Evil Part 2: Humanity & Religion

In response to my post on Evil, Rob Conley made this comment about his own creative process for putting together his campaign:

My whole system came about because I wanted true evil, rejection of creation, but I wanted shades of gray in religion. In my reading I know that "evil" religion don't exist in reality.

This discussion deserves an entire post, because Rob's comment raises a couple of very important questions: Where does evil come from? Can a religion be evil? And a not so important question: How is it possible to create a cosmology for a RPG world that has shades of gray with resorting to some kind of paganism/polytheism?

Let me start with the source of evil:

And the Lord God commanded the man, "You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die." — Genesis 2:16-17

When looking at these verses, we must remember the definition of good and evil — God is good; evil is the absence of good/God. Thus, by eating of the fruit, Adam and Eve reject God because to know evil is to know a world without God. They tried to become like God without God.

Creation was brought forth by God from nothing:

I beseech thee, my son, look upon the heaven and the earth, and all that is therein, and consider that God made them of things that were not; and so was mankind made likewise — 2 Macabees 7:28

Thus, when Adam and Eve chose to turn away from God and know a world without God, they chose nothingness — their choice introduced death into creation. As priests and caretakers of God's creation, they dragged all of creation with them towards the nothingness that everything came from. Sans God, it is to nothing that we shall all return. The word adam means humanity. So, the source of sin and evil in the world is us.

The tragic flaw of the pagan world-view is that it abdicates human responsibility for virtually every aspect of life. War doesn't exist because Ares invented it. War is our creation. We are responsible for it. We are the source of evil through our separation from God.

Insofar as a religion encourages or requires behavior that separates humanity from God, it can be evil (any way you slice it, human sacrifice isn't good). However, every religion can have shades of truth — it can correctly understand an aspect of God, but fail to accept the fullness of who God is. The problem is, there are very real consequences that come with these failures.

In order to get shades of grey into the religion of an RPG world, one really doesn't have to look much further than a dogmatic history of Christianity. For purposes of illustration and inspiration, let me walk through some heresies from people who understood themselves to be Christian, and the consequences of their belief:

• Gnosticism: There are several variations on a theme, but Gnosticism basically boils down to a rejection of matter as the creation of an evil demi-urge (i.e. the OT God). Salvation comes through the knowledge of the true God, which is the light/soul trapped inside a fleshly prison. As a consequence, things like murder, hedonism, extreme asceticism, and abuse are all acceptable because all matter and flesh are evil. What we do with it has no bearing on our salvation; only knowledge does. In terms of D&D, Gnosticism is nicely expressed in the explanation of Chaotic Neutral offered by the 1st ed DM's Guide.
• Arianism: Arius and his adherents insisted that Christ was a creature — he was part of creation and did not share in the Father's essence. This reduces Christian eschatology (the experience of the Kingdom of Heaven) and ontology (the nature of being) to a moral/ethical system (and one that is impossible to live up to). With no eschatological or ontological justification, this moral/ethical code is doomed to fail, since everyone sins. As such, the only way to justify and enforce this moral/ethical code is through coercion.
• Nestorianism: Nestorius and his ilk held that the human and divine natures of Christ were separate persons conjoined in the man Jesus of Nazareth. Such a reality justifies a compartmentalization of human activity. Our religious lives can be separate from our daily lives. Thus, a man can justify being a pious and loving husband and father at home at the same time he is a torturer and killer at work without any conflict between these two aspects of his life.
• Monophysitism: This heresy held that the human nature of Jesus was absorbed into the divine nature of Christ, leaving Him with one nature. Overemphasizing the divine nature of Christ devalues human nature, and thus humanity. When humanity gets devalued, it becomes easy to justify things like slavery, racism, genocide, etc. because the definition of what it means to be human can be narrowed to fit whatever category you need. Thus, Group A is human and Group B is not because they don't have what Group A does. Enslaving, discriminating against, and even killing Group B is justifiable because they are less than human.

Thus, without ever having to resort to a pagan cosmology, there are plenty of ways we humans have figured out to impose shades of grey onto Christianity by rejecting certain aspects of God.

I have been accused by players of being the most frightening Referee they've ever played with. The reason being that I apply my understanding of evil to my worlds. I insist on a clear dichotomy between Law and Chaos, which lends itself very well to the illusion that everything is black and white. In reality, evil corrupts everything and the most terrifying monsters in D&D are human. Yes, my monsters are physical manifestations of sin, but the true evil in my worlds originates with people, not monsters. As such, dealing with the folks back home can sometimes be more dangerous than delving in a dungeon. Survival rests upon my players' ability to recognize sin for what it is. Monsters, as personifications of sin, help us to do exactly that.

Evil

Let love be genuine; abhor what is evil, hold fast to what is good — Romans 12:9

The other day, James reflected on Bram Stoker's Dracula. He observed:

I can't help but feel disappointment at the way the archetype of the vampire has been so watered-down and indeed neutered of the power it packed in Stoker's day. I think there's still a lot of punch left in vampires but most of that punch comes from contemplating their status as thralls of Hell (whether literally or metaphorically) rather than as forever-young demigods.

In the discussion that followed, I made this particular comment:

Rather than a symbol of our own alienation, our recent love affair with vampires, serial killers and even zombies is a symptom of our own inability to distinguish good from evil.

Based on the comments that followed, I think it useful to actually look at what the word evil means, especially from a scriptural point of view.

There are a couple of ways to go about defining evil. The first is to look at the words in Scripture that mean "evil." In Greek they are poniros and kakos. Poniros derives from the Greek word for "pain" and has been used as a title for the devil — "the Evil One." In fact, this is the word used in the last line of the Lord's Prayer and can be and has been translated as both "evil" and "the Evil One." Kakos simply means "bad" and is less significant to the Scriptural understanding of evil than the words adikia (wrong-doing, injustice) and amartia (sin).

Note that both adikia and amartia have the prefix of "a," indicating an absence of something — adikia meaning an absence of righteousness or justice and amartia meaning missing the mark. This suggests that an apophatic approach — looking at what evil is not — might actually be more useful than looking at poniros and kakos themselves.

• Good and upright is the Lord — Psalm 25:8
• O taste and see tat the Lord is good — Psalm 34:8
• Give thanks to Him; praise His name; for the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting — Psalm 100:4-5
• Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, For his mercy endures forever — Psalm 106:1; 107:1; 118:1, 29; 136:1
• Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good — 135:3

I quote all these statements in context of the name of God revealed to Moses from the burning bush (Exodus 3:14). In English, the name of God is often rendered I AM. In Greek it is the One Who Is. In other words, the very name of God is a sentence begging for a predicate. Throughout Scripture, the titles of God are those predicates: Truth, Righteousness, Longsuffering, Love, Life, Good, etc.

Thus, God is Good. As such,

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth — James 1:17-18

All that is good in the world comes from God because God is Good.

Evil, then, when understood apophatically as an absence of good, is actually the absence of God. Sin is that which separates us from God — we miss the mark, who is God. Further, God made us in His image and likeness. When we sin against another human being, it is a failure to see and acknowledge the image and likeness of God within that other person. Murder, for example, is the attempt to eradicate the image and likeness.

Our secular society has done its best to remove God from all aspects of life. In the absence of all that is good — God — how can we expect to be able to determine what is good or evil? Yet, human beings are wired for God and we yearn for Him and for His eternity. Without Him, this yearning produces watered-down bloodsucking eternally young demi-gods that we fail to see as monsters. For another take on this, see Fr. Barron's commentrary on vampires.

In terms of role playing, this is why I prefer understanding monsters as physical manifestations of sin and the dungeon as part of the mythical underworld. Metaphorically, it mirrors the monastic's struggle against demons in the wilderness. XP for gold spent represents characters improving themselves for their next battle against demons and sins. Conquering land in the wilderness to build a stronghold represents the process of sanctifying part of the fallen world, of winning it back from the devil and his angels. Failure to recognize a monster as a monster becomes a failure to recognize sin. A failure to recognize sin is a failure to recognize not only how far off the mark we are, but a failure to recognize the image and likeness of God within ourselves.

