Go Long

Eh. I really don't have time for this. But....

So, I was reading this post by Mr. Maliszewski the other day, as well as its associated links. All things considered it feels a little disjointed which is (perhaps) understandable given his focus at the moment on his current writing project. I can dig that.

Still. It bears a response.

There are RPGs and there are RPGs. And in addition there is Dungeons & Dragons. I think it's important to understand how distinct these things are from each other...and from a fiction franchise like the ones described in James's article. Whether you're talking Star Wars or Game of Thrones or whatever, such things are simply settings designed to TELL STORIES. Specifically, to tell a particular story. 

In the case of Star Wars (for example) we're talking about the "story" of Luke Skywalker, from his humble beginnings to his heroic triumph over the forces of evil. The setting of the Star Wars universe...including both its interplanetary geography, its history/timeline, its imagined "culture," its cast of characters, its pseudo-religions, etc....all exist specifically as BACKDROP for the story being told. They provide a rich and (for many folks) inviting tapestry that intrigues and engages the imagination, but they are only as important as they apply to the story at hand. That there is room enough in the setting to tell other stories (the rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker, for example, or the story of parental love and identity found in The Mandalorian series) is evidence of the broad consistency and richness of its fantasy landscape. 

[I'd be tempted to say the same about the various book series set in the Star Wars universe, except that A) I've read almost none of them, and B) what I have read all seems to be filled/fraught with blatant "fanservice," in the same annoying fashion as most of the cinematic installments in the franchise history]

Similar statements could be said of Martin's ASoFaI series except that it is far more limited in scope, being (for the most part) medieval mudcore with extremely limited fantasy elements often subverted (especially in the teleplay) to visual porn (both of violence and sexuality).

[I say that as someone who is a fan of the series and who has found it fascinating in spite of its more prurient elements. In other words, not trying to hate, just calling it like I see it]

Franchises...whether you're talking Lucas and Martin or the ones created by Roddenberry, Herbert, Rowling, Tolkien, Clancy, etc....all have something in common: they have become a means of generating reliable income for their producers (either the creators or those who hold the IP) because of their built-in fan/customer base. Every installment of the franchise...whether it be a book, a movie, a TV show, or some example of lifestyle branding/signaling (t-shirts, merch, etc.)...becomes an investment destined to yield a rich return. When Disney allows some company to create coffee mugs with superheroes branded on it, you can be sure that they are reaping some sort of royalty return, even as they allow the cup company to make money themselves (and continue promoting their franchise). Every franchise is a money-making cash cow designed to milk fan loyalty. Pure and simple. This is what the capital behind the franchise is (excuse the pun) banking on.

But D&D is a game, not a franchise.

At least the D&D I play. Unlike certain RPGs that are based on specific, story-based IP (think: most Chaosium RPGs, many "trad" RPGs of the 90s, etc.) D&D invites players to create THEIR OWN WORLD...their own campaign...in which to play the game. Unless you're going to buy into a specific piece of setting IP (say, DragonLance or Greyhawk or whatever), the game you run is your own...with no story involved.

Which is important! Stories have beginnings and (generally speaking, Mr. Martin) endings as well. As such, they are designed to stop. That corporations (it is always corporations of some sort) decide to turn a story into a money-making franchise does not change this essential fact. Luke Skywalker's story is over, once it's told. So is the story of succession for the Iron Throne (once the matter is decided). It is a LOT harder to find reasons to create adventures in a setting/world for which the major events have already been chronicled. 

Not impossible mind you. Creative minds will find a way.

But not all RPGs are created equally. Dungeons & Dragons doesn't come with a built in setting. Instead, it provides a set of rules for playing a game. Individual Dungeon Masters are the parties responsible for creating their worlds/settings. And with a focus on that (i.e. world creation) why would anyone ever tire of their campaign?

DMs are not storytellers. We are lords of creation. We are gods.

D&D is not played with an end goal in mind. Yes there are "win" (and "loss") conditions built into the system; yes, there are objectives of play. But these are of secondary importance to the experiential nature of play itself. DMs do not create stories; DMs create worlds. And then they run those worlds using the rules of the game.  

Some might say that any confession that an RPG (especially one not tied to a specific setting or fiction franchise) could, eventually, be "played out" shows a distinct lack of creativity. As was pointed out to me the other day, a piano has only 88 keys, and yet people continue to find ways to create new music with those same keys, even after centuries of use. And that's only using two hands! How many more combinations of situations can one create with a Monster Manual and a blank sheet of graph paper? How many more iterations can you have with multiple human players, each bringing their own experiences and personalities to the table?

I am certain there are those who look at the game of AD&D...the game I've yet to tire of after 40-odd years...and say, what a boring game. What a boring premise. Killing monsters and getting gold. How long can that stay exciting? How long till that grows tiresome? I am certain of this because people have said as much to me...more than once.

And yet most of us have had the experience of having to "work for a living." Even those of us blessed with an exciting, fulfilling job/career/vocation have known days that were humdrum and boring, or challenging in non-fun ways...dealing with irate clients and unresponsive vendors and the fluctuation of markets affected by the stupid, stupid actions of an utterly corrupt and incompetent American president. 

Isn't it nice to have an escape to a world where your problems can be solved with a sword or a magic spell? Isn't it fun to have some pulse-pounding, adrenaline surging excitement that doesn't end in real world injury...or even sore muscles? And for the creative individual, isn't it nice to have an ENTIRE UNIVERSE to shape and mold as you please, and to share that universe with our fellow humans, astounding them with pulse-pounding, adrenaline surging experiences?

There is a deeper game beyond the surface play one first discovers as a kid opening a boxed "basic set" of D&D...but one only finds it if they spend the time and effort to grow and develop their game. Just as we, humans, grow and develop ourselves.  We need to stop selling ourselves short.

Go long.

 

Of Dragons And Elves

Moving right along...

Probably should have drawn some attention to Prince of Nothing's second installment of his No ArtPunk contest. My adventure was able to crack the Top 5 this year (though I believe a late entry knocked it down to #6), so...guess what?...it's going in the compilation book. Which is pretty cool but means that UNlike last year's offering (Hell's Own Temple) I will not be offering the thing for free on my blog: pick up the compilation when it arrives (hopefully before New Year) and Pay What You Will to the charity Prince designated.

One thing I like about the contest (besides an excuse to write adventures and a chance to test myself against other designers) is the opportunity it affords to discuss various aspects of "adventure design." In fact, one commenter suggested I blog my own thoughts and stipulations on how to write adventures...and someday, hopefully, I will (actually, I started writing such a post last month; still in draft form).

But TODAY, I want to come back to the "world building" thing. I've been thinking a lot about world building lately...mainly due, I think, to the shows I've been watching: Andor (Star Wars), House of the Dragon (GRRM), and Rings of Power (Tolkien). I could write (long) blog posts on every one of these series, but for today's purpose I just want to talk about how each one expresses a different fictional world/universe of its creator(s)...fictional worlds in which fans of these shows are, more or less, fully invested.

Hmm...quick aside: I have also been rereading The Silmarillion because I wanted to refresh my memory of Tolkien's Second Age as the RoP series seems "off" (and it is, and I'm not a fan of the liberties the show has taken with Tolkien's timeline. OTOH, modifications like racially diverse fairy creatures and warrior elf women bother me zero. The Silmarillion is, of course, a tour de force of world building, and might as well be an alternate reality compared to the TV series' version.

But let's leave Tolkien's book out of the mix for a moment, because it is DIFFERENT from these other examples of world building...and not just because "text" is a different medium from "television." 

The thing is: all of these TV examples of built worlds exist and are written/created for a very specific purpose: to tell stories. Multiple stories, actually, BUT, still: very specific stories. 

Andor is the story of one man's rise to being a top agent in a guerrilla war against a tyrannical Empire. Side stories include the formation of rebellion, the Empire's response to rebellion, and individual character arcs and side-stories.

