Restraint

I need to write.

The trip to Orlando was a good one. Made it to the gate by the skin of our teeth (both ways!), but made it we did. The weather was lovely: cloudless, sunny days in the 70s-80s. Four days at the Universal parks and a couple days at Disney, and saw and rode on all the attractions we'd planned/intended. Very, very stress free for the most part, which is...frankly...amazing. No explosive arguments or catastrophes, and we even picked up a bunch of merch that we were (somehow) able to fit in our carry-ons without checking a single bag (we hate checking bags).

Lot of sickness, though. I picked up a sinus infection on the plane ride there, and it took me a couple days to get over it (but I managed). Then my daughter caught a cold the second to last day we were there and was able to pass it on to my wife and I just as we were pulling up stakes. Now back in Seattle, my daughter is on the mend, I'm, mm, pretty rough, and my wife is sick as a dog. However, tests show all four of us are negative for Covid, so there's that.

["masking" is not on the menu in Orlando. In six days at theme parks among thousands of people we saw exactly one mask on one employee (to be fair, we weren't wearing them either, outside the airport). But we saw a LOT of coughing and sneezing people, and plenty of snot-nosed children. I get it: you drop a load of cash on a Disney vacation and you're not going to skip it because you got a sniffle. Probably, I'm just germ-phobic in these post-pandemic times, but it's nice to be back in Seattle where no one bats an eye if you decide to wear a mask to the grocery store...hey, man, I'm protecting YOU, too]

Longest wait time for a ride was 2+ hours for Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance. Second longest was about an hour plus for (tie between Jungle Cruise and Space Mountain). I do not like waiting in lines, but it is far easier to do with your family than solo (as I did with Space Mountain). But 2.5 hours definitely tries your patience, even with company. I mean, it really, really does. Probably a good idea to bring a cheap paperback novel. 

Most disappointing ride: Pirates of the Caribbean. I've been to Disney Land thrice in my life (once in Tokyo!) but never Disney World and not for 30+ years. Pirates has long been my favorite ride, and DW's version was: crap. I mean, it's obnoxious anyway that they've had to insert animatronic Johnny Depp into multiple scenes because of the stupid movies (at least I didn't have to see animatronic Orlando Bloom)...but the ride is SHORT...they cut out whole scenes from the DL ride, characters that were the basis for the original movie (like the bomb dude), all the undead/ghost stuff and...I don't know. It felt cheap and chintzy. And I just heard they're getting rid of the original ride at Disney Land, too, changing it for "Jake the Pirate" which is just...*sigh.*  I guess what counts as "adventure" for AdventureLand in the 21st century isn't the same as the 20th. Don't scare the kiddies with grim brutes and bloody cutlasses. Heavens!

The Magic Kingdom did seem geared to a younger audience. Asking for a beer in LibertyTown, the colonial-dressed cashier told me point blank "There will be no alcohol in the Magic Kingdom" in an ominous tone of voice. Like, none? Quite the contrast with Universal's theme parks, where the tourists are walking around with double-fisted pints from 9 in the morning. I mean, that's the way to wait in line (assuming it curls by a restroom). 

[DW's other parks...like Disney Hollywood...were a bit looser than Magic Kingdom in this regard. Though I heard from an Uber driver that a flight of beers at the SW Cantina costs $85!  Holy-moly! Most of the booze cost $12 from what I saw, but I'm not sure the additional $6 shot of rum would save that blue milk. Not my taste]

ANYway, all bitchin-moaning aside, we had a splendid time. Not sure if I'm a fan of the whole 3D/4D rides, as THOSE things made me far more queasy than ANY of the roller-coasters (especially that Escape From Hogwarts thing that the kids made me go on...twice! Nearly tossed my cookies every time we zoomed onto the Quidditch field). But those were mostly at Universal, where you could always grab a beer or a Bloody Mary to settle your stomach afterwards. And beautiful, sunny weather to stand around and drink it in (he says as he looks at the wind and hail...hail!...outside)...the fam had me cooking asado last night for Fat Tuesday and I was grilling in the pouring rain!