Children of the Watchers

Recently, while doing some research, I ran across a reference to the "Children of the Watchers." It is a phrase that pops up in some of the Apocrypha found in the Dead Sea Scrolls. The origin of the phrase lies in the word "Nephilim" in Genesis and and the word "Watcher" in Daniel.

The Nephilim were on the earth in those days — and also afterward — when the sons of God went in to the daughters of humans, who bore children to them. These were the heroes that were of old, warriors of renown. — Genesis 6:4

This is a difficult passage to translate and to understand. Are the Nephilim the children of the sons of God — angels — and women, or are they something else altogether? In context, the author is giving a litany of examples of how sinful creation has become prior to God's decision to tell Noah that He's going to flood the earth. To boot, Nephilim is not easily translated (as it is simply transliterated in the English); however, we do get a glimpse of what it might mean from the Jews of Alexandria some 300 years before Christ. The translation of the OT into Greek that they produced (called the Septuagint or LXX) translates the word Nephilim as "giants." We see a reference to giants again in the Wisdom of Solomon:

For even in the beginning, when arrogant giants were perishing, the hope of the world took refuge on a raft, and guided by your hand left to the world the seed of a new generation. — Wisdom of Solomon 14:6

Thus, this author has interpreted Genesis 6:4 to indicate that the Nephilim were monsters. In Baruch, we see giants again:

O Israel, how great is the house of God, how vast the territory that he possesses! It is great and has no bounds; it is high and immeasurable. The giants were born there, who were famous of old, great in stature, expert in war. — Baruch 3:24-26

This time the author understands giants to be the heroes of old, born of the sons of God and women.

Take all three together, and the Nephilim of Genesis 6:4 are the monstrous offspring of some angels and women.

The term "Watcher" is used in the OT exclusively in Daniel:

The sentence is rendered by decree of the watchers, the decision is given by order of the holy ones, in order that all who live may know that the Most High is sovereign over the kingdom of mortals; he gives it to whom he will and sets over it the lowliest of human beings.' — Daniel 4:17

This comes from a dream of Nebuchadnezzer that Daniel is asked to interpret. The "watchers" are an order of angels. From this particular passage, it seems that their task was to judge sin. The term "watcher" also is found in such Apocryphal works as the Book of Jubilees and the Book of Enoch. There seems to be an understanding that watchers are fallen angels. With the use of the term "Children of the Watchers" the Nephilim of Genesis 6:4 are interpreted to be the offspring of an order of fallen angels called the Watchers when they "went in to the daughters of humans."

This got my creative juices flowing, and evokes in me the image of some kind of secret society that acts as a group of depraved vigilantes meeting out their twisted version of justice through assassination. They are all descendants of Nephilim and get their name from their demonic progenitors. Since the Children of the Watchers are monsters, they can be any intelligent creature. Their ancestry and their vision of justice is what unites them. In addition to whatever powers and abilities they ordinarily have, Children of the Watchers gain all of the following abilities:

1) They surprise on a 1-4 and can only be surprised on a 1.
2) Any successful attack either from surprise or from the rear does an additional 1d6 damage for every 2HD the creature has.
3) They leave no tracks.

Regardless of their form, Children of the Watchers are all marked with the seal of their order:

Another Monster and a New Stat Block

I always find it interesting how important actual play is to understanding a game, and how to judge its design, and how its presentation. For example, as much as I love 3.5 on paper, I don't enjoy playing it.

In this light, I have decided to change the stat block I use when creating monsters. In play, the guys that I sit at the table with like to explore the wilderness, hunt down lairs and loot them. As such, I have been highly dependent upon random encounters and have found the follow items from a monster stat block to be essential:

• Number Appearing — This gives me a baseline for determining the number of creatures encountered (and how many to expect inside a lair).
• % in Lair — this helps determine whether or not the party has stumbled upon the monsters in or out of their home.
• Morale — since this comes into play so much, especially with larger encounters in the wilderness, I need this stat at my finger tips.
• Hoard Class — When that lair is actually found, I need to know what kind of treasure is in it.
• XP — If I know exactly how much XP each monster is worth, I can easily keep a running tally.

I have also found that the following items unnecessarily clutter up the stat block:

• AAC — though I have a group of guys that discovered our hobby through 3.5, they have adjusted very smoothly to AC and using THAC0.
• Challenge Level — Frankly, I've never used this. The players know quite well that I don't dumb down or weaken the monsters in places they have no business being. Characters have been killed for not running away when they should have. The game is about choices. When I present to them a monster, it is what it is. The characters are then free to try their luck and skill or to run away and then face the consequences of their choice.

Keeping these things in mind for my home-brew monsters, I present the Flacara:

Flacara

[Those] Who said, "Let us inherit the holy place of God for ourselves."
O my God, turn them like a wheel,
Like straw before the face of the wind,
Like fire that burns through a thicket,
Like a flame that sets mountains on fire;
Thus You shall pursue them with Your storm,
And You shall trouble them in your wrath.
—Psalm 83:13-16

Number Appearing: 2d4
% in Lair: 25%
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 3
Move: 9
Hit Dice: 2+1
Attacks: 1 weapon (1d6+1) + Flame Damage (1d6)
Special: Flame Damage

Save: F3
Morale: 9
Hoard Class: XIV
XP: 59

These vile creatures are about the size and stature of a Dwarf. Their flesh is cracked, blackened, and emaciated. As though burning from within, flames burst through the cracks and orifices all over their bodies. A Flacara's face is a mask of pain, something they take delight in inflicting on others. Every round spent in melee with a Flacara, a character must make a save vs. breath or take 1d6 fire damage. When a Flacara is using metal weapons or is fighting unarmed, any successful hit will generate an additional 1d6 flame damage unless a save v. breath is successful. They are immune to fire and cold attacks will actually add hit points. Flacara value gems over all other treasure.

Druids as Monsters

In an interesting piece of news most likely to be ignored by much of the American media, His Eminence Bartholomew, Patriarch of Constantinople is arriving today in New Orleans to be the key note speaker at the Religion, Science and the Environment Symposium held there through October 25. Bartholomew is known as the Green Patriarch and has been a champion for environmentalism for many years. I bring this up, because his environmentalism is not born of a political point of view, but rather from solid Christian theology.

In the 8th and 9th centuries, the Eastern Church went through the trauma of Iconoclasm — which literally means the breaking of the icons. At issue was the place of icons — the depiction of Christ and His saints — in worship and in the Church. The Iconoclasts equated their use with idolatry. The Seventh Ecumencial Council convened in the year 787 at Nicea specifically to defend icons and their use from a theological point of view. This view eventually won the day and icons are used by Orthodox Christians in worship to this day; however, underlying the whole controversy was humanity's relationship with nature and the place of nature in the Kingdom of Heaven.

The Iconoclasts had a difficult time with the depiction of Christ and His saints because they saw the act of making an icon to be an insult — that to use mere matter to depict our Saviour and the Holy people of God was to denigrate them. This argument finally runs counter to and calls into question the Incarnation of Christ — God Himself took on our humanity (became "mere" matter) for our salvation. It also fails to understand our place in creation and our relationship to creation. During the Seventh Ecumenical Council, St. Leontios of Cyprus states:

Through heaven and earth and sea, through wood and stone, through all creation visible and invisible, I offer veneration to the Creator and Master and Maker of all things. For the creation does not venerate the Maker directly and by itself, but it is through me that the heavens declare the glory of God, through me the moon worships God, through me the stars glorify Him, through me the waters and showers of rain, the dews and all creation, venerate God and give Him glory.

