Simple Mass Combat - Birthright Style

[Please excuse the re-post. Blogger decided that Edit is synonymous with Send To Memory Hole.]

"Fool! You cannot harm me. I am protected by tons of ferociously loyal ablative meat!"

"Eh? Is he raving about us?"

Our games are getting close to the 'evict Team Monster, take their land, build immense phallic memorials to self' end game stage.  With the spectre of mass combat looming I thought I'd share my preferred swarm fightan system.

This is, in essence, a B/X-ified version of the super-simple AD&D Birthright skirmish system (which appears to be a simplified take on Battlesystem 2E, which in turn was more or less good old Perren+Gygax Chainmail in a party frock).  Some bits and wrinkles come from WFB, others from the general sea of unattributable common references in which all gamers seem to float. BECMI War Machine gets no love; it's naught but a monstrous spreadsheet-requiring mess IMO.

This system isn't set up to cope with magic-heavy combats or packs of monsters with special attacks.  It's meant to resolve what the kind of havoc the non-speaking extras are inflicting on one another in a die roll or two so we can all get back to the cool stuff (i.e. the PCs single out enemy generals, casters or monsters for their personal attention).

Initiative
1d6 each side. Winner chooses whether to move first or second.

Movement
As normal, or per GM discretion.
Units moved in order of increasing agility: infantry > then cavalry > then fliers.

Hits
Treat HD in the group as hp total. Ignore "+n" hit point adds.
So 60 hobgoblins (1+1HD) has 60 HD, as do a unit of 20 F3 (3HD). Ditto a herd of ten rhinos (6HD) or a gang of four Storm Giants (15HD)...

Damage
Damage per Round = HD up to 7 (then +1/2 HD over 7, "+n" to die = +1 HD) +/- opponents' AC

• Multiple attacks/round = +100% to DPR
• Max damage/round >12 = +100% to DPR

Fighting
Each side rolls die, higher wins.

• Winner only adds difference between rolls to the DPR. 
• Loser inflicts DPR only.
• Both sides lose on a tied roll.

HD remaining	Resolution Die
Full to 3/4	1d10
Full to 3/4	1d8
1/2 to 1/4	1d6, half DPR
1/4 or less	1d4, half DPR

+1 to die per 2 combat-relevant spell levels cast by side that round
+1 bonus if side has PC/unique NPCs
+2 bonus (one round only) if ambushing
-1 penalty if enemy has terrain advantage

Engaged Groups
Normal engagement rules usually apply: group engages with group on 1 for 1 basis.  Leftover groups can choose where they engage for maximum effect.
If multiple groups attack one group, roll 1 resolution die per group.  Total the side's dice then compare scores.

Morale
Morale checks per B/X, because 2d6 Reaction Rolls are the path of righteousness. ;)

• Check after losing first round of combat;
  
• Check again at 1/2 starting HD. 
  
• Fearsome monstrous enemies may require a Morale check to charge, or if they charge (no one wants to be the first to face *that*).

What happens:

• Pass one morale check = "Fight on!"
• Pass to morale checks = "To the death!"
• Fail first morale check = shaken (fighting withdrawal)
• Fail second moral check = "Leggit lads!" (rout)

Fleeing Combat
1 unopposed strike (DPR, no dice roll) against routing side.

Routs and Pursuit
Pursuit comes down to relative speeds. 
Base speed in tens of feet/inches +1d6 (+2d6 if cavalry, +3d6 if flying). 

• Fleeing side wins: no damage inflicted. 
• Pursuing side wins: inflicts DPR. 

Casualties
Half of casualties are deaths, the remainder wounded/incapacitated.  Victors can recover their wounded, take prisoners and hostages, butcher their foes, etc.

Advanced
Not really advanced, more 'one step up from basic mutual face-stabbery'.

• Missile Weapons: DPR inflicted automatically.  Melee-armed troops can't counter attack until range is closed.
• Lances or charge attack: double damage 1st round only.
• Reach weapons: double damage if charged.
• Mamuk-riders: archers riding gigantic beasts should be treated as a separate unit of archers unengaged by non-archer troops until their mount is slain.
• Aerial Troops: flying troops should be treated as having terrain advantage vs non-fliers. Fliers can't be pursued by non-fliers if they rout from combat.
  

Sieges
The long slow slog of blockade and barrage aren't covered here.  Consult your GM.