By the way, shout out to our hotel, the Cabana Bay (part of Universal) with its 1960s retro-modern vibe. Wow. Loved it...every bit of it. It was like a theme park unto itself (that theme being "1965"). But an extremely relaxing one. 

The one thing I didn't do much of, however, was writing. Oh, I had the chance to do some writing...mostly on the six hour plane rides. But a lot of it was just...mm...not "mean-spirited," so much as just negative. I find, more-and-more, that a lot of what I'm inclined to write about (at least, with regard to commentary) is poking holes in things that others praise...or bringing a hammer to things that others are "okay" with. 

I know, I know...I've blogged before about wanting to be constructive and positive, rather than destructive and negative. I don't really want to start singing that song again.

But it occurs to me that maybe there's a purpose for my negativity. Maybe.

Still, it's Lent and I want to practice a little restraint. Yes, I have one or two half-cocked (well, half-penned) rants waiting to be fired off, but I think I want to get a little more above the weather before I post 'em to Ye Old Blog. Just to make sure my heart's in the right place, I want to make sure my head is clear and non-stuffed.

[okay, now it's freaking snowing. Jeez]

This weekend...well, tomorrow, actually...the fam is headed out west to Port Angeles. My uncle recently passed away, and while there's no formal funeral or memorial (as my father told me long ago, folks in Port Angeles "never really took much to religion") there's a "get together" of friends and family at a (kid friendly) tavern. Very Port Angeles. 

[yes, in Port Angeles they're called "taverns," not bars or pubs, at least by the locals. Most places tend to have a nautical theme to it as well...restaurants have names like The Hook & Line or Smuggler's Landing or 48 Degrees North. My grandfather...and late uncle...ran a tavern called The Wreck for decades...]

SO, I'll be gone this weekend (again) starting tomorrow, and I've got a bunch of packing and whatnot to do before then, as well as a D&D session to prep/run. So...maybe regular blogging to resume again on Monday? I'm hoping. 

Hey...at least I didn't give up blogging for Lent this year.

; )

Later, ya' land-lubbers!

"Rat City"

White Center also garnered a new nickname during the war: Rat City. The possible origins of this name are diverse. The local wartime military establishment was called the Reserve Army Training Center or the Recruitment and Training Center, depending on who tells the story. Often the military would designate an area out-of-bounds for servicemen, and these areas were designated Restricted Alcohol Territory. Some people recall that the youth at the Southgate Skate Center were known as rink rats. Whatever the source, the name Rat City was coined and stuck, and many in White Center hang on to the moniker with pride. Rodents had nothing to do with it.

[from historylink.org]

Great food, mild weather and a prime waterfront location have long guaranteed Seattle a spot among America’s top cities. Unfortunately, that appeal also extends to some less desirable neighbors, so much so that the Seattle-Tacoma region placed ninth on a 2017 ranking of America’s top 50 rodent-infested towns; specifically, rats. “Rats have been a problem forever in Seattle,” says Jeff Weier, technical director for Sprague Pest Solutions, a Tacoma-based company that proudly notes “90 years of kicking pests in the tail.” 

Weier saw rats when he moved here in the ’80s, but lately, it seems the problem has grown. “I’m not sure exactly why,” he says, though he speculates that development plays a role. “There used to be open fields and lots everywhere and they’re all being filled in with homes,” he says. In other words, rodents that once lived here have essentially been displaced. “And, of course, when we build in their environment, we invite them in, basically.

[from Seattle Mag]

I am my own worst enemy. I throw down a challenge to folks and then I spend the next week researching rats (various species, including the "giant" Sumatran rat found in the Monster Manual...spoiler: not that giant...as well as real prehistoric monsters): gestation habits, food consumption, average nest size, etc. as I work on creating my own "adventure" for the event. After all, it's not fair to toss a gauntlet you're unwilling to pick up yourself. Need to make sure the thing is possible, right?

