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.

Planar Cosmology of D&D Part II

In my last mediation I left with the disturbing notion that God created the Devil and allows him to work evil in the world. The reason for this is human freedom which comes out of the image and likeness. I have meditated on the image and likeness of God before, however, it is worth doing again. In part, because it is difficult to let go of our scientific and genetic world-view, but also because it liberates us from the limitations of the scientific and genetic world view.

Made in the Image and Likeness

Genesis 1: 26 states, “Then God said, 'Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness.'” Since God is ultimately free, humanity must also have freedom. God placed the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil within the garden in order that He protect humanity's freedom — to choose to follow God or to turn away from God. Even in humanity's fallen state, God provides for our freedom. The Devil is allowed to work in the world so that humanity may continue to have the freedom to accept or reject God. For God to abolish evil in the fallen world would be to destroy our freedom to choose evil, and thus God would destroy the image and likeness of God within humanity — something He declared very good (Gen 1:31). To destroy the image and likeness in humanity would make God a coercive and evil being. He has revealed to us His goodness and His longsuffering love by sending His Only-Begotten Son to take on our humanity, so that by willingly going to the cross and to the tomb, Christ might raise us up with Him in resurrection and to ascend to sit at the right hand of the Father. Our very nature, in the person of Jesus Christ, can now participate in the very being of God. Our choice to follow God allows us to tap into the power of the Holy Spirit, which allows us to overcome anything the Devil might throw at us.

To insist upon a scientific and genetic understanding of humanity severely limits what it means to be human. Historically these limitations have been used as excuses for racism, slavery, murder and genocide. The human person is not determined by DNA. We know this, because identical twins with identical DNA are unique and unrepeatable human persons. They may look alike, they may share many of the same interests, but each one is their own person. If DNA were determinative of the human person, then a twin could murder their identical sibling with no consequences, because they would be the same person.

In terms of the Planar Cosmology of D&D, the term “humanity” must be understood in context of the image and likeness, and not race (another word for DNA and genes). Even if we don't fully embrace the concept of the image and likeness, in a multiverse where magic exists, our scientific understanding of evolution becomes irrelevant. Any sentient being with the freedom to choose should be considered “human” in terms of their relationship with God. Elves, Dwarves, Halflings, Orcs, Goblins, Celestials, Abyssals, etc. are all created in the image and likeness of God.

In my own world-building, the origin of all these various races is in the Fall. Influenced by magic and the various conditions found in the environments of all the various planes, each race came into being from their human progenitors. Regardless of origin, however, no one race is inherently better than any other in the eyes of God, because they are all made in His image and likeness. When Christ came, He did so in order to save all of humanity and all of creation. That means every sentient race in the multiverse, and the entire multiverse itself.

Planar Cosmology of D&D Part I

Images have power.They stay with us for years and influence how we see and understand things. Images from the early days of D&D still hold sway over how certain monsters are envisioned. This image from Issue 6 of Strategic Review certainly has influenced D&D, both in the way it's played and in the way its rules have been written. It, and other attempts to map the planes, have contributed to the systemization of polytheism into the D&D ruleset.

On the surface, this map poses a serious conundrum to a monotheistic world view. How can there be a one God, when there exists all of these planes, each representing/encompassing a particular world view/alignment? If the traditional Christian God can be understood as Lawful Good, how do explain the planes of Chaotic Good, Chaotic Neutral, etc.? How can there be one God and multiple Prime Material Planes?

In this first installment of a meditation on the Planes in D&D, I will begin to try and answer these questions from a monotheistic and Christian point of view. My goal is to demonstrate that the Planes, even as envisioned by Gygax in Issue 6 of Strategic Review, do not require a polytheistic point of view. Let me begin with a very key Christian dogma.

Creation from Nothing

The idea that God created everything from nothing is implied in the first chapter of Genesis, “In the beginning God made heaven and earth,” with the phrase “In the beginning” also implying that time is part of creation. The dogma is explicitly stated in 2 Macabees 7:28 “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.”

This is in marked contrast to pagan thinking, where gods create the world from something that was already in existance. Whereas pagan gods are limited and part of creation, the Christian God is radically free and radically different than His creation.

God exists outside of time, without beginning. Time is part of creation, which has a beginning and therefore must have an end. All of creation will move towards its end — a return to nothing — save for the will of God.

In terms of the Planar Cosmology of D&D, God is not limited to His corner of creation because the entire multi-verse is part of creation. From a Christian point of view, every plane in existence was created by God, not just our version of the Prime Material Plane. All of creation — every plane in every diagram of the planar map — is hurtling towards its own end — a return to nothing. However, in His benevolence, God is willing it all to continue to exist.