• Sallies: resolve as normal.
• Mining: no reinforcing groups can be added to a combat in progress.
• Escalades: land-bound assaulters roll 1d4 to defender's 1d10 until they win a round of combat; defender enjoys terrain advantage.  Aerial attackers fight as normal.  Yes, this makes escalades a slog requiring overwhelming numbers and a run of good luck.  I'd call that accurate.
• Storming: assaulting a breach should be resolved as normal, with defender having terrain advantage.

Monstrous Creatures and NPCs
These brutes will generally just munch their way through spear-carriers (don't even roll for them, just inflict DPR and describe the carnage) until PCs get in their way.

• Monstrous creatures with special attacks (basilisk, dragons, wraiths, medusae, etc) should be treated as casting one or more appropriate spells each round (flesh to stone, cause fear, fireball, death spell, etc).
• Monstrous creatures with special defences can either be treated as casting spells per round (couerl, troglodytes, etc) or as ignoring mundane damage entirely (shadows, wraiths, elementals, etc).
• Troll units regain 1HD per troll every other round of combat.
• Hydras and similar multi-attacking but essentialy non-magic-using brutes can be fought as a unit in their own right. 

Thoughts?


JOESKY'S LAW Compliance Content:
Not applicable. This post is about mechanics for stabbing large quantities of dudes in the face at once, and is thus already relevant to The Mighty One's interests.

Further Reading
Nine and Thirty Kingdoms on non-mass mass combat
Grendelwulfs Combat Scale mass combat system (simple and elegant)

Pic Source
The inimitable Ian Miller (purveyor of only the finest nightmare fuel) of course.

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Appendix: Examples
(This is just me thinking aloud and getting a handle on relative balance. You'll probably want to skip this entirely.)
Note: the DPR figures used here are exclusive of any modifications from Resolution Dice.

Knight vs. Giant Gobo-Ninjas
30 1HD knights (30HD, AC3, +1 TH, lances)
vs. 12 3+1HD bugbears (36HD, AC6, +4TH, axes). 

The knights will inflict (1+6=) 14 DPR in round 1, 7 DPR in subsequent rounds. 
The bugbears will inflict (4+3=) 7 DPR.

This is likely to be a close fight, with the outcome heavily affected by situational factors (Are the bugbears ambushing or in good cover? How good is the relative morale of the two sides?), or by the luck of the dice.

Phalanx vs. Lucanian Cows
2 9HD war elephants (18HD, AC5, +9 TH, trample 2x2d8)
vs. 100 1HD spearmen (100HD, AC6, +1TH, spears)

The elephants will inflict (8+6 x3=) 42 DPR plus (1+6=) 7 DPR from archers in the howdahs.
The spearmen will inflict (1+5=) 12 DPR if charged, 6 DPR otherwise.

This is likely to be a squash match with Dumbo and Babar curbstomping the poor bloody infantry unless they can either panic the pachyderms or skewer them like pincushions as they charge.  There's a reason that elephants were used as shock troops by any army that had access to them for nigh-on 2000 years...

The Legion of Blue-Nosed Doom vs. Old Ten Heads
A ten-headed Hydra in a swamp (10HD, AC5, +8 TH, multiple attacks, terrain advantage)
vs. 80 Hobgoblin legionaries (80HD, AC6, +2TH, melee weapons)

The hydra will inflict (9+6 x2=) 32 DPR.
The hobgoblins will inflict (2+5=) 7 DPR.

The hobs probably have the sheer numbers to beat Old Ten Heads to death, but they'll lose dozens of warriors doing so.  This type of "No time to wait for the archers.  Drown the beast beneath our dead!" situation is what Morale checks were created for...

Orcs vs. The Mighty Orcgrinder
1 Superhero (8HD, AC-1, +6 TH, sword)
vs. 15 Orcs (15HD, AC 6, +1TH)

Superhero will inflict (6+6=) 14 DPR exclusive of magical effects.
Orcs will inflict (1-1=) 0 DPR

A one-sided 'buzzsaw through raw meat' situation.  The Orcs will be relying on luck alone (the score from their die roll) to come out ahead.  They should also probably roll a Morale check when they see their opponent hove into view (as the Chainmail rule).  Let's face it; he's only leaving that last survivor alive to spread the tale...

