Blood of Prokopius

Map: Manor House

2012-01-26T15:30:00.003-06:00

I have been re-tooling some of my work on my version of the Chateau des Faussesflammes, concentrating primarily on the ruins that are above the dungeons below. The first step I took was to make a map of the Chateau (which is really a manor house) prior to its ruination. This way I can make various adjustments, depending on when the Chateau is entered.

This manor house sits atop a hill. The stairs lead up to the front terrace and there is a ramp leading up to the back terrace. The fortifications (including the barracks at the front and the towers at the back) are later additions. Originally built during a time of stability and peace, the fortifications became necessary as the Merovingian dynasty declined from its apex. Though it adapted an already existing space, the chapel is also a later addition, after the line adopted Christianity.

Here is the map itself:

Here is a rough key:

Entrance Hall
Inner Court/Garden
Sitting Room
Music Room
Storage
Kitchen
Storage
Servant's Dining Room
Servant's Foyer
Powder Room
Sitting Room
Great Hall
Gallery
Trophy Room
Dancing Room
Dancing Room
Dining Hall
Storage
Trophy Room
Coat Room
Storage
Gallery
Dining Hall
Storage
Trophy Room
Coat Room
Gallery
Study
Sitting Room
Changing Room
Training Room
Changing Room
Sitting Room
Reception Room
Study
Narthex
Chapel; a=Vestry
Reception Room
Study
Reading Room
Library
Secret Study
Front Terrace (protected by a portcullis)
Back Terrace
Tower
Entrance Ramp
Barracks; a=Soldier's Quarters; b=NCO Quarters; c=Officer's Quarters; e=Guard Room

Stairs labelled with 'd' go down and those with 'u' go up.

Saintly Saturday: Panagia Paramythea

2012-01-21T06:00:00.010-06:00

The name Panagia Paramythea (roughly translated as All-Holy Comforter) refers to a miraculous icon of the Virgin Mary found on Mt. Athos at the Vatopedi monastery. It is differentiated from the most common icon of the Virgin Mary because rather than looking towards the viewer’s right and having the Christ child blessing, as in this icon:

the Virgin is looking to the viewer’s left and is pulling the Christ child’s hand away from her mouth:

On January 21, 807 pirates had secretly landed on shore near the monastery. In hiding, they were waiting for the gates to open in the morning to launch an attack. The abbot, alone in prayer in the chapel where the icon was heard the Virgin Mary warn him of the impending attack:

Do not open the gates today, but go up on the walls and drive away the pirates.

Looking up at the icon, from where he heard the voice, he saw that the Virgin had turned her head toward him and the Christ child was reaching up to cover her mouth (the icon originally looked like the first icon above). Christ then spoke:

No, Mother, do not watch over this sinful flock, let them fall under the swords of the pirates and be punished as they deserve.

The Virgin then reached up and pulled Christ’s hand from her mouth to repeat her warning. The monks, thus forewarned, were able to repel the pirates and the icon has remained as seen above in the second icon ever since.

This is another feast that is personal to me, because I have spent time at Vatopedi and I have seen this icon with my own eyes. Today it has been given a protective, silver cover but one can still see the faces of both the Virgin and Christ as they were when this miracle happened in A.D. 807.

From a theological point of view, this icon and others that have similarly changed from their original form, reinforce what Orthodox Christianity believes about icons — they are the personal presence of Christ and the saints depicted. The Virgin and Christ could speak through the icon because they are personally present through the icon.

In context of my musings this past week on the Mythical Underworld and Mythical Geography, this particular icon demonstrates that, at least within a Christian context, the ever changing nature of the The Dungeon need not be malicious. As levels and sub-levels are cleared, positive transformations can come upon those areas explored. It also demonstrates that Sword & Sorcery, Horror and Weird Fantasy do not have a monopoly on the weird.

Okay WotC, You Officially Have My Attention

2012-01-19T14:04:00.000-06:00

I have to say that I am very pleasantly surprised by the news that WotC will be re-releasing the AD&D core books in April. Unfortunately, it is a limited print run that is only available through local game stores here in North America. This means I may very well be unable to give WotC money for one of their products for the first time in over a decade. The closest game store to me is over an hour away and with my commitments to both family and career that means making a special trip, something I cannot guarantee.

Personally, I hope that there are plenty of others that can purchase these, if only to prove that there is a demand for items in the D&D library that have long been out of print. I say this in hopes that the hobby will see WotC roll out other items in that library that I would make a special trip for. As others have suggested, I would love to see compilations of modules.

To be honest, my enthusiasm for this news is somewhat curbed by the choice of what to re-release. I do not play AD&D with any consistency when compared to those editions that came with soft covers. I still own good copies of all three AD&D core books and have no burning need to spend that kind of money for second (if brand new) copies. My various copies of those soft cover editions, however, are not in nearly as good a shape. As much as I love the various retro-clones (especially LL), I am always going back to the original B/X, Holmes and OD&D rulebooks to look at art, muse about original rules and otherwise wish that they were in good enough condition to regularly bring them to the table. For the purposes of giving the Hobby as a whole a tremendous gift, I hope these softcover editions could see their own re-release with hard covers to help preserve them for generations to come. One can hope. I would also be remiss if I didn't mention pdfs...

Having said that, I greatly appreciate why WotC chose the AD&D core books. They don't need to reformat, they closely mimic the WotC core book model (PH, MM, DMG) and of all the various editions to re-release, they can make the most money off of these three books.

In the meantime, I am now paying attention to what WotC is doing — something that I didn't believe would ever happen. Lets hope that this good will and good news continues.

Lazy Post — 23 Questions

2012-01-18T13:30:00.002-06:00

A couple of folks have chimed in with their answers, so here are mine:

1. If you had to pick a single invention in a game you were most proud of what would it be?
That boring Sword +1 might just be an elf of the Winter Court trying to escape mortality.

2. When was the last time you GMed?
November.

3. When was the last time you played?
Last Saturday.

4. Give us a one-sentence pitch for an adventure you haven't run but would like to.
The Brainlashers need your help — the great machine that kept their inter-dimensional uber-gate from tearing giant holes in time and space has been destroyed.

5. What do you do while you wait for players to do things?
I usually chime in with what the NPC henchmen and followers think about the situation.

6. What, if anything, do you eat while you play?
Somebody will usually show up with leftovers, cookies or pizza.

7. Do you find GMing physically exhausting?
Physically, no. Mentally, Yes. There have been plenty of times when I have come into the game physically exhausted and I haven’t noticed a difference in how I feel physically, but having to improvise always takes its mental toll.

8. What was the last interesting (to you, anyway) thing you remember a PC you were running doing?
Talking with what every other character thought was a god while insisting that it was merely an angel at best and a demon at worst. (I survived too!)

9. Do your players take your serious setting and make it unserious? Vice versa? Neither?
No, all my players like to immerse themselves into the reality of the world. We tend to be goofy out of game.

10. What do you do with goblins?
In the Lost Colonies, goblins are creatures who desperately feel the need to attach themselves to some creature more powerful than they are. They understand themselves to be so pathetic that unless they have something like an ogre, troll or dragon to “back them up” they have no courage what so ever.

11. What was the last non-RPG thing you saw that you converted into game material (background, setting, trap, etc.)?
A painting by Romanian artist Sever Frentiu.

12. What's the funniest table moment you can remember right now?
The Halfling war cry: No one insults a Halfling’s cheese and lives!

13. What was the last game book you looked at--aside from things you referenced in a game--why were you looking at it?
Mr. Stater’s Pars Fortuna has a simplified version of feats called boons. I wanted to use them as an inspiration for my own musings about feats.

14. Who's your idea of the perfect RPG illustrator?
Anyone who is willing to do their stuff in B&W.

15. Does your game ever make your players genuinely afraid?
Yes. I gleefully play up those things that creep out my players and am quite guilty of having creatures crawling around my worlds that PCs have no business messing with.

16. What was the best time you ever had running an adventure you didn't write? (If ever)
Roshia’s Gauntlet by Dave Dollar. It is an independently published funhouse adventure from back in the day that has a specific goal — seeing if the characters are worthy to have a powerful wizard as a patron.

17. What would be the ideal physical set up to run a game in?
I’d love to game in a high-ceiling room with lots of natural light with everyone comfortably ensconced in big fluffy sofas and chairs.

18. If you had to think of the two most disparate games or game products that you like what would they be?
Empire Builder (Mayfair’s Railroad simulation board game) and GURPS Traveller.

19. If you had to think of the most disparate influences overall on your game, what would they be?
The Bible and HPL.

20. As a GM, what kind of player do you want at your table?
The kind who is unafraid to be wildly creative.

21. What's a real life experience you've translated into game terms?
I've used my time on Mt. Athos to translate both the monastic lifestyle and the physical properties of the monasteries themselves into my games.

22. Is there an RPG product that you wish existed but doesn't?
No. There are so many wildly awesome products out today that far surpass my own idea of the possible that for me to wish for anything else would be disingenuous.

23. Is there anyone you know who you talk about RPGs with who doesn't play? How do those conversations go?
Not really. I think this is one of the reasons I blog — it gives me an outlet to geek out that I would otherwise not have.

Old School Feats

2012-01-17T10:19:00.001-06:00

Forgive me, but I just cannot find the original quote that inspired this post. Someone, somewhere observed that 1e, with its insistence on high stats in order to “not suck” was the first (and only?) edition to cater to those who want to do character builds (because all of the various methods for rolling up characters in the DMG all end up there) as well as those who want the dice to roll where they will and play with it.

Since I play with both kinds of players, this got me thinking about ways to update this characteristic of 1e so as to be able to scratch the character build itch without affecting either the streamlined nature of old school play or the ability to let the dice roll and play whatever comes up.

In order for this to work, every characteristic needs to have a combat bonus/penalty associated with it. I postulated something along these lines here. These, of course, would affect all classes.

Then, there would be a series of feat-like bonuses attached to each characteristic depending upon class. Players would be able to pick one or two of these feats, the effectiveness of which would be tied to the characteristic. Thus, they can only be taken advantage of if the characteristic has a bonus.

For example, here is a rough draft for feat-like abilities that can be associated with the B/X; LL magic-user:

Str = 1, 2 or 3 spells cast per day by the magic user have their durations doubled.
Dex = 1, 2 or 3 spells cast per day by the magic-user with an area effect have that area doubled.
Con = The magic-user may use 1, 2 or 3 weapons or armor chosen at character creation that they are not normally able to use. In the case of armor, leather must be chosen first and chainmail is the heaviest armor a magic-user can wear and be able to cast spells.
Int = 1, 2 or 3 spells per day with variable effects cast by the magic user have maximum effect.
Wis = The magic-user can store 1, 2 or 3 spells that can be spontaneously cast in place of a memorized spell of equal or greater spell level per day.
Cha = 1, 2 or 3 spells per day cast by the magic user require two successful saving throws to save versus the spell.

This could be done with every class. Assuming that a typical character has two characteristics with bonuses, there is a huge range of options combining combat bonuses with feat-like abilities, thus offering plenty of different character builds per class for those that like to scratch that itch. It also gives more variety of surprise for those who like their characters to be random. Finally, these feat-like abilities can be tailored to campaign-worlds if Referee so desires.

Thoughts?

Some Under-Appreciated Mythical Geography

2012-01-16T13:54:00.000-06:00

Last month, Beedo of Dreams of the Lich House mused about Mythic Geography for FRPG settings. I have been meaning to muse myself on the subject, but life has delayed this endeavor until now.

Several of the examples that Beedo uses to make his point are (of course) from mythology — especially those most readily familiar like those of the Greeks and the Norse. As evocative as those might be, I think a particularly useful and suggestive mythical geography that gets discounted either out of hand or out of ignorance is that of the Old Testament. Take a look at this popular imagining of OT cosmology:

Note that it is easy to see with this image how both Tolkien's Undying Lands and Lloyd Alexander's Summer Lands can be reached by the right kind of sailing ship — sail the Waters above the Firmament and you might reach the Heavens.

These same waters might be used to sail to the stars and the planets surrounding them. One might have to climb the Pillars of Heaven to set sail, however. The Underworld is well represented by Sheol; however, there is a secondary, potentially more frightening area — the Abyss. What strange creatures lie within the waters at the bottom of the Pillars of the Earth?

For those that wish to follow in Beedo's footsteps and expand the Mythic beyond The Dungeon, I invite you to consider the imaginings of the writers of the Old Testament. You might be surprised at how rich an imagination it is.

Saintly Saturday: The Holy Fathers slain at Sinai and Raitho

2012-01-14T06:00:00.001-06:00

Today is the feast of the Holy Fathers slain at Sinai and Raitho, which are a pair of monasteries in the Sinai Peninsula. This feast actually remembers two separate events where monks were slaughtered by nomadic tribes. One massacre happened at the end of the fourth century and the other occurred in the middle of the fifth century.

This feast is very personal to me. In the ancient church, one of the primary places that Christians would gather to worship was around the grave sites of saints — particularly the martyrs. During those periods where it was legal for them to build churches, they often did so where they had worshipped — over the relics of the saints. This is where the tradition of naming church buildings after saints comes from. In order to keep a connection to this practice, the Orthodox Church places relics of a saint within the altar table at the consecration of a church. I have only had the privilege of taking part in one consecration. The relics of one of the Fathers of Sinai and Raitho was placed in the altar — an altar at which I worshipped for many years.

What I find interesting about this feast is that the hymnody plays up a thematic trope that lies very close to the heart of D&D and the pulp fantasy that inspired it — Civilization versus the Wilderness:

Greatly did you struggle, O Saints of God: while courageously enduring the barbarians’ attacks, you laid down your very lives with eager zeal before their swords... — From the Stichera of Vespers

The desert you made a city through devotion to God… — From the Kathisma of Matins

Thus, Civilization is personified by the monks and the Wilderness not only by the violence of the barbarians, but also by the desert in which the monks built their monasteries.

In the geography of Genesis, the Tree of Life is at the center of a fenced garden which lies in the middle of a plain (Eden). Across from Eden lies the Wilderness (Nod). In the Wilderness demons reside — one interpretation of the scapegoat (literally for Azazel) in Leviticus 16:8 is that it is sent out into the desert where the demon Azazel lives to be devoured.

The Greek word for wilderness and desert is έρημος which literally means a desolate and lonely place. It is the root for both hermit and eremitic — that type of monasticism practiced by hermits. Thematically, therefore, monastics are Christian adventurers who go out into the Wilderness to fight the monsters that live there. The monasteries that they build are akin to the Keep on the Borderlands — outposts of civilization.

Both monastics and the typical D&D adventurer represent the people who have the requisite temperament and skills to make the Wilderness safe for the rest of us. They are the ragtag front line that take the fight to the dangers that live just across the way in the Land of Nod.

In other words, the classic pattern of D&D where parties of adventures go deep underground or out into the lands dominated by beings of evil and Chaos is a metaphor for the monastic endeavor of living in the desert, because monasticism — seen in terms of the geography of Genesis — is a metaphor for Civilization vs. the Wilderness.

Meditating on The Mythic Underground

2012-01-13T13:52:00.001-06:00

One of the more interesting aspects of OD&D, as interpreted by various corners of the OSR, is its portrayal of the Dungeon as the Mythic Underworld. For those unfamiliar with this particular theme I suggest Philotomy’s musings on the subject here. I, myself, have played with this interpretation in my own musings about the Holmes Basic Edition here and here.

In the classic mythological trope, the hero finds it necessary to descend into the Underworld in order to obtain something vital in order to achieve their overall quest. This could be information, an item, a skill or even a person. The hero emerges, changed and readied to take on the rest of their quest.

D&D (particularly in its B/X form) emulates this trope very well. The early levels of character development occur primarily in the Dungeon, where they obtain magic items, maps and experience. Once they reach 4th level or so, the characters emerge ready to take on the rest of their quest — explore and tame the Wilderness in order to build a stronghold.

I mention this, especially my own musing on the Holmesian version of the Dungeon (an ever-changing and unconquerable place that is almost a character unto itself), because Christianity takes this classic tale of the hero and turns it on its ear. Christ — the hero figure of the Christian story — does not descend into the Underworld in order to gain some special object or skill. He descends into the Underworld in order to conquer.

Greek Shorthand for Christ Conquers

For He crushed the gates of bronze and shattered the bars of iron — Psalm 107:16 (cf. Isaiah 45:2)

For as Jonah remained in the belly of the sea-monster for three days and three nights, so will the Son of man be in the heart of the earth for three day and three nights. — Matthew 20:14

In the body He was put to death, in the spirit he was raised to life, and, in the spirit, he went to preach to the spirits in prison. — 1Peter 3:18-19

In other words, the implied pattern of dungeon-delving in context of the Christian story is not just exploration, but restoration. This flies in the face of the Mythic Underground as understood by Philotomy and my own understanding of the Dungeon in Holmes.

Given that I am very interested in a Holmesian Underworld as well as playing in a Christian context, I have been trying to meditate on how to reconcile these two divergent views of the Hero and the Underworld. Part of my thinking in this direction is inspired by the general move that the OSR has made in recent months toward the Weird.

In a world where the Dungeon is a semi-intelligent and ever-changing NPC (Holmes), it makes sense to understand that part of this change can be imposed. What if, when a level or a sub-level of a dungeon were cleared (and thus restored) or otherwise "rescued" that it physically moved from the underworld to the surface world? In context of a dungeon beneath a city, these dungeon levels could be additional neighborhoods that spring up. In context of a dungeon in the wilderness, the levels could be ruins restored to full functionality. The more of the dungeon that is restored, the more Civilization takes root and the more Wilderness (whether on the surface or in the underworld) retreats.

The Dungeon would then change in response to the foray by the adventurers. Either the next level could "move up" or another level or sub-level could spring up in its place. Thus, the semi-intelligent and ever-changing Dungeon of Holmes can actually play a vital role in the context of the Christian hero story.

Meditating on Pathfinder

2012-01-09T21:20:00.000-06:00

Since the Big News of the day is the advent of 5e D&D, I thought I’d buck the trend and speak about one of the reasons why Hasbro has been forced in this particular direction in the first place — Pathfinder. (Besides which, Jeff Rients pretty much sums up everything I might say on the subject with his open letter to WotC).

As I have said several time before, I play with a bunch of guys who were introduced to the hobby via 3e. I have split time running campaigns with other guys, depending on who has an itch to run a game. When I first began doing this, the other campaigns we played were 3.5 games. More recently, these games have been 1st ed AD&D. Well, a couple of the guys from our group have been getting the urge to go back to their roots and play a little 3.5.

For the most part, the group wasn’t all that interested. Our table very much likes the fast-paced combat achievable with earlier editions. The amount of stuff that can be accomplished in an evening of gaming using LL or AD&D far outstrips what we did while using 3.5. Thus, the whole discussion was a bit of a non-starter. That is, until someone brought up the possibility of playing Pathfinder using the Kingmaker Adventure Path.

I happen to really like Paizo, their attitude and their relationship they have with the community. I even gave my two cents during the open play test of Pathfinder. Thus, though I have never had occasion to purchase any of their products, I have rooted for them. The closest I ever came to actually forking over part of my limited gaming budget to them was when they published the Kingmaker Adventure Path. It intrigued me to no end — I wanted to see how one would go about doing a sandbox with a complex ruleset like Pathfinder.

So, when one of our guys volunteered to run it, I was actually very interested to see what would happen. Due to life issues, we decided to take a short break from my own campaign to take advantage of my own relatively busy schedule in December and his own relatively light schedule to go all in for the last month with Pathfinder.

The campaign has been relatively successful. Pathfinder does all the things 3.5 does well better. I say this with one caveat. Having had experienced the abstract combat style of LL, our GM has adopted several of the conventions that we use while playing LL. This speeds things up considerably and still allows for some crunch for those that want it (and who needs to pull out maps and figures for most wilderness encounters anyway?) In addition, our GM adjudicates all skill rolls — he either rolls them himself or simply arbitrarily declares success. This has had the wonderful side affect of encouraging more role playing than roll playing.

Unfortunately, Pathfinder still suffers from many of the flaws that 3.5 does. Personally, I would not wish to invest the kind of time necessary to ever run a Pathfinder campaign. In addition, we have averaged one character death per session (something we have grown accustomed to with older editions). The problem is that even when a player knows what they are doing, creating a new character takes forever. We have alleviated this a bit by having NPCs available to play. This strategy, while fine with old-school guys like myself, defeats one of the reasons why some of our group (and a whole segment of gamers) like to play 3.5 & Pathfinder— testing character builds against game conditions.

If I am honest, I can greatly sympathize with this particular mindset because I have spent many an hour doing various kinds of builds to test in game play. The major difference between my own gaming experience and those who enjoy this aspect of 3.5/Pathfinder play is that the major outlet I have had over my gaming life has been through various war games.

Car Wars, Starmada, ARES and Renegade Legion (Interceptor) among others are all games that I spent lots of time making builds and then testing them in game play. I did the same with two what are ostensibly RPGs but more often than not my friends and I used with arena combat scenarios to test character builds — Champions and GURPS. The most common scenario my friends and I ran with Champions was the Danger Room — which is, in essence, a war game. The only original version of GURPS I still own is its precursor Man to Man — an arena-type war game that uses what would become the GURPS combat system.

Thus, that occasional itch to make what in 3.5/Pathfinder are character builds I scratch with war games or RPGs that can be played as war games. It makes me wonder if the cultural divide between 3.5/4th ed players and earlier edition players is in part a generational thing. Guys my age grew up with war games — I had certainly played several different war games prior to ever hearing about D&D. The guys I now play with are all young enough that what I had readily available as board and mini-games had all been displaced by video games. With no real outlet other than RPGs to scratch that character-build itch, is 3+ D&D for many gamers today what war games are/were for me?

In the end, I very much enjoy the campaign; however, if your goal is to play Pathfinder in an old-school style, old school rules do a much better job without all the negatives the complex rules bring with it. Kingmaker is fun, but if I ever ran it myself, I would convert it to LL + AEC in a heart beat.

Cults of Averoigne Part 3

2012-01-09T10:52:00.000-06:00

The last group of cultists that will populate my version of Averoigne are not inspired by history, but rather by sci-fi and fantasy. Though this cult will be far less prevalent than the other two, it may very well be the most dangerous, because they see themselves as the servants of the Old Ones (do you think I wouldn’t figure out a way in which to pay homage to CAS and HPL?)

Before I go any further, though, I do need to explain a bit about my comic book reading habits (trust me, it will make sense in the end). I am neither a huge comic book fan nor much of a collector; however, there were a couple of periods in my life when I did actively buy and read comic books. I tend to be more of a DC kinda guy than a Marvel guy. This largely has to do with the fact that during those times I was buying and reading, DC was putting out a superior product. I came to this conclusion despite the fact that all of my comic book reading friends insisted that Marvel was better.

This anti-Marvel prejudice was solidified when the comic book giant came out with a bunch of new titles. A few of them really inspired my friends, so I selectively gave a few a try. I had to admit, some of the ideas behind the books were indeed rather awesome. Then original writers and artists were dumped from the book to go on to more important titles and these various cool ideas were systemically destroyed by incompetence, indifference and an emphasis on stories that required the purchase of several books I had zero desire to ever read, let alone pay for.

This was many years ago and my copies are long gone as are my memories of the titles, characters, artists, writers etc. A cursory Google search turned up nothing but the inherent prejudice of the internet for the current, new and now. All that remains is the cool idea that inspired my favorite of these comics.

The book centered on a group of mercenaries that travelled through dimensions/time/space in order to procure technologies that could then be reverse engineered and developed for the company that sent the mercs out on their various missions. The potential for this beautiful nugget is endless — especially for serialized storytelling like comic books.

This nugget of an idea forms the basic premise of the cult of the Old Ones. A couple of weeks ago, I posited an idea about how arcane magic slowly rips apart space and time. These holes can become large enough to let in things from different eras both past and present.

The cult of the Old Ones actively tries to create and find these holes. Cultists come in two different flavors (or some combination thereof):

Those that seek to find power and riches by raiding different time periods of their magic and technology.
Those that seek to find that point in time either in the distant past or the distant future where the Old Ones are awake and active so that they can come through the hole in space and time to wreck havoc on Averoigne and the world.

Thus, these cultists are, in essence, twisted versions of the average D&D adventuring party. Rather than raiding dungeons, they raid time itself. This, then, has the potential of setting up an adventure or series of adventures where a group of players are hired by the cult to do their dirty work — go retrieve this device that lies just beyond that gate over there. If they do, then the fun begins as they must deal with the consequences of their actions...

Saintly Saturday: The Synaxis of St. John the Baptist

2012-01-07T12:03:00.000-06:00

Today is the Synaxis of St. John the Baptist. A synaxis is a gathering. After major feasts, there is a gathering of the various saints associated with the feast the next day. Thus, December 26th is the Synaxis of the Virgin Mary. Since yesterday was the feast of Epiphany (the baptism of Christ), today is the Synaxis of St. John — the one who baptized Christ.

As an aside, I am always struck by the hymns that are sung at this time of year. Various aspects of nature get anthropomorphized:

Jordan River, tell us do: What did you see and were amazed? I saw naked Him whom none can see, and shuddered in fear. And how was I not to shudder at Him and be frightened? The Angels, when they saw Him also shuddered in awe. And heaven was astonished, and astounded was earth. The sea recoiled along with all things both visible and invisible. For Christ appeared in the River Jordan, to sanctify the waters.

It is a reminder that Christ willingly uses His creation as active participants in his salvific work. Despite the fact that water is one of the most deadly and destructive forces in nature, despite the fact that the cross is one of the most heinous tools of torture and death devised by man, Christ chose to use both. It is this fact that drives me to play RPGs the way that I do. There is no part of creation where Christ does not belong and that He cannot transform into resurrection.

One of the more interesting traditions of Orthodox Christianity at this time of year the the Great Blessing of the Waters. In places with larger Orthodox communities, this blessing will take place at rivers, lakes and oceans. A cross will be thrown into the waters and young men and women will dive in to try and be the one to retrieve it. Those that do receive a special blessing for the coming year.

This past summer, I came up with some random tables to come up with various festivals that could populate an RPG world. Given that post was also inspired by one of the many days of the year dedicated to St. John the Baptist, I thought I’d expand on that table. The following is designed to come up with unusual traditions that can accompany said feasts and festivals:

Action

Combat
Move
Find
Retrieve
Defeat
Race
Speak with
Journey
Destroy
Trap
Sacrifice
Explore

Object/Person

Holy Symbol
Undead
Magic/Magic Item
Child
Gem or Jewel
Class (1=Fighter; 2=Magic-User; 3=Cleric; 4=Thief)
Demi-Human Race (1=Dwarf; 2=Elf; 3=Halfling)
Exotic Animal
Exotic Plant
Maiden
Construct
Monster

Location

Mountain
Ruins
Bazaar
Castle
Battlefield
Temple
Woods
Desert
Cave
Body of Water
Tomb
Dungeon

I have left these tables kind of vague so that it is possible to come up with several variations for each result. This allows some flexibility so that the feast and the tradition don’t need to be incongruous. For instance, let us take the example feast from original tables (The Discovery of the Skull of the Mother of a Regional Saint) with the rolls on these tables of 11, 4 and 1. Sacrificing a child on a mountain does really fit; however a child making a sacrifice on a mountain does.

Of course, these tables can be expanded or modified to better meet your particular idiosyncrasies. Have fun.

Cults of Averoigne Part 2

2012-01-05T07:37:00.001-06:00

Though I am quite satisfied with the Oamenbun — an analog for the Cathari of 13th century France — I also need to set up a pagan cult. Since the Crimson King and his Black Queen are so tightly associated with the pagan past of Averoigne and since time tends to be a bit non-linear — especially around the Chateau des Faussesflammes — I need to establish the pagan cult the king and queen were/are/will be involved in.