One of the logical conclusions to this dogma is that God created the Devil (and in the D&D multiverse all the various planes of evil and chaos) and continues to allow them to exist. God remains a good and loving God despite this because the existence of the Devil (and the planes of evil and chaos) guarantees human freedom. Without choice of good or evil, law or chaos, humanity would not be free and God would destroy His image in us.

Why I Love the Third Imperium

Recently, I have been able to get into several boxes that haven't seen the light of day in about five years. One of these contained all of my Traveller books. I have played Traveller on and off since the late 70s. However, like many, my favorite aspect of the game has always been reading up on the setting created for Traveller — the Third Imperium.

The one aspect of this massive setting that I love the most is that when humankind finally reaches out to the stars, the first alien species they find is . . . human. To me, this is far more challenging, horrifying, and alien than any of the various alien species offered by any science fiction setting anywhere (as an aside, I also love the fact that the most unsavory of three major human cultures is the one that originated on earth). I have previously explained why humans make the best monsters, and the Third Imperium has certainly contributed to this belief. The concept of human beings as alien forces upon us a very important question — what makes us human?

The game itself offers up three answers to this question, all of which popped up in one way or another over the course of human history:

Culture. In Traveller, over 40 planets were seeded with humanity by the Ancients. Yet, all of them are culturally similar enough that the Third Imperium encompasses most of them.

Technology. In the Traveller universe there are what are called Major Races and Minor Races. The bench mark for this differentiation is the independent discovery of Jump Drive.

Genetics. The Solomani Hypothesis states that all of the various human races seeded throughout the universe are all genetically the same species and that species originated on Earth.

Yet, just as they have been historically, all three are unsatisfactory. Culture, genetics, and technology (and the human intellect and reason that created technology) have all been used as excuses for us to designate one segment of the population as sub-human. This, in turn, has resulted in discrimination, war, murder, and genocide — all inhuman behaviors that make everyone less than human.

Christianity offers an answer to the question that encompasses culture, technology, intellect, reason, and genetics and also transcends them. That answer is found in Genesis when God creates humanity in His image and likeness. In other words, what makes us human is the ability to share in divine characteristics — love, creativity, freedom, justice — and to become like God.

By defining our humanity as the image and likeness of God, we free ourselves from the limitations of culture, technology, reason, intellect and genetics. We are faced with the reality of the radical other. As created beings we are finite with a clear and definitive beginning and end. In contrast, God is beginningless and eternal. Yet, we are endowed with His image and likeness. Throw in Christ, and we are confronted with the reality that this radical other became one of us out of love to ensure that all of creation might share in His eternity.

When we limit ourselves to culture, technology, reason, intellect and genetics, the idea of a sentient alien species wrecks havoc with our belief systems. There are countless sci-fi stories out there that abandon Christianity for this very reason. However, Christianity is not limited in this way, and is far more resilient than many understand it to be. The question we need to be asking of these sentient alien species is this: are they created in the image and likeness of God — Can they love and create? Can they value and participate in freedom and justice? Can they be transformed and become more like God? If these can be answered Yes, then they are human.

I can say this with boldness for two reasons: 1) For us to say that God cannot create sentient aliens — radical others — endowed with His image, especially when He himself (a radical other) became human, is not only is nonsensical, it is to claim that we can limit God. 2) Part of our growth as human beings is a confrontation with the other — both in the form of God Himself and the immense variety found within humanity, with all its cultures, its technology and its genetics. We are called to love the other no matter how alien or different. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if God someday decided that for our own salvation we were confronted by an alien species — a radical other — that challenged us to love His creation as He loves it. Remember, His love is not limited to humanity — He became human in order to save all of creation. This includes every sentient alien species that might exist out there.

The Third Imperium expresses this concept in a real way. It forces the issue by placing an actual human face on the first alien species humanity finds when they reach to the stars. It forces us to come to terms with our own humanity and what it means to be human, what it means to be created in the image and likeness of God and what it means to love as God loves.