House of the Dragon is the story of the Westeros civil war between competing branches of the ruling family. It's not very much different from any other "family drama" centered around the rich and powerful (The Sopranos, Succession, Monarch, Vikings, Blue Bloods, Big Love, etc., etc.). Side stories are generally limited to individual character arcs, all of which contribute to describing individual personalities that fuel the family's struggle against itself.

Rings of Power is the story of how Amazon attempted to recoup its $250 million investment in an established IP with a built-in fan base. Ha! Just kidding. No, it's the story of how a one-time on-line book dealer made a push to become a corporate media giant on par with the Disneys of the world, and attempting to maintain a step ahead of AppleTV.

Okay, no, let's be serious for a moment. Rings of Power is a bit of a mess...and not simply because it makes hackwork of Tolkien's rich and thoughtful world crafting. Mm. I really wasn't going to talk about this, but it's at least a little pertinent. Ostensibly, the RoP series is about...well, nothing really. Just Middle Earth before the Peter Jackson LotR films. Does everyone know what a premise is? Here's a good definition:

The premise of a text such as a book, film, or screenplay is the initial state of affairs that drives the plot. Most premises can be expressed very simply, and many films can identified simply from a short sentence describing the premise. Examples: a lonely boy is befriended by an alien; a small town is terrorized by a shark; a small boy sees dead people. 

That's from Ye Old Wikipedia. Here's what the Wik quotes for the premise of Rings of Power:

Set thousands of years before the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, the series is based on author J. R. R. Tolkien's history of Middle-earth. It begins during a time of relative peace and covers all the major events of Middle-earth's Second Age: the forging of the Rings of Power, the rise of the Dark Lord Sauron, the fall of the island kingdom of Númenor, and the last alliance between Elves and Men.^[1] These events take place over thousands of years in Tolkien's original stories but are condensed for the series.^[2]

See, that's not a premise. That's just a description of what you're going to get in the show: fan service for (film-)Tolkien-philes. Sweeping vistas of New Zealand. Funny/lovable hobbits. Badass elves slaying orcs because they're so fast and agile ('cause being big and strong is never an advantage, right?). Dwarves in amazing subterranean set-pieces. Fantasy languages being spoken fluently. Men of iron and honor and stout hearts and great facial hair. Call backs to the popular films and name drops for the true Tolkien nerds out there (like myself). Etc, etc.

But there's no single story here. We have multiple points of views, multiple "things going on," and the only thing tenuously tying it together is the fact that it's all set in Tolkein's universe. That's it! Elrond hanging with the dwarves. Galadriel on her personal quest. Elf dude and his forbidden love. Human mother-son tandem dealing with orcs. Numenorean family dealing with their own shit. Other Numenorean family dealing with other unrelated shit. Proto-hobbits struggling to survive. Dwarves dealing with THEIR issues. Evil elves looking for Sauron. Gil-Galad's elves are withering. I mean...*sigh*.

Look, let's talk about three fairly successful TV series that including multiple POV characters with multiple "story arcs:" Lost, Downton Abbey, and Game of Thrones. In all three cases there is a central premise that UNITES all the characters and stories together: a hub around which the spokes of the wheel rotates. For Lost, it's that all these different, distinct people with distinct agendas are trapped on a mysterious island. In Downton Abbey, for both the aristocrats upstairs and the servants downstairs, their lives revolve around the enormous manor house (Downton) in which they live and work. For Game of Thrones, you have three distinct families (the Starks, Lannisters, and Targaryans) all vying for rulership of Westeros.

[that IS what GoT is about in the end: the Targaryan queen's conquest of the eastern continent is just a step in her grand strategy to take back the Iron Throne. The Lannister's protection of their house and fight with the Starks is just their desire to maintain their hold on the Throne. And the Stark's war of revenge with the Lannisters? What do you figure is their endgame if they win? Of course, they'd take the throne! What else would they do? Even the whole "white walker" storyline is secondary to this (Jon Snow's quest to unite the realm against the undead is just another form of conquest through diplomacy). There's a constant thread throughout the show of individuals seeking to climb higher and higher, hoping (eventually) to end up on the Throne, at the pinnacle of power]

Rings of Power has...nothing. It's just sightseeing in Middle Earth (with occasional...and brief...side-treks to Numenor and Valinor). Storylines are ramped up for drama value...and then connected only by the barest of coincidence, often feeling forced or contrived (both adjectives aptly applied). Please understand: I'm not decrying the acting or direction or editing or dialogue or fight choreography or anything. Just the overall story/writing/plotting of the show. You can praise the reimagining (or bitch about the mangling) of Tolkien's mythology, but as a television series, the show lacks a solid, unifying theme, except maybe "life is inexplicably hard in Middle Earth despite the conspicuous lack of a Dark Lord threatening everyone."

Seriously! This is the time between Morgoth's dominion and Sauron's ascendancy and the various peoples of ME are worse off and more stressed than Jackson's free peoples? Whaaaat? Are you just trying to drum up drama here, showrunners?

[probably, because...again...there's no central premise/story here]

Contrast that with The Silmarillion (just to come back to that): the point of Tolkien's opus was to create a rich mythology of England that could...in some other reality...stand as an alternate, prehistoric history, explaining both the existence of fairytale creatures and the evolution of the English language (and nicely paralleling Tolkien's Catholic belief system). But it is mythology...it is a creation story, a fiction along the lines of the Judaic Genesis, albeit with elves and dragons. It is not literature...it is not a novel. It is an imagined story of the world, not for the world (i.e. the reader). When Tolkien does spin a yard (as in his Lord of the Rings trilogy) it is around a unified premise and plot, even when the text is split between multiple point of view narratives: the book may jump from Gondor to Rohan to Mordor, but everyone is still talking about The Ring and the war against Sauron, right?

All right, JB: so what's the point here? What does any of THIS have to do with world building for Dungeons & Dragons?

So, all right...I'm assuming here that you're already on the same page as me as far as the absolute importance of world building, at least so far as it comes to running a rich and satisfying, long-term campaign that both the DM and players can invest in and engage with (if you're not there yet, um, none of this will probably matter to you...). When most of us sit down to "build a world" we're constructing it from an eclectic variety of sources: real world history and geography, mythology, and (of course) fiction, fantastical or otherwise. For folks who are initially drawn to D&D through fantasy serials...like Tolkien or Martin, for instance, or the "space fantasy" of George Lucas...inspiration is likely to come from these sources.

And yet the world building that goes into MOST literature (and its television adaptations) is there in order to serve the needs of the story. Hobbits are present because the author wants to show the triumph of the humble everyman over The Wise or The Impossibly Powerful Evil. Luke Skywalker grows up on a humble backwater planet in a run-down galaxy (rather than some sort of Philip K. Dick urban sprawl) to draw parallels with similar hero stories of the Kid-From-The-Sticks being pulled into the Wider World. Martin has White Walkers and dragons because he's a big D&D nerd and wants to do this Fire/Ice contrast thing against a pseudo-War of the Roses fantasy retelling. The setting (i.e. the world the author has built) only needs to be as  solidly constructed as it is useful to the storytelling.

But D&D is not about telling stories (stop me if you've heard this before). It is a game of fantasy adventure. The rules of the system are there to facilitate play of that game...and the act of game play is an experiential one (okay, I know I've written that before). And because of that, because players are experiencing the world through their surrogates (i.e. their characters), it must have enough verisimilitude to facilitate that experience. Which is probably DEEPER world construction than what an author (or show runner) requires for the telling of a story.

Let's say you're playing an adventure scenario that features a small village (call it a hundred or so souls) with a small. three-level dungeon nearby. The party wants to hire some meat...er, "extra swordsmen"...to bolster their numbers. The party is circa 5th level with a well-stocked war chest, and can offer each man 10 or 20 or 25 gold pieces per day (in addition to arming them)...more money than a farmer might expect to earn in a month or more (depending on your fantasy economy). 

