, new material was continualy published to further refine and define these concepts to the point where a knight and a samurai weren't just variations of fighters, but were unique and individualized classes and, in the case of the samurai, several unique classes.

Is it a benifit or a detriment? This I don't have a real answer for. On the one hand, I will decry the vast majority of the schlock published over the last several years by WOTC as exactly what it is: bird cage liner. However, at the same time, I seriously doubt that D&D would have survived today in a continually published form if not for the books we today call crap and the money grubbing bastards that distribute them in expansion pack games.

Or am I just a lunatic?

Your thoughts?

The Best Mysteries Are The Ones Never Solved

2009-06-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

One of the better dungeons - in terms of map, context, and content - is in DL8, Dragons of Despair, about midway through the much maligned DL series of modules. Of course, the plot that runs through this particular installment of the DragonLance modules is as horrific as any of the others, but the maps of the High Clerist's Tower illustrate again that, at least some of the time, the locations of these modules are worth pulling out and using even if you loathe and despise the plot hammer hanging over your head. The tower is big, convoluted, full of little traps and, if actively defended by an organized military force, an absolute terror to an invading party.

But that particular dungeon is not what this post is really about, at least not primarily.

Earlier today, I was chatting with a fellow in the office about DL8 and the High Clerist's Tower and how it was a great set of maps when he made the comment that (paraphrasing) "it's a shame because out of the context of the module, no players will figure out the mystery about the dragon traps on the lower level." My response (exact wording) was "so?".

Sometimes, there are mysterious things in dungeons, or in worlds, that may have nothing at all to do with what's going on, but they attract interest all the same. A great joy of mine as a DM would be having the players walk into the High Clerist's Tower and spend time and effort trying to figure out the nature of the dragon trap rooms, whether or not it actually mattered in the context I was using the dungeon. It gets them engaged in the goings on in the universe on a level greater and deeper than looking for the next ambulatory XP baloon to bust. It gives me an opportunity, even if there really is no mystery at all and that oddly shaped room at the end of the corridor is nothing but an oddly shaped room, to throw in some of the background material that I've put together by this time. "You've heard of Kethric the Mad, High Architect to Emporor Kabori, and that he used to build strangely shaped structures that were rumored to obey eldritch and arcane lines of force . . ." It might not have anything at all to do with Kethric, but if I wanted to add that story of the architect in, this is the perfect time to do it, a time when the players are more apt to actually listen to it and retain it for when Kethric becomes much more important somewhere else.

I think a great way to get the players to sit up and pay attention now and then, especially if their attention is starting to wander, is to throw in something wierd or strange: some fixture of the dungeon or a sound or a nameless monument that just begs for investigation, but is, in the end, nothing at all.

Of course, it could all go wrong and you could end up coaxing your players into spending three hours of valuable game time poring over a nothing, but players tend to do that anyway.

Some possibilities:

A standing stone at the approximate center of a meadow. Any dwarf or other stone crafty individual can tell that it is of a type of stone not found in this region for a hundred miles or more; it was obviously moved purposefully to this location long ago.

Deep within a labarythine dungeon, an imposing statue of a minotaur or other humanoidsh being points dramatically in a random direction, perhaps at a wall, or back down the corridor the PC's just entered by.

Every twenty feet or so, the color of the flooring of the corridor or room changes from a typical matte grey to a shiny ebony. No readily discernable pattern is evident, but who knows what can be discovered with an extended survey?

A large rectangular room with two foot square tiles arranged in a pattern as a chessboard.

As above, except tiles are set poorly in sand so that when one is stepped on it depresses while others around it rise up. (gleefully stolen from Kenzer's version of B2)

A gurgling sound, remeniscent of a bubbling stream or other running water is heard periodically. No such water source can be discovered with cursory exploration.

Falling In Love With Swords and Wizardry

2009-06-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

I splurged recently and picked up copies of Knockspell #1 and #2, Swords and Wizardry, and the S&W monster book. Of course, I had my downloaded copy of the rules beforehand and had gone through them more than once, but in seeing it all out on paper, I feel inspired by it. I'm beginning to see Thylia more and more in the light of Swords and Wizardry and am rapidly coming to a point where I'll use it instead of AD&D 2e if and when Thylia becomes an actual game.

Now all I have to do is find a group of gamers.

And some free time.

Supplements and Sorcery

2009-06-05T12:38:00.001-07:00

James over at Grognardia talks about there being, perhaps, too many supplements coming out now from the Old School and the possible negative effects of this. Specifically, that the market - such as it is - will be "flooded with a glut of product" that will only be read, never used in play.

Of course, he's right. Coming from the 2nd edition background that I do, I can't ever forget some of the worst symptoms of a dying TSR. Hell, no matter how hard I try, I can never forget about elfish prosthetic limbs, nor rangers that turn into trees and grow third arms out of their chests, or any of a hundred really bad ideas enshrined as "options" in the Complete Handbook series of supplements. Of course, this bred the most despicable attitude I can think of in D&D: that of player entitlement - the thought that if the player wants something, he should be allowed to have it and that the DM is nothing more than a rules reciter and wish fulfiller. Maybe that's a little extreme, but not overly in my experience.

There's a great deal of good that can be said for a game that can be played entirely out of one book. That's what made Gamma World 1e and 2e so fabulous. Not to mention the Rules Cyclopedia (maybe that one's cheating since it's half a dozen books under one binding, but still). That's what makes Swords and Wizardry and Labyrinth Lord so great. One book, some dice, some friends, and a lot of imagination. No official supplements, add ins, or do-majiggers.

But then again, there's a problem with it too. If your game only has one book and no continuing publications (a magazine, some modules, a supplement here and there), then like it or not, true or not, a good portion of the fan base is going to look at it and call it a dead system and walk away. Except for Fight On! magazine (if you even know about it), Labyrinth Lord is pretty much a single product with nothing new on the horizon. Why would I pick it up now wen there's just oodles of stuff coming out of every quarter supporting Swords and Wizardry? Hell, as James himself said, there's practically a metric buttload of stuff I can use to fiddle with and slap a great game together, or ignore entirely if I want, but the community around that game is live and vibrant as evidenced by the published material. Labyrinth Lord looks, at first blush, to be a little dead on the vine.

Don't get me wrong, I really like LL and have a copy next to my chair for nightly perusal along with a whole passel of other gaming books. It's just that I'd like to see a Labyrinth Lord companion or something like that hit the shelves. I know, I know, shut up and or put up.

The horrific glut of supplements over the course of 2nd edition did one thing really really well. It imagined the shit out of AD&D. Hundreds of ideas just thrown at the wall to see what would stick. Every time somebody had a brain fart that read along the lines of "wouldn't it be cool if . . .", it ended up in a book that sold for $20 each to thousands. Yeah, maybe the dross to gems ratio was a little out of rational whack, but one must admit that amidst all the bunk, there were some pretty damn cool ideas out there! And the great thing is, no two people will ever agree on just what was cool and what was crap!

Take it to the current day. We've got little digest supplements and adventures and everybody's little brain farts being thrown into print via the internet or Lulu or whatever format for OSRIC and Swords and Wizardry and whatever other system clone is out there and there's a real hunger to see more, to put money into the hands of the creators. That's nothing but a good thing in my book, even if you find that 50%, or even 90%, of it is junk. You don't have to use the junk. You don't even have to use the gems. It just warms the subcockle region of my heart to actually be excited over some of these things again.

The Old School is viable again, and it's because people are throwing their ideas on paper and throwing it against the wall to see what sticks. It gives me real hope that one day, I'll be walking through a book store or, better yet, a toy store and see one of these books on the shelf for sale and a kid begging his mother for the $15 to buy it.

Screw purity. Screw the fear that piles and piles of junk might obscure the great tidbits. Put it out there and imagine the hell out of D&D again.

Polyglotism

2009-06-04T09:34:00.000-07:00

Language is difficult to learn. Not just those weird, foreign languages, but even our native language. Hell, I've been speaking, writing, and reading the English language for near 28 years now, and I still haven't got it down 100%. None of us has. That's why it bothers me that adventurers in many FRPG's seem to be flawless polyglots, able to speak a number of languages without difficulty that would give even the most skilled linguists today pause. Worse yet, literacy seems to be nigh universal in those intelligent enough to learn it in the first place (or, for that matter, in games who even make a distinction between them).

That's yet another reason that I like 2nd edition non-weapon proficiencies. They offer me, as the DM, to limit the polyglot issue. Learning to speak a language takes up a full slot. Learning to read/write said language take an additional slot. That's a slot taken away from other things, like fire starting, mountaineering, riding, etc. So, yes, you can create a character who knows twelve dialects of elfese, but you're going to have to devote a great deal of study to it.

Of course, that doesn't even approach my general dissatisfaction with the whole "common" language idea, or alignment tongues, but that's another issue.

Lost Technology in Thylia

2009-05-27T08:10:00.000-07:00

Just recently, I managed to get my greedy claws on a first edition, first printing of GRRM's Tuff Voyaging for cheap from the local book depository. I think that the fact that it's a first printing, first edition, and that I bought it for a steal (less than I'd pay for a "Value Meal" at the local fast food joint) excites me more than the actual content of the book at this point, but I'm a bibliophile, it's to be expected. Which is not to say the book isn't good so far as of page 17.

I will say, though, that based on my admitted complete guess as to what this "Plague Star" is, I'm very happy. Based on what is said in the text thus far, and what is not said, I'm guessing that the thing is actually some lost bit of ancient phlebotinum from "the old times" and it has some biological effect on organisms exposed to it. Likely some form of experiment by less than scrupulous precursers or some such.

Just a quick aside and fair warning: anybody who feels the need to explain to me outright what the thing is and spoil the rest of the book for me can just bugger the hell right off. I'm looking forward to being surprised as GRRM usually does not let me down that way.

Ok, back on topic.

What I find more interesting, though, is that the locals of the planet around which this Plague Star orbit have worked its existance into their mythology over the, presumable, millenia that it has affected them. It's far less a matter of "Hey, what's that medieval peasant doing with a ray gun?!?!" and rather a reaction that seemed popular back in the day this book was written, that myth, legend, and religion grew out of sentient need to explain the perceived, but the incomprehensible. Thus, the natives perceive the Plague Star, and the fact that it wipes out large segments of the population every three generations, but have no way at all of determining objectively what it is (i.e., no telescopes or anything like that) and so it gets labeled and added to the mythology rather than dealt with in a "scientific" manner.

This is, I suppose, Martin's employment of one of Clarke's laws, that any technology sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from magic. This, I think, is how ancient technology should be introduced into a fantasy campaign that eschews the gonzo aspect. In the end, I have no problem with high technology making its way into the Thylia campaign, but my desire is for the players to brush up against it and, afterward, to never be quite sure what it was that they came across: a mystery that they either walk away with shaking their heads, or which drives them to continue on, seeking the root of it.

The Dotheric Obelisk

Discovered in the deep taiga, only a few hours' march from the tiny halfling settlement of Dotheris, the obelisk stands nearly 7 meters tall in the center of an inconspicuously verdent glade. The monument has runes in a strange language round the base, runes that defy both mundane and magical means of translation. Many believe that these runes contain secrets from the ancient past when a race with power far beyond the comprehension of current scholars walked the world. This group calls themselves the Dotheric Brotherhood and they have devoted themselves to the study of the obelisk, sure that other examples of the writing or instructions on how to harness its powers must exist. They pursue any scrap of information that might lead to great understanding of the monument, funding quests to unearth other treasures of the age, and even going so far as to employing an entire clan of dwarves to excavate around the base of the monument, looking to catalog its whole dimensions.

The Brotherhood, to some degree, is correct. The obelisk is, in fact, an artifact left behind by a race that came to this world millenia ago, and left mysteriously sometime before recorded history began according to modern scholars. The thing is a device designed to transfer heat energy and water from deep within the planet and bring them to the surface, terraforming the world to more closely resemble the one from which the ancient beings originated. The runes scribed in its side defy translation attempts simply because they are not actually language, but mathematical equations and data that provides activation protocols to the obelisk. The obelisk radiates no magic and is slightly warm to the touch. If activated, it may prove powerful enough to remake this part of the world, or after many thousands of years, it may have malfunctioned or broken down.

Death Jewel

A small blood red gem in an ornate mithril like setting appearing almost as a fine lace netting surrounding envoloping the crystal, all together about the size of a song bird's egg. Legend states that it was originally discovered by Geforic, a trickster hero figure in legend, in the skeletal remains of a humanoid, but not human in the depths of a ruin. In order to keep it safe from the scurrilous thieves of the city (which city is hotly debated, many maintain that it was one of various legendary lost metropolises), he swallowed it, intending to retrieve the precious item "afterward." Unfortunately for him, upon arriving within the city gates, the citizenry began to fall victim to an horrific plague by the hundreds, never manifesting in quite the same way twice. Geforic fled the city while he could, but ill fortune caught up with him as a representative of the local thieves' guild, having witnessed Geforic swallow the Death Jewel, slew the man and claimed his prize. Since, the stone has appeared throughout history in stories, usually accompanied by the utter destruction of a city, or the death of an empire. It is considered a vastly unlucky artifact and no reputable man will willingly let it near him.

In actuality, the item is a bit of high technology from an unknown source. When swallowed, it affixes itself to the person's digestive tract and remains there until death. While so implanted, it provides complete immunity to disease, poisoning, parasite, or similar effect (including rot grubs and violet fungus). It provides this benefit by changing the person's immune system from a reactive, internal process to an active, external, and predatory thing. White blood cells and other immunological organisms travel outside of the body to a radius of 50ft where they actively seek out any potential threat to the host body and eliminate it. Air born plagues, aforementioned rot grubs and violet fungus, green slimes, etc., will be destroyed at the rate of 1hp per round. Unfortunately, the effect also attacks any living organism that is currently infected by or is a carrier for any harmful pathogen and all such entities must succeed in a saving throw vs. disease or be found to have such an infection and become subject to the attack of the host body's external immune system, dying slowly at the rate of 1hp per day and unable to heal naturally. A cure disease spell placed upon such a victim will remove all traces of the disease and thus halt the attack of the immune system and spare the person's life.

Once swallowed and implanted, the device cannot be removed except by the death of the host, or by advanced surgicle techniques not present in Thylia today.