Feeding the Inner Geek

One of the things I love about the simplicity of older versions of D&D (and their retro-clone equivalents) is that it is an open invitation to create house rules. Whereas this freedom is increasingly limited as the system becomes more comprehensive in later editions, OD&D actually offers up an example of a house rule — the now familiar d20 system for combat. Originally designed to be used for Chainmail, OD&D invited players to come up with their own rules to deal with in-game situations (like how to do combat when you don't own Chainmail). Recently, James over at Grognardia meditated upon the AC adjustment for individual weapons that can be found in 1eAD&D. Specifically, he invited us to understand AC as a class, instead of as a target number. This got my inner geek excited, because armor doesn't prevent you from being hit, rather it prevents you from taking damage. Allowing individual weapons to be more or less effective depending upon armor worn is a simple way to represent this.

Thus, I have taken the invitation of OD&D and of James and come up with my own house rule. Two problems arise out of the system presented in 1eAD&D that make it too cumbersome — too many weapons and too many armor classes. That latter is taken care of if you differentiate armor and a defensive (dodge) bonus. Dexterity, shields, magic and cover all make you harder to hit, therefore affect the defensive bonus. Once the shield is understood as a defensive bonus, that leaves only 4 armor classes in OD&D — platemail (3[16]), chainmail (5[14]), leather (7[12]), and none (9[10]). For purposes of this explaination I will designate them ACI-IV with ACI being platemail. These will provide a target number to do damage (NOT to be hit!) depending on what type of weapon is being used.

Comparing the AC adjustments for these four armor classes in 1eAD&D results in five discernable patterns in meleee weapons and two patterns in ranged weapns. Thus, there are five melee weapon classes (MC) and two ranged weapon classes (RC). The following table gives the target number to do damage against each armor class with each weapon class:

	ACI	ACII	ACI II	ACI V
MCI	20	16	12	9
MCII	14	13	12	11
MCIII	18	15	12	8
MCIV	18	15	12	10
MCV	14	12	10	10
RCI	19	15	12	8
RCII	16	13	10	7

ACI = Platmail
ACII = Chainmail
ACIII = Leather
ACIV = None
Shields do not affect Armor Class, rather they modify the Defensive Bonus.

MCI = Club, Dagger, Staff, Unarmed, Improvised
MCII = Flail, Mace, Military Pick, Morning Star, Warhammer
MCIII = Sword, Axe
MCIV = Spear, Javelin, Trident, Polearm
MCIV = Halberd, Lance (Charge), TH Sword

RCI = Short Bow, Sling, Thrown Wpns
RCII = Cross Bow, Long Bow, Machine (Catapult, etc.)

A player rolls a d20, adds an attack bonus based on Character Level, Strength bonus (for melee), Dexterity bonus (for ranged), and magic, and subtracts the target's defensive bonus (shield, Dexterity bouns, magic, and cover). If the result is the target number or higher, damage is done.

Attack bonuses for Character Level can be determined by either of the following tables (the first spreads bounses out over each level in a 3e fashion based on 1eAD&D to hit tables, the second more closely follows the to hit tables in older editions of D&D):

	Attack	Bonus
Level	Fighter	Cleric	MU
1	+0	+0	+0
2	+1	+0	+0
3	+2	+1	+1
4	+3	+2	+1
5	+4	+2	+2
6	+5	+3	+2
7	+6	+4	+3
8	+7	+4	+3
9	+8	+5	+4
10	+9	+6	+4
11	+10	+6	+5
12	+11	+7	+5
13	+12	+8	+6
14	+13	+8	+6
15	+14	+9	+7
16+	+15	+10	+7

	Character	Level
Attack
Bonus	Fighter	Cleric	MU
+0	1-3	1-4	1-5
+2	4-6	5-8	6-10
+5	7-9	9-12	11-15
+7	10-12	13-16	16+
+9	13-15	17+
+12	16+

The primary problem created by this system is monsters — what do you use for their armor class, their weapon class, their attack bonuses, and their defensive bonuses? A monster's armor class requires some math. Decide which class best represents the hide of the creature (i.e. leather for mammals, chain for reptiles, plate for insects or dragons). Take the base AC of the monster write-up, take the difference from 3[16] for plate, 5[14] for chain, 7[12] for leather, or 9[10] for none and use the result as a defensive bonus. For example, a Dragon with an AC of 2[17] would use ACI and have a defensive bonus of 1 (3 — 2 or 17 — 16). In another example, a Giant Fire Beetle has an AC of 4. If we determine that the insect carapace is like platemail, the difference is actually a defensive penalty of 1. If you aren't comfortable with a penalty, you can always choose to understand the carapace as more like leather or chaimail and have defensive bonuses of 3 or 1 respectively.

Weapon Classes are easier — just choose a class that best simulates the type of natural attack. For example, claws would act like swords, a rocky fist like a mace, and spikes like a spear. A manitcore's tailspikes would be like thrown weapons and a dragon's breath weapon would be like a catapault.