This sacramental view of our relationship can be seen in 1Peter 2:9:

You are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of the darkness into His marvelous light.

In other words, our stewardship of nature — and the proper orientation of environmentalism — is centered on God. Through us — our prayers, our sacramental life and our "reduction of our carbon footprint" — nature is lifted up to God and participates in the eternity of the Kingdom of Heaven. In a very real sense, the proper platform from which to understand environmentalism is Christianity.

Thus, from this perspective, I believe that the LBBs got it right when they listed the Druid as a monster. As a defender of nature, the Druid fails to unite humanity with nature. Instead, they choose nature over and against civilization. They have no qualms about murdering thousands if it means saving a fish.

In my own understanding of the Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic alignment rules, I like the illustration of the city being attacked by hoards of cthuloid monsters and their minions. If you are on the wall defending the city, you are Lawful. If you are trying to break down the gate, you are Chaotic. If you don't care either way, you are neutral. Using this illustration, Druids actually fall closer to Chaotic than they do Neutral. Civilization is the major threat to nature and must be opposed. In this sense, Rangers, as the class that learns the ways of the wilderness in order to protect civilization from the wilderness, are the natural foes of Druids, not their comrades in arms, as they are in later editions of D&D.

Ultimately, the Druid's defense of nature makes the same mistake the Iconoclasts did in reverse — nature and humanity are incompatible. The result is destructive — the Iconoclasts destroyed thousands of invaluable religious artifacts and killed those who defended them, and Druids are willing to murder and destroy in the name of nature. In contrast, the relationship of humanity to nature in Christian theology is creative. We are called to not only protect our environment, but to live with it and to transform it — lift it into the Kingdom of Heaven to the glory of God.

In contrast, Druids are frightening. In my own version of the Temple of Elemental Evil, Druids run the show. They are rightly called monsters, and in my own worlds and campaigns they remain so.

Lost Colonies Session 5

With the rescue of Fr. Taggert and the discovery of the mask and the albino tattooed raiders, the party sent correspondence to contacts in the city. Thus far, not much information has been garnered save for a rumor that there is an alchemist in Redwraith that might be able to help Hamlin regain his lost strength. As a result of this bit of information, the party headed north to that town, rumored to have an ongoing undead problem. The focus of our session, however, had little to do with Redwraith because a wandering monster encounter hijacked most of the session.

As the party trudged north, they spotted what looked like a dragon carrying a cow flying northwest. With unexpected bravado, they decided that they would follow it in hopes of finding the dragon's lair. What they found was a valley dotted with caves crawling with goblins all wearing dragon-themed heraldry.

The party set up a pair of ambushes to capture a prisoner to interrogate for information. They found out that the goblins had thrown in their lot with the dragon, who they saw as their champion and protector. They also found out in which cave the dragon laired.

They decided to try to disguise one of the party as a goblin to sneak into the valley and then use a potion of diminution to sneak into the dragon's lair to steal some treasure. This was all enthusiastically received until they realized that the only party member that could speak goblin was Vonz the elf, played by our youngest and least experienced player.

Knowing that this plan would likely result in Vonz's death, the rest of the party left it up to Vonz as to whether or not he would go. Embracing his doom, he agreed. The party then detailed an excellent plan, taking advantage of Vonz's abilities and his Charm Person spell. They even gave him the strange metallic potion they found last session in case he needed it for negotiation. In the hands of a more experienced player, I would have given the party a decent chance of getting away with some treasure. Unfortunately, once Vonz was on his own, the carefully laid out plan completely fell apart.

What resulted was a very entertaining evening at Vonz's expense — to the delight of everyone, even Vonz's player (though he did not quite appreciate it as much as the rest of us). In what ammounted to a comedy of errors, Vonz bumbled into the dragon's lair and proceeded to get eaten.

The party then abandoned their quarry, and continued toward Redwraith. On the way, they stumbled upon a small Dwarven colony that specialized in working bronze. When it became clear that the party was headed to Redwraith, they were not welcome.

Finally, the party arrived at Redwraith to find that its undead problem is a result of being ruled by a cadre of necromancers. The offered cure for Hamlin's lost strength was an alchemal creature called a Thanaty Worm — a symbiot that helps heal the host. The cost of this relationship, however, is that once the worm's host dies, the Thanaty Worm transforms the corpse into walking dead in service of Redwraith's necromancers. Hamlin was unwilling to pay this price and the session ended with a quick return to Headwater, but not before picking up another adventurer — Deacon Swibish of Redwraith, who, unlike Hamlin, was quite willing to take on a Thanaty Worm. We shall see how that plays out.

Our Deracinated Hobby

One of the great things about reading Grognardia is the wonderful vocabulary that James pulls out every now and then. One such wonderful word is derancinated. I was as shocked as James when this etymological gem from Middle French garnered the reaction it did. It got me to thinking about a guy named Marcion.

In the second century, about A.D. 140, this guy named Marcion showed up at the church in Rome with a hand full of cash. By 144, however, Marcion's theological system was revealed. His money was returned and he was excommunicated.

Marcion believed that the Hebrew God of the Old Testament was not the same God that Jesus came to reveal. He could not reconcile the jealousy, wrath and legalism of the OT God with the love of the NT God. Thus, he insisted on the very first canon of Scripture in the Christian era: the Gospel according to Luke (the only Gentile of the Evangelists) and ten of the Epistles attributed to St. Paul. He tried to strip Christianity of its Hebrew roots in order to understand it.

The Church insisted on retaining the OT with all its warts, all its inconsistencies, and all its historical inaccuracies knowing that its primary purpose was revelation. All those warts, inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies had to be reconciled if one was to be able to answer the question, "Who is God?" and more specifically that most important question, "Who is Jesus Christ?"

Despite the problems that arise from all these books, written by different people, edited and redacted by others from different times, in different places, in different languages and in a variety of genres, the Church knows more about God and more about Christ from the OT than it does from the NT. Without its roots — Hebrew Scripture and Judaism — Christianity is rendered meaningless.

Let me be clear: I am not trying to place OD&D on some kind of biblical plane without which D&D's later editions are rendered meaningless nor am I trying to declare that anyone who prefers to play later editions of the game are heretics. I am trying to say that the endeavor to understand the roots and history of this hobby is not only something that we in the OSR enjoy doing, but it is good for the hobby as a whole.
Christianity left behind many liturgical practices and traditions from its Judaic past; however, it also holds onto some practices that modern Judaism no longer uses. Knowing the whys and the wherefores not only makes the Christian liturgical life richer, it makes all of life more meaningful.

It is certainly possible to play 4th Edition and have a blast doing so without ever knowing anything about 0e-3.5e. I would argue, though, that someone who does know the history, archeology and mechanics of our hobby is not only going to be a better player, but will be better equipped to get the most fun out of whichever edition they choose to play.

Take, for example, my own experience with this game we love. I have seen the game morph the Cleric from being "humans who have dedicated themselves to one or more of the gods" (leaving room for either a monotheistic or polytheistic world-view) to being necessarily polytheistic and pagan. On their own, every edition of D&D starting with 2e is incompatible with my world-view. I am forced to choose between what I believe and the rules of the game — not my idea of a good time. However, in going back to the LBBs and the history of the game, I have discovered not only that making up rules and doing things on your own where expected elements of the game, but Clerics have their origin in Christianity. Thus, I am free to play whatever edition I choose with a monotheistic world-view knowing that I am standing squarely in the traditions of the game. That is my idea of a good time.