Two Shield Rules

2009-05-19T10:21:00.001-07:00

According to that AD&D rules (and the BECMI and 0D&D rules for that matter if I recall correctly), shields provide a flat +1 bonus to AC (or, -1 if you want to get technical). The only difference between shield sizes is in the size and weight of the thing, and how many attacks per round it can defend against. This is all fine and good, but I find that, in the end, it adds a level of monintoring and book keeping that drag out what would otherwise be an exciting combat: how many attacks has Bob's fighter faced this round?, and do multiple attacks from a single create (a claw/claw/bite say) count as one attack, or three? and so on. In the end, it seems to get in the way of the goal of fast and clear combat rounds and ends up dragging things out.

In that light, I propose the following two possible rules.

Option The First: Ignore the different shield sizes. There's only one shield size and it weighs X number of pounds and provides only a +1 bonus to AC. Period. It's a level of abstraction I'm willing to accept in the quest for simplex resolution even if it does bring up interesting questions about why a shield built by a halfling would be the same weight as one built by an ogre, and why a halfling wielding an ogre's shield would only receive a +1 bonus rather than benefiting from the much larger proportional coverage, but in the spirit of the rule, I can simply ignore those issues and forge on with getting to what's more interesting, the adventuring.

Option The Second: Various sized shields provide various degrees of defense:

*A small shield weighs in at 5 pounds and provides a +1 bonus to AC.
*A medium shield weighs in at 10 pounds and provides a +2 bonus to AC.
*A large/body shield weighs 15 pounds and provides a +3 bonus to AC with no special rules attached to it.

This provides a reason why somebody would carry another sized shield other than weight and eliminates the need for tracking how many attacks have been made against a particular character (or, heaven forbid, which of the 25 goblins each with his own shield has faced one attack, two, three, or four in a given round). It also, as I see it, makes carrying a shield even more desirable and the tradeoff between carrying a two-handed weapon at the cost of a single point of AC a little more interesting: do you carry that two handed sword and go through enemies like a farmer mowing wheat, or do you pick up a long sword and a large shield for that added defense?

Truth be told, I much prefer the second option. It adds just a bit of complication to the rules and strips out at the same time a needlesly complicated bit of ruling that slows things down when they need most to move quickly.

The Meanderings of My Brain

2009-05-19T09:48:00.001-07:00

Over the last few weeks, in between moments of pure terror and wondering if I'll have a job in the next 3 months (yay economic troubles), I've had a few ideas rolling around in my head for campaigns/games other than Thylia.

1. Kingdoms of Kalamar: I long ago fell absolutely in love with this setting. To me, it's the crystalization of a middle school style campaign world. Loose and free feeling, but with plenty of threads to pick up if the DM likes them. I can't read a single page of the CS book without getting ideas for half a dozen nights gaming and long, drawn out campaigns. Very political as written, but certainly room for pure adventure style games as well. I'll also mention that I'm a tremendous fan of their pantheon of gods.

2. Alternity Dark Matter Secret Eugenics War: The concept has been rattling about in my brain for a while now, about a covert war fought by genetically enhanced humans to take control of the planet and the shadowy cabals either aiding or opposing them for their onw reasons. Yeah, it's a little Star Trek, but I think I can make it fun.

3. AD&D Ravenloft: Not actually set in the Ravenloft Campaign Setting, but a horror type campaign that makes use of some of the elements there to create a dark and terrifying campaign focusing on the horrifying aspects of the D&D game.

4. AD&D or Alternity American Gods: No, not a total rehash of the book, but the same concepts from the book ported over into a new thing. The idea of gods needing worship lest they face a slow diminution and eventual extinction in ignorance is appealing.

5. FRPG version Time War: Based off of a mishmash of the Chornomancy supplement from 2nd edition and Doctor Who, the concept is of a massive and far reaching time war taking place which the characters discover and either become embroiled in, or simply survive. I'd need to work out how time travel would work in the world, but I think it would be entertaining.

Now, if only I could organize my thoughts enough on Thylia to get together a decent post on it again.

Recurring Themes of Thylia

2009-05-11T09:50:00.000-07:00

Life has been rather tumultuous for the last couple weeks and, through a combination of my company "right sizing" the division and various family drama, I've discovered I have less and less time for such leisure activities as posting to this blog and sleeping.

In order to demonstrate to the, perhaps, five people who actually still read this blog that I'm still alive and so is this outlet for my psychotic ramblings, I present the following semi-non-post for your bemusement.

Themes in Thylia
An overarching plot should never be a part of an FRPG adventure or, even worse, an entire campaign.* It more often than not turns the game into a witness event for the players and an exercise in mental self massage for the ref. Such things lead to the likes of adventure paths.

However, I'm not against dropping themes into a campaign: recurrent ideas and concepts, or just images that crop up time and again in seemingly disconnected locations. Such would be a natural side effect, I suppose, of any long standing game of any sort that's largely constructed around the mind of a single individual (such as a DM or whatever we're calling it today). Themes can be as simple as recurring NPC's: for example, a friend of mine uses a recurring, suspiciously adept NPC named Timmy in almost every game he runs. They can be concious or unconcious, dramatic or comedic, or just about anything that becomes a recurrent element of a game.

Of course, when it's done with concious decision, it can be badly mishandled and turn into a tromping boot that lands squarely in the middle of everything which the players are then obliged to deal with directly, or politely ignore. Tracy Hickman's moderately infantile understanding of good and evil in Dragonlance spring to mind as does virtually the entirety of Eberron's setting (though that setting occupies a moderately fuzzy place in my heart for some unknowable reason). Monte Cook once said that a recurrent theme for his campaigns was always an impossibly tall spire, at the top of which rested something so predicatble that his players immediately knew upon sighting it that it was going to become a major plot element in the game in relatively short order: of course this is both good and bad as its various incarnations that I know of aren't really that terrible and are used somewhat artfully to act as centerpieces rather than gigantic overriding plot devices.

Despite the massive potential for catastrophic failure, I plan to incorporate some themology into Thylia when, and if, it gets off the ground as an actual game (closer than one might suspect as I actually have a preliminary map slopped together that I'm pleased with but for the terrible attempt to add color that pretty much destroyed it).

May You Live In Interesting Times The first part of a tripartite curse, and in our real lives is truly a terrifying thought, but in a game world is, in my opinion, the only way to fly. I will not ever pretend that Thylia is a living, thriving, and vibrant world, but I will say that, in terms of the anticiparted starting area, things are happening with or without the participation of the players and the general fabric of the region will change significantly from time to time due to world events, especially if the players spend effort ignoring them. Much of the time, if the players start to pick up on it, I expect them to expend a good deal of effort simply maintaining the status quo rather than affecting grand events. If the game lasts until advanced levels, the PC's may find themselves taking up the leadership of local baronies in order to "plug the gaps" so to speak and form a shield against things that are coming.

May You Find What You Are Looking For Sort of a version of "be careful what you wish for . . ." I greatly like the idea of players chasing down things they think they want (treasure, magic, power, etc.) and actually finding it, and learning that there are a whole host of attendant problems that go right along with it. My major inspiration here is, of course, the horde of Fafnir.

Through a Glass Darkly . . . Fantasy (and by extension, speculative fiction in general) is, to me, the act of holding a tinted mirror up to the real world. My particular mirror is dirty, dark, and makes things look dark, ugly, and thratening. Yes, Timmmy, the world is out to get you.

There Is No Destiny Heroes are not born, prophesied, or created. Heroes are those who are willing to walk into the dark places where others dare not tread. Heroes stand between the metaphorical fall of Night and the light of Civilization and say "you shall do no harm here." Whatever their motives, heroes are the ones who get it done, not the ones who come branded with a fancy title.

With the WOTC versions of D&D taking primacy in the FRGP market, the concept of a campaign has morphed from something that never really ends to a literal 12 month start to finish affair with, supposedly, identifiable beginnings, middles, and ends. They are stories and not adventures any more.

Inherently Evil

2009-04-28T12:53:00.000-07:00

The morality system of Dungeons and Dragons (in most of its incarnations) has been the source of lively debate since . . . well . . . pretty much ever. Put ten gamers into a room together and you'll have ten different views on how the alignment system "should be" interpreted, which version of the alignment system is "best," whether or not Gary Gygax was, indeed, taking controlled substances when he thought that this would be a good idea for a game, and at least three black eyes. Many, if not most, blogs even peripherally about D&D have long series of articles discussing the "true nature of alignment" and how it works and such a discussion has even made it over to the pop-culture repository of "knowledge" called TVTropes.org. It is, in my opinion, one of the best articles about the D&D style alignment system ever. A great many gamers decry the whole exercise and call it a straight jacket or some bizarre, ill-conceived attempt to shoe-horn a morality system into the game that wasn't needed.

The topic has gotten some play within the blog sphere: here and here for instance.

Whatever side of this discussion you fall on isn't important here, and I'm not going to weigh in entirely about it. The truth of the matter, though, is that it (the alignment system and its attendant assumptions) tend to pose some difficult questions for modern gamers, especially considering modern ethical and moral sensibilities. Specifically, the concept of an "always chaotic evil" or even "often evil" type monsters. Orcs, goblins, hobgoblins (my personal favorite humanoid), kobolds, and etc. were, if I recall the history of the game correctly) designed specifically as a a sequence of incrementally more powerful targets for the PC's to kill and loot without attendant guilt complexes. They were, in short, evil races and could be slaughtered with aplomb. Of course, no plan or mechanic, however ingenius, survives contact with gamers.

The concept of an entire race or species (and I've honestly been confused as to whether we're to consider the various non-human sentients in the game a species or a race, or if there's a difference in the first place) as being objectively inferior and identifiably and demonstrably inherently evil is one that truly grates against modern sensibilities. After all, such excuses have been used in our own world to justify some of the most horrific acts in history and it's natural that those of us raised in this world would be recoil from such a thought. Or course, that didn't stop many of us from assuming that anything in the game with a written XP total was there for us to kill and acting accordingly. According to Dave Kenzer himself, the humanoids in the new edition of Hackmaster are going to hearken back to this understanding, that they are all evil and the players have a right if not duty to slaughter them wholesale and further, that upon reading the descriptions of said monsters in the Hacklopedias (their version of the Monster Manual) that you'll actually want to.

One of the natural responses to the quandry is to create a rational for why such and such a race is evil. Orcs, for example, might be magically created things little more than self-replicating automata. A disease, almost, on the land. James over at Grognardia has reportedly taken this angle with his Dwimmermount campaign (linked above, see the comments) where orcs at least are the result of genetic tinkering by one of the precursor races that bestrode the world like giants in the long dark history of the world. This angle is great for Dwimmermount since blaming one of the older races who are already a part of the campaign for the horrific humanoids rampaging through the world and preying upon the innocent does not multiply entities at all. In fact, orcs in Thylia share a similar niche, though I feel with a particularly dark twist.

Of course, the LOTFP article linked above takes a different tack, playing with the uncertainty of players and characters as to what place in the metaphysical and moral place in the world humanoids occupy. The suggestions to play up this uncertainty is delightfully evil in and of itself and I plan on having child goblins and kobolds around to trip up the players' certainties.

I've never really had a problem with a race of beings being evil. It just doesn't bother me on the same level as it does others, I suppose seeing as I don't view "Good" as objectively superior in any way within the context of the game. Of course, within the game itself, "Good and Evil" are semantically loaded terms anyway as they both seem to coincide with, respectivly, what our modern society considers morally laudable and morally reprehensible, but I consider that to be terms of semantic limits: sometimes you just can't escape using a word that has strong associative meanings. However, within the context of the game world, good and evil are neither superior nor inferior in any way, they just are.

This isn't moral relativism, because evil is still evil, if that made any sense.

Why Can't We Have A Decent Fantasy Show Part Duex

2009-04-24T07:01:00.000-07:00

Earlier, I lamented the fact that our latest concesion to fantasy entertainment was Krod Mandoon and afterword, I felt that I'd given the show short shrift. After all, I'd only ever seen one or two episodes (hard to tell whether that premier was two episodes pasted together, or if it was actually a double length episode). It's bound to get better right?

So I decided that the least I could do was give it another shot and see if it wasn't worth following. So, I watched last night's episode hoping for something to move beyond what the pilot had given us, and I'm impressed to say that it succeeded in going well beyond what it was, just in the wrong direction. Such stunning lines as the "mage" talking about his companions "little brown starfish" really set the tone early on as the "plot" was a thinly veiled excuse for an extended encounter with a so called "bi-clops" (a pansexual cyclops that is) and the entire episode devolved into a running series of sex jokes about Aneka and her . . . ahem . . . experience culminating in her riding off with the rival love interest carting a 2 quart gourd full of lube.

I will say, though, that Dongalore's little side trek to "rescue" the woman he had abducted only a few days earlier out of love was relatively good in comparison.

This all makes me uneasy about the upcoming (hopefully by Christmas) A Game of Thrones television series produced by HBO who did a marvelous job with Rome. Hell, if this series can do for fantasy literature what Rome did for, well, Rome, then I at least will be very happy. I worry, though, that this will end up junked and destroyed by the fact that it's an unpopular genre that seems to play better as parody than straight.

All that, and judging by what HBO did to True Blood, a by all accounts decent novel series, it's possible and even likely that this might turn into plot with porn. Or, for the less charitable than me, porn with plot.

One good rumor about the whole project, though, is that Peter Dinklage is the most likely to play Tyrion Lannister, which is a good thing.

One can only hope.

The Whacky and Wierd VS. the Familiar and the Pseudo-Real

2009-04-22T08:22:00.000-07:00

There's something to be said for the wierd. Thool is a very cool place, what with a seeming dearth of the ordinary and an overabundance of "just plain wierd shit." Scott has managed to create a world that is new enough and strange enough to our modern way of thinking, and our way of perceiving even simple daily tasks, that he's emphasized the acts of exploration and discovery as ends in and of themselves. The players will spend, likely, as much time learning about the world around them as they do rooting through ancient dungeons to their greedy, shivled hearts' content. And that's a great thing.