Gnawers,shield vs. Gnawers,flesh
10 2HD Ghouls (20HD, AC6, +2 TH, multiple attacks, paralysis)
vs. 30 Berserks (30HD, AC7, +2 TH, never check morale)

Ghouls will inflict (2+7 x2=) 18 DPR.
Berserkers will inflict (2+6=) 12 DPR.

A surprisingly close fight.  Ghoul paralysis (treated as Hold Person cast each round) and multiple attacks will tip the balance against the berserkers, not that they're likely to care less.  In the immortal words of Spoon: "I hope I give you the shits you WIMP!"

End.

AD&D 2e: Virtues of the Ginger Stepchild

Although I came into D&D just before it was released (heck! the first few Dragon magazines I ever bought had full page ads for the shiny newness pictured to the right) I've never been a great fan of AD&D2E as a rule set.

Even when our avowedly neophile neophyte gaming group made the move from the classic orange spine 1E books to the newer (and thus - to our teenage minds - self-evidently better) black spine 2e books we were really always playing the same old cargo cult mash-up of BD&D/1E during the 2E era that we had been before. We couldn't have given you page references for anything other than the most obvious stuff, and we certainly couldn't have discoursed learnedly on the differences between editions 1 and 2.

Sure, a lot of the organisational issues and odder rules holdovers of the AD&D 1E rulebooks were 'rationalised' by the 2E books, and the Monstrous Manual - when finally released - was probably the definitive D&D monster book of all time. But we still always had the sense that 2E was just a revision and reprint, rather than an entirely new game system. Even as teens we could tell that 2E was really no more than "AD&D, revised and reprinted". It certainly wasn't the mental revolution that later edition shifts were.

In my opinion the greatest virtue of AD&D 2E wasn't the clarification of the core rules, and it certainly wasn't the interminable stream of largely interchangeable "Complete" splatbooks that regularly dropped steaming from the cloaca of the TSR release engine. The true jewel in the crown of 2E was its settings.

Yes, yes. Purge the heretic! Burn the unclean! Bury him in his own sandbox that his evil might not warp the minds of others. :p

All edition snobbery aside, the numerous campaign settings released during the 2E era (1989-1999) were some of the most imaginative, thought-provoking settings ever released for D&D. For the purposes of this argument please disregard the splatbook bloat that ultimately afflicted the various settings and helped to destroy TSR as a force in the gaming industry, and just look at the initial boxed sets for Spelljammer, Planescape, Dark Sun, Birthright, Al-Qadim, etc. in isolation. Each of these boxes offered you the chance to extend your D&D game in ways that the core rulebooks only ever hinted it:

• Did you love Expedition to the Barrier Peaks? Here's a whole setting full of space-borne wackiness we like to call Spelljammer. Go nuts!
• Did you always look forward to the playing house / fantasy battles elements of the D&D endgame? Here stands Birthright, ready to serve.
• Hankering for a bit of Arabian Nights / Sinbad magic in yer D&D? Al-Qadim is here to service all your orientalist cliche needs effendi.
• Want more sword-and-planet pulp adventure and Dune elements in your game? Dark Sun! I choose you!

I will concede that mixed in with the life-enhancing, game-changing, mind-stretching stuff there was also some real 'thrown together to meet a deadline' drivel. Jakandor, Maztica, and the wholesale sack-and-pillage of the D&D Known World setting spring to mind as being among the more egregious crimes-against-gaming of the late TSR era; and the less said about the eminently forgettable Council of Wyrms the better IMO. But I can honestly say I believe that if Dark Sun, Al-Qadim, Spelljammer, or even woefully metaplot-afflicted and mechanically kludged Birthright had sported a Judges Guild imprint on the box instead of a TSR brand then they'd be appreciated for their true potential by grogbloggers today.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel a plundering spree coming on. Time to get the old boxed sets out of storage.

Magic in the Vaults game

Several of the grogblogs have grumbled in recent months about the prevalence of magic as utilitarian substitute for technology in contemporary settings. I'm inclined to agree with their (generally unanimous) position that magic - even as a tool in the hands of PCs - should be mysterious, evocative and above all, hilariously dangerous. As such, here are a few collected thoughts and ukases about magic in the Vaults game.