I originally created this bit a heraldry for the Crimson King because of its Wotanic overtones:

However, since I have gone to the trouble of tying the Oamenbun to a regional group, I also want to have stronger local ties to inspire this pagan cult. Thus, I have been doing some cursory investigation into the paganism found in France. Here are the three local cults that I find most useful:

Esus (which means Master) was local to the tribes of southern France. Blood sacrifices were made in his name and he was also associated with hanging. He was depicted with three birds and a bull.
Sucellus (which means Good Striker) was depicted with a long-handled hammer and a cauldron. He was usually seen accompanied by a raven and a three-headed dog. This suggests that he had a very strong association with funerals, death and the underworld.
Nantosuelta (which means Winding River) was associated with nature, valleys and streams. She was the consort of Sucellus and was depicted carrying a staff topped with a dovecote as well as a cornucopia. Her symbol was the raven, so she also was associated with death and the underworld.

I plan on doing an amalgam of these three by taking the name and practices of the cult of Esus and applying them to Sucellus and Nantosuelta, since they parallel the Crimson King and the Black Queen. Thus, these two will be simply called Master and Mistress. Their cult will practice human sacrifice wherein the victim is hung and exsanguinated. Necromancy and the undead will also be a huge part of cultic practice.

The various associations of these three also suggest a number of artifacts that might be found while exploring the Chateau des Faussesflammes:

The Master’s Maul, also known as Lovitor, or Striker. Its size seems to suggest that gauntlets of ogre power or a girdle of giant strength are necessary to even wield the weapon and a combination of the two might be necessary to take full advantage of its powers.
The Mistress’ Staff, also known as Rau or River. There are several possibilities here. The dovecote suggests the ability to summon and control birds. The name Rau suggests water-based magic. A combination of the two suggests the ability to summon and control a water elemental in the form of a bird.
The Master’s Cauldron. I cannot help but think of the Black Cauldron from Lloyd Alexander’s Chronicles of Prydain. It was the source of the Arawn’s army of undead and the only way to destroy it is by willingly sacrificing oneself by crawling in. This suggests a couple of special creatures that might be produced by the cauldron, based upon the sacrifices made to the Master — the Hanged Ones and Blood Golems.
The Mistress’ Cornucopia. Given her association with rivers, it makes sense that this artifact is an unending source of water; however, given her association with the dead, it also suggests another special undead. Should a corpse “drink” from the Cornucopia, it will rise as an undead called the Drowned.

Finally, there are several creatures that suggest themselves (besides the undead and the blood golem):

The Raven — this strongly suggests spies. It will be fun to play on the paranoia of the players once they figure out that the birds can reveal their secret plans to the enemy.
The Three-Headed Dog — this, of course, brings to mind Cerberus the guardian of the gate to the Underworld. Thus, somewhere under the Chateau he will guard some major treasure horde or possibly some kind of hub wherein gates to several different time/space destinations can be found.
The Bull — this suggests that a gorgon wanders the halls of the Chateau and that statues in various poses of fright and combat be littered throughout. Imagine the surprise of a party carrying mirrors in preparation for a medusa or a basilisk realize that their doom is actually a breath weapon.

Cults of Averoigne Part 1

2012-01-02T21:59:00.001-06:00

Among the various wilderness encounter areas that I have for my version of Averoigne are several cultists. I included them on my Random Wilderness Encounter Tables because not only do I want an interesting and insidious group of human adversaries but because there is an historical precedence in 13th century France for such a group.

From 1209-1229 nobles of northern France were encouraged to wipe out the Catharism abundant in southern France in what is known as the Albigensian Crusade. It all started when a papal legate was murdered while trying to negotiate with Cathar nobles. Lands held by Cathars were offered up as rewards for those nobles willing to take up arms. There were a couple of interesting consequences from this crusade.

Southern France had a distinct culture and language. In the wake of the crusade, both of these were greatly reduced under stronger influence of the French crown over the area.
The crusade played a role in the establishment and institutionalization of the Inquisition.

Both of these suggest some very interesting background noise for an Averoigne campaign. First, the language and culture of Averoigne is distinct from the rest of the region. Secondly, Inquisitors tend to be outsiders who have a nationalistic agenda rather than a purely religious one.

Catharism is a dualistic gnostic Christian heresy. Dualism is a belief system that holds that there are two equally powerful deities — one good and one evil. Gnosticism takes on various forms, but there are several characteristics which can be identified as gnostic. In the case of Catharism, they identify the god of the Old Testament as a demiurge — what they term the Rex Mundi — that is in actuality the evil god in their dualistic pantheon. This results in another typical gnostic characteristic — the belief that creation and all matter are fundamentally evil, having been created by the Rex Mundi. As a result, Catharism understands the person of Jesus to be a manifestation of spirit unbound by matter who in no way shape or form became human or died on the Cross.

Of course, these beliefs run counter to Christian orthodoxy which holds that the Trinitarian God is the only God who even has dominion over the devil and his angels; creation was declared very good by God; and Christ definitively became a human being and died on the Cross.

Cathari religious texts included parts of the New Testament (especially the Gospel of John), The Gospel of the Secret Supper (sometimes called John’s Interrogation) and The Book of Two Principles. There is some question as to whether or not the name Cathar was used by the heretical group. More certainly, they referred to themselves as Bons Hommes or Good Men.

Despite this moniker, gnostic theology has some nasty consequences. Since all matter is considered evil, how one treats matter is of little consequence. Thus, extreme asceticism and hedonism are both frequent expressions of gnostic practice. Taking this understanding of material as evil to a logical conclusion, it is possible for gaming purposes to justify torture as a legitimate tool of religious conversion and discipline — to remove dependence upon evil matter.

Therefore, the analogous group for the Cathari (which I am thinking of calling the Oamenbun) would practice extreme asceticism (horse hair shirts being considered mild) who would think nothing of kidnapping and torture as a means of furthering their own agenda. The inner circle of leaders would have secret dens of inequity where all kinds of heinous and hedonistic practices can be found. Most intriguingly, this group would be fervently nationalistic — resisting the influence of non-Averoigne culture and language. This nationalism would earn them wide support among the locals.

Saintly Saturday: The Saturday before Epiphany

2011-12-31T10:51:00.000-06:00

Today is the Saturday before Epiphany, which in Orthodox Christian practice has its own assigned hymns, readings and prayers in anticipation of the celebration of Christ’s baptism. In some ways, Epiphany is actually a bigger feast in Orthodox Christianity than is Christmas (which originated in the West). In the East, the Nativity was commemorated as part of the feast of Epiphany and wasn’t celebrated as a separate feast until the end of the 4th century in most places, and not until the 6th century in others.

The reason for this import can be seen in another term Orthodox Christianity uses for the feast — Theophany. The word epiphany means revelation. The word theophany means a revelation about God. The revelation implied by the term is articulated in the Apolytikia (a type of hymn for a feast):

When You were baptized in the Jordan, O Lord, the worship of the Trinity was made manifest.

The baptism of Christ is the first time in Scripture where God explicitly reveals Himself to be Trinity — the voice of the Father, the Son in the Jordan being baptized and the Holy Spirit descending as a dove.

I am intrigued how these two words might apply to RPGs.

Epiphany, of course, is easier to apply since any kind of revelation is applicable. Revealing the true identity of an NPC nemesis, a continuing backstory of a dungeon or any other mystery of a campaign world would be fitting. For my own purposes and interests, this is particularly useful in designing and running megadungeons. One thing that keeps bringing players back is a continuous trickle of information about the history and use of the dungeon.

Personally, I try to make sure this backstory has multiple levels. I prefer to use three: 1) original builders/occupants, 2) those that either conquered the original occupants or took over after they disappeared, and 3) those that currently occupy the dungeon. I usually seed this information not just throughout the dungeon itself, but throughout the campaign world. Indeed, my player’s recent excursion across dimensions had a major reveal about the megadungeon (of course, it is still to be determined as to whether or not the players put all the pieces together…)

Theophany is a more difficult proposition, but is really the one I am more interested in. Since the advent of Gods, Demi-Gods & Heroes in 1978, divine beings have been at the very least peripherally part of the game. The question is how much and in what form? When I first encountered Deities & Demigods, my friends and I merely saw it as an interesting extension of the Monster Manual and set about seeing which entry would be the easiest/most entertaining to take on in combat. Indeed, the first (brief) campaign I ever ran using Deities & Demigods had as its goal a final confrontation with our choice (one of the babylonian/sumerian entries if I remember right).

As offensive or entertaining such an encounter might be, I would argue it would not be a theophany — given the way we used Deities & Demigods it was merely another (albeit really powerful) monster encounter (a use, by the way, that as a Christian I am very comfortable with).

Though I make liberal use of angels and saints in my own games, I am not really sure that I have made use of any kind of theophany — I really haven’t revealed anything about God or God Himself. Of course, I run a campaign with a Christian analog where much of the nature of God is already implied and the players (being at least familiar with Christianity) understand the basic assumptions. If I were ever to run a campaign based on my meditations on prophets as clerics, theophanies might play a larger role in the campaign. It might also be interesting to see how theophanies would play out in a far distant future campaign where Christianity only survives in tiny remnants.

So, I am curious: How often to you use theophanies in your campaigns?

Ripping Apart Time and Space

2011-12-30T08:27:00.002-06:00

One of the things that I have been doing to entertain myself this past month is watching the BBC series Primeval. Though there are several moments over the course of the series that make it very difficult to suspend my disbelief, I very much enjoy the show because it has such a fascinating set-up.

Particularly interesting is its implicit admission that Darwinism cannot explain why the world was what it was and became what it is. Despite an overwhelming attempt by the popular culture (and scientists dependent upon secular and government money), Darwin’s mechanism for explaining evolution doesn’t work. As the show points out, there are things in the world and in the fossil record that just cannot be explained by our standard, assumed understanding of evolution.

However, the show does not take any kind of religious tack (it is the BBC, after all). Rather, they come up with an ingenious way of explaining how evolution does funny things. In essence, there are several holes in time and space that flash in and out of existence. Called (in a very Star Trek-esque manner) anomalies, they allow for creatures from very different epochs to cross over into different time periods — thus having drastic affects upon the evolutionary order.

One of the things that challenges the suspension of disbelief is that all of these anomalies seem to be centered around Britain, and that the government is perfectly capable of keeping it quiet that there are incursions by prehistoric monsters into our time on a fairly regular basis.

This got me thinking: why Britain? Why not the U.S. or South Africa or India? Given that Britain is the location of Stone Henge (and all of the weirdness associated with it), what if the anomalies were a long-term consequence of using arcane magic? Obviously, I am now fully going into FRPG inspiration mode, (because this blog is primarily about RPGs). Here is also where I get to sneak in some Christian dogma.

God created the world from nothing. When humanity knew evil (the absence of God), we knew a world of disease, decay and death — these are all symptoms of creation returning to the nothing from which it came. In context of a fantasy world where arcane magic exists and is practiced, this decay could take on a very interesting form. The use of arcane magic (which is, in essence an embrace of Adam’s Fall because most magic users attempt to be God sans God) could tear tiny holes in space and time. Over the long term, this results in anomalies — a symptom of space and time collapsing in on themselves as they return to nothing.

One of the more interesting ideas from the series is that most, if not all, mythological beasts have their origin as creatures from a distant past or future making an incursion into a different time. Thus, dragons might be dinosaurs. A dire boar might be an entelodont. A Lycanthrope or a vampire might be a wolf or a bat from some far distant future where these creatures have evolved some kind of intelligence (in fact, one of the recurring creatures in Primeval is a super-evolved bat).

There are three fundamental reasons why I am so intrigued by this concept:

Firstly, having portals opening up intermittently to other times can justify just about any weird creature you can think of — just call it a creature from the distant past or future. It also explains why dinosaurs of all different epochs could be roaming around a fantasy world.

Secondly, it allows just enough weirdness into a campaign world without going gonzo — how cool would it be to have a party of PCs jump through a portal into the distant past or future? The possibilities are endless.

Finally, and to my mind most importantly, it plays into the post-apocalyptic reality that is D&D — especially in a Homlesian kind of way. The ancient civilization hinted at in the Holmes edition of Basic D&D and how it came crashing down now come into sharp focus — all that powerful arcane magic tore enough holes in time and space that some serious nastiness crawled through to bring the civilization crashing to a halt. In addition, it suggests the very interesting possibility that divine magic (which develops later in the suggested D&D landscape of Holmes) heals these tears in time and space.

For my own purposes, it also helps explain why the concept of time is so non-linear within the confines of the Chateau des Faussesflammes...

Meditating on Random Encounter Tables

2011-12-29T08:50:00.003-06:00

Before I go any farther, let me apologize for the dearth of posts around here lately. Though I should know better, lenten seasons (as in the 40 days prior to Christmas) and their immediate aftermath always demand more of my time than I ever expect. In addition, most of the time I have recently spent on gaming has been of the order of getting small details done for a couple projects that I have left fallow for awhile. Thus, I haven’t had a whole lot of time to post, and what I could be posting about hasn’t been all that exciting.

And here comes the However: I have been slogging through making Random Wilderness Encounter Tables for my version of Averoigne. Due to the fact that I like the mechanical feel of their structure, I have been using the same tables from S&W Complete as a model. And yet, one thing bothered me about them — dragons.

Depending on terrain type, there is about a 10% chance of having a random encounter with a dragon using the S&W Complete tables. Now, there are simple ways to radically reduce this chance — but this isn’t what bothered me. Rather, it was the very idea that I had to have a world where enough dragons were running around to justify a 10% chance of running into one.

This notion continued to grow as I found myself repeatedly placing things that the source material suggests like vampires, lamias and lycanthropes all over my encounter tables. Looking at my tables, I couldn’t help but think that my version of Averoigne must be crawling with hundreds of these nasty creatures in order to justify their presence in these tables.

As I doggedly moved forward and started to use these tables in order to come up with wilderness encounter areas, I realized something really interesting — while vampires, lamias and lycanthropes are all over my random tables, there is in actuality only one vampire, one lamia and a handful of lycanthropes (and no dragons) that currently live in Averoigne.

In other words, Random Encounter Tables do not represent what is, rather what might be and only if the PCs go exploring in the wilderness. Though dragons show up on my tables, they don’t exist until they do. Therefore, my world doesn’t have to be a world where dragons exist until they do.

This may seem to be an odd statement, but to my mind it is significant. A world crawling with vampires, lamias, lycanthropes and dragons would look and behave much differently than a world with one vampire, one lamia, a couple of lycanthropes and no dragons. The former is one where paranoia runs rampant, trade would be virtually non-existent and nearly all resources would be used to merely survive. The latter looks much more like a typical medieval society with normal superstitions and fears.

This distinction allows random encounters to impact the game world in a far more interesting and organic way. Dragons don’t exist in Averoigne. No one has ever seen one. Therefore, when the fumbling around of the PCs results in a dragon showing up in Averoigne, it is going to be a major event worthy of an adventure.

Christ is Born!

2011-12-25T07:17:00.003-06:00

Mary, why are you amazed and awed by what was done in you? And she answers, “For in time I have brought forth a timeless Son. But I have no understanding of His conception. Husbandless am I: how can I bear a son? Who has ever seen seedless childbirth? But where God wills, the order found in nature is overcome, as it is written.” So Christ was born from the Virgin Maiden, in Bethlehem of Judea. — Kathisma of the Nativity

He whom nothing can contain has been contained in a womb. He is in the Father’s bosom and His Mother’s embrace. How can this be, but as He knows and willed and was well pleased. Fleshless as He was, He willingly took flesh. And He Who Is became what He was not, for us. And while departing not from His own nature, He shared in our nature’s substance. So Christ was born with dual natures, wishing to replenish the world on high. — Kathisma of the Nativity

Here is to hoping and praying that this Christmas brings everyone many, many blessings. Merry Christmas.

Saintly Saturday: St. Eugenia of Rome

2011-12-24T06:00:00.015-06:00

Christmas Eve is the Feast day of St. Eugenia the Nun-martyr of Rome. Though born in Rome, St. Eugenia actually grew up in Alexandria because her father was sent there to be the Prefect of Egypt by Emperor Commodus (A.D. 180-192).

During a period when Christians were banned from the city, she encountered the Epistles of St. Paul. This made her wish with all her heart to become a Christian — something she kept secret from her parents. Under the pretense of enjoying the countryside at a family estate outside the city, she arranged to be taken to a monastery to learn more about Christianity.

There she was baptized by the Bishop Elias who learned of her coming through a vision. He then blessed her to pursue asceticism at the monastery disguised as the monk Eugene.

Having a gift for healing, she garnered the attention of a rich young woman named Melanthia. Wishing to lure what she thought was a young monk away from the ascetic life, she threw herself at the saint. When spurned, she accused St. Eugenia of rape. The trial went before her father, the Prefect, where she was forced to reveal her true identity.

Eventually, the rest of her family came to believe in Christ and her father (as Prefect) was shortly thereafter martyred. The family then moved back to Rome, where St. Eugenia was eventually arrested and martyred herself.

Personally, this is one of my favorite stories among the lives of the saints. I think it has to do with the fact that I have a soft spot for Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and stories like it. I love the drama created by mistaken identity — especially when that mistaken identity is one that is chosen rather than forced. As I have been meditating upon this story this week, it occurs to me that this is one of the reasons why I also have a soft-spot for half-orcs — the demi-human race I prefer over all others.

I have to admit, though, that I am not overly fond of the various iterations of half-orc that came out after 1ed AD&D. The reason I like this version better than all others can be found in the description of half-orcs in the PH:

Orcs are fecund and create many cross-breeds, most of the offspring of such being typically orcish. However, some one-tenth of orc-human mongrels ore sufficiently non-orcish to pass for human.

Furthermore, because of this affinity towards humanity, half-orc player characters are able to be all of these various classes. The implication is that the other 90% of half-orcs are functionally orcs — 1 HD monsters.

Thus, half-orcs (if played according to their description) do not go around proudly declaring their orcish heritage, but rather hide it choosing, rather, to disguise themselves as humans so as to blend into a society in which they believe they can eek out a better life. This could also be true of half-elves (those that choose to live in human society — which brings up the very interesting question as why they chose human over elvish society).

Unfortunately, our tendency as role-players is to play half-orcs and half-elves as full-blooded orcs or elves with a different set of mechanical advantages (I am guilty as the next guy). This can be seen in the fact that 3ed half-orcs look and play like orcs in virtually everything except name. Personally, I think the source of this tendency is the Racial Preferences Table, which all but declares that half-orcs despise just about everybody, lending credence to the idea that they are open about being an orc.

How much more interesting would it be, though, if all of that antipathy were kept secret? What if there was a real incentive to pretending to be human and avoid detection as a half-orc (or half-elf)? This is when stories of mistaken identity of our own creation can become part of play — where we can make our own Eugenias and Violas.

Saintly Saturday: St. Daniel the Prophet

2011-12-17T12:23:00.000-06:00

Today is the Feast of Daniel the Prophet and the Three Holy Youths (also known as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednago). They were part of the generation that were taken into Babylon as captives around 599 B.C. by King Nebuchadnezzar. All four, being of the princely lineage of Judah, were subsequently singled out to be taken into the royal court to be trained as pages. It was there that Daniel showed himself more wise than all the Chaldean sages, the Three Youths were thrown into the fire for refusing to worship idols and Daniel received his visions.

While there are plenty of fantastic images and creatures that can be found within the visions seen by Daniel, today I am rather going to concentrate on a portion of the Book of Daniel many folks may not be aware of. The textual witness for the Book of Daniel is rather complicated. Portions appear to have been written in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek. There are also two very different versions of Greek.

When the Masoretes began to compile the Hebrew Bible after the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70., they rejected those texts that had been written in Greek. Thus, the Mesoretic Text of the OT (which forms the basis of most translations of the Bible in English) does not contain certain parts of the Book of Daniel which were written in Greek. One such section is an entertaining little story popularly known as Bel and the Dragon.

Ostensibly a polemic against idol worship, the story has Daniel convincing his friend King Cyrus of Persia that he shouldn’t waste his time with idolatry. The story is called Bel and the Dragon because the story revolves around the destruction of the idols of Bel (another name for the Babylonian god Marduk) and a dragon.

The fun comes from the descriptions of these conflicts and how they might inspire adventures and even a dungeon, of sorts. The priests of Bel claim that their God ate twelve bushels of flour, forty sheep and six measures of wine every day. This was seen to be true because all that food would disappear every day — “eaten” by Bel. In reality, the seventy priests and their families snuck into the sanctuary every night through a secret door in the floor to eat the food themselves. Daniel exposed their ruse by spreading a thin layer of flour on the floor which revealed the foot prints of the real culprits.

Daniel then destroys the dragon (which also “ate” sacrifices) by shoving balls of boiled pitch, fat and hair down the its throat. As a result, it burst.

There are several interesting possibilities here. The temple of Bel could in reality be a den of thieves who are pulling the wool over the eyes of the locals. It could also be an abandoned temple (formerly occupied by thieves and con-men?) with undiscovered secret entrances to dungeons below. In addition, while the story implies that the dragon destroyed by Daniel is a statue, the language used could be loosely interpreted to indicate an actual dragon. Taken together, these two episodes imply a city-state dominated by two cults. One is a sham put on by the local thieves’ guild and the other is led by an actual dragon.

In order to get everyone’s creative juices flowing, I offer up the following cross-section of the temple of Bel:

Review: Demonspore (and a Challenge for the OSR)

2011-12-16T12:36:00.001-06:00

The short: Demonspore by Matt Finch is the best module produced by the OSR to date. Period. Full stop.

The long: Potential module designers of all stripes pay attention.

There are other modules that look better (see anything by Paizo which probably has the highest production values in the industry). There are other modules which are far more clever and weird (Matt Finch’s own The Spire of Iron and Crystal is better). There are other modules that have a better and more thought out back story (though the idea of growing your own god is awfully cool, I think the background for James Boney’s The Chasm of the Damned has a lot more potential and Michael Curtis has done a more thorough job with Stonehell).

The reason why I love this module so much can be summed up in Matt’s own words:

If the Referee has a different sort of sinister enemy in mind rather than toadstool-creatures, it is certainly not required to use Stone Cyst of the Shroom Priests as the sequel. Other than the fact the the insidious corruptors of the Toad-Men have some skills in alchemy, no facts about these deceivers are revealed by the material in this module.

Demonspore is actually two separate modules that are connected, but as can be seen above they need not be. Coupled with the fact that Matt has given us three different ways to connect the first part of Demonspore to any extant dungeon/ruin/whatever that happens to be in our own campaign world means that this module wasn’t designed to have a high production value, to be clever and weird or to have an incredible back story. Rather IT WAS DESIGNED TO BE USED.

To me, this is by far the most valuable asset of any module I purchase. While the other three are valuable (and, trust me Demonspore has them in spades) they are rendered meaningless if I can’t actually use the adventure. As a testament to how easy it is to use Demonspore, the very same afternoon that I had skimmed my copy I had seamlessly integrated the entire module into the tentpole megadungeon for my Lost Colonies campaign and it made my own megadungeon better. My players may be exploring Matt’s creation as soon as our next session.

Whether he knows it or not, Matt has stumbled upon the best way for our community to publish a megadungeon. Matt dispenses with any information about where this module is located, other than the fact it is part of a dungeon. He provides several ways that his module connects to the rest of this dungeon. The rest he trusts us with.

Now, imagine if we had available a dozen or so modules written by any number of designers who shared this same format. We, the end users, would then be free to piece them together however we wish in order to form our own unique megadungeon. How much of this megadungeon is our own homebrew and what is published is entirely up to us. The result, I believe, would not only give our generation of gamers the common cultural experience of gaming with broadly used modules, but also allow all of us to have that experience be truly unique to each campaign because of the freedom we would have to use them to construct our own unique megadungeon.

Therefore, I would like to throw down a gauntlet and challenge all of the would-be designers of the OSR to do just this: use the format of Demonspore and produce good quality modular adventures that I guarantee will get used because at least this gamer will gleefully attach them to an existing megadungeon.

Saintly Saturday: Sts. Menas, Hermogenes, & Eugraphos

2011-12-10T19:12:00.000-06:00

Today is the Feast of Sts. Menas, Hermogenes, & Eugraphos, Martyrs of Alexandria. Menas was a soldier and a skilled orator, which is why he sometimes called “Most Eloquent.” As such, he was sent from his native Athens to Alexandria to suppress riots that had arisen out of conflicts between pagans and Christians. Not only did St. Menas quiet the conflict, but openly preached the Gospel and converted many of the pagans to Christianity.

Having heard of this development, the Emperor Maximian (A.D. 235-238) sent Hermogenes to purge the city of Christians. In turn, he became a Christian once he saw that the wounds he was inflicting upon Menas miraculously healed.

Then Emperor himself then came to Alexandria; however, he refused to be mollified by either the stoic endurance of Menas and Hermogenes or by the miracles which attended their struggles. Rather, this all made him all the more angry. After personally stabbing to death St. Eugraphos, the personal secretary to St. Menas, he ordered Sts. Menas and Hermogenes to be beheaded. Their decapitated heads, along with that of Eugraphos, were then put into an iron chest and thrown into the sea. Subsequently, these relics were recovered and brought to Constantinople in the ninth century.

For me, the most intriguing part of the this story is the disposal of the saints’ decapitated heads and their subsequent recovery. Can anyone say undersea adventure?

The scenario that immediately leaps to mind is to place a ruin off the coast (possibly hinted at in a treasure map). This ruin is the lair of a Water Naga. She is possession of an iron chest that she is willing to barter for the return of a magical item stolen from her by a group of sahaugin (or some other group of undersea denizens).

I realize this is derivative of something that I did in my Lost Colonies campaign, but I really like the potential of a party either going to the trouble of retrieving said magic device or defeating the naga for the iron chest only to find in contains three skulls. The irony, of course, being that these three skulls, as religious relics, are possibly far more valuable than whatever treasure stolen from the naga in the first place.

Here are some possible powers that the three skulls could give to those who know what they are:

Heal as per a Staff of Healing only up to three times per day per target depending on how many skulls the user has in their possession.
Increase the effective Charisma of the possessor by one degree per skull. Thus, if the user has a 10 Charisma, one skull would result in a 13, two skulls 16 and three skulls 18. The number of followers attracted by those of level 9+ are doubled for one who posses two skulls and tripled for one who has all three.
A spell similar to Comprehend Languages that allows reading, writing and speaking for a duration of 1 turn. This can be cast once per day per skull the user possesses.

Meditating on Ability Bonuses

2011-12-06T15:41:00.000-06:00

Awhile ago, I wrote a post about Charisma and Wisdom. In it I challenged the basic assumptions of both ability scores in an attempt to return to the symmetry of Prime Requisites vs. Combat Abilities found in OD&D with later versions of the game that include the Thief as a core class. While thought provoking, I am not sure I was entirely successful.

Recently, James over at Grognardia also wrote about Charisma in a very similar vein to what I was trying to get at in my own, earlier, post. This prompted a brief discussion of ability scores and bonuses that ended up admitting that while the balance found in OD&D is intellectually awesome, in practice it is hard to image a fighter with an 18 Strength not getting some kind of combat bonus since that is how we have played the game for 30+ years.

Yesterday, Jeff of Jeff's Gameblog posted this little gem. At first, I dismissed it out of hand because it made no real sense to me — why would a dumb fighter advance faster than a smart one? Why would a weak MU do any better than a strong one? It then hit me: a dumb fighter would rely more on his fighting ability than would a smarter fighter; a weak MU would rely more on their arcane magic than would a stronger MU.

Imagine for a moment a MU had to move a couch. With a STR of 10+ that couch is going to be lifted/dragged to where it needs to be. With a STR of 8 or less (especially 3!) it is more likely that a spell like Floating Disc is going to be cast in order to move that couch. Who is more likely to be more skilled, faster over time: the MU who uses arcane magic for everything or the one who can rely on other skills to do everyday mundane things? I am beginning to see that it is very plausible to argue the MU with a 3 STR would.