Hargrave's Arduin - actually, technically speaking, it's The World of Khaas and I recommend that book to, well, everybody - is, in my estimation, the poster child of the whacky, wierd, and zany campaign worlds. As far as I can tell, it's just about the only place where anthropoid insects, weasels, and panda are standard player races. Not to mention Saurig (aka, lizard men), Kobbits (half kobold, half hobbit, with wings), and Throon (near giant sized four armed humanoids that are dumber than a box of rocks and especially fond of pumpkin). Then there's Rune Weavers, Star Powered Mages, and Techno's (the guys that get to play around with high technology while their buddies carry around sharpened sticks). And, of course, we can't forget that some of the most famous games of Arduin included elements adapted from (i.e. stolen en toto) popular sources including Jedi and Storm Troopers. It all merged together in a kind of pleasant and goofy mish-mash as a thing in and of itself. Once there, you wouldn't question why your 5th level Fighter is scrambling for cover from the orc mortar squadron freshly timewarped from an alternate WWII somewhere in the vast and strange multi-verse.

Of course, one can't let Mutant Future or Gamma World go by without mention either. Science Fantasy at its high point and, in my opinion, the true inheritors of the pulp fiction genre in gaming more so than D&D if only because they lacked the inhibitions that later got piled on.

Gonzo playstyle leads to great levels of creativity and can often avoid what can be yet another boring "might as well be Greyhawk" world. After a while, all but the most fantastic of fantasy worlds can become dull, and it's times like those that we run off in search of border bending stuff.

In the end, though, there are problems that I have with all of this, not least of which is that many of us . . . ok some of us . . . ok, maybe just me . . . have a near fetish level appreciation for verisimilitude and "realism." That's not entirely right as it's more along the lines of looking for plausible explanations. In the Forgotten Realms setting, there's a great desert in the middle of which rests of glacier. Supposedly, I suppose, that's supposed to spark creativity and interest in explaining/discovering why that glacier is there, or why that desert is there, or whatever, but in the end, it seems to boil down to "a wizard did it" which isn't any kind of explanation at all. It's baseless wierdness. This might be why I like Arduin to some extent, because the wierdness has a relatively plausible explanation behind it all - a massive tear in the space-time continuum leading to massive and repeated crossings between Khaas and pretty much everywhere else leading to a general rule of thumb "if it stands even a remote chance of being cool, go for it."

Another issue I find is that it often turns into scenery porn. Either the DM has spent more time pouring love into the setting than he has creating an actually interesting (or at least pursuable) adventure, or it's so strange that the players spend more time trying to get their bearings: how often can you worry about whether that large animal you ride on is a horse, or a warm-blooded reptilian spider before you start to lose interest? This is absolutely the reason why I'm a great fan of low fantasy, especially stuff like A Song of Ice and Fire. It's fantastic enough, but not so strange that readers spend more time flipping back and forth between the text and the mandatory glossary just trying to figure out what a "whojunkiz" is and why it's hurting somebody's "yambotheric."

Assimov said it best, I think, when he said at some point that his first rule of writing good science fiction was to ask the audience to believe only one unbelieveable thing. This applies just as much to Fantasy as it does to anything else. You could have the sun rise in the North and set in the East, but why? What purpose does it have other than to lend some faux exoticism? Those multiple suns in the Tatooinian sky were there only to let us know quickly (as if we hadn't figured it out by now) that the crew really wasn't just wandering around in Tunisia. Everything added above the "normal" should have purpose.

Taken too far, and it ends up turing the focus of the game towards experiencing strange new worlds rather than adventuring in them. For me, the focuse of D&D always was and always should be on the actions of the characters, whether they choose to make heroes of themselves, or whether they restrain themselves to merely robbing crypts for the gold and grave goods they might find. Or they might choose to become grand explorers, but then it's their choice rather than neccessity because the world is so disparate from the world that the players know that they spend more time trying to figure it all out rather than actually adventuring. Keeping things closer to the real world gives the players a metahporical leg to stand on before the wierd-shit-o-meter spikes.

The worst thing, I think, is when this turns into the gimmick settings. "It's like Greyhawk, but with . . ." Dark Sun is like Greyhawk, but with really dry weather and lots of psionics. Dragonlance is just like Greyhawk, but with lots of dragons and a super-simplistic view of morality and interpersonal relationships. Eberron is just like Greyhawk, but with "magical technology." The world becomes a shtick rather than anything living and breathing.

The Hagli'mesh

2009-04-21T06:33:00.000-07:00

Climate/Terrain: Cold boreal forest and taiga south of the mountains and dwarven kingdom, never found in remnants of old empire and kingdoms of south
Frequency: Very Rare
Organization: Solitary
Intelligence:non- to exceptional
Treasure: NA - See below
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
No. Appearing: 1
Armor Class: 2
Movement: 9
Hit Dice: 6
THAC0: 15
No. Attacks: 1 (smash) or 1 (throttle)
Damage Attacks: 1d6+6 (smash) or 1d4+6+Level Drain (throttle)
Special Attacks: Level Drain, Move Silently/Hide Shadows
Special Defenses: Standard per undead, Immune to Ice/Cold attacks
Magic Resistance: Nill
Size: Small
Morale: 20 Fearless

Hagli'Mesh appear as small elf children, twisted and deformed and pierced by long ceremonial flint blades. They walk with a twisted and stumbling gait, but are suprisingly graceful when required.

Combat: Hagli'Mesh are capable of moving silently through the forests and hiding in shadows as a thief level 6. They will often use this to approach a party undetected and ambush them for maximum effect due to their slow movement rate. Due to their twisted forms, they are unable to charge or increase their spead above Movement 9.

Hagli'Mesh attack by slamming their fists into foes and scrabbling at the throats of their victims. Due to their great strength, they are capable of inflicting significant damage. If an attack succeeds by more than 5 on a d20, the creature has managed to get a grip on his victim's throat and will begin strangling the poor creature the next round, causing 1d4+6 damage per round and draining 1 life energy level per round until the creature is slain or its grip is broken via a successful bend bars roll.

They are immune to mind affecting spells as are all undead and are further completely immune to ice or cold attacks.

Tactics depend largely upon the intelligence of the individual Hagli'Mesh. Those that have completely lost their minds during their transformation will attack with mindless brute force until either they or their opponents are dead. Those with greater intelligence will fight as appropriate, using ambush tactics, hit and run attacks, and others, but will never relent in its quest to see its victims dead short of its own destruction.

Habitat/Ecology: The semi-nomadic elf tribes wandering the taiga and boreal forests south of the mountains leave in their wake small shrines to the Hagli'mesh, an elf word with no literal translation into common or, seemingly, any other language. The word refers both to a physical structure and, only in whispers, a being. Constructed of a mastodon or mammoth hide stretched over the ribs or tusks of the animal, or in rare cases a thin lattice work of saplings, individual Hagli'mesh shrines can easily be mistaken for the dwelling of local forest sprites or supply cache, but woe betide those who invade the sanctity of such structures.

Within such a structure, there is a small humanoid corpse pierced by a long flint or obsidian blade and propped up in a pose resembling what humans call a "scare crow." Closer examination by a knowledgable individual will reveal that the figure is, in fact, a slain elf child (no more than 25-30 years old, equivalent to a 12 year old human child)with various grave goods strung about his neck in the form of a necklace of berries, fruits, dried meats, cakes, and other food stuffs. Only very rarely is anyting of monetary value discovered by the unscrupulous.

Throughout the region, elf tribes typically remain in one area, living in semi-permanent buildings constructed of hide and mastodon bone, for anywhere between 50 and 100 years. After such time, they pack everything onto their sledges and pack animals and migrate in cyclic patterns throughout the forests and taiga. Before leaving, however, the child of the most materially prosperous family is sacrificed by driving a ritual flint blad through the boy and covering him in a fresh Hagli'mesh structure. Left unattended and unmolested, such a structure and its sacrificial offering are torn down by local wolves or other wild animals within only a few days.

Such sacrifices are offerings by the elves to return some of the prosperity that the land has given them, and no elf would dream of refusing to offer their own child willingly in such a ritual, though they are not beyond acts of great "generosity" at times, giving away large amounts of their material wealth at strategic moments to ensure the survival of their own children. Most times, nothing goes wrong, but occasionally, some individuality is left to the sacrificed child, enough for it to grow angry over its condition and to rise again and wander the wood at night, enacting its hatred and loathing of life on any creature within its grasp . . .

The Book of Common Prayer

2009-04-20T10:07:00.000-07:00

No, not that one, but inspired by it certainly.

One of the greatest advantages of the cleric class (if not the single greatest advantage) is their ability to gain any spell in the cleric spell list without having to resort to spell books, scrolls, or other "memorization media." This means that every cleric - assuming he has access to the appropriate sphere and level - can cast a healing spell, and the prayer spell, and all the rest, which is a startling advantage over magic users who must build their inventory of spells over time as they adventure. Their only limiters on spells are the requirements for rest every day and daily devotions in order to regain spells. It's also presumed that the cleric is required to further the cause of his ethos/god or otherwise stay true to his supposed religion, but this is ignored frequently enough that it might as well be optional.

Whether or not this disparity is "fair" is not my concern here. What's more interesting to me is the number of minor problems this issue can introduce.

First, it leads to a major issue if the DM wants to introduce new spells for the cleric from other sources, especially midway through a campaign. This can get especially dangerous if the ref isn't careful and doesn't make sure that the floodgates stay closed, thereby letting in a flood of spells into the game that he didn't want to begin with. In all fairness, while it might be great fun for me as the DM to throw a cleric with the "Spittle" spell at the group, it's not wonderful to then turn arond and tell the party clerics that not only can't they have such a spell (for it is evil in its own way) but that they can't go outside the bounds of the PHB to begin with.

Another major issue as I see it is that it leads to a disconnect between the cleric character and any possible organization of the religion he serves - i.e., the tribal teachings of the shaman, or "the church" as it were for geographically broader faiths. Just what attachment does an adventuring cleric of Pelor have with the church of Pelor anyway? What are his duties to the hierarchy if any? What penalties will he suffer for failing to oblige by them?

There's also the issue of holidays, fasting days, feasting days, and the religious calendar at large, though that is entirely the province of the DM and unique to each campaign.

My solution is the introduction of a holy cannon for each sort of priest in the campaign. Each individual religion will have its own holy texts (i.e., its own bible) which all of their clergy will be required to be familiar with. In it are the teachings and stories of the god, the history of the church if appropriate, and tellings of the miracles performed by the faithful. For the spellcasting members of the clergy (i.e., those with PC classes in Cleric, Druid, or any other class that features spell casting) these texts serve as essential tools without which they find the performance of miracles increasingly difficult: for every 24 hours period without their cannon, a cleric/druid character faces a cumulative 5% chance increased spell failure chance. These texts contain all of the spells available to cleric characters out of the PHB for the first three levels. At such time as a cleric character would be able to cast 4th level spells, he must make a pilgrimage to a suitable stronghold of his faith and present himself to the authorities there to make a reckoning of his career thus far and plead his case for access to the greater mysteries of the faith. Only if the authorities (an abbot or high priest or whatnot) are satisfied by the accounting will the priest be granted access to more complete sacred texts and permitted to copy from them. The whole process requires a week per spell level gained (i.e., gaining access to 4th level spells requires 4 full weeks of prayer and copying. Thus, replacing a lost or stolen cannon will require a significant investment in time and effort.

A priest may, of course, add spells gained upon his travels to his cannon, but such may cause difficulties when returning to the church for reckoning as spells outside of the cannon may be considered blasphemous. Unscrupulous priests may even pay for completed texts rather than subject themselves to the scrutiny of their superiors.

Why Can't We Have A Decent Fantasy Show?

2009-04-14T07:56:00.000-07:00

Well, in watching Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire over on Comedy Central here in the US, it's clear that the show is a shallow parody of a genre that its creators don't enjoy or are even particularly familiar with beyond the basest elements. Don't get me wrong, it was amusing in a puerile sort of way - tastless gay jokes, sex jokes, gay sex jokes, and the occasional slapstick prevail throughout - and I will probably end up watching at least the next few episodes if only to see what they do to abuse poor John Rhys Davies and Eliza Dushku.

What is more amusing to me - though also just as disheartening in its own way - is that the show seems to be as much, if not more so, a parody of fantasy gaming as it is about the fantasy genre as a whole. Certain scenes seem to be built around tropes of D&D and its ilk such as Loquasto's firing into melee (and frequently hitting his friend Krod), taking a mulligan (which seemed almost a direct reference to dice rolling in its own amusing way), and the death of General Arcadius (I spent at least 30 seconds there counting off hitpoints from miltiple crossbow bolts and a spear to the chest).

The end result is a somewhat watchable show if you can get past the parts that bother you - and there most certainly will be parts that will bother you whether it's the, let's be kind and call her "promiscuous" Aneka or the over the top Bruce whom just about everybody with common sense will find offensive once he tells you the two ways in which his lover, the General Arcadius, transmitted the prophecy that supposedly will drive the show's plot, and that can be genuinely amusing at times.

But in the end, I have to wonder why we have to settle for this kind of thing. Why is it that the only halfway decent fantasy movie to make it to the big screen since the terrible Lord of the Rings trilogy is Harry Potter? Harry Potter poorly adapted no less. Why is it that fantasy movies made for television are consigned to the likes of the absolute drek that the Sci-Fi Channel (or should I say SyFy?) produces that aren't even watchable when extremely drunk. The Sands of Oblivion springs to mind here.

Why is fantasy reduced to being the ghetto genre of the Science-Fiction ghetto? Why the hell can't we get a decent show or movie made that isn't a shallow parody or just plain old terrible?

Dave Arneson

2009-04-09T06:55:00.000-07:00

Well, the news is official this time, and it's certainly sad. There are already a number of tributes to the man and his work sprouting up across the blogs and other spots in the web. I won't bother linking to them since you'll be able to find them easily enough and they'll all have done a better job at commemorating the man than I ever could.

I'm only taking a brief moment here to give a nod to one of the co-creators of the game that we all enjoy, whose creative style and sensibilities meshed well enough with Mr. Gygax's to create something that - little were they aware, I am sure - would become a cultural phenomenon spanning the globe and spawning several multi-million dollar industries and created a household name that even the uninitiated recognized and understood.