Limited Spell Selection
The Vaults game is supposed to be about scrabbling in the ruins and wrestling lost arcane lore from the clutches of inimical foes. So I've decided to trim the initial spell lists for all starting characters down to the spells shown on Labyrinth Lord, page 42 (get yer copy here if you haven't already). All arcane casters use the wizard/elf table, all divine casters use the cleric table (although this may need some tinkering for the sake of the druids...).

There are a few reasons for this:

1. A limited spell selection feels more old school.
2. New players won't be overwhelmed with choice.
3. It means I can dump and/or modify problematic spells from the off.

Everything else in the SRD is currently a lost spell which has to be recovered through adventuring.
The rest of the Spell Compendium? Well, that's entirely DM's option at the moment...

The Pseudo-science of Magic
I've decided that magic in the Vaults game will essentially be a Chaotic phenomenon. Although it does obey its own - oddly intuitive - rules, it is able to short-circuit the cause-and-effect of the everyday world. This makes using magic as dangerous and unpredictable a lifestyle choice as becoming a unicycling juggler of nitroglycerine: sure it's impressive, but everyone knows it can only possibly end really badly.

Like a worker in a nuclear power plant, the more hands-off a character is from the material he works with, the more insulated he will be from the adverse effect. In essence:

• Alchemists can make arcane explosives and other superscience gizmos by channelling arcane power into external prepared objects. Sure, things might still go Boom! if the mix isn't quite right, but at least it won't be the alchemist's head doing the exploding.
• Vancian casters (magicians and wizards) are able to tap the fundamental laws more immediately - but at greater risk - by directing it through 'lenses' of carefully crafted arcane pathways in their own minds. They do this in accordance with ancient rites and techniques of sympathetic magic laid down in the days of yore.
• Sorcerers channel magic directly through themselves, rather than into external implements or via constructs of arcane energy, and they pay the cost in spades. What they're doing is roughly on a par with using a plutonium-headed hammer to beat down a plutonium nail. This is why you see sorcerers wandering around with horns, bat wings, claws, sulphurous breath, and the like. They're not "of the blood of dragons" (whatever they might claim).

How exactly I'm going to implement this in play (some form of casting check, ripping off Grognardia Jim's price of magic table, adapting WFRP's winds of magic rules, repurposing the geomancer mutation tables from "Complete Divine" [amended]) is an open question as yet. More research needed here I expect.

Divine casters (clerics and druids) and demon cultists avoid this whole mess by getting someone else entirely to handle the magic for them. Problem of cranial kablooey-ism deftly avoided, at the cost of being at the continual beck and call of their divine - or infernal - patron.

Magic Trains and Flying Ships
There are no magic trains, no scheduled flying ship routes, no flying carpet taxi services, and no gnomish telegraphs in the Vaults game. Anything like that will be a one-off wonder in its own right, probably with some side effects from the artefacts charts in the 1E DMG...or possibly the Gamma World artifacts mishap charts. Alchemical hand grenades and potions of Jekyll & Hydery are fine; but stuff that looks like it belongs in "The Book of Wondrous Inventions" is a step too far for my tastes.

20th level, ho hum

“…the original D&D assumed an endgame where you would build your stronghold, acquire vassals and tenants, and become A Major Player In The World's Politics. That endgame seems to have virtually disappeared.”
-- Mike Mornard, hat tip to Sham for the quote.

One thing that 3E lacks that earlier editions of the game enjoyed is any sense of explicit, meaningful character progression within the game world. Sure the requisite components of such development are all there (level scaling abilities, ever-increasing wealth, the Leadership feat), but to someone coming new to the game there is no explicit declaration that "this is what you are capable of/should be doing at this level".

PCs have - at least by reading the rules as written - no social context beyond 'adventurer', and no meaningful benchmark of their ability to affect the world other than the system level mechanic of the Challenge Rating. As a result PCs in 3E exist, by default, in a solipsistic void. At 15th level characters are, by the RAW, just bigger, tougher versions of their 5th level selves doing the 'same old, same old' with bigger numbers (edition war flamebait: this applies in spades for 4E).

Now, back in the sepia-toned old days this sense of dislocation was explicitly not the case. Pre-WOTC D&D was divided up almost into a series of 'mini-games' (pace Keith and Frank). Although already implicit in OD&D this succession of ever-more involved challenges and potential character objectives was perhaps stated most explicitly in BECMI D&D:

• Basic Set (levels 1-3) - Explore the dungeon. Get to understand the game rules
• Expert Set (levels 4-14) - Explore the wilderness. Learn more about the game world.
• Companion Set (levels 15-24) - Explore the world. Carve out and rule a domain.
• Master Set (levels 25-36) - Explore the planes. Challenge the gods for immortality.