To determine the attack bonus of a monster, simply use their HD as their bonus with a max bonus of +15. HD less than one receive no bonus. For creatures with HD+X, such as HD 1+1, you can choose whether not to have them fight at one HD higher.

Being There

Over on Grognardia, James Maliszewski wrote:

I don't think pre-fab campaign settings need to be impediments to creation through play. Indeed, in some cases, they can be great spurs to creativity. I do think, though, that there's a danger inherent in such settings and that's the false perception that there's a "right" way to play in Tékumel or Greyhawk or Glorantha. Once this pernicious idea takes hold, you close yourself off to many terrific possibilities and contribute to the reduction of roleplaying games to an activity of passive consumption rather than active engagement no different than watching movies or television. This is the reason why analogies with those media tend to raise my hackles. It's not that I think there's anything wrong with wanting one's campaign to be as exciting and "alive" as the best movies or TV shows; it's that I don't think that worthy goal can be achieved by looking to those media as models rather than inspirations for good gaming.

This reminded me of an incident that happened back when I went to a tiny little college that was settled in the middle of a tiny little town of about five thousand people. While I was there, the local community tried to remove the book Being There by Jerzy Kosinski from the shelves of the school library. Amazingly, Kosinski came to town to defend himself, his book, and his understanding of freedom. I was privileged enough to be present when Kosinski made his defense, and his argument not only deeply moved me, but actually affected the way I understand the world.

He made the observation that fiction is the most democratic form of media. I can pick up any work of fiction anytime and anywhere I wish. I can read it at any pace I choose. I am the one who controls how I envision the world described in those pages. In contrast, newspapers determine what content I am to read. Non-fiction limits the pallet by which I can imagine what I am reading, because these are real people, in real places. Photography and painting determine exactly what it is that I am to see. Television and movies are the most autocratic of all. They determine virtually every aspect of the experience — when and where, what I see, what I hear, how I see and how I hear. Once I turn on the TV, push play, or sit down in the movie theater, I have given up control to the media. I attribute my utter refusal to see any movie on opening day weekend and a preference for watching movies and TV shows on the web or on DVD to this argument. By doing so, in some small way, I am taking back some of the control over the experience.

This argument is quite relevant to the world of RPGs and adds a layer of nuance to what James is trying to say. As James has so eloquently pointed out on his blog, RPGs used to list books to read in order to find inspiration. Now they list TV shows and movies. There is a direct correlation to the amount of freedom players have in the way these games are presented and played to these influences. Campaign settings are a unique form of media. They can act as literature or television in terms of their democracy vs. autocracy that Kosinski was speaking about. This relationship is determined entirely by how it is used. We, as gamers, can choose to use it as inspiration in order for us to freely create our own worlds, taking what we like and discarding what we don't. Or we can use them as canons to restrict not only what we ourselves do, but what anyone else can do with the material.

I am not at all surprised that old-school gaming, with its emphasis on creativity, house-rules, player freedom and sandbox campaigns is solidly rooted in literature. I am also not surprised that as TV and movies became increasingly influential on RPGs that campaign worlds became instruments of autocracy and that modern RPGs emphasize plot, story and adventure paths over creativity and player freedom.

I would be remiss if I did not reflect on how this reminds me of our own relationship with the world and sin. As beings made in the image and likeness of God, we are free beings. However, we exist in a fallen world overwhelmed by sin and death. When we ignore God and freely choose a world of sin, we concede control of ourselves to sin, in much the same way we do when we turn on a TV. It has the illusion of true freedom, but in reality we are slaves. However, when we take creation, and use it to bring it and us closer to God, we are taking control of both creation and ourselves. Our creative spirit is set free and we get to taste true freedom. Indeed, this is one the very reasons I write this blog and it is the model by which I play my games.

Erimia Campaign

I have been working on a campaign that satisfies a desire to pay homage to three influences — Pulp Fantasy, Christianity, and the Retro-Clone. I want to share some of my thinking on this campaign, and briefly outline how it interacts with its influences.

Pulp Fantasy

Alternate World: This campaign takes place on an alternate earth that shares the same basic timeline as our own up until the fall of Rome. At this point our paths diverge.

Battle in Space: The Fall of Rome coincides with a battle between two Chaotic factions of inter-galactic/inter-dimensional beings within the solar system. Several ships fall to earth as casualties in the battle.

