Showing posts with label mad science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mad science. Show all posts

Friday, 22 June 2012

Bestiary of the Vaults: Turboghouls

Turboghoul
No. Enc.:  - (2d6)   
Align:  Chaotic Noisy
Move:  240' (80'), special   
AC:  6
HD:  3
Att:  2 or 1 (2 claws, overrun or lasso)   
Dmg: 1d3/1d3 or special
Save:  F3   
Morale:  9
HC:  XXI (TT:B)

An experiment in thaumonetic augmentation gone horribly wrong, or fallen ophanim, or damned human remnants cursed to perpetual nomadism, or a reified manifestation of settled mans' fear of the predatory nomad, or the result of an unknown memestorm, or just some mad wizard's twisted joke; whatever their origin the people of the Wilds know and fear turboghouls as monstrous speed freaks from a surreal otherworld.

These hyperactive cannibals hoon about the Wilds on self-powered prosthetic wheels sowing chaos and fear. Their idea of a fun evening: tear into an isolated settlement under cover of night, capture the inhabitants, and gnaw off their legs. Those few who survive the agony and trauma of a turboghoul 'hazing' are turned into more turboghouls by methods obscene and obscure.

Being inherently nomadic (and understandably averse to stairs and ladders) these creatures are never encountered underground or in a fixed lair. They are undead and can be turned by clerics as 3HD creatures.

Thanks to the snarling howls of their engines and their constant excitable screaming turboghouls never enjoy surprise. Their assaults rely on crazy bravado, rudimentary hit-and-run tactics, and sheer speed.

Turboghouls attack with a charging overrun attack, with lassos, or with strikes from their wickedly sharp claws.
  • Overrun: turboghoul moves at triple normal speed (howling like Halford all the while), causing 2d6 damage on impact.
  • Lasso hits: no damage, save vs. paralysis or become entangled. Entangled targets of man-size or smaller will be dragged away at high speed by their whooping, screeching captor (this causes 0-3 (1d4-1) damage/round). The damage stops only when either the turboghoul or character dies. Rules for cutting a rope? Cause 1hp damage vs. AC1d6 (varies round to round).
  • Claw attack: 1d3 damage + paralysis for 2d4 turns (save negates). Steal Momentum: turboghoul adds half the normal movement rate of a creature it has paralysed to its own movement for the duration of the paralysis effect.
Unlike their grave-robbing kin turboghouls have no bite attack. This is because they are all punctilious in wearing head protection when traveling at speed. Roll d30 for each pack of turboghouls encountered:

d30
1    sack w. eyeholes
2    bucket w. eyeholes
3    coalscuttle w. eyeholes
4    mask, clown
5    mask, fanged iron
6    mask, gimp
7    mask, guy fawkes
8    mask, gas-
9    mask, welding
10    mask, hockey
11    mask, tights
12    headscarf, flowery
13    headscarf, beduoin
14    hood, liripiped
15    hood, monastic
16    turban, elaborate
17    hat, sombrero
18    hat, stetson + bandanna
19    hat, fancy feathered
20    hat, wizard's pointy
21    helmet, monstrous skull
22    helmet, common
23    helmet, knightly
24    helmet, winged
25    helmet, pickelhaub
26    helmet, futuristic
27    helmet, football
28    helmet, extra-spiky chaotic
29    birdcage
30    goldfish bowl


Turboghouls have little respect for any being slower than themselves, and none at all for anyone who lacks respectable haberdashery. Those without hats will be lassoed and eaten first.

Known turboghoul variations:

Hoverghoul - Inhabit swamps. 180' move over water or flat land.
Jetghoul - Inhabit wide open plains. 240' flying move.
Tankghoul - punky-looking turboghouls on all-terrain tracks. AC4, 150' move.
Springhoul - *Boing* "Time for death!" 120' move, with non-magical blink effect at will.

And, for Djangos Gurnery

Turboghoul 
P/M/S: 10/6/12
Skills: Dodge(P) 6, Melee (P) 5, Crazy bike acrobatics (P) 4, Navigation (M) 3, Select cool hat (S) 2
Powers: Paralyzing touch, Turbo nutter superspeed (move up to 80mph in 5 second bursts)


Pic source: an unholy kludging together of existing art by actual artists Kev Walker and Dawn Breaker.

Monday, 18 June 2012

Lets Read Mythus pt17

After a couple of weeks of slacking off like some kind of lazy slacking slacker from Slacksville it is time for the performing bogmonkey to once again shoulder the yoke and plough on with Let’s Read Mythus like he means it.