Normal rat skull on
the right; coryphomis 
skull on the left.

But why do I say "worst enemy?" Because what I should be doing is working on either A) my own campaign world (specifically the region my players are exploring), or B) one of the (multiple) adventure rewrites I'm already embroiled in, or C) finishing up one of my other book projects already in the hopper. Ah, how the mind wanders...yesterday I spent a good chunk of hours using google translate to painstakingly decipher a map written in German (yes, this was also rat-related). *sigh* 

Ah well. At least my enemy is one that I can somewhat control...that's a good thing, even if it's (at times) a frustrating one. 

White Center is a neighborhood of Seattle, somewhat located within the locale of the area known as "West Seattle" (just south of West Seattle proper). One thing people from other parts of the world might not understand is just how "broken up" the city is by various bodies of water (large lakes and the Sound). These days, of course, it's all joined together by a variety of spans and bridges, including multiple interstate highways, but that wasn't the case a century ago. The first West Seattle bridge wasn't constructed until 1924, for example, and folks who find it a bitch to get there these days (as I do) would have needed a boat or ferry to cross the water prior to that (unless you wanted to drive a hella' long way). West Seattle is still "Seattle" but it has its own population and idiosyncrasies...and its own reputation (generally a rather snobbish one given the price of the real estate). 

White Center, AKA "Rat City" also has a reputation, and not a very flattering one. Part of this has its history in being "rough and tumble" (in the neighborhood's early days, it was outside of Seattle law enforcement jurisdiction and so had a substantial criminal element). Part of it has to do with the lower income of the neighborhood's residents (compared to other parts of Seattle, property values in White Center have been low). Part of it is due in no small part to the diverse, non-white population of the area...because of the low property values, people of color and foreign immigrants from around the world have settled the area in droves, and the neighborhood's demographics reflect that (as do all the usual racist stereotypes). Of course, in recent years White Center has become yet another fast-growing, affluence-rising neighborhood of Seattle...in ten years it'll look just as gentrified and boutique as Capitol Hill or the Central District or anywhere else in this town (if it doesn't already...like I said, it's a bitch to get over to West Seattle for folks that live on this side, and I haven't been there in years). The pride some folks take in being from "Rat City" probably just comes off as bewildering to the new "tech money" that's started taking over the area.

[man, I am turning into such a crusty old-timer!]

ANYway...White Center's land area puts it on a scale comparable to a small medieval town (the walled variety...see why I need the German translations?) which...because this is D&D...makes it a good fit for my campaign and the adventure I'm writing. White Center's nickname is, of course, the inspiration that drew me to the neighborhood in the first place (duh...rat-themed, right?). Right now, I'm looking at an area with about 30 keyed areas, and (possibly) several "sub-levels" all contained in a walled village about 7 miles distant from Sea-Town proper. I'm pretty confident I can get it done by the end of the month...assuming I can pen some passable maps.

I do, however, feel some slight trepidation or nervousness at the prospect. This adventure represents my first foray into King County (the county in which lies Seattle)...an area of my campaign setting that I have, to date, avoided detailing. Heck, other than my Ravenloft-inspired vampire castle in Port Angeles, I haven't even ventured west of the Cascades...and neither have my players. Not only is there PLENTY to do in Eastern Washington (we haven't even gotten to the Red Empire of Spokane), I want to keep the greater Seattle area (and the east-siders of Hell View, er, Bellevue) a mysterious entity of rumor and speculation. Which is, I understand, ridiculous...any city that large should have multiple KNOWN facts (along with preposterous rumors) readily available to the local yokels in all parts of the region. But...well, I've been blessed with PCs who are more focused on the immediate adventures at hand, allowing me to safely backburner any nailing down of Seattle's "factuality" (is that a word?).

All right, that's enough for now. Hope folks are having a happy Tuesday. If you ARE writing a ratty adventure, best of luck to you...you still have 21 days (that's three weeks!); I'm looking forward to seeing what people come up with.