I will note that, likely due to my age, I never used Blackmoor or the First Fantasy Campaign or really anything that was distinctly Arneson's, and I don't think I'm alone in this. There is currently an entire generation of gamers who recognize Arneson only as a name written briefly in the front of their PHB's and to whom they have no more solid or tangible connection than they do to the other roots of the game they play. Dave Arneson is "just another name" really, and that's a very sad thing.

In any case, I offer my salute today to one of the two men who helped give us a new way to play cowboys and indians, and who talked to us like we were adults no matter what.

Middle School Principles

2009-04-08T07:22:00.000-07:00

In the same vein as the Old School Primer available for free over on Lulu, here are, as I see them, some of the principles behind Middle School gaming (i.e., those of us stuck somewhere between grognard and newbie status). This isn't definitive or anything like that as I make no pretenses to know what the hell I'm talking about: this is, after all, only opinion.

1)Rulings, Not Rules: There is no difference here between Old and Middle schools. It is vital that what a player/character can do is not pre-defined for them. Extensive and expansive rule sets only give the illusion of more variety of action; instead, they tend to limit action by constraining it into a set of pre-programmed options.

2)Challenge the Player AND the Character: Intelligent and skilled play are crucial to the game and character survival. Players must do much more than merely roll dice to survive. However, certain challenges are designed for the character and not the player. A character with an 18 intelligence played by a player with a 13 intelligence has to be taken into account in some way. The same goes for instances where a character would have knowledge that a player does not (for instance, a cultural oddity that the player is unaware of) that has an effect on game play. One should never expect, though, to simply dice their way through anything. This leads me into point #3 . . .

3)Playing as Character: This is not an advocation of method acting, or support of role playing as amateur theater hour. This is the acknowledgement that each player assumes the part of the character that they create and run. Players should make some effort to "play the part" rather than treating the character as nothing more than a construct of numbers and a game piece. They should be speaking as their character rather than saying "my character says . . ." and they should have the character act appropriately. A character who is a physical coward should be played as such.

4)Story, Not Plot: We all of us like a good, tight plot in a book or movie. It's essential there. But an RPG adventure or, even worse, an entire campaign should not belabour under any kind of plot. The substance of an adventure or campaign should never depend upon the PC's going directly from point A to B to C with no deviation. However, creating an adventure or campaign around a story, or potential story is fine. For example, the story of how the characters confronted the evil wizard lord of the tower might make a great adventure, but the minute that "scripted events" start appearing, something has gone wrong.

These are just preliminary items. There are more that are lurking about that just haven't been explicated yet.

The Cord is Cut

2009-04-07T06:25:00.000-07:00

The news is out all over the web. I'm not even going to bother linking to the actual news reports since, if you're actually reading this blog, you already know all about it, but I can't resist linking toJeff's Visceral Reaction to the whole thing. Johnny Cash says it well with only a gesture.

That said, I have to ask if anybody here actually doubted such an event would come to pass eventually? At some point, a beancounter at Hasbro and WOTC would have to look out and notice that people were still buying copies of older editions and not trying out the newest flavor and they would come to the conclusion that anybody not buying the newest version of D&D would be bad for business.

Of course, we can all rant and rave about how horrible a decision this is, how WOTC is, basically, throwing out money and locking out people who were willing to throw them a few bucks now and then for some products in favor of grabbing the teens and tweens with mommy's credit card and getting X% new subscriptions the DDI (or whatever they call that trash now) and Hasbro's latest vaporware product (I refuse, now, to pay for something that I cannot hold in my hands). We'd be right, at least in part, that WOTC is trying to drown out the presence of people who play a game that is not beholden to the corporate masters in Washington state and try to present 4ed as the only D&D, at least right up until 5th edition comes out, and then 4ed players will be dropped like a great big pile of stink (at which point I will have myself a great big laugh again at the wailing and the gnashing of teeth that goes on).

Or, we could look at this as an opportunity. This is the point where those who have in the past and will continue to resist "upgrading" to 4ed will look for new material in their particular idiom. Those who are looking for AD&D material, or BECMI and 0e material, are going to start looking around and eventually, those who didn't already know about them, will find Labyrinth Lord and Swords and Wizardry and OSRIC and they're going to realize that they aren't left completely high and dry anymore.

This is the chance for this OSR to take the reigns and become more than just a bunch of neckbeards grumbling across the internet at each other and growling at the whipper snappers to get off their lawn. Now's the chance for this old school revival or rennaisance or whatever it is to actually take back control of their hobby, or at least their corner of it, and start inviting people in rather than mumbling about how those young kids "aren't doing it right" and mumbling about what should be "orthodox old school" or even if there should be an orthodox.

Old School gaming now should be about inclusiveness, not exclusiveness. The movement should be extending the hand often and repeatedly to those who are becoming dissillusioned with the corporate model of D&D and show them that there's another way.

The Heartwood Staff

2009-04-06T11:22:00.000-07:00

The origin of this item is completely unknown. It is speculated by the more poetic of sages that it may have come into existence concurrently with Thylia (the world) itself, or may have even been used to create the world through some unknown power. Such speculation, however, is mere flight of fancy as those who know more about it than mere heresay, the druids, guard its secrets assiduously.

The staff is approximately the size of a standard quarterstaff and appears unadorned and unremarkable. It has been rumored that some of the greatest events of history have been precipitated by the staff being carried by an individual who simply did not know what he held in his hand. A detect magic spell will not reveal any magical dweomer, nor will an identify spell yield any usefull information. Legend Lore, on the other hand, may provide some leads for further investigation.

The primary powers of the staff are as follows:

1) The current custodian of the staff functions as if he were a 5th level druid. However, during such time, he must abide by the restrictions of the druidic faith or all such power is lost. One who is already a druid functions as if he were two levels higher.

2)At any time, the staff can provide the function of a Combine spell functioning for any druid or sympathetic creature touching the staff. The duration of this effect is limited only to however long each creature in the effect remains in contact with the staff and can be initiated with one round's concentration.

3) Thrice per day, the staff can be called upon to create the effects of the Weather Control and Plant Growth spells at 20th level effect with area of effect centered upon the staff and its custodian.

4) Once per week, the staff can summon a Nature Elemental (see Monstrous Manual Annual Compendium volume IV for details). The elemental will set about returning the surrounding 1 mile of terrain to a completely natural state, removing all traces of civilization for 24 hours. This power involves the completion of a 1 hour ceremony on the part of the custodian.

5) Once per century, the staff may be used to initiate a major climatological or ecological shift of staggering proportion upon Thylia. For example, a vast desert can be made to bloom and be verdant as a jungle - permanently or until the staff is used to restore the original state. Such use, though, causes an equal and opposite reaction elsewhere in the world (GM determination). The change is not instantaneous, but may take the entire thousand years to complete. Use of this power subjects the custodian immediately to artifact transformation per below. Use of this power requires an 8 hours ceremony and must involve the entirety of a druidic circle of no less than 10 individuals.

Minor powers (see Book of Artifacts or AD&D 1e DMG):
4 x I
2 x II
3 x IV

Curse/Artifact Transformation: There are two modes of transformation. First, upon using any of the primary powers, the custodian must make a save vs. paralyzation or immediately renounce his current occupation, change alignment to True Neutral, and seek out training as a Druid (any PC becomes an NPC for this purpose as the character is no longer under his player's control, but that of the staff itself).

The use of the 5th primary power invokes a 2nd transformation, this one automatic. Upon successful completion of the ceremony and the inauguration of the desired change, the custodian is immediately subsumed by the staff and absorbed entirely to reside within it forever.

If the staff should come into the hands of a non-druid and this becomes known to ANY druid, representatives of the order will arrive almost immediately and demand that it be turned over to them. Quick and polite compliance will earn the respect of the order, perhaps even a reward. Failure to comply will gain the party a very powerful enemy. Currently, the Shadow Circle (a covert sub-group of the Druidic Order who believe that civilization itself is a crime against the Balance) seek the staff for their own agenda. They will stop at nothing to acquire it and, in their eyes, use it to restore the Balance.

Rune Magic

2009-04-06T08:37:00.000-07:00

This is something I've been rolling around in my head for the last two weeks. It's basically an alpha draft of runic magic based, in part, on Supplement III psionics somewhat, the runes from the Viking 2e sourcebook, and little bits from the depths of my disturbed and addled psyche. If this makes no sense at all to you guys, then don't worry, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me either. I've not decided whether or not I want to actually pursue this line of thinking, or if I want to simply abandon it as a half-baked brain fart and abstract the entire thing.

Just a note: any numbers here are largely based on AD&D 2e, though they'll fit fine in 1e or OSRIC without any trouble. Labyrinth Lord or Swords and Wizardry would require a bit of fiddling, or simply a new chart to be put together. A project for a different day perhaps.

Also be warned that I'm typing this up from the office from notes scribbled on napkins from the Black Barn Restaurant in NJ where this lunatic idea hit me over a bowel of good chili, so don't expect any real coherence here in terms of mechanics.

Introduction: Runes are an ancient and powerful form of magic originating, according to various scholars and sages, with the Mound People. Others claim that the Dwarves created this form of magic due to apparent similarities to their current written language. Just as many theories point to the ancient and lost empire of the elves and still more point to some strange and horrifying origin from the darkness before the world. The truth is, nobody currently living and willing to speak on the topic knows the origin of this form of magic.

Runes are an ideographic form of magic rather than the phonetic magical languages: i.e., one rune represents an entire word or concept rather than just a sound. One rune carries all the power of the idea behind it. Thus, a rune of Death is more than just the runic word for that concept, but carries with it all the attendant baggage that philosophers have written libraries of books about. They are complicated and difficult to learn and, according to some, impossible to master.

Learning a Rune:In order to learn a rune, a source of information must first be found. Preferably, this will be a person already accomplished in runic magic who can pass on the secrets of that particular ideogram personally, though it is possible to learn from a text or by spending a good deal of time researching an example of a complete rune (such research would most certainly be time consuming and possibly expensive, most certainly hazardous). Even with proper instruction, the learning process is far from certain. The time required to learn a rune is equal to 20 days less the average of the character's WIS and INT. These days must be spent in at least 8 consecutive hours of study. Significant interruption will require the learner to start again. If the character only has a text as his source material, the time is 30 days less the average of WIS and INT. Researching a rune without any assistance is a process goverened entirely by the DM.

At the end of this time period, the character will again take the average of his Intelligence and Wisdom. He must then roll 3d6 with a result equal to or less than his averaged mental attributes to successfully learn the power of that particular rune. Rolling above this number results in failure and the character may not try again to learn this particular rune.

A character of any race or class can attempt to learn a rune, though most frequent users are Humans, Dwarves, Fighters, Druids, and Mages. Clerics tend to eschew runes as they gain their power from a higher, purer source. Elves, on the other hand, have no particular incapability of using runes, but find them abhorent for some unspoken reason and will not willingly make use of them and may even drive away obvious users of runes.

Ok, here's where things get a little hairy in my brain.

Creation and Activation of Runes: To use a rune, a character must carve it. It cannot be written in ink upon a page, traced in the air or sand, or spoken as if it were a simple spell. This magic is deeper and older than such ephemeral cantrips. No, a rune must be carved into at least a semi-permanent medium such as stone, wood, metal, or other similar objects. It is not unheard of for some barbaric cultures to carve runes upon their own flesh. The carving process requires a successful Wisdom check.* A failure indicates an error has been made during the carving.

The activation of a rune requires blood: at least 4hp worth. A character on their own can easily open a sufficient wound in his own body, or the body of a willing volunteer. The blood of an unwilling "volunteer" must be obtained in the usual manner. The blood is smeared over the rune, upon which its power activates and remains active for a short time per the description of the individual runes. A character may activate more than one rune at a time, but doing so requires that he succeed at a Constitution check at -1 for each rune after the first. Thus, activating two runes requires a CON check at -1 while three runes requires a check at CON-2. This check applies even if the blood used to activate the runes is not that of the activating character.

Iron Will Not Bite: This rune is most often used by warriors and those in combat. Upon activation, it will reduce all damage done to the character by iron or steel weapons by 1 point per die. This includes magical weapons, but not any weapon made of stone or wood or without a significant steel component. Typically, such a rune is carved upon armor, a helm, or a pendant. This is the most rune most commonly carved upon flesh in such instances. It cannot be carved upon a weapon or other object, but must be placed upon an item that will enclose, encircle, or otherwise indicate the object or individual to be so protected. Duration is a number of rounds equal to the number of hp worth of blood used to activate it (minimum 4).

Death Oracle: Use of this rune permits the user to contact the spirits of the dead and gain truthful answers to his questions. Activation requires a minimum of 4 hp worth of blood and an additional 1 hp for every 5 years the creature has been dead. Thus, a creature dead only a few days is easy to contact while someone dead for centuries may be impossible to contact without the sacrifice of several living beings. Persons contacted by these means will communicate in their own language and will be compelled to speak truthfully, though nothing prevents them from twisting or misrepresenting facts as long as what they say is factually correct. This rune will remain active for approximately 10 minutes.

I'm not at all happy with the last half of this. It seems . . . cobbled together and half-assed, but such is the way of things when trying to move beyond Vancian casting at times.

Comments?

*I had thought about throwing in a proficiency called "runecraft" or some such thing, but then I realized that only about 1% of the gaming world would continue reading past the mention of such a thing. So . . .

Grognard on Grognard Action!

2009-04-02T09:41:00.000-07:00

As Noisms put it, "the wailing and gnashing of teeth" has begun at, among other places, LotFP and Lord of the Green Dragons.

Whatever the hell about, it's honestly hard to tell, but it looks like an Old School internecine edition war. So now, not only do we have "Grognards," "3Etards," and "4rons," we must further divide up that first group into whomever sucks at the teat of which clone or even those who refuse the concept of clones in and of themselves and adhere to their moldering copies of Whitebox edition or BECMI or whatever.

And all I can do is laugh.

In all honesty, who the fuck cares whether an old school product says "compatible with D&D" or "compatible with [insert clone of choice here]" or "compatible with whatever the hell game you play"? In the first place, Labyrinth Lord and Swords & Wizardry are only a hop, skip, and a fart away from each other. Osric is just round the corner. Hackmaster ain't far behind, and whatever else game you play probably doesn't need a whole lot of effort before that module or supplement or whatever it is works for you, or at least gives you enough ideas to run off and do it yourself, which would be the point in the first place right?

