Killing Gods, Part 3

All right, let's get this finished up...I've got other things to blog about: secret D&D languages, the uses of audible glammer, maybe even a run at "reviewing" Ravenloft (that was a pseudo-request). Buckle up, folks...this entry might be a looong one.

; )

When it comes to the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons game, there are two inspiring sages that act as my guiding lights, two pole stars by which I steer my ship. They are Alexis Smolensk and Anthony Huso. There are other blogs that I read (and podcasters I listen to), but in the main, these two are the only external forces shaping my outlook on the game. If I had to name one more, Gary Gygax would, I suppose come in a distant third place. 

[does it seem strange to folks that Gygax isn't the brightest star in my AD&D firmament, despite being responsible for the game's existence? There is some precedent. I have it from strong authorities that Jesus is only the third-most important figure in shaping the Roman Catholic Church; the main individuals responsible for our religion (and, thus, all other Christian denominations descended from the western Church) are St. Paul (not even one of the Twelve!) and Thomas Aquinas]

Anyway, don't shake your head at me, Dear Reader; I have my reasons.

Longtime readers of my blog are surely well-acquainted with Alexis, I've mentioned the guy often enough. Huso, on the other hand, has a small enough presence on the internet (his web site has only been around since 2018) that while I'm certain I've mentioned him, he may have well fallen through the cracks of people's perceptions. He is an AD&D aficionado of the deepest stripe, and his blog deals at great length and fair eloquence with that specific rule set, the edition of D&D he's been running for his table since 2014 when he chucked his Pathfinder game for good. It is excellent reading.

However, that's not the reason I mention the man. In my last post on the subject of killing gods, I cited several published adventures of recent years that involved physical confrontations with gods, godlike beings, and pseudo-godlings, all of which were aimed at the low level adventuring party. I explained that I don't find these particularly reasonable, given the parameters of the D&D game as designed. My feeling is that D&D provides at least some guidelines (based in both instructional text and example adventure modules of the earliest origin) for how one ought to proceed with such scenarios and, baby, these ain't it. For me, it's a grating trend and, perhaps, even a disturbing one...there seems to be an aversion to high level D&D play while (at the same time) a longing for high stakes, epic adventure of the type that rightly belongs in the realm of high level characters.

Mr. Huso doesn't share this aversion (he's blogged his thoughts on high level campaign play...more than once) and has demonstrated how one might actually write a "god-killing adventure" with an absolutely exquisite book, a masterwork entitled Dream House of the Nether Prince. It is a lavish piece of art, as well as a fiendish, evocative adventure. It is, as far as I can determine, the single best gaming product I've purchased NEW for D&D since the reissue of the AD&D manuals a few years back. It may be the coolest pre-written adventure I've purchased since the 1980s. Certainly the best since Bruce Cordell's Return to White Plume Mountain (that was published in 1999), making it my favorite for at least the last 20 years.  

Yet I can't...well, I won't...review the thing. Because I haven't played it...I haven't experienced it. I can review a movie or a piece of music, but I can't give a true review of an adventure that I haven't run, because until I do run it, I can't say for certain if it's excellent or horrible or lost in translation from text to table. And there's just no way for me to run the thing at this point.

Huso's Dream House wasn't written for me...or (probably) for you, either. He wrote it for his own players, as a capstone adventure to finish seven years of AD&D play. It is a suitably epic dungeon, a mission to a massive fortress located in the Abyss, a refuge and "vacation palace" for Orcus, demon prince of the undead. The adversaries present in the adventure are truly staggering. The treasure to be looted is absolutely mind-blowing. The final confrontation might see PCs battling Orcus or Demogorgon or (perhaps) both. It is beautiful to behold. It is a pleasure to read (if, like me, you're "into demons"). It is suggested that no less than six characters of 14th level even attempt the adventure; Anthony's seven player group brought a party of ten, and many of them died, some in very permanent ways...you can read a summary of their venture on his blog.

It is an excellent example of what is possible with the D&D rules. A 135 page tour-de-force that puts H4: The Throne of Bloodstone (it's closest comparison) to shame. I really, really mean that. Dream House is a masterpiece created more-or-less by a single person, and it makes the entire Bloodstone line of TSR look paltry and hackish by comparison. The difference, however, is understandable when one considers Huso's book to be something lovingly created for his own group of players, not something churned out for the masses at a time when the company was just trying to stay afloat business-wise. I suspect a lot of people will balk at spending $50 (the price of its POD hardcover) for a niche product of a niche hobby, especially given its limited use in many (most?) campaigns.

Why limited? Because, despite a lot of excellent info on demons and a lot of new/unique monsters and treasures, the adventure is written for the type of adventuring group that most DMs simply don't have. There are no pre-generated characters included with the thing, and I can see why: because just handing someone a character sheet with a 15th level paladin or wizard won't make the player a savvy veteran of the kind needed to navigate this level of challenge. A group with years of experience working together in cooperation would find it a rough go of it...but then, they ARE tackling a unique demonic god in its lair. Such scenarios should be limited, niche, and incredibly difficult. 