These expected play styles were specifically supported by new game rules introduced in each boxed set. Basic Set players didn't have to worry their pretty little heads about the world beyond the dungeon; and Expert Set players weren't required to know the cosmology of the multiverse inside-out. Some argue that the foci of attention of the Companion and Master boxes were a wrong turn for D&D; a game which - at its core - really was about looting treasure from ancient, trap-filled underworlds. I feel that this ignores the obvious pulp connections that even these sets had. Conan, Kane and John Carter all led armies and trampled the thrones of kings beneath their heel. Elric, Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser all travelled to other planes and fought or outwitted godlings. Sure, the quest for immortality might not be purest Vance; but it's definitely pulp heroic in feel.

So, for many years the expectation was that, at about 9th level, PCs in both Basic D&D and AD&D were supposed to establish a base of operation, gain a small army as a class ability, and set about subjugating those around them and reshaping the game world in their image. (I am not making this up. Go download Labyrinth Lord or OSRIC and look in the character section. It's all in there!) AD&D's "Birthright" setting had to muddy the waters a little by allowing you to play a ruler from level one, but the basic idea still held true: ruling the masses was part and parcel of the D&D experience. In the immortal words of Mel Brooke: "It's good to be king."

Come the advent of 3E and this intended progression from tomb-robber to explorer, then from local baron to conqueror, and finally to figure of legend was all but completely discarded in favour of MOAR POWAH!!! The "math is hard" aspects of ruling a fantasy kingdom, running a thieves guild, proselytising the heathen, or becoming a magus of power and renown were to be ditched in favour of adventurer (a wandering sword- or spell-slinger) becoming a permanent career in itself. I feel the game suffered greatly for this.

Whereas back in the day a high level character might be a figure of political importance who knew that utilising the right help (soldiers, assassins, sages, etc.) was part of the path to power; in D&D3 he was a dude with a big red S on his chest who didn't need any help saving the world because low level characters were naught but squishy pink blobs. And, let's face it, there are only so many stories you can tell about an invulnerable big blue boy scout.

True to the old axiom that players don't respect what can't hurt them, high-level characters in 3E D&D generally ended up acting like the new generation of supers in Alex Ross' "Kingdom Come" (capsule summation: thoughtless dickheads). Having no need of the proles, why should the PCs care about them? The tramp of PC-headed armies marching across the land in time to Anvil of Crom was replaced by the stirring chords of a certain John Williams anthem as players lived out Nietzschean power fantasies. And lo! the grognards wept for what was lost.

An unintended consequence of this superheroicisation ("Hey look ma, new coinage!") was the entire field of theoretical optimisation number-worshipping power wank. All sense of a scale of PC power in relation to ordinary human beings was lost. Rules lawyers darkened the face of the land like a plague of neckbearded, cheeto-stained locusts, 20th level became the new 'name' level, Pun-Pun arose from the Abyss, cattle died in the fields, grieving mothers wept, and the crocus did not bloom.

It may be tilting at windmills on my part (although the evil whirling birdmincers deserve it), but I hope there's a way to reconcile these two views of D&D progression to the possible enrichment of both. Wouldn't it be nice to have the flamboyence of 3E D&D, but tamed by the sensibilities and tastes of the old school? So here's a few suggestions from yours truly.

The four stages of play outlined for BECMI D&D above have a rough correspondence with the idea of there being four tiers of play in 3E D&D. I have seen these typified as:

Tier	Levels/CRs	Examples
Gritty	1-5	Movie Conan, Kane, Indiana Jones
Pulp Heroic	6-10	XLG, Luther Arkwright, Judge Dredd, Lord of the Rings, The n Musketeers
Wuxia	11-15	Crouching Tiger, Hero, Nemesis the Warlock
Superhero	16-20	Justice League, The Authority
[Godlike	21+	Thor, Chronicles of Amber, Sandman]

Characters within the same tier are generally a meaningful threat to one another.
Gratis LOTR example: named Orcs vs. members of the Fellowship, the cave troll vs. the Fellowship, generic humans vs. generic orcs

Those one tier removed are either mooks or impressive menaces.
LOTR example: generic Orcs vs. members of the Fellowship, Sam vs. Shelob

Two or more tiers removed means that the lower tiered character is - mathematically speaking - no meaningful threat to the more powerful. Lower tiered characters are, exceptional circumstances aside, no more than background colour, while higher tiered characters are little less than a force of nature.
LOTR example: the hobbits vs. the Nazgul, generic orcs vs. Ents, generic Rohirrim vs. Mumakil, etc.