The Old School movement is not system specific. If anything, it has been largely defined, in my view, by what it is not, and what it is not is "not New School." Not about super powers in the Middle Ages. Not about story driven "campaigns." Not about feats, skill points, or daily/per-battle/at-will powers. Not about WOTC's new thrust. That was the greatest strength of the Old School: the realization that whatever system you use was, for the most part, wildly unimportant, it's what you did with it. It was about not settling for pre-processed mass produced pap! And so now we're starting arguments about what should be the standardized system of publishing for the OSR?

Or is this little tempest in the teapot just an argument for the sake of argument?

Oh, and as an aside, "I play D&D" means just what it did 30 years ago. Those of the Old School should recognize more than most that the "common baseline" is largely illusory as the differences between one table and the next are vast enough to make "I play D&D" largely meaningless. It has little to do with what flavor is current today, though yes, most often it will be interpreted as referring to the most recent supported edition excreted by the coastal wizards.

With all due respect to the Old School: stick your shibboleths where your pride goes and remember what's important about this game and this Renaissance.

And you probably won't see a 2ed clone. We don't need one since pretty much every other edition hates us on principle.

Hackmaster Isn't D&D

2009-04-01T07:23:00.000-07:00

Well, first off, I'm going to apologize for this entire article. It is being written while under the influence of about half a dozen over the counter cold and allergy medications and if, at some points, it descends into incomprehensibility more than my usual, well, that is the reason. Mainlining a Benedryl and Claratin cocktail is, upon reconsideration of the act, a bad idea.

I've been thinking a lot, recently, about Hackmaster, especially in light of their upcoming 5th edition. OK, not really a 5th edition at all, but that's what it's colloquially known as other than Hackmaster Basic (HMB), and the conclusion that I came to is that Hackmaster just isn't D&D. Now, a lot of people are going to shout at me and say, rightly, "well no shit, you idiot, of course it isn't D&D!" but I think that a lot of people seem to forget that in some ways. There are so many who, in my experience, seem to look at Hackmaster 4e (i.e., the first edition of Hackmaster to actually hit shelves and not just be a joke in the comic book) as the continuation of the grand tradition of AD&D, and in one sense it really is: hell, its skeleton practically is AD&D.

The thing is, though, that in the translation between the two, it feels like it's lost something. I'm not talking about the addition of parody leading to what can be a less than serious game from time to time. After all, some of the greatest game sessions I've ever been in have devolved into a massive case of the giggles between half a dozen people when somebody actually suggests, with a straight face, trying to trick the warren of wererats by donning fake ears and noses. D&D at its heart revels in good (and bad) humor.

No, I think that what it's lost between 4e and 1e (and especially 2e and 0e) is simplicity and clarity. Hackmaster, in attempting to replicate the High Gygaxian prose of the AD&D books and inject a little extra comedic flair (partially because of intent, and partially because of directive from the evil coastal wizards) and the somewhat arcane presentation, a level of obfuscation and overt intricacy of the rules that, in my mind, detracts from the game on a certain level. I'll single out the skill rules and doubly so the training and advancement rules. I consider myself an educated, informed, and relatively intelligent man, but trying to understand those particular rules creates the same feeling as listening to somebody try to explain the rules of cricket to me: an overwhelming urge to hit somebody with a baseball bat.

Yes, yes, I know I just too recently talked about how I was ok with the whole proficiency system in 2nd edition, a system that drives so many grognards and old schoolers to distraction, but let's get real here, yeah? The proficiency system is a coating of whitewash to gussy up a fence; the Hackmaster skill system is Escher and the training system is Escher on crack. That is, to me, the allure of 2nd edition, that it seemed to restore a lot of the open simplicity of 0ed, but kept on a lot of the additions that I loved from AD&D. It stripped out the High Gygaxian which, though very entertaining to read, was inhibiting when it came to quick comprehension (hardly a drawback some would argue).

All that said, though, I still enjoy playing Hackmaster and would love to get a game of it together at some point. However, it loses or abandons the absolute core of what D&D is in my mind: pure simplicity of rule sets that are open enough for individualization and creation. Hackmaster is just too arcane (intentionally so) and too obtuse for me to confidently screw around with to the extent that I would want. It does have a number of things in it that I'd love to import to 2nd edition (varied AC per shield size for example) but for the most part, it's a different game.

It will be very interesting, though, to see what is made of Hackmaster Basic when it comes out. For those of you who don't know this already, Kenzer has released an excellent little preview in their most recent issue of Hackjournal, specifically a preview of the Mage class and a long list of Q&A answered by none other than Dave Kenzer himself. The class looks promising, to me. Clearly worded and with less obtrusive Gary Speak, but retaining the fondness for complication of its predecessor. For $3, it's definatelly worth the price of the PDF, plus it comes with a few excellent little magic items including the Chainmail Bikini of Strangulation and the Bag of Holding: Spectral Varient.

The Cleric and the Faith Part V: No, There Is No God Margaret

2009-03-27T12:26:00.000-07:00

This is not atheism, but a universe in which no deities actually exist. There are no gods, no powers, nothing that watches over you but the terrifying things that go bump in your nightmares. Humans - and demi-humans - are alone, and are the height of advancement both social and technological (we're not playing the evolutionary levels game here). No devils, demons, daemons, or angels. There are no outer planes, inner planes, or alternate planes.

Oh sure, people still huddle together in the dark and worship things, but in the end, there's nothing there to hear them. This is it.

Of course, this creates a game that's a lot darker and more grim than your average D&D game. People who become badly injured tend to stay that way for a good long time, if they recover at all. People who get sick stay sick, or merely die due to lack of modern medicine. Of course, main casualties are the entire Cleric class, along with Druids and Paladins. Rangers take a glancing blow as they lose their ability to cast some cleric spells at higher levels, but that honestly doesn't bother me at all. In the interest of "balance" I suppose they could be given a few magic user spells to compensate, but in all honesty I don't see the need.

I'm growing more and more enamored of the whole concept, really, though I think it'll end up looking pretty damn terrifying in the end. Something not really suitable at all to standard D&D concepts of rascals with hearts of gold seeking adventure and fortune and so on. Not sure how that bothers me, but it does just a little. D&D always managed to have a positive, almost happy spin on things in my view and I'm not sure I can slice that out without killing some part of the game.

The Width of Two Horses' Asses

2009-03-26T10:06:00.000-07:00

While I have no way to verify this here in the office (for fear of what such a search might drag up through the company network), there's an old story I was told by my grandfather that the width of a modern railroad as determined by the width of two horses' asses side by side. This is because when the Romans built their roads throughout Europe and the Middle East - suckers for standardization that they are - they determined that their roads (and the tunnels through which they travelled) needed to be that width in order to accommodate common horse drawn vehicles of the time. Thus, the width of many roads and tunnels up until the advent of our decadent modern ways were determined by equine backsides.

This is the sort of story that I like. Even if it's not really true, it's amusing and "truthy" enough that it sticks and entertains for at least a while. Similar stories involve why many look at right handedness as correct and left handedness as an aberration (because in a Mediterranean and Middle Eastern culture several thousand years ago, the left hand was used to do only one thing, and it was generally rude to offer that hand to do any other task), or why we in the US drive on the right side of the road rather than the left as in the UK, or any number of societal quirks that we have and have utterly forgotten the origin of but still come naturally to us. When we find out more about them, we are either amused endlessly (as I am) or simply don't believe it at all.

This is the kind of story that should be present in every game. Even if it has no bearing at all on the grand scheme of things, if you even have a grand scheme in your game, even if the players never learn about it or bother to question it, these little tidbits make the world seem just a little more alive at least to the referee, which helps to make it feel more alive to the players stumbling through the world.

In Thylia, it is customary, upon meeting a traveller from the opposite direction on the way, to pass on the side so that your shield, rather than weapon, faces the other traveller. This is a show of peace and respect as passing with weapons facing would be construed as hostile intent. Such custom becomes interesting when the other traveller is left handed . . .

At high tables, it is courteous to set aside a portion of your meal for the servants who, in ages past, would have only what scraps of food fell from the table or went uneaten at the end of the meal.

One should always pass upon the South side of a barrow, thus avoiding its entryway and possibly disturbing its inhabitants.

Mentioning the name of any man, dwarf, or elf exiled from society is bad luck and in poor taste. Most persons will attempt to politely ignore such habits and pretend such persons do not exist.

A traveller who knocks upon any door after sunset can expect at least a place upon the floor next to the fire. Such guests are expected to provide some minor service for their hosts, or at least some minor payment in exchange for such hospitality.

Any other ideas?

The Cleric and the Faith Part IV: All Gods Are Local

2009-03-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

One of the tenets of Old School gaming (and life in general really) is that "all politics are local." That translates to, in my book, no grand overarching plots to save the world against the Big Bad Evil Guy, or righting the cosmic balance, or whatever. The happenings within any campaign are due mostly, if not entirely, due to local forces. Which is, of course, not to say that local happenings can't cause a chain of events that lead to greater and greater effects: the cold grows deeper and more deadly in the north, driving the orcs out of the mountains to compete for space with the hobgoblins on the plains, who move west and begin taking border forts of the human lands, who . . .

This is one of those tenets that is carried forward into Middle School gaming many times, though, to our shame, we did futz around extensively with heavy handed plots and ridiculous "save the world" schemes.

If we can apply it to politics, why wouldn't it apply to gods? Instead of cobbling together yet another standard fantasy pantheon, the assumption is that there are simply no hugely powerful deities (in AD&D 2e terms, that would mean nothing above a lesser deity) and that there are no universally or broadly worshipped entities. Instead, various beings rule over smaller geographic or cultural regions: a valley for instance, or a small chain of islands. For whatever reason, the being draws worship in sufficient quantity and quality that it empowers them to the point of godhood. Govgim Dahl is a great example. Or perhaps a brass dragon who has lurked in the neighborhood of local villages for long enough that the human folk look to it as a protector, guardian, and worship object. A solitary Illithid, lurking in a cavern 'neath a moderate city that collects human sacrifices in order to stave off its wrath.

The possibilities are endless here, and best of all, I don't have to worry about such piddling things like consistency across vast regions as pretty much everybody worships whatever strikes their superstition just the right way. It also leaves the door open to player creativity as their characters could be devout worshippers of whatever local city god or god of the forest they knew as children. It also helps me to take out the broad and sweeping religious issues such as crusades, inquisitions, and mass conversions as no single deity has that level of raw power or following. A creature with a mere thousand living worshippers is probably not going to want to risk them all in some brash attempt to increase its demesne.

This is the other method that I am leaning heavily towards for Thylia. It's suitably complicated that I can have a panoply of gods making appearances here and there, but simple enough that I can throw in another two or three at random intervals and not upset matters. Of course, the next problem this throws up is that I have to create a deity for every NPC cleric that shows their nose anywhere as it's unlikely that a PC cleric will find another of his faith outside the precincts of his home town.

I've also considered combining this with my simplified dualism, in effect putting up the three largest religions as having been, at one time, much smaller, but having grown powerful and widely over the centuries until they are nearly universal. At the same time, lesser gods grew up on their coattails and even now vie for the opportunity to ascend to that level of power. Or perhaps these lesser gods themselves even worship the Power of Light or Darkness.

The Cleric and the Faith Part III: D&D Pantheism

2009-03-24T08:04:00.000-07:00

The most common method by far, I think (based on a completely unscientific method of pulling this statistic from my ass), of dealing with clerics, priests, and "the powers that be" in the standard fantasy role playing game, and especially in D&D, is to throw up a whole plethora of gods and godesses. Sometimes, it's a customized set of home brew gods that, for some reason always seem to feel exactly the same as every other set. There'll be Zabril, the god of death, an evil cuss who wears a black cloak (white if you're a Japanophile) and carries an appropriate weapon. Then there's Aborath, god of goodness and chivalry who appears as a white knight in shining armor who expects his clerics to bring his light into the darkest corners of the world by dint (and dent) of a mace. There'll usually be some kind of draconic god, like maybe a five headed dragon with all the colors . . . And that's all fine and dandy, but it feels most of the time just like every other variation on the theme. Every other hackneyed and half assed D&D world. And yes, I'm aware of the irony, why do you ask?

Another common use is to recycle gods from our own various mythoi, usually the popularized versions found in modern textbooks, or possibly Bullfinch, throw them all in a blender and hit "frappe." Set is the god of evil and death, Odin is a god of good and battle, Zeus is the king of the gods, and Quetzalcoatl is the god of civilization. It's all amusing, familiar, and more than a little eerie in a way to see so many of our own cultures mashed together into some frankenstinian amalgam, and it's only occasionally that somebody seems to "get it right" so to speak. It's only very occasionally that we see an Odin who is based more on his representation in the Havamal and the Sagas than on Gary's take on things.

Again, nothing wrong with it, but not where I want to go really.

Maybe it's the recent influence of HP Lovecraft on my brain, but it seems like the concept of personal and aligned deities (i.e., Shazaam the LN god of stain removers) are somehow limiting. It makes them seem like nothing more than especially powerful entities and, in some cases, they are exactly that: merely very powerful beings that started out as mortals. If the gods are nothing more than very powerful beings, then they become fodder for the swords of adventurers. Of course, this is a time honored tradition in both old and new schools of play, but it's always struck me as particularly stupid to reduce gods to that level. Gods are to humans (dwarves, elves, trolls, pixies, etc.) as humans are to bacteria, but only in comparisons of various "power levels" so to speak. They are not merely higher forms of life or even personal and sentient beings properly speaking.

In this view, the gods are, at best, the semi-sentient amalgam of the energies poured into a concept. The god of death, for instance, is not a being as we would imagine one, but the summation of all the energy spent worshipping death, advancing death, protecting death, fighting death, and so on. It is the energized and motile concept of the extinguising of life, neither good nor evil nor even neutral. It is incapable of morality in the mortal sense of the concept and to attribute sentience to it is missaimed.