Using my previous re-tooling of Charisma and Wisdom, here are my own initial thoughts about XP bonuses:

Low Strength = Magic-User bonus
Low Dexterity = Cleric Bonus
Low Constitution = Thief Bonus
Low Intelligence = Fighter/Dwarf
Low Awareness = Halfling
Low Charisma = Elf

Here are my explanations:

Magic Users — see above.
Clerics are more likely to solve problems face-to-face therefore discouraging missile combat as a way to solve problems.
Thieves that have lower hit points are much more likely to solve problems by avoiding combat and being sneaky.
Fighters and Dwarves that are intelligent (able to form strategy and planning) are less likely to rely on their sword/axe arm.
Halflings (Hobbits) are naturally inclined to live happily in their own little bubble without much awareness of the outside world. Those who are aware just aren't natural hobbits.
Elves, being long-lived and the one race inclined to being two classes at once, represent the impulse to do everything sans divine help. The less in tune with God, the more likely the elf will succeed doing what elves do. This also gives elves a nice, sinister spin.

This all got me thinking about the inherent symmetry of OD&D vs. combat bonuses built into Prime Requisites and how I can have my cake and eat it, too. With XP bonuses divorced from Prime Requisites, it is possible to give every ability score a combat bonus/penalty.

Using my previous re-tooling of Charisma and Wisdom, here are my initial thoughts:

Strength = to hit bonus melee
Dexterity = to hit bonus ranged
Constitution = hit points bonus
Intelligence = henchmen number & loyalty
Awareness = damage bonus
Charisma = armor class bonus

The first three are pretty standard and therefore don't need much explanation. The last three, however, break the mold.

Intelligence — This requires a bit of reverse engineering. If a fighter is more fighter-like by relying on their sword, than the opposite of that would be a fighter who relies on planning — leading a number of henchmen. In addition, which class is most likely to take advantage of henchmen — the Magic-User!
Awareness — This represents the ability to be aware of weaknesses in an opponent's defenses.
Charisma — Someone who has divine protection is going to be harder to hit.

It should be noted, that there are some editions of D&D where certain combat bonuses are only available to fighters. There are a couple of ways to simulate this. The first is to have additional bonuses associated with Prime Requisites that are only available to the given class. Here are some initial thoughts (some of which already duplicate some existing rules):

Strength = Fighters and Dwarves get a bonus to encumbrance (they are trained to move in armor). If that doesn't float your boat, how about DR when armor is worn?
Dexterity = Elves get a bonus to saving throws involving balance (death/breath)
Constitution = Halflings get a bonus to saving throws involving durability (poison/spells)
Intelligence = Magic-Users get to know more spells/get bonus spells
Awareness = Thieves get bonuses to Thief Skills
Charisma = Clerics gets bonus spells

Secondly, rather than getting all the the various combat bonuses, characters would only get the bonus associated with their class plus one other of their choice (thus giving classes a bit of diversity).

Thoughts?

Saintly Saturday: St. Zephaniah the Prophet

2011-12-03T10:59:00.000-06:00

Today is the feast of St. Zephaniah the Prophet. The textual witness of the book named after him indicates that Zephaniah was a contemporary of King Josiah and took part in the religious reform the king championed once he reached adulthood. This places the prophet in context of 2 Kings 22-23 (or 4 Kings by LXX reckoning). His prophecy was most likely written at the time of Josiah’s minority (the king was crowned at the age of eight).

A couple of weeks ago, I pointed out that prophets make very good clerics. Indeed, Roger of Roles, Rules & Rolls took this idea and ran with it . . . to very good effect. The more I meditate upon this idea, the more I like it. This is only reinforced by reading the Prophecy of Zephaniah and 2 Kings. Here are some highlights:

The Temple is in serious disrepair (which can easily be interpreted to be ruins). King Josiah sends Hilkiah the high priest to gather all the silver inside the Temple in order to melt it down to pay for repairs. While inside searching for treasure, Hilkiah finds a book (some biblical scholars identify this as Deuteronomy). The discovery of this book leads to the religious reform that marks the reign of King Josiah. This story is very much suggestive of an expedition into a dungeon sponsored by a local ruler. The coolest part is that the dungeon is in the middle of the city.

Once the book is found, King Josiah seeks out the counsel of God. The high priest Hilkiah and his companions Ahikam, Achbor, Shaphan and Asaiah go to find the Prophetess Huldah. She then gives them a prophecy. There are three things I find very compelling about this:

The very fact that Huldah is a woman speaks to the freedom with which players could play female clerics.
Hilkiah, as high priest, needs to go to a prophetess. This clearly differentiates the abilities of a priest (non-spell caster?) and a prophet (cleric).
Finally, this can be interpreted as the adventuring group that delved into the temple ruins who are now going on a wilderness adventure to find Huldah.

Zephaniah gives us several landmarks found within the city:

The Fish Gate
The New Quarter
The Hallows
The Temple, which one must go up a stairway to arrive at
Hills, which seem to be inside the city according to the context
Some kind of merchant sector (unnamed)

Zephaniah also bears witness to three cults that exist within the city:

Baal — of interest, the word “priesthood” used in context of Baal is a different word than is used to describe the Levite priesthood. The word used for Baal connotes the worship of idols. I would interpret that the priests of Baal, therefore, are probably magic-users whose spells are reskinned to simulate blood-magic.
Milcom — a deity worshipped by the Ammonites associated with child sacrifice.
An astrological religion where practitioners prostrate themselves on roof tops to the stars. This, again, lends itself well to the idea of a priesthood made up of magic-users.

All of this suggest a very interesting urban campaign where the tentpole megadungeon is a ruined temple, cults that wield arcane magic and sacrifice children (do they steal them?) vie for influence and the power of the government is weak because there is a child on the thrown. In addition, from the historical point of view, the neighboring Assyrians, who have controlled territories once under the rule of the king, are also weakened — thus creating a marvelous backdrop for all kinds of player character shenanigans.

Lost Colonies Session 48

2011-11-28T22:11:00.000-06:00

A question that one might ask me (a minimalist when it comes to preparation) is how do you prepare entire Brain Lasher city in full knowledge that your players may take one look at it and run very far away? Indeed, it is a question I have been asking myself. My solution (besides answering some broad questions): draw a sketch of what the party might see looking at the city from a distance and hand it to my players. They had freed one of the Mongrel Man slaves who, though unwilling to accompany the party into the city, was perfectly happy to answer any questions the party might have about what they were looking at.

What ensued turned into an hour-long conversation/planning session. Every spell, scroll, potion, wand and one-shot device was put on the table. They brain-stormed attacks, entry routes, escape routes, rallying points, distractions and goals. As the planning proceeded, there was a very dangerous look that I recognized in the eyes of my players — a look that said, “This could work.” By the time they were ready to act, even players who had started the evening trying to convince everybody to retreat were on board with the plan and ready to play their part.

The focal point of the plan was a tower that stood grotesquely at the center of the city. It seemed biological in nature, with four feet that twisted around each other into a support for four vein-laced globes. At its base was the portal that the party was interested in finding. This, in turn, was surrounded my miles of machinery maintained by the mongrel men slaves. The feet of the tower pulsed as the energy produced by the machines and the portal flowed upward toward the globes. This giant biological machine was both where the majority of the Brain Lashers lived and where they refined that energy into pure azoth.

The party figured that if they could take out one or two of the leg supports of the tower, the whole thing could come crashing down. Depending on how the denizens reacted, they had several options on what they could do in the chaos. But first, they created a distraction by getting the resident flailsnails to stampede (as much as flailsnails do stampede). Using a cocktail of spells and potions, they set charges with any and every combustible devise/substance that they owned and fired several spells into the charges to get them to go off.

The flailsnails slowed down the reaction time of the natives which allowed the party to continue guerrilla attacks against a group of Brain Lashers who were pooling their powers to try and prevent the tower from falling. This state of confusion did not last long, however, and the party soon found themselves surrounded by Brain Lashers and some of their demonic minions. The party was in no position to retreat anywhere but through the portal; however, in their final push to escape, the Brain Lashers tasked with keeping up the tower were so decimated that the tower came crashing down just as the last of the party dived through the portal. Surprisingly, despite the desperate situation, only one corpse needed to make the trip — Ahkmed’s henchmen Kavella the Elf. The rest were beaten and bloodied, but alive.

The destruction that followed destroyed an entire section of the city, including a good amount of the machines designed to keep the portal stable. Thus, the party had effectively cut off pursuit. Of course, they were now trapped on the other side, which is where our session ended.

Azoth

2011-11-27T06:47:00.000-06:00

Gleefully taking my own advice, one of the many ideas I have stolen from James’ Dwimmermount campaign is azoth, known to my players as liquid magic. As I have worked this week to prepare a Brain Lasher city, azoth and its origin in quintessence have played a very large role.

The first question that I asked of myself when detailing the city was: to what purpose was this city built? What was the reason Brain Lashers wanted to live here en masse? (Thus, despite the weirdness of the environment, my own tendency toward Gygaxian naturalism rears its head). The answer: azoth.

Unlike in Dwimmermount, where azoth mysteriously rained down on various planets at some point in the past, the existence of azoth in my campaign is quite deliberate. The Brain Lashers “mine” it from various suitable dimensions. It is a very laborious and slow process, but, given the powerful qualities of the end product, (especially since it is almost entirely accomplished by slave labor) they see it as quite worth their while.

I am also putting a subtle Christian spin on the story. Since Brain Lashers have a visage not unlike Cthulhu it should come as no surprise that they (knowingly or unknowingly) serve the demonic outer gods. Thus, their efforts to mine azoth from the quintessence has the negative consequence of literally tearing holes in creation — thus speeding it on its way back to the nothing from whence it came (a little Christian dogma, there).

These holes are the myriad portals my players have found in various parts of my campaign world (though they have yet to voluntarily step through one). Thus, the portal that the party expects to find in the city is actually the very place the Brain Lashers are mining azoth.

Saintly Saturday: St. Alypius the Stylite

2011-11-26T11:23:00.000-06:00

Today is the Feast of St. Alypius the Stylite — where the title Stylite refers to that wonderfully strange monastic practice of living life atop a pillar. His mother was a Christian and was widowed early in the life of her son. Therefore, she sent him to be educated by the Bishop Theodore. She then gave all that she owned to the poor, took up the ascetic life and became a deaconess.

As an aside, this is why and how I can justify female cleric characters in my games. Though the deaconess was required to be celibate (or widowed, as in the case of Alypius' mother) and older (40 years old), women were ordained in the ancient church. They primarily served in monasteries and ministered to women and girls, especially during sacraments that required physical contact like baptism — it was seen as inappropriate for male priests and bishops to physically handle women. Historically, the ordination of the deaconess largely fell out of practice around the 9th century, though there are still pockets where the practice still exists.

While he was traveling with the bishop to Constantinople, St. Alypius received a vision from St. Euphemia to build a church dedicated to her in the pace of his birth, the city of Adrianopolis. Once he had raised enough funds, he set about building the church on the site of a dilapidated pagan temple. The site was infested by devils. Having had the desire to lead an ascetic life since his youth, Alypius erected a pillar on top of a pagan tomb next where the church was to be built. There, he battled the devils on a nightly basis. Their favorite attack was to pelt him with stones. He was finally able to drive them away when he had all the protections of his small shelter removed and he was completely exposed to the elements.

St. Alypius remained upon his pillar for fifty-three years. Two monasteries were built at the site during his lifetime — one for men and one for women. He reposed at the age of 118 in the year A.D. 640. His relics remain in the church he built in honor of St. Euphemia.

Besides the various Christian artifacts that can be found in the early editions of D&D, it is stories like those of St. Alypius that make me entirely comfortable with the idea that D&D is compatible with Christianity. His story reads like the character arc of a typical D&D cleric. He is apprenticed to a bishop (levels 1 to 3). He then heads off on his own adventure — that wonderful trope of the temple ruins (levels 4-6). He battles the denizens of this location based adventure and finally emerges victorious (levels 7-9). Having collected enough funds, he builds a church and begins to attract followers (the two monasteries).

As I have said before (and I am sure I will say again), the idea of the stylite is marvelously bizarre. It is a great way to add flavor to a fantasy setting — and I love the fact that it comes from an established Christian practice.

***

Stylite Pillars

These structures appear in various forms, but are always columnar with enough space on the top for a single person to stand or sit. They are almost always found in remote wilderness and radiate of magic when detected for. This magic manifests when someone tries to spend the night praying atop the pillar. When attempting to do so, a wandering monster check should be made every hour, with a minimum of one wandering monster encounter for the night. These encounters do not result in the loss either of sleep or the gaining of spells.

At the end of the night, non-clerics gain the effects of a Bless spell for 24 hours. Clerics may choose one of the following benefits:

The effects of a Bless spell for 24 hours.
The ability to Turn Undead at one level higher for 24 hours.
An extra spell (to be determined by the Referee).

Stylite Pillars cannot be moved.

Giving Thanks

2011-11-24T07:23:00.001-06:00

I just wanted to take some time on this Thanksgiving Day to say thanks to everyone who has read my ramblings, commented, challenged and otherwise made the effort to maintain this corner of the blogosphere so rewarding. Plus, enjoy:

It is proper and right to sing to You, bless You, praise You, thank You and worship You in all places of Your dominion; for You are God ineffable, beyond comprehension, invisible, beyond understanding, existing forever and always the same; You and Your only begotten Son and Your Holy Spirit. You brought us into being out of nothing, and when we fell, You raised us up again. You did not cease doing everything until You led us to heaven and granted us Your kingdom to come. For all these things we thank You and Your only begotten Son and Your Holy Spirit; for all things that we know and do not know, for blessings seen and unseen that have been bestowed upon us. — Anaphora of St. John Chrysostom

Lost Colonies Session 47

2011-11-22T08:07:00.002-06:00

This was a very unusual session. Normally, while there is a fare share of player & character interaction, discussion about what to do and conversation with NPCs, a majority of time is spent exploring, fighting monsters, dealing with traps, hauling home treasure and figuring out how best to spend that treasure. In contrast, this session was almost entirely a huge role-play discussion about what to do next. While there was some concern from some players about the fact that not much happened over the course of the evening, I had to admit that I had a lot of fun.

The evening began with trying to figure out how to get someone hooked up to the pilot's seat of the Brain Lasher ship. The cockpit had what looked like a crown with umbilical cords attached to the flesh-like interior of the ship. Gilek the Gnome (who has turned out to be a bit of a daredevil) tried first, with disastrous effects (a horrendously failed saving throw resulted in INT loss). This put fear in several of the other players until one of the newer guys figured he had nothing to lose, because he hadn't even figured out the name of his character yet (YES! old school character creation in action!).

Being a magic-user, Dimiter (earning a name after accomplishing something a long-standing character could not), his INT score held up to the mental onslaught of the ship sending mental tendrils into his cortex. Thus began what, in essence, was a session-long discussion.

I had fun playing up the ship as an alien intelligence. I answered questions with monosyllabic answers whenever possible and when I couldn't, I tried to answer with another question. It was fun seeing the party try and plan how to get around the logic of the ship.

The crux of the issue was that the party needed a key and some food in order to be able to even think about getting home. On the body of the Brain Lasher, the party had found a gem with what we would describe as a laser etching of a trident on the interior of the stone. They figured they had the key. So they set about getting some food.

On the horizon was what looked to be several islands to what the party designated south-east and a larger land mass on the horizon to the north. They decided to head to the islands where they found some plant-life with brain sacks half-buried under the sand at the base of the simple root system. Much hilarity ensued as Gilek insisted on experimenting with the plants prior to taking them back to the ship (where anything disastrous might destroy the ship). In short, many a save vs. poison roll failed with non-deadly but funny results. Eventually, the gnome was unconscious on the sand and the rest of the party was satisfied that the plants were safe enough.

Though not ideal and certainly not as nutritious as a sentient being, the ship admitted that the plants were "palatable." Having thus secured what they believed to be the key and a food source, the discussion turned to what to do next. This is when all chaos broke out in what ended up being a huge discussion where players struggled with what they wanted to do, what they thought their characters wanted to do and what they thought the party should do.

Rather than try and describe it all in any kind of detail, I'll just hit some highlights:

Gilek advocated exploring the larger landmass, even if for only an hour (when else will we ever get to see something like this?)
Ahkmed had some time ago procured a manual about strange machines written in the same language used by the Yellow Faces. While preparations for getting food were underway he had managed to decipher enough of it that he knew he wanted some exotic metals to start experimenting with.
The party noticed that the trident etched inside the key matched a trident on a icosahedron map that the party had acquired ages ago, but had not pursued.
The ship informed them that the map probably lead to the city where the Yellow Faces (referred to by the ship as Cyn) came from.
The ship also informed the party that there was a Brain Lasher city a few days travel inland on the larger landmass.
The party determined that the Cyn who was on the ship when they were attacked is from a group that is currently allied with the Brain Lashers and at war with other types of Cyn.

The sentiment of the group was how often do we get to go adventure in a Brain Lasher city? So, albeit reluctantly, the group set foot on the larger landmass to head inland.

Within a day, they ran into a patrol of mongrel men mounted upon flailsnails. Initially, the party wanted to avoid any contact (and having surprise, they could have); however, Gilek noticed that the mongrel men had something attached to the back of their neck. Figuring that this was some kind of mind-control device, he attacked in hopes of freeing one or more of them to gain more information.

Only one mongrel man survived the combat and the removal of the device (which was organic and tentacled — some of which were wrapped around the base of the brain). Though confused and terrified, the party did manage to get information about the city itself.

This led to second thoughts both for and against going on to the city. Three key pieces of information were at play:

Part of the population were Cyn.
Travel to and from the city mainly occurred via an inter-dimensional portal somewhere in the city.
The majority of the population were slaves, controlled by the same device as the mongrel men.

A good number of players were interested in at least scouting out the city in hopes of being able to find a way of inciting a slave revolt to disguise their attempts to either take out as many Cyn as possible or finding the portal. There were also a number of players who wanted to retreat back to the ship and try to get home that way.

I had to end the session with pinning down the party's intention. Though I knew there was a Brain Lasher city, I had not really expected the party to go there, thus I needed to know whether or not I had to get ready for such an adventure. In the end, I have a very interesting week of preparation ahead of me...

Saintly Saturday: St. Obadiah the Prophet

2011-11-19T09:50:00.003-06:00

Today is the feast day of the Prophet Obadiah, who gives us one of the shortest books in all of Scripture (it is only 21 verses). As such, there is very little textual evidence to nail down which of the dozen or so men named Obadiah in Scripture he might be. The most popular attribution, though, is the Obadiah mentioned in the eighteenth chapter of 1 Kings (or 3 Kings if you prefer the LXX reckoning).

He was Master of the Palace in the court of Ahab. Though the king had turned away from God, Obadiah secretly remained faithful. During the persecution of the prophets by Ahab's queen, Jezebel, Obadiah hid one hundred of them away in a cave (fifty at a time) to shelter, protect and feed them. It was Obadiah that announced the presence of Elijah to Ahab in prelude to one of my favorite stories from the OT: Elijah vs. the priests of Baal on Mt. Carmel.

For those who claim to prefer the pulpiness of S&S, I only ask that you re-read (read for the first time?) 1 Kings 18. Though it is a different genre than the writings of REH, HPL, CAS etc., it does call to mind the conflict between the followers of Mitra and the devotees of Set one might find in a tale about everyone's favorite Cimmerian.

It doesn't take a lot of imagination to extrapolate this story into the basis for a campaign. There is a city-state with an evil king and his even more sinister queen. The nasty blood cult of Baal holds sway over most of the population. The followers of Elohim work in secret to protect their own. There are lost, antediluvian civilizations to discover and explore in addition to the tombs of such known civilizations as the Egyptians, the Babylonians and the Assyrians (all of which scream dungeon!). To boot, all three of the core classes from OD&D can be represented.

The aspect I like best of this set-up is the fact that Prophets make very good Clerics. Not only does the armored holy warrior jive well with the likes of Obadiah ( who opens his prophecy with a call to arms: "Up! Let us march against this people. Into battle!"), but the spell list conforms very well with the types of miracles one finds in the OT. Even Raise Dead can be said to have used by Elijah's successor Elisha with the son of the Shunnemite woman.

In other words, Obadiah doesn't just introduce Elijah to Ahab, but introduces us to a way to play a D&D campaign that cleaves closely to both Scripture and the S&S roots of the game.

My First Long-Running Traveller Campaign

2011-11-18T17:10:00.000-06:00

If I am honest, over the years I have probably spent more money on Traveller than I have on D&D — I certainly own a lot of Traveller related stuff that takes up more space on my bookshelf than my D&D books. That money, however, has never produced any kind of long-term campaign. It's not that my fiends and I didn't play Traveller (we did), it's that we had a lot more fun playing the mini-game of character and world creation than we did when we finally got around to doing something with those characters and worlds.

I mention this because in my Lost Colonies campaign, there is a real possibility that my players not only will not be heading back to Headwaters any time soon, but may be hopping from one world to the next in ways that I will not be able to predict. I do have several options available to me, one of which I don't relish at all: creating from scratch all of the various possible choices my players could make. I could also assign various pre-fab campaign worlds to each of those possible choices. While I certainly have a couple in mind to have as options, I don't have enough and too many of them are not only interchangeable, but some of my players are also intimately familiar with them.

Enter Judges Guild. Back in 1980 and 1981, Rudy Kraft produced his Portals series of mini-campaigns. Each has a radically different flavor than that found in a typical D&D world and they are all connected by a series of portals that teleport players in-between worlds (thus, giving them all a dungeon-like feel). The world that I find most inspiring is the world presented in Portals of Twilight.

Whereas the other two installments derived their uniqueness from their inhabitants, Twilight is unique because of the world itself. The rotation of the planet is parallel to the orbit so that one side is always in light and one in darkness. Thus, the only inhabitable part of the planet in the narrow strip of twilight along the equator. This sounds like something straight out of Traveller.

Thus, the inspiration for my solution for dealing with the potential meanderings of my players: revisit the mini-game of world creation in Traveller. This method has several things I find very attractive:

It is random — which usually results in more creativity on my part.
It's fun — I have literally spent days of my life creating sub-sectors for use in Traveller.
All the results can be recorded in a simple code wherein there will be enough information for me to be able to improvise should I need to.
I don't have to waste a whole lot of time creating a bunch of worlds my players will never visit.

I do this with a very real sense of irony — my very first long-term Traveller campaign has turned out to be D&D.

Monster: Enslaver

2011-11-17T07:55:00.000-06:00

For those of you that read my last Lost Colonies Session report, you know that I was very much inspired by the Moon Things of Realms of Crawling Chaos. I do, however, have to admit, I fiddled with the statistics and made my own version (something that I do on a regular basis, by the way, to keep some of my players on their toes):

Enslavers

In all truth I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave. — John 8:34

Number Appearing: 3d4 (1d6 x 10)
% in Lair: 15%
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 8
Move: 9
Hit Dice: 1+1
Attacks: by weapon or see below
Special: Damage Reduction, Disarm, Sleep attack — see below
Save: F2
Morale: 8
Hoard Class: XVIII
XP: 33

Enslavers are a cephalopod-like semi-humanoid race originally engineered by Brain Lashers for the purpose of hunting down and capturing food. Although still found in service to their designers, they have been found to be in service to other creatures and even as independent slavers and pirates.

Their spineless bodies not only allow them to fit through tiny spaces and elongate their limbs into whip-like weapons, but it allows them to "roll with the punch." As a result, they only take half-damage from all normal attacks. Cold and fire attacks do normal damage and they take double damage from electrical attacks.

Although capable of using normal weapons when attacking, Enslavers prefer to attack first by elongating their limbs in whip-like fashion. A successful attack does no damage, but requires the target to save vs. spells or drop their weapon. Regardless of the success or failure of the save, the Enslaver gets a +2 on their next attack roll. This second attack normally utilizes the mass of squirming tentacles Enslavers have in place of a face. A successful attack has a similar effect as a Sleep spell (no save). This attack is not magical in nature and therefore can affect elves.

Enslavers have ultraviolet vision.

Lost Colonies Session 46

2011-11-14T14:12:00.000-06:00

I have to admit, I had a lot of fun this session because one of the things I enjoy most is watching players react to circumstances and this session saw a lot of really great reactions.

After doing some last minute purchases and other house keeping, the party secured the services of a sailing ship to take them down the coast to the elf lands. They never got there.

In preparation for the evening's fun, I had pre-rolled random encounters and this is where I have to admit that I do not always strictly follow random table rolls. The primary reason I like to use random tables is that they challenge me to be creative. Therefore, when I am inspired by a roll that does not necessarily strictly adhere to the result I will run with it.

In this particular case, there was to be one encounter with pirates. Now, as much as I love Errol Flynn's Captain Blood, I am not much interested in pirates in context of a fantasy campaign. However, one of the most intriguing monster entries from Realms of Crawling Chaos is the Moon Thing. Though they are inspiringly characterized as squishy toad-like semi-humanoids with a mass of tentacles instead of a face, the most consequential description about them is this:

Moon things have an affinity for the sea, and are sailors, pirates, and slavers. They capture humans to sell as slaves in faraway lands and on other planets.

Therefore, this became the basis for what appeared on the horizon as the players lazily sailed south (even though Hamlen had bought some pipes and was annoying everyone as he tried, and failed, to become a competent musician.

Using his spyglass, Dn. Swibish caught a glimpse of a shadowed outline within what appeared to be a storm cloud. Given that the rest of the party has often accused the deacon from Redwraith of exaggeration, his warnings went unheeded until it was too late. A fast moving galley sporting a tentacled ram slammed into the side of their ship and engaged boarding ramps.

The subsequent battle did not go well for the moon things. Despite managing to flank the party, incapacitating and even capturing several party members and crew, the moon things were made mince meat. The party made good use of spells, missile weapons from the crow's nest and coordinated attacks.

However, the moon things were not alone. They were being lead by another Yellow Face, this one apparently with mental powers able to do damage by just thinking about it (literally). Therefore, despite the relative success against the moon things, the party very quickly had to concentrate fire on Yellow Face in order to neutralize him as soon as possible. This gave the haggard moon things the chance to get away with prisoners.

The pirate galley began to pull away from the party's ship with captives in tow, so the party went on the offensive. This is when things started to go south for the party. Coleman and Raine (two of the newer characters) failed to cleanly jump across, which resulted in their capture. Getting rid of Yellow Face also proved much more difficult than anticipated (despite a successful Hold spell).

This capture and delay allowed the pirates enough time to start up their engines, create an energy field and hop into a different dimension. This encouraged the party to rush below deck where they found their captive party members and crew plugged into a large magical/biological engine, having replaced several desiccated and emaciated corpses on the floor.

Unfortunately for the party, some of this vision was a mental illusion and when they went to rescue their companions, they instead found themselves in range of the melee attack of a Brain Lasher. This reveal, by the way, produced one of the truly great reactions of the campaign so far.

I have been hinting throughout the campaign that Brain Lashers are lurking behind the scenes, but this is the first time the party came face to face with one. Dn. Goram has been voicing fear of ever encountering one ever since the very first cthuloid visage showed up in the campaign. Upon actually seeing one, his player (and therefore Dn. Goram) completely freaked out.

It all came down to one initiative roll. Dn. Swibish was in the grip of the Brain Lasher and his brain was poised to be sucked out of his skull. Had the party lost initiative, he would have died.

While he was beating the Brain Lasher corpse into pulp (to make sure it was dead-dead), the rest of the party was busy exploring those things that the illusion had hidden. They found their captured party members alive, but minus several INT points (brain damage from being plugged into the machine). There was a wonderful aha! moment when the party put the pieces together and correctly surmised that the Brain Lasher had raided their vessel in order to refuel.

The main part of the vessel disguised by the illusion was the cockpit, wherein controls seemed to be hooked up to the cranium of the pilot. There was also a large dial covered in an unknown writing.

The session ended with the party realizing that they had to somehow figure out how to power and pilot this vehicle if they wished to get home.

Saintly Saturday: St. Martin of Tours

2011-11-12T06:00:00.012-06:00

As Theodoric pointed out yesterday, most of the world commemorates St. Martin of Tours on November 11th; however, there are pockets where his feast is kept on the 12th — which is where he appears on the Greek calendar. Therefore, those of us who like him have an excuse for celebrating two days in a row.

