When Games Aren't Enough

This has been one of the worst weeks of my life. My son Gabriel died inside his mother's womb. The ordeal only begins with the horrifying news that your child has died. You still have to go to the hospital, to the delivery ward and give birth to a corpse. Then you come face to face with how fragile life really is, and at how inadequate and powerless you really are. Politics, economics, nationality, philosophy, etc. are meaningless when you see your child taken away before you ever get to know them.

The only that thing makes any sense at all is Christ. It is for this very reason that He came. He took on our humanity, went to the cross with it, to the tomb with it, resurrected with it, ascended into heaven with it and now sits at the right hand of the Father in glory with it. By sharing in our nature in such an intimate way, we are now able to share in His nature. Our humanity sits at the right hand of the Father in glory, our nature is sharing in God's eternity. In Christ, we have eternal life. In Christ, Gabriel's broken form has hope and life.

In a way, this is why I write this blog. All things humanity does is rendered meaningless in death, including (and especially) this game we play; however, I allow Christ into every aspect of my life, including the way I play D&D. Through Him, even something as frivolous as rolling a d20 can bring hope. Playing D&D cannot be an escape from the reality my son is dead, but it can be an expression of my faith in Christ's words, "Let the little children come to Me, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven" (Luke 18:16).

May Gabriel's memory be eternal.

In Defense of Clerics II

In my last post, I made the argument that Clerics belong in D&D, especially considering the historical simulation roots of the game. However, there are the arguments that the mace-wielding battling bishop is not very historical and that Clerics were only born out of the need to fight the vampire Mr. Fang. This is where the war gaming roots of D&D become important.

War games are by their very nature abstract, and, when it comes to those meant for public consumption, are meant to entertain. This results, on the one hand, in arbitrary mechanical and mathematical representations of all kinds of things like troop size, training, skill, technology, speed, range, etc. On the other hand, in order to make the game entertaining, there is also a need to balance things out so that one side, or one troop choice, etc., has advantages and disadvantages that create interesting game play. It is out of this perspective that D&D has the classic Fighting Man and Magic User. One choice allows all weapons and armor, but no magic while the other choice forgoes all weapons but the most basic and all armor in order to be able to use magic. This concept of classes does not come from literature, where magic wielding characters of all stripes are seen wielding swords and even wear armor — its roots are in war gaming.

This is where the Cleric begins to make sense. A need arose within the game — Mr. Fang and how to defeat him — and new mechanics had to be created. Given the historic pedigree of Christian adventurers, the medievalism of the game and the iconic image of vampire hunters wielding a cross to fend off the undead, it made sense for the new class to be some kind of psuedo-Christian adventuring priest. Given the mechanical balance of Fighting Men and Magic Users, it made sense that the Cleric should sit somewhere in-between:

Clerics gain some of the advantages from both of the other two classes (Fighting-Men and Magic-Users) in that they have the use of magic, armor and all non-edged magic weapons (no arrows!), plus they have numbers of their own spells. — Men & Magic

Note that the justification of "weapons that don't draw blood" is only inferred, not explicit. Rather, it is an easily defined category of weapons that arbitrarily limit the number of weapons a Cleric can use. The armor-clad, mace-wielding bishop may largely be absent from history, but from a war gaming perspective it just makes sense. So much so, that it has been with us since 1974.

In Defense of Clerics

Since I started to connect with the RPG community on the net, especially those interested in old-school gaming, I have found that the Cleric is not a very popular class. This dislike ranges from the ambivalence of James over at Grognardia to the elimination of the class in Geoffrey McKinney's Carcosa to Delta's outright glee of removing the class from his gaming. Now, I am not going to say that any of these interpretations of the game are wrong. In fact, I appreciate the fact that each of them is coming at the game from the perspective of the S&S roots of D&D. I even use James' interpretation of the class as a kind of Magic User when dealing with non-Christian/pagan priests. However, there is another perspective: the historical simulation in the war gaming roots of D&D.

I have to admit that I played my first war game before I ever heard of D&D and in my adult life have played as many hours war gaming as I have role-playing, if not more. I am also a trained historian. Thus, this aspect of the game's roots really speaks to me and I emphasize it in my games.

When looking at the game from the perspective of historic simulation, the Cleric deserves its place in the game. Not only has religion been central to every culture in human history, but Christianity has been a major factor in European history and culture since the second century. One need only look at the weapons and armor in D&D to realize that the combat being simulated is based primarily on the way war was fought in Medieval Europe, when Christianity was not only dominant, but assumed.

The spell list  for Clerics in D&D reflect this historic reality — they simulate the kinds of miracles that fill Christian lore. When you believe that every Christian is the temple of God Himself, in the person of the Holy Spirit, then daily miracles are not out of place.

In terms of the classic D&D paradigm of Law vs. Chaos, Christianity has historically been equated with Law and civilization in Europe. When Rome fell, it was the Church that sheltered and protected people. It was the Church that protected the vestiges of civilization — books, scrolls, etc. — because it valued things like science, philosophy and education.

History is full of Christian adventurers. Monastics travelled the wilderness — the Biblical realm of demons — in order to take on the devil where he lives. Missionaries travelled into barbarian lands to spread the Gospel. They followed the example of the Apostles, who travelled as far as India in the east, and Britain in the west. Before them, the prophets took on all manner of ancient armies and pagan gods.

I will grant that S&S often seems incompatible, indifferent or even hostile to Christianity. Given this, the Cleric seems out of place. However, S&S itself provides the answer as to why the Cleric has a solid place in D&D — the genre blending that S&S is so comfortable with. Given that one standard fantasy trope is to tell stories of earth's distant future and given that the Church is not just a human institution, but also a divine one — "And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it" (Matt. 16:18) — the Church easily fits into any world that depicts a future earth because the Church will survive into that future. Indeed, this is the model I use in my Erimia campaign.

Whether or not you use the Cleric in your games is largely up to how much you want to pay homage to the historic simulation of war games at the root of D&D. Whereas it is possible to say that I don't want Clerics in my game, it is impossible to say that Clerics don't belong at all. I hope that some of you will explore the historic simulation roots of our hobby and learn to embrace the Cleric as gleefully as I have.

 

Appendix N

I know I'm quite late to this party, and two things are going on here to make me so. First, life continues to happen and there are a couple of books on this list which, though very influential, I had a hard time remembering titles and authors' names for. Second, though I have written about the shift away from literature our hobby has made, I had failed to realize how radical that shift was until recently. In other words, I thought the exercise was a bit of fun, but not really important.

I am trying to be an ambassador for old school gaming and am close to convincing a 3.5 group to give me a chance to run a game with them. However, I found myself at a loss when trying to describe some of the settings I have ready to play. Here are a few of the terms, titles and names that had absolutely no meaning to my audience: high fantasy, dark fantasy, Lovecraft, Moorcock, Elric, Vance, Dying Earth, and the Black Company. When these failed to evoke any meaning, all of the examples that they came up with to find some kind of footing were self-referential — RPG settings or games. 