Gygax was the first person to put encounters with gods into published adventures: the Elder Elemental (in G1 and G3), Blibdoolpoolp (in D2), and Lolth (in D3). There are two things that all these have in common:

1. These encounters are all potential in nature; none of these encounters with godlings are mandated, and all may be avoided. 
2. The adventures in which they are found are the pinnacle of what I call "hard core" Dungeons & Dragons. The novice ("N") series are clearly for beginning players. The intermediate ("I") series are fine for any group already versed in the game (i.e. players that know how to play and cooperate). The special ("S") series are random, rule breaking adventures, that provide enough weirdness to stymie experienced players or give novices a "puncher's chance." But the six modules that make up the G-D series are absolutely punishing adventures, any one of which will TPK a party that fails to operate at a high level of strategic play. 

And I find it fascinating how those godling encounters "ramp up" over the course of the series. In the G modules, the most a party might expect to encounter is an eye or tentacle that will drive a PC insane or drag them screaming to oblivion. In D2, a PC might actually encounter the goddess (on her own home turf) and might be able to treat with or bargain. In D3, the party has a chance to confront a goddess on their own plane, with the potential for actual combat and the possible destruction of her avatar. This is no naga masquerading as a god (as in N1: Against the Cult of the Reptile God)...Lolth is the real deal. 

These scenarios work within the parameters and expectations of D&D play. A party of mid-level adventurers...and to me, 8th to 10th is still only (high) "mid-level"...should not be confronting creatures of godlike power. The encounters in G3 and D2 are more in line with "traps:" really rough traps that are best avoided.  Only in D3 (an adventure for characters of level 10-14) should a confrontation with a demon queen be possible, and only in the most limited of circumstances: outside her home plane, away from the bulk of her power base. Again, Lolth is not the point of the module; exploring the Vault and dealing with the threat of the Eilservs clan is. The goddess might even be a potential ally given the transgressions of Eclavdra and her ilk, though this is not an explicit suggestion of the module.

But again, it is in adventures like these that we see the power and majesty of the D&D game. In the first part of this series I wrote how, of all the sword & sorcery fantasy that influenced D&D, only Leiber and Moorcock display their protagonists in actual interaction with divinities. PCs allying themselves with Lolth, bargaining for leniency from Blibdoolpoolp, or being used as pawns by Orcus (in Huso's book) all exemplify scenes one reads in those S&S fantasies...and while a divinity being willing to treat with mortals speaks to the fallibility (and vulnerability) of the divinity in question, it is really only those characters with world-shaking power (like Elric) who have the capability to bring actual destruction to such entities.

And this is of particular importance to the default setting of Dungeons & Dragons, because under the terms of the game, these are no "false gods." These demon queens and princes are gods that are worshipped, that are followed by devout clerics, and to whom they may bestow spells. And yet they are not safe from destruction! Player characters thus have the power to alter the cosmology of the campaign  setting and impact the reality of the game world in drastic ways. What happens to the Drow clerics of Lolth if Lolth is destroyed on her home plane? Do they cease to be a threat altogether? Doubtful, but her death (if achieved) will surely change Drow culture at a fundamental level.

That's the opposite of de-protagonizing players. 

And that, perhaps, is what I find lacking about some of these other OSR offerings that involve encounters with deities, quasi- or otherwise. There's a certain sort of "enforced smallness" that comes along with placing PCs in situations in which they are absolutely, hopelessly outclassed by a power beyond mortal comprehension. It should be hard for the PCs to even encounter such a being. Barring a long and arduous journey through miles of hostile environment and unnumbered foes to the god's most sacred (and well-guarded) temple, nothing short of a complicated ritual/sacrifice should allow access to such a being on the Prime Material Plane. And as bodily travel to the outer planes is generally outside the reach of low-mid level characters, such encounters should be an extremely rare and wondrous thing...if possible at all.

Okay...perhaps one more post on the subject (to conclude) is needed.

Descent Into The Void

The in-laws have headed for home and I may now resume my normal blogging schedule...well, I may after I've resumed my normal sleep cycle. Yowza!

In looking back over my various posts from August, I see that I've completely neglected to fulfill my "pseudo-promise" (there's a better word, but I AM pretty sleepy right now and the phrase doesn't spring readily to mind) of detailing the why's and wherefore's of my Top Ten Adventure Module list. Tonight I want to look at #7 on the list, Gary Gygax's D1-D2 Descent Into the Depths of the Earth. Now as I said, I'm calling these as I purchased them, and when I got D1-2, they were one module combined. Yes, I realize they were originally published as two. Enough already! As I said, let's look at it...I mean LOOK at it! What a piece of cover art! Right there, the image is enough to stick it in my top ten. No giant, grinning blue man on the front, just a badass battle between several shady looking adventurers. Of course, the cat getting his brain sucked out on the back cover is pretty sweet, too...more Willingham goodness. For those who haven't played D1-D2, it is the middle section of Gygax's epic G-Q, 7 module series (yes, I realize Gygax didn't write Q1...Q1 is a different post folks). I don't think one could call a series of adventure modules an "opus;" not when the guy writing 'em has penned the DMG and the PHB. But there's no doubt the series is a classic. So why then do I only single out D1-2 for my top ten list? What about G1-3 or everyone's beloved Vault of the Drow? Is it just the cover art? Nah...though of the whole series, I find the Roslov illustration on D1-2 the best of the bunch. No it's the adventure. See, I've run the whole series...what...MAYBE three times? Q1, as I said, is a whole 'nother story necessitating its own post (some day, some day). I've actually owned the D series longer than I've owned the G series...hell, I had access to Q1 through a friend prior to finding a copy of G1-3 (and guess where? yeah, that little used book store in Missoula, Montana). So D1-3 I've run individually more than others, and of them, the first two are the creme de la creme for me.  I mean, come on! A wilderness adventure underground? Drow back when they were totally evil? Mind flayers? No, there are no dragons in the caverns of the troglodytes...but there is a badass lich.