[FYI: 1 day of grain for a horse in AD&D is one silver piece. An active, 1000 pound horse eats about 9 pounds of grain (in addition to grazing)...so let's call it 10 pounds of grain per silver or 200 pounds of grain per gold piece. A medieval farm was about 30 acres on average and would produce 7-15 bushels of grain per acre (60 pounds per bushel). SO: 1 average farm produces an annual yield of (11 x 30) = 330 bushels = 19,800 pounds = 99 g.p. worth of grain annually or 8.25 g.p. per month. However, in a poor year that yield might drop to less than 4 bushels per acre...which would produce (on average) less than 7,200 pounds of grain. That's an annual return of under 36 gold pieces (3 gold pieces per month!)]

So all these strapping lads...and adult farmers suffering from a poor harvest (or who have been a victim of raids from the humanoids in the nearby dungeon) jump at the chance to earn hard coin carrying a sword, regardless of the danger. After all, everyone has a price...when the price gets high enough, you'll get your red shirts to line up. And the party does. And they go into the dungeon and all the hired swords get butchered. Then the party returns to the village, rich with treasure, and offer MORE money for swords...and get them. And then those 0-level "warriors" get gutted in the next foray. And then they return again. And again. And again.

At what point does the village run out of strong backs? At what point have enough able-bodied farmers get slaughtered that there's no one left to bring in the harvest...forcing the abandonment of the village and/or the starvation of the populace?

Without world building, new cardboard cutouts sprog from the countryside as often as needed. With world building, the resource of hirelings becomes another challenge to be solved. Especially if the DM is on the ball and giving the people actual personalities. Families wondering what ditch Dad or Brother Bill or Sister Sue ended up dying in, and whether or not this band of rich adventurers actually deserve praise for their actions or...rather...scorn and eventual lynching.

Back to Tolkien...real Tolkien, not "Amazon Tolkien"...for a second. It's often been said that Middle Earth, despite its richness is not a great setting for an adventure campaign specifically because so much of the world's "story" and history has already been told by Tolkien himself. That there is no room for "new heroes" in a world that already contains Frodo and Bilbo, Aragorn and Gandalf, Beren and Luthien, etc.

I do not disagree with the sentiment, only with its reasoning. The fact is: Tolkien's world is not ROBUST enough to facilitate D&D. Even going back and using the earlier Ages found in The Silmarillion. Look at how few people enter into the stories: a tiny handful of families. Three branches of the Edain. A half dozen elvish clans. A couple-three instances of human-elf mating. Maybe a dozen dwarf families and twice that in Hobbiton.

Our world...our REAL world...has hundreds and thousands and millions of stories that could be told of individuals and families, even if you confine your setting to limited regions and periods of history. That's because there are far more people in our world than in Tolkien's. Prior to 1500 CE, the population of Europe (a geographic region about on par with Middle Earth) accounted for 10% of the world population and hovered right around the 25 million mark from the 1st-10th centuries. Tolkien's population has been estimated as never getting much beyond 20-30% of that range (here's a true Tolkien nerd who's done his best to calculate pop. figures from the professor's text). JRR's world, for all its rich history and thoughtful crafting, is a very small world and far less densely populated than our own.

Which, by the way, is FINE because it is a setting that he uses to tell his stories. But D&D is not a system for telling stories.

[and just as one more aside: the fact that Middle Earth is SMALL is not a knock on Tolkien's world building. If you want to look at poorly designed worlds, you need look no farther than Martin's Westeros]

And THAT, more or less, is the point: any fictional setting one creates is FINE if the whole point is to facilitate the telling of stories. A descendant of the last King of Gondor claiming a 3000-year empty throne after a tremendous victory over Satan's lieutenant? Good theater, absolutely...the fridge logic only becomes apparent when one starts contemplating the ramifications of such a political ascent. And that "good theater" thing isn't good enough for Dungeons & Dragons.

Because D&D isn't a book you close. Or a film with credits that run. 

Ideally, your D&D campaign is something you continually come back to. It is a fictional world in which you "live" (through your various characters) experiencing all the wonders and perils the setting has to offer.

All right, that should be enough scribbling/meandering for now. The only other thing I'd add is that ALL of these shows I've mentioned (yes, including Rings of Power) have given me enjoyment in the watching (some to a greater degree than others) and many hours of fantasy entertainment. And all have likewise been useful to some degree: things that I'd like to borrow/use in my own game, and/or pitfalls I'd like to avoid. 

Whimsy

Weird dreams this morning, right before waking: was watching "young people" (late teens, early twenties) live their lives in small towns. Places like you find in central and eastern Washington: Ritzville, Winthrope, Leavenworth, Cle Elum maybe. Having fun with each other but mainly complaining about where they lived and how they wanted to get out or get back (to college, presumably) to somewhere more interesting. "The deadest part of my week has been my time spent here, except for my shift" one girl complained to her friends as they worked the kitchen of some eatery...maybe a summer job, earning money off the city tourists traveling to Chelan (or wherever) to get away from their rat-race life.

I've never lived in a small town. I've visited them often enough, seen them in film (of course), had friends and relatives who lived in or were from small towns. I have no idea what it's really like (and, of course, each town is different) and my views are surely biased by the folks I've talked to who wanted to get away...obviously, small towns continue to exist and have (small) populations so SOME people enjoy living there. Other people were not made for (or meant for) the life into which they were born. My mother wasn't...she moved to "the big city" (Seattle) from Missoula when she was 18. Neither was my wife, who escaped via travel (as an exchange student) multiple times before she met me.

Me, I was meant for the town I live in. Oh, I don't always feel that way...there are plenty of times when I find Seattlites to be annoying as hell, and understand why some parts of the country hate our particular piece of the American pie. I get it, and I sometimes feel like a man out of place, even here. The concerns some folks have (which aren't real concerns) or their approach to concerns I share, or their attitude towards...oh, any number of things. Stupid, stupid Seattle. And, no, it's not just the transplants from other parts of the country (we've had a lot of those the last 30 years)...there was stupid here even since my youth. I've had a few good friends, living here, and they've been evenly divided between "natives" (like myself) and "newbies" (people who moved here less than 25 years ago). 

[if you're not a native, but have lived here more than 25 years, you're simply considered a "local"]

Thank goodness for the internet where I have been able to interact with many more like-minded people. I assume they're "like-minded" because the only thing I have access to IS their mind: their thoughts spilling out on pages and blog posts just as mine do. Sure, it's possible that some are lying or crazy or whatnot ("Mama, we ALL crayzee here") but most of what I read tends to have a good measure of "soul baring," making for a decent window into someone's brain. Beware the persons unwilling to discuss their personal connections to the material they're discussing!

One gamer dude blog I've been reading a lot of recently (the last year or three...tough to keep track of that kind o thing) has been Prince of Nothing over at Age of Dusk. I like Prince's writing, I enjoy his (rather dark) sense of humor, I appreciate (much of) his stance with regard to gaming. Based on several strong reviews, I picked up print copies of his adventures The Red Prophet Rises and The Palace of Unquiet Repose. 

Eh.

I am weary. I am old. I am curmudgeonly. Know This O Prince, and take what I have to say with a grain of salt: I will probably not be running these adventures. 

I understand that I am technically a part of "the OSR" or whatever, but these days that's about as meaningful as saying "I'm into tabletop role-playing games." The OSR is a very large pond...as is Dungeons & Dragons!...and I am but a single fish circling a particular piece of the shoreline (I won't carry the analogy any farther, because it will get weird). My type of "old school gaming" is different from what so many people are doing these days...it's just...*sigh* how to explain? How to explain in a way that's helpful? Helpful to those few fish swimming in my part of the pond?