I should know better, but I was stunned. Thus, in order to rectify this reality I came face to face with, even in only a small and insignificant way, I give you my own personal (inexhaustive) Appendix N: 

The Old Testament. This is just chuck full of great stuff, especially if you like clerics, as I do. Elijah vs. the priests of Baal is still one of my all-time favorite stories (1Kings 18:1-46).

Alexander, Lloyd, The Chronicals of Prydain. These were the first full blown fantasy books I ever read. The image of the Black Cauldron pouring out an army of undead Cauldron-Born is hard not to be inspired by.

Cook, Glen, The Black Company. This book contributed to my group's proclivity towards dark fantasy and the nigh-hopeless fight against overwhelming evil. It inspired inclusion of several mercenary companies in our campaigns, and at least one campaign centered on all characters being members of a mercenary company. It also taught us that character death could be cool and even seen as an opportunity.  

Leiber, Fritz. I remember reading several stories of Grey Mouser and Fafhrd, wondering how this affected D&D. I then went on to play my first thief, to create campaigns centered on being in a city, and even named a character Mouse.

Lovecraft, H.P. Lovecraft's incredible images of the creeping alien evil always at the edge of your vision, always hungering for your entire being, and the utter madness of choosing to follow it into oblivion have inspired me for years.

Moorcock, Michael, Stormbringer, etc. I was never much of a fan, and only vaguely remember trying to read some of his stuff; however, my friends were huge fans and the worlds I adventured in as a player were heavily influenced by Moorcock.

Tolkien, JRR, The Hobbit. I have to admit that as much as I admire the other works of Tolkien, it took me 20+ years of struggling to actually get through the Lord of the Rings trilogy and I never intend to read them again. However, the Hobbit profoundly affected the way I imagined D&D. The quest to recover the lost treasure of a by-gone era, forests filled with giant spiders, and magic swords with names are still integral to my understanding of the game.

Vance, Jack, The Dying Earth. I was one of those players who always chaffed at the Vancian magic of D&D until I read this. In someways, I am more comfortable with the strange, alien and genre blending world Vance created than most of the other fantasy worlds in this list.

Watt-Evans, Lawrence, The Seven Altars of Dûsarra. This was my introduction to S&S and I found this far more inspiring and useful than the stuff my friends were reading at the time (i.e. The Lord of the Rings). The protagonist (Garth the Overman) is sent to steal several powerful magical artifacts from the altars of dark and evil gods. Magic is scary; magic items are mysterious, powerful and dangerous to use; and, for those of you who point to S&S as a reason to remove the cleric from D&D, is chuck full of examples of clerics. I also credit this book for my proclivity to consistently play half-orcs (the closest thing in D&D to an Overman) on the rare occasions that I play a non-human PC.

Willey, Elizabeth, The Well-Favored Gentleman. This lovely book (one of a handful that I have read multiple times) is not only an example of what high-level D&D ought to be about — ruling, maintaining and protecting your own realm that you and your party have created — but also joyously plays with genre blending and world building using a kind of sub-planar understanding of realms.

Monster: Kouphasa

Here is another monster from the Erimia Campaign:

Kouphasa

The nations shall see and be ashamed of all their might; They shall put their hand over their mouth; Their ears shall be deaf. — Micah 7:16

 

Armor Class: 6 [13]

Hit Dice: 1

Attacks: 2 claws (1d3) or 1 weapon/beak (1d6)

Saving Throw: 15

Special: Scream

Move: 6 (on ground) 12 (in air)

Morale: 8

Challenge Level/XP: 1/15

Kouphasa are chaotic bird men with ratty feathers covering random parts of their bodies and skin ranging from blue to red covered in caruncles. Once per day, each Kouphasa can let out an earsplitting scream that can deafen any non-Kouphasa in a 30'r. Those who fail a save to negate the effect will be completely deaf for d6 turns.

Monster: Chiata

Here is another monster from the Erimia Campaign:

Chiata

As one who catches at a shadow and pursues the wind, so is anyone who believes in dreams. What is seen in dreams is but a reflection, the likeness of a face looking at itself. — Sirach 34:2-3

Armor Class: 5 [14]
Hit Dice: 2
Attacks: 2 claws (1d4+1) or 1 weapon (2d4)
Saving Throw: 15
Special: Surprise on 1-3, Shadow Magic
Move: 9
Morale: 8
Challenge Level/XP: 2/30 XP or 3/60 XP

Chiata look like humanoid panthers. They tend to be solitary hunters, but it is not unknown for them to hunt in prides to take down larger game. They prefer to attack out of ambush and avoid any stand-up fight. When fighting a group, they use hit-and-run tactics — they attempt to isolate members of the group in order to get easier kills. Chiata can see in any kind of darkness and surprise on a 1-3.

Chiati leaders all have shadow magic. On a roll of 1-2 on a d6, any Chiata encountered have one or more of the following abilities:

1. Darkness 30' r.
   
2. Shadow Shapes — functions as a Phantasmal Force spell.
   
3. Summon Shadowspawn — summons d6 creatures with 1/2HD. This can be done once per encounter.
   
4. Summon Shadowspawn — summons d3 creatures with 1HD. This can be done once per encounter.
   
5. Summon Shadow Sword — create a weapon out of shadow that functions as a +1 magic weapon. Once formed, the weapon is permanent until dispelled or exposed to sunlight, when it is immediately destroyed. Only one weapon can be summoned at a time.
   
6. Summon Shadow Armor — create a suit of +1 magical chainmail. This improves the AC of a Chiata to AC3. Once formed, the armor is permanent until dispelled or exposed to sunlight, when it is immediately destroyed. Only one suit can be summoned at a time.
   

Stocking a Dungeon

When I started my Erimia campaign, I reread Moldvay's Basic D&D and I came across the following advice for stocking a dungeon:

To "stock" a dungeon means to fill in general details, such as monsters, treasure, and traps. Special monsters should be first placed in the appropriate rooms along with special treasures. The remaining rooms can be stocked as the DM wishes. If there is no preference as to how certain rooms are stocked, the following system may be used.

He then provides a pair of tables where contents maybe determined by a d6:

Contents:
1-2 Montser
3 Trap
4 Special
5-6 Empty

Is There Treasure?
Monster Yes on 1-3
Trap Yes on 1-2
Empty Yes on 1

There is an elegance here that belies the image of random tables being random and chaotic. Using this system, and a couple of sub-tables utilizing a d6, one can create a unique feel for any dungeon map.

For example: I use this system to stock the Dungeon Beneath the Ruins in my Erimia campaign. Each level or sub-level has "special monsters" — the main or climactic encounters on each level. I place some special features, some treasure and leave the rest to the random table. However, the random table is tightly controlled. I use a template with the following pattern:

1-2 Humanoid
3 Animal
4 Undead
5 Vermin
6 Chaos Beast

These numbers can be altered to change frequency, depending on the feel for each level. Each of these results then goes to a sub-table which give a specific result. This is where every level gets its true character. If you have a sub-level occupied by goblinoids next to a sub-level full of lizard-folk, the humanoid sub-table for each could look like this:

1-3 Goblins
4 Hobgoblins
5 Bugbears
6 Lizardmen

1-3 Lizardmen
4-5 Troglodytes
6 Goblins

Keeping each small table within a theme creates the sense of an ecosystem. Since each table has a maximum of six entries, it takes very little effort to create.

There are several advantages to this:

1. It saves time. As a Referee I don't have to worry about stocking everything in a huge mega-dungeon.
2. It makes the dungeon extremely portable and recyclable. I can use the same dungeon several times and have it be different each time. When players clear out a level, restocking is not much of an issue.
3. It is as much an adventure for the Referee as it is for the player. I get to have the fun of seeing my dungeon develop in an organic way through the interaction of my concept, the players and some dice.

The lesson here is that random tables are only as crazy and chaotic as you allow them to be. When tightly controlled, they are an invaluable tool.

Picking up the Gauntlet: Random Tables for Everything

Despite the fact that I have played Champions more than any other RPG except for D&D, my favorite superhero RPG of all time is Villains and Vigilantes. The reason is simple: I love the random tables for character generation. In fact, all my best characters in Champions found their genesis in those tables. Like many who prefer the ways of the old-school, I embrace the chaos of the random table.

Meditating upon the "why" of this love affair, I propose two very good reasons to let go, roll those dice, and see what the tables have to say about life, the universe and everything:

1) It saves time.

Meticulously plotted adventure paths are extremely time consuming. Even if you've shelled out your hard earned money to pay someone else to do it for you, if you are going to Referee the thing, you have to spend several hours reading over everything to make sure that you are prepared. In contrast, with a good wandering monster table, a treasure table, and a map, you can be ready to DM in minutes. This is a particular blessing when players decide to take your carefully constructed plot and throw it out the window by doing something unpredictable. Once you've established a few things from the tables, you can use your time far more efficiently to come up with reasons why the world is the way the tables says it is. In the end, you'll have a story that not only didn't put an unnecessary burden on your time, but was primarily put into motion by your players.

2) "Assuredly, I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all those who have given to the treasury; for they all put in out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had" (Mark 12:43-44).

A priest once quoted this piece of scripture in response to the radical inequality and injustice that exists in the world. It isn't the hand that you are dealt that matters, but, rather, how you play it. The poor widow was dealt a really crappy hand, but she played it brilliantly.

In other words, random tables will test your ability as a player. Both Referees and Players will have to apply all their skills in order to make the result of the die make sense. In the end, the die result isn't what matters, but rather what you do with it. A player who can make magic with a weird result from a random table is a better player than one who refuses to make the roll.

Please note: I do not advocate being a slave to the die roll. On the contrary, using random tables takes skill and there are times and results that push my own abilities beyond their limits. On countless occasions I have thrown out results because I could not see a way to make them work. However, these unworkable results inevitably are a catalyst for ideas that I would never have thought of otherwise.

Picking up the Gauntlet: Character Creation

Over on Grognardia, James has thrown down a gauntlet, of sorts. I'd like to take up that gauntlet and meditate on a few aspects of what I consider to be old school.

First up, I would like to propose two axioms about old school character creation:

1) What makes a Fighting Man a Barbarian, a Knight, or a Gladiator is the way it is played, not the mechanics behind it.

Old school games rely heavily on player skill, imagination, and creativity. The mechanics are meant to be a spring board for player to do what ever they want. In contrast, newer school games define classes (or whatever they might be called) by the mechanics themselves. This may have the illusion of player skill, imagination, and creativity; however, when mechanics define a character, there is always certain mechanical paths that are going to take advantage of the system better than others. Thus, imagination and creativity are actually stifled, not encouraged.

For Example: Champions seems to have old school credentials, given that it was originally published in 1981. However, I do not classify it as an old school game. One reason for this is that mechanics entirely define the character in Champions. My character may be able to produce fire, but unless I've bought a power that allows me to either raise the temperature in an area or light up an area, my character can do neither of these things. In addition, virtually every character I ever created for Champions (and I played a lot of Champions) had a Dex of 23. Mathematically, this was the most efficient Dex a character could have, and it was just too expensive to do anything else.

For Example: In 3.5, Bards have the class ability Bardic Knowledge. They roll and are able to learn a random bit of info about a particular aspect of their game world. If a Bard has the skill Knowledge (History) with five ranks or more, the Bard receives a +2 on Bardic Knowledge rolls. This mechanically punishes players who want to have Bards with other specialties and virtually guarantees that every 3.5 Bard is going to have five ranks of Knowledge (History).

2) The longer it takes to create a character, the heavier the mechanical burden exists in a game to prevent character death.

Old School games are comfortable with character death. I've written on this before. One reason for this is that characters are so easy to create, that one doesn't have to spent a lot of time out of game to replace the dead character. Sometimes, it is as easy as taking over a henchman. In contrast, games that require a lot of time in character creation balk at having players have to go through that effort again.

For Example: In Champions, it is very difficult to die. Every character has both Stun and Body. The vast majority of attacks can only penetrate standard defenses to do Stun, not Body. Thus, the end of combat results in unconsciousness, not death.

For Example: 3.5 has Challenge Ratings. Every encounter is rated to help guarantee the players will not get in over their heads.

Yog-Sothoth

Being a Lovecraft fan, I plan on sprinkling the wilderness of Erimia with quotes like this:

Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate.

One might be surprised that I intend to include H.P. Lovecraft's insidious creation, Yog-Sothoth, in my Erimia campaign. When I first considered the idea, I was a tad bit uncomfortable. Reading Lovecraft's own description, one is struck by how powerful Yog Sothoth seems:

It was an All-in-One and One-in-All of limitless being and self — not merely a thing of one Space-Time continuum, but allied to the ultimate animating essence of existence's whole unbounded sweep — the last, utter sweep which has no confines and which outreaches fancy and mathematics alike. It was perhaps that which certain secret cults of earth have whispered of as YOG-SOTHOTH, and which has been a deity under other names; that which the crustaceans of Yuggoth worship as the Beyond-One, and which the vaporous brains of the spiral nebulae know by an untranslatable Sign...

However, upon a bit of reflection, I realized that from a Christian point of view, Yog-Sothoth is a brilliant cipher for the Devil. According to Christian cosmology, the Devil is an angel who rebelled against God:

How you are fallen from heaven, O Day Star, son of Dawn! How you are cut down to the ground, you who laid the nations low! You said in your heart, "I will ascend to heaven; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit on the mount of assembly on the heights of Zaphon; I will ascend to the tops of the clouds, I will make myself like the Most High." (Isaiah 14:12-14)

The word "angel" itself means messenger, and they are also known by the title "the bodiless powers." Thus, they are part of the invisible creation. In his pride, the Devil sought to be greater than God. He tried to wrest power from God by by destroying the image of God in humanity. He first tried to destroy the relationship of God and humanity through tempting Adam and Eve to eat the fruit. Then he tried to destroy humanity's relationship to itself by tempting Cain to murder his brother Abel. Though he ultimately failed to destroy the image and likeness of God within us, he did succeed in introducing sin and death into the world. In so doing, he gained control of humanity through death and sin.

Thus, when Yog-Sothoth is described as one with space and time and yet somehow beyond space and time, this describes the Devil's being as a bodiless power. He is part of creation — space and time — at yet can move through space and time in a way incomprehensible to us — he is part of the invisible creation. Lovecraft says of Yog-Sothoth that:

he knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread.

The Old Ones become a cipher for the fallen angels that the Devil took with him in his rebellion. They broke through when humanity turned its back on God, and they strive for control of creation — a task they can never succeed at because they are part of creation. God, who is by nature something completely other than creation, sustains creation by His will. The irony is that without God's will, creation will return to the nothingness from which God created it — should the Devil and his fallen angels ever succeed in wresting complete control from God, they will cease to exist.

There are also Gnostic overtones with the description of Yog-Sothoth. Gnosticism is a heresy that claims that the creator God is really a selfish and evil demiurge that has trapped the true essence of human beings in creation. Only through "secret knowledge" does one discover their "true nature" as a spark of the "true god." One aspect that I love about Lovecraft's description of the "secret knowledge" of the Old Ones is that it leads to insanity — a fair description of anyone who willingly chooses nothingness over the eternity of life that God offers His creation.

Thus, Yog-Sothoth and the secret knowledge he offers is the patron of the forces of Chaos that inhabit the wilderness of Erimia.

Map of the Western & Eastern Caves

This is a map for the caves from the Southern Ruins for the Erimia campaign. Please note: Glue Flowers and Ant Horrors can both be found in Mutant Future and Ranine are the creation of James Maliszewski.

Western Caves

1. A patch of rather large, phosphorescent Glue Flowers [7] (HP 14, 13, 11, 9, 9, 9, 6; #AT: 1 (glue); D: special; AC 9; Morale: n/a; MV: none) grow here. Adventurers must take great care to avoid the flowers or be attacked.

2. This cavern has a slight upward incline and is covered with a snot-like substance. While being completely disgusting, the substance is seemingly harmless when touched, tasted, or otherwise interacted with. However, the slime produces a tasteless and odorless poisonous gas. After 1d10 rounds of continually being in the cavern, adventurers must save vs. poison every round or lose a point of Constitution. These losses may be recovered by leaving the cavern and breathing non-poisonous air continuously for an hour. If an adventurer's Constitution reaches 0, they fall unconscious. If they are not removed from the poisonous gas for a number of rounds equal to their Constitution, they will die.

3. Within the walls of this cave is a rich vein of precious stones. Each stone takes 1d6 turns to extract and is worth 1d10x10 gp. However, the poisonous gas from Area 2 pools here. All saves vs. poison are at -2.

4. Empty cavern.

5. This cavern has a slight upward slope and is covered in the same slime as Area 2. However, the floor of this cavern is very thin. Any adventurer who steps into the cavern will fall through the floor, falling 10 ft. Note:The whole floor will not give way —it only breaks where an adventurer steps.

6. This is the web-covered lair of a pair of Giant Crab Spiders [2] (HP 10, 8; #AT: 1 (bite); D: 1b8, poison; AC 7; Morale: 7; MV: 120(40)). There are several desiccated corpses which were former victims of the spiders. One has a large sack with 200 sp.

7. Empty Cavern

8-10. These caverns are a teeming colony of Giant Rats [d10] (HP 4, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 2, 1, 1; #AT: 1 (bite); D: 1b3, disease; AC 7; Morale: 8; MV: 120(40)). Each cavern will always have rats in them, no matter how many times the adventurers clear them out. For each encounter, there is a 1 in 6 chance that the rats have a Minor Chaotic Trait.

11. This is the lair of an Ant Horror [1] (HP 22; #AT: 2 (bites) or 1 (tail); D: 2d8/2d8 or 1d10+poison; AC 3; Morale: 7; MV: 150(50)).

12. The entrance of this cavern is partially blocked. Human-sized creatures can squeeze past, but the Ant Horror cannot. In the cave is the body of a Ipolian soldier. He wears platmail armor, a shield, a spear, short sword and silver dagger all in good condition. within the remains of a sack are 5 gems worth 100 gp each. He also wears a jeweled badge of rank worth 300 gp. Note: these items will be easily recognized by the citizens of Gate and difficult to sell there.

Eastern Caves

1. This is the lair of a Chaos Beast [1] (HP 19; #AT: 1 (bite) + gaze; D: 1d10; AC 3; Morale: 9; MV: 90(30)). This emaciated, beaked, serpentine horror is perpetually hungry and will attack anyone in the vicinity of the caves. Its gaze causes a breakdown of a person's ability to make sense out of reality. Adventurers who meet the beast's gaze must save vs. petrification or lose 1 Int. Adventurers who wish to completely avoid the gaze cannot attack. Any attack made trying to avoid the gaze is at -4 to hit and still has a 1 in 6 chance of meeting the gaze. Normally attacking will result in meeting the gaze on a 1-3 on a d6. Seeing the creature from afar has a 4 in 6 chance of meeting the gaze. All Int loss is regained after an hour. Anyone who is reduced to 0 Int becomes mindless and is unable to do anything. The Chaos Beast will not attack mindless adventurers, rather, at the first opportunity will drag them into Area 2.

2. This is a birthing chamber for the Ranine. Mindless victims are are chained to rock columns, seeded with eggs, and serve as the first meal for the Ranine young. The Chaos Beast feasts on the weakest Ranine, leaving the strongest to join the Ranines in Areas 11-15. At any one time, there are 2d6-2 mindless chained to various columns throughout the cavern.

3. Chaos energy has created a soft spot in space here. Anytime adventurers enter this cavern, there is a 1 in 6 chance that they are teleported to anyplace the DM wants.

4. This is a trash heap where the Ranine throw the bones that remain from the victims of the Chaos Beast. Thousands of bones are here, all tainted by Chaos. Any time adventurers enter this cavern 3d4 misshapen and mismatched skeletons will animate to take revenge on the living (HP 6 ea.; #AT: 1; D: 1d6; AC 7; Morale: 12; MV: 60(20)). Scattered throughout the bones are 1500 cp, 200 sp, and a potion of healing.

5. On each of the two rock columns in the middle of this cavern are carved a mockery of a mouth. When asked a question, they answer. One will always tell the truth, the other will always tell a lie. However, which one does which is determined at every question by a die roll.

6. Empty Cavern.

7. A number of chain and cuffs hang from the back wall of this cavern. The Ranine will go on hunting parties to capture victims for the Chaos Beast. Their prisoners are chained here, awaiting the Chaos Beat to eat them or render them mindless. At any time there are 1d4-1 creatures chained to the wall here.

8. This is the lair of a Ghoul [1] (HP 12; #AT: 3 (2 claws, bite); D: 1d3/1d3/1d3+paralysis; AC 6; Morale: 9; MV: 90(30)). It wears a bracelet and a necklace each worth 400 gp.

9. There is a carving in the wall of this cavern that depicts a star that falls from the sky and is now buried beneath a mountain.

10. Empty Cavern.

[Caverns 11-15 are extremely humid]

11. Ranine [4] (HP 21, 13, 5, 4; #AT: 3 (2 claws, bite); D: 1d6/1d6/1d4+paralysis; AC 4; Morale: 8; MV: 90(30)). The largest (21 hp) is a 4 HD creature and the one with 13 hp regenerates 1d4 HP per round.

12. Ranine [2] (HP 9, 9; #AT: 3 (2 claws, bite); D: 1d6/1d6/1d4+paralysis; AC 4; Morale: 8; MV: 90(30)).

13. Ranine [2] (HP 9, 8; #AT: 3 (2 claws, bite); D: 1d6/1d6/1d4+paralysis; AC 4; Morale: 8; MV: 90(30)).

14. Ranine [2] (HP 10, 7; #AT: 3 (2 claws, bite); D: 1d6/1d6/1d4+paralysis; AC 4; Morale: 8; MV: 90(30)).

15. Ranine [4] (HP 9, 7, 5, 3; #AT: 3 (2 claws, bite); D: 1d6/1d6/1d4+paralysis; AC 4; Morale: 8; MV: 90(30)). The largest (9 hp) may cast darkness (30' r.) at will and wields a magic short sword. It functions as a +1 magic weapon, but when wielded in combat it makes micro tears in the fabric of space and time. This has two side-effects: 1) All monsters and henchmen sense that something is terribly wrong and are -2 morale; 2) Every time a 20 is rolled when attacking with the weapon, a larger tear is made and there is a 1 in 20 chance that something horrible crawls through. If a know alignment spell is cast on the blade, it will register Chaotic. There is a well here from which can be heard the sound of rushing water. This can be an entrance into a sub-level or a lower level of the dungeon below. There is a locked chest wedged into a recess in the wall. It contains 1000 gp. and 200 pp.

Map of the Southern Ruins

This is a map of the southern edge of the ruined city that lies between Ipolis and Pyros Mountain in Hex 0705 of the Map of Erimia. Here is a brief write up of each of the features labeled on the map:

Tombs
These ancient tombs have long since been robbed of their original contents, but now serve as a lair for a Xeraphi war party. Above each tomb entrance is an obelisk. Once covered in runes of a long dead language, erosion has rendered them nearly smooth. The largest tomb contains an entrance into the dungeon below.

Living Statues
Sitting on a ledge just north of the tombs are what appear to be three giant, rough-hewn, humanoid statues. In reality, these are three earth elemental beings that live here. This is not a combat encounter, rather it is an atmospheric encounter. The statues cannot be harmed and they move incrementally slow — a few inches an hour when they are in a hurry. If adventurers are disrespectful, the statues can move to block their passage out of the ruins. If respectful, the statues might even try to give the adventurers clues. Otherwise, these beings demonstrate the otherworldliness of the wilderness.

Tower
This tower was carved straight from rock and stands seven stories high. Ornate glyphs cover every inch, though erosion has made it almost impossible to decipher them. The only entrance to the tower is four stories up. Within the tower is an entrance into the dungeon below.

Eastern Caves
This is the lair of a vicious Chaos Beast and a tribe of Ranine that are the beast's care-takers/worshippers. Though there is no entrance to the dungeon below from these caves, there is room for expansion into a sub-level, or lower levels of the dungeon beneath.

Western Caves
This series of caves in the home of Chaos-tainted vermin.

Gatehouse
This once belonged to the defenses of the ancient city and is one of the few surviving structures that isn't entirely carved out of the stone of the ancient river bed. It has also seen recent construction. A war party of Chaotic humanoids have turned the gatehouse into a lair, and have rebuilt its defenses. The gatehouse also has an entrance into the dungeon below.

Building a Better Monster

In the world of Erimia, monsters and the forces of Chaos are personifications and physical manifestations of sin. This is in keeping with the metaphor of the campaign where adventurers are akin to Christian monastics venturing out into the wilderness in order to fight the devil and his minions where they live. This raises the question, what is sin?

At its most basic meaning, sin means missing the mark. In context of humanity's relationship with God, it means our failure to keep on target with the "likeness" of the image and likeness of God within us. Our life in God is a process by which we become more like Him. God has revealed His image to us primarily in two ways: the Law and the person of Jesus Christ. Both of these reveal God to be a relational being. Note how Christ summarizes the Law:

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind . . .You shall love your neighbor as yourself" (Matt. 22:37,39).

The image and likeness of God within humanity revolves around our relationship with both God and our fellow human beings (and, in turn, all of creation). Note that in Genesis, the devil tries to destroy both of these relationships: first through the eating of the fruit (humanity's relationship with God), and then through the murder of Abel by his brother Cain (humanity's relationship with his fellow human being). Thus, sin can be understood as anything that harms or destroys these relationships. For example, let us examine some of what have become known as the cardinal sins:

Gluttony — I wastefully consume at the expense of those who hunger, harming not only my relationship with my fellow human being, but with the earth that provides my food, and my God who gives me all of these things as gifts.
Sloth—I fail to love anything enough to give my all. This harms relationships with everybody — nothing, neither God nor anything in creation, is worth my time and effort.
Lust—I objectify my fellow human being, subjecting them to my own selfish need for pleasure. I disregard both their needs, and the image of God within them.

From the perspective of sin, there is no such thing as a victimless crime (as anyone who has a relative that is an alcoholic or addict can tell you).

In designing Erimian monsters as personifications and physical manifestations of sin, I try to give them abilities, tactics and/or powers that actively try to destroy relationships. This destruction then leads to an easier target to kill. As adventurers continue to encounter these monsters, they must work together to create strategies to prevent the destruction of these relationships in order to more effectively overcome the monsters and the sins they personify.

With this in mind, I give you the Xeraphi:

Xeraphi
For as pressing milk produces curds, and pressing the nose produces blood, so pressing anger produces strife. — Proverbs 30:33
Armor Class: 6 [13]
Hit Dice: 1d6
Attacks: 1 weapon (1d6)
Saving Throw: 16
Special: Poison, Fury Scent
Move: 9
Morale: 8
Challenge Level/XP: 1/15 XP

Xeraphi are small, aggressive cousins of the gnolls. Their size and lower hit dice are deceptive — Xeraphi can be extremely dangerous. Their skin excretes a liquid that gives off a scent that sends other creatures into a blind fury. Non-xeraphi with an Int less than 17 must save vs. spell or go berserk, attacking friend and foe for 10 rounds. Only one save is necessary per encounter. In addition, this liquid can be boiled down into a sticky substance the Xeraphi put onto their weapons. Any successful strike by a Xeraphi requires their target to save v. poison or take an additional d6 damage. This poison may be taken from the pelts of the Xeraphi. Each corpse will produce 1d3 doses. However, anyone using this poison will also produce the fury inducing scent that requires every new encounter to save v spells or go berserk.

Xeraphi travel in packs. These packs are generally lead by female necromancers and Xeraphi are very comfortable around the undead — they are one of the few non-Xeraphi that are immune to their scent. When a pack is encountered, it usually includes undead, especially skeletons and zombies.

(I have used the S&W stat block with the addition of Morale because of its simplicity and flexibility)

Map of Gate

Here is a map and description of Gate for the Erimia Campaign. This small community of those soldiers (mostly Replicants) who guard and maintain the small gate of the city and those merchants that sell the soldiers their wares serves as the launching point for adventurers into the wilderness.

1. Gate to the City.
Made of solid iron, it is lifted using a winch operated from the towers on either side of the gate.
2. Towers.
These are manned 24 hours a day. There will always be a minimum of two soldiers in each tower. In times of high alert, this number will be increased to as many as five.
3. Century HQ.
The military of Ipolis is organized into units of 100 soldiers, each known as a Century. The unit stationed in Gate has the sole duty of guarding the gate to the city. Known by various names, such as the Flaming Swords, the Cherubic Century, and the 100 Angels, their unit symbol is a flaming sword (Genesis 4:24). Every soldier in the Century must be celibate. The priorities of the unit do not allow for a proper raising of a family. Thus, when a soldier wishes to marry, he must transfer to a different unit or retire. This gives Gate (especially under the spiritual leadership of Fr. Gerasimos) a very monastic feel. NPCs in Gate will have a love/hate attitude towards adventurers. They will greatly admire and respect anyone who goes out to fight Chaos on its own turf. However, they will be wary of them at the same time — adventurers are constantly scrutinized for when (not if) they fall under the influence of the Chaos they fight.
4. General Store/Supply Depot.
Burok, the Signifier of the Flaming Swords, comes from a merchant family led by his elder brother. They are going through a difficult time, economically, and is being pressured to use his position to bring some cash flow to the family. He's honest when he can, but is not above the occasional cheat.
Signifier Burok Thief Lvl 4 Lawful S10 I10 W6 D13 C11 Ch9 HP 17
5. Herbalist.
The one citizen of Gate that ventures outside the city walls on a semi-regular basis is the Herbalist Eamon. An elf and a former soldier, he is interested to see if he can use the strange plants in the wilderness to do good. He has a wide selection of potions and herbal treatments for all kinds of ailments.
Eamon Elf Lvl 7 Lawful S10 I17 W9 D13 C7 Ch9 HP 32
5a. Magic-User's Home.
6. Officer's Quarters.
The Flaming Swords are commanded by the Centurion Blaise. He is a confident man, obsessed with history and his place in it. His second in command, the Optio Zilas, is a staunch conservative who uses all the influence he can to maintain the status-quo.
Centurion Blaise Replicant Lvl 9 Lawful S15 I11 W13 D11 C11 Ch13 HP 46 Special: Epidermal Photosynthesis, Thermal Vision, Mind Thrust
Optio Zilas Fighter Lvl 5 Lawful S13 I10 W7 D11 C13 Ch9 HP 22
7. Smithy.
The blacksmith of Gate is a Dwarf named Columba. He is a former soldier whose unit went on regular patrols outside the city. He got caught in a river of chaos energy and no longer trusts himself go venture out of the city. He does what he can to fight Chaos by equipping soldiers and adventurers with the armor and weapons they need to carry on the fight. If a relationship is cultivated, adventurers will find a staunch ally in Columba.
Columba Dwarf Lvl 3 Lawful S16 I15 W11 D9 C15 Ch6 HP 25 Special: Pain Insensitivity
7a. Blacksmith's Home.
8. Chapel of the Taxiarchai.
Dedicated to the Archangels, this is where the people of Gate come to pray. Fr. Gerasimos maintains a monastic schedule, and there are services everyday throughout the day.
8a. Storage.
This is used to store the various items used in the chapel: books, chalices, utensils, vestments, wine, bread, etc. It is locked at all times. Fr. Gerasimos has the only key.
9. Priest's Home.
Fr. Gerasimos is a quiet and humble man who leads by example. He is more often than not in the Chapel praying than he is at home.
Fr. Gerasimos Cleric Lvl 4 Lawful S14 I10 W14 D11 C16 Ch10 HP 28
10. Flaming Sword.
The one place where Fr. Gerasimos has yet to have any influence. This serves both as a mess hall and as a tavern where soldiers let off steam.
10a. Kitchen.
The cook of the Flaming Sword, Wolfram aka "Cookie," is a veteran fighter who happens to be better in the kitchen than on the wall. Although he enjoys his work, Cookie prefers the life of a soldier and is the first to a fight, wielding whatever is at hand as a weapon.
Wolfram aka "Cookie" Fighter Lvl 4 Lawful S17 I11 W10 D14 C7 Ch9 HP 20 Special: Cookie is extremely skilled at using impromptu weapons, such as an iron skillet. He receives a +1 to hit whenever using such a weapon.
11. Statue of the Cherubic Guardian.
Here stands a 30 foot tall image of a Cherubim — a multi-eyed, awe-inspiring warrior angel wielding a flaming sword. It is carved granite and there is an extreme amount of wear on the right foot of the angel, where soldiers seeking blessings have worn down the detail on the foot by touching it for several hundred years. The statue radiates an aura of holiness. Any Lawful creature within a 20 foot radius receives a bonus of 1 on every die roll. Any Chaotic creature receives a penalty of 1 on every die roll. In addition, anyone who does a prayer asking for help or strength from the angels, Christ, or God and touches the statue receives the effects of a Bless spell for the next 24 hours.
12. Barracks.
The Tesserarius, Gabryl, has recently been promoted due to the death of a very popular officer. As a result, he has yet to earn the respect of his men, and is constantly trying to figure out ways to do so.
Tesserarius Gabryl Replicant Lvl 6 Lawful S16 I10 W10 D14 C13 Ch10 HP 40 Special: Spiny Growth, UV Vision, Increased Balance
13. The City Wall.
14. Outer Gate.
Since Ipolis has no trade with other cities, and a populace that has little or no reason to travel outside the walls of the city, the gate of the city (more of a door, really) serves only two purposes. Firstly, it gives minimal access to the outside world for those that do need to venture out (soldiers for routine patrols, mainly). Secondly, it serves as a trap for the invading forces of Chaos that periodically test the defenses of the city. The gate itself is iron and opens vertically using winches on the city wall. It is locked using two iron rods that mechanically slide into the gate from the city wall itself. The door is recessed into the city wall, allowing the defenders of the city to create a kill zone right in front of the gate. Indeed, the battlements above are equipped with hot oil, stones, crossbows and ballistas.
15. Trapped Stairs.
If invaders get through the gate, they must ascend a set of stairs made of slick, rounded stone. On either side of the stairs are 30 ft. deep, spiked pits. The stairs are also trapped — a lever on the city wall above triggers the upper section of the stairs to go flat and create a slide, dooming invaders to a ride into the spiked pits below. Invaders must endure all of this while defenders pelt them from above on the city walls.
16. Trapped Tunnel.
For those invaders that survive the gate and the stairs, this tunnel, coated with a thick layer of dark glass, awaits. In the ceiling there are hundreds of holes, and the floor slopes down from the edges to form an oblong bowl. On the city wall above the tunnel are three levers. Two control the locks on the iron doors at either end of the tunnel and the other releases acid through the holes in the ceiling of the tunnel. Not only will invaders be showered with acid, but the acid pools in the bowl-shaped floor, which becomes slick when wet. Thus, even when the defenders run out of acid to shower invaders from above, defenders must wade through an acid pool and risk losing their footing on the glass floor.
17. St. Aiden's Alley.
Named after a soldier who single-handedly held off a beast of Chaos in this very place until reinforcements could arrive to kill the creature. Mosaics depicting this epic battle line the walls. The alley is a final kill zone for any invaders that manage to get past the trapped stairs and tunnel. It also serves as a staging point for units who periodically patrol beyond the city walls.

Map of Erimia

This is a map of Erimia. I have not named many of the landmarks on purpose. For one, the citizens of Ipolis have no need to name anything, because they very rarely, if ever, venture outside the city walls. Secondly, I really like the process of players interacting with a world. When that creative process comes up with names, the world jumps off the page and begins to live in a way that I never could have made it by naming everything.

I have marked three things on the map, because they are a part of the daily lives of those who live in Ipolis:

Hex 0808: The city of Ipolis (which literally means "the City") is a giant walled metropolis and a haven from the Chaos that rules the wilderness around it. With the powerful magics available to it from the energy node that lies at the center of the city, Ipolis is virtually self-sustaining. It has no trade with other cities — even if it knew of other cities, it has no real need. The only outside contact the citizens have is through the small community of Gate — those soldiers (mostly Replicants) who guard and maintain the small gate of the city and those merchants that sell the soldiers their wares.

Hex 0805: Pyros Mountain (meaning "Fire") looms large in the minds of the citizens of Ipolis. It is called Pyros Mountain because of the mysterious glow it gives off at night, which can be seen for miles. Thought to be the source of many of the strange monsters that occasionally test the defenses of the city, it is at the center of every nightmarish imagining of the people of Ipolis. Indeed, the glow is the result of a fragment of a chaos weapon that fell from the sky during the Great Cataclysm and buried itself deep within the bowels of the earth.

Hex 0705: Here are the ruins of a city that was ancient at the time of the Great Cataclysm. Called Aripia (or "Ruins") it is carved out of the rock of antediluvian river beds and stands between Ipolis and Pyros Mountain. Some of its spires can be seen from the city walls. In the past, adventurous souls have wandered out to see these great carvings. Those that returned told tales of their wonder and hinted at untold wealth that might be buried beneath. When tales are told of the Golden Age before the Great Cataclysm, they often tell of the wonders of this city that now lies in ruin.

Adventuring with Antony the Great

Thus tightening his hold upon himself, Antony departed to the tombs, which happened to be at a distance from the village; and having bid one of his acquaintances to bring him bread at intervals of many days, he entered one of the tombs, and the other having shut the door on him, he remained within alone. And when the enemy could not endure it . . . coming one night with a multitude of demons, he so cut him with stripes that he lay on the ground speechless from the excessive pain. For he affirmed that the torture had been so excessive that no blows inflicted by man could ever have caused him such torment . . . The next day his acquaintance came bringing him the loaves. And having opened the door and seeing him lying on the ground as though dead, he lifted him up and carried him to the church in the village, and laid him upon the ground. And many of his kinsfolk and the villagers sat around Antony as round a corpse. But about midnight he came to himself and arose, and when be saw them all asleep and his comrade alone watching, he motioned with his head for him to approach, and asked him to carry him again to the tombs without waking anybody.

Whenever I see this passage, I feel like I am reading a quote from some pulp story written at the beginning of the 20th century. Its descent into the tombs that lie outside a village on the edge of the wilderness and its depiction of combat against demons never fails to inspires me. It makes the inner role-player in me want to take out my OD&D books, roll up a character, hire some henchmen and go exploring underground in search of the unknown.

I am not the only one that the story of Antony as inspired. In fact, it inspired an entire generation. However, that generation lived 1700 years ago and included the likes of St. Augustine of Hippo. This account of delving inside a tomb in order to take on demons in mortal combat is the Life of St. Antony by St. Athanasius the Great. It was read all over the Christian world and was translated from its original Greek into several languages, including the Latin that Augustine read. It sparked an explosion of monastic activity in the 4th century that is still with us today. Interestingly, the work is timeless and I've seen it inspire those of the 21st century just as much as it did those in the 4th.

I wanted to share this excerpt with you to demonstrate how easily the idea of the monk going into the wilderness to combat demons translates to D&D. Anthony is engaged in an activity that many dungeon delving D&D parties have done over the years. It is why I choose the monastic in the desert as a metaphor for a D&D campaign. It is a classic struggle between the forces of Chaos and the forces of Law. It also demonstrates that the sandbox campaign can work beautifully in the context of a Christian or monotheistic backdrop.

The Sting of Death

Recently, I was flipping through Moldvay's Basic D&D and was stunned at how many creatures were listed in the monster section that, by today's standards, are way beyond the ability of the 1st-3rd level scope of the book. In fact, the average hit dice of monsters listed is 3+1. Therefore, there is an underlying assumption that low level characters are going to be outclassed and over their heads. Thus, death will occur unless the players (not characters) figure out a way to survive long enough to advance a few levels. In other words, your character's status as a hero is earned, not assumed, and marked by your ability as a player, not something inherent to the character through the game system.

Personally, I wouldn't have it any other way. What value is getting a character to higher levels when every encounter is tailored toward your character's abilities and his survival is assumed? Over the years I've played in a lot of games and I've seen and experienced a lot of character death. Just surviving was thrilling, especially when it came to encounters that our characters had no business being in. It is those encounters I remember most fondly. For example:

In an outdoor campaign, where the party represented a scout troop of a mercenary army on the front line of enemy occupied territory, our party would constantly be confronted with monsters far beyond our ability to fight. However, the goal was not to kick butt and take names. The goal was to survive long enough to get the information back to HQ. Every now and then, however, we had to fight. The worst of these was when the party was third or fourth level and not one of us had a magic weapon. A young maiden was being sacrificed and one of the primary participants was a demon that could not be damaged by normal weapons. We quickly huddled, came up with a plan, executed said plan and got away with the girl. Because death was a real part of the game, all of us knew that when we got away with the girl, we really got away — it was our skill as players that succeeded and not the benevolence of a kind GM.

In D&D, death gives value because it makes everything else a victory. Yet, every attempt to fix the problems of 3.5 that I have come across lists 1st level character vulnerability as an issue. This trend began with the Dark Sun setting, where beginning characters were bumped up to 3rd level because the world was "just too dangerous."

Do we fear death so much? In my lifetime, I have seen our culture's focus on youth become an obsession. The retirement home industry is on the upswing as the baby boomers age and we yearn to segregate them from the rest of society so that we aren't continually reminded of our own mortality.

In contrast, Christians get to quote St. Paul from 1 Corinthians 15:55, "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" Death has been trampled down by Christ on the cross. We do not fear death. Our saints are celebrated on the day they die. Death is transformative, for both those who die and those who remain. Death is an adventure.

In a strange way, older versions of D&D express this attitude toward death — they are comfortable with death. We remember the ways our characters die — both glorious and embarrassing. Adventures can spring up out of character death and entire campaigns can take on new scopes. I remember entire adventures taking place as we tried to get the materials necessary to resurrect or reincarnate fallen characters. I remember a Half-Elf that got reincarnated as a Hobgoblin — a wonderful opportunity for role-playing and soul searching.

Death has power only if you give it power.

Making B2 Green

Recently, I ran across three things that have inspired me to recycle:

1) James C. Boney's wonderfully evocative concept for Advanced Adventures #6
2) Allan T. Grohe Jr's piece on one-way doors and variable stairs in Knockspell #1
3) Philotomy's article on the megadundeon as the mythic underworld

Having encountered these three in quick succession and coming to the realization that I have in my possession more published worlds for D&D than I will ever be able to use in my lifetime, I had a bit of a brainstorm that I'd like to share:

I came up with an interesting twist on the classic dungeon crawl. Take the classic B2 Keep on the Borderlands and re-imagine the Caves of Chaos as a portal to multiple worlds. To start off with, take three or four of your favorite exotic D&D settings that have been collecting dust, because you'll never get around to using them. Maztica, for example. For each setting, populate the Caves of Chaos with setting appropriate monsters.

The characters start off in your standard D&D world, such and the Known Realms. They go off to explore the standard version of the Caves of Chaos. Little do they know that the caverns simultaneously exist in parallel on several worlds. At regular intervals, these parallel versions of the caverns switch places and anyone who is inside the caverns is transported to a different world. Thus, as the party emerges from their first successful foray into the caverns, they find themselves in a completely different world. When they return to the caverns, in hopes of returning home, they might find the caverns occupied by a completely different set of creatures. This can be used for as many worlds as the players have patience for.

Thus, with very little effort, one might be able to actually get some use out of those settings which, while appealing enough to be on the bookshelf, never were going to be used for an extensive campaign. And that one map from B2 can be an unexpected surprise every time a party dares to venture in to try and go home.

Alignments

I have always been of two minds about alignment. On one hand, I have found the AD&D system of LG, LN, LE, CG, CN,CE and N to be far too complex and restrictive at the same time. Even James' excellent house rule on alignments, which I find far more insightful and useful than the AD&D system, is a tad bit too restrictive. Sure, we have a lot of choice that covers several world-views, but that choice eliminates subtleties that exist in reality and in fiction.

I have also noted that the characters that I have played over the years often become through play. Although I conceive of a starting point and what I think is a personality and belief system for a character, these things are very rarely, if ever, what the character becomes through interaction with other players and the game world. Thus, on paper, my character may be Chaotic Neutral, but through play is very keen on and busy stamping out evil of every stripe. By the time the party has accidentally released a being of pure chaos into the world (an event a Chaotic Neutral character might have actually seen as a goal) my character is actually extremely uncomfortable with the idea and seeks to repair the damage done through his actions. What good has putting "Chaotic Neutral" on my character sheet done anyone?

On the other hand, I do believe there is a need for codes of behavior. Given classes like the Assassin, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, and Monk, there has to be a means of determining whether or not the character is behaving in a manner that qualifies them for their profession. An Assassin who won't kill isn't an Assassin at all, and therefore could not continue to progress in skill as an Assassin.

Additionally, within Christianity, there is a very clear dichotomy between God and those who direct their lives and the world around them toward Him versus the Demonic and those who either actively work against God or passively turn their back to Him. As I've noted before, Schmemann leaves no room for neutrality in the Christian world view.

For gaming purposes, where does this leave me? I have come to appreciate the flexibility of the Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic alignment system. Lawful can encompass all those who are Godly, those who would fight on the city wall in order to save civilization from destruction at the hands of demonic minions, and/or those who desire to live an orderly life. Chaotic represents the demonic, and those forces that would destroy civilization in any form. Neutrality, to me, is a bit of a cop-out. The idea of Balance in any fashion is really a Lawful world-view. Thus Neutrality really means apathy.

However, in practice, this system means that all characters are going to be Lawful. No adventurer would be apathetic and thus Neutral, and no adventurer would be Chaotic because then they would be siding with the monsters, and personally I would never allow it (primarily because it is never fun to have that kind of destructive behavior in a group).

This leaves us with the conundrum of what to do with the Assassin, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, and Monk classes. For this I find that there does need to be some kind of code of conduct set up from the very beginning by the Referee. This code needn't (nor really should be) all-encompassing, but does need to be restrictive. If you cannot or will not behave in some basic fashion, you cannot be these classes. In addition, I would encourage players to come up with an ethos through play. For example, within the martial arts world there are several styles and philosophies behind those styles. A practitioner of Karate thinks differently than a practitioner of Tai Chi. By the time the character has reach 2nd or 3rd level, I would expect a player to have settled into a personality and a set of behaviors that represent an ethos above and beyond their code of behavior. These in combination would then represent a base line for determining whether or not the player has acted counter to his code of behavior and thus lose the benefits of the class. This allows a creative cooperation between the referee and the player that will at the same time be challenging and entertaining.

I do believe that having such codes of behavior are integral to the entertainment value of a game. One of the most fun I have ever had playing a character was during a d6 Star Wars game. I played a Fallen Jedi who at the beginning of the campaign was a drunk and an alcoholic. The other players actually asked be to play another character because this one was too disruptive. I assured them that I had no intention of being a drunk forever, and by the time the campaign came to a close, my character was the de-facto party leader and had retired from the game to become the Master of two of the other PCs who wished to become Jedi. This evolution could not have been possible without the Jedi code of behavior.

In the end, I suggest to do what is fun. For me, having a restrictive code of honor that I must live up to is challenging, entertaining, and ultimately very rewarding.

Planar Cosmology of D&D Part III

The Fall

The Greek word for Devil is "diabolos," which means “slanderer” or even more literally, “the one who divides.” The Fall is division. When humanity turned its back on God and tried to be divine without God by partaking of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, humanity divided itself from God. Since humanity was given the special role to keep the garden and all of creation for God, humanity took all of creation with it in the Fall. Creation, in the person of Adam (which literally means “humanity”), tried to exist without God. Since creation came from nothing (and will, by nature, return to nothing), death, decay, destruction and sin all came to rule over everything. As a sign of this, Cain murdered his brother Abel — humanity is even divided against itself.

Unity in Diversity

The Planar Cosmology of D&D, especially that depicted in the Planescape setting, simulates fallen creation extremely well. All of creation is divided against itself, warring over philosophical absolutes, where even those who profess to be Good not only war against others who claim to be Good, but will ally themselves with those who are Evil to battle a different variation of Good. Power is all consuming, where beings from every Plane scramble to become gods, without God. In a world where magic exists, this illusion of divinity without God becomes even more powerful and difficult to see through. Belief has the power to shape the multiverse, and everyone strives to bring some kind of unity through belief — a desperate attempt to be God without God. Of course, all such attempts will fail and only bring about more death, destruction and sin. The only being able to save, to bring true unity in the vast diversity of the multiverse is God. This unity is made manifest in the person of Jesus Christ, where all of humanity, in its infinite diversity can become one. This radical equality happens not by eradicating diversity, but through that diversity. Each individual brings to the Church — the Body of Christ — her own unique and unrepeatable person, talents and skills. Thus, with the vast diversity of the D&D multiverse, the Church represents the one truly divine means of unification, despite the radical differences that exist across the planes.