; )

Orcas Island

East end of Buoy Bay; 10:01am. There are far, far worse places to be hungover.

Orcas is so lovely, but far more so when one has wealth and leisure. Our friends, who own the guest cottage in which I currently sit typing and enjoying an unobstructed view of the Sound, have been here for years...many more years than I've known them (and I met them in '98), and over the decades they've continued to acquire and improve their expansive property here.  The "cottage" in which my family is staying, rests on the site of the original cottage that they first had built when they came to the island...but it is now anything but "rustic," sporting solar panels, high-speed internet, beautiful furnishings, tasteful design and decoration, and enough bed and bathrooms to easily contain my family and in-laws (who are still traveling with us). 

The "big house" where the owners stay (at the top of the hill, rising behind me) also has a beautiful, unobstructed view, but I prefer to be closer to the water. A short trail leads down the cliffside to the beach (also owned by these folks) where my son has spent much of the last two days perfecting his rock-skipping talents. Yesterday afternoon, we saw three orca whales (transients...the kind that hunt seals) off the coast. Early in the morning, I saw a beautiful horned deer, dancing on its hind legs as it pulled down apples off the tree outside the window. I should have taken video, but I was trying very hard to forget the chain of my cell phone.

The coffee I'm drinking is from Seattle.

There is no need for the escapist fantasy afforded by Dungeons & Dragons here. Orcas Island IS an "escapist fantasy." Today, we will probably hike Mount Constitution and maybe kayak along the shoreline. Soak up the good energy, recover from drinking too much wine, perhaps relax in the hot tub, before our return journey tomorrow (via ferry) to the mainland. 

Mmm. And now my family is up. As a man possessing very small amounts of leisure (and no real wealth to speak of), I am once again called into action. Blissful musings of (fantasy) island living must now be set aside. I hope you are all having a peaceful and restful weekend.

Later.

D is for Drowning

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, for every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic this month? Things necessary to take your D&D campaign from “eh, fantasy” to “kick ass.” And who doesn’t want that?]

D is for Drowning the oft-neglected purview of Davy Jones.

Sometimes we forget just how dangerous adventures can be even without poisoned arrow traps, vampire level drain, and the claw/claw/bite of an owl bear. Going down in a dark, smelly hole of a dungeon is (or should be) risky and dangerous regardless of the monsters and traps encountered.

Drowning in the dark is one of the most horrible things I can think of.

I mean, let’s talk sensory deprivation for a moment. Even without the imminent threats of asphyxiation and hypothermia (it’s generally pretty cold in those underground lakes), falling into an underground pool is probably going to put out any torches or lanterns a character is carrying…and I doubt infravision would pick up ANYthing due to the iciness of the water (I’m just remembering the Predator’s “heat vision” being foiled by a little cool jungle mud…). No, the water may have cushioned your fall, and you may be able to tread water…but you’re alone, in the dark, the cries of your own voice echoing around the darkness simply confusing your senses more.

And let’s talk treading water. D&D is fairly simplistic with regard to swimming, but voluminous wizard robes would probably be more likely to get water-logged than tightly cinched armor…especially for a strong man with light armor. Now if that same “strong man” is carrying 50-80 pounds of weapons, gear, and treasure it’s going to be a LOT harder to keep from going under.

And aren’t wizards usually the ones stuck with carrying the excess gear?

Water hazards in dungeons have been a force since at least Supplement II (I can’t remember off-hand if there was an underground river in LBB volume 3), and plays a large role in many old school adventures, including all the S modules (Tomb of Horrors, White Plume Mountain, Barrier Peaks, Caverns of Tsojcanth), and the D modules. G2 and G3 substitute ice and lava for their environmental hazard, but even the Village of Hommlet has an encounter in a cistern and a giant crab. And several of the B/X modules (including B1 and X1) have water hazards and traps.

And yet, as I said, we tend to forget about water encounters when designing dungeon adventures. I know I do…but nobody misses that water breathing spell more than the fighter that just narrowly escaped drowning by kicking his plate mail to the bottom of some dark, subterranean lake or river.