St. Martin was a 4th century bishop born to pagan parents. He became a catechumen (someone studying to become a Christian) at a young age. Baptized at the age of 22, he went on to become a monastic in Gaul before taking on the mantel of a bishop.

One of the most famous stories of St. Martin comes from when he was still a catechumen. He was serving in the Roman army when he saw an ill-clad beggar asking for alms. With nothing but the clothes on his back to give, the saint tore his military cloak in two and gave half to the beggar. Later that night, Jesus Christ Himself appeared to Martin, clothed in the cloak he had given the beggar.

This cloak was then kept as a relic in a sanctuary. In latin, the word cloak is cappella which is what the sanctuary came to be called. Those who took care of the sanctuary came to be called cappellani. In English, these two words form the basis from which we get the words chapel and chaplain.

Besides my own personal love and interest in St. Martin, I was also very eager to delve into his life because he informs by own understanding of Averoigne. Though Tours is outside the traditional boundaries of where Averoigne is thought to be, St. Martin nonetheless casts a very large shadow over Gaul and even over all of Western Christendom. He was instrumental in sowing the seeds that would blossom into the Western monastic tradition. Therefore, St. Martin is a figure I very much want to bring into the tapestry that is my version of Averoigne.

One easy way to do this is to simply have his cappella as a clerical magical artifact in the campaign. Indeed, there are plenty of examples of relics of saints that are pieces of clothing. I personally have seen shoes and strips of cloth used as foci for prayer and indeed a source of healing. Therefore, there are a plethora of opportunities to place unique magic items within a campaign world.

The Cloak of St. Martinus

This disheveled and apparently misused cloak has been torn in two and sown back together again; however, it radiates of magic if a Detect Magic spell is cast upon it. It is wearable by anyone, and its affects depend upon wearer's Wisdom score.

For those that have a penalty due to a low Wisdom, the cloak serves as a Cloak of Protection. The protection bonus is the inverse score of the Wisdom penalty. Thus, for someone with a Wisdom score of 3 (which has a penalty of -3), the cloak would have a bonus of +3.
For those who have a Wisdom bonus, the cloak grants bonus cleric spells: one 1st level if the bonus is +1, one 2nd level if the bonus is +2 and one 3rd level if the bonus is +3. These spells are cumulative (a Wisdom score of 18 would grant 3 spells — one each: 1st, 2nd and 3rd) and are in addition to any other bonus spells a cleric may already receive for a high Wisdom. These bonus spells are granted to anyone regardless of class and are determined randomly. The spells stay until they are used in a creative/productive manner (no casting a utility spell like Water Breathing just to get rid of it).
For those who have no Wisdom Bonus, the cloak allows an Augury spell to be cast once per day.

An Elegant Astral Plane

2011-11-11T22:28:00.001-06:00

Just a quick note: I have had a very busy week with a combination of travel out of town and family in town. So, it has been relatively quiet around here; however, I did want to share a thought that occurred to me after reading James' post on the Astral Plane.

I have long been fascinated by the possibility of planar travel in D&D. The closest I have ever come to it in play, however, was a semi-Monte Haul campaign I played when I was (much) younger. It pitted my paladin against the likes of Githyanki and their ilk. While I did have fun playing in that campaign, I have never bothered to run one similar myself because, like James, I found all the specific fiddly bits surrounding planar travel to be unwieldy and discouraging. This has always been a disappointment because I have always liked the idea (one of the only reasons why I look back on the paladin vs. Githyanki campaign with any fondness at all).

I have therefore been contemplating simple ways to indicate that players are no longer in Kansas anymore. One of the more interesting experiments I ran during my Lost Colonies campaign saw the players in a City of Brass-type setting. In order to clue the players into the fact that this was abnormal, we used a combat system similar to that of Chainmail rather than D&D. In other words, simple (and universal) mechanics can go a long way to achieving the feel of planar travel.

One of the more compelling ideas I had this week (particularly for the Astral plane) was to switch around the affects of characteristic bonuses. Thus, the three physical abilities (Str, Dex and Con) would effectively function as Int, Wis and Cha and vice versa. Thus, that 18 Str fighter with a 3 Int would suddenly be fighting at a -3 rather than a +3. Mechanically, this simply implies that physical tasks in the Astral Plane are rather tasks of the intellect and will and that intellectual matters are more akin to a physical self-awareness.

What other simple mechanical changes could represent other planes?

Lost Colonies Session 45

2011-11-07T21:47:00.000-06:00

This last session was primarily about logistics. The party wanted to get back to Headwaters in order to be reunited with Hamlen and Grak in addition to taking care of some unfinished business (mainly, retrieving a dragon's hoard that they had not been able to haul out of the dungeon in the wake of the near TPK when confronting said dragon). It also saw the introduction of several new players (including a father/son combo). So we had to set aside some time to trying to introduce folks to the system and allow them to roll up characters.

The center piece of the evening was a three-way battle for the dragon hoard. A tribe of bugbears had discovered the dragon lair and were in process of claiming it as their own when a bulette showed up looking for a meal (I love random encounter tables). The battle was such that some of the higher level characters could wade into the midst of the melee while the lower level characters were able to be tactically significant by raining down missile fire at areas not currently occupied by party members (never underestimate the value of concentrated missile fire — it can be devastating).

Once the treasure was loaded into several wagons procured to transport the hoard, and subsequently divvied up among the party, the players spent the rest of the evening spending it. As I've said before, I find the house rule attributed to Arneson of 1 gp spent = 1 xp quite useful. Here are several capital investments that occurred during this session:

Hamlen contracted workers to start building a dojo-like sword fighting school.
Ahkmed began excavation for his underground home.
Dn. Goram got some monastics to start on the elvish illuminated text of Scripture.
Several party members pooled resources to hire workers to repair the bridge destroyed several sessions ago by a possessed cloud giant.

These last two happened in the environs of the main human city in my campaign, Trisagia. The party set about getting several pieces of equipment unavailable in Headwaters and then hired a ship to take them back to the elf lands. It seems as if they are interested in playing politics…we'll see.

I forget where, but someone in the blogosphere wondered what would happen to a local economy if a party of adventurers started throwing around bunch of gold. Would there be a lot of inflation? Would it destroy the local economy? etc.

If a lot of money were being poured into the same products in the same economic space, this would increase demand and therefore result in a price hike. My players, however, have been careful how they have spent their money. They have spread out their purchases across a broad landscape, both physically and economically.

As a result, they have attracted workers, created jobs and encouraged economic growth. They have started businesses (a cheese factory, a winery and a tavern). They have created new opportunities for NPCs and workers (by continuing to have building projects). The bridge that is being repaired is being fixed in order to restore the flow of trade between Trisagia and Headwaters.

All in all, the only impact my players have had on the economy, that I can justify, is a positive one. Headwaters is growing because of it.

Saintly Saturday: St. Raphael of Brooklyn

2011-11-05T09:43:00.000-05:00

Today is one of two recognized feast days for St. Raphael of Brooklyn, one of the most recently recognized Orthodox Christian saints (glorified in 2000). These two feast days are February 27 and the first Saturday of November (which places it shortly prior to Raphael's own patronal feast for the Archangels on November 8).

St. Raphael was born Rafla Hawaweeny in Beirut, Lebanon in 1860 where his parents had fled from Damascus in Syria due to religious persecution. In 1879 he was tonsured a monk. After receiving a theological education at the Theological School at Halki (in Turkey — which, by the way, has been shut down by Turkish authorities since 1971) where he was ordained to the deaconate in 1885. He then went to study at the Theological Academy in Kiev where he was ordained a priest in 1889. He was then invited to New York to become the pastor of the city's Syro-Arab Orthodox Christian community (which would later move to Brooklyn). He arrived in New York in November of 1895.

He would spent the rest of his life traveling the U.S. seeking out Orthodox Arabs to minister to them, and to gather them together. Before his death in 1915 he had established 30 parishes and had gathered together around 25,000 faithful. He was also involved in founding St. Tikhon's Orthodox Monastery (which is also now a seminary). In 1904 he was the first Orthodox Christian bishop ordained in North America.

Although St. Raphael is a fantastic example of the kind of wandering cleric one might expect in a D&D campaign (and even demonstrates how, in extreme situations, priests and bishops will wander far and wide), I am going to indulge in a little Gamer ADD. Given the relative modernity of St. Raphael, he provides a marvelous model for the wandering holy man in a wide range of setting and genre-based games.

Let me preface this by reminding folks that today Orthodox Christianity uses a version of the Divine Liturgy that was redacted by St. John Chrysostom in the 4th century using a version even earlier than that. Despite the radical changes that the world has gone through in the last sixteen centuries, Orthodox Christianity has stayed true to what has been passed down from generation to generation. This is not due to a reticence to change with the times, but rather out of an ability to make that which was passed down relevant to each successive age.

This is my way of pointing out that sixteen centuries from now, the Orthodox Church will still be with us and most likely will still be praying the same words St. John Chrysostom wrote sixteen hundred years ago and that we pray today. Therefore, any genre that hypothesizes a world based on our own ought to have a place for a St. Raphael — a wandering Christian missionary — even if it only ever remains a potentiality.

One of my pet peeves about the sci-fi genre (particularly in the last two decades or so) is that it not only ignores this potentiality, but actively tries to deny it. Despite surviving heresy and schism, Roman persecutions, Persian invasions, Muslim conquests, and Communist depravities, Christianity will somehow disappear in the face of modern science? Really?

It is for this reason that one of my all-time favorites in any medium of sci-fi is Firefly/Serenity. Joss Whedon is honest enough to make Christianity and Christian characters part of his story.

Indeed, Malcom Reynolds is a great simile for the modern American. Despite all his protestations to the contrary, Christianity forms the core of his principles and often explains why he makes the choices that he does.

St. Raphael himself personifies an archetype appropriate for such games as Boot Hill, Deadlands and Weird West. For another example from popular culture, let me highlight my favorite Gene Wilder movie, The Frisco Kid where he plays a rabbi trying to cross the country to minister to the Jewish Community in San Francisco.

This archetype is easily applicable to such hard sci-fi games as Traveller, Thousand Suns and Stars Without Number. Book from Firefly/Serenity is an excellent example.

Even in games that envision a world that destroyed itself (such as Gamma World), Christianity was part of that past and (through the power of the Holy Spirit) could have either survived or be part of a character's quest to recover.

In other words, my love of the cleric class goes far beyond the confines of D&D and its descendants and St. Raphael is my guide.

On Elven Clerics

2011-11-04T12:22:00.000-05:00

One of the things that I adore about actually playing (as opposed to just thinking about playing) is that you are forced to consider things that would never occur to you otherwise. Living inside the bubble of intellectual exercise it is easy to be a purist, where your favorite ruleset perfectly meshes with your vision of the campaign world and the way you want the game to be played. Once you give up control and allow the messiness of an actual campaign, however, the intellectual exercise makes less and less sense.

As I mentioned in my last session report on Lost Colonies, some of my players have pooled a considerable amount of money in order to build a church in the elf lands — something that has never been done before. This comes on the tails of the party helping out the elves in dramatic fashion, all the while saying that their problems are better dealt with a dash of faith. A faith, by the way, that would be largely appealing to those elves of the Summer Court.

In the (in)famous verse Gen 1:28, God gives humanity dominion over all of creation:

Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the east, and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.

In Greek, the word translated as subdue has as its root kyrios, meaning lord. This is a title given to God — thus, God is commanding us to have a relationship with creation as He has. This view is reinforced when one looks at the Hebrew for the word translated as dominion. The literal meaning is to tread in a wine press. In other words, we are to be co-creators with God and we are to offer up our creative efforts to God. It is significant that verb has the visual image of the wine press — creating something that, by offering it to God, becomes the Blood of Christ. This kind of relationship with nature is right up the elves' alley.

Therefore, due entirely to play, am forced to consider something I have never before allowed in any game I have ever played — an elven cleric. Looking at the rules as written (AEC/1ed), elves can advance to 7th level and half-elves to 5th level. Personally, this doesn't make much sense to me. I can understand why an elf would be less likely to advance to higher levels using divine rather than arcane magic, but why are half-elves so much worse? If being a cleric is a human thing, how is it that a half-elf would be less inclined to divine magic than an elf, who is completely alien to humanity?

The AEC is more generous with potential fighter levels than 1ed. Elves can advance to 10th level (as opposed to 7th) and half-elves can go to 12th level (as opposed to 8th). I believe this discrepancy originates in the fact that the AEC operates in a system where race-as-class is an option. Therefore, going the multi-class route needs to be comparable to the race-as-class or there is no point in allowing the multi-class option in the first place.

This begs the question: why shouldn't elven clerics simply be a race-as-class that casts divine magic instead of arcane magic? While I really like this approach (being partial to race-as-class), I am not particularly comfortable with the idea of elves running around like super-paladins (despite the extra XP requirements, it would be awfully tempting to go with an elf over the cleric). It also removes some of the alien-ness of elves.

A more attractive option, taking a cue from Genesis 1:28, is to allow Istinite elves to cast Druid spells. This differentiates them from ordinary elves and maintains that alien-ness that I like to have with my demi-humans (especially since no one else would be casting druid spells).

One aspect of this that I find particularly interesting is that this will likely sour relationships between the Summer and Winter Courts. Whereas the Winter Court is all about cheating death, a Summer Court dominated by Istinite elves would be quite comfortable with death. What had been a rather cordial relationship (because all Summer Court elves knew they would one day be members of the Winter Court) could become downright hostile.

Lost Colonies Session 44

2011-11-02T19:52:00.000-05:00

This session saw the first major battle of the campaign as the party took part in eradicating the undead horde that they unleashed upon the elf lands. Unfortunately, I am not familiar with any kind of macro-battle system that works to my liking (not that I have had any burning desire or need to look very hard) and my group wasn't very much into the idea of running a large scale battle against the ghouls. What to do?

We began the session with a review of the situation for those who had missed one or more sessions. I then let the players plan, interact with NPCs, answered any questions and provided guidance as to what was available to them in terms of troops, equipment and terrain. The plan that they came up with was actually quite ingenious.

Their objective was to lure the ghouls along some cliffs (a major geological feature of the area) and then pummel them from above using both elven archers and boulder-throwing cloud giants. Ground troops could then encircle to cut off escape and take care of any stragglers.

In such cases, what I try to do in order to make the players feel like they had a role in the larger picture without having to resort to playing out that bigger picture is to remove one or more major pieces of their desired outcome. It is then up to the players to get those pieces back on the board. In this case, their plan relied heavily on the presence of cloud giants. Therefore, the session involved the party making sure that those giants could make it to the battle.

It turned out that the reason that Yellow Face and his charmed ogres and half-giants were able to so easily overrun the castle of the cloud giant king was that there was a traitor inside and that it was grossly undermanned. When the king disappeared, he took his personal guard with him. On top of that, the traitor convinced the queen to send out search parties.

By interviewing Ornak the Half-giant, the party learned that the search party going north was likely wiped out by another tribe of half-giants led by another spell casting Yellow Face. This group was most likely going to arrive at the undermanned castle prior to the undead horde.

The party, therefore, had to defend the castle and find one or more of the remaining search parties in order to be able to have any cloud giants available for the final battle against the ghouls. To my players' credit, they did both with aplomb and careful planning. As a result, I ruled that the battle went off as planned, although Dn. Swibish was certain that their had been around 2000 ghouls when they unleashed the undead horde but he estimated that the battle saw the demise of only about 1800. The party assumed the missing ghouls were due to the efforts of the former Winter King, which he had promised to the Summer Court before mysteriously disappearing.

I have to admit that this whetted my appetite for more larger scale battles — especially since the party is getting up in level and therefore is beginning to think in terms of building strongholds (indeed, the session ended with Dn. Goram and Dn. Swibish pooling their resources to build the first church in the elf lands and to commission an illuminated text of scripture translated into elvish). At some point I am going to want to give the party the opportunity to head up armies and not just a handful of henchman and followers.

Thus, I will end with a series of questions:

Have you ever run a big battle in your campaign? If so, what system did you use and why? How'd it work out?

Meditating on Horror

2011-10-31T10:35:00.000-05:00

It is Halloween and I have a confession to make. This is going to sound awfully strange coming from a guy who is such a big HPL fan, but I find supernatural horror really boring. Yep. Boring. As I grow older, the more annoying Halloween gets, because everybody gets all excited about something that I would rather not waste my time on (not to mention the fact that in the Orthodox Christian calendar, All Saints is celebrated the Sunday after Pentecost). Yet, here I am explaining myself:

The Lord asked Cain, 'Why are you angry and downcast? If you are doing right, surely you ought to hold your head high! But if you are not doing right, Sin is crouching at the door hungry to get you. You can still master him.' — Genesis 4:6-7

In the Hebrew, the word translated here as crouching is related to a Chaldean name for a demon that crouches in doorways waiting to devour its prey. Thus, the imagery of the language can be translated thusly:

There is a demon crouched ready to devour you, sin is the means by which you let him in. Despite this, you can still master him.

Sans Christ, in the immediate wake of The Fall, Cain had the power to overcome demons. With Christ and the power of His Cross, demons don't stand a chance. The only way a demon can possess a person or a house is if we let them. Therefore, when it comes to all this supernatural horror stuff, I have a very difficult time suspending my disbelief.

Therefore, it might surprise you that I have a reputation among several of my players of being one of the most successful Referees for bringing horror and terror to the game table. The secret is figuring out who the real monsters are.

The last time I was really scared at the movie theater was when I went to see Silence of the Lambs (which, by the way, demonstrates two truths: 1) I have three kids and have neither the time nor the budget to go see movies in the theater anymore and 2) the overall quality of movies in the last twenty years has so dramatical gone into the tank that Hollywood has utterly failed to make me miss going to the movie theater). Hannibal Lector is one of the truly terrifying movie monsters of all time, because he forces us to realize that we have seen the most horrific monster in the universe and it is us.

The best horror merely holds up a mirror. Whether or not intended, the work of HPL is a marvelous critique of secularism, atheism and scientism* because it holds up a mirror to the terrifying reality of a world without God. This terror and horror has been loosed upon the world every time atheism has been writ large upon a society, any society.

There is a reason why the big bad guys in my campaigns tend to be human. There is a reason why my monsters personify sin. There is a reason why RPGs and not movies are the best medium for telling horror tales — we must confront the horror of our own choices (and kick butt when we make the right ones).

*Scientism is the (false) belief that science is capable of answering questions that it is not designed to do — things more properly answered by philosophy and theology.

Saintly Saturday: St. Serapion of Zarzma

2011-10-29T09:44:00.000-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Serapion of Zarzma, a 10th century saint who is primarily remembered by the Georgian Orthodox Church. He grew up as part of a wealthy family (his father was a Klarjeti aristocrat); however, this did not matter when both of his parents died when he was young. He and his brother were taken in by St. Michael of Parekhi, known as a wonderworker and a teacher of orphans.

St. Serapion became a priest, and, after St. Michael was instructed in a vision to send them, built a monastery with his brother in the village of Zarzma.

Though the life of St. Serapion is fairly simple — he spent his life building and maintaining a monastery — I find inspiration in where he built the monastery.

Firstly, there is this really cool map (which I found here):

Secondly, the regional name (Klarjeti) and the name of the village and monastery (Zarzma) just sound like they belong in a FRPG campaign world.
Finally, take a look at the Georgian (Mkhedruli) alphabet:

Personally, I am a big fan of puzzles, especially codes. When I find that any of my players share the same interest, I will sprinkle my dungeons with treasure maps, riddles and inscriptions written in ancient versions of known languages. Thus, I can write out whatever I want in plain English, substitute each letter with a cool looking symbol/rune/foreign character and then inform the players that they recognize one simple word (like 'the'). They then get to decode the message for themselves. Once a language code is broken, they get to go back to their original find and piece together any new messages they find. This is a great (and fun) way to simulate reading ancient texts. The Georgian (Mkhedruli) alphabet is a perfect candidate for such a use.

I'll end with a couple of questions:

Which language would you use the Georgian (Mkhedruli) alphabet to simulate?
Are there any other alphabets that you use to simulate FRPG languages in your campaign?

Monster: Half-Giant

2011-10-27T21:00:00.000-05:00

For those of you who are interested, here are the stats I used for the half-giants from the last session of my Lost Colonies campaign.

Half-Giant

The giants were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. — Genesis 6:4

Number Appearing: 2d8
% in Lair: 15%
Alignment: Neutral
Armor Class: 4
Move: 9
Hit Dice: 5+5
Attacks: 1d10+3
Special: Surprise on 1-3, backstab
Save: F6
Morale: 9
Hoard Class: VI + VII (individuals); XVIII (in lair)
XP: 660

These desert-dwelling nomads are called half-giants due to their size, but are actually more closely related to goblins (though some will claim giant ancestry and the odd scholar will insist that they are a result of a magical accident). Half-giants are experts at ambush. They surprise on a 1-3 and while attacking from surprise they do double damage.

Lost Colonies Session 43

2011-10-26T17:21:00.000-05:00

Due mainly to illness, our numbers for this session were small, but we did have a new player at the table. He declared that he wanted to play a Thief as written (rather than my attempt at a sub-class), so I let him arrange his stats. Given the fact that the party was currently in elf lands, I also gave him the option to be an elf or half-elf according to the AEC rules. In order to justify why he was a thief rather than a regular spell-casting elf, he decided to go with the half-elf option and Raine became the newest PC in the party.

Since none of the cleric PCs were available due to the aforementioned illness, the party decided to reign in any grandiose plans, not only because adventuring sans clerics can be deadly, but for the practical reason that, for the time being, the home base needed to be the Summer Court for when the rest of our players are well enough to join in.

Feeling a tad bit guilty over their antics last session, by which they avoided taking responsibility for unleashing an undead horde upon the elf lands, they decided to offer their services to the Summer King as emissaries to the Cloud Giant King, whose castle was within a days travel upon eagle-back and who had a standing treaty with the elves.

When they arrived, however, they found that the King was missing and his castle had been overrun by half-giants and ogres. During their investigations, they learned that the Queen had escaped, but most likely was trapped somewhere inside the castle and that the leader of the half-giants and ogres was called Yellowface.

Most of this information they got from a half-giant named Ornak. Through some really good roleplaying and a clever use of spells, they managed to convince the half-giant to switch sides. With this new ally, and some information gained via a Clairvoyance spell, the party arranged a brilliant ambush of Yellowface (who turned out to be one their old nemeses — those who wear the golden masks). This created enough chaos within the castle to allow them to find and rescue the queen, which is where the session ended.

A few notes about how I ran this session:

This is where I get to admit that I am a minimalist when it comes to preparation. This session is a classic example of why.

At the beginning of the evening, I didn't know whether or not the castle of the Cloud Giant King had been over-run or that half-giants charmed by a mask-wearing magic user were the main culprits or that half-giants were normally desert nomads that minded their own business and were happy to leave well enough alone.

I had in mind both a location (the castle of the Cloud Giant King) and an event (the disappearance of the king and the ransacking of the castle). I knew the party was likely to go the the location, I just didn't know whether or not the event had happened yet.

Due to the needs of the evening (keeping everybody entertained within close proximity to the Summer Court) I decided to have the event occur; however, it was originally meant to be accomplished with a group of evil giants. Such a reality was beyond the ability of the party. Therefore, I changed the intended giant invasion to a group of half-giants and ogres led by a magic-user in order to make the situation on par with the power of the party.

This may sound as if I need to hand in my OSR membership card, but I make a huge distinction between events and locations. Had the party decided to go explore a castle occupied by giants, I would have given them giants, not half-giants and ogres. The difference is based on choice and who makes the choice. An adventure based on location comes out of player choice, so whatever lives there, lives there. Events are my choice, therefore I feel obligated to make sure that such things are mostly about information (feeding player choice). If that information comes via combat, I want to make sure that it is something that will challenge, not overwhelm.

Thus, spurred by the necessity to replace giants with something less overwhelming and the fact that my players like talking to my monsters, half-giants were born. They now wander the deserts in small tribes mostly minding their own business. Had I been anything more than a minimalist in my preparations, half-giant desert nomads would not now be a part of my campaign world.

An Update on St. Nicholas

2011-10-24T10:39:00.000-05:00

Back on September 10th, I wrote some of my feelings about the state of affairs at Ground Zero, specifically about a little Greek Orthodox Church that was destroyed a decade ago on 9/11 called St. Nicholas. I just wanted to let everyone to know that things have radically changed in the last month. The Port Authority of New York and the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America have finally come to a firm agreement and St. Nicholas finally has a home at Ground Zero. With God's help, the building will begin sometime in the next year or so.

For those of you interested, you can listen to a pod-cast interview with Fr. Mark Arey, the point-man for the Archdiocese for these kinds of things, on the story of St. Nicholas, why this process took so long and how the Archdiocese and the Port Authority finally came to terms here.

Thanks be to God.

Saintly Saturday: St. Abercius of Hierapolis

2011-10-22T09:35:00.000-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Abercius the Wonderworker of Hierapolis and is a remarkable way to end this particular week. He was a 2nd century bishop in the Phrygian city of Hierapolis where the cult of Apollo was not only popular, but the chief patron of the city. While the city was celebrating a festival in honor of their favorite deity, St. Abercius received a revelation where he was instructed to destroy the idols.

That night he snuck into the temple and proceeded to overturn all of the statues therein. As dawn broke and the revelers discovered the saint's work, he boldly declared that all the gods must have become drunk from the quantity of libations offered them and then got into a fight with each other in their drunken confusion.

Enraged at the insult to their gods, a mob began to form in order to take revenge. They were stopped in their tracks by fear, however, when St. Abercius cast out demons from three young men. Upon hearing the Gospel, the crowd and then the city became Christian. St. Abercius reposed in peace near the end of the second century.

I find it remarkable that at the end of a week where I asked the question Is Christianity Compatible With D&D that I get to tell the story of a Christian saint involved in what can only be called a trope of both Sword & Sorcery tales and D&D. The scenario of sneaking into a temple to either steal stuff or do damage plays a significant part in my own formation as an S&S fan and a D&D player.

My introduction to the genre was Lawrence Watt-Evans second installment of his Lords of Dûs series, The Seven Altars of Dûsarra:

The crux of the story has Garth the Overman sneaking into all the temples of the Dark Gods in order to steal whatever is on their altars.

I realize that there is many an REH fan who despises Swarzenegger's Conan the Barbarian (I tentatively place myself among them); however, it was my first "D&D movie" and I still get a kick out of how Conan and company steal the Eye of the Serpent from the Temple of Set.

Speaking of REH, I came late to the creator of Conan. As many before me, I have come to really enjoy his stories. My favorite is The God in the Bowl which sees Conan sneaking into what the locals call Kallian Publico's Temple

Lest we forget, the idea of sneaking into temples are part and parcel to several modules from the early days of the hobby:

A1 Slave Pits of the Undercity

C1 Hidden Shrine of Tanoachan

D2 Shrine of the Kuo-Toa

T1-4 The Temple of Elemental Evil

WG 4 The Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun

I am sure these are not the last and that I am leaving out others. Needless to say, this just goes to show that even saints have been known to sneak into places to do things we might only expect a D&D PC to do…

A Paladin in Hell

2011-10-21T15:06:00.000-05:00

I was inspired by the last few days of discussion and decided to do a little homage to one of my favorite pieces of D&D art, not just in the PH but in the whole history of the game. Of course, you might notice that my version of the paladin is not wearing full plate, but is rather modeled after the Varangian Guard — an elite unit primarily made up of Norseman who served as the personal guard of the Roman Emperor in Constantinople from approximately the 10th-14th century (and who had a chapel in the City dedicated to St. Olaf). This, in part, explains the axe (along with the fact that I just dig fighters who use non-sword weapons).

In addition, according to the cosmology of 1e AD&D, this battle-to-be should be taking place in the Abyss, not in Hell (given that Demogorgon is a demon, not a devil); however, from a Christian perspective, there isn't any distinction between the two. If it matters to you, I suppose you can call this one A Varangian in the Abyss...