About 20-some years ago, my buddy Kris, AKA "The Doctor" (he is not a doctor) gave me an adventure he penned (typed); it sits next to me as I type this. It's in a blue folder with those metal bendy thingys used to hold three-punched notebook paper. In small, black letters on the cover are the words Black Rock Island. The cover page calls it The Dungeon of Black Rock Island, and notes that it is: "an Adventure for 1st edition AD&D; 5-6 characters level 8-10." The first paragraph before launching into the adventure proper says:

BACKGROUND:

You have come to the city of Appleton, on the shores of the Sea of Serenity. You have come together in one way or another, be you long time friends or having just met somewhere along the paths that brought you all here. It is springtime and the time is ripe for adventure. This is good because the fair is in town this week. Fun and frolic for one and all. And just the place to get caught up in a tale you will all tell your grandchildren about some day...

The Doc was no great shakes as a writer. He was born and raised in Edmonds, just north of Shoreline (which used to be "unincorporated Seattle," back when I was growing up). He got through high school and spent his adult working life as a cook in various restaurants. He was a metalhead and a hell of a guitarist, but never did the "band thing" so far as I know (we would jam sometimes). He enjoyed smoking weed and drinking beer, drawing and painting. We shot a lot of pool together. In his mid-20s he "became" (was diagnosed) bi-polar manic-depressive after witnessing a traumatic event (someone being stabbed in a parking lot behind the restaurant he worked at). He got on medication, and then SSI, and soon became unable to work. He's bopped around a bit the last 20 years (living with various siblings and halfway homes since his parents died); the last time I saw him in person, he looked about 78 years old (he's two years older than me)...he'd lost all his teeth (had a hard time talking), his hands had some sort of palsy that prevented him from playing music or painting; overweight, bald, crooked posture, waiting to die.

I met the Doc circa 1997 and we gamed more than a few times together: usually AD&D, but also 2E a couple times, Vampire, Maelstrom (Story Engine), Top Secret, as well as my entire stint with 3E (we both became disgusted with it about the same time). I did some of my first "on-line" gaming with him (both PBEM and in chat rooms...no cameras back then). After he moved away from the area (too expensive) we still kept in touch (not gaming, though) until I moved to Paraguay, though I can reach him on Facebook (just messaged with him yesterday, in fact). Despite our vast differences as individuals, we are kindred spirits. Knowing him as I do, I think he might actually HATE the stuff Prince has written:

4. Rodeo

This area is 120 yards X 80 yards. It is completely fenced off and the center if filled with loose dirt. As you approach, you hear a man's voice calling out, "WIN 500 GOLD - RIDE THE WILD IGUANADON - WIN 500 GOLD!!!" At one end of the ring is indeed an iguanadon. It's mouth is roped shut and it's claws are covered with some kind of leather gloves. There is a small, crude saddle on its back and you can see even from this distance that it is stained with blood.

Kris's adventure design exhibits the "box text" style prevalent in 1980s D&D modules, but it is mercifully short in most places. Since he couldn't make actual boxes for the text, each entry uses black ink for the read aloud bit and follows with red ink for the stats and DM information. All encounter areas correspond to a number on the map. Here's an example (I'll use italics instead of red font):

9. Milo's Amazing Flying Machine

There is a small lineup of about 20 people waiting to board. A smiling Halfling, apparently Milo, waves people to come aboard. He shouts, "Come one, come all! Men, women, and children! Take a ride on my fantastic flying ship! Right this way now!"

If questioned about the function of the ship or where he came across it, Milo will tell the party it was passed down from his grandfather, Olnick Featherstram, who was a great sailor and explorer The ship was discovered on one of his many fantastic voyages. He's not sure how the enchantment works, but he does know how to sail it. If pressed further for details on the origin of the ship, Milo will simply say that, "It was a long time ago that my grandfather discovered this ship and I'm really not sure how it was that he came across it."

There's no excessive backstory for the adventure; a list of rumors can be heard if the PCs visit the food area of the fairgrounds. Most encounters help funnel the party to take a ride on the airship, which will be attacked by an evil wizard and his fire newt henchmen riding a giant flying whale. Assuming the party survives the attack, the ship will be forced to crash land on Black Rock Island, the abode of the said evil wizard (and his gnome assassin henchman!). The whole adventure is delightfully whimsical: magic statues ask riddles and spray poison if answered incorrectly. The gnome has a maze on dungeon level 2 that he likes to stalk PCs in (reminiscent of Enter the Dragon or Man with the Golden Gun). Xorns that demand silver. A dragon turtle on level three lives in a giant fishbowl, complete with miniature castle (answering the creature's riddle correctly allows party's to raise the portcullis and find the treasure inside...if they can breathe water). Down three long flights of stairs, in its own sub-level, a Type V demon waits in the middle of its large chamber, described as follows:

44a. Type V Demon

The walls and floor of this room are smeared with blood. And a crude pentagram has been drawn in blood, covering the floor. It is dimly illuminated by four candelabras, one in each corner of the room. There is a dark crevasse in the wall on the other side of the room. Suddenly, there is a flash and a Type V Demon appears in the center of the room. She attacks you on sight.

Type V Demon (AC -7/-5, move 12", HD 7+7, hp 62...

I love this entry. I love that it offers no information whatsoever why a Type V demon is here...players don't care anyway, they're just going to attack, so why bother (probably it was summoned by the wizard using a cacodaemon spell and HE still hasn't decided what to do with her). I love that the read aloud simply says "a Type V Demon appears;" this is an AD&D adventure written circa 2000 or 2001...everyone who's playing this knows what the hell a Type V demon is (and if not, you can show the players the MM illustration; the page number is listed in the monster's stat block). The PCs are supposed to be 8th to 10th level, after all. 

There's no treasure with the Type V demon...the crack in the wall leads to a small cave where the party will find the dismembered body of Appleton's mayor, Regis Fane Wellington III. But there IS treasure to be found in the dungeon: hundreds of thousands, squirreled away in various areas (and not a small amount of magical treasure, too) as befits an adventure for characters of the suggested level. 

No, it's not great "design" or high concept stuff. But it's both fun and dangerous. And rewarding, too, not just for looting (little x.p, bonuses abound, like the critically injured passengers of the crashed airship who will die off on a daily basis...the party can earn 1,000 x.p. for each one saved). It's an adventure that's written to be played in the style that Kris and I grew up playing. It's meant to be experienced as a game, in-play.

This sense of whimsy and playability isn't present in a lot of the newer OSR stuff...even the good stuff, the well-written stuff with an eye towards usability and design. Prince's stuff is plenty moody and evocative, but there's a lot of "awful" in it. Not awful writing or design, but just awfulness. His world is grim and perilous and dark and everything sucks and is awful and if the players are winning they're still probably losing because it feels like everything in this world is shitty and it's only a matter of time before you get stabbed in the back or robbed or lose your soul to some demonic purpose. That's not my kind of escapism...that kind of thing should potentially happen in the game, but it shouldn't be inevitable. 

Do folks grok me? I LIKE swords & sorcery of the darker variety...I just ordered two Elric hardcover graphic novels last week! I'm a fan of Karl Wagner's Kane. I read post-apocalyptic fiction which almost never has anything like a "happy" ending. But...dammit! Elric still searches for his happy ending, even if he continually makes incredibly poor choices, dooming himself...his destruction is caused by his own hubris, not some inevitability of doom and gloom! 

It's like folks can't get over the whole "killing monsters for money" thing. These people must all be assholes, living in an asshole world, because only assholes murder people and take their stuff. Yeah, that's true...IN REAL LIFE! It's like people keep forgetting this is a game with talking dragons and evil faeries (goblins) and shit. Oh, the humanity of our orcish brethren! Not to mention the grell lurking in the corner.

[Black Rock Island DOES have an encounter with a grell. It has no treasure]

Maybe this is part of why I keep coming back to Dragonlance. Dragonlance is stupid, pretentious (at times), poorly designed (for its game), and inconsistently written. But it still has whimsy to it (more so in the original novels)...it's not a true post-apocalyptic fantasy...it's "post-apocalypse lite." It's D&D...when the PCs meet some hobgoblins on the road, they talk to them before the (probably inevitable) bloodletting by the side of the road.  In the novel, the talking is nice and civilized; after the combat, the victorious PCs are fairly gleeful at the murders they've just committed. This kind of thing, for me, harkens back to an Alexander Dumas tale: the musketeers are all fine and dandy exchanging barbs and witticisms (i.e. communicating), and just as easy at dealing death (with nary a sign of remorse). It's adventure fiction. D&D is adventure fiction that you get to play. 