This is the real reason party’s bring 10’ poles with ‘em. Not to test for pit traps (most pits are only going to open with the weight of an adventurer crossing it’s counter-balance) but to test water depth. Shining a torch or lantern on a pool is going to throw back a black reflection unless the water is extremely shallow and covering a shiny or reflective floor. The POLE can be used to test the depth and see if wading will suffice to cross the stream/pool or if more careful measures are needed.

Talk about challenging players! The threat of water and drowning can throw a kink in anyone’s well laid plans…especially if the party neglected to bring along that water breathing spell or potion. Regardless of character level, being forced to navigate lakes and rivers in a dungeon environment will challenge any party of adventurers; especially if low ceilings or rooftop hazards makes flying inconvenient. However, only mid-high level parties should be required to actually participate in UNDERWATER adventures…unless you’re supplying the characters with the D&D equivalent of Harry Potter’s “gillyweed” or something.
: )

Always Give 'Em An Out

Mmm…it’s so easy to talk about what not to do…whether in a D&D game or in real life. “Hindsight is 20x20,” they say. I also like the idea, “Wisdom is not ‘learning from experience.’ That’s experience. WISDOM is learning from others’ experience.”

Call it all a justification for analysis or “mulling over” or “re-living” these old game experiences. Hopefully I can impart some wisdom to other gamers, so that they won’t make the same mistakes I have.

As I’ve written, more than once, I was a self-taught DM. This sometimes led to crazy interpretations of rules. It also led to some less than great DM’ing at times.

I was never much of a ‘railroader’ seeing as how part of the fun of gaming to me was seeing where the players were going to take a game. Plus I didn’t get too involved in “plot arcs” anyway until the 1990s (with the advent of White Wolf games). If a top villain was killed (or not killed) made no nevermind to me…I didn’t create adventures upon which hinged “the fate of the world” or anything…not even in Marvel Superhero games!

However, at times I WAS “too clever for my own good.” This is a problem. As I’ve learned (only recently, and from hard-core analysis of RPG theory), PLAYERS CAN’T READ THE DM’S MIND. Nor should they be expected to do so. Game play expectations should be up front, and CHALLENGES to the players (one of the wonderful perks inherent in OS D&D play) should have more than one solution. In fact, for situations and challenges outside the normal rules and/or scope of the game, a DM should allow ANY REASONABLE SOLUTION PLAYERS SUGGEST TO HAVE A REASONABLE CHANCE OF SUCCESS.

This is important! Ugh! I can’t stress HOW important. Especially with regard to most all tricks and traps (which get invented from whole cloth by DMs or adventure module designers) this needs to be the case. If not, you are forcing the players (not their characters) to read your mind…which just going to lead to a lot of frustration. I’ve had plenty of very intuitive players, ones that had known me and known my tendencies and gaming style for years, and STILL they couldn’t read my mind. If I only present one “out” to them, how crazy am I?

Pretty crazy. Let me give you an example (of course):

One of my earliest D&D memories involved my DMing several friends at the home of my good friend, Jocelyn. Players included, J, Jason, maybe my brother (I don’t remember him being there, though), and a new guy named Brian; the latter was a school chum of Jocelyn. This was in the days of our “Original” Campaign (when we played B/X with a Monster Manual) and the characters involved were high level and much beloved: Bladehawk the fighter and Sneakshadow the thief. Brian had a different, regular gaming group, and he had brought along HIS best character from that campaign: a high level AD&D cleric. At the time I still didn’t know what “AD&D” was, and since he had failed to bring along a copy of the player’s handbook, there were some disputes on the subject.

[at one point, B wanted to use his blade barrier spell. When I told him I’d never heard of it, he searched in vain through my Moldvay and Cook rules looking for it…I’m not sure he knew there was a difference either. In the end, I believe we houseruled something…as I believe we also did with his hammer of thunderbolts!]