When looked at this way even a 10th level character - a guy who in D&D-land has his own keep, generally flies around on a griffon, goes toe-to-toe with giants, consorts with wish granting genies, or can kill with a word - is suddenly a big deal again. He's not a partially complete ‘build’ (and boy do I hate that particular piece of jargon); he's already a power in the land in his own right.

So, given that 10th level characters are able to bellow “Kneel before Zod!” at ordinary people without class levels, that does this do for the game? When the numbers on the character sheet are translated back into the game actions they are supposed to represent you can quite clearly see that Mr 10th-level McBadass can do more or less what he likes to lower tier characters. Said group comprising – at least if you ascribe to Justin Alexander’s Calibrating Your Expectations article (some don’t, but they’ve never offered me an explanation that amounted to more than “Baaaaw! Butthurt!”) – every human who has ever lived in our world. The greatest historical heroes and geniuses in history are not a patch on Mr 10th-level McBadass.

The thing is, there are still a select group of rare and powerful characters and creatures out there that are to Mr 10th-level Badass what he is to the tier 1 peons. There are guys in 3E's version of D&D-land who, according to the Core rules (let alone the Epic Level Joke Book), are seriously able to tell four Pit Fiends a day to take a number and get in line to wait for their kicking! How on Earth does one go about becoming that absurdly hardcore? Surely it takes more than just grinding mobs?

One idea that I saw suggested by always excellent Philotomy is that of progressing beyond 10th level has a cost to the character (hat tip to Pat Armstrong for the link). In essence the idea runs that anyone over 10th level or so has progressed beyond the bounds of normal human ability, usually by investing themselves with magical power. As befits the pulpy ethos of old(-ish) school gaming, magic in the Vaults game is an inherently perilous thing. Its barely contained power inevitably and inexorably warps the physique, psyche and spirit of those who tap into its power.

So, that’s all those mad wizards, fate-cursed warlords, tragic anti-heroes, vampire nobles, and villains warped into monstrous forms explained in one fell swoop. What's next?

A house rule I might institute is that characters above 10th level have to bond themselves in some manner in exchange for power beyond the normal human limits. I’m not thinking in terms of the execrable “Weapons of Gimping Legacy” nonsense, but perhaps more in terms of thematically appropriate stuff that adds to the character flavour without imposing specific numerical penalties. Just off the top of my head:

• geases (as in the celtic taboo, rather than the spell)
• tying life essence to a specific weapon or object
  
• physical immersion or spiritual connection to fonts of power
• leeching the spiritual essences of others in a quasi-vampiric manner
  
• becoming the focus of a hero cult
  
• entering dark pacts with demons, a god or elder beings

This would all help to tie characters more strongly to factions, events, locations and totemic objects within the game; largely for the simple, cynical reason that most players actually honestly care where their next hit of character power comes from. They salivate like Pavlov’s dogs at the thought of that next level. It also allows the DM easy access to themes of temptation, hero-worship, hunger for power, and the costs of same.

The variant experience system I’m using (Berin Kinsman's session-based system) means that characters will generally reach 10th level after about a year of weekly game play (rather than haring through 20 levels in a year as 3E and its' red-haired offspring "Pathfinder" are apparently geared for). Beyond 10th level Berin's mod suggests another 50-odd sessions of play to reach 14th level, then another 50 to reach 17th, then another 50 to reach 20th. Yes, that's a lot of playing time to devote to a single character. In effect it's a cap (albeit a soft one) on level advancement. But then, as I see it, advancing beyond the 10th level threshold into the sunny uplands of high-level power is intended to be slow, demanding and arduous.

Top this slowed rate of advancement off with the aforementioned gradual dehumanisation through the seduction of power, and you've an instant recipe for grim pulp heroism goodness.

Thoughts?

version 2 - edited 23/03/09