The character of the worshipper is determined entirely by that worshipper and not by any dictate from the godhead (such as it is). Thus, a lawful evil congregation of the god of Death may show their devotion by decideing to bring "Death's Gift" to every living being in the world via a convoluted magical ceremony involving world spanning plots. A chaotic good worshipper may show devotion by helping fight against premature death and unnatural death: fighting the perversion of Death. A neutral congregation may take vows never to interfere one way or the other in the termination or preservation of life, but devote itself entirely to providing moderate comfort in the final passage, a hospice of sorts. In the end, the worshippers are reflections of various aspects of Death, and consequently Death itself is a reflection of the ideologies of its worshipers.

Each god would have clerics with a different assortment of available spells, perhaps each church as well. The spells available would reflect their mission and ideology.

I realize that this entire concept is wonky at best and absolutly bird brained most likely, but I think it's one that's supported by the supposed D&D mythos of AD&D 2e that I wanted to jettison a while ago. At the very least, in the Planescape books, the reality of the game world is shaped by the beliefs of its inhabitants. Thus, if somebody actually believes it, and believes in it strongly enough, it can come true. Belief is what causes entire towns and cities to slide from the Outlands into the Abyss, and, seemingly, the creation of deities.

I think the idea is an interesting one, and leads to a lot of infighting between various churches as they strive to achieve the "one true version" of their respective religions.

Somebody tell me I'm not absolutely mad?

The Best Gaming Advice EVER

2009-03-24T07:12:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we lose in all the discussion about whether Old School, New School, Summer School, or Clown School gaming is the best, or what house rules are great, or what edition is the best, or whether or not Gary Gygax is, in fact, a deity himself, some of the most common sense and basic advice that we, as gamers and as people, should be following. Enjoy yourself, and good luck!Don't be a dickhead.

Noisms has it exactly right. Most problems with gaming can be boiled down to people just flat out being jerks during what's supposed to be fun.

In that light, I present below advice from the DM himself from B1, advice that everybody should be intimately familiar with before they're allowed to open a book, no matter if that book is a glossy PHB from WOTC or a dingy and well-worn little brown book.

TIPS FOR PLAYERS
Beginning players would do well to profit from some basic
advice before beginning their D&D careers, and with that in
mind, the following points are offered for consideration:
1) Be an organized player. Keep accurate records on your
character (experience, abilities, items possessed, etc.) for
your own purposes and to aid the Dungeon Master.
2) Always keep in mind that the Dungeon Master is the
moderator of the game, and as such, deserves the continued
cooperation, consideration and respect of all the
players. If you disagree with him or her, present your viewpoint
with deference to the DM's position as game judge, but
be prepared to accept his or her decision as final—after all,
keep in mind that you may not know all aspects of the overall
game situation, and in that case, not everything will always
go your way!
3) Cooperate with your fellow players and work together
when adventuring. Remember that on any foray into the dungeon
or wilderness, a mix of character classes will be beneficial,
since the special abilities of the various characters will
complement each other and add to the overall effectiveness
of the party.
4) Be neither too hasty nor too sluggish when adventuring. If
you are too fast in your exploration, you may recklessly endanger
yourself and your fellow adventurers and fall prone
to every trick and trap you encounter. If you are too slow, you
will waste valuable time and may be waylaid by more than
your share of wandering monsters without accomplishing
anything. As you gain playing experience you will learn the
proper pace, but rely on your DM for guidance.
5) Avoid arguing. While disagreements about a course of
action will certainly arise from time to time, players should
quickly discuss their options and reach a consensus in order
to proceed. Bickering in the dungeon will only create noise
which may well attract wandering monsters. Above all, remember
that this is just a game and a little consideration will
go far toward avoiding any hard feelings . . .
6) Be on your guard. Don't be overly cautious, but be advised
that some non-player characters may try to hoodwink
you, players may doublecross you, and while adventuring,
tricks and traps await the unwary. Of course, you won't avoid
every such pitfall (dealing with the uncertainties is part of the
fun and challenge of the game), but don't be surprised if
everything is not always as It seems.
7) Treat any retainers or NPCs fairly. If you reward them generously
and do not expose them to great risks of life and limb
that your own character would not face, then you can expect
a continuing loyalty (although there may be exceptions,
of course).
8) Know your limits. Your party may not be a match for every
monster you encounter, and occasionally it pays to know
when and how to run away form danger. Likewise, a dungeon
adventure may have to be cut short if your party suffers
great adversity and/or depleted strength. Many times it will
take more than one adventure to accomplish certain goals,
and it will thus be necessary to come back out of a dungeon
to heal wounds, restore magical abilities and spells, and reinforce
a party's strength.
9) Use your head. Many of the characters' goals in the game
can be accomplished through the strength of arms or magic.
Others, however, demand common sense and shrewd
judgment as well as logical deduction. The most successful
players are those who can effectively use both aspects of the
game to advantage.
10) The fun of a D&D game comes in playing your character's
role. Take on your character's persona and immerse
yourself in the game setting, enjoying the fantasy element
and the interaction with your fellow players and the Dungeon
Master.

In the words of Bill and Ted: "Be excellent to each other."

Why I Tolerate the Proficiency System

2009-03-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

A lot of people rag on the proficiency system for a whole lot of reasons. The Old School takes swings at it because, seemingly, it's that first step on the Path of Doom that leads directly to TETSNBN( The Edition That Shall Not Be Named) and all that idiocy. "We don't need no stinkin' skill system!" they argue, and quite rightly in most respects.

On the other hand, the system catches flak from the D20 and Hackmaster crew for being "half-assed" and not at all sufficient for their needs. Their needs are better served by D20's . . . I'll be nice and call it "complicated" system or Kenzer's positively Byzantine, but still enjoyable system of percentile rolls. I'll be honest, though, and say that both systems feel to me like having the rules of Cricket explained and the net result is the same: the sudden and overwhelming urge to whallop somebody with a bat. They're honestly more trouble than they're worth, and on top of that they betray a myopic and modern viewpoint: specifically that people are, by nature, cosmopolitan and multi-skilled by default.

I was, not too long ago when I still had pretensions at being "Old School," a fan of completely skill-less systems and verged on the point of excising proficiencies entirely from my game. I even started the task of building lists of what could be considered general character knowledge based on class to forestall the inevitable argument about how such and such a character would be expected to know all about The Nameless and Unknown Horror. They usually read something like this: "You're a fighter, and know which end of the spear/sword to hold without hurting yourself . . . you know enough not to eat the red berries unless the trail boss tells you to and not to pitch your tent in the dry stream bed at night." In the end, though, they turned into multi-page documents that nobody would even want to read except, possibly, as a bad joke.

It's at that point that I realized what I really liked about proficiencies. They're a way of inserting a skill system into the game without actually inserting a skill system. The non-proficiency system is not about what a character can do. After all, any boob can ride a horse from point A to point B without falling into the ditch every 10 feet just as all but the densest morons are able to light a fire and cook their supper at the end of a long day's march. And yet we have the Riding, Cooking, and Fire Building proficiencies that make it seem like they confer these very abilities. But in actuallity, they do not. Riding specifically starting with being able to fight from horseback (or unicorn back, or giant lizard back, or whatever) without falling or injuring either yourself or the mount and ranging all the way to performing stunts and tricks that would make the best show stallions in the world jealous. The proficiency description is very explicit in that it does not cover basic riding under average circumstances and, at the rist of sounding like a jackass, anybody who forces PC's to succeed at riding checks in order to mount their horse in the morning and not break their necks at noon are DOING IT WRONG! At the same time, fire building is the ability to build fires in very adverse conditions (rain storms, blizzards, wet fuel, etc.) and cooking is the ability to create gourmet and lavish meals rather than simple home or trail cooking.

In the end, I view the proficiency system as exactly that: a system for determining what your character is proficient in beyond what the average schlub is capable of. Literally, a list of things in which your character is good enough to earn a living through. Thus, somebody with the carpentry proficiency is not just a guy who can fix their front door (any moron can do that) but a true master carpenter who could sell that skill in exchange for money or other recompense. Yes yes, I know that "fire building" isn't a valid career option, even in the pseudo medieval world of most D&D settings, but that's why I said "tolerate" rather than "love." For all its wrinkles, I think the non-weapon proficiency system is the best solution for the issue at hand that's something other than "common sense." In my experience, there isn't a single player out there that has enough common sense to know better than to plunge their hands into the mysterious pool of "water" in order to grab at the copper coins they see on the bottom.

Of course, I've never been entirely sure what to do with things like Omen Reading and Astronomy. On the one hand, I feel like I should be putting in opportunities for said proficiencies to come up in play if the player ever remembers that they have it, but at the same time I feel that the best answer might be to smack the player upside the head and ask him just what it was he was smoking if he thought that they would be useful. I am not in the business of creating situations where the PC's can shine like some sort of convoluted and demented Eigen Plot, but at the same time, I have to be sure not to shut down the players entirely because their choices should mean something in the end, even if it's an NPC mocking them for having useless skills. After all, I am routinely mocked for having the world's only degree that officially qualifies me to say "Would you like fries with that?" and I've learned to live with it. So should the omen readers and astronomers.

This musing and rant has been brought to you by the disturbed workings of a delusional mind. If you're still reading this, then I'm truly sorry for you.

Eternal Guardian

2009-03-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

A new(ish) creature from Thylia. Hope you enjoy it.

Eternal Guardian

Climate/Terrain: Any, usually Subterranean
Frequency: Rare
Organization: By Squad, Unit, or Army
Activity Cycle: Any
Diet: NA
Intelligence: Semi (2-4) See Below
Treasure: NA (see below)
Alignment: True Neutral
No. Appearing: 2-20, 20-200, special
Armor Class: 4
Movement: 9
Hit Dice: 3+2 (foot soldier), 6+3 (officer)
THAC0: 17
No. of Attacks: 1 by weapon foot soldiers, or specialized by weapon officers by level
Damage/Attack: by weapon or 1d4
Special Attacks: Nil
Special Defence: as undead
Magic Resistance: Nil
Size: M
Morale: Fearless (20)

These beings appear at first to be heavily armed and armored dwarves, but upon closer inspection, the faces beneath the helms and other exposed flesh is shirveled and dried looking. The eyes, unlike the lively twinkle of living dwarves, are milky white and dead looking. Their weapons and armor are in excellent repair, though the wear of ages is evident.

Combat: Eternal Guardians fight much as they did in life, in formation and as a group. They fight with the weapons they carried before death (typically short swords, battle axes, or hammers, and every individual carries at least one spear) and the armor is as it was at the time of their interment (typically chain and shield or splint mail). The rank and file foot soldiers' armament are mundane, but officers may (35% chance) carry some magic upon them, typically a magic weapon or armor, though some have been known to have rings, gauntlets, or similar.

In battle, they will fight in perfect battle formation, commanded by any officers present. They display unnerving coordination, turning and wheeling as if by common, silent consent and, indeed, they have a limited form of telepathy amongst themselves within a range of 100 yards and use this ability to communicate tactics and plan changes.

When encountered as a single squad of up to 20, one of thier number will typically be an officer if far from a larger group. In larger groups and armies, there will be one officer for every 30 guardians that will direct the actions of their units. Though no concrete evidence has been brought forth concerning such matters, it is rumored that there are generals amongst their ranks of no less than 9 hit dice and decked in the best armor available. When left on their own and with no direction from the living, Eternal Guardians will attack any non-dwarf who does not bear a symbol of Kerak-Neth, the ancient dwarven capital. Any who surrender will be treated fairly and remain unharmed as long as they behave. Any dwarf with knowledge of the ancient dwarven language who declares himself and his family name can attempt to command the eternal guardians, though this is risky. If such orders conflict with their overal goal of defending the dwarf nation, they will turn their anger against the imposter.

Each eternal guardian has the same immunities as other undead. Further, they are turned as if 3 greater hit dice. They can be commanded only by a dwaven cleric of the Light.

Habit/Society: Usually, unless mustered by the resident priests or military leaders, the Eternal Guardians rest upon their beirs, weapons on their chest and shield at their feet, ready should they be called up. Only the call from a legitimate authority will wake them, or the audacity of any creature that tries to loot them while at rest.

Ecology: When a dwarf declares his devotion to the craft of warfare, he swears and oath to defend the dwarven people forever. Such oaths are taken very seriously, and mere death is no release. Upon a warrior's death, assuming the body is retrievable and relatively whole, it will be prepared by the priests by being packed in dessicating salts and minerals and filled with such material. When the body is completely dried and the organs replaced with salt or sand, it is re-armored and placed upon a shelf along with hundreds of its fellows, there to await need.

Birthright: A Cornerstone of Changing Sensibilities

2009-03-19T10:11:00.000-07:00

I can't say that I don't like the Birthright setting. It's definitely interesting, both in its implied plot (and believe me, there really is a strong hand at work here) and in the ways that it breaks the rules of AD&D 2e to create a unique little experience. The world itself - if you can get past the nigh unpronounceable pseudo-Celtic names that the developers seem so fond of - is quite a nifty little place where dragons are dying out and the mortal races walk the world today infused with the diluted stuff of gods in their veins. It looks like it could be a good deal of fun.

But I will probably never touch it, and not just because I won't find many people in New Jersey who are interested in pulling a campaign together. It's because Birthright, in all its innovative new rules and its shiny boxed intent, represents a betrayal of the core of D&D as I see it, and the enshrinement of all the negative tendencies of storytelling DM's everywhere. It is, more than DragonLance I think, a real symbol of what D&D was to become over the subsequent years.

Ok, that's a bit of a strong statement. It's not like Birthright was the deathknell of tabletop role playing games as we had all grown to love, but it's clear that the assumptions behind the setting were vastly different than those that went into Greyhawk or Forgotten Realms. It was clear that The Grey Mouser had no place in Cerilia as that world was, quite literally, all about the stories of kings and great lords. Handing what was a reward for long and good play 30 years ago to a first level character changed the dynamics of everything. Characters very often have what amount to nothing less than super powers in the form of divine heritage. Such powers range from access to genetic memories at the discretion of the DM (not entirely a bad idea I suppose) to a persistent protection from evil effect all the way up to (and I wish I were joking) shooting laser beams out of their eyeballs. This does not, of course, include the 1st level characters that enter play as literal kings of the realm. Of course, some effort is thrown in to balance things out. It is possible to play a character who is not super, but in order to balance them against those who are, all non-powered individuals are granted a flat +10%XP bonus. Even Joe-Average has special benefits.