Not that it mattered. They never accomplished anything in several hours of play.

The night before, I had caught at least part of, perhaps all of, the Rankin/Bass animated film The Return of the King. This was many years before I ever got around to actually READING Tolkien (I had seen the Rankin/Bass version of The Hobbit, but that was the full extent of my Middle Earth knowledge). For those who haven’t seen the film, well…it’s good, but it picks up mid-story, so if you’re a 9 or 10 year old kid watching it for the first time with no context you might drop most of the content.

However, the imagery was most evocative and being the Great Imitator in those days, I directly stole parts of the plot/film to create my adventure for the next day’s game. Specifically, the Battle of Pelennor Fields.

Some of you see where this is going already, I’m sure…

So our RPG heroes start the game in media res at what might otherwise be known as Minas Tirith, but since that name hadn’t stuck with me, I’m sure I made something up. They’ve been hired (as great heroes) to help repel the invading forces of some ancient evil. What I thought that evil was is lost to me now, though I’m certain it was pretty demonic or diabolic at the time. The bad guys were of course led by the Witch-King of Angmar (again, at the time I never remembered who or what this guy was so he was certainly re-named something else), an invisible figure with flaming eyes and a crown suspended over a suit of spiky armor. Oh and a big sword of course.

And he’s big, and he’s boastful, and of course he has Grond (whose name I probably DID remember) smiting the gates of the fortress, and I myself was very descriptive and evocative as a DM (years later I ran into Brian who ended up going to the same high school as me, though he was two or three grades ahead…he remembered me as “The DM” from this one game session).

Oh, anyway, so the Dark Knight (or whatever he was) is of course shouting about how invulnerable he is, how NO MAN can slay him, how it has been foretold that NO WEAPON OF MAN can even harm him…

…and of course I’m hoping for a kind of Eowyn show-down with the Baddie, right?

Because: The most prominent player in our campaign was my (female) friend Jocelyn with her (female) fighter Bladehawk…a consummate badass of at least 14th level or so (she’d eventually end up around level 24, if I remember correctly) with her magic plate mail and her enchanted talking sword (more on that guy later). I was trying to goad her into a fight, you know?

And of course she wasn’t having any of it.

One of the reasons WHY she was 14th level and why she was so prominent was she always played smart and cagey. Jocelyn knew I was already a bit of a “killer DM” and had watched other PCs get trampled by cyclopses and such. So she wasn’t about to plunge headlong into a fight.

Not that she wasn’t brave, either…she was willing to fight, but was afraid the dude was invulnerable. At some point they used a flying potion or spell so that she could buzz the guy from above and try hitting him with holy water and such…to no effect. She and Brian reviewed the cleric’s spell list to see if there was anything that might defeat the guy…dispel evil, blade barrier, even bless at one point.

But I, the DM, was resolved that the guy could only be defeated in melee combat, and only by a woman. I was too attached to my set-piece combat.

And yet, I wasn’t a railroad-type DM…meaning, it wouldn’t be fair to give away the solution to the puzzle. The players would either figure it out, or they wouldn’t. My way or the highway, so to speak.

Turns out it was the highway…as in, time expired and we all got driven home by Jocelyn’s mom. RIGHT BEFORE we had to pack up our things, J had figured she might as well TRY attacking the thing and was strapping on her sword. But she was doing it fairly reluctantly, figuring I was just going to kill her character (Brian did point out he could raise her from the dead, which might have been the impetus she needed for this measure of last resort). But she still wasn’t very hopeful. Three (four if you count my brother) players had been sitting around a table for hours, with a break for lunch(!), trying to figure out ways to defeat this wraith lord, while the whole time I was going on and on about how “no MAN can defeat me.” Call it a sign of our patriarchal times, but they figured “NO MAN” referred to both male AND female humans. I now remember my brother WAS there, because he had a dwarf character that they tried against the guy…to which the creature proved invulnerable, of course.