Random Dungeon

Recently I've been ill and mostly bedridden, during which I usually seek solace in B-movies and/or reading "bad" sci-fi and fantasy novels. For various reasons, I did not have access to either of these comforts and as such had to seek an alternative way to while away my time. I pulled out a book that has been collecting dust on my shelf for many years — Central Casting: Dungeons penned by Robert Sassone and published by Task Force Games in 1991. Claiming to be "The Ultimate Dungeon Construction Guide," it offers up a random dungeon generator to create dungeons that "make sense" (as if dungeons, outside of a metaphor for the underworld, ever make sense). Fascinated as I am with random tables, I couldn't resist picking this up when I ran across it years ago, but I have never really used it. So, I decided to use my sick bed time to create a random dungeon.

There are three things that I really liked about this book. First and foremost, it emphasizes that this whole random table thing is a guide. If you don't like something, you are encouraged to change or alter it — further proof that those of us who like random tables are not slaves to the dice. Second, it determines the function of the dungeon after it is complete based on what is actually there. Thus, the dungeon does actually "make sense." Third, they have a table to determine why the dungeon was abandoned and how that affects various things in the dungeon, giving the whole thing a sense of history. I actually enjoyed this process quite a bit.

Based on my rolls, this particular dungeon was used to house soldiers, but was well hidden and had a pair of throne rooms and a bedroom suite. Thus, I decided that it was the hideout of a Bandit King who enjoyed displaying the trappings of power. The dungeon was abandoned because it was attacked and occupied by a huge monster. The tables suggested a dragon, but I wanted to have a monster that was more likely to attract followers. In the description of Hobgoblins in the MM are these two tantalizing lines:

If the lair is underground, there is a 60% chance that there will be from 2-12 carnivorous apes as guards.

Most hobgoblins speak goblin, orcish and the rudimentary tongue of carnivorous apes...

Since I have never actually taken advantage of this, I decided that the huge monster would be a giant winged ape that then attracted to it hobgoblins and carnivorous apes.


1) Guardroom. A+A
2) Granary. A+A
3) Chapel. +A
4) Blacksmith.
5) Servant's Quarters. B
6) Arena. AA+AA
7) Dining Room. A+A
8) Kitchen.
9) Storeroom.
10) Construction + Trap.
11) Library. +A
12) Guardroom. A+A
12.1) Barracks. A+AB
12.2) Barracks. A+A
12.3) Barracks. A+A
13) Smithy. +A
14) Empty.
15) Guardroom. A+A
15.1) Barracks (Commander's Room). A+A
16) Servant's Quarters. A+A
17) Lavatory. No Water
18) Sculptor's Room.
19) Empty.
20) Torture Room (Whipping). A+A
21) Guardroom. A
22) Execution Room (poison). A
23) Armory.
24) Construction.
25) Guardroom. A
26) Empty.
27) Exhibition Room. A+A
28) Spellcaster's Lab. B+B
28.1) Secret Storage Room.
29) Antechamber.
29.1) Antechamber. B (Ghast)
29.2) Burial Chamber. B+B (Mummy)
30) Empty.
31) Great Hall. AA+AA
32) Arena. C+C (4-armed Ape)
33) Ampitheatre. B+B (Ghast in the crawl space beneath the stage)
34) Master Bedroom. C+AABC (Sons of Cyn)
34.1) Guardroom. A
34.2) Waiting Room. A+A
34.3) Private Dining Room.
34.4) Art Room. A
34.5) Sitting Room.
34.6) Library. B
34.7) Private Bath.
35) Weapon Training Room.
36) Fortification.
37) Great Hall. D+D (Winged Ape)
38) Well Room. Magic Fountain
39) Guardroom. A+A

The codes refer to the type of encounter and type of treasure. The letters before the '+' are encounter type and those after are treasure type. The letter 'A' refers to an encounter easily dealt with by the party (such as a group of Hobgoblins) and a small treasure. The letter 'D' refers to something very challenging to the party and a major treasure. In parenthesis placed creatures I would include in the more challenging encounter areas.

Winged Ape

Armor Class: 2 [17]
Hit Dice: 8
Attacks: 1-10/1-10 (+2d6)
Saving Throw: 8
Special: Rending, Immune to Fear, Never Surprised
Move: 9/18 (when flying)
Morale: 10
Challenge Level/XP: 10/1400

These giants, resembling grey apes with red skin, eyes and leathery wings, attack with powerful clawed hands. If both hands hit a single opponent, the winged ape will do an additional 2d6 damage by rending.

Lost Colonies Session 4

This session saw the first real attempt at wilderness exploration and a hint at a semblance of a plot. After losing his chitin armor to a roll on the Triple Secret Random Dungeon Fate Chart of Very Probable Doom, Hamlen very much wanted to find the material necessary to replace it. Knowing of a rumor that giant insects roamed the jungle to the south, the party set out to go giant insect hunting.

They bought several extra shields — to take full advantage of the house rule we've been using that a shield can be sacrificed to negate a hit. They brought along a pair of mules to haul the chitin they expected to find. They hired on a cleric to help heal wounds. They bought a potion of plant control from the alchemist. Finally, they asked some of the locals for some information about the area they were about to venture into. Fr. Valinor mentioned that he had not recently heard from a village priest in the vicinity, so the party decided to look him up.

After spending several days wandering and fighting some nasty, very poisonous insects, losing the hired cleric to a failed save v. poison and going through several shields, the party came across a pathway that led to the village they were looking for, or at least what remained of it.

The village was razed and littered with bodies. Among the carnage they found a few bodies that were not like the rest. They were albino, tatooed and had had their heads removed. They did not find the body of the priest.

They scoured the village for clues and found a trail that led to the lair of a wererat. Inside they found an albino body with a head still intact — covered by a magical golden mask. It carried a potion of a metallic liquid and a very rare iron scimitar.

The wererat was defeated by a creative use of a silver holy symbol, a bunch of wrestling and the revelation that the iron scimitar could actually damage the lycanthrope.

The village priest was found, bound, tortured and barely clinging to life. Later, Deacon Guron was told by the priest, a Fr. Taggert, that both the albinos and the wererat were after a relic, the eye of St. Gabriel. It had protected the village from giant insects and allowed them to collect valuable resins and saps in peace. Fr. Taggert hid the relic by gouging out his own eye and replacing it with the relic.

Our session ended with the party taking the priest back to Headwater and delivering their hard-earned chitin to the leather worker.

My players, being used to 3.5 and heavy-handed plots, immediately sniffed out the fact that these bodies and the mask were important. They began to ask my NPCs in earnest, what should we do? I have to admit, I was torn. I could have easily pointed them in a direction I wanted them to go, and they would have gone. This, however, is not the first time they have found clues to what is going on in the background. So far, they have showed little inclination to go where these clues point. I didn't want to force them in a direction they didn't seem to want to go. As such, I didn't push the issue and my NPCs simply said, 'find out more' and 'is there any information you want us to get?' We shall see what happens.

One last thing. Evidently, monstrous spiders in this campaign can speak. A random encounter turned into a very entertaining negotiation that ended with a very clever use of the potion of plant control. This is what I love about random encounters and the need to make things up as you go along — improvisation can come up with wonderful things.

Lost Colonies Session 3

One thing this particular group does very differently than what I am used to is their ready use of one-shot items like scrolls and potions. They have eagerly traded for and bought these items in quantity and burn through them regularly. I have encouraged this by awarding experience for using these items (reflecting the money spent to get them in the first place) because I have enjoyed their creative use. From my own experience, one-shot items were looked down upon and more permanent magical items like rings, armor, etc. were preferred. In fact, I have seen one-shot items often sold or traded in order to procure rings, armor, etc. Rarely, if ever, have I seen one-shot items actually used.

I don't know which is more peculiar — the ready use of one-shot items by this group, or my own disdain for them — but I do see a connection between computer games and this party's style. One-use items are common in all kinds of computer games, which encourage their immediate use. Unlike for myself, these kinds of computer games are a given for all of the players of this group. So, I wouldn't be surprised if this explained the difference in our styles of play.