Having finished our extended swedge through skills - which has probably driven away all but the most ghoulishly fascinated of readers - we finally enter the dark and bloody ground that is Chapter 12: Combat. Or, as I prefer to think of it:



As anyone who has ever read an RPG may have anticipated, the Combat chapter of Advanced Mythus is a big brütal chunk of text and tables. To be precise it is no less than 67 pages (pp208-275) of the rulebook, which some people would consider enough space in which to write an entire game.

Thankfully for the sanity of all involved the Combat chapter is broken down into a series of largely self-contained sections, which seems to indicate that some proofreading and meaningful editorial input happened.


Not visible in this image: Physical Combat, Kitchen Sink

The delightful new discovery of clear and distinct subject headings does make my job of précis a little easier, but it’s still not exactly a walk in the park of RISUS-ine brevity.

I don’t exactly begrudge Mythus this profligate expenditure of page count for a couple of reasons you may (or may not) agree with. To whit:
  1. There is a lot of meat here. I mean a *lot*. Mythus combat appears to be substantially more involved than many well-loved classic "I roll to whack ‘im!" systems. I mean, you have rules here for about 8+ ways of thinking people to death even before you get to ‘how to stab’.
  2. Many gamers (at least in my experience) consider the combat chapter the point at which an RPG stands or falls. Rightly or not the logic seems to be that if a game can’t model combat in a coherent, interesting manner, then why trust that the designers did anything else right? Contrariwise: get the rules for the fast-moving, high-stakes situation of combat right, and you probably have a workable game chassis half done...

One last detail that may or may not be relevant: this chapter has a different page header image to the one found in the preceding chapters. The themed page headers are a nice touch, which makes for a handy 'flip to' guide if nothing else.

Not Frazetta by any stretch, but it fills the space

And now, to quote the opening sentence of the chapter: "So, the HPs have got themselves into a fight?" (Mythus, p208)

Advanced Mythus combat -- as those who have followed this archaeological misadventure since the Mythus Prime may expect -- is devoutly RPG orthodox:

Surprise > Initiative > Hit > Damage/Effect

Such adherence to the time-hallowed traditions of RPGs (and wargames) is only to be expected from the man instrumental in bringing us the RPG to which all others are mere 'fix this game' fantasy heartbreakers. For once in Advanced Mythus "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" appears to be a general governing principle.

Pre-Combat

Stuff you need to do before the glorious bloodletting can start. Hey, don't knock it; even the Vikings did their prep work before setting of on a slaughtering spree (their due diligence involved running longships over condemned prisoners: Mythus combat doesn’t quite ask that much).

(Just an aside: these boxouts are a godsend, and you can probably run combat based on them alone.)

Establish the Environment


Three paragraphs to tell us that the GM needs to decide who is where and what the local environment is like. The text adds very little to the boxed combat summary.

Determine Surprise


This section opens with the admonition that "The next thing to do before wading in and swinging is to determine whether either of the parties has surprise." You can tell someone was having fun writing the Combat chapter.

Natural Surprise
Not strictly 'surprise' as you or I might understand the word, Natural Surprise in Advanced Mythus actually covers everything that D&D did with its rules for encounter distances, evasion, and the like. Long story short: one side or other always gets Natural Surprise, and can choose to evade for 1d10 rounds, or peacefully confront for the purposes of parley, or attack (with automatic initiative in the first round). Sadly there’s no option in Advanced Mythus for hilariously dumb "stand and gawp at each other for up to two rounds" mutual surprise situations that could arise in AD&D.

Total Surprise
Again, not surprise according to a plain English interpretation of the word. Total Surprise covers ambushes (usually) planned and executed in advance through use of skills. Requires a skill roll against Criminal Activities, Physical (the Ambush or Hide sub-areas are suggested, which seems logical enough). It's suggested that the better the plan presented by the players, the easier the DR should be.
Success = your side gets a free round and automatic initiative (as Natural surprise) in the second round.
Crit = 2 free rounds + automatic first go in round three.
Fail = you only get Natural Surprise.
Fumble = you get no advantage. If the GM fancies the opposition might even gain Natural Surprise on you.

There’s also the option to try and enhance Natural Surprise to Total Ambushtastic Surprise without the benefit of prior planning by making individual "Moderate" DR Criminal Activities, Physical (Ambush) rolls for each ambusher. The rule is a bit odd, in that some having ambushers fail their rolls doesn’t negate the success of others. So you can still be ambushed by /some of/ a gang of bushwhackers, even though spotting their mates will have you on your guard. Oh well...