On the way home I explained my dastardly plan to my friends who all thought it was fiendishly clever (they’d never seen the film or read LotR themselves, and my 8 year old brother for whatever reason never connected the movie with the adventure despite my hints) but also plainly stated they had ABSOLUTLEY NO IDEA what the hell they were supposed to do. While they had fun (planning and strategizing and repelling orcs) they were slightly disappointed not to have defeated the main bad guy.

And this is MY fault as a DM. My made up “wraith lord” is not a standard monster they may have read about or known. Its vulnerability was not obvious and not revealed. AND I disallowed reasonable attempts by the players to damage it or hinder it in any way, shape or form. Totally lame on my part.

Ugh…I realize this was more than a quarter-century ago, but it still bugs me to this day. Despite the good time had by all, it could have been better, if I had been a bit more flexible…hell, maybe if I’d had some training in how to be a DM. Ah, well.

Let it be a lesson to others!

Single Encounter Adventures

One thing I remember as I review my old gaming records is how often I used to create whole adventures around a single encounter. Whether through laziness (got tired of stocking dungeons), thriftiness (I had no money for modules), or practicality (the short attention spans of young players) some days the only adventure would be one Big Bad…or Big Bad Fight.

I guess the term for this in 21st century parlance would be a “set-piece” encounter, or perhaps a “Boss Fight.” Except I might not even have non-Boss monsters (save perhaps as a warm up encounter). Generally, these One Encounter scenarios were of the scourge variety, something like “the Tarrasque has awakened from centuries long slumber and is ravaging the countryside…what are you going to do?”

The scourge monster doesn’t exist in a dungeon…hell, they may not even have a lair, or treasure of which to speak (though reward was possible from a grateful lord/ruler). XP-wise, I’d generally award a blanket amount of experience depending on the scourge…generally enough that every PC could gain a level from the encounter.

Perhaps an example or two would serve.

When I was youngling, some of my first exposures to fantasy was the animated Rankin/Bass films The Hobbit and The Return of the King. I drew heavily from both for adventures (micro- and otherwise)…the latter, for example, provided me a scourge encounter with a Witch-King figure that duplicates the Battle of the Pelennor Fields (that’s for another post on the perils of being a self-taught DM).

However, from The Hobbit the dragon Smaug makes a great single encounter adventure. I was never too comfortable with placing dragons in dungeons (though I know I did so often enough). I mean, I just pictured dragons as so BIG…how did you get them down those 10’ corridors?

Far better to put the dragon in a big cave at the top of a lonely mountain and have him terrorizing the kingdom, waiting for a group of adventurers to come a-slaying. Sure, the adventurers may encounter a group of, say, trolls or giant spiders on the way to old Smaug’s lair, but there was no additional dungeon that needed to be traversed. Just getting up to the dragon’s mountain lair and figuring out a way to defeat him was “trap and trick” enough. Not to mention the inherent deadliness of an Ancient Red Dragon. Why needlessly complicate or obscure the encounter with a bunch of little, minor encounters. The scourge is a suitable encounter for a party at full strength.

Single Encounter Adventures (SEAs) were some of my favorites back in the day. As long as the encounter was fierce enough, there was plenty with which to occupy a party of adventurers for several hours (real time)…talking, strategizing, planning, encountering, and (if lucky) dividing the loot afterwards.

Not every SEA need be a scourge; any properly scaled antagonist can work for this type of day-long session. Examples: an oppressive Lord/tyrant lives in this castle with his soldiers and maybe a pet wizard or beastie…what are you going to do about it? An evil cleric operates out of this shrine...how are you going to handle him and his acolytes?

A mega-dungeon can require a serious amount of time and commitment from the party wishing to plumb its depths, whereas a one-off encounter with a memorable opponent can be handled in an afternoon. Plus, players can later say, “Hey, remember when we took out Argle-Shmargle the Mighty? Joe and Fred got smoked, but the rest of us came out hella’ rich! That was cool!” Maybe I AM lazy, but we seemed to have a blast with these kind of sessions.