It's not so much the fact that the characters are intended to be super powered that bothers me. After all, in Dark Sun - a setting of which I am particularly fond - the characters have ability scores ranging all the way up to 24 and everybody has psionic powers free of charge. It's the mentality that seems to fuel it. In Dark Sun, PC's need those little extra boosts in order to make it through an average day of shopping at the market. In Birthright, it's simply that heroes have powers: end of story. In fact, it's explicitly stated that characters who make due with a mere 10% bonus in XP should be made subordinate to a PC who does have powers and is the ruler of a province/kingdom, or if none of the PC's have such powers, than they become subservient to and NPC of such type as a controling patron. The concept of a patron doesn't bother me overly. They've been a wrench in the DM's toolbox forever, after all. The issue here, though, is that the patron is not so much a gentle nudge from the DM or a usefull tool in guiding the PC's down "the right road," it's an actual superior who gives orders and dictates actions; something that, in my mind, defeats the purpose of adventurers in the first place.

All of that is, in the end, forgivable. After all, who among us hasn't wanted to play a character with special abilities under their sleeves? To play a king or high priest? We're gamers, it's kind of what we do at least some of the time.

However, the big issue is that all of this orbits what we are assured is the core of the setting. Not the exploration of the unknown by rougues with hearts of gold, or the confrontation of evil by relative unknowns, but the game of kings and thrones to borrow a phrase from Mr. GRR Martin. It's a game of political maneuvering, treaties and alliances, and espionage and outright war. It's supposedly AD&D on the macro scale rather than the micro, but in the end, I find that, either by intent or anything else, it becomes dominated by heavy handed plot of the rise and fall of nations more than the individual characters. Even the few modules published for the setting - uniquely bad in their own right - are focused on how to fit them into whatever plot the DM has concocted for the players to follow and that track is, for the most part, laid out clearly from day 0.

This really isn't, in my mind, D&D. It is exactly what it says in the introduction to the source books inside the box: a failed novel by an overeager man graduating with his degree in English Lit.

WEGS

2009-03-17T13:40:00.000-07:00

The group in which I'm a player is going to give WEGS a right and proper go for a while. This is a tabletop game that I got to try out briefly at a demo late last year and I'm definately looking forward to giving it a try under less chaotic circumstances.

WEGS

The 12th Level Cobbler and the 0th Level Pope

2009-03-17T12:12:00.000-07:00

It's one of the most common tendencies I see amongst both new and old schoolers: the tendency to assign greater personal power to greater public station and the tendency to throw character levels onto NPC's that have no earthly business having them in the first place (i.e., the cobblers in Forgotten Realms or any other setting that just happen to be middle or high level fighters or thieves). These are really two issues, but both are sides of the same coin.

Assigning higher character level to more important NPC's is something that Gary Gygax spoke specifically against at one point when he said that 99% of the population of the world were unclassed, unwashed masses. These means that most people the PC's run across should be nothing more than 0 level folk, including the king and all his knights. Players who assume that somebody of higher station is higher level (or any level at all) get what they deserve for such assumptions. Seeking out the highest ranking religious figure in the land assuming that he's capable of raising the dead or curing a disease is likely to end in heartbreak.

Ideally, the PC's should be the most personally powerful individuals in the region, barring the occasional folk passing through civilized lands. Those persons who do have levels either know how to conceal their inherent ability to avoid being plagued by penitents or challenges, are great heroes of legend themselves and have little time for the PC's, or use their abilities for their own ends perhaps becoming villains in their own right.

By the same token, I suppose, DM's feel the need to throw levels onto certain NPC's either in some attempt to preserve their life span just long enough to impart important information (assuming that the players play along the lines of Knights of the Dinner Table) or providing some level of challenge to the players (how tough, exactly, is a 0-level guard to a 5th level fighter after all?). This I can understand a little more. After all, there's very little holding the PC's in check at times but the threat of reprisal from local authorities, but then again, that doesn't mean that all the town guard need to be 3rd level fighters and the captain of the guard a paladin. A squad of guards played by a DM with even a modicum of intelligence can be a threat to a party of any level.

I'm not sure where this urge comes from, but I'm pretty sure it's been there pretty much from the start and the so called "Grognards" are to blame, but it was really the advent of the latter half of AD&D 2nd edition and then truly in 3rd edition that not only institutionalized, but reveled in it. Town descriptions in 3.x actually have a notation indicating what percentage of the populace is what level of NPC class and what level of PC class, and those percentages seemed absurdly high in my view. It was literally no longer acceptable to say that a man was the best blacksmith around, his level of ability must be quantified according to the great and holy rule set. Whatever benefit is derived from that is more than I can see when weighed against the added levels of complexity and book keeping.

Merely the mad ruminations of a delusional and asthmatic mind. If you're still reading this, you must be insane.

The Cleric and the Faith Par II: Simple Dualism

2009-03-16T08:21:00.000-07:00

The next step after "stop worrying and learn to love the class" is largely (OK, entirely) inspired by a house rule either created or carried over by one of my current GM's. I claim no initial creative impetus behind this, merely recognizing a good idea when I see it.

Faced with the same problem I am, he decided to basically invert the method of not worrying and letting every cleric be essentially the same. Instead, he asserted that there were only three religions in the world - Light/Good, Dark/Evil, and Nature - and that all potential deities of the various alignments were a part of one of the three pantheons and that each religions worshiped a whole pantheon (possibly focusing on one deity at times) rather than just an individual figure. The various priests of each religion were restricted in their permissible spells according to their religion: i.e., a priest of the Light could only cast the "positive" version of reversible spells (thus, no Inflict spells or casting Dark) while priests of Darkness could only cast the reversed spells (no casting cure light wounds for them).

What? What do you mean it's not exactly brilliant and innovative?

Ok, it's really not terribly innovative. It's really not, in the end tally, any different than just getting over a perceived fault and learning to love the game. Indeed, I'll be the first to admit that it also has a major fault: it's an example of fitting the game world to the rules rather than the rules to the game world. This is, in my opinion, what has gotten WOTC and Hasbro into such dull and terrible territory. They've created, in 3.x, some Frankenstein's monster of a rule set that veritably demands that the campaign be adjusted to fit the rules because adjusting the rules is either too much hassle or would cause a mass player revolt at perceived "unfairness" and that simply is bad game design. I'm very hesitant to set foot on that path lest it corrupt me.

However, I will say that in practice, it's really quite excellent. Again, it has the benefit of being simple and easily grasped, which is a great thing not only for new players, but for old players too and it's currently the mode I am considering most strongly for Thylia, but taken another step forward.

Instead of lumping the various gods and godesses (and other, genderless divine and semi-divine entities) into three "faiths," I want to strip out all of said deities and leave the frameworks as the net result. Thus, a cleric of the light does not worship a vague pantheon of good aligned deities, a good aligned cleric will worship the ideals of the religion of Light (i.e., goodness, love/agape, etc.) while an evil cleric will follow the tenets of the religion of Darkness (self-interest, evil, etc.). Nature, of course, can be thrown in to turn dualism into . . . "trinarism"? Of course, I've never been able to settle on whether druids actually worship Nature, or worship The Balance as exemplified by Nature. I've always been certain (mostly) that no self-respecting druid would worhship a deity at all and any reference to druidic deities must be chalked up to stupidity, momentary or otherwise.

Whether or not these various faiths are antagonistic towards one another is something that I simply haven't decided. While the idea of followers of Darkness being semi-productive members of society, and the two churches existing side by side, is aluring, it brings up questions that I don't really feel willing to answer, at least not at this point. Such as why otherwise good and civilized peoples tolerate the presence of a religion dedicated to evil acts right under their noses. Or how the two exist side by side without inciting vicious holy wars and blood baths in the streets: maybe they don't, that might be an interesting setup for an adventure. It can certainly add layers of complication and interest, but, in my mind, it seems to detract from an otherwise heroic atmosphere, something that I strive for.

Of course, a major problem with this whole thing is avoiding the Crystal Dragon Jesus meme. Or maybe I don't entirely want to avoid it? This is certainly a way for "normal fantasy" to pop up: an anchor point of semi-normalcy for players to grab hold of while the wierd shit goes on all around them and helps to focus the game less on the fantasy and more on the PC's. This is one of those waffling topics round these parts. Hell, I've actually seriously considered just importing Martin's "Faith of the Seven" whole hog into the game with absolutely no apologies whatsoever.

Well, anyway, next time, talk begins about pantheons of various gods, custom built. I anticipate that discussion to take at least two or three posts of this size or longer to cover, so if you're bored or antagonized by such talk, I apologize now. If you like to listen to me talk about such things, then I have to wonder just how crazy you really are.

Old School Renaissance Picking Up Steam?

2009-03-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

Over at Grognardia*, it seems that the possibilities of the Old School movement are opening up a bit in some ways. James is laying another foundation stone in the Old School toolkit. How's that for mixed metaphores?

I think this is a great idea. I'd love to see this kind of work come out and be cross compatible with Osric and Labyrinth Lord as well (though I imagine it would be less than a nothing to make it so). This is a great tool to add to the kit!

My only concern, here, is that while James is talking about seeing D&D move into completely new realms, he seems to be settling for cloning yet more of the old rules via the facilitation of the SRD/OGL. It's not a bad thing, by any means, to see renewals of what has come before. It's important that these things be refreshed and, since we cannot republish them as is, bringing them out again in renewed format is the best option. However, why are we stopping there?

Instead of settling for another version of Supplement III's psionics rules, I think a better option might be the release of a new set of psionic rules, different than what has gone before. It'd be nice to see, in addition to the recapitulated Supplement III rules, a second section with a completely new take on powers of the mind. Something to get that foundation stone rolling rather than settling for rebuilding Illium.

I know: it's easy to talk about what should be when somebody else is doing the work of putting pen to paper. James isn't really a standard bearer for the movement, or the spiritual leader of the renaissance handing down papal bulls, or neccessarily the guy who even wants to be the one to push this particular stone down the ramp. But in the end, I agree with Geoffrey McKinney. I'm eager to see Supplement VI, VII, and VIII put out, whether in paper copy or PDF. I'm eager to see those new vistas opened up and explored by more creative minds than mine (after all, I came to D&D when the theme was changing from "Imagine the Hell out of it" to "Yeah, we can make a rule/option to support that.").

And say what you will about Carcosa - it's taste, tact, or presumption and I won't even dip my little toe into that debate - it is, I think, exactly what the Old School movement is looking for more of.

Maybe I'm out of line on this, in which case I'll step back and leave it to better minds, but where's Supplement VI that details a world overrun by out of control plant growth with sentient vines and carnivorous fruit? Where's Supplement VII that introduces us to Rune Magic and the fall of the Kthoi? Why is the Old School Renaissance cloning old material and printing occasional modules?

*It might seem like I talk about James a lot and, well, I do. It's not just because I'm a fan of his work, but because he's intelligent and cogent in a way that few are, even when I tend to disagree with him at certain junctures. For whatever reason, and whether intentionally or not, the man has become one of the prime standard bearers for the Old School revolution and as such, when talking about it, it's hard not to talk about, or to, James. What can I say? I admire the guy.

The Cleric and the Faith Part I

2009-03-13T07:23:00.000-07:00

This is not a post about the historical, mythological, or fictional origins and inspirations of the Cleric/Priest class in D&D (specifically at this point, AD&D 2e which is the mode of most mechanics that will appear here). Other, worthier folk either have done this or will do it in the future. I'm not going to ruminate about the appropriateness of the cleric class - a decidedly Christian class (along with the Paladin) in a game that is open to extended pantheons as James over at Grognardia already has pointed out here - or whether or not it should be included in the game here. Whatever chicken hatched from or laid whatever egg is now long past any point of return, in my opinion, as at some point, the practitioner of faith and miracles has now long been an integral part of the game and, in some ways, the fantasy genre at large. Whether it is more native to Pulp Fiction, Modern Fantasy, or Fantasy Gaming than any other is not something I want to debate at this moment.

For right now, I want to talk about how to make the cleric fit the world, and perhaps make the world fit the cleric. Too often I think, the cleric in AD&D, BECMI, and OD&D games gets pigeon-holed into the same corner as the guy that can heal the fighters and maybe ward off the undead from time to time, except in how the player portrays the character. And all to often, the player gets bullied by the rest of the group, or by simple practicality, into falling into that role at least some of the time. Most irksome, to me at least, is that a cleric of Odin looks pretty much like a cleric of Nerull looks a great deal like a cleric of Quetzalcoatl. Why would a cleric of a god of civilization and peace or of romantic love have the same portfolio of powers as a follower of the Dread Cthulhu?

Of course, the first, and simplest answer is to sit back and say "don't worry about it, it's just a freakin' game." And honestly, I can accept that. It's not really a problem that all clerics, despite their object of worship (or too often, lack thereof) wield identical powers. After all, for the most part a fighter is a fighter no matter what race he belongs to, the same for a thief for that matter. It simplifies things greatly, especially in a game system where simplicity is a major goal like Basic/Labyrinth Lord, or Swords and Wizardry.

The problem, for me, emerges when it's just not acceptable to ignore this bit of wrinkle. Many times (not always) I want clerics of various deities or faiths to be not just different in lip service, but truly unique. I want the players to wonder and guess at what powers the cleric of Random Death Cult Z are and how to prepare before facing him. Or, I want an in world explanation of why all clerics are all the same mechanically.

Is this multiplying entities? Yeah, it is, but I think that, done carefully, it can lead to more fulfilling games from my perspective as the GM, and more interesting (read "dangerous) games for the players. Does this tread dangerously close to the Third Edition mantra of "no choice without a mechanical benefit"? Yes, but I'm ok with that for the time being. Like I said way back in the beginning, I think that there's something to be said for everything in moderation. That, and I feel that I can draw a line in the sand before I arrive at feats, domain powers, and "optimization."

Up tomorrow sometime: Manicheism.

Inspirational Art

2009-03-10T09:37:00.001-07:00

I've been looking for this little bit of awesome for a while now. It's an image from a computer game that failed to see publication a while back. Otherwise unremarkable except for this picture.

Very cool.