The whole Surprise section could do with a good hard proofreading. The text is ambiguous and poorly worded in places, and the rules for Natural vs. Total surprise could probably do with some re-ordering. You know: "Total Surprise? (Y/N), then Natural Surprise", rather than vice-versa. And the idea of partially successful ambushes still granting a free round of action ~and~ automatic initiative in the next round: that’s an outright unexploded minefield of arguments waiting to happen.

TL:DR: surprise rules in AM are passable, but nowt revolutionary. You probably have access to more entertaining rules already. *cough* GURPS Goblins *cough*

Initiative and Persona Actions

Strictly RPG Orthodox, albeit with the inevitable Advanced Mythus fiddlyness:
Declare action, and then roll 1d10 +/- modifiers.
  • One action/character/round. 
  • Actions taken in ascending order.

The basics are all there in the boxout. Additional details, worked examples and optional rules then pad this slick elegance out to a full two pages. (*gluk gluk*)

Stat modifiers to initiative are pretty intuitive ("A decent Physical Neural Speed score makes you a quicker shot. Makes sense"), but the Speed Factors definitely merit some additional mention. Yes you perverted, masochistic AD&D/OSRIC-lovers, that means exactly what you think. I’ll just leave you to go hog wild on these, shall I?



Everyone else: Speed Factors mean that anything and everything you might want your imaginary gonk to do modifies your stat-modified initiative score in some way. Speed Factors will probably be catnip to AD&D players.

They’re all a bit much for me though: I'm a dumb-and-happy 1d6/side/round Basic boy. YMMV.

There are some right howlers in the Initiative section, not least in the combat movement rules, which are vague enough to make abstract combat games like OD&D seem hardcore simulation-ey. Movement at full speed (modified by other actions taken) is assumed, so at least there’s no fiddly square counting. But this movement is abstracted as instantaneous, simultaneous and uninterruptible*. So, for all intensive porpoises, movement in baseline Advanced Mythus combat is by instajumping blinkyportation.

(* Wot, no Wait/Reserve Action option? Nope, sorry. Only an ‘elect to go last’ option. So no ‘waiting to react to his move’. Keeps things simple, but its likely to merrily kick immersion in the crotch.)

Want to half-move and attack? You can, but it costs you both penalties to initiative (move = 6 + weapon Speed Factor) at full whack. So your quick lunging dash into combat likely goes off *after* the other guy instantaneously moves (twice as far) away from your attack. No I’m not joking. I here quote: "...movement is always assumed to occur before combat in simultaneous action!" (AM, p211) Cheers.

*sits back to listen to the simulationist types froth and gnaw their shields*

Then there are the turboghouls in one of the worked examples. These guys close to melee range at a speed of 180 yards/CT, or 36 metres/second (about 80mph unless my maths has been adversely affected by the boozahol). Are speed freak biker ghouls a thing on Aerth then?

So standard Advanced Mythus initiative is a bit, let’s be nice and just say ‘wobbly on its feet’. The section might not fit  any of the strict catagories outlined for the Mythus Drinking Game but the sheer emergent oddness on offer is definitely worth a drink. *gluk gluk*

Optional Spacing of Actions
This rule, which moves things away from stop-motion combat into a more fluid form, seems a little RuneQuest inflected to me. You take one action, and then take your next action (move, attack, whatever) again every 10 -Attack-Ranks- initiative spaces later (faster for non-standard weapon attacks).

Martial artists: not dissimilar to Woody Woodpecker

The round ends once the slowest (highest Init score) character involved has taken an action.

For the purposes of unopposed (Total) Surprise rounds we’re told that 20 initiative counts = one CT (~5 seconds). So this rule offers the option of measuring actions in combat by the ¼-second, or about as fast as a human can consciously react. Even AD&D didn’t get this anal about things! "Granular enough for ya?"

One possible oversight: there's no guidance on how/if the Speed Factor rules for different actions (moving, tumbling, etc.) are supposed to interact with this optional system. Do you, for example, move 10 initiative positions after your initial action, or 16 later? Nope. Nothing. That could either indicate a lack of playtesting of this option, or just an implicit authorial view that such decisions are best left to the tastes of individual gaming group. Who knows?

Spaced Action Initiative would appear to change the dynamic of Mythus combat from the standard "Your init comes up: go nova, then stand around to survey the carnage" method to one with more ebb and flow within a round. Whether spending this additional time and bookkeeping on combat is your idea of fun is a personal matter. Would I use this? No. Oh dear lord no! But then I am a simpleminded creature who balks at anything more complex than "I go: you go". If you like the RQ combat action economy it might be worth a look.