Why the OSR Rocks

2011-10-20T15:00:00.001-05:00

When I asked the question Is Christianity Compatible With D&D the other day, I had no idea it would make its way across so much of the OSR. Along the way, however, something quite wonderful happened.

Firstly, religion (and Christianity, in particular) can be a touchy subject. Throughout this ongoing discussion (despite the wide ranging viewpoints and experience of those who voiced their opinion) I never felt as if anyone didn't approach the subject without some amount of respect for the subject or for those who are in the middle of the discussion.

Secondly, James and Stuart (in what I see as an attempt to sum up the discussion) have chimed in to point out that D&D is indeed

a cultural Borg ... that rolled around borrowing from just about every source it encountered.

and this smorgasbord of options includes Christianity. Whether you roll with a heavy dose of theological Christianity (as I do), a Hammer Horror version of Christianity or none whatsoever is entirely up to you. What is important to me, at the end of the day, is the reality that all of these options are not only acceptable but supported by the game.

There was a time in my life, not so long ago, that had I asked the question Is Christianity Compatible With D&D, I very much doubt that such an acknowledgment would have been made. For that I'd like to take a moment to thank all of you and to remind folks what a cool place this corner of the internet happens to be.

A Monster Substitution Thought Experiment

2011-10-19T14:12:00.001-05:00

Those of you who have read my blog for a while may have noticed that, when doing thought experiments, I like to limit the parameters (sometimes severely). For example, when I posted about finding future/sci fi monsters in D&D I limited myself to LL, Holmes and B/X. This resulted in some thoughts I knew wouldn't have occurred to me had I included the FF, as many commentators urged me to do.

When I was in elementary school, my school district would occasionally have in their budget the ability to bring in an artist in residence to do various projects with each grade level. The one that I remember best (because she had the most impact on me as a person) was a poet. One of the major life lessons I learned from her was that parameters and limitations can actually result in better work and more creativity. My free form poetry sucked, but my couplets and haiku sang. Thus, whenever I do thought experiments, the first thing I do is set limitations and parameters, because it almost always produces better work from yours truly.

I mention this, because there is really no reason for this particular thought experiment, other than it is a parameter that I think is really interesting and cool. The other day, James over at Grognardia reminded all of us about the 3e SRD, especially all of the monsters listed therein. The post also reminded me that three of my favorite monsters from Homles and Cook are Not in the SRD:

Caecilia (can anyone say baby purple worms?)
Carrion Crawler (great for scaring the pants off of players)
Displacer Beast (one of those monsters that inspires entire adventures)

I am sure that there are many who will gladly point out that, if push comes to shove, all I have to do is rename these wonderful beasts much like Dan Proctor did for LL (Gray Worm, Carcass Scavenger and Phase Tiger for those interested). But what if that wasn't possible? What if I had to use only those monsters in the SRD? What monsters would I use in their place? As I said, a useless (but fun) thought experiment:

Frost Worm for Caecilia — I would have to reduce the number of HD (from 14 to 6) but I prefer the cold-based powers of the Frost Worm because it makes the creature more than merely a smaller version of the purple worm.
Chuula for the Carrion Crawler — Again, there needs to be a reduction in HD (11 to 3+1); however, the basic concept of the two is very similar — a worm/insect-like creature with paralyzing tentacles. The difference is that the Chuula has a pair of claws that bring in its victim and can do some actual damage as opposed to just paralysis. Thus, it can put even more fear into players.
Destrachan for the Displacer Beast — There is less of an HD discrepancy here (8 to 6) but more of a difference between the two concepts — phase displacement vs. sonic powers. If one takes into consideration the enmity with the blink dog, however, the sonic powers make more sense. Why would the blink dog ever develop the ability to blink in order to combat phase displacement (other than they seem to be related/have the same origin)? Blinking in and out in order to avoid sonic attacks, however, does make sense.

What are some of your favorite classic D&D monsters that don't show up in the SRD? What SRD monster would you be willing to substitute for them?

Is Christianity Compatible With D&D?

2011-10-17T21:51:00.000-05:00

Is Christianity compatible with D&D? This is a question that has been around since at least the early 80s, if not earlier. Those who regularly read this blog know very well that my own answer to this question is an unreserved Yes; however, it was not always so.

I am old enough to remember the Satanist scare of the eighties, and whether or not you agreed with those attacks (personally, I think they were wildly misplaced and had the opposite effect than their stated goal), they had a marked effect upon how the game is perceived. A perception, by the way, that is pervasive even today.

Starting with 2e, D&D hardwired paganism into its system. Coupled with the poor quality of TSR products thereafter, this was a huge factor in my drifting away from the game. At the time, I didn't know if I would ever be able to play again — despite the new enthusiasm for the game that 3e generated.

Thankfully, the passing of Gary Gygax stirred in me a nostalgic longing that was duplicated in many a gamer, especially of my vintage. Many of us cracked open older editions of D&D to hold onto what the world lost with the passing of Gary. Personally, I found a game not only friendly to a Christian world-view, but one that, in places, can only be described as Christ-centric.

Recently, I ran across this eye-opener while re-reading some of the monster descriptions from the Holmes Basic Edition:

All vampires, regardless of religious background, are affected by the cross which is sovereign against them.

Is there any way to see this statement as non-Christian? I, for one, can't see it.

Christ is the King of kings, sovereign Lord through whom all things were created. He is I AM, Yahweh and Elohim — He is the Most High God. He took on our nature, which was nailed to the Cross — the very place where He became the King of Glory, who has authority over both the living and the dead and through which He saved His creation. Since vampires are creatures that grasp at immortality sans Christ, His symbol of His own victory over death is repellant to them.

This, frankly, is one of the strongest Christian statements I have yet found in any of the various editions of D&D. I wish I had been aware of it back in the 80s because I could have used it to put all those anti-D&D propagandists crying "satanist!" to shame.

Saintly Saturday: St. Lucian of Antioch

2011-10-15T09:55:00.002-05:00

Today is the feast day of St. Lucian (Loukianos in Greek) of Antioch. He was born Samosata. Orphaned at the age of twelve, he became an ascetic in the city of Edessa. In due time, he was ordained as a presbyter (the official title of a priest) and opened a catechetical school in the city of Antioch. Eventually, he was arrested in Nicomedia during the persecutions of the early 4th century. After nine years in prison, he died of hunger and thirst.

One of the more interesting aspects of St. Lucian's life is his continuing influence on biblical scholarship. He did a critical revision of the text of the Septuagint (a Greek translation of the OT done by the Jews of Alexandria three centuries before Christ) by comparing it to the Hebrew. He also did a critical edition of the Greek NT.

In ancient Christendom, there were two schools of interpretation. The one based in Alexandria used a lot of symbolical interpretation. The one based in Antioch (and the one St. Lucian adhered to) insisted on a more literal sense of the biblical text. Therefore, his critical editions emphasized textual accuracy. His edition contributed significantly to what is called the Syrian Recension of the NT which not only was used by such Greek fathers as St. John Chrysostom, but eventually became the basis for the original German Luther Bible.

This brings up the issue of language. As with any post-apocalyptic campaign setting, I tend to emphasize language in my own campaign to the extent that the languages used by those who built all of these ancient ruins and the monsters who currently occupy them are different than the common language of the player characters.

In LL and B/X, demi-humans begin with the ability to speak several languages. One of the interesting consequences of this in my own game is that the demi-humans have become essential for interpreting the languages of monsters who occupy the ruins. To my mind, this does a nice job of re-enforcing the alien-ness of the demi-humans. It suggests that they are closer to monsters because they can converse with them, as opposed to the human characters which do not begin the game with the same kind of linguistic ability.

Another interesting language quirk in my own game derives from the fact that the majority of my players learned the game via 3.5. Therefore, their assumed understanding of languages is based upon this table from the SRD:

While I did resist this assumption at first, I have since basically accepted it. Though I don't necessarily like some of the specifics, I have come to really appreciate the concept of this table quite a bit. It is diverse enough to be expansive and yet concise enough as to be practical. With some simple edits, this table can be easily adapted for just about any campaign.

I'll end with a couple of questions:

How important is language to your campaign? Why?
How do you use language in your campaign?

Fighting the Future: A Monster List

2011-10-13T22:04:00.000-05:00

One of the themes that I am playing with as I work on my version of the Chateau des Faussesflammes is that of time. I plan on having various levels exist in the distant past, the distant future and, in some cases, both at the same time. One of the easiest ways to dress a level to indicate these various time frames is monsters.

There are multiple choices and themes present in Homes, Moldvay, Cook and LL for monsters of the past. The are plenty of "Lost World" monsters (dinosaurs, neanderthals, saber tooth cats, etc.) as well as ancient Greek monsters (minotaurs, cyclops, medusa etc.). The challenge I am facing is finding monsters to effectively represent the future.

What follows is a preliminary list of monsters from Homes, Moldvay, Cook and LL (those not included in Holmes and Cook will appear in [brackets]) and an explanation as to why they suggest a future timeframe to me:

[Ape, Albino] and [Baboon, Higher] — Four words: Plant of the Apes.
Black Pudding — I have always felt that black pudding would fit better on an episode of Star Trek rather than as a stand-in for some primordial slime.
Blink Dog and Displacer Beast [Phase Tiger] — These two have a definite sci-fi flavor. Their mutual hatred suggests a level of intelligence not necessarily represented in their statistics. I image the displacer beasts to be the equivalent of space-born Nazi war criminals and the blink dogs to be akin to a space-faring version of the Mossad hunting them down. The only question is, are the blink dogs actual agents or are they the pack of hunting dogs used by the agents (which would be some other kind of alien)?
Carrion Crawler [Carcass Scavenger] — This tentacled monstrosity has more than a little HPL-inspired flavor. While I do use HPL as inspiration a lot, I usually do so from a sci-fi/futuristic POV rather than a fantasy one.
Doppleganger — I despised DS9, but Odo proved the doppleganger is just as appropriate for a sci-fi setting as it is for a fantasy setting (if not moreso).
Gelatinous Cube — I have an easier time believing this to be the result of a science experiment gone wrong than the consequence some kind of magical research.
Ghoul, [Ghast] — These undead most closely resemble the zombies found in all those zombie apocalypse movies cranked out by Hollywood every couple of years.
Golem, Bronze — This could very easily be re-skinned as a robot.
Gorgon — Likewise, this could easily pass as some kind of living machine.
Men, Berserker — Reavers. Serenity. Nuff Said.
[Morlock] — as an homage to the inhabitants of H.G. Wells' dystopian future from The Time Machine, this is one of the few (if not only) D&D monster that is explicitly from the future.
Ochre Jelly — Described as a giant amoeba, I can't help but think of the Invisible Monster from the episode of the same name from the first season of Johnny Quest. (This could also be the inspiration for the Invisible Stalker; however, I like Ochre Jellies better)
Owl Bear — although described as the result of a magical experiment, this could also easily pass for a mutant from the future or the result of a genetic experiment.
Rust Monster — These guys just beg to be seen as biological constructs created to clean up abandoned cities after some kind of future war that levels most, if not all, urban centers.
[Statue, Animate (Iron)] — Like the Bronze Golem above, this can easily be re-skinned as a robot.
Zombie — While ghouls and ghasts do more accurately depict Hollywood's version of zombies, that doesn't mean I can't also have the D&D version, too.

Lost Colonies Session 42

2011-10-11T17:30:00.000-05:00

This session started out with a decision by fiat on my part. No one was particularly interested in fighting 2,000+ ghouls, especially since Dn. Goram's player was unable to be with us. I ruled that with the head start the players could get on the oncoming ghoul horde and with the party including one cleric able to turn ghouls automatically and one the could turn on a 3 or more, the party could escape. They boarded the elven sky galley and raced back to the Summer Court.

Assuming that the Winter King had an answer for dealing with the ghoul horde bearing down on the elflands (since he was responsible for creating it in the first place), the party rushed off to the underwater city in order to deliver the Obsidian Hand to the Winter King. They began to question the wisdom of their actions when the Winter King immediately chopped off his own hand in order to replace it with the one the party provided him.

The Winter King's transformation was a painful one, but once complete he seemed to believe that his affliction could no longer affect elven kind — because he claimed no longer to be an elf. He then explained that he needed to inform the elves that he was no longer the Winter King. When informed of the ghoul horde, he quietly acknowledged his part in its creation and vowed to help stop it.

Completely uninterested in getting embroiled in elf politics or in a battle with the ghouls, the party decided to stay underwater and go treasure hunting. So, the rest of the evening was spent doing an unusual dungeon crawl with everything underwater. And the party found treasure. Lots of it.

Two observations:

Phantasmal Force, when used correctly, can be devastating. The party ran into a magic using fishman and his guards. He created the illusion of a gigantic eel that attacked the party. It "killed" Swibish and his dwarven henchman before the party even thought about disbelieving.
I use a house rule on XP for gold attributed to Arneson — I only award the XP once the gold has been spent. When characters come across large treasure troves like this one, it creates an interesting dynamic — how are they going to spend so much money? One answer that my party has come up with is to use the treasure as capital to invest in building projects. Ahkmed has started to build a home. Pawnshee has started a cheese factory and Hamlen had built and staffed a tavern. I have encouraged this because it invests the players in the game world itself, which is then transformed by their economic ventures. These projects only go so far, however. As we wrapped up the evening's fun, the party remembered that they had a map showing where the cloud giant kingdom was. They ended by deciding that they were going to go there and see if the giants had some exotic items that they could purchase for some serious cash. Arneson's house rule has resulted in an adventure I never would have come up with on my own.

Saintly Saturday: St. Pelagia the Righteous

2011-10-08T22:30:00.000-05:00

This Saturday is the feast of St. Pelagia the Righteous. She had been a prominent pagan actress in the city of Antioch (which, in those times, meant that she was pretty much a prostitute). Where others merely saw her physical depravity, St. Nonnus, a bishop, saw her spiritual potential. He was willing to teach her the Gospel and she was baptized and then took up the life of a hermit outside of Jerusalem at the Mount of Olives.

Feigning to be a eunuch, she was well known for her piety and holiness. When she died several years later, her relics gave off the sweet odor of sanctity. Her tomb has been a place of pilgrimage ever since.

When one uses the word pilgrim or pilgrimage, I image one of two images immediately comes to mind for most people — the English settlers of New England or Muslims on their way to Mecca. It might surprise some, then, to learn that pilgrimage has been a part of the Christian experience since antiquity. We know this because of remarkable book called the Itinerarium Egeriae. It is a travel journal written by a woman from Gaul who went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in the late fourth century. Her writing is a valuable window into the status of women, Christians and the liturgy of Jerusalem in the 4th century.

What is not so surprising, however, is that pilgrim as a monster listing did not make it from the Monster Manual into the B/X edition of D&D (nor has the dervish from B/X to LL). This in part may very well have to do with the fact that religious pilgrimage is rather alien to the average American of the late 20th and early 21st centuries — despite the wealth of adventure possibilities and role playing opportunities that a random encounter with pilgrims might inspire.

I imagine that one of the greatest stumbling blocks is the actual goal of the pilgrimage itself. To that end, here is a small offering in the form of a few tables to help generate just such a destination:

Main Table (d3)

Relic
Event
Place

Relic Subtable (d3)

Bone
Skull
Piece of Clothing (shoe, belt, cloak, etc.)
Piece of Equipment (weapon, armor, shield, etc.)
Incorrupt Body (where the flesh has not decomposed)
Incorrupt Body Part (a hand, for example)

Event Subtable (d3)

Appearance of a Saint (the Virgin of Guadalupe is a well known example)
Appearance of an Angel
Miracle

Place Subtable (d3)

Tomb
Site of Martyrdom
Home of a saint (cave, monestary cell, etc.)

The Ecology of Yellow Mold

2011-10-06T14:05:00.000-05:00

I have been putting together a level for my version of the Chateau des Faussesflammes, and in process came up with another interesting ecology based upon the monsters that occupy that level. Since folks seem to enjoy my musings on such things, I thought I'd share.

The key organism in this ecology is yellow mold. It is central to two diverse groups — giant ants and troglodytes.

One of those wonderfully tantalizing monster descriptions that set my imagination on fire can be found in LL's entry on giant ants:

They will tend to only have a small amount of treasure around, from past opponents, but in some rare instances giant ants will inexplicably mine precious metals.

I've fiddled with this idea before but have never tried to explain the behavior. Carpenter ants harvest leaves in order to grow fungi that they then use to feed the colony. If some giant ants had a similar behavior there is plenty of potential for explaining this inexplicable mining instinct.

In this particular case, the giant ants harvest the leaves from the yellow musk creeper. This vicious plant has no real defense to protect itself from the giant ants, whose central nervous systems are not developed enough for the creeper to take full advantage of. However, the chemicals that would normally result in a yellow musk zombie do alter the behavior of the giant ants. In addition to the leaves from the creeper, they also begin to mine for precious metals. This, in turn attracts humanoids which can fall victim to the yellow musk creeper.

After harvesting the leaves, giant ants dust them in yellow mold spores. The combination creates a very fertile ground for the growth of yellow mold. The giant ants then feed on the mold, its spore and a liquid that they create by combining the mold with giant ant feces. This liquid is mostly used to feed giant ant pupa, but is also used by the ants to prevent the yellow mold from releasing its spores and protects flesh from the acidic touch of the mold.

Troglodytes are a subterranean sub-species of lizardmen, who all have organs that produce smell to communicate tribal affiliation, willingness to mate, anger, etc. Due to their oft dark environment, this gland came to grow all over the body of the trog, increasing the distance from which these odorous communications could be detected.

What these glands did not do however, was develop the infamous stench that causes humans and demi-humans to save vs. poison or suffer a -2 on attack rolls. This ability is the result of purposely ingesting yellow mold as part of the troglodyte diet. The ingested spores from the yellow mold alter the chemicals produced by the glands, producing a toxic mix for humans and demi-humans.

As a result, troglodytes like to live in proximity to both giant ants and yellow musk creepers. They collect the giant ant liquid to protect themselves from the yellow mold that they harvest for producing their infamous odor.

The Bard as a Prestige Class Old School Style

2011-10-04T14:32:00.000-05:00

Interesting. Just this morning I went to look at Dragon #56 to remind myself about Jeff Goelz's iteration of the bard in the wake of the interesting discussion that ensued from my post on St. Romanos. In addition, I also reviewed several other versions because I am interested in trying to allow the germ of an idea to flower — allowing the bard to be a prestige class, old-school style.

Though I have always hated the actual application of the 1ed AD&D bard, it is one of the first examples of a prestige class in D&D. I also appreciate the concept — after traveling the world, a bard has accumulated enough stories, tales, songs and information to be able to do all the things a bard does.

Thus, at 4th level a character may choose to become a bard (and this choice must be made at 4th level) — any character. This helps account for such diverse bard-like concepts as St. Romanos, Gandalf, King Henry V as well as the fast-talking, puffy sleeved fop.

In order to gain the abilities of a bard, the character must sacrifice all of the abilities they would have gained for that level from their own class, save hit dice. Thus, fighters would continue to fight as a 3rd level fighter, magic users and clerics would cast spells as at 3rd level, thief skill would remain at 3rd level, etc. Once a character becomes a bard, they advance according to the x.p. requirements of their original class. At each level they may choose to either improve their old class skills or their bard abilities by one level.

I realize that this is unbalanced in that it is much more expensive in x.p. to gain bard abilities for a magic user than a thief. I made this choice for ease of implementation — there need not be any kind of complicated X.P. chart, etc. The differences can be explained by class affinity to the bardic abilities — thieves are more naturally good at being bards than are magic users.

In thinking about how to do a bard (in a way that I'd be interested in playing one), I personally think three abilities are more-or-less universal in everyone's concept of the class:

Legend Lore
Charm
Battlefield Morale Bonus

Legend Lore is the ability to attach a story or piece of history to places and things found while adventuring. I would begin with a simple 1 in 6 chance to know something interesting. This chance goes up by 1 for every level taken in bard abilities.

Charm is potentially the most powerful and therefore abusive ability of the bard. As I see it there are three ways to limit this potential power:

Understand it as a spell and therefore limit the number of uses per day. This could be either a static number (3/day) or a number based on level (1/every three levels).
Limit its potency by allowing two saving throws — one based on the level of the bard (some kind of skill check) and another based on the level/HD of the target (normal save vs. spells). I would start this skill check at 1 in 6. This chance goes up by 1 for every level taken in bard abilities.
Remove the spell effects and tie it to monster reactions. On a successful skill check (again, beginning at 1 in 6, but with the understanding that this can be mitigated through good roleplaying) allows the bard to move a reaction check one or more categories up or down the reaction table.

Personally, I am inclined to choose the second, but include the other options for the purpose of discussion and allowing some flexibility for both Referees and players.

Battlefield Morale Bonus is normally emulated by a simple bonus to various combat rolls. Personally, I never liked this choice. It becomes necessary, however, if this ability is to have a positive effect upon PCs, who never have to check morale. In order to make the mechanism more interesting and unique, I would offer a negative effect — one per combat, a bard can force opposing monsters within 30 feet to make a morale check. This check would suffer a penalty for each subsequent improvement in bard ability. A morale check of '2' always succeeds and monsters with a morale of '12' are unaffected.

Any thoughts?

More Level Titles: Thieves

2011-10-03T10:47:00.000-05:00

This list of level titles for the Thief is my own attempt to make explicit what is implicit in OD&D — all adventurers are thieves. Therefore, this list can be applicable to every class — the thief (or burglar, as I prefer to call them) is the one class that has no other guild/set of titles as an alternative.

Implied in what follows is another robust guild structure. Note, this is not a thieves' guild as found in later iterations of the game. Rather, it is an adventurer's guild. One of the driving forces behind play, especially as portrayed in Holmes & Cook, is of a desire by the current civilization to recover that which was lost from past civilizations. This is the reason for dungeon delving and the reason that dungeons exist in the first place — there are secrets hidden in places deep built by a lost people in the ancient past.

As such, it makes sense that there would be some kind of societal structure to help support such an endeavor. The following is a way to imply that structure in the game world.

Auxillary — Though these would-be adventurers have the right to pay dues and therefore receive a discount on various adventurer-type goods as well as access to equipment not sold to the general public or otherwise tightly regulated (such as lock picks and greek fire), auxiliaries still must prove themselves in order to gain full membership.
Delver — Having survived one or more expeditions, the delver is officially enrolled in the guild. These lists are made public, therefore delvers are more likely to have access to and attract higher quality henchman.
Adventurer — The adventurer has access to guild experts to help identify and appraise treasures found on expeditions. At this point, the guild will start offering better prices for said treasures than normal street value.
Journeyman — It is expected that a journeyman provide a minimum of three different maps or tomes as donations to the guild's library. After these donations, the journeyman is granted access to the guild's library.
Compagnon — The compagnon is gifted with a necklace or other type of jewelry that when shown to any guild will allow access to that guild library.
Traveller — A traveller is granted the right to borrow a map or tome from their own guild library as long as an item of equivalent value is left in exchange.
Explorer — An explorer is granted the same privilege as a traveler for any guild library.
Burglar — A burglar has the right to "borrow" maps and/or tomes from other guild libraries (one from each) for the express purpose of creating a new guild library.
Master Burglar — A master burglar has the right to found their own guild.

Please note: the term "burglar" is understood to mean one who opens doors.

More Level Titles: Fighters

2011-10-02T16:57:00.000-05:00

For the purposes of creating level titles that reflect rank, I must admit that those for fighters are probably the most difficult. This is due to the fact that of all the core classes, the fighter is the most generic. It is designed to encompass everything from a barbarian to a knight and a rapier wielding fop to a gladiator armed with spiked gauntlets. As such, there will necessarily be less specific rights and privileges as compared to my previous efforts with clerics and magic users.

Veteran — The term veteran reflects the fact that fighters have already been involved in some kind of fighting or military action. They might have been mustered as infantry in the defense of a city, gotten into street fights as a tough or spent time in an arena as a gladiator. The starting equipment of the fighter should reflect this background. The most common weapons are spears, polearms and crossbows. However, they are discouraged from owning the status weapon of their predominant culture — these might include axes/warhammers for dwarves, longbows for elves and swords for most halflings and humans. Openly carrying weapons of any kind is strongly discouraged if allowed at all.
Man-at-Arms — A man-at-arms is someone who has chosen to live the life of a fighter. In demonstrating this commitment and the amount of skill (and luck) to become a man-at-arms, they are granted the right to bear all arms except for status weapons. In most places, however, even man-at-arms are discouraged from wearing armor or carrying more than one weapon in public.
Warrior — Warriors have earned enough respect that they are allowed to both wear armor and carry more than one weapon in public.
Swordsman — The title Swordsman reflects the status weapon of most human cultures. Among other races/cultures this title will reflect the status weapon of that culture. For example, Dwarves of this level might be known as Axeman or Hammers depending upon the tribe. These fighters have earned the privilege of openly bearing this weapon of rank in public.
Free Sword — Although most fighters are free agents who often choose to hire their services out to various entities or institutions, this freedom is not guaranteed until one achieves the title Free Sword.
Sword Master — These fighters are among the best trained warriors in the land. If they haven't already recovered a status weapon of renown through their adventuring, they are expected to pay the best smiths in the land to forge a status weapon of great quality.
Hero — These fighters are of great renown and will be well-known (if not instantly recognized) by the folks in the same local area that the fighter uses as his home base.
Champion — At this point, a fighter's fame has spread beyond the local area.
Lord — The fighter starts to attract followers from far and wide wishing to serve someone with such a lauded reputation.

Please note: this is intended to be fairly generic with a very loose guild structure (if one is there at all). Should a more robust guild structure be desirable, added privileges and obligations can be added to the above titles (or guild specific titles). It is also conceivable to have several different versions of these titles for the purposes of emulating predominant fighter-based cultures (barbarian vs. civilized, for example).

Saintly Saturday: St. Romanos the Melodist

2011-10-01T09:23:00.001-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Romanos the Melodist, one of the Orthodox Church's most celebrated hymnodists. He was born in Syria in the 5th century to Jewish parents. He later moved to Constantinople, where he became a sacristan (someone with the duty of upkeep and care of a church building) at Hagia Sophia.

Romanos was not born with a good singing voice nor was he a talented reader. In fact, on one Christmas Eve during services he read so badly that another reader had to take his place. He was devastated.

The next day, grief-stricken, he went before an icon of the Mother of God. He was then granted a vision, where the Virgin gave him a scroll which he was commanded to eat. Thus, he was given the gift of understanding, composition and hymnography as well as a gorgeous singing voice. That evening he sang his first hymn (called a kontakia, in reference to the Virgin's scroll). We still sing this hymn in the Orthodox Church every Christmas:

On this day the Virgin beareth the Transcendent in Essence; to the Unapproachable, the earth doth offer a small cave; Angels join in choir with shepherds in giving glory; with a star the Magi travel upon their journey; for our sakes is born a young Child, He that existed before the ages as God.

This is a reminder that there is one historical/literary archetype that the three/four core classes of D&D don't necessarily do very well — the bard. One could argue that a bard can be accomplished by simply re-skinning any of those core classes. St. Romanos himself seems to be a model for re-skinning the cleric, for example.

Personally, the bard is one of those class concepts that really intrigues me. There is a lot of potential here — well beyond the poofy-sleeved-lyre-playing-fop. For example, I would argue that King Henry V, as portrayed by Shakespeare, is a bard. His oratory prowess inspires his small, rag-tag band of an army to smash the superior French force despite being vastly outnumbered. I have always been interested in playing a bard in a similar light.

Unfortunately, I have never been satisfied with any version of the bard in any version of D&D or its derivatives. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something in the concept, the mechanics or just the way D&D does combat just doesn't do the bard justice. Rather than have fun with the character (which I have managed to do with virtually every other class in the game), I always seem to feel that something just doesn't work.

Therefore, I am going to end with a pair of questions:

What is your favorite version of the bard class and why?
Is there another class concept that you feel D&D has never done justice?