The Wyf

2009-03-09T13:42:00.000-07:00

Heht mec mon wunian on wuda bearwe
I was bid to remain in a wood grove

under ÿctrÿo in þÿm eorðscræfe.
under a tree in this cave.

Eald is þes eorðsele, eal iÿ eom oflongad.
Ancient is this cave-dwelling, I am consumed with longing.

Sindon dena dimme, dÿna ÿphÿa,
T he vallyes are dark, the hills high,

bitre burgtÿnas brÿrum beweaxne,
the cruel town enclosure with briars is grown over,

wÿÿ wynna lÿas.
the dwelling place is joyless.

Ful oft mec hÿr wrÿþe beÿeat
Very often here I am bitterly seized because of the

fromsÿþ frÿan. Frÿnd sind on eorþan
departure of my lord. Is my lover

lÿofe lifÿende, leÿer weardiað,
occupying his own death bed,

þonne iÿ on ÿhtan ÿna gonge
when I at dawn walk alone

under ÿctrÿo ÿeond þÿs eorðscrafu.
under and oaktree through these graves.

Þÿr iÿ sittan mÿt sumorlangne dæÿ;
There I must sit as long as a summer's day;

þÿr iÿ wÿpan mæÿ mÿne wræcsÿþas,
there I must weep for my wretched journey

earfoþa fela, for þon iÿ ÿfre ne mæÿ
my troubles are many, for I have never

þÿre mÿdÿeare mÿnre ÿerestan,
had rest from my grief,

ne ealles þæs longaþes þe mec on þissum lÿfe beÿeat.
not wholly, since my life began.

Aside from the infrequent stand of birch or larch, deciduous trees are rare in the boreal forests south of Tannhauser for many days' journey. There is, however, an oak perched upon an ancient mound about 5 days march south-west of the stronghold. No other trees grow near or on the mound, but all about is covered in thick briars making any approach slow lest one become tangled.

At the base of the mound, a rough opening leads into an unfinished chamber carved beneath and between the roots of the great oak overhead. No insects or vermin will enter the mound at all and, it is said, that no wise man or dwarf will either, for within dwells the Wyf.*

The crone (for so she appears) is known only as Wyf for she will give no name, but commonly refers to a lost mate. She will happily entertain any guests that arrive, offering collected rain water to drink, and will talk seemingly endlessly about meaningless trivia and gossip that was current perhaps a hundred years prior. She will often tell of other guests that she has hosted, including some recognizable names from local legend, but mostly unknown men and women whose lives she will recount with great detail and accuracy if prompted.

Most information she gives for free will be virtually useless, only enough to tantalize. To divulge anything of worth, details of less than mundane sort that are already known by her audience, the Wyf expects a gift: something of great value to the giver, though not neccessarily of great intrinsic worth. Near the back of her cave, she keeps a sizable hoard of trinkets, gew-gaws, and oddements from previous visitors: lengths of thread, ribbons, shards of glass, a coin from the Telerian empire, an icon of an obscure and mostly forgotten saint, and other paraphenalia. If asked to display her treasures, she will happily do so, but will only show the most mundane items, unless payment is first received in kind.

Once her payment is received, the Wyf will divulge the information sought which will be 95% accurate and in the form of cryptic riddles, stories, or songs. When inaccurate, it will always be of missing data rather than outright falsehood. Information about the location of a lost and powerful artifact will, for example, take the form of a long and meandering tale of its last posessor, taking many detours to talk about ancillary characters or only vaguely related material, but buried within all of it will be a small kernel of truth that a wise and discerning man might be able to use as the beginnings of a roadmap to finding the artifact. In the end, it is up to the guest to decipher and use what the Wyf gives them, and it is the stuff of great heroes, it is said, the ability to untangle these vague and seemingly meaningless clues. Great fortune and fame can be had by correctly interpreting the Wyf's clues, and grave misfortune from mistaking them.

The Wyf shows no favortism, is objective to a fault some say, when payment has been rendered. She will advise bitter enemies alike, sometimes simultaneously, with no regard as to protestations of right and wrong, good or evil. Her tales and riddles, she says, are for all who seek them and can afford them. Within her home, she will brook no violence of any sort: guests are expected to behave themselves, and though she is frail and easily slain by a single weapon strike, it is known that she has the ability to back up this rule with force. Those who incur her displeasure - by demanding aid without a guest gift first, by initiating or perpetuating violence within her home, by rifling through or attempting to steal her cache of things, slaying her or not at least attempting to stop such an act, or perhaps simply by being rude - suffer one of the most dreaded curses known in the civilized, or uncivilized, world.

Mere hours after the incident, a mark will appear on the perpetrator's face in a location not easily concealed. The mark will conspire at any time to be visible: a hood will blow back in the breeze, a mask will slip, etc. Those who view the mark will immediately and forcefully shun the afflicted individual, turning him away at the city gates and refusing him entrance, refusing to cooperate or provide food and shelter for any reason, even going so far as to seek to kill the individual. A marked person will find no respite, aid, or welcome among any of the people of Thylia. Not even the orcs and goblins dare to tempt the evil of this curse and are most savage in dealing with it. Those bearing the mark are forced to wander the world, never staying in one place too long lest they be discovered and attacked by the virtually any sentient being capable of seeing the symbol.

It is unknown if there is a way of removing the curse. Perhaps the Wyf herself would be willing to answer this question, but nobody has ever asked, or if they did, nobody has ever revealed it. Perhaps one of the Mound Folk, to whose ancient writings the symbol bears a striking similarity, but again, it is difficult to find one of those folk in the first place let alone one willing - or able - to answer such a question.

*Yes, anybody with even a passing familiarity with Old English/Anglo Saxon will recognize that word, not to mention the reference. So sue me.

Watchmen

2009-03-07T05:52:00.000-08:00

When I first saw Dawn of the Dead in the theater at some silly Halloween function in town, I was startled about halfway into the film by a voice behind me. We all turned to see a young blonde woman with a look of sudden epiphany on her face say to the theater at large: "Oh! It's, like, about buying stuff and, like, junk!" We all chuckled at her and went back to the movie, but I do remember feeling some absurd pride at her ability to figure out that there was more going on screen than just antrhopophagic zombies lurching around a mall. If I ever see her again, I don't think I could resist the urge to walk up to her and stick a grade school style gold star on the tip of her nose and give her a pat on the head.

Yesterday afternoon, as I sat through Watchmen in the theater, a "gentleman" behind me uttered the phrase "Dude . . . I can see the blue guy's junk!" And as much as the girl years ago will forever embody how it feels to me to watch Dawn of the Dead, this high school truant boy will forever embody how it feels to me to watch Watchmen.

Snyder certainly knows what the graphic novel looks like as we are treated to repeated panel for panel replications of the original graphic novel: indeed, faithful to the point of a near mastabatory fantasy on the part of the director. We're constantly referred to how faihtfully he can replicate the look of the comic, but completely fail to even hint at its depth. The constant rephrain from the director is blatantly "Look! Just like in the comic book!" and, indeed, "Look! Dr. Manhattan's junk!"

Of course not everything's bad about the movie. Indeed, when it's not horribly fumbling what are, in my mind, the most crucial points of the original novel, it's doing a fabulous job at doing what it does well: looking like Watchmen.

While Billy Crudup simply does not have the gravitas to be Dr. Manhattan, he and his makeup artist do an excellent job in at least making him look the part, especially in his John Osterman phases. Jeffrey Dean Morgan simply IS the Comedian. He doesn't so much as inhabit the part as become it and manages it with perfectly, complete with the casual brutality so integral. Matthew Goode certainly cuts a dashing figure as Ozymandias and much the same can be said for Malin Ackerman as Laurie/Silk Specter II. Patrick Wilson manages to be NightOwl II pretty much alone on the screen as nobody else can actually play opposite him except Haley.

Haley deserves his own paragraph since, in a way that Morgan can only dream of, he manages to breath real life into Roarshach. We aren't treated to little visual clues of the character appearing multiple times in the same frame as in the graphic novel, but whenever the masked man is on screen, he dominates it entirely, to the point that when he is supposed to fade into the background the director is forced to cut him from the image entirely so that Goode can look regal as Ozymandias. Despite the total botch of his genesis (I'll not ruin what, exactly, does happen in the film, but suffice to say it changes the character irrevocably), Roarshach is easily the best thing about the film in its entirety.

I won't go through every little thing about the film as most of it is subjective in the extreme and is up to everyone to decide for themselves. However, I think one of the most universal failings of the movie is the soundtrack. Snyder has decided that a movie about the 80's simply wouldn't be any good without identifiably 80's songs. Taken on their own, the songs are great. Who doesn't get at least the tiniest thrill upon hearing "99 Luftbaloons"? But in context, they were so poorly handled that it was distracting. Said "99 Luftbaloons" backs up what would otherwise be a romantic and pleasant dinner date. Its addition seems determined to turn it into comedy. As for the love scene aboard Archie, my advice is to close your eyes, put your fingers in your ears, and just wait for it to be over. Snyder, you should have stuck with the Smashing Pumpkins song from your trailer. It was far superior.

A minor complaint, I'm not sure why Snyder felt the need to turn Nixon into a parody in this movie, but it was a disservice. Watching his lookalike on the big screen make jokes about the nuking of the entire east coast is jarring and detracts greatly from the layers of depth that were present in the original source material. Perhaps worse is the fact that, while in the original, Nixon backs off of actually ordering the launch, in the movie, he does so with an almost gleeful expression. Whether or not you like the actual Nixon, the character's portrayal in the movie is a letdown.

Perhaps they were right in that this was the unfilmable graphic novel.

Just one last note: it should go without saying to those of us who actually know what's in the story, but this is absolutely not a movie to bring a child to. There were several in the theater I was in, and all but one of them ran screaming from the theater within 30 minutes. Parents, please take the "R" rating seriously on this one.

Leery of the Whole Mega-Dungeon . . . Thing

2009-03-07T04:47:00.000-08:00

It's a staple of the old school revival, supposedly, the 'tent-pole mega-dungeon' around which the entire campaign is based. As a player, it's a great deal of fun to remember "the hobgoblins on the 3rd level" and how you tricked them into the lair of the dragon on the 4th, thus eliminating two problems in one fell swoop. And I suppose that it's a lot of fun on the part of the GM to showcase everything he has in one easily accessible location, complete with convenient adventuring town no more than a day's journey away. From all this perspective, I like the idea of a mega-dungeon.

However, the mega-dungeon has always cramped my style so to speak. It's always impinged upon my sensibilities of how things "should" go. There's nothing wrong with a large "dungeon" per se, but I'm always plagued by the questions of what function the dungeon originally had before it was inhabited by goblins, kobolds, orcs, and etc. What did it do? Why was it built? In a way, I'm always a bit like Gollum, always worrying at the roots of things, looking for the beginnings of things. In the end, I look at the dungeons, crypts, and caverns in my own campaigns as all having functions, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that from a strictly functional standpoint, smaller is better.

From the point of view of "normal fantasy" why, if you were going to build a prison would you build a monstrously huge structure twelve levels deep with the possibility of unexpected entrances all over when, in fact, a small shell keep with a few dozen iron barred cells in the center would do immeasurably better? What in the world would posses somebody, or several somebodies, to dig out a massive twelve level complex the size of a metropolis and just as densely populated? It would be a massive waste of resources when something a tenth that size would do. Even the Tower of London, one of the most infamous prisons of the Middle Ages and sometimes residence of the royal family, is remarkably small. Even Château d'If wasn't particularly massive (something on the order of three or four main levels and a tower or two).

Why are we so eager to fall into the mantra of more is better when, from my perspective, more is too often simply that: more.

Don't get me wrong, I believe there's nothing wrong with large dungeons, as long as there's a believable rational behind them. History has its fair share of them including the sewers and catacombs of Paris, the Underground system of London, and any number of such places that, if I were either brave or stupid . . . or both . . . I might love to explore. I have the germinating seed of an ancient dwarven city, decimated by a plauge centuries ago, through which the last few undead wander performing whatever task they did in life endlessly, crowding out other, more important things in my head: like the password to the database at work.

But in the end, I'm a great believer that there's more bang for the buck in smaller, more meaningful locations. Places that are more than just "the dungeon" and I as the GM don't have to make excuses for the players to go to but they naturally, if reluctantly at times, head for. That castle on the hill that they've been skirting around now for almost a year (of actual play!) that they know they will eventually have to enter and they're sure that whatever they find in there they're not going to like. One of the greatest "dungeons" of all time, I think, was straight out of Beowulf, the Dragon's Barrow in which the treasure of a long lost people rested and the eponymous wyrm brooded over the loss of a single cup from its discovered hoard. Beowulf didn't run off to slay the dragon because here was another chance at adventure and glory. I've always been able to hear quietly in the background the great king mumbling "awe crap, here's yet another thing I have to go kill because some idiot thief couldn't keep his fingers in his pockets when I'd rather be enjoying a good cup of strong wine, idiot peasants never had it so good. . ."

"Adventurer" should never be a legitimate career choice. At best, to the world around them, these persons are little better than wandering vagabonds. They're obviously dangerous, carry large numbers of weapons, meddle readily with the forces of darkness and break the laws of nature on a whim. Nothing sticks in my craw more than reading published modules that have as their hook the idiotic premise that the local king or lord is seeking to actually locate and hire these idiots who are followed by danger and misfortune like a stray puppy. The most common phrase an adventurer should know is "We thank you for killing Thorbald the Dark, Unleasher of Plagues, but would you kindly now get the hell out? You're frightening the townfolk."

By the same token, I as the GM (and often as a player) have some overriding urge to see things make sense. Why are there kobolds, orcs, goblins, hobgoblins, a red dragon, 13 carrion crawlers, two rust monsters, and 37 rot grubs all living in such close proximity to each other without there being an all out furball conflict between them all? Why in the world aren't they all seeking the seclusion of their own? For that matter, why in the world would they be moving into a large dungeon complex filled to the brim with clever tricks and traps of the ancients when a nice, quiet, untrapped location could be theirs for the taking?

In the end, I think that a mega-dungeon raises more questions than I, as a GM, am prepared to answer. It feels too much like laying all my cards out on the table in one giant pile rather than carefully playing them in a slow game, one corner at a time so that the players aren't sure if they're looking at the corner of a seven of clubs, or a nine.