Thus, when party decided to follow the underground river in the catacombs in hopes of finding Hamlen's beloved spiked club, the party used a pair of climbing potions to rig a rope system to get down a waterfall they eventually found. At the bottem they found themselves in a gigantic cavern covered in a fungal forest and gently lit by a luminescent lichen. Despite the fact the the goal of the quest (the spiked club) was discovered on the shore below the waterfall, the party decided to press on.

They encountered fungal zombies which burst into poisonous spores when killed. Despite two party members failing their saves, they pressed on.

They found a fortress carves from the rock of the cavern wall which was surrounded by a field of bones — evidence of a battle fought many years ago. Of note, many of the bodies did not have heads. The party chose to press on.

They found a hidden cavern with a tunnel and stair that went down. They chose to press on.

This tunnel twisted and turned and finally ended in a T-section. They chose to press on.

The party then encountered a powerful beast with a gaze attack that charmed those who fell victim. The party was quickly split between those who were charmed and those who were not. Only through with creative use of bed blankets and gang tackles did the party miraculously survive; however, the fight caught the attention of more denizens of the deep.

It was at this point that someone complained that this wasn't a first level dungeon. I simply responded that I hadn't forced any one to go anywhere. In a delicious moment, other players chimed in and not only defended me, but declared how much they appreciated the freedom that this style of play gives them — especially in comparison to the adventure path style they were used to.

In an inspired old-school moment, the youngest player in the group (the dwarf Thog) used iron spikes to help seal a door to prevent those monsters from getting through. However, instead of running away, the party decided to delve even deeper into the dungeon.

They came upon a huge cylindrical shaft with another cylinder within it. Both were covered in glowing runes and bridges connected the inner cylinder with the outer on several levels above and below.

Very quickly, the party was attacked from several fronts. Once again, instead of running away, they pressed on. The dwarf found a secret door, which hid a stair case going up. With much relief they finally tried to get out of the dungeon.

In this, they failed. The had pushed too far and too deep for the party to get out prior to the time I had to be home to put my kids to bed. Being merciful, I allowed the party to make a save or roll on the Triple Secret Random Dungeon Fate Chart of Very Probable Doom. The alternative was the certain death of several party memebers. Throg was captured, but alive somewhere in the dungeon and Hamlen escaped but suffered a horrible wound that reduced his Strength and he lost much of his equipment (fortunately he held on to the spiked club).

From my own perspective, this was a highly entertaining session. The party pushed me because they kept going in directions I did not expect. I can't really explain why they pushed so hard into the dungeon. I can see two very different possibilities. One may be because their experience with the far more powerful 3.5 classes made them overconfident. The other may very well be that without carefully crafted CRs that force spell casters to blow through their spells in order to survive any single encounter, the players felt free to push beyond what they normally would do.

Given the reality of the Triple Secret Random Dungeon Fate Chart of Very Probable Doom, however, I expect to see a bit more caution in the future.

Just Say No to Skill Checks

I have stated before that I don't really care for systems that use skills. It wasn't until recently, however, that I came to understand, in a succinct way, why I despise them so much. It comes down to this:

Skills and skill-like mechanisms primarily do not describe what a character can do, rather they describe what a player, especially a Referee, cannot do.

The Thief of D&D is an excellent example of this axiom. I have never been fond of thieves. Apart from my discomfort at their explicit association with illegal activities, I have played in too many campaigns where players with thief characters felt that they needed to break the law. Too many times has party cohesion been damaged by players who try to use their thief skills on other party members. Too many times have I been forced to kill entire parties because a thief dragged everyone into a fight with the city guard over a failed pick pocket attempt. But I digress.

The thief class is defined by their ability to use skills — Open Locks, Remove Traps, Climb Walls, Pick Pockets Hear Noise, Move Silently and Hide in Shadows. As a result these skills tended to become explicitly Thief skills — everyone else at the table was no longer able to use those skills. In other words, the thief class defines what every other player cannot do. It doesn't matter how well anyone describes how their magic user is going to disarm a trap, with the thief and his skills in the game, magic users aren't allowed to disarm the trap — they don't have the skill, so they can't roll for it. Ultimately, this kills creativity. Why bother to describe a creative way for anybody to disarm a trap when the rules will determine that you fail anyway? It doesn't matter if I have a degree in mechanical engineering and can describe exactly the way a trap might function, and exactly how to destroy or stop that mechanism. If my character doesn't have the skill, I am not allowed to disarm that trap. Mechanics start to define the character instead of the player.

There is a way to beat the system, however. Let me begin by giving an example of a great rule:

Love your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and all your strength . . . and love your neighbor as yourself. — Mark 12:30-31

When Christ gives us these two commandments, He sets up boundaries beyond which we should not pass; however, within those boundaries we are allowed complete freedom. In other words, good rules don't limit freedom.

Skills can be used in a way that they don't limit what players, especially referees, can do. The key is to understand that you have the power to say no to the skill check. If a player successfully describes how to accomplish something they should be rewarded with success no matter what skills their character has. Don't force them to roll the die — don't kill the creativity.

To give a concrete example, let us look at the D&D thief again. One way to describe this mindset is to understand the thief skills as abilities, not skills. In other words, they are things every one can do, the thief is just able to do them above and beyond the normal adventurer. Thus, every other class can hide, move silently, etc. The thief is just better at it — if he fails to successfully describe how to accomplish a task — using the same criteria as everyone else — he gets a "save," as it were, by rolling the die to use his Thief skills. As abilities, as opposed to skills, they no longer determine what players cannot do.

Don't kill the creativity at your table. Just say no to the skill check.

Misc. Map

Life has intruded, and I have been unable to post anything lately; however, I do have a random map I'd like to share. Enjoy.

Another Weapon vs. AC Table

A friend of mine recently showed off his copy of 1st edition Oriental Adventures, expressing an interest in playing. I have to admit, I am not much of a fan of these rules, because I am not much enamored with the proficiency rules, and never have been. I would, however, be interested in doing a Ruins & Ronins campaign.

Like many, I am fascinated by medieval Japan (Yojimbo is one of my all-time favorite movies). What many may not know, Christianity did exist in Japan prior to the Tokugawa era. As many as 250,000 Japanese became Christian, particularly in the South where Europeans made the most contact. They were wiped out, however, by Tokugawa, who saw them as being a negative foreign influence. Thus, I would be able to explore this aspect of Japanese culture — its mystery and its own fascination with and repulsion of a Christian theology.

My inner geek, however, relishes in the idea of applying weapon vs. AC adjustments in a new way. Ruins & Ronins does three things that are significant in this regard. First, there are no shields, so there doesn't have to be any debate about how to understand them in terms of AC. Second, AC is determined cumulatively by pieces of armor. Finally, characters are given a Base Hit Bonus which goes up as they level. This allows for the weapon vs. AC table to consist of target numbers instead of bonuses and penalties.

Using the weapon vs. AC table in Oriental Adventures as a starting point, I immediately ran into a problem. The Nodachi has vastly superior bonuses across the board than any other weapon in the game. In a European context, this works because there is a tactical choice between the offensive power of the 2H Sword and the defense of a shield (especially if you use a house rule where shields can be used as ablative armor to negate a hit). In R&R there are no shields, thus there is no tactical choice — the nodachi is a vastly superior weapon that everyone will want to use because it makes no tactical sense to do anything else. Thus, I had to start over from scratch.

As I see it, there are four possible patterns for weapons vs. AC that allow for a tactical choice in combat:
1) Weapons that are better vs. heavy armor but worse vs. light or no armor.
2) Weapons that are worse vs. heavy armor but better vs. light or no armor.
3) Weapons that are worse vs. heavy, light and no armor but better vs. medium armor.
4) Weapons that have no bonuses or penalties vs. any armor.