The Great Cataclysm: During the battle, a device is used in the proximity of earth that causes a violent reaction in its crust and its energy fields. Immense earthquakes, flooding and volcanic activity devastate the planet as the crust shifts almost 90 degrees. Civilization collapses, whole environments change over night, life as we know it is forever changed. An energy field surrounds the world, flowing in constantly changing rivers of energy and pooling in more permanent energy nodes. This energy, when tapped, allows survivors to use what we call magic. The nodes provide beneficial magic, and survivors flock to the few that exist. The rivers are forces of chaos. They sweep across the earth, transforming the natural world and causing all kinds of mutations. The world is now a very dangerous place.

Alien Survivors: The ships that crashed to earth had survivors. Most of their technology is lost, and they are stranded here on earth. So, they make the best of it, and begin burrowing deep within the earth. Sometimes they wait, sometimes they conquer, sometimes they cooperate with each other, sometimes they wage the same war that brought them to earth. They are always alien, and always hate their terrestrial prison. At least one of the factions will be inspired by H.P. Lovecraft. I also love the idea that one of the aliens used to look like this.

Human Survivors: What remains of humanity lives around the few energy nodes that exist. They have built great walled cities to protect themselves from the chaos that reigns in the world outside. However, the journey through the chaos to the energy nodes has left its mark. There have been many mutations, and humanity is much more diverse than it used to be.

We are in the Future: It has taken a couple thousand years to recover from the Great Cataclysm. The technology available is akin to Medieval Europe. This allows for a fantasy setting within a classic pulp fantasy future when compared to our own earth time-line. It also ensures that all of the various elements surrounding the Great Cataclysm are distant memories, the stuff of legend, and ancient.

Christianity

The Geography of Eden: For the land of Eden, the Book of Genesis gives us a basic geography of concentric circles. At the center is the Tree of Life. Around that is a fenced garden. Around that is the plain of Eden. Beyond Eden is the the land of Nod, also known as the Wilderness, where demons live.

Metaphoric Geography: The campaign world is modeled after the concentric circles of Eden. At the center is the energy node, which gives life to those in its proximity. Around the node is the City, a walled metropolis ever watchful for attacks from the outside world. Around the City is a plain, kept open and free by the soldiers of the City to enable a clear view of any invading monsters that crawl out of the Wilderness. This Wilderness, where monsters, demons, and creatures of chaos live, lies beyond the plain.

Monasticism: The name of the campaign, Erimia, is derived from the Greek for wilderness or desert. It is also the origin of the word hermit. In the Christian tradition, the first monastics were hermits who wandered out into the desert in order to combat demons where they lived. To carry the metaphoric geography to the PCs, they become these hermits — they are the first adventurers who seek to confront the monsters where they live.

St. Basil the Great: At the time of the Fall of Rome, the liturgy of St. Basil was commonplace in Eastern Christendom. The Anaphora of St. Basil makes this statement:

Through Him the Holy Spirit was manifested, the spirit of truth the gift of Sonship, the pledge of our future inheritance, the first fruits of eternal blessings, the life giving power, the source of sanctification through whom every rational and spiritual creature is made capable of worshiping You and giving You eternal glorification, for all things are subject to You.

I wish to highlight the words every rational and spiritual creature. This demonstrates that Christianity is easily adaptable to include beings that are non-human into its fold and is immune to destruction in the face of intelligent life from another planet. Thus, as humanity mutates, Christians are the most likely to welcome those who are different. Historically this is demonstrable. When plagues hit major population centers in the ancient world, pagans with the means to do so fled, leaving the poor and sick to die. When the plague ran its course, they returned. In contrast, Christians stayed and nursed the sick no matter the race, color or creed.

Thus, it is the Christians who come out of the Great Cataclysm in the best shape. It is Christianity that forms the foundation upon which the City is built. It is Christianity that has allowed humanity to survive in all its mutated diversity.

Retro-Clones

Mutant Future: This campaign is in many ways inspired by Section 9 of Mutant Future. The controlled gonzo effect of this attempt at making it possible to place Mutant Future characters in the middle of a fantasy setting is very much the tone I want for this campaign. Both Mutant Humans and Replicants will be available as PC classes, and Mutant Future's rules on exposure to radiation can be easily adapted for use with exposure to the chaotic energy rivers of the Wilderness. Additionally, with all of the various mental mutations available, Mutant Future makes it easy to create Psionic special effects without having to come up with or use a Psionic system.