Game of Thrones isn't adventure fiction (it ain't historical fiction either); it's blood opera and sadness and awfulness. There's neither whimsy nor adventure nor fun to be found in the books I've read (I've only read the first couple). It doesn't work as D&D, though maybe it'd be okay as re-skinned fantasy melodrama like Pendragon. I wouldn't know because, in the end, it's not really my cup o tea for longterm play (nor that of my "kindred spirit" gamers). 

But I'm hopelessly obtuse; hopelessly behind the times. I've watched Big Trouble in Little China a couple dozen times over the years, and it was only yesterday (not watching it) that I thought about the fact that, hey! Those people they rescue from the bamboo cages when they're freeing Margot and have that fight when the ninja chicks on the bridge and whatnot? Most of those people were victims of human trafficking, destined to be involuntarily addicted to heroin and forced into prostitution! That's like incredibly creepy, shitty awful stuff, that I completely ignored in my mind for decades! As I said, I am hopelessly obtuse...but if my mind didn't once consider "who are these people the protagonists are breaking out of cages" it's because I was so caught up in the story being told by director...not one of oppression and slavery and humanity's awfulness towards each other, but gleeful adventure fiction. Delightfully whimsical. 

Anyway. This is what I've been thinking about since yesterday. Saturday was a delightful day: sunny and beautiful. Got to watch my kid's last soccer game in the morning (followed by a pizza party), then watched him play Little League ball in the afternoon (I love watching Little League...it's the Bad News Bears out there, every day, every team), before ordering pizza (again) for dinner. Couple cold beers to wash it down with followed by the Mariners clawing their way back to .500 (that's not going to last) and then early to bed (for me) to sleep off the second vaccination dose I got administered at 7:45am. I feel good today, even though I'm about out of coffee...but I'll make another pot as soon as I finish posting this. 

Whimsy. It ain't so bad one or two days a week. And how often per week do you get to play D&D?

Meaningful Minutia

In yesterday's whiny "return-to-blogging" post, I happened to mention I've been spending a lot of time on world building theory. Just in case anyone wonders what exactly that looks like, it means I've been spending a ton of my (limited) free time, reading and researching stuff to use in building one's fantasy campaign world...and most of that time has been spent reading one particular blog.

Bret Devereaux describes himself as a "professional military historian," whose interests "focus on many of the practical concerns of life and battle in the ancient world." Despite specializing in the Roman army of the middle and late republic, Devereaux draws on a broad base of knowledge to explore the intersection of life, economy, and warfare in premodern times.

It's fascinating stuff. His blog, A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry, spills a ton of virtual ink dissecting and analyzing fictional "ancient world settings" (things like Tolkien's Middle Earth or George Martin's Game of Thrones) on the basis of how they stack up with regard to historic accuracy, as academics understand history (and with annotated references!). As a reference for individuals wishing to create fantasy settings that are somewhat grounded in reality, it's a fantastic and deep source of information. As a nerd interested in history and pop (nerd) culture, it's a pretty tremendous piece of blogging. 

And "tremendous" isn't a bad word just to describe the sheer quantity of information in Devereaux's blog (though I meant it in terms of quality). When I say I've been spending weeks reading through his archives...he only started blogging in 2019...it's because there's so much there to read and digest, even without going back and looking for his sources. My lack of employment gives me a skosh more free time than some people (because of swaths of time when I can do nothing but read...sitting in cars during soccer practice or waiting around for kids' classes to dismiss or what have you), but there are hours worth of reading to peruse. I only wish I could podcast his essays while driving.

Since I can hardly offer more than meaningless minutia myself, I would direct anyone interested in fantasy world-building (especially of the typical D&D "vanilla fantasy" variety) to Mr. Devereaux's excellent blog; the best place to start is his aptly named collection of Resources for World-Builders. I've read most of these posts, though I do sometimes get side-tracked by things like war elephants. Me being me, I don't give a damn about how well video games model the ancient or medieval world (or their warfare), but the discussion of logistics and how they shape both battle and civic development is just tasty, tasty stuff. Most of MY readers will probably want to start with his posts about the Siege of Gondor or differences between Got and the real "middle ages." However, tasty as these subjects are, I think you'll find a bit more world building "meat" in the Lonely Cities posts. And regardless of your feelings on Frank Herbert's Dune (and its screen adaptations), you really shouldn't miss Devereaux's essays on The Fremen Mirage.  

Pictured: Highgarden.
Not Pictured: gardens, towns, villages,
fields, or the normal scenes of medieval life.

All right, I wish I had something more cool to give folks then a bunch of links, but right now A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry is just about the coolest thing I have to offer. Enjoy!

: )

Rabbit Pie

This post may be a bit "all over the place," but it's better than the alternative I was contemplating yesterday (something along the lines of a personal existential crisis which seems, mercifully, to be under control at the moment...). I'll do my best to come up with a title by the end.

SO...I was catching up on my "adventure review" reading over at Bryce's blog and stumbled across this little gem in the pile of dross he usually digs through (meaning no offense to Bryce by the way...I find his work of buying and reviewing adventures "so you don't have to" is an invaluable service to those of us interested in adventure design).

"Little gem" is probably too complimentary, for Game of Kobolds; "interesting nugget" probably should have been the term coined. What it is: a 42 page supplement of material that fleshes out the classic adventure module The Keep on the Borderlands with specifically motivated characters and factions interlinked through a complex web of relationships, providing the basis for the type of "blood opera" one might find in George Martin's Game of Thrones.

[this was the impetus for Corbett Kirkley's design; the origin of the product is described in its introduction, which I will let the interested reader dig into, rather than relate here]

[oh, BTW...it's not a "for purchase" product; you can download a copy here if you like. I'm not a scribd user, so Bryce's link doesn't work for me]

As an idea, the thing is more than just "interesting," but its execution is a little meh. My quibbles are about the same as Bryce: definitions aren't tight enough, not enough Keep characters, the timeline/fallout parts need to be elaborated upon. Furthermore, I prefer a more xenophobic brand of humanoid interaction in D&D to this mixture of "fantasy diversity" which smacks of all the kind of [insert derogatory-term-that-isn't-too-offensive-yet-communicates-disdain] found in the most recent versions of the game.

Still, it's not a terrible idea. For one thing, the scenario presented provides plenty of motivation for players' involvement, without forcing them down a particular path. For another, it presents a more unique situation than just hunting bugbear pelts or goblin skulls for reward. For a third thing, it provides a method of interacting with B2's Caves of Chaos that (hopefully) won't result in the immediate extinction of low-level player characters that so often follows from a frontal assault. For a fourth, it also provides a (slightly wonky) justification for why there's this giant horde of rando humanoid tribes living in harmony and practically on the doorstep of this fully stocked human garrison.

Even so, the idea of running it doesn't appeal (to me) very much, nor even the idea of doing a similar supplement for a different adventure like, say, the various factions found in module I1: Dwellers of the Forbidden City. The thing is, much as I enjoy Byzantine politics and Machiavellian machinations, I consider these a particular vice/component of humanity, and would confine them as such. Bugbears and bullywugs and kobolds and orcs? No. I do not look at them as allegorical or surrogate humans. Heck, I try hard not to even look at elves and dwarves as such.

This morning, the idea that dragged my sorry ass out of bed (or, rather, kept me from returning to sleep after my beagles woke me at the crack of dawn) was this idea I have for cataloguing all the OD&D/AD&D monsters so that I cull the list for the specific creatures that function in my campaign setting, especially with regard to "sentient" species. I've pretty much decided that all "goblinoids" (including kobolds up through bugbear) are going to be a single species (of various sizes), while orcs are going to be a race that was magically created, rather than natural. Some sentients (most notably elves) I plan on categorizing as "protohumans," older variations of humanity (like neanderthals) that have since disappeared or become inseparably bonded with "normal humans" through interbreeding, but in general I really want to limit the amount of creatures with above-animal intelligence.