One small mercy: at least the writers of Advanced Mythus didn’t go for a Judge Dredd RPG-style map of actions divided up by initiative segments.

Just goes to show: it could always be worse.
(Funky slant and drop shadow as original formatting)

Avoidance


Rules for avoiding unwanted situations if surprised. Not mentioned at all in the Combat Summary boxouts, which might have actually been helpful.

Given the examples on offer (avoiding bandits, dodging falling rocks, avoiding the gaze of a vampire and basilisk) these rules seem to combine into one simple rule everything divided up between the evasion tables and saving throws in all known forms of Classic D&D. This sort of universal mechanic appears more than a little lost and lonely in the ‘a rule for everything’ world of Advanced Mythus, but its brave, to say the least.


"Tell me little rule, are you quite certain that you are in the right place? 
This is Mythus you know. We’re all detailed-fixated neckbeards here..."

Avoidance is a straight d% roll against the combined Speed Attributes in a given trait  (sorry) TRAIT. So a Physical avoidance roll would be PMSpd + PNSpd, a Mental avoidance roll would be MMSpd + MRSpd, and a Spiritual one would be SMSpd + SPSpd. Factors against the HP (e.g. blast area effect) increase DR by 1 or more; factors in their favour (e.g. stuff to duck behind) make things easier. So, nice and simple, if a little swingy for some tastes.

It’s a GM call on whether a roll against Fort, Ref or Will Mental, Physical or Spirit is appropriate. Gee, did you see that silly Freudian slip there? How did that ever happen? Joking aside, the Advanced Mythus Avoidance mechanic is pretty much the D&D3E three save schema, as done first by Gary in 1992. So that’s yet another layer of irony to the claim that Gary was ripping off D&D.

Some guidance on what Avoidance roll to use when would have been nice, but the Mythus original sin (glossing over) leaves this mechanic open to all sorts of hilarious abuse by cunning players. Can you resist an unexpected rock fall or ambush with a Mental Avoidance roll? Rules don’t say no. Why not see if you can sell it to your GM?

"I disbelieve the incoming arrows and demands that we surrender or die."

You know, between the turboghouls, stop-motion combat solipsists, gangs of wandering murderchemists, and crushing economic inequality the implicit setting of Advanced Mythus is beginning to seem like a pretty cool place: more like The Muppets Take Athas than Epic of Aerth (*spit*).

Mental Combat


Giving people terminal ice cream headaches in Advanced Mythus is easy and fun:

Step 1: have access to mind-affecting powers, spells or skills
Step 2: establish contact by staring at them, bidding Heka vs. their mental defences
Step 3: expend more Heka the following round to take a blender to their precious cranial matter
Step 4: maniacal laughter

The full and official summary is as follows:

No maniacal laughter step? For shame!

Hmmm. The mechanics presented here -- link, then activate power -- smell more than a little like the AD&D2E psionics mechanic, which dates to the Complete Psionics Handbook © 1991. Given that I’ve no idea who, if anyone, was cribbing off whose notes let’s just chalk this similarity up to parallel idea development.

Several paragraphs of jargon-rich textual commentary restate in more words the delicious brevity of the summary, which should come as a surprise to absolutely no one by now (*gluk gluk*). The reader is warned that someone who has no relevant skills won’t even know that a mind-wizard is hobnailing about their consciousness, and certainly won’t be able to fight back. So that’s the Muggle vocations fuxxored them. We’re also cautioned that Cranial Lobe Fighting only works on entities that actually have minds: you cannot brainstab plants or inanimate objects. Spirits and demons, fine: domestic furnishings, no.

We’re also given a paragraph on expected outcomes of Mental Combat skill rolls. This is a chunk of very useful mechanical info’ which would have been better placed in a table, not lost in the textwalls. Basically, using any mental power requires a skill roll, which can have the following effects:
Pass = You're in thur brain, killing thur cells
Crit = Your thrusting invasive presence is HUEG and causes double damage
Fail = Their lobes are unresponsive to your sultry blandishments. No further mental attacks for 1 AT (5 minutes)
Fumble = You dun sprained your third eye and suffering 3d6 Mental damage. No Mental Attacks for the rest of the day.

There are four types of mental effect in Advanced Mythus: Drain, Paralyse, Derange and Control. Each has distinct effects and comes complete with a worked example. Helpful. (Good Mythus! Have a cookie.)