Labyrinth Lord: Although I prefer the simplicity of Swords & Wizardry, which invites the use of house rules, for this campaign I will use the Labyrinth Lord rule-set. Mutant Future was built upon these rules. Thus, using large chunks of Mutant Future material will require little or no conversion.

Sandbox: This campaign is designed very specifically to be a classic hex and dungeon crawl. The Wilderness is vast and ready to explore. Housed within the Wilderness are dungeons — ruins from past civilizations, abandoned outposts of alien survivors, and dwelling places of things dark and evil. In order that the metaphor of monasticism and Eden be consistent, the City must remain a safe haven without conflict or adventure possibilities. There are no politics to be had, no plots to uncover, no puppet master pulling strings. The adventure is always out in the Wilderness. The adventurer is always fighting the monsters where they live.

Expedition to the Barrier Peaks: This is one pf my favorite modules of all time. The way this module blends genres is exactly the pulp feel I want for this campaign. The retro-clone movement allows me to ask the question, what if this kind of adventure was more popular or common in the D&D universe? Though not representative of every dungeon that lies in the wilderness beyond the City, there will be more than one opportunity to encounter the remnants of the space battle that created this age.

Am I a Grognard?

I have to admit that I have stumbled into what appears to me to be a magnificent era for RPGs. I have been off the radar, so to speak, for a number of years. My playing days went on hiatus for four years while I went back to school, and even before that I failed to jump onto the 3.0 bandwagon. Thus, until recently, I was completely unaware of the OGL and the veritable garden it has produced. For me, the most exciting (and unexpected) aspect of this flowering of the D&D system has been the advent of the retro-clones. God bless Don Proctor, Stuart Marshall, Matt Finch and all of the others who have so lovingly produced their visions of the game I played as a kid. The variety of choice we now have today for the game we love to play is incredible. I only hope that there is enough support and growth out there to support this lush field that I find myself in.

I have also stumbled across a term that I find fascinating — the grognard. It is a term, I must admit, that greatly appeals to me, and I wonder if I deserve the mantle. I played war games before I role played. I was heavily involved in miniature war games just prior to going back to school because I had no desire to play 3rd edition. I own the original edition Chainmail and have actually played it. However, my introduction to D&D was the Holmes edition, and I jumped onto the AD&D bandwagon long before I ever found the OD&D ruleset, which I do own, but never played. There are aspects of the 3.0 and 3.5 rulesets I do enjoy, intellectually. However, the next game I ever Referee (yes, Referee), I will insist on using Swords & Wizardry, Labyrinth Lord, or OSRIC in that order of preference. Regardless of which edition I use, I will seriously consider stealing some of the mechanics used by Jason Vey's Spellcraft & Swordplay, especially his take on Vancian magic, as it is inspired by the magic system of Chainmail.

Does this make me a grognard? In a way, yes. However, behind the term "grognard" is a way of doing things and living a life that are the very things that years ago attracted me to Orthodox Christianity.

Orthodoxy has a deep respect for the past, for the wisdom of those who came before, and is loathe to change for the sake of change. However, it does take what has been given it and engages the culture around it to see how that encounter can transform the culture and enrich what has come before. If I may be so bold, this is exactly what the term grognard and the retro-clone movement are all about (or at least should be about). If this is so, I was a grognard in the way I live my everyday life, long before it became a term that describes my gaming inclinations. If this is so, I embrace the term whole-heartedly.

Here There Be Monsters

In discussing monsters, I feel it necessary to actually ask the question: What is a monster? Being an Orthodox Christian, to answer this question, I'd like to go to Scripture and one of the original languages of Scripture, Greek. Looking up the word "monster" in a Greek dictionary reveals the word teras. I never trust language dictionaries when only going from English to another language, so I went to my handy Liddel & Scott Greek-English Lexicon, which gives teras two definitions:

1) a sign, wonder, marvel
2) in a concrete sense, a monster

These two definitions are not unrelated. There are other words in Greek that denote signs, wonders, and marvels. The word teras, being related to the English word terror, indicates that the sign, wonder or marvel brings with it a sense of fear.

Teras is not used in the New Testament, but is found in Greek Translations of the Old Testament. It is used to denote the revelatory aspect of certain events — the event somehow reveals that God makes concrete decisions in the present, that He is in control, and these affect not only the present, but the future. In other words, they are frightening events that remind us that God is the master and creator of the universe, not us. I find this fascinating because of the ramifications it has on role-playing.