Traditionally, 3 & 4 do not exist in D&D weapon vs. AC tables; however, there is some semblance of them in Chainmail. Since the point of this whole exercise is to add a layer of tactics to weapon choice, I want to use all four patterns.

Weapons can be categorized into three basic types based on damage: Blunt, Slashing and Piercing. These neatly fit into patterns 1, 2, and 3 respectively. This, however, does not allow for the use of pattern 4. I am contemplating using pattern 4 for martial arts, given that Asia is famous for its unarmed combat and it has techniques that can ignore armor — the abstract nature of 0e combat can understand these techniques as holds and throws, for example. Weapons can be further categorized by being one-handed or two-handed.

Here is a rough draft of a Weapon vs. AC table for Ruins & Ronins:

--------Weapon Type
AC-----2HB-----1HB-----2HS-----1HS-----2HP----1HP-----MA
-1.......17......18.......23......22.......22......21......20
0........16......17.......22......21.......20......19......19
1........16......17.......20......19.......18......18......18
2........15......16.......19......18.......16......17......17
3........15......16.......17......16.......14......15......16
4........15......15.......15......15.......12......13......15
5........15......14.......13......14.......12......13......14
6........15......14.......11......12.......12......13......13
7........14......13.......10......11.......12......12......12
8........14......13........8.......9.......12......11......11
9........13......12........7.......8.......12......11......10

Please note: All numbers are target numbers. MA can also be understood to be AAC. In terms of missile weapons, a Daikyu is considered to be a 2HP and all others are 1HP.

2H=2 Handed; 1H=1 Handed
B=Blunt; S=Slashing; P=Piercing
MA=Martial Arts/Unarmed Combat

Meditations on Magic

Many of us who played D&D through the 80s experienced and remember the association of our hobby with witchcraft, satanism and a whole Pandora's Box of mental, societal and criminal problems. My own hometown newspaper published a top-10 list of danger signs that your child is a satanist which included playing D&D. Much of this negative reaction to D&D, I believe, stems from the fact that characters in the game use magic. There are several passages in Scripture that equate the use of sorcery with sin. For example:

When self-indulgence is at work the results are obvious: sexual vice, impurity, and sensuality, the worship of false gods and sorcery; antagonisms and rivalry, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels, disagreements, factions and malice, drunkenness, orgies and all such things. Galatians 5:19-21

Rebellion is a sin of sorcery, presumption a crime of idolatry! 'Since you have rejected Yahweh's word, he has rejected you as king.' 1 Sam 15:23

What I find interesting, and telling, about these passages is the Greek for words the English has variably translated as sorcery, divination, or witchcraft. In the examples above, St. Paul uses the word pharmakeia which can be translated as both sorcery and healing. Indeed, it is the root for the English words pharmacy and pharmaceutical. In 1 Samuel, the Greek is oionisma, which refers to a type of divination that interprets the flight of birds.

In other words, magic is like any other part of creation — its being good or evil entirely depends upon how it is used. Pharmakeia can be used to coerce or con somebody (sorcery) or it can be used to help people (healing). Oionisma was used by King Saul in a way that divorced it from God — he turned away from God and instead put his trust in the flight path of birds. The evil of magic is not inherent in magic itself, but rather in the way we allow it to turn us away from God.

It is fascinating that D&D instinctually portrays this dichotomy with its magic system — divine magic being granted by God in contrast with arcane magic which finds its source within the will of the user. It would be easy to declare all divine magic good and all arcane magic evil (which does put an intriguing spin on OD&D and B/X elves), but this ignores the history of the game and ignores my basic premise that good and evil of magic is determined by how it is used.

This doesn't mean, however, that both should be equally easy to use to do good. For example, a sword and an axe are both weapons designed to kill people; however, an axe is also a tool that can be used to create things. While it is possible to use both to do good, it is easier to use an axe for good than a sword. In this same way, I feel divine magic should be easier to do good with than arcane magic. This is inherent in that divine magic is more defensive and arcane magic is more offensive; however, I like my arcane magic a little more dangerous.

I have used a number of mechanics to accomplish this. I very much enjoy the Vancian magic interpretation of S&S, which requires a roll to successfully cast a spell, which may not take effect immediately even when successful. This does not, however, take into account the motivations behind the action — that which largely determines the goodness or vileness of an action. For example, healing someone so that they can continue to be tortured for more information is not a good act. In worlds where monsters are physical manifestations of sin, one can easily have fun with wandering monster tables when arcane magic is used carelessly. This is especially effective when you have tables with monsters based on the type of sins committed.

According to the Fathers of the Church, sin can be broken down into three basic categories: Irascible (wrath, despair), Concupisent (lust, greed) and Intellectual (vainglory, pride). Each of these categories can be countered with the traditional Christian practices of fasting (for irascible sins), alms-giving (for concupisent sins) and prayer (for intellectual sins). Using this background as a jumping off point, it is relatively easy to come up with some tables utilizing standard monsters:

Irascible
1-2 Berserker
3-4 Dragon
5-6 Lycanthrope

Concupisent
1-2 Ghoul
3-4 Harpy
5-6 Lamia

Intellectual
1-2 Doppleganger
3-4 Efreeti
5-6 Brain Lasher

It is also fun to design monsters that personify the various kinds of sins. Note that the character need not necessarily encounter the monster, or even be aware of its existence. Sin never just affects the person who sins, but also everyone around them. Thus, a character can bring a plague of monsters upon a neighboring community.

All of this makes arcane magic truly dangerous to use. Some side-effects of this reality that I like:
arcane magic users are going to be rare, distrusted and often Chaotic; magic is rare — the common man is too afraid to use anything associated with it; and elves are mysterious and dangerous — they aren't entirely trusted by other folk and they are as much a threat to those they help as they are to those they oppose.

Thus, it is possible to do good with arcane magic, its just not as easy as with divine magic.

Lost Colonies Session 2

Our second session saw the addition of another player and an elf to the quest to retrieve Hamlen's spiked club. I would give the elf's name, but no one remembers it (see below). The party quickly brought the elf up to speed and immediately returned to the frogmen sub-level.

The frogmen had used one of their own corpses to grow a young shrieker to warn them of the party's coming. In turn, the party was happy to use the young shrieker to lure the frogmen into the open and peg them with spells and arrows. The frogmen failed their morale and the encounter turned into a running battle.

The party found the frogmen's lair, which included a fast moving underground river, along with a fair share of booty. The spiked club was retrieved from the giant frog's gut only to be lost in the currents of the river (I love making up fumble results on natural 1s). Greed got the better of Hamlen, and they busied themselves with retrieving the treasure and getting it from one side of the river to the other.

Feeling quite confident after their victory over the frogmen, the party decided to have another go at the rats. It proved to be as short and bloody as the last encounter. The elf was overwhelmed and killed. Beating a hasty retreat, the party encountered some orcs who held a dwarven prisoner by the name of Thog. After his rescue, Thog explained that he was captured by the orcs in order to find false walls and hidden traps within the catacombs. The orcs were led by a female magic user wearing a golden mask, though she and the majority of the orcs did not descend into the catacombs. Although they had figured out how to get into the catacombs, the orcs had no holy symbol to open the secret door and get out. Thog happily joined the group. Beaten, battered and tapped out of spells and healings, the party decided to head back to Headwaters to spend their treasure.

The brothers Hamlen and Guron made a contract with some local carpenters to build a barn on their father's land. Guron found that the weapon smith at the Ft. Headwaters had a flail available and Hamlen discovered that the local leatherworker, a man named Tithian, could work with giant insect chiten. A suit could provide the protection of platemail, but was semi-ablative. Any natural 20 would decrease its effectiveness by 1 AC. Tithian had already started one suit, so Hamlen commissioned the rest to be finished by our next session. Turgon was anxious to copy all of the spells out of their fallen elven companion into his own spell book. When he discovered that the only way to do so was through a Read Magic spell, which neither spell book contained, he busied himself with purchasing the necessary materials to scribe a scroll to send to his old master in the City. He sent this package along with a request for a Read Magic spell with a caravan headed towards the City. He was told to expect a reply in two to four weeks.