Drain -- symptoms include "...numbing fear, shock, panic and confusion." Cost to establish link = victim’s MRCap, with a successful attack causing 1 point of Mental damage per Heka expended. The victim becomes Dazed and has to make an Insanity check once they have taken their EL* in Mental damage, and a drooling vegetable once they’ve taken damage = Mental TRAIT. There are lots of useful page references to OMJ** terms and related materials here, which is nice.

* You remember this from back in chargen, right? It’s a damage threshold thingie.
** OMJ = Official Mythus Jargon: usually capitalised, often acronymic, and generally non-intuitive. Not to be confused with OMD.

Paralyse -- symptoms include being "...immobilised and unable to think clearly". Cost to establish link = victim’s MRPow + MRSpd, which seems costly until you recall that paralysis is generally a "save or lose" effect in most RPGs. If damage caused either raises Mental damage past their EL, or exceed their MRPow + MRSpd in one attack, the target is paralysed for BTs (30 seconds) = excess damage. It the attack meets both criteria the target is paralysed for both durations in sucession.

Seems pretty straightforward. But this is definitely not the plain old "save vs. paralysis" all Classic D&D players know and love. Why not? Well, mental paralysis effects in Advanced Mythus stack. An already paralysed victim can be stunlocked much more easily: they are paralysed for additional BTs = total (not excess) damage inflicted. They can also be mindwiped by spamming enough paralysis damage to exceed their Mental TRAIT. If the latter happens to an otherworldly/spirit entity it is banished from this plane. If it happened to an HP, well, prepare to spend the rest of the evening rolling a new dude.

Derange -- symptoms include "...short-term Insanity". An attack to Derange is a bit different from other Mental Attacks in that the cost to establish a link = target’s Mental TRAIT and the effect (induced insanity) takes effect immediately. Each point of Heka expended above the target’s Mental TRAIT drives them insane for 1 AT (5 minutes), /cumulative/. The worked example cites an attack expending 100 Heka vs. a target with a Mental TRAIT of 90 which leaves them exploring the outer reaches of unreason for 55 AT (10 + 9 + 8 + ...), or about 4+1/2 hours.

Control -- symptoms include "...victims move slowly, [...] as if they were a somnambulist". Cost to establish a link = target’s MR Category (or half this if they’re over their Mental EL). Exerting control is then either a skill roll, contested only if the target is Heka-active, otherwise just roll the dice:
Pass = w00t! New thrall who does your bidding slowly, as if Dazed
Crit = Your new mindbitch obeys with dexterity and alacrity (not Dazed, still your puppet)
Fail = Nope, wasted that Heka.
Fumble = They are thoroughly no'mpressed and are immune to your control attempts for 24 hours.

Being controlled causes 3 points of Mental damage per hour to the victim, but does render the controlled being immune to further Mental or Spirit attacks (which rule seems tailor-made for cunning player exploitation...). Duration is indefinite, but the invoker of a Control effect usually cannot cast any other effect while their maintain their control. Exception: unlike auras, psionic or innate ‘charming’ abilities Control spells are fire-and-forget.

The Mental combat mechanics are quite crunchy, and could easily be retrofitted by those Classic game GMs looking to give a little add variety to paralysis, insanity or charm/complusion effects.

Spiritual Combat


As with Mental Combat the deadly art of soul wrestling is quick and simple, and will ideally end up with bits of soul ground into the carpet:


Spiritual Combat is not usable on plants or animals. Has a Speed Factor of 5, whereas Mental Attacks have an effective Speed Factor of 0. So in Advanced Mythus punching someone in the soul is slower than abusing their mind. Go figure. On the other hand it does say that range is limited by perception, so the potential for sly lazy man's scry-and-die Spirit assault shenanigans (try saying that three times fast!) is wide open.

There are four Spiritual attack forms, of varying utility. These are: Weaken, Demoralise, Confound, and Subvert. Which incidentally would make a great title for a Burning Wheel-style social combat chapter.

Weaken -- symptoms include "...an overwhelming sense of apathy, hopelessness, failure, and depression." (aka ‘that Mythus Monday feeling’). Weaken is perhaps best typified as the voracious violation of volition power. It requires Heka = target’s SMCap to forge a link, and then costs one Heka per point of Spirit damage. When damage = Spirit EL the person becomes completely demotivated and apathetic. They won’t move or eat without coaxing, and won’t attack or defend themselves at all. Oh, and they have to make an Insanity check to avoid slipping into catatonia