More Level Titles: Magic Users

2011-09-30T15:44:00.001-05:00

Please keep in mind that the following are heavily influenced by the way magic users are presented and illustrated in the Holmes Basic Edition…

Apprentice — Apprentice magic users are granted access to all first level spells and are granted the right to own a spell book (wherein are copied all first spells known by the apprentice) and to wear a magic user's robe (where coloration may indicate the identity of the apprentice's master, guild or school).
Scribe — Scribes are granted the right to wear the symbol of a golden feather upon their robe (normally in the form of a broach or other kind of jewelry). This symbol grants to its bearer the right to use their guild's library and to purchase those materials necessary to create spell scrolls.
Astrologer — During this final apprenticeship level, magic users are trained in the sciences — particularly in how the movement of the stars affect magical energies. They are granted the right to wear the symbol of a star upon their robe.
Thaumaturge — At this point, all magic users must make a choice. Either they make formal ties with the Church (either individually or through a guild) or they become renegade. Those who choose the former are granted the right to wear a magic user's hat (a tall pointed hat with either a wide brim or no brim at all depending upon the region or guild). Those who choose the latter normally find themselves hunted down and imprisoned or killed.
Magician — Magicians are granted the right to wear the symbol of the star on their hat. This grants them the right to request access to the library of any magic user's guild.
Sorcerer — Sorcerers are granted the right to wear the symbol of the crescent moon upon their robes and hat. They can expect hospitality from any guild.
Magus — Magus are granted the right to openly carry a staff. It grants the bearer the right to hear cases before civil and ecclesial courts.
Wizard — Wizards are granted the right to carry ornate staffs. They cannot be denied access to any library without scandal (and most probably a visit by one or more inquisitors).
Archmage — where arch means over. These magic users have the right to start their own guild or school and to take on apprentices.

Obviously, these level titles indicate a very robust guild structure that (based on some of the comments from my last post) will rub some players the wrong way. Understandably, this guild structure is not for everybody nor for every table. This is one of the reasons I think level titles should be tailored to each campaign world (taking into consideration the temperament and desire for each gaming group).

This particular list is based upon the implied culture found in Holmes. Arcane magic is something extremely dangerous that needs to be heavily monitored. This is why there is so much cross-pollination and self-regulation implied in the rights granted to various levels. Although magic users working outside this structure run the real risk of being constantly hounded by authorities, it must be understood that players always have that option. While they might be able to find more freedom when it comes to the kinds of research they want to do, their resources will be severely limited — primarily to that which they find while adventuring.

Personally, I like these robust structures because they encourage player choice and creativity because it helps make their choices matter.

Holmes & Cook: Level Titles

2011-09-29T09:40:00.005-05:00

Love them or hate them, level titles are definitely part of both Holmes and Cook. Therefore, for the purposes of my thought experiment, I need to deal with them. Frankly, this is not something I mind because, personally, I am very fond of the idea of level titles.

There is something inspiring about reading old session reports where a dwarven character is not referred to as Noto the 5th-level dwarf, but rather as Noto the Dwarven Swashbuckler. It seems to me, therefore, that level names had more meaning in the early years of the hobby. Take, for example, the 2nd Level Wandering Monster Table in Holmes. He does not use class names (fighting-man, cleric, magic-user, thief) but, rather, level titles: Swordsmen, Conjurers, Priests, and Robbers. At some point in our hobby, saying Conjurer translated to 3rd level magic user. Personally, I think that is really cool.

Nevertheless, there is a big however in my thinking — for those of you who think level titles are stupid, I agree with you. They read more like a thesaurus entry rather than a progression of rank. While Swashbuckler and Myrmidon sound cool, they have no real meaning — how are they different and what makes a Myrmidon better than a Swashbuckler? As is, level titles have no real sense of rank.

In medieval Europe, there were guilds that operated on the apprenticeship system. One would get apprenticed to a craftsman, who would train you while you worked for room and board for a period of around seven years. At that time, you would become a journeyman. This word comes from the French journée, meaning one day. This refers to the right to charge a fee for one days work. The journeyman had the right to work for any craftsman, live in their own home and be paid a wage. They could not hire anyone themselves, however. This was the privilege of the craftsman. Historically, each trade and each level within a trade had its own distinctive dress. For example, in Germany a journeyman carpenter wore a wide-brimmed black hat and black bell-bottomed pants and carried a curled hiking pole.

A similar arrangement is hinted at in the D&D class-system. The first three levels are akin to an apprenticeship, for example. It follows that the next three are akin to the journeyman and the next three (up to the name level) are similar to being a craftsman. Even in a sandbox-type of game, lower-level characters can benefit greatly by having some kind of patron. By the time they reach 4th level, they have attained enough treasure and skills to go off exploring unknown lands. Higher levels, in turn, represent the clearing out of those discovered lands, the building of a stronghold and attracting what amount to a bunch of apprentices.

Name levels, therefore, ought to reflect in some way this basic structure. This can be done by various implications in the names themselves. In doing a little extra work — coming up with the names, their meaning and the subsequent behavior/costume/right that comes with the name — can add a lot of depth to a campaign world.

Take the title Swordsman, for example. If one is not allowed to purchase or carry a sword until one becomes a 4th level fighter, seeing someone carrying a sword tells you a lot about that character and about the world they live in. This, therefore, is the key to making name levels truly sing — make them specific to a campaign world.

Here, then, is an example of what can be done with name levels in a world where being a cleric means being a Christian:

Crucifer — meaning cross-bearer. Wearing a Crucifer's cross indicates the beginning of the path of being a cleric.
Acolyte — meaning follower. In following the cleric's path, an acolyte learns how to cast divine magic.
Ostiarius — meaning gate-keeper. This is the level just prior to ordination (they stand at the gate).
Exorcist — this is the lowest order of clergy. They gain the right to wear vestments. It also speaks to the growing ability of the cleric to Turn undead.
Auditor — meaning hearer. The cleric gains the authority to hear cases in the ecclesiastical court. They may wear an auditor's cowl.
Subdeacon — This is highest of the minor orders of clergy. The subdeacon may wear an Orarion — a thin strip of decorative cloth that is wrapped around the shoulders and waste in various patterns that indicate rank.
Deacon — meaning servant. Liturgically, this major order of clergy is responsible for the preparation and distribution of the gifts, reading the Gospel and leading the people in praying the litanies. For the purposes of D&D, it is the only major order (the others being priests and bishops) that could potentially have the freedom to be an adventurer.
Vicar — meaning representative or ambassador. This is a deacon who has received the seal of a bishop, granting the power to speak for and negotiate in the name of the bishop.
Archdeacon — where arch means over. The archdeacon has the right and responsibility to oversee and train lower level clerics.

Please note: this is an adventurer's path. Bishops and priests follow a different path. Therefore, every archbishop or archpriest is not necessarily a 9th level cleric. Depending upon how magic-heavy or readily available you want spells like Raise Dead to be, priests and bishops could all simply be the equivalent of 1st or 2nd level clerics.

Saintly Saturday: Synaxis of All Alaskan Saints

2011-09-24T09:06:00.001-05:00

Today is the Synaxis of All Saints of Alaska (where Synaxis means gathering). On this day in 1794, Russian missionaries first set foot in Alaska. Today specifically remembers the two protomartyrs of America: St. Peter the Aleut (the first American martyr) and St. Juvenal (the first martyr on American soil). Those of you who have read this blog in the past may remember that I wrote about St. Juvenal a couple of months ago.

At that time, Gamer ADD caused me to start contemplating an FRPG setting based upon 18th century Alaska, where the colonial powers of Ruthenia and Albion vied for control over Alakshaq and the various native peoples. Here is another tremendously cool map for inspiration:

My preferred ruleset for this Gamer ADD-fueled endeavor is B/X (effectively emulated via LL). There is one major problem with this, however. While armor was still in limited use on 18th century battlefields (cavalry units still donned breast plates, for example), it was largely absent. The reason for this absence was the effectiveness of the most common weapon on 18th century battlefields — the gun.

For better or worse, D&D has never been very good at emulating the impact of the gun on combat. Even as armor technology has endeavored to literally stop bullets, soldiers on contemporary battlefields choose to go sans armor because the advantages in mobility and maneuverability outweigh the advantages of wearing armor.

As written, in D&D there are two basic mechanisms that can be used to try and emulate the effectiveness of guns: the "to hit" roll and the damage roll. In my opinion, neither works.

If guns have a bonus to hit, it incentivizes heavy armor — the opposite of what happened historically.
If guns get a bonus to damage it unrealistically inflates the damage done by guns. Question: which would you rather take a direct hit from, a flintlock gun or a sword? I am guessing that the vast majority of us would choose the gun over the sword because we would have a much better chance of surviving.

This means that if I want to use my preferred ruleset, I'd have to do some serious house rules. One possibility is to experiment with this idea, where armor = damage reduction. This way, guns could ignore certain amounts of that damage reduction. Thus, it can function as all other weapons do — the same "to hit" and same damage — while doing what guns historically did — render armor on the battlefield meaningless.

I'll end with a pair of questions:

What is your favorite attempt at introducing guns to D&D?
What is your favorite ruleset (preferably FRPG) for emulating guns?

Holmes & Cook: Experience

2011-09-22T06:00:00.004-05:00

If I were doing a Holmes and Cook amalgam according to the advice given in Cook, figuring experience would be straight forward and simple — follow Cook. I am not doing that, however. In order to give Holmes precedence over Cook (while heavily relying on Cook for higher levels) some math needs to be done.

Holmes states:

all halflings and dwarves are members of the fighter class, unless they opt to be thieves.

and:

Elves progress in level as both fighting men and magic-users, but since each game nets them experience in both categories equally, they progress more slowly than other characters.

The only one of these that Cook follows is halfling fighters. Cook's dwarves require 10% more experience per level than normal fighters; Cook's elves progress as their own class that requires 500 less experience at 2nd level than if they were combining fighter and magic user requirements; and Cook (of course) has no rules for halfling or dwarven thieves.

I have to admit that I agree with Cook when it comes to dwarves. In a game where 14th level is the highest level covered, being limited to 12th level isn't much of a disadvantage compared with all of the extra abilities that a dwarf has. Therefore, there is little incentive not to be a dwarven fighter or a dwarven thief. An extra 10% experience per level makes some sense.

Halflings, on the other hand, are only limited to 8th level and only get d6 hp per level as fighters. Therefore advancing them as normal fighters makes sense. However, they would have significant advantages over human thieves without the reduction in hit dice. Therefore I would apply Cook's 10% experience increase for halfling thieves.

When it comes to Elves, I understand Cook's reasoning (4500 xp to get to 2nd does seem a bit steep), but I agree with Holmes — they should need an experience requirement of both a fighter and a magic-user. Doing some math, I think I can do this without requiring such an onerous amount.

Cook does not follow any kind of consistent pattern when it comes to assigning experience; however, there is a suggestion of one. Roughly speaking, each class doubles their experience requirement from 2nd to 3rd level and every level beyond until they reach 8th level. At this point the total requirement at 8th represents the amount of experience needed for each subsequent level.

For example: Fighters need 2000 xp to reach 2nd level. This is doubled to 4000 xp for third etc. A fighter needs 120,000 xp to reach 8th level. For each subsequent level of experience, a fighter needs another 120,000 xp — 240,000 for 9th level, 360,000 for 10th, etc. This math isn't exact (64,000 xp at 7th level is not exactly doubled to get to 120,000 xp), but it is close enough.

The magic number at 8th level for clerics is 100,000; for fighters is 120,000 and magic-users is 150,000. The math breaks down a little bit for thieves, because they also have 120,000 like fighters, but their initial experience requirement at 2nd level skews everything. In fact, there is an anomaly in the Thief progression I do not like — more experience is required to get from 9th level to 10th level (140,000) than 10th level to 11th level (120,000).

In order to fix this anomaly, to help make elf progression a little less onerous and to make the math more clean, I am going to start with those magic numbers at 8th level and work backwards. If one divides by two at every level one arrives at these experience requirements for the three core classes at 2nd level:

Cleric = 1563
Fighter = 1875
Magic-user = 2350

Thus, elves would need 4225 xp for 2nd — reasonably close to Cook's 4000 while still adhering to Holmes' description as progressing "in level as both fighting men and magic-users."

In Cook, the thief 2nd level requirement (1200 xp) is roughly half of the magic-user requirement (2500 xp). If this pattern is adhered to more exactly, Thieves would require 1175 xp. Therefore, they would need 150,000 at 9th level at which point they would need 120,000 xp for every subsequent level. This gets rid of that anomaly in Cook where 9th to 10th level requires more experience than 10th to 11th.

At this point, it is simple to add an extra 10% per level for Dwarven fighters and thieves as well as Halfling thieves.

More Evidence that D&D is Post-Apocalyptic

2011-09-21T10:27:00.000-05:00

It has been hypothesized that D&D is by nature a post-apocalyptic game. The basic premise — adventurers exploring ruins for treasure — screams lost civilization. What is not as clear is that the basic assumed setting — a fantasy emulation of medieval Europe — is also post-apocalyptic.

Although I haven't posted much recently about either, I am still quietly working on both my version of the Chateau des Fausesflammes and Holmes & Cook. It largely amounts to research about something that I am not as fluent in as I would like to be — southern France circa A.D. 1200. What is striking is how important the Roman Empire is to medieval Europe — it is THE lost civilization. Charlemagne was called the Holy Roman Emperor, for example.

I found a profoundly beautiful example of this loss while trying to find musical inspiration for the Chateau. While searching around for examples of early medieval music, I ran across this beautiful example of Ambrosian Chant from the 7th century:

When I played this for my wife (who has a doctorate in music) without revealing what it really was, she rattled off such regions of origin as Greece, Albania, Georgia and the Middle East. This is because it bears a striking resemblance to the music from those regions. Take for example this 7th century hymn from Constantinople (still sung today in the Orthodox Church):

This is a poignant reminder that despite the distances, the different languages and the different local customs we used to have one Church.

Let me finish with one other interesting way medieval Europe tried to hold on to the past. Originally, clergy wore the same clothes as everybody else; however, as fashion changed in the laity, the clergy continued to wear the style of clothing worn by generations before them. Thus, the robes worn by priests in the middle ages (and in some places even today) were normal, everyday clothes in the fashion of 4th century Rome.

Saintly Saturday on a Monday: Holy Cross

2011-09-19T10:23:00.000-05:00

The first cold brought home from school by the kids is always tough (being sick while also being a primary caregiver is never easy), but this year it kicked my butt. I was in bed most of the weekend with a splitting sinus headache, barely able to see straight, let alone write anything coherent. Therefore, this week I'm having Saintly Saturday on a Monday.

In the Orthodox Church, September 14 is major feast called the Elevation of the Holy Cross. This celebration lasts a whole week. This past Saturday and Sunday are officially called the Saturday and Sunday after the Holy Cross.

About the year A.D. 325, St. Helen (mother of the first Christian Emperor St. Constantine) went to the holy land and did a bunch of groundwork to figure out where various events recorded in the Gospel actually happened. She discovered that the Emperor Hadrian had erected a pagan temple over Golgotha. She had the temple razed and beneath discovered three crosses. She was convinced that one must be the True Cross, but was at a loss as to which one it might be.

At the urging of St. Macarius, the bishop of Jerusalem, a woman who was deathly ill was brought to touch the three crosses. As soon as she came near the True Cross she was completely healed. Therefore, Marcarius lifted up the True Cross in the church for all to see as they all cried out "Lord have mercy!" This event is commemorated every year at this time.

One of the things I never tire of emphasizing is the irony of the Cross. It has gone from being seen as an instrument of one of the most heinous, tortuous, humiliating and awful ways to die to having this said about it:

Let us venerate the holy resurrection of Christ. For behold, through the cross joy has come to all the world. Blessing the Lord always, let us praise His resurrection. For enduring the cross for us, He destroyed death by death.

This is one of the reasons I have never given much credence to conventional wisdom, because it (as St. Paul implies) sees the Cross as foolishness. It is also one of the reasons that I get such a kick out of the OSR. It tends to turn gaming conventional wisdom on its ear.

For example, newer is not always better — otherwise why would so many of us get such a kick out of playing with rules from circa 1974-1981 (whether in their original form or an emulation) and largely turn our back upon the latest and supposedly greatest version of our favorite FRPG?

The OSR is chuck full of things like this. JB over at B/X Blackrazor recently reminded us that the simple d6-per-side initiative is not only easier to run, but it speeds up combat and can make the game more fun to play. For myself, I am a firm believer that the "limitations" of rolling on random tables or of rolling character stats in order are actually liberating because they allow us to think outside the box and therefore be more creative than living with no limitations at all.

This, of course, is not to say that the OSR is never wrong, that older is always better, that you can never have any fun playing with individual initiative or that it is impossible to be creative with a point-buy character creation system. All I am saying is that (like me this weekend) conventional wisdom needs a good kick in the butt every now then and the OSR is very good at doing that.

An Example of a Story Emerging from Play Part 4

2011-09-16T10:03:00.001-05:00

As I mentioned in my last session report, I have been meditating upon the McGuffin that the party managed to get off of the Death Cult's altar — how is it going to help the Winter King? When pressed as to what it looked like, the first thing that came to mind was the Hand of Vecna. Therefore, it looks like a hand carved from ebony or some other black material. Since the McGuffin is a hand, I began to wonder what would happen if the Winter King amputated his own hand and replaced with the McGuffin?

My answer is largely based upon Christian anthropology (something that, unfortunately, I find many are shockingly ignorant of). Therefore, some preamble is necessary. Humanity is created in the image and likeness of God (Gen 1:26). Subsequently, it has been revealed that God is a Trinitarian being (Father, Son and Holy Spirit). The technical theological formula to describe the Trinity is three hypostasis (roughly translated as persons) in one ousia (which can be translated as nature or essence). Therefore, we — humanity — are a plethora of hypostasis in one ousia.

The implication of this reality is that what happens to an individual hypostasis (person), affects humanity as a whole through our shared ousia (nature/essense). This is why Christ's salvific work on earth is so effective — when He took on our nature by uniting his person to our humanity, His crucifixion and resurrection affects all of us. Our very nature and relationship with God was radically altered.

Since the Winter King knew of and had in his possession this Black Hand McGuffin centuries ago (as a member/leader of the Death Cult), there has to be a reason he did not take advantage of its magical properties when he could have all those years ago. The answer is based on the idea of ousia and is also the reason that the Winter King is willing to use the Black Hand McGuffin now. If and when he replaces his own hand with the Black Hand, his very nature will be irrevocably altered — he will cease being an elf.

Herein, though, is the way he intends so save the rest of the elves. By radically altering his ousia, his particular hypostasis will cease to affect the ousia of the rest of elven-kind.

I must admit that I know virtually nothing about the Eberron setting (I had left the hobby by the time it became the latest and greatest D&D setting); however, I cannot escape the art that accompanied it. One concept represented in these images that I find extremely intriguing is that of the Warforged — a magical elemental/construct as a character race.

I am considering the possibility of transforming the Winter King into something akin to this basic concept. There are several intriguing possibilities and consequences of this choice:

While the source of the contagion may be neutralized, there are still members of the Winter Court in various states of infection. The Winter King (with the help of the PCs?) might have to hunt them down and offer them a choice: death or lose their "elfness" and become a sentient construct like him.
Once the WInter King learns how to transform elves into sentient constructs, he may very well have a means by which to finally free the Winter Queen. She would likely insist that every elf who chose to have their souls bound to a bane weapon be given the choice to become a sentient construct (including and possibly starting with Hornet).
As a result of all of this, the Winter Court will be heavily depleted and without a king for the first time in eons if not in all of history. There are very likely to be widespread political implications (will the PCs care/get involved?)
There will be a new PC race-as-class available for players, the abilities of which I am still trying to hammer out. My rough draft includes a base AC7 (equivalent of +2 AC for you AAC junkies), the inability to be healed by divine magic, but the ability to burn equivalent arcane spell levels for healing (2 spell levels for every CLW equivalent?). This last as well as the arcane nature and knowledge of the original sentient constructs suggests that there will be at least a limited amount of arcane spell casting ability.
Some working names (all of which will likely be used): Banes, Living Swords and Melltithians.

All that remains to see is whether or nor the PCs manage to get the Black Hand back to the Winter King...

Lost Colonies Session 41

2011-09-16T00:00:00.000-05:00

After deciding that they were going to help the Winter King, our stalwart adventurers reported their findings to the Summer King. There were many misgivings about where the party planned to go. The Summer King explained that the valley and cave in question were places tainted by the great evils committed there and that no elf had willingly gone there for at least a millennia. The party insisted, and after they explained that not only could such an endeavor stop the undead incursions, but might be vital to saving all elves, the Summer King reluctantly agreed to help. The party was flown to the edge of the corrupted valley, where it had begun to snow.

At this point, I began to use a slightly modified version of Mr. Raggi's module Death Frost Doom. For those of you who don't want any spoilers, I suggest you stop reading. For the rest of you, what follows assumes a certain level of knowledge of the module, but hopefully not so much that it can't be enjoyed by those who as of yet are unfamiliar with it.

Personally, I had a lot of fun with the NPC Zeke Duncaster. Since I had changed the timeline of the adventure (the death cult was something that happened in the distant past) I was sorely tempted to get rid of this encounter; however, I am glad I kept him in for several reasons.

I recast him as a Fool for Christ-type of hermit — someone who seems crazy, but is really someone who sees past convention and false fronts and is interested in exposing truth. A such, I had a lot of fun role playing him. I especially enjoyed the fact that he assumed the party were all dead since their goal was to find the death cult's lair. This, in retrospect, was essential for setting the tone of the adventure. While it was darkly funny, it also set the player's teeth on edge.

This paid immediate dividends when the party got to the field of tomb stones. When they noted that the wooden grave markers carved by Zeke were now stone their paranoia was immediately palpable — they quickly started scouring their equipment lists for mirrors (none were to be found).

The biggest change to the module I made was necessitated by geography. There is only one (small) mountain range in the region and that is already occupied by another of Mr. Raggi's dungeons (as well as the main Dwarven colony). There is, however, a huge cliff wall that might be better described as a giant mesa. I placed the entrance to the dungeon in a cave carved into the side of this cliff wall. This choice is important, because it had major consequences for the outcome of the adventure.

Once inside, the party didn't pay much attention to the cabin/now cave. Though they did take the mirror from the main room. After they found the trap door down, nothing much else seemed to matter. However, once they descended into the pit, they went into all-out exploration mode. They used the mirror to look around corners, they checked for traps and outlined a routine for going room to room.

This meticulousness paid huge dividends. The party managed to avoid (with a little luck) all of the death traps as well as most of the curses. Once they found the tombs where the cultists were interned, they spent a lot of time and resources trying to bless as many as they could with holy water and then burning the corpses. Thus, I was willing to rule a significant number of the warriors neutralized.

Once the party found the altar guarded by the plant creature, they hypothesized that once they removed any one of the items from the altar (one of which was the McGuffin that justified this whole adventure) all of the bodies that they found would rise as an undead army. Thus, they carefully went through the entire dungeon locking doors, vandalizing locks, placing obstacles, burning and defacing anything that might prove useful to said army and otherwise doing anything they could think of to expedite their escape/last stand.

The irony is, that had the party gone with their first instinct — use the two potions of Gaseous Form they had to bypass the plant — all of their preparation would have been for nought; however, they feared what might be guarding the altar and decided that they wanted to be able to bring the entire party to the potential fight. Therefore, all that preparation proved necessary as they hacked their way through the plant.

Since their goal was the McGuffin on the altar, Dn. Goram ran in, grabbed all the items (to make sure they actually got the real McGuffin) and then the party hightailed it out of the dungeon. Their caution gave them plenty of time to escape unscathed. They then used a scroll of protection from undead to allow them enough time to set a package of various explosive materials the party has collected over the course of the campaign (they have a particular love of setting things on fire and making them go boom). This package was hung halfway down the entrance pit under the trap door. Once detonated, it effectively buried the coming undead army under several tons of rock (given that I had placed the dungeon in a cave rather than under a cottage as the module does).

We ended the session as the party was exiting the cave to the sight of ghouls breaking through the frozen earth. At this point, I do have a thematic criticism of Mr. Raggi's module. I understand from a practical point of view why all of the bodies inside the dungeon become zombies (it makes the module survivable even for low-level parties as long as they bring a cleric along); however, it doesn't make sense thematically. Why would the cult elite (warriors and priests) only come back as zombies while their victims come back as ghouls? It doesn't make much sense.

Thus, I am left with three conundrums:

How long will it take the undead army to dig its way out?
When they do get out, what variety of undead should they be?
How is the McGuffin going to help save the Winter King and therefore the elves?

An Example of a Story Emerging from Play Part 3

2011-09-15T10:26:00.001-05:00

When Hamlen died and the party wanted to investigate ways of getting him raised, the party demonstrated a considerable amount of anti-elf prejudice. This afforded me an opportunity to explore the ways of the elves (what they think about bane weapons, etc.) and thus scratch an itch for Ahkmed's player. One way I intended to do this was have the Winter Queen bound to a bane weapon and the Winter King obsessed with finding a way to get her out.

When this campaign began, it was an experiment. I had no idea if a bunch of 3.5 players would be at all interested in playing the game in an old school style using a retrocloned ruleset. I therefore was not particularly interested in spending a lot of time creating a sandbox. I therefore placed Lost Colonies on one of the maps from the Wilderlands by Judges Guild. It has served me very well — it is sketchy enough to allow me to make the world my own but filled with enough detail to fire the imagination.

One of the few places where elves are dominant on the map I chose to use had a little blurb about the locals being very interested in finding out why undead were coming out of the ocean. I figured that the Winter King's obsession had gotten so bad that his own experiments were the reason for the undead incursion against his own kind.

About this time I had also picked up Frog God Games' Hex Crawl Chronicles: Valley of the Hawks. I have to admit, I have been hesitant to pick up anything they've done because I was never much impressed by any Necromancer Games product other than some of their Judges Guild conversions. Since the Hex Crawl Chronicles seemed to ape those conversions, however, I decided to pick this up (well worth the money, by the way).

Therein, the elves of the valley were divided between Summer and Winter courts. What inspired me, however, was that all of the Winter Elves were wights. This got me thinking about the life-cycle of the elf.

If one assumes that an elf's lifespan is measured in centuries and that they have something akin to a vegan diet (where fruits, leaves, saps etc. can be harvested without killing the source) than death would be virtually unknown culturally and mythically. Since it would be such a rare occurrence (as opposed to its daily presence in human life), there wold be no real need to explain it or incorporate it into the cultural/mythic landscape.

Elves are mortal, however. This mortality manifests as an inability to extract nutrients from food commonly consumed by elves. Thus, as the elf grows older, their diet becomes more and more exotic (possibly giving rise to the elven adventurer). When the diet of an elf results in the death of another creature (as in meat), they become a member of the Winter Court. Thus, the Summer Court is almost entirely made up of younger elves and the Winter Court is almost entirely made up of older elves.

Eventually, the elven system can no longer gain sustenance from food. This would be the natural end of the life cycle; however, since elves do not intimately know or understand death (outside of battle) they tend to fear it. Thus, they have spent centuries figuring out ways to cheat it. For example, many in the Winter Court have willingly become wights — they feed on the very life essence of other beings.

More importantly, the Bane weapons were one of these ways to cheat death. Elves of a certain age willingly had their souls tied to these weapons in an attempt to bring peace to the races in a kind of magical detente. Unfortunately, separated from their bodies, the elves went into a kind of torpor. The only way to wake was to find someone willing to give up their own will and allow the elf to act in and through the wielder of the weapon (as Ahkmed has done). In addition, the dwarves abused the bane weapons and brought corruption and death to the races instead of peace.

The Winter King is the oldest living elf. He has cheated death over and over again in a myriad of ways — including some that are truly heinous. He has made and broken deals with demons. He has killed innocents by the thousands. He is unwilling to die until he frees the Winter Queen from her torpor.