Still not sure what I want to do with dragons: would like to make them (mostly) a vermin-like species. But then, what's the reason for the treasure hoards? Or is that just a myth ungrounded in fact?

Giving a species the ability to reason invites identification with that creature...and I don't want that. I already intend to have multiple human cultures in my setting, each with the potentials for good, evil, and indifference and of course the various human flaws (hamartia, to borrow from Game of Kobolds) that can lead to drama, intrigue, and tragedy.  The non-humans in my campaign are NOT allegorical stand-ins for other races, ethnicities, and cultures...my intention is to create them as alien cultures based on their own biological strangeness, drives, and environments. The default alignment of these non-human cultures (as I intend to use it) will be in relationship to how harmonious they are with needs and desires of human civilization...my campaign being human-centric.

Recently I started re-reading The Hobbit (for the upteenth time), because I had this idea (brought on by my encumbrance posts) of statting out the dwarvish "pony train" that initially sets out from the Shire. Unfortunately, there's little description of their actual goods to be found, save that it is "mostly food" (as one should probably expect). However, getting to the part where their ponies were eventually lost (in the Misty Mountains) I was struck by Tolkien's description of the goblins as a species, in his initial introduction of the creature. He writes in part:

"Now goblins are cruel, wicked, and hard-hearted. They make no beautiful things, but they do make clever many clever ones. They can tunnel and mine as well as any but the most skilled dwarves, when they take the trouble, though they are usually untidy and dirty. Hammers, axes, swords, daggers, pickaxes, tongs, and other instruments of torture, they make very well, or get other people to make to their design, prisoners and slaves that have to work till they die for want of air and light...they did not hate dwarves especially, no more than they hated everybody and everything, and particularly the orderly and prosperous; in some parts wicked dwarves had even made alliances with them. But they had a special grudge against Thorin's people, because of the war which you heard mentioned..."

There are two things of especial note (to me) in this description. The first is that these are fairytale creatures, more or less a shadowy version of dwarves, and not analogous to any particular human ethnicity (I left out the part about goblins taking delight in engines and explosions and ingenious machines for killing large numbers of people: inventions pioneered for the most part by Western European cultures).  The second is that despite their brutality, they are not above dealing with other races, including dwarves, with whom (in D&D literature and elsewhere) they are generally portrayed as having an entirely genocidal attitude. In fact, it is only Thorin's people in particular with whom they have an issue, due to a previous war/feud, not any fundamental inter-species hatred.

And this is born out later in the interaction between Thorin and the Great Goblin. The proud dwarf is far more humble and polite with goblin chief than in any of his interaction (later in the book) with the king of the wood elves, with whom he has no family quarrel. Of course, a conciliatory tone might be expected after being beaten and chained and at the mercy of one's captors...but the elves treat Thorin nearly as rough as he still has the gall to give the elf king snark. I personally find this fascinating.

The conversation started
politely enough.

But fascinating as it may be, it doesn't change my outlook: these are two alien species, not "fantasy human cultures." If dwarves have some type of kinship with goblins, it is due (in my world at least) due to their shared, subterranean physiology and culture, not any kind of human-like empathy and compassion for each other as fellow sentients. And with regard to the sea of humanity swimming around the foothills of these creatures mountain homes, they are BOTH a strange and eerie species...however, one rates as "lawful" for being interested in crafting useful items and doing honest trade with surface dwellers, while the other (perhaps because of their shorter lifespan and, thus, perspective) are judged "chaotic" for their raiding, slave-taking, and violent methods. And neither species has any interest in human politics except so much as it might further their (inhuman) interests.

My campaign setting isn't about creating understanding between different sentient species. It's about survival. And I already know which species will (eventually) come out on top, because my setting is 10,000 years ago in Earth's past. The individual actions of player characters can be judged for themselves, but I'm not interested in "decolonizing" my D&D game by humanizing the non-humans. If anything, I want to make sure they are MORE "othered" than recent editions would have them be, standing in for diversity against a homogeneity of Euro-type humanity.

That's not to say that I intend my setting to be all Incan and Charrua and Mayan with cloth armor and atlatl and whatnot. There's a reason I'm using a setting of 9,000 BCE and not 1550. But even within a single region, you can have a number of nations of diverse peoples with various cultures, languages, and ways of life, even with a shared "group identity." I've been watching Padma Lakshmi's Taste the Nation the last week or so and found it to be a fascinating look at my own country and the plethora of cultures sharing an "American" identity. I intend the humanity of my setting to be something like that: a society composed of many different peoples, cooperating as best they can (though sometimes failing due to past wrongs and grievances) for survival of their species.

There will be very, very few monsters (i.e. non-humans) that carry a Lawful alignment.

SO...I've come to the end of my rambling post, and I have no idea what to title it. I guess I'll go with "non-existential crisis" since that's the subject these meandering thoughts ended up supplanting. Or I could call it "rabbit pie" (which would make as much sense), as that's what I plan on baking for lunch. Ooo, I feel like Farmer MacGregor this morning.

Hope everyone's having a good week. Today's pretty sunny here in Seattle.

Other People's Stuff

Ugh...just spent two plus hours on the phone with Mac and Microsoft support trying to get my MS Word issues resolved...the new operating system didn't support my old Office products which rendered me incapable of opening ANY of my documents...things like, you know, the books and such I'm working on? F***...

But I won't regale you with any (more) tales of woe for THAT stuff...suffice is to say it was resolved (with cash expenditures) and now I can once again access what I've been working on the last couple days: Cry Dark Future.

[more on this in a later post]

Instead, allow me to pour some of my Christmas cheer into your stocking. My family was kind enough to gift me this year with something I really wanted, but really didn't need...in other words, the kind of thing I call "the perfect Christmas gift" or PCG. PCG's are great when you can find them; I pride myself on usually being able to find them (for others), but my family ain't as adept. Here are things that don't rate as PCGs:

• Things you think I want, but don't (a replica lightsaber one year, for example)
• Things you think I need (if I needed it, I probably would have bought it...unless it's really expensive, in which case you probably shouldn't be giving it to me as a gift!)

And having to come up with "gift ideas" for people kind of defeats the whole exercise really; do you wrap up the groceries on your shopping list? It's like they don't have a whole lot of imagination when it comes to this stuff; though to be fair, the whole "on-line shopping" thing has kind of destroyed the lost art of mall browsing.

[and just so you know, holiday shopping is the ONLY type of shopping I actually enjoy]

But this year they DID come through with a PCG for me, something I certainly wasn't expecting: the Game of Thrones-themed RISK board game. Ha! I probably haven't written much (or enough) about my love for this classic board game...I've held onto my own copy since the 80s (itself, I believe a Christmas gift...I honestly can't remember), and played the hell out of it, back in the day. But this GOT-box is fantastic...it may be the most beautiful board game I've ever owned. And while I have some gripes about the updates to the system (they're not bad; my designer mind simply has half a dozen ideas for making them better) the maps, pieces, and gameplay are all excellent.

[though've we've so far only had the chance to play one game, it was fun to watch House Lannister (played by me) stomp the hell out of the Seven Kingdoms]

One of Two Map Boards

But...and here comes the real point of this post...I had another, stronger reason for salivating over the game. In working on building a new D&D campaign, I have been considering how best to map out a world, and I was strongly considering borrowing/stealing Martin's geography for my own...or at least for a starting point. And the two large territory maps of Westeross and Essos that came with the Risk game looked to be the perfect tools for just such an exercise.