In my own experience, the most terrifying opponents in RPGs are humans. The reason for this two-fold. Firstly, having humans as the primary bad guys engenders fear and paranoia because they are not easily identifiable. Whereas an orc is easy to spot, an evil human can be anywhere and be anyone. The second, and more important for this discussion, is that they serve as mirrors — they reflect back at us what is worst in us.

In Orthodox Christian theology, this revelation of sin is understood to be a blessing. It allows us to take control of what is sinful in us, and repent — turn back towards God. This is an unending process that continues until we die and has been compared to purifying gold with fire.

For the purposes of D&D, monsters can be understood as the concrete consequences of sin. God, being creator of everything, including monsters, allows them to exist in order for us to come face-to-face with our own sins — to confront our own monsters and demons, as it were. This brings to life one of my favorite passages from the OT — Genesis 4:6-7 (NJB):

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

The word for "sin" in the Hebrew denotes a demon or a monster waiting to devour. This is a marvelous image of our life-long struggle with sin.

Also related to this image is the monastic tradition of Orthodox Christianity. In the Hebrew mind, the desert or wilderness was where demons lived. Thus, monastics would wonder into the deserts and wilderness in order to take on the demons in their own territory — to be that expeditionary force to tame the wilds for the rest of us.

This image, of course, brings to mind the traditional dungeon crawl and hex crawl of old-school D&D. It also reinforces the idea that PCs are that part of civilization whose calling is to go out into the wilderness to confront the demons and monsters in their own territory. In doing so, we are confronted by our own sin and are afforded an opportunity to turn back towards God.

Let me give you a concrete example. One of my all-time favorite pulp authors is H.P. Lovecraft and my favorite monsters in D&D are those that pay homage to Lovecraft's dark vision. For me, these grotesque, hungry, consuming, terrifying creatures and their call represent what awaits creation without God. At the heart of Lovecraft is this sense of inevitable decay, madness and destruction from beyond. At the heart of Orthodox theology is the belief that God created everything from nothing. Without God, all of creation will return to nothing. Lovecraft's call of Cthulu is a personification of this reality. Thus, in terms of D&D, an adventure where PCs enter into a dungeon controlled by Cthulu-inspired monsters is a concrete expression of our own struggle against the nothingness that awaits us if we do not have God to sustain us into eternity.

In other words, these are teras — they are frightening events that reveal to us God and that without Him, we are doomed to the creeping nothing embodied by Lovecraft's horrific visions.

A Guy Named Nestorius

Recently, James Maliszewiski wrote a nice piece on how Christianity was implicit in early D&D. What I found fascinating was not the implicit Christianity (D&D did come out of a Medieval European combat simulator, afterall), but was this:

Gary Gygax . . . explained that he felt it unseemly to include anything too explicitly Christian in a mere game, even if he assumed a kind of quasi-Christian or crypto-Christian underpinning for the whole thing.

In my experience, Gygax is fairly representative of the gaming community — that to explicitly include God in the equation is uncomfortable, odd, or downright blasphemous. I find it ironic (and not a little telling) that this discomfort has contributed to a trajectory that has led to polytheism being explicitly expressed in the game system. That gamers have no problem with various iterations of pagan gods, but hesitate to include the Christian God because D&D is a game, suggests that gamers implicitly understand pagan gods are fictitious whereas the Christian God is very real.

As an Orthodox Christian, this phenomenon reminds me very much of a guy named Nestorius. The word "dogma" in modern America has a lot of baggage, and is seen by many to be a bad word. However, Orthodoxy has long understood that belief systems have consequences — they result in behavior. This behavior, in turn, reveals what we really believe.

During the 5th century, Nestor was a priest whose teachings attempted

to rationally explain and understand the incarnation of the divine Logos, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity as the man Jesus Christ. Nestorianism teaches that the human and divine essences of Christ are separate and that there are two persons, the man Jesus Christ and the divine Logos, which dwelt in the man. Thus, Nestorians reject such terminology as "God suffered" or "God was crucified", because they believe that the man Jesus Christ suffered. Likewise, they reject the term Theotokos (Giver of birth to God) for the Virgin Mary, using instead the term Christotokos (giver of birth to Christ) or Anthropotokos (giver of birth to a man). — http://orthodoxwiki.org/Nestorianism

This is in contrast to the Orthodox understanding that Christ is perfect God and perfect man; that the divinity and humanity in Christ are two natures in one person; and that these two natures do not change, are not confused with one another, cannot be divided into isolated categories, nor be separated in terms of area or function.