I keep track of time outside of our sessions by equating 1 game day for every 2 real days that go by. We only play every other week — there is a 3.5 game that is ongoing that the group plays on the off weeks. Had we played every week, time would pass as 1 game day = 1 real day. This allows for natural healing between sessions as well as purchases like Hamlen's armor or Turgon's communications to proceed at a more natural/realistic pace and yet not interfere with the adventures.

Prior to this session, I downloaded Ruins and Ronins by Mike D. over at Sword +1. It is compatible with the Swords & Wizardry rule set, but with an Oriental setting in mind. Mike gave his fighter class a Cleave-like ability that we decided to try out, given that the magic users were a bit more powerful using the Vancian magic system of Spellcraft & Swordplay where casters get a chance to keep the spells they cast. This resulted in an interesting twist.

The players of both spell casters and the fighter all thought their characters were too powerful. I was quite surprised, given that the base classes in LL are much weaker than their 3.5 counter parts. In the face of the first character death, the players were beginning to embrace the challenge of surviving with a weaker character class than they were used to. Giving their characters more powers cheapened the experience. As a result, we've gotten rid of the cleave-like ability for fighters and we've scaled back the S&S magic system. I converted it to a d20 roll and failure by 5 or more results in a backfire. Alternatively, the players may choose to cast and forget, thus eliminating the roll, but sacrificing the ability to hold on to the spell to cast again. I was looking forward to see which option they would choose in coming sessions.

Happy Birthday to H.P. Lovecraft

James over at Grognardia reminded me that today is H.P. Lovecraft's birthday. If you couldn't already tell by the quote over on the right side of this page and the use of Lovecraftian images and quotes in my adventures and worlds, I am a big Lovecraft fan. Much as he has influenced science fiction and fantasy through the quiet background noise of the desolation he depicted in his writings, he has influenced the way I game. Chaos and evil have always passively or explicitly used Lovecraftian imagery in my worlds.

The irony is that I have a much deeper appreciation for Lovecraft and his world-view (with its belief that humanity and their works are, in the great scheme of things, insignificant) now, as a Christian, than I ever did when I first read his work and fell in love with it. The reason is simple: I agree with HPL and he illustrates it in a way that makes the reality of it truly horrifying.

I beseech you, my child, to look at heaven and earth and see everything in them, and know that God made them out of nothing; so also He made the race of man in this way. — 2 Maccabees 7:28

The grand sum total of everything humanity has ever done or will ever do sans God is nothing. I was personally confronted with this reality while wandering around Castle Siklos in southern Hungary on an overcast October day during the Yugoslavian Civil War. Just south of me, the Croatian stronghold of Osijek was under siege by Serbian forces. I felt the shock wave of each artillery shell rip through my gut and shatter my heart. In a world without God, all that remains is the endless struggle for power, at the of which is that black nothingness of a forgotten death. The typical response of an HPL character to such a reality — mind crushing despair — actually seems reasonable. Any one who actually has the fortitude to stand up in the face of this chaos truly is a hero.

Into this mess— this bleak, meaningless exercise in futility — came a babe who 33 years later would boldly march to Golgotha with a cross on His back. Willingly, He embraced the nothingness that is death. In so doing, He brought life, light and hope to those in darkness. He went to the very depths of where evil lay, looked the devil in the eye and said not here, not today. He snatched our very being from the jaws of absolute nothing and took us back with Him as a highly-valued treasure and presented us to His Father.

This is why I love the metaphor of delving into the depths of a megadungeon to face off against some vile spawn of chaos to steal away treasures to further the fight against forces of evil. This is why I love HPL so much. His imagery truly captures the utter terror and mind-dumbing despair of a world without God. Standing up to that horror and surviving to fight another day — that's a perfect expression of the hope I have in Christ.

Happy Birthday HPL.

Lost Colonies Session 1

This experiment began because there were only three players available from a 3.5 campaign that had to take a week off due to obligations of the other players. The three that remained were willing to give Labyrinth Lord a try. Fortunately, they enjoyed it enough to make a campaign of it. The initial party of three consisted of two brothers — Deacon Guran the Cleric and Hamlen the Fighter — whose father was a local farmer, and Turgan the Magic User, who travelled into the wilds from the City (which, as of yet, has no formal name) in order to find adventure. 

Between the three they knew of four rumors about potential adventure in the area. To the northeast there is a place called Redwraith that has a persistent undead problem. Directly south is a jungle that is known to contain giant insects. Southeast is an abandoned monastery that has recently been occupied by orcs. Also to the southeast, a few days travel beyond the monastery, is a fort called Longwood. It has recently been victimized by attacks from the air.

Of these, the monastery seemed the most attractive. The group equipped themselves, embracing non-metallic weapons and armor in order to avoid the price hike for things like swords and chainmail. Despite encouragement by the referee, they did not try to find any hirelings or henchmen. Instead, they bought a pair of dogs. 

The monastery itself is a fortified structure on top of a stone pillar a couple of hundred feet tall. Three cave openings dot the large column of rock and there is a large stairway that winds up to the main entrance of the fortifications. A large hill sits opposite the monastery. There appears to be a large door that leads into the hill. The only access to this seems to be a causeway from the fortifications. The hill around the door has been hewn away to almost vertical, making any climb up hazardous. Beneath it are the ruins of a town — the only structures that remain are the ruins of two towers, the gate house and a church. The party was quite wary of the fortifications and decided to busy themselves with the ruins beneath.

They found the gatehouse and one of the towers unoccupied. The other tower was clogged with webbing, which they wisely decided to leave alone. Finally, they entered the ruined church. Inside, they found several orcs and a secret door behind a statue of St. Nesoran, to whom the church was dedicated. After routing the orcs, they discovered that the secret door led to a sacristy and some stairs down behind a locked door. Of note, the secret door could only be opened from the inside using Deacon Guran's holy symbol.

The stairs led to some catacombs. Within they found a fount with blessed waters capable of healing wounds once a day when placed on the wound. Drinking it just quenched thirst. They also found a section dominated by giant rats. This encounter proved to be short and bloody. Both dogs died, Deacon Guran contracted a nasty disease and the party was forced to retreat.

After getting proper medical treatment, the party hired on a local hunter named Guy. Returning to the catacombs, they avoided the rat infestation and stumbled upon a sub level guarded by a living statue labeled "St. Gabriel the Guardian." Remembering the secret door, Deacon Guran flashed his holy symbol and the statue let them pass. 

Beyond, they found a number of frogmen and giant frogs occupying a series of natural caves. They experimented with fire and oil, with mixed and often hilarious results. They managed to secure an obsidian statuette of a humanoid with a tentacled face before they had to beat a hasty retreat in the face of overwhelming numbers when a few well-placed shriekers were set off, but not before Harmen's beloved spiked club was swallowed by one of the giant frogs. Harmen was determined to return and gut the creature to retrieve his favorite weapon.

I only give experience for treasure spent, so the characters quickly went about trying to sell the statuette. They struck up a good relationship with the local alchemist Alidor, who, while being a bit absent minded, is interested in strange artifacts and various ingredients one might glean from the denizens of a dungeon. They managed to barter for some potions and offered to bring back various potential ingredients, to which Alidor happily agreed. The brothers ended the evening's play by purchasing a new stud horse for their father's farm.

This is an example of a consequence of exerience for treasure spent — players must find things for their characters to spend their money on. This process is easier to accomplish when the players find financial goals for their characters to try and accomplish — in this case, getting more potions and helping with their father's farm. It should be noted that this really only works in an environment where the players are free to drive the campaign in directions that they choose. In an environment where the story arc of the campaign is thrust upon the characters, character goals become largely irrelevant and the experience for treasure spent loses much of its luster.