[previously I had been strongly considering the Evergreen Playground map from Kroll as a possible framework. Heck, I'm still considering it. First saw this one on the wall at my favorite BBQ joint up in Ballinger, Gabriel's Fire]

However, a funny thing happened on my way towards plagiarism...I encountered the migration and demographics blog of Kentuckian conservative Lyman Stone, In a State of Migration. It's not bad reading: Stone appears to be an intelligent, thoughtful human being, his research seems solid, and his writing is excellent, if a bit dry at times. However, he's also a big nerd (as if "migration expert" didn't already suggest that) and his writing sometimes veers into the realms of fantasy world-building, whether based on historic medieval economies and movement, fantasy novelists like George Martin, or the demographics of Star Wars. Here are some of the articles I've really been digging into:

Westeros is Poorly Designed
Why is Planetos So Poor?
Notes on Medieval Population Geography

Rather than bastardize the hell out of Stone's work, I'll simply point folks at his blog and tell you that there's a lot of good food for thought in there regarding demographics, migration, and population density. The links from the links can give you e-surfing material for days (at least, it did with me). For folks who'd rather work on their campaigns than watch playoff football, I'd suggest checking it out.

For my part, I'll say I'm now far LESS inclined to use Martin's world as any particular sort of setting. Still, the Risk game is nice to have.
: )

In related links (yes, I'm being lazy...three hours on the phone today, did I mention?!)...have you seen this cartographers guild site? I must be incredibly stupid, because it appears to have been up and running since 2006 and I'm only now stumbling across it. Even at the risk of tarnishing my (already iffy) reputation, I figured I'd go ahead and mention it for others who might have missed it. Also, I now have a link to it on the blog, so that I can peruse the work of many deeply talented peoples. Maybe at halftime.

All right, that's it. For now.

Fatigue - An Example

So there's this fairly memorable scene in the first Game of Thrones season (also in the first novel) where Tyrion ("the Imp") is captured and taken to the Eyrie (one of the "seven kingdoms") where, in order to escape execution, demands a trial by combat. The sellsword, Bronn, offers to champion him against the knight, Vardis Egen. Despite wearing only ringmail armor (disdaining even a shield), Bronn manages to best the plate-and-shield armored knight by dint of being younger (about fifteen years) and faster and fighting in a craven-like fashion that tires out Ser Vardis. Finally wearied by chasing the spry mercenary around the battle chamber in his encumbering armor, the knight slips to one knee and is wounded by Bronn...after which the end (from weariness and blood loss) is all but inevitable. In the eyes of the attending nobility, the sellsword fights without honor; and yet, it is his canny choice of tactics that allows him to prevail with ease where he might otherwise been hard-pressed to achieve victory. Bronn was never interested in a "fair" or "honorable" fight, only in winning and being rewarded with Tyrion's gold.

I find it difficult to model this with AD&D. And it bugs me.

Unless I am completely missing something (entirely possible since I'm semi-new to this "AD&D thang"), there aren't any specific rules regarding fatigue; Gygax explicitly writes in the DMG:

"No rules for exhaustion and fatigue are given here because of the tremendous number of variables, including the stamina of the characters and creatures involved...Fatigue merely slows movement and reduces combat effectiveness. Exhaustion will generally require a day of complete rest to restore exhausted creatures. Always bear in mind that humans inured to continuous running, for example, can do so for hours without noticeable fatigue, i.e. those such as Apache Indians, Zulu warriors, etc. Do not base your judgment on the typical modern specimen."

This is written with regard to pursuit and evasion and is incredibly frustrating, as what I am most interested in is fatigue with regard to minutes (i.e. one minute rounds) of hand-to-hand fighting...an incredibly stressful and tiring exercise even for the most hardened warrior.

B/X doesn't hand wave fatigue; it has specific rules (including penalties to "combat effectiveness") in two different places (page B19 and B24). These are an adaptation of the rules found in OD&D (page 8 of Book 3) requiring a ten minute rest break in every hour of activity, and a "double rest period" after any bout of flight/pursuit (B/X changes this to ten minutes after three turns, with a double penalty the consequence for failing to rest). Still, this doesn't address combat fatigue per se...though this is mitigated somewhat by B/X shrinking combat rounds to ten seconds with any encounter being considered "to have lasted one full [ten minute] turn. The additional time, if any is spent resting sore muscles, recovering one's breath, cleaning weapons, and binding wounds." (Moldvay, page B23).

Yes, yes...I'm aware that hit points are (in part) a model of fatigue and the ability to withstand fatigue in combat. And that makes perfect sense in the abstract: a trained fighter should be more resistant to the rigors of melee than a spindly thief or wizard, and an experienced one even more so. But hit points don't take into account encumbrance...nor movement/activity that has occurred before. And hit points are famous for not diminishing character effectiveness even as they're depleted: a character may be down to half or a quarter of her stamina (hit points) but that doesn't slow her sword arm (there's no penalty to attack rolls).

What's particularly maddening here is that CHAINMAIL actually had the most comprehensive rules for fatigue. Under the Chainmail rules, a model becomes fatigued after any one of the following:

1. Five consecutive turns of movement.
2. Two consecutive turns of movement, followed by a charge, and a round of melee.
3. One turn of movement, followed by a charge, and two rounds of melee.
4. Three rounds of melee.

A fatigued combatant faced the following stiff penalties:

- Attacking and defending as "the next lower value."
- Morale dropping by one point (using a 2d6 roll, much like B/X).
- Slowed (to one-half) "uphill movement"

"Next lower value" is a pretty beefy penalty in Chainmail, but modeling it to AD&D it works out to about a -2 penalty to AC and (probably) attack rolls.

[why -2? Because an "armored" represents a figure in plate-and-mail, a "heavy" represents a figure in chain armor...which in D&D is only a 2 point difference in armor class]

All penalties are removed after the character has had a chance to rest one full turn...the turn in the Chainmail game being one minute long. A "round" of melee in Chainmail is an exchange of blows (one side attacks, then the other side attacks) and is contained within the standard "turn" but, as no more than one such round may be fought in a turn, it can be presumed to approximate an OD&D (or AD&D) round with regard to engaged figures.

Thus, it would not be a great stretch (if relying on Chainmail, the basis of OD&D and, thus, the basis of AD&D) to give characters an AC and attack penalty after three rounds of continuous fighting (or after two rounds for characters that charged), perhaps mitigated by a high Constitution score, and perhaps adjusted by encumbrance. If one wanted to add an extra level of complexity to their game.

OR...we could just ignore the issue altogether and simply allow tireless combatants to beat each other senseless for hours, perhaps fueled by adrenaline alone. In which case, why would you never carry a shield and the strongest armor available when offered? Right?

Pop goes the weasel.

Vanilla DM

I have a tearful confession to make. I have all but abandoned my "grand plans" to run a D&D campaign set in the post-Columbian South America. I am, perhaps, being overly sensitive to the historical (and continued) atrocities perpetrated on the indigenous people and resources of the region; however, if anything I'd chalk up my resistance to laziness, seeing as how the sheer effort to create an adventure-worthy setting that neither disrespects nor ignores the actors of history feels like more than I'm willing to tackle.

Here's part of the deal: I'm 45, folks. I might incorporate aspects of Mayan or Incan or Aztec or European culture in my campaign, but I don't want to bother devising and adapting whole new systems that take into account the complex pre-hispanic cultures and crafts...things like advanced technology despite a written language (necessitating swaths of re-modeling for spell-casting), cloth armor and the effects of terrain and climate, manners of advancing in a way that doesn't require treasure-hunting (for the cultures that don't value gold in the same way as Europeans)...or that allow portage with the lack of beasts of burden or development of the wheel (without the need to harness slave labor).

Besides which, the more I delve into AD&D and its rules and systems, the more I find myself wanting to run something closer to the pulp S&S source material. There are fantasy game systems that have done a good job of modeling the pre-Renaissance world (at least in Europe)...Chivalry & Sorcery (1e) springs immediately to mind, though I've owned, and played, others. But while other, brighter minds than mine (like Alexis) have managed to shoehorn elves and dwarves and half-orcs into an historical Earth-based setting, I don't want to do that. I don't want a "real world" setting that has infravision, psionics, clerical spells, or "giant-class" creatures inserted into it. Yes, you can do it without creating a whole "alternate history" for planet Earth...but why would you? I assert that a world with dragons and Drow (let alone mind flayers and aboleths!) would completely and radically change the structure of human history as we know it. You can disagree. But if I can't suspend my own disbelief on the subject, how the heck can I expect to create a game or an experience where my players can?