I'm not even going to talk about the DM's option of crafting his own Underdark adventures by allowing the PCs to explore side passages...I, myself, never went though the trouble to detail "the rest of the map," though I think it's a fairly cool idea.  However, for the record, I think the first two scripted encounters (the Drow outpost and the Mind Flayer lair) are two of the best I've ever laid eyes on in a published module. Each encounter is like its own mini-adventure...you need brains and tactics to defeat both, and if your PCs have never encountered drow or mind flayers before they are in for just a vicious surprise.

And yet, the encounters also perfectly showcase what these two classic monster-types are all about. You get a taste of the drow, their matriarchal society, their clerical and magical powers, their weird magic, their purses filled with platinum.  You get mindblasted and brain-sucked by the illithid...holy crap! 

I should probably do a whole post about the mind flayer. It breaks my heart that I can't stick 'em in my B/X Companion (no psionics, no IP material). I had probably used or thought about using a mind flayer prior to owning/running D1 (I did have the Monster Manual, though I may have "winged" the psionics without a copy of the PHB).  But what happens when you throw one mind flayer at a party of adventurers? You get a dead mind flayer, no shit.

But throw TWO mind flayers at a party? With their wererat thralls as canon fodder/distraction? You get a LOT of dead party members, is what you get...ha!

Vicious, vicious, vicious...D1 taught me to respect the illithid for the terrible foe they are.

And the lich in the great cavern...how many of my players got encouraged to venture into its lair and start "detecting magic" by yours truly?  All of 'em, that's how many...no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to use such a powerful monster...hell, that's excellent XP for PCs and excellent loot to boot! Why stash something so cool in a hidey-hole. That lich is the most powerful being in the caverns, it only makes sense he'd be running the joint.

[just by the by...in Paul Kidd's Descent Into the Depths of the Earth that's his take as well, and I respect him immensely for it, even if I don't like what he did later in the book]

Anyway, I've wasted a ton of blog space on D1, and it's not even my favorite part of the module...that would be D2: Shrine of the Kuo-Toa. I LOVE the Kuo-Toa; don't ask me why.  They have a draw and appeal to me that is similar to the draw and appeal of H.P. Lovecraft's works...certainly there are marked similarities between the Kuo-Toa and HPL's "Deep Ones." Not to mention Blibdoolpoolp the Sea Mother...she could easily have been one of Lovecraft's elder gods.

But I found D2 and the Kuo-Toa long before I found H.P. Lovecraft.  And I dig 'em. I love their weird amphibious nature. I love how, while tool-users, they wear no garments besides harnesses for their weapons (how very Burroughs...). I love how they have this weird priest-hood and character classes including assassins and "whips." I think it is especially creepy and weird how they "grow with age" so the more powerful ones are larger than man-sized and imposing compared to the younger, grunts...I find that just disturbing and yet totally fitting for the weird pulpy "city" that Gygax has created in D2.

I mean, I could really go on for a long time. Jermalaine? Love 'em. Getting teleported to Blibdoolpoolp's elemental plane of existence? How could you not love it!

There ARE flaws to the module...I found much of the underground stuff more time-consuming as a kid than fun (I wanted to get to the action, not worry about wandering trolls!). The Svirfneblin are just "okay" in my book...I don't find it necessary to have some sort of short, good-aligned allies in the Underdark (dammit, it's too deep underground for "good" to exist!).

And I really don't like the whole Kuo-Toa boatman encounter. Not because the rogue monitor isn't a cool encounter, what with his chance to go berserk and his giant gar and all (who doesn't love a giant gar?). But I think it "gives away the farm" too fast.  Ideally, I would prefer the PCs to not have ANY contact with the Kuo-Toa prior to finding the Shrine. Having one that is "kind of friendly in a professional if slightly crazy way" down-plays the weirdness and inhumanity of the Kuo-Toans. In my opinion, tt would have been better for this encounter to have occurred AFTER the shrine (as in, on the way down to the vault) where the strangeness of a "friendly monster" would have been more felt (after invading and fighting hordes of the things).

All right, I should probably talk about why D3: Vault of the Drow FAILS to make my top ten list when it rates so highly with others. However, this post is already running pretty long, so I'll save it for another day.