As a result of my players' interpretation of events, his latest cheat has had the unintended consequence of infecting others in the Winter court. While he is somewhat content to live as a half-shadow, he fears that once the Winter Court succumbs, it will affect elven kind as a whole. Currently, he is racing against time to find a way to work around this affliction. He has yet to find a cure.

An Example of a Story Emerging from Play Part 2

2011-09-15T00:00:00.002-05:00

When I began my campaign, I had not strictly defined what any of the demi-human races were like (and had no real interest in doing so). Thus, when the first player to create a dwarf asked me what dwarves in my world were like, I told him to tell me. Because he balked at the idea, I started brainstorming ideas. The one he was most interested in was James' Dwimmermount dwarf. Though this was the genesis of dwarves in my campaign, Lost Colony dwarves differ from Dwimmermount dwarves in significant ways (they are neuters, for example) — not through my doing, but rather for things said and done by dwarf players in the campaign.

When my party found out that dwarf reproduction involved building a dwarf with the possibility of coming out with a gnome, they were intensely interested in getting a gnome for the group. They even planned to fund Ahkmed in the creation of said gnome — keep shelling out 10,000gp until a gnome came out. It was then decided that it was traditional for Dwarves only to have one son.

I reasoned that any son created after the first would have a very high chance of being a Knocker (a Chaotic Dwarf). I also reasoned that it had not always been that way. This tragic story was suggested by Mr. Raggi's module The Hammers of the God. It also suggested an origin for elfin maids bound to magical weapons.

One of the hammers of The Hammers of the God is a bane weapon — it is designed to be better against a specific kind of creature. There were also murals within the module that suggested that all of the various races of the earth had cooperated in making bane weapons in order to assure peace. This peace was destroyed by the dwarves (thus, giving a nice reason for there to be antipathy between the two races).

I figured that the dwarves (under the leadership of Mär-Rune from Raggi's module) started stealing all of the bane weapons in order to make war on all of the other races. The war that ensued so tainted the dwarven race, that they can no longer make more than one son without having that taint becoming manifest in their offspring. This war also sowed the seeds for the creation of the Sons of Cyn — but that is for another day.

Unfortunately, my players decided not to pursue the clues I had laid for them to find The Hammers — but the dungeon and all of this information has been placed into my campaign and awaits exploration.

An Example of a Story Emerging from Play Part I

2011-09-14T15:31:00.000-05:00

This series of posts has its genesis in selfishness, I must admit. I am approaching a major story point in my Lost Colonies campaign that has the potential of world-changing consequences. This story point, however, is not entirely my own — it is something that has emerged from play rather than something I had planned or even imagined. Therefore, I want to put down in writing my thoughts about it in order to help me hammer out some details and see whether or not I have something workable and comprehensible; however, I also think that it might be useful for others interested to see how (at least for me) small things that come up in play develop into story-lines that affect entire campaigns and campaign worlds.

As with many things that I do when I run a game, this whole thing started with a roll on a random table — specifically, the presence of a simple (boring) short sword +1. In order to give it more character, I told the party that it had the word "Hornet" engraved on the blade in Elvish (with Sting from The Hobbit strongly in mind).

Given that the goblins in The Hobbit did not much care for the Elvish blades used by the protagonists of Tolkien's tale, I figured they wouldn't much care for Hornet either. I reasoned that goblins were particularly hated by the sword itself, which would force its wielder to attack goblins within 30' or so unless a save vs. spells was made.

This came up a couple of times during play. When Ahkmed the Dwarf (the wielder of Hornet) tried to use any weapon but Hornet, I added another twist — the sword was getting jealous and would appear in Ahkmed's hand unless he made a save vs. spells.

Ahkmed's player was new to the world of RPGs, with mine being only his second ever campaign. The veteran players had a lot of fun at his expense, as this was his first experience with a "cursed" item. Interestingly, it was really only those veteran players who wanted to get rid of the sword — Ahkmed's player was having fun being Hornet's wielder.

This was all pretty much copacetic until, after "giving his will" to Hornet in order to find a goblin in hiding, Ahkmed killed a goblin the party had worked very hard to capture (and thus interrogate). At this point, the sword was seen as more of a hindrance than a help.

Given that the sword now had some kind of entity to which someone could give their will to (and given the history of special swords from older editions of the game), Hornet definitely would not want to be parted from Ahkmed. Therefore, I reasoned that she (because Hornet was now a she in my mind) would need to offer something to Ahkmed in order to keep her around.

What resulted was the idea of a female elf somehow bound to the sword had been awakened by Ahkmed when he gave his will to the sword. As a result, she was now able to offer him help by acting in and through him. Thus, Ahkmed could gain certain elf-like abilities as long as he remained tied to the sword. Ahkmed gleefully agreed and Hornet became a quiet NPC in the party.

At this point, however, I had no idea how or why there was an elfin maid bound to a magical sword or what that meant for other magical swords/weapons — something Ahkmed's player was definitely interested in finding out more about. In the meantime, he busied himself collecting as many elfin accouterments as possible.

Lost Colonies Session 40

2011-09-12T15:32:00.001-05:00

After procuring the aid of some elves and a boat, our stalwart adventurers quickly found a ruined underwater city. After a short reconnaissance, they discerned three distinct sections of the ruins. The southern section was the most dilapidated. The north, while in ruins, still looked formidable with a wall and various towers still standing. The central section was what caught the party's attention, because it was covered by an opaque dome.

Readying themselves with various magical means of breathing water, they all made a bee-line for the dome, which rang out in a low tone when the first of the party landed on its top. This attracted the attention of a group of fishmen swimming from the north armed with tridents and nets. As party members struggled to move and fight in an alien environment, it quickly became clear that their attackers were interested in capturing them, not killing them. Dn. Goram tried to communicate to the group that he wanted to willingly go with the fishmen, but neither the fishmen nor the rest of party could understand him.

As a result, the party was split between those who were captured and those who figured out how best to fight underwater. This latter group was approached by what they guessed were a different tribe of fishmen. These seemed friendly, so they willingly followed in hopes of gaining allies to rescue their companions.

What followed was two separate conversations where the leaders of two different factions attempted to recruit the players to their cause. Those who willingly went with the second group of fishmen, found themselves in audience with a water naga who insisted that the domed section of the city had been stolen from her. Ahkmed and Gilek were taken aback that their would-be ally turned out to be something they perceived as evil (despite the fact that she had a neutral alignment — was it the way I role-played her?). Therefore, they busied themselves with trying to milk as much information and material goods out of the naga as they could before they could get away and figure out how best to eradicate her.

Those who were captured were surprised to find that the dome was filled with breathable air and contained what might have been a bustling, well maintained city if it weren't for the lack of inhabitants. As they entered what looked to be an ancient pagan temple at the center of town, they found themselves in the presence of the Winter King.

After it was established that Dn. Goram was there at the behest of the Summer King, the Winter King warmed up to the party and was quite blunt about his presence in the undersea city. He explained that he was afflicted with some kind of curse (his immediate appearance as an elf was an illusion — he was actually some kind of shadow version of an elf) and he had driven out the naga in order to be able to conduct a series of experiments in an attempt to reverse his condition.

When pressed, he admitted that he had made an "unfortunate" ally with what he referred to as "deep ones" and that they were responsible for the kidnappings and that the undead incursions were an unintended consequence of his experiments. However, he insisted that as vile as the kidnapping might be and as regrettable the undead attacks were, it was all necessary because his own condition was going to inflict all of elven kind if he did not act. Unfortunately, he had yet to find his answer.

The party (despite the openly evil things that the Winter King was doing) asked if there was anything they could do to help. Dn. Goram later explained that all of elven-kind was in danger. Helping the Winter King find a cure helped the whole, therefore his present evil was outweighed by a greater good. He also detected a sense of regret in the WInter King, as well as desire for redemption (even if the elf thought his own soul was beyond saving).

The party was informed that there was a distant cave wherein the Winter King did some unspeakable things in his youth. Therein they would find an altar. Upon that alter would be something that might be able to help. Unfortunately, the Winter King himself did not think it worth risking so much time to fetch himself. He would continue in his constant experiments while the party travelled south and west.

Each half of the party was then escorted out from their respective audiences and ran into each other. Much confusion ensued, especially when Gilek decided to turn on his own escorts.

The rest of the session was spent on sorting out everyone's story and deciding whose side to actually take (Gilek and Ahkmed were again taken aback when they discovered that the naga had told the truth about being ousted from her city). But it was decided that the naga was an evil that needed to be eradicated immediately. Thus, the session ended with an attack upon the naga's lair-in-exile in which Gilek almost died and Ahkmed found himself briefly polymorphed into a rust monster prior to the naga's demise.

Remember

2011-09-11T06:00:00.004-05:00

O God of spirits and of all flesh, You have trampled upon death and have abolished the power of the devil, giving life to Your world. Give rest to the souls of Your departed servants in a place of light, in a place of green pastures, in a place of refreshment, where there is no pain, no sorrow, and no suffering. As a good and loving God, forgive every sin they have committed in thought, word or deed, for there is no one who lives and does not sin. You alone are without sin. Your righteousness is an everlasting righteousness, and Your word is truth.

Saintly Saturday: St. Nicholas

2011-09-10T06:00:00.018-05:00

I am going to deviate from my usual fair today, because tomorrow so many of us will be remembering the tenth anniversary of one of the most tragic events in U.S. history — certainly of my lifetime. Rather than remembering a saint, today I'd like to remember a building dedicated to a saint as well as the men and women who lost their lives in its vicinity.

While many of the talks we will hear and make tomorrow will be about the Twin Towers, there were three buildings destroyed that day in New York. Standing in the shadows of the Twin Towers was a little church called St. Nicholas.

Forgive me while I do a little comparison. Gary Gygax died on March 4, 2008. I only knew Gary through his writing and the game he created with Dave Arneson. So I, like many who have found joy in playing that game in one or more of its many iterations, went back and read those words in order to hold on to what we had lost. What resulted from that memorial is what I have called a golden age in our hobby. We have gone back, rediscovered the magic of 1974, 1979, 1981, etc., made it our own and created all kinds of wonderful. In other words, every time we sit down at a table to play, we honor Gary, Dave, Dr. Holmes and all of those who labored to give us this game we love so much.

In contrast, when New York gathers to remember the tenth anniversary of 9/11, the destruction wrought by hate and the lives that hate destroyed, the very men and women who risked their lives to save people from the attack, the fire and the rubble will not be welcome (they were "honored" on the eighth). In addition, ground zero has been declared a clergy-free zone — on sacred ground where a house of worship once stood. You will excuse me if I think this an abomination.

I ask that all of us take time tomorrow to honor the dead, honor those they left behind and honor those who risk their lives on a daily basis so that we may be free and safe to play the games we play. I also ask that we consider that maybe one of the reasons that a hole still scars the city New York ten years after two planes were deliberately flown into the Twin Towers is that we have not only turned away clergy, but God Himself.

Lost Colonies Session 39

2011-09-09T14:45:00.001-05:00

The last time I did one of these reports, a group of elves representing the Summer King had arrived in Headwaters seeking an audience with Dn. Goram. A story had reached the Summer Court of a hero who had single-handedly (for all intents and purposes) defeated an undead army. The locals had confirmed that Dn. Goram played a vital role in the defense of Headwaters against a large number of skeletons. As a result, these elves were eager to get the deacon's help with their own undead problem.

Dn. Goram interpreted this request as the test he was to take in order to get his brother raised from the dead, so he agreed to come. Ahkmed the Dwarf with his follower Kavella the Elf, Kyron the Illusionist, Dn. Swibish with his follower Ardek the Dwarf, and Gilek the Gnome all agreed to accompany them. In addition, the two giant eagles that had attached themselves to the party insisted on coming along so that they could visit with their old master and their family, since both lived in proximity to the Summer Court.

Thus, the party flew south aboard a flying galleon the elves had hidden from view west of Headwaters. Hidden in the clouds, the journey was rather uneventful and they were soon escorted into the illusory and mysterious Summer Court — disguised as a hill in the middle of a quaint town specializing in raising horses.

The Summer King informed the party that they had been plagued by incursions of undead coming from the sea. Elves were particularly vulnerable because they had no clerics to Turn them. These incursions coincided with the disappearance of the Winter King and his court as well as a rash of kidnapping all along the coast. Given his prowess in defeating the undead, the Summer King was hoping Dn. Goram would be able to help. The party agreed to investigate.

To begin, they set up a watch in the area where the undead had most frequently attacked the elves. The resultant battle was a very near thing for the party. A large group of undead consisting of skeletons, zombies, ghouls, ghasts and a wight emerged from the sea and proved far more challenging than the players expected. While the clerics were able to easily destroy the skeletons and zombies with their Turning ability, they had to burn through all of the lower order undead before they could affect the ghouls, etc. Thus, Dn. Goram, Dn. Swibish and Ahkmed were all paralyzed before any of the ghouls or ghasts had been Turned.

Two things then turned (no pun intended) the battle to the players' favor. First, Kavella's elvish immunity to the ghoul's paralysis allowed her to dive into the fray with a healing potion to free Dn. Goram from his paralysis. Secondly, Gilek earned the moniker "Lucky" because he single-handedly held off the wight without ever being hit.

After nearly seeing the decimation of the whole party, everyone determined that their best course of action was to find the source of these attacks rather than standing on the beach waiting for another attack (and another opportunity to be overwhelmed). They quickly learned that the elves were aware of several city ruins that had been buried beneath the sea in a previous era. Procuring several ways to breath underwater, the party set off to find the nearest of these ruins.

Note to those who think Turning is too powerful: this session is an object lesson in how to get around it. When everyone who plays in my group shows up at the table, the party has three clerics. This makes most encounters with undead a walk in the park — unless I pair more powerful undead types with a large group of skeleton and zombie fodder. Since low HD undead are affected by Turning before higher HD undead, all those ineffectual skeletons and zombies render ghouls, etc. far more dangerous than they normally would be against a group of even mid-to-high-level clerics.

Lost Colonies Returns

2011-09-07T14:25:00.000-05:00

If you've read this blog in the past, you may have noticed that I have not posted any session reports on my Lost Colonies campaign for a couple of months. The reason for this is that this summer was an absolute disaster for the purposes of scheduling game time. Several of the folks I play with were out of town, on vacation, etc. and gaming fell by the way side. On the few nights we did get together, we often suffered very bad cases of Gamer ADD and opted for Villains & Vigilantes. [An interesting by-product of this experience: as much a I love V&V, I am at a point in my life where I am no longer much interested in using what time I have for RPGs on anything other than FRPGs, specifically D&D and those retroclones that emulate it.]

Now that summer is coming to close and every one is back in town, we decided to get back to playing the Lost Colonies campaign. Before I post any actual session reports, however, I thought I'd write a post about some of the larger issues that I found interesting about re-starting a campaign and what might be called a cultural conundrum.

The first big problem we all had was just remembering where everybody was, why everybody was doing what they were doing and what everyone was going to do next. We tackled the situation by taking turns telling our own versions of what was going on and asking questions of each other. I didn't try to do this on purpose (though I might the next time I run into a similar situation), it happened organically. Since there were details others remembered that I forgot, I was encouraged to allow as much collaborative remembering as seemed necessary. This went on for close to thirty to forty minutes. I consider it time well spent, in this case.

By the time play began, everyone was getting back into character and things progressed, if not smoothly, then forward far enough to get back into some kind of rhythm. One thing that helped was that we did two sessions in quick succession — less than a week apart. I accidentally created a sense of urgency by ending the first session on a cliffhanger — thus, everybody was eager to get back to it.

When I first started running this campaign, I did so as an experiment — what would happen if you introduced earlier versions of D&D to a bunch of 3.5 players? For the most part, they have all settled on the idea that B/X and its retroclone LL are as much as one needs in order to have a lot of fun sans all the prep time necessary with 3.5 (even if there are aspects of 3.5 that some miss).

I mention this because in running Lost Colonies, there have only been a couple of times that I was aware of a clash of culture between 3.5 play and old-school play. These sessions were one of them. As the two evenings progressed, I came to realize that there was a definite new-school vibe with what I was doing as a Referee.

Super-hero RPGs do not lend themselves to a sand-box style of play. By necessity, they are more plot driven. Even so, they can be run in a mystery/information gathering kind of way. When I ran V&V, I decided to have an overall campaign secret that would be revealed piecemeal over several sessions. Different pieces of the puzzle were available from different NPCs and their lairs. As the players encountered various villains, the information gathered could lead players in a couple of different directions to find another piece of the puzzle. I did this in an attempt to allow players to drive the plot more than my choices as a Referee.

I structured the current adventure for Lost Colonies in a similar manner. I had several different encounter areas that could yield a plethora of information about what was really going on. Depending upon where the players chose to go, how they reacted to these NPCs and how much they trusted the information there were all kinds of different possibilities. At least that was the theory.

In the middle of what I considered to be an interesting, tough but winnable combat, half the party went into what I might describe as a "new school-" or "3.5" mentality. A couple of players hypothesized that they were supposed to be captured — the assumption that this is the action that would further the intended plot. As a result, half of the party gave up trying to win the fight and allowed themselves to be captured. Only two players (the newest D&D player and the one player who came into the hobby with with 2ed) fought to the end. They proved my own assumption about the encounter and were rewarded with freedom.

The adventure had two factions in conflict with each other. One side was definitely evil. The other was alien, but neutral. The evil faction was interested in using the PCs to further their own agenda. The neutral faction was interested in allying with the PCs to eradicate the evil faction.

As each part of the party encountered one of the factions something really surprising happened (and one that I might blame on the "new school" mentality). When everyone managed to get together again, everyone decided that the evil faction was, if not exactly good, trying to accomplish a greater good and the neutral faction was evil and therefore was eliminated.

While wildly entertaining from my perspective, it does leave me in a bit of a conundrum. How much of the "new school" mentality lead to the players accepting the evil faction at their word? How much of that is my own fault? Further, the players have started to craft their own narrative about what they are trying to accomplish by helping the evil faction that radically differs from my own original plans. I happen to like their version quite a bit…and am quite happy to alter my plans to adhere to their expectations with a few of my own twists. The question is: should I?

Saintly Saturday: St. Anthimos

2011-09-03T09:27:00.000-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Anthimos, Bishop of Nicomedea. During the reign of the Emperor Maximian at the beginning of the 4th century, thousands of Christians were rounded up in Nicomedia to be put to trial and martyred. St. Anthimos managed to evade imperial troops and went into hiding along with what remained of his flock.

When the emperor learned that the bishop was still at large, he called for a manhunt. When soldiers found the saint, they did not recognize their quarry when the bishop promised to show them where Anthimos was. The saint brought them into his home, fed them and treated them as guests. After the meal, he revealed himself. Amazed by the bishop's kindness, they wished to help hide the saint; however, in order to protect the soldiers, Anthimos willingly went with them. On the way, he converted and baptized the soldiers who arrested him. He was tortured and beheaded in AD 303 or 304.

***

The Skull of St. Florian

This artifact appears to be a normal human skull, save for the ornate cross carved into its forehead. It will be revealed as magical should a Detect Magic be cast upon it. Once per week, the skull may be asked to provide sustenance. The skull will then cast Create Food and Water as a ninth level cleric; however, the real power of the skull is only revealed when a Lawful creature uses the skull's bounty to feed and care for Chaotic creatures. Such creatures will be subject to the same effects as a Helm of Opposite Alignment.

Conan and Alignment

2011-08-30T13:44:00.000-05:00

While I was bedridden last week, I spent quite a bit of time with REH and his creation Conan. Since the latest Hollywood version has been deemed a disaster by just about everybody, I had decided to get my Conan fix the old fashioned way. [BTW I myself do not have an opinion on the movie other than to say that I trust Hollywood about as far as I can throw California and I choose to spend my entertainment dollars on Netflix and the like, because it is has the wonderful side effect of changing customer expectation and therefore threatening the status-quo among our entertainment elite.]

One of the things that I found most fascinating is the way REH played with the theme of civilization vs. barbarism. My take on REH is that he sees both as necessary and as correctives for the abuses of the other. As they come into contact with each other, each must necessarily adapt or perish. This view flies in the face of the Alignment systems of D&D, which are more or less static. Personally, I believe REH is much closer to historical reality than D&D's alignment system.

Let me explain by first drawing attention to this simple diagram:

LG = Lawful Good
LE = Lawful Evil
CG = Chaotic Good
CE = Chaotic Evil

Every society goes through this cycle. If we begin with a benign government (the form does not matter) we have a LG society. Eventually, the need to maintain government control over society supersedes the welfare of the citizenry or the ruling elite simply lose touch with those over which they rule. Thus, society drifts toward LE. This transition can happen gradually over time or happen overnight, depending on the situation.

In response to an oppressive (LE) government, rebellions and revolutionaries rise up. These movements, at least in their beginnings, are CG. At their best they dip into the necessary evil of war (thus briefly becoming CE) and then replace the existing government with what they hope is a LG regime. At their worst, they drag society into anarchy (CE) which demands that someone rise up to bring order. This LG impulse will either result in benevolent stability (gradually devolving into LE) or it will dive quickly into another LE situation where order is more important than individual welfare.

For example: The Weimar Republic can be classified as a LE society (it played fast and loose with morality). Both the fascist and communist movements began as a positive alternative to the failures of the Weimar Republic (portrayed as the failure of capitalism). Both movements quickly dived into CE as they purposely fostered chaos and anarchy in the streets. The fascists used this opportunity to offer the Germans order and stability. The German people, in hopes of a LG alternative to the chaos of the Weimar Republic ushered in the Nazi era of Germany, which quickly became LE.

This cycle reflects the old adage that today's revolutionaries are tomorrow's establishment. Even Conan himself shifted from being the barbarian outsider to being the King of Aquilonia. Thus, people, movements and societies can shift from one alignment to the next over the course of a lifetime. It is not beyond the realm of possibility for these shifts to happen more than once.

This reality also suggests why the D&D alignment system rubs so many of us the wrong way. It isn't that it flies in the face of historical reality, it is the fact that it tries to do two things at once:

represent an attitude/belief/ethical system
represent certain game mechanics

As I meditate on this, I am coming to believe that these two things are mutually exclusive.

Attitudes and beliefs are not static. Even in context of my own Christian faith, there is an expectation of growth — a lifetime is a journey whose goal is becoming more and more like Christ. This growth necessitates change. On the other hand, mechanics such as spell effects and alignment languages are static. Protection spells are designed to always help my guys against the other guys. One can't exactly forget an entire language just because one's attitudes or beliefs have changed.

I am inclined to answer this conundrum by going back to the wargaming roots of the game. Alignment was originally designed to mark which troops were available to which side. Lawful armies could take Lawful troops. Chaotic armies could take Chaotic troops. Both armies could use Neutral troops. In other words, it wasn't about behavior, ethical systems, philosophy, etc. It was simply about which side a troop type was willing to fight for.

I am reminded of Eddie Valentine, the mobster from the movie Rocketeer. Upon finding out that his employer was a Nazi spy, he and his cohorts immediately switched sides because when push came to shove, they were willing to fight for America but not Nazi Germany. In other words, the fact that they were criminals who we would label as evil was irrelevant in the question of his alignment with the U.S. over Germany.

Thus, a proper alignment system should be divorced from questions of good vs. evil behavior. Rather, it should have to do with sides. What those sides are depend upon the campaign world. They could have magical and/or supernatural elements — aligning oneself to the Church or to the College of Magic, for example. Most properly, alignment should bring with it mechanical advantages that are paid for through obligation — if the College of Magic is being persecuted by the authorities, characters aligned with the College would be obliged to come to its defense. Neutrality would then have a real meaning (as opposed to the meaningless nihilism that it usually is in most versions of D&D). By forgoing all of the mechanical advantages, characters become free agents with no obligations.

I am very tempted to explore this idea further, because like Prestige Classes, they are a means by which players can engage in the campaign world through play.

From Fevered Dreams

2011-08-28T08:00:00.004-05:00

The word centaur comes from Greek Κένταυροι, which has an obscure origin. It has been suggested that it is a compound word formed from ken and tauros which would roughly translate as piercing bull-stickers, piercing bull or bull-slayer. Knowing enough history and Greek to be dangerous, I would like to offer another (more useful, though less authoritative) alternative.

One of the possible origins of the centaur is the first encounters of non-riding Minoans with horse mounted nomadic tribes. Given the dichotomy of civilized vs. barbarian culture, the word may very well have originally been a negative epithet.

One possible (and most likely a grammatically incorrect) translation of ken is absence. Built into this is a connotation that morality and civilized behavior is what is absent. Therefore ken can also be translated as depraved. Therefore, centaur might mean depraved bull — monstrous, barbarian beast men.

Given this understanding, centaurs cease being the idyllic, peaceful creatures that we have come to know them as. This makes sense in context of the story of their conflict with the Lapiths when centaurs tried to kidnap all of the Lapith women on the wedding day of the Lapith King, Pirithous.

All of this is a long-winded explanation of why I chose to name the halfling dog centaurs that invaded my fevered dreams this past week Censtyl and why I chose to make them Chaotic. The name can be understood to mean depraved dog.

Censtyl

Like a war club, a sword, or a sharp arrow is one who bears false witness against a neighbor. — Proverbs 25:17-18

Number Appearing: 2d10
% in Lair: 10%
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 150' (50')
Armor Class: 5
Hit Dice: 3+1
Attacks: 2d4+1/2d4+1/weapon or 1d8 (missile weapon)
Special: Attacks as a 6HD creature with missile weapons
Save: F4
Morale: 9
Hoard Class: XXII
XP: 100
Censtyls have the body and legs of dogs, but the upper body of halflings. While they are gregarious among themselves and those they trust, they live far from other humanoids in densely wooded areas which they fiercely defend from outsiders. They are able to attack with their front claws, as well as attacking with a weapon. Centstyls are expert marksmen, thus they attack as 6HD creatures when using any missile weapon and do 1d8 damage instead of the normal 1d6.

Saintly Saturday: St. Phanourios

2011-08-27T06:00:00.003-05:00

Today is the feast day of St. Phanourios. He is a popular saint amongst the Greeks and his popularity stems from his name. Phonetically, the name is very similar to phanerono which means to reveal. Indeed, what we know of St. Phanourios was revealed in an icon discovered in the ruins of a Cretian Church in the 15th or 16th century. It depicts various events of his life and the tortures he endured as a martyr. He is depicted holding a tapered candle, because these were one of the tools used to torture the saint. Ultimately, it appears, he was burned to death.

Greeks, because of the similarity of Phanourios to the word phanerono, will often seek the saint's help when they have lost something. Such prayers more often than not reveal the lost object's location.

***

Candles of St. Dezvulaire

These objects appear to be normal beeswax candles; however, they give off an aura when Detect Magic is cast upon them. When the user lights the candle and makes an intercessory player to St. Dezvulaire to locate a certain object, the candle acts as Locate Object spell. The flame will "lean" in the direction of the desired object. Each candle will burn for up to 2d6 turns. Multiple uses are possible, as long as there is still candle to burn.

My Ideal Published Megadungeon

2011-08-26T08:29:00.002-05:00

Over at Grognardia, James asks a question that I have spent quite some time thinking about:

So, today's question is this: assuming you're interested in megadungeons -- if you're not, please don't use the comments section to express your disinterest -- what would be your preferred format? Feel free and assume that there are no limits and go with what you would consider to be the ideal format for presenting a true old school megadungeon.

I have never been a huge fan of modules. Sure, I have used them and will continue to integrate them into my campaigns, but they are not even close to being a regular feature in any campaign I've ever run. The reason for this is utility.

The vast majority of modules have a huge amount of information about every single aspect of the dungeon — especially rooms. While I enjoy reading this stuff, all that information gets in the way of running the module. Instead of being able to quickly ascertain information about an individual room, I have to wade through a bunch of information I don't really need when interacting with players. The game slows down and I inevitably miss a key bit of information that gums up the works and makes my evening less-than-fun.