I don't think I can. Not in a sincere fashion.

Consequently, I find myself wanting to run a game in a setting akin to the ones found in fantasy literature: the same fantasy literature that provided inspiration for the writers of the game. Maybe not Lovecraft or Vance, but certainly Leiber and Moorcock. Some kind of cross between Howard and King Arthur...less Tolkien in scope, more Bradley-type weirdness. With at least a sprinkle of Robert Asprin mixed in.

I know some folks will be a little disappointed by this turn of events. Truth be told, I'm a little disappointed myself, though probably not as much. After all, it's not like I can't (at a future date) drop the PCs through some sort of magical portal that drops them into 16th century South America. Have their sailing ship cross an inter-dimensional curtain and end up broadside of a Spanish galleon, or enter a pyramid in some lost fantasy jungle and end up exiting the Tower of the Sorcerer in Uxmal. Starting with "vanilla fantasy" may be a lot less ambitious, but it's utilitarian, and it provides a lot of possibilities that aren't necessarily present with a setting grounded in real world history and geography.

Plus, it's recognizable. I agree with much of what Anthony Huso writes with regard to using banal fantasy tropes as a starting point. It allows easy entry and buy-in to the players. I am absolutely certain there are plenty of individuals who would LOVE to play in a fantasy Latin America, especially one that is thoughtful, well developed, and semi-authentic/accurate. That being said, there are many, many, many players (including an awful lot of the ones who want to play in the setting) who are absolutely UNinterested in learning the ins and outs of the historical cultures that we'd be playing in...at least prior to play. Most folks (I think) would prefer to have information about the setting unfold in-play over time...the way we're used to learning information about most fantasy settings (in literature and celluloid).

Consider, for example, Tolkien. The Hobbit introduces us to the Shire then the background of the Lonely Mountain dwarves then Elrond and Rivendell then Mirkwood (with rumors of "the Necromancer") - all gradually unfolding background. The Lord of the Rings introduces more history, more geography, more cultures...and not all in the first book (neither Rohan and Gondor, for example, appear till the second book of the trilogy, and Mordor not till the final book). Even then, the events of the prior two ages are only hinted at in any of Tolkien's first four novels, and it's not until the Silmarillion that we even hear the name Illuvatar or the story of Feanor, etc.

Consider, as a different example, the television series Game of Thrones. Even in the first season, we are introduced to very few places and a very small section of Martin's world. We have King's Landing and its politics, the North and its Old Religion, the Wall and the Night Watch, and a bit about the eastern lands (whatever it's called) following the trials and tribulations of the Targaryan girl among the Dothraki plains folk. But huge and important aspects of the setting don't even come into the story until later seasons: the Army of the Dead? the slaver nations? Highgarden? Dorn? The Faceless Men and the Maesters of Old Town and the Three-Eyed Raven? The setting, its geography, history, and cosmology are all revealed over time, as needed.

With a fantasy setting you can do this...you can have only the haziest of outlines, the roughest of sketches, and crystalize things (as necessary) to fit the needs of the campaign as situations arise and adventures happen. The DM is making stuff up, after all. I suppose it's possible to do this with a historical setting, but it requires much more up front work from the DM (unless the DM is already versed in the history and geography of the setting). I suppose I could do this, given the knowledge, notes, and information I've already acquired...I could do it...

But, again, if you (like me) want to incorporate the weirdness of D&D fantasy into your game (aboleths and elves) AND they're not naturally occurring parts of the setting (as they don't in South America), then you need something more open and vanilla-bland to start. At least, I do.

Just so folks know.

Not the Problem that Needs Solving

Has anyone else been watching Game of Thrones lately?

I was watching the most recent episode ("The Long Night") a couple evenings ago which features the climactic battle/showdown between the majority of the (still living) cast of characters and the Army of the Dead (a hundreds of thousands strong horde of zombies supported by wight-like officers and a some undead monsters). And as I was watching, I was thinking to myself, which characters would these be in Dungeons & Dragons? And I broke it down something like this:

Beric Dondarrion - fighter (with a flaming sword), Sandor Clegane ("the Hound") - fighter (with high strength), Dolorous Edd - fighter, Tormund Giantsbane - fighter (with high strength), Samwell - fighter (with low strength), Brienne of Tarth - fighter (with high strength), Podrick - fighter, Jaime Lannister - fighter, Lyanna Mormont - fighter, Melisandre (the Red Woman) - magic-user, Gendry - fighter, Ser Jorah Mormont - fighter, Grey Worm - fighter (with high dexterity and strength), Arya - assassin, Theon Greyjoy - fighter (with high dexterity), Jon Snow - fighter, Bran Stark - fighter (or psionic, depending on system).

Just a fighter

Daenerys, Tyrion Lannister, Sansa Stark, and Ser Davos Seaworthy don't really fit any of the standard adventuring classes. In 3rd edition terms, the first three are nobles and Davos is an expert, but I really dislike this kind of "classing everyone" thing. I'd rather code Tyrion as the NPC monster class "Noble" (of the 2-3 HD variety) and everyone else as "Normal Humans," though I could see Daenerys as a re-skinned 1+1 HD Elf/Targaryan (only spell known: fire resistance, which still has to be prepped and cast, and only once per day).

Just a fighter

Jon Snow is NOT a ranger...while rangers appear to be a part of the GoT setting, it should be remembered that neither Jon, nor Sam, nor Dolorous Edd were made members of that order; all three, in fact were made "Stewards" of various sorts. This is kind of like telling a player, "sorry, you don't meet the minimum ability scores" (in Jon's case, it's a lack of Intelligence; for Sam, it's a low Constitution). One could use a halfling re-skin to model Tormund's "wildling" class (in fact, I might post an example of what this would look like sometime), but it's not super-necessary...heck, he could simply be an NPC berserker (like the monster of the same name) if you don't see him as a player character.

Another fighter

Anyway, how many different character classes is that? Three? Four? Certainly there's not much that distinguishes most of these characters from each other in terms of "class" or skills or abilities or even backgrounds (most of them come from nobility). And yet all of these individuals are very distinct from each other: not only in terms of appearance, but in behavior, motivation, and action. Some have evolved and changed (sometimes drastically) over the course of the series; others (like Tormund) are more or less the same as they've ever been, though perhaps with a different allegiance and/or "alignment."

When I see the type of rich tapestry that can be created from such basic and non-unique archetypes, it's really difficult to convince me there's much (if any) need for an elaborate character creation system in my fantasy RPG. Something as simple as B/X (or even OD&D) works just fine...maybe AD&D if you want to add some "realism" (like different weapon proficiencies) and extra "crunch" (combat adjustments based on proficiency, weapon vs. armor, and speed factor). But anything more detailed, more micro-manage-y, more video game-like, is SOOO unnecessary...and, in fact can detract from the immersive experience of the game being played.

Him, too...though might
roll D10s for hit dice.

'Course, I already knew that...it just got emphasized watching that GoT episode.

I am SORELY tempted to do some sort of write-up of these various characters in terms of some type of OSR system (OD&D or B/X). But for the most part, it's so easy to do so (for anyone), the phrase "why bother?" pops immediately into my mind. Maybe instead I'll do a quick write-up instead of house rules for a GoT specific campaign (similar to what I did with Krull)...then I won't have to argue things like who's stronger between Tormund, Brienne, and the Hound (hint: they're all in the 16-17 range).

However, please don't expect a lot of hot and heavy posting the next week or two...after (barely) getting through the April A to Z challenge, I kind of want to take a breather from the regular blogging.  Just a little.

Later, gators.