These different understandings of Christ result in different kinds of behavior. Nestorianism results in the compartmentalization of life — one's work life is cut off from one's home life which is cut off from one's recreational life which is cut of from one's religious life. This results in a kind of schizophrenia, where one becomes a different person for every aspect of their life. I actually know of a guy who politically claims to be a communist, who religiously claims to be Christian, and economically is a ruthless, exploitive capitalist. This schizophrenia allows us to justify destructive behaviors, because we believe that the behavior of one aspect of our lives does not affect the others. This, of course, is an illusion.

In contrast, the Orthodox understanding of Christ leads us towards a holistic understanding of the human person, where everything we do affects every aspect of our lives. Thus, Gygax's notion that including Christianity in a mere game is unseemly makes little sense to my Orthodox mind. My belief in Christ must necessarily inform my role playing. One of the reasons I feel more comfortable with older versions of D&D is that the game system, by implicitly assuming Christianity, makes this possible. As we have increasingly put D&D into a box, trying to isolate it from this aspect of its heritage by systemically requiring polytheism, the more schizophrenic it has become.

We have been given the illusion of freedom — more choices for creating characters, creating monsters, creating magic items, etc. However, since all of these creative processes have been systematized, we are far from free of doing things in our own unique way. If we don't follow certain paths, we've thrown the game out of balance and/or broken the game. I cannot speak for 4e, as I have not actually read or played the game. However, judging from the reactions of many people about the game, its affinity to video games and for reducing every aspect of the game to a formula does not bode well for a systemic support of freedom and creativity.

From my own Orthodox perspective, this does not surprise me. God is ultimately free. He has made us in His image and likeness, thus giving us freedom. When we freely choose to bring Christ into every aspect of our lives, we experience His freedom. When we freely choose to deny him from any aspect of our lives, we step into the illusory world of sin and darkness. We imagine that we are free, but we are limited by our passions, our sins, and our fallen nature.

This is the very reason I freely choose to embrace the Christian roots of the game of D&D, and carry it through into my own gaming experience.

Whys and Wherefores

Back in in my 70s childhood, I was given the Holmes Boxed set of D&D. This singular event set me on a course of events that has very largely made me who I am. Let me be very upfront. I am a devout Orthodox Christian. Having played D&D and RPGs of every stripe, throughout the last 4 decades (!), I am acutely aware that D&D and Christianty have a history. I vividly remember going through the list of 10 warning signs that your child might be a Satanist with my friends. We laughed ourselves silly, because we wouldn't have touched a Satanist cult with a 10 foot pole, and yet qualified for 8 or 9 of the warning signs, not the least of which was playing D&D. However, it must be acknowledged that a lot of the pulp fiction that inspired D&D is at best unconcerned with religion and at worst has a polythesitic bent. This bent was not explicit in OD&D (as a matter of fact, Christianity was implicit as James Maliszewski has recently pointed out), but it did make its way into the game over time. Starting with AD&D 2nd Edition, the game I love systemically supported, and even required a polythesitic world view. This has only gotten worse over time. As an Orthodox Christian, it is something that I lament and have been increasingly uncomfortable with.

This discomfort, however, is tempered by the reality that D&D is one of the reasons I am an Orthodox Christian in the first place. The game sparked in me a fascination in medieval European history that had me jumping at the chance to study in Russia, Estonia and Hungary. It was while wandering the streets of Moscow that I first ecountered Orthodoxy. It was while searching out a medieval castle in southern Hungary that I felt the shockwaves of bombs dropping during the Yugoslavian civil war. These bomb shattered me, in ways that I am still recovering from. It has been my faith that has allowed me to start putting the pieces back together. This trajectory proves a point made by Alexander Schmemann:

In the Christian worldview, matter is never neutral. If it is not "referred to God," i.e. viewed and used as a means of communion with Him, of life in Him, it becomes the very bearer and locus of the demonic. — Of Water & the Spirit, pg. 48.

D&D is not by nature evil. In my life, it has been a great blessing. I allowed it to point me towards God. Through D&D Christ came into my life, and that has been huge. Whether or not something is good or evil depends on how we use it.

Thus we come to the reason for this blog. I fully realize that when the words "Dungeons and Dragons" are mentioned, a lot of Christians cringe. I also know that the same is true of many RPGers who hear the word "Christianity." I hope to stand firmly with one foot in the world of D&D and another in the world of my faith and thus reduce the number of cringes in both worlds. I still love D&D. I still love the culture, the people, the game. And I am a Christian. So, I will muse on how Christianity informs my view of D&D, how I play it and how the two can affect each other in a positive way. Enjoy.