Lost Colonies Campaign

Recently, I have been running a Labyrinth Lord campaign with a group who primarily were introduced to D&D through 3rd edition. It has been an exercise in impromptu refereeing, on my part. I did not know what to expect, as far as a continuing campaign. As a result, I re-purposed a bunch of maps — I did not want to spend a lot of prep time on a campaign that might not last and part of me wanted to experiment with the concept. In fact, I have yet to use a map specifically created for this campaign. Interestingly, this has not hampered anyone's enjoyment of the game, and, as far as I am concerned, I've actually had more fun than I usually do as a referee.

For the curious, I am using a Judges Guild map for the campaign world, recast as a wilderness with the last vestiges of several colonies established by an empire that collapsed over a generation ago. The players began their careers in a town named after the fortress that protects it — Headwaters. It is the last stronghold of civilization, surrounded by a wilderness ruled by beings of Chaos. I placed several potential adventures, dungeons and megadungeons on the map, created a classic rumor table and had the players roll to see what their characters knew. After that, it was entirely up to them as to what they did — something they have come to really appreciate.

The area is sub-tropical and metal poor. This has put a premium on all things metallic and forced the players to be creative about how they equip their characters. More on that later. I've thoroughly enjoyed James' synopsis of his Dwimmermount campaign. In a similar vein, with an eye towards observing how 3.5 players adapt to old school play, I plan to write up my own synopsis of what I'll call the Lost Colonies campaign. Enjoy.

I Have the Power!

One of the perks of being a father of young children is that I get an excuse to watch a lot of cartoons. I particularly enjoy sharing with my kids the cartoons I grew up watching. It is a fascinating experience full of surprises. For example, I enjoy the original series of Johnny Quest more as an adult than I did as a kid and my eldest daughter is a big fan of Thundarr the Barbarian, of all things. The is one show, however, that held no surprise for me at all — He-Man: Masters of the Universe.

My children have shown very little interest in He-Man, and I have never much liked the show myself. One of the main reasons for my dislike is that I was acutely aware that the He-Man cartoons were 30 minute commercials for actions figures.

He-Man toys first appeared in 1981. The Filmation cartoon didn't air until 1983. In other words, the He-Man cartoon was one of the first instances that I am aware of that created a TV show based on a Toy instead of the other way around. This particular arrangement bothered me quite a lot. I had never shown much interest in action figures based on movies or TV shows. Even my love for the Star Wars movies never really materialized in much of a collection of Star Wars toys. I never felt free to play with the toys as I wished to play with them. Luke Skywalker was always going to be Luke. I couldn't imagine allowing myself to do anything else.

He-Man took this to a whole new level. Making a TV show based on a toy sent a message: this is how you play with these toys. Looking back, I find it fascinating that the original back-story for He-Man, prior to the advent of the TV show, sounded like a great sandbox campaign:

He-Man is a barbarian from an Eternian tribe. The planet's inhabitants are dealing with the aftermath of the Great Wars, which devastated the civilizations that once ruled supreme over all lesser beings. The Wars left behind advanced machinery and weaponry known only to select people. — Wikipedia

By creating the detailed story lines of the TV show, this evocative description, and the endless possibilities were, for all practices purposes, destroyed. Anyone playing with the He-Man toys would expect to play the TV show, and nothing else. He-Man marks the moment in my life when I became disillusioned by marketing. It also marks a shift in the culture of RPGs.

The Dungeons & Dragons cartoon came out in 1983. Dragonlance first appeared in 1984. The way that D&D was being marketed sent a message: this is the way you play the game.

In retrospect, the mid-eighties marked a time when I wandered away from D&D as my main RPG. In the heady days from 1979-1981, I bought everything I could associated with D&D. Starting in 1983/1984 I can count the number of TSR products I bought on one hand. If I couldn't be free to play the game the way I wanted, I wasn't going to play. Eventually I did fall in with a group that primarily felt the same way. We never played Greyhawk, let alone Forgotten Realms and all the other settings that came out in the coming years. Not only do I think that our game didn't suffer from it, but I think our game was better for it.

In Christianity, there is a reason why the Eucharist is bread and wine. God has given us wheat and grapes. We take these gifts, rework them, recreate them and then give them back to God. We are expected to be co-creators with God:

God formed out of the ground all the wild animals of the field and all the birds of the heaven, and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them. Thus whatever Adam called each living creature, that was its name. — Genesis 2:19

Thus, when we are given a game or a toy — something with which we are supposed to creative — and then told that there is only one way to play with it is antithetical to what it means to be human. This is why I've always made my own worlds and why I've never done anything with published game-settings other than read them to mine them for ideas to use in my own game worlds.

Life Isn't Fair: Lessons from V&V and White Wolf

And Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury, and He saw also a certain poor widow putting in two mites. So He said, "Truly I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all; for all these out of their abundance have put in offerings for God, but she out of her poverty put in all the livelihood that she had" (Luke 21:1-4; Mark 12:41-44).

One of the problems with scientific objectivism is that when applied to statements like "all men are created equal" it has a very difficult time justifying them. Objectively a quadraplegic is not equal to an NFL football player. Life isn't fair. We do not all begin life with the same hand of cards; however, in context of Christ, it is not the hand we are dealt, but rather the way we play the hand that matters. In the eyes of God, the poor widow played brilliantly with a very bad hand; whereas the rich played very poorly with fabulous hands. In other words, being a great human being is not dependent upon having having a bunch of gifts handed to us on a silver platter. Doing the best we can with what gifts we have — playing the hand of cards as best as we can — is what makes us great. In my own experience, this has been reflected in my gaming, none more so than with Villains and Vigilantes and Mage: the Ascension.

Like many gamers, I played a lot of White Wolf in the 90s. I played several campaigns and though I enjoyed them and the company of those I played with, none of them ever really inspired me until my GM pulled a fast one on us during a Mage campaign. He wanted us to have an appreciation for the motivations and situations of our enemies. Thus, during the second session of our campaign, he handed us the character sheets of the party of Technologists who were trying to deal with the same situation our original characters were. We spent the whole session playing our own adversaries.

We all screamed and complained and threw a fit — it just wasn't fair. We'd spent all that time creating our characters and now we weren't allowed to play them. Here's the rub: we all had more fun playing the Technologists than we did playing our own characters. We more easily got into character, we were more creative with our powers, and things just seemed to click. When we had to go back to playing those characters we thought we wanted to play, and so laboriously poured over using a point-based system, everything fell flat. We stopped gelling, our creativity tanked, and our characters no longer felt right. We actually began to look forward to playing the characters imposed upon us by our GM. The characters we made for ourselves were like the rich giving to the temple — we had everything we wanted in our characters. When confronted with characters we didn't want, we had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. By pushing ourselves beyond the character, to try and find fun despite the character, we gained much more than having the characters we thought we wanted.

Over the years, I've played a lot of Champions, probably more so than any other RPG other than D&D; however, it isn't my favorite superhero RPG. That distinction goes to Villains and Vigilantes. I just can't begin to explain how much I love all those random tables I get to use during character creation. I can never get the character I want using those tables, but I can tell you that the best super hero characters I ever played were a result of those tables (I even used them for my Champions games). Being dealt an odd hand always forced me to be a better player, to be creative with the hand I was dealt, and it always seemed to create a better gaming experience than I ever got with a point build.

This is why I am very comfortable (and even prefer) rolling for stats, and rolling for them in order. If a game doesn't have some kind of random character generation system, I'm not really all that interested. Give me the randomly generated gonzo mutant weirdo over the well constructed point built character any day. The gonzo mutant weirdo will push me as a player, push my creativity, and push the game into directions hitherto untold and unexplored. The end result is a better game, because that game will be a lot more fun.