Therefore, my ideal megadungeon module would be something that I could easily utilize in play. There are four ways that I would do this:

Make the dungeon background interesting but easily adaptable. In a typical megadungeon of my own design, for example, I imagine that it has gone through three phases: the original builders; those that overthrew the builders; current occupiers. In my ideal megadungeon publication, the module would use this basic outline and then give an example of how to utilize it. Thus, I am invited to use it as written, completely overhaul it, or adapt it for my campaign — whichever is most useful for me and my current need.
Give visual cues on the map as to who and when certain parts of the dungeon were built and the factions that currently occupy them. Thus, at a glance I have enough information to describe a room and how it differs from the hallway the players just came from. This can be done simply by shading certain areas and keying the shading as Original; Conquerers; Current; (insert faction name here).
Have several different short entries for each room. Each entry should be a phrase that describes the utility of the room for each era. If released as a .pdf, using color would be ideal. For example: red = Original; blue = Conquerers; black = Current. For a printable version and/or a BW printed version, plain, underlined and boxed texts could be used. This way I have a wealth of information to give players with built-in layers. If the room was originally a vestry, used as a weapons room by the conquerers and a storage room by the current occupiers I have information for those that give the room a cursory glance (storage room); those that look closely at the contents (what is stored there); and for those that look beyond (weapons racks and religious symbols on the wall). All this at a glance.
Finally, as was done in B1, provide a blank space for customized monsters as well as a normal stat line for the monsters that the author envisioned for his own version of the dungeon. I realize that this adds space and therefore cost to a print run; however, given the space saved by having extremely short room descriptions I think it worth it.

Two final thoughts: for those that want crunch and background material, each level can have a summary of history and current factions at the beginning of each level (much in the same way that Michael Curtis did with Stonehell). Finally, have the maps in a separate file/booklet. This way, at the table I can have both the map AND the description right in front of me without having to flip back and forth between pages.

I've Been Sick...

2011-08-25T08:12:00.002-05:00

...and I've been so dizzy that I have not been able to look at computer screen, let alone post anything. I am on the mend, and will hopefully be up and running soon.

In the meantime, in one of my fevered dreams, one of the major characters that took part was a halfling version of a centaur — half dog/half halfling. Besides being part of Greek Mythology (dog and deer centaurs co-exist with their more popular horse centaur brethren) has anyone seen something similar statted for D&D?

Finally, before I became too sick to see straight, I spent some time with my old AD&D books. As anyone who regularly reads my blog can tell you, I am far more interested in the decidedly non-"advanced" older versions of the game. If I am honest, even when I did play AD&D it was really Basic with Advanced bits added on. One of the reasons I so love Labyrinth Lord is that is a fantastic way to emulate this reality (using AEC). When I am ill; however, I generally pine for things nostalgic (like bad B-movies) and I decided to crack open my old books.

Therein I found this:

Only humans will normally have clericism as their sole class: thus they are the only clerics with unlimited advancement in level.

Herein is an interesting implication for all of those who don't like race-as-class. The reason that demi-humans have level limits is they are always multi-class. Therefore, it is theoretically possible for a demi-human to reach levels beyond their limit if they are willing to limit themselves to a single class. Given this reality; however, there would need to be some kind of limitation for demi-humans or advantage for humans otherwise why play a human? Two options come to mind:

Demi-humans only have one class that they can reach unlimited levels in.
Allow humans to multi-class (with their own higher level limits?)

I'd be tempted to do both, actually...

Saintly Saturday: St. Samuel the Prophet

2011-08-20T00:00:00.001-05:00

Today is the feast day of Samuel the Prophet, of I & II Samuel (or as we Orthodox Christians like to call I & II Kings). Rather than doing my usual schtick of writing a summary of the life of the saint and riffing off of that (because most can simply read about him in the Bible), today I would like to highlight something that happens in the second chapter of I Samuel.

Of late, I have been concentrating on prayers and hymns, specifically those found in the Carmina Gadelica. I should, however, point out that Scripture is oozing with hymns and prayers. In fact, the entire book of Psalms is meant to be sung.

There are nine specific prayers from Scripture that the Orthodox Church uses as the frame work for an entire set of hymns called the Canon. One of these prayers is that of Hannah, Samuel's mother in that second chapter of I Samuel. Here is the complete list:

The (First) Song of Moses (Exodus 15:1-19)
The (Second) Song of Moses (Deuteronomy 32:1-43)
The Prayer of Hannah (1 Samuel 2:1-10)
The Prayer of Habakkuk (Habakkuk 3:1-19)
The Prayer of Isaiah (Isaiah 26:9-20)
The Prayer of Jonah (Jonah 2:2-9)
The Prayer of the Three Holy Children (Daniel 3:26-56])*
The Song of the Three Holy Children (Daniel 3:57-88)*
The Song of the Theotokos (the Magnificat, Luke 1:46-55); the Song of Zacharias (the Benedictus, Luke 1:68-79)

* These are from those sections of Daniel that were originally written in Greek, therefore not found in the Mesoretic text of the OT — the basis of the OT for most modern English bibles. Most commonly these hymns will be found in what Protestants call the Apocrypha

For those that doubt that there are a plethora of potential ideas found within these prayers, take this from the opening verse of the Prayer of Hannah:

My heart is strengthened in the Lord;
My horn is exalted in my God.
I smile at my enemies.

The word horn is a symbol for strength and power and therefore plays off the word strengthened in the first line (which is a typical poetic form in Hebrew). It is also the inspiration for this:

The Horn of Strength

This rare magical item looks like a hollowed out ram horn fitted with a golden mouth piece. When the horn is sounded by blowing through the mouth piece, everyone in a 15'r. is granted the strength of an ogre (as per Gauntlets of Ogre Strength) for 1d6 rounds. This effect may be used once per day.

Jumping on the Better GM Bandwagon

2011-08-19T19:42:00.001-05:00

Okay, I'll hop on the bandwagon. A gauntlet has been thrown down over at Hill Cantons and, like several others in the blogosphere, I'll pick it up. I must begin, however, with a quibble about the questions:

Name three “best practices” you possess as a GM. What techniques do you think you excel at?

What makes those techniques work? Why do they “pop”?

How do you do it? What are the tricks you use? What replicable, nuts-and-bolts tips can you share?

Note that he says GM, which implies a much more universal framework than I'm willing to concede, at least in context of my answer. I primarily play various flavors of D&D, and only run games using older editions or the retro-clones that emulate them. Therefore, my answers are going to be very specific to a style of play influenced by the rules and "genre" of earlier editions of D&D. Whether or not they can be applied to any other rule set or genre is up to you.

Premise: D&D is at its best when it is a pastiche, because that is where it originated.

Therefore: My best campaigns and the best sessions I have within those campaigns are those that embrace, encourage and enable that pastiche.

Why: James over a Grognardia made two interesting observations about his experience at the OSRCon in Toronto. Firstly, how comfortable it was for him to run a pair of Dwimmermount sessions. Secondly, how comfortable Ed Greenwood seemed running his session in Forgotten Realms. This comfort in both cases comes from familiarity — Greenwood from spending decades steeped in his creation and James from running a continuous campaign for a couple of years.

For those of us who don't have the luxury of that kind of time or suffer from bouts of Gamer ADD, the best way to simulate this familiarity is by filling our game worlds with the familiar — pastiche from all kinds of stories, movies and genres. This familiarity breeds comfort, which breeds confidence, which is essential for creativity.

Given this premise, here are three ways in which I embrace, encourage and enable pastiche in my games:

Unapologetically steal ideas from everywhere. If an idea, story, image, movie, adventure module, trap, monster, whatever inspires you USE IT. You will naturally put your own spin on it and by the time it emerges from gameplay it will have transformed into something entirely new — but it will come from a familiar place that allows you the confidence to own the idea. The fact that you liked it in the first place will just fuel the creative fire.
Allow your players to bring their creativity to the table. This is, in part, an extension of my first point — don't be shy from using ideas that come from your players. If they come up with a theory for why something exists, happened, etc. don't be shy about incorporating it in part or in whole. This allows players to participate in your world and allows them to own it as much as you do. This, however, is only part of how to make players comfortable and familiar with your world. If they expect gravity to work, allow gravity to work. If it doesn't, give them a viable explanation as to why. What I mean by this is that if you have a giant system of gears that the players want to sabotage by literally throwing a wrench into the works, allow the wrench to muck things up. If it can't, give them viable cues as to why (there is a force field; the gears are made of stronger material than the wrench, etc.). Don't be afraid to decide these things via caveat rather than a die roll.
Finally, don't be afraid of genre-bending. One of the primary themes of the game is exploration. One of the best ways to simulate this is by breaking genre. It helps bring about a sense of wonder. One of the most memorable sessions I've ever played was on board a derelict space ship…in space. It also forces you to be creative in order to justify how such a break in genre is possible.

Serendipity: Runes

2011-08-17T19:56:00.000-05:00

I was perusing the Carmina Gadelica in search of something that might pass for "three lullabies in an ancient tongue" when I ran across an interesting term: rune. I, being a grumpy old RPGer, think of something like this when I hear that word:

I also associate runes with magic (being an old stand-by for explaining how Dwarves are so good at making magical weapons even in worlds where they can't cast spells).

However, Webster also defines rune as a song or a poem. Lo and behold, the Carmina Gadelica has several examples. What struck me about these examples is how Christian and Trinitarian many of them are. For example:

I am bending my knee
In the eye of the Father who created me,
In the eye of the Son who purchased me,
In the eye of the Spirit who cleansed me.
In friendship and affection.

After doing a little research, I found out that a runic alphabet was in use in Southern France several centuries prior to the assumed time frame of Averoigne (circa AD1100-1300). Therefore, not only do I have several possible "lullabies" but an ancient script with which they can be recorded.

I am not going to stop there, however. Take a look at this rune:

Today is the Day of Bride,
The serpent shall come from the hole,
I will not molest the serpent,
Nor will the serpent molest me.

Note the implied Protection spell (from Dragons? Devils?). It suggests that this rune (a poem) unlocks a rune (a letter carved into an item) in order to get a runic (spell) effect. This sets up a very cool built-in quest to magical items that also gives players a clue as to what an item does: the rune (poem) gives a clue as to the effect of the rune (letter) and these two can be in different locations.

In context of the Chateau des Faussesflammes, I plan on using this construct primarily with the Purple Piper, who will be a source of runes (poems), but not necessarily runes (letters).

Heraldry of Faussesflammes

2011-08-16T11:29:00.000-05:00

I am a big fan of heraldry and intend to use it as a visual cue for players while exploring various levels of the Chateau des Faussesflammes. Thus, I spent some time putting together these designs as well as a brief explanation for each of the main characters of the Chateau:

Crimson King

I chose the image of a crow for a couple reasons. Firstly, it has pagan overtones, given their association with the Wotanic mythology. Secondly, it calls to mind the collective noun murder, as in a murder of crows. The color crimson is indicated by both the border and the crown.

Black Queen

I like the simplicity and starkness of this image. Since I plan on have the Black Queen being the most active of these background characters (by way of her various minions) I hope that the characters will be filled with dread when they see a black crown...

Purple Piper

The imagery here comes from the vestments of an Orthodox Christian monk. It represents Golgotha (the place of the skull) with the sponge of vinegar and the spear the pierced Christ's side. This is one of the most misleading of the images here. I plan to use the Purple Piper as a kind of patron — someone who passively directs the players and sends them on missions through hints and riddles; however, I don't necessarily want the players to immediately trust him. Thus, I have left off the Cross, which would normally be part of this image.

Pilgrim

The three birds at the top are peacocks and the ermine below is one that could pass for feathers. In Orthodox Christian iconography, peacock feathers are used to represent the (many-eyed) Cherubim. I felt this angelic imagery (where angel means messenger) was very appropriate for the Pilgrim.

Gardener

As I mentioned before, when King Clovis became Christian, he was granted the vision of an angel handing him a flower. I thought this image was quite apropos given this heraldic symbol is not only associated with French kings, but could pass for the symbol of a gardener as well.

Pattern Juggler

Coats of arms can get quite complicated, especially when trying to represent various lineages and individuals all at the same time (take a look at the heraldry associated with the English crown, for example). Thus, in order to represent the multiple personalities of the Pattern Juggler, I mimicked this heraldic trope of complicated patterns in quarters and the mini-shield in the middle.

Yellow Jester

Finally, this image pulls together some themes from both the Pattern Juggler (with the background pattern representing the chaos surrounding the last of the Merovingian Kings as well as their shrinking power) and the Crimson King (the crown, creating a visual bookend for the beginning and end of the line). The yellow lion is somewhat related to French heraldry and I thought it ironic that such a strong image should be associated with such a pathetic character.

Saintly Saturday: St. Maximos the Confessor

2011-08-13T10:59:00.000-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Maximos the Confessor. Now known as an eminent theologian, he was the chief secretary for the Roman Emperor Heraclius in the seventh century. When the emperor's grandson (Constans II) came to power, the heresy of Monophilitism (the belief that Christ had no human will, only a divine will) became very popular in the court. Therefore, Maximos voluntarily left to become a monk of the Monastery at Chrysopolis, where he eventually he became abbot.

As a monk he taught, spoke out and wrote against Monophilitism. Eventually, the emperor tried to get the saint to stop. When Maximos refused, his tongue was cut out (to prevent teaching and speaking) and his right hand was cut off (to prevent him from writing). He was then sent into exile, where he reposed in the year 662.

As I've pointed out before, the title Confessor is given to to those who are imprisoned, tortured and/or sent into exile for the faith but are not martyred. And, as before, it might seem strange that St. Maximos would willingly choose to be tortured and exiled over what at first glance seems to be a minor point — especially when it was an attempt by the court to allow the Chalcedonian and Non-Chalcedonian churches to exist together under the same umbrella.

St. Gregory the Theologian (also known as Gregory of Nazianzus) famously argued in a letter to Cledonius:

That which He has not assumed He has not healed; but that which is united to His Godhead is also saved.

Thus, anyone arguing that any part of humanity is not part of the human nature of Christ means that they are arguing that Christ's salvation is somehow incomplete. Monophilitism is a particularly insidious version of this argument, because it not only denies that the free will of man is healed or saved, but that it is not part of God's plan of salvation. Those of you who are familiar with this blog know that free will, choice and freedom are not only very dear to me, but that I will argue that they are the bedrock of the Christian faith.

***

The Tongue of St. Maxim

This bizarre item looks like the bronze casting of a human tongue. If it weren't for the divine magic that can be detected on it, the tongue would have little value. Even melted down, the metal seems to be of such poor quality as to be worthless. However, when a prayer for guidance is directed at the tongue, it functions as a Detect Lie spell. Should a lie be detected, the tongue changes into the forked tongue of a serpent. This power may be used once per day. Should a user ever try to use the tongue to cast the reverse of Detect Lie — Undetectable Lie — not only will the item be destroyed (turning to dust), but the user will be cursed. Every time they speak a lie, they take 1d6 damage.

A Sample Wandering Monster Table

2011-08-12T11:35:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, after making much about how the sample Wandering Monster Tables in Holmes & Cook suggest "a living, breathing environment that is in constant flux, where creatures from different levels are, if not constantly interacting with each other, moving through each other's territory on a regular basis." A look at my working cross section for my version of the Chateau des Faussesflammes, however, reveals that the first level of the dungeon is largely isolated from the rest of the dungeon. Therefore the tables as implemented and modeled in Holmes & Cook don't make much sense in context of the dungeon I am trying to use them for.

This is, in part, why I wanted to do all that math — in order to understand the methodology in order to adapt it from three tables into one table. I want to paint the picture of a living, breathing environment but cannot logically do it in the same manner.

Holmes uses a d12 to determine wandering monsters. Cook uses a d20 — as will I because it gives be more entries to help emulate a larger population. As I noted yesterday, Holmes allows for a 25% chance for a 2nd level encounter and an 8% chance for a 3rd level encounter for every wandering monster roll on the first dungeon level. On a d20 this translates into five second level encounters and two 3rd level encounters; however, there is also one 2nd level encounter already present on Holmes' first level list — the Gelatinous Cube. Thus, I will up the number of 2nd level encounters on my list to six.

Conceptually, the idea that Holmes & Cook imply by having so much cross pollination between dungeon levels is that there are different factions that co-exist and/or are fighting over territory. Since there is very little interaction between the first level and other levels in my dungeon, one of the sources for interaction (and therefore factions) needs to be outside the dungeon.

Therefore of the two basic factions (in which there might be sub-factions — I haven't decided yet), one is native to the dungeon and one is an outside interloper. Since CAS specifically refers to goblins being one of the main dangers of the Forest of Averoigne, they will play the role of interloper. The natives I will simply call the Merovingians. They will include various undead (the first level being a crypt), berserkers (normal men who have been possessed by malevolent spirits) and red caps (the most likely of the goblin-types to be affected by the aforementioned spirits).

So, without further ado, here (closely cleaving to the math I did yesterday) is my Wandering Monster Table for the first level of the Chateau des Faussesflammes:

Jaques de la Lanterne (1)
Fire Beetles (1d3)
Tettix (1)
Gelatinous Cube (1)
Giant Ticks (1d3)
Giant Rats (2d6) + Pookas (1d3)
Giant Toad (1) + Pooka (1)
Kobolds (3d6)
Goblins (2d4)
Bogies (2d4)
Skeleton (2d8)
Zombies (1d3)
Zombies (1d4)
Ghoul (1d2)
Merovingian Ghoul (1d6)
Merovingian Hound (1d3)
Berserkers (1d4)
Berserkers (2d4)
Red Caps (1d4)
Red Caps (2d4)

Holmes & Cook: Wandering Monster Tables

2011-08-11T10:19:00.001-05:00

I am not a big fan of Challenge Levels/Ratings or whatever you want to call them. There is an implication that every encounter ought to be balanced so that the party should be able to handle it, etc. This, of course, runs counter to my own old-school upbringing where I expect there to be encounters well beyond the ability of a party of adventurers because running away is not only an option, but sound strategy.

Nevertheless, in describing how to create a Wandering Monster Table, Holmes strongly implies something akin to Challenge Levels/Ratings:

First level adventurers encountering monsters typically found on the first level of a dungeon should be faced with roughly equal numbers, i.e. a party of three would encounter 2-6 orcs, 3-12 giant rats, etc. However, if the party were second level, or the first level monsters were encountered on the second level of the dungeon, the number of wandering monsters encountered should be doubled. In a like manner, the number of monsters should be tripled for third level adventures or in the third level of the dungeon if the monsters appearing are first level.

This is not quite the modern conception of a Challenge Level/Rating, because the strength of the encounter is tied as much to location as it is to the strength of the party. Even so, in order to deconstruct the example Wandering Monster Tables found in Holmes and Cook, I need some way to quantify a monster's strength. Of course, this can be done roughly by means of HD, but a 2HD creature with four attacks per round and an AC of 0 can be a lot more dangerous than a 4HD creature with one attack and an AC of 7.

Enter Peter Regan's Oubliette Magazine. In Issue number 5, where Don Turnbull's Monster Mark System (originally published in White Dwarf Magazine in 1978/79) is updated for use with Labyrinth Lord, a couple of tables are provided with all the math necessary to come up with a rating system for most monsters. I say most because the math is based on HD, AC and attack damage. Thus, special abilities are not taken into account which makes rating monsters such as a Wight (which does no damage but does have a level drain) difficult, if not impossible to rate. However, given that LL closely emulates Cook's Expert and that the Monster Mark System is useful for rating most monsters I decided to use it as a means to examine the Wandering Monster Tables of Holmes and Cook.

I won't bore you with the math, but here are the approximate average Monster Mark Ratings of each encounter found in the Wandering Monster Tables:

Level 1 = 5
Level 2 = 15
Level 3 = 35
Level 4-5 = 95
Level 6-7 = 175
Level 8 = 635

In order to make this math cleave closer to Holmes' advice (where there ought be be more of a differentiation between levels 4 and 5 as well as levels 6 and 7), it is possible to extrapolate the following:

Level 1 = 5
Level 2 = 10
Level 3 = 20
Level 4 = 40
Level 5 = 80
Level 6 = 160
Level 7 = 320
Level 8 = 640

There are two interesting things about these tables. Firstly, the relative challenge of level progression is (roughly) exponential. Though this may simply be a quirk of the math involved, it is still fascinating. The other feature isn't immediately obvious in any of the numbers seen above. In each table, at every level there are always outliers whose Monster Mark Rating is much higher than the average. For example:

Level 1 = 10
Level 2 = 23
Level 3 = 61
Level 4-5 = 150
Level 6-7 = 418
Level 8 = 3410 (!)

Thus, there is a built-in expectation that every level of a dungeon will have an encounter that at face value is beyond the ability of a party to be able to deal with/survive. This expectation is reinforced by the fact that Homles allows for 1st Level Wandering Monster rolls to be made on the 2nd level table 25% of the time and on the 3rd level 8% of the time.

This paints the picture of a living, breathing environment that is in constant flux, where creatures from different levels are, if not constantly interacting with each other, moving through each other's territory on a regular basis.

Prestige Classes Old-School Style

2011-08-09T12:27:00.000-05:00

One of the concepts in 3.5 that I do like is the prestige class. Conceptually, they are a great way to personalize a campaign world and to allow players to interact with that world in order to go down the paths necessary to become a member of a prestige class. In practice, however, it always seems to encourage optimization and a character progression divorced from what is actually occurring in the campaign.

Recently, I posited a couple of thought experiments. One of the more interesting comments was from Anthony who reminded me of the career system from WFRP. That got me to thinking if something could be tacked onto an older system of D&D.

Jeff Rients and Beedo, among others have pointed out that there is plenty of textual evidence to support the idea that the first several levels of character development are apprenticeship levels. In addition, around 4th level characters move beyond being an apprentice to some kind of hero status. Herein I see a means for understanding and implementing the concept of the prestige class. [BTW I am going to go human-centric here, but the concept is easily applied to demi-humans and demi-human classes.]

All characters begin the game with one of the basic three (four) classes. The first three levels are apprenticeship/proving ground levels. Those that survive and prove their worth then embark on one of several career paths depending upon the campaign, what has become available to them and player desire. The most obvious path is the class as written; however, if the character is willing to make a trade-off in powers/abilities/obligations for other class abilities, they can chose what amounts to a prestige class. They continue to advance as their original class in terms of XP requirements. Here are some for instances for each class:

Cleric

One interpretation of the normal class progression of the cleric is ordination. Prior to gaining 4th level, clerics are alcolytes — trainees trying to decide whether or not ordination is their path. Alternative career paths for cleric characters could represent choices made by those who decide either not to get ordained or ordained into a specific order/ministry. For example, one could become a Healer.

Disadvantage: Healers do not improve in their ability to Turn Undead beyond 3rd level; Healers acquire spells as a cleric one level lower (no new spells are gained at 4th level; at 5th level, they gain spells as a 4th level cleric).

Abilities: Healers may Lay on Hands at 1hp/level per day; they may spontaneously use any spell slot as a cure spell (they can prepare several non-healing spells but cast them as cure spells). The efficacy of the spell must be of an equal or lesser spell level as the spell slot used.

Fighter

At 4th level, fighters may choose to take the path of a Berserker.

Disadvantage: There is a 5% chance that every time a Berserker goes into a Rage that they will lose control and attack the nearest person regardless if they are friend or foe.

Abilities: In combat, a Berserker can go into a Berserker's Rage. While in a Rage, the Berserker can trade AC for a either a bonus to hit or a bonus to damage or a combination. That maximum bonus available is +4. Thus, at maximum, a Berserker could decrease their AC by 8 and gain a +4 to hit and damage. Note: this maximum is only achievable if the Berserker has the AC to give. For example, if the base AC of a Berserker is 6, the maximum number of AC they can give up for a bonus is 3 (where AC 9 = no armor).

Magic-User

At 4th level, a magic-user may choose to take the dark path of the Necromancer.

Disadvantage: Necromancy is illegal in most civilized lands; a necromancer sacrifices a level of spell progression in order to gain the ability to Control Undead. There also may be physical signs of necromancy (pallid complexion, yellowed eyes, sunken cheeks, etc.) that get worse as the ability to Control Undead increases.

Ability: The Necromancer can Control Undead using the Turn Undead table as a 1st level cleric. As the Necromancer progresses in level, they may choose to gain more spells or gain another level on the Control Undead table.

Thief

At 4th level, a thief may choose to pursue the path of the Assassin.

Disadvantage: The Assassin forgoes improving normal Thief abilities for each level that they wish to improve their Assassin ability.

Abilities: Assassins may use their backstab ability any time they attack from surprise (during surprise rounds as well as when using Move Silently and Hide Shadows) as well as any time they hit by 5 or more than they need. At additional levels, Assassins may sacrifice increasing their Thief skills in order to increase their backstab multiplier.

All of these can be fiddled with according the needs of a particular campaign world. In addition, there is no limit to the number of possibilities: monks, knights, paladins, battle mages, spies are just a few I can think of off the top of my head.

R is for Old School Wisdom

2011-08-08T10:58:00.000-05:00

I am not ashamed to say that I do not have a whole lot of disposable income for the purposes of purchasing material for the hobbyist in me. There are other folks in my life that are more important to me than the games I play. That being said, I do allow myself a purchases now and again. I mostly indulge in .pdfs because I can stretch my money more and they don't take up any room on my already overflowing bookcases; however, occasionally I do put a physical book on my wishlist. One such book was Michael Curtis' Dungeon Alphabet because this one of those resources that I felt I would get more out of by holding in my hands as opposed to being a bunch of electronic data (my instincts were correct). Unfortunately, this also meant I had to wait until such time I could give myself enough of an excuse to shell out the extra dough in order to get it.

Thus, I only received my copy this past weekend; however, its arrival came with it a funny story wrapped up in a little wisdom. When I opened the package containing the Dungeon Alphabet, my 6-year old son was immediately drawn to Erol Otis' cover art. He was especially enthralled by the fact it was so obviously an alphabet book (much cooler than anything he has seen at school) and very proudly started to identify the letters on the cover. Having not yet gone through all the illustrations to make sure they were age-appropriate, I stuck to the familiar cover art and started playing "A is for ____." We started at the bottom, because it was the first that entered by brain:

W is for Weird
V is for Vermin
U is for Undead
T is for Traps
S is for Statue

At this point I drew a blank. Therefore, I decided to see if my son could come up with anything surprising. So I asked him what he thought the R was for. His response was just awesome:

Run Away.

Out of the mouth of babes (Psalm 8:2; Matthew 21:16). It just goes to show that there is an inherent wisdom in at least some the ways we old school players expect to play our games...

Saintly Saturday: Transfiguration

2011-08-06T02:17:00.000-05:00

David the ancestor of God, foreseeing in the Spirit Your coming unto men in the flesh, O Only-Begotten Son, from afar calls creation together to make merry, and prophetically cries out: Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in Your Name. For when You went up into this mountain with Your disciples, O Savior, You were transfigured, making the nature that was darkened in Adam to shine like lightning once again, and transforming it into the glory and brightness of Your Divinity. Wherefore we cry to You: O Creator of all, Lord, glory be to You. — Great Vespers of the Transfiguration

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration — the moment when Christ reveals his divine glory to the disciples Peter, James and John as recorded in Matthew 17:1-9, Mark 9:2-8 and Luke 9:28-36. The crux of the feast is elucidated in the hymn above: the nature that was darkened in Adam is made to shine like lightening once again.

In other words, humanity is endowed with the image and likeness of God. We were created from the outset to be able look like this:

We don't because we refuse to see the image and likeness not just in ourselves, but in other people. So many of the problems that beset us today stem from this one sad fact.

I have been plodding away through almost three years and 300 posts on this blog and I keep coming back, I keep reading, I keep writing, I keep finding a reason to be creative and share what I create. A big part of the reason why is the people who exist in this part of the blogosphere. We are a contentious lot who have very strong opinions and who happily disagree with each other; however, I consistently find people seeing value in others and what they do. In its own, strange convoluted way, the OSR manifests what the feast of the Transfiguration is all about — finding that part of our fellow human beings that has value because we are made in the image and likeness of God.

Therefore, I'd like to take the occasion to thank everyone out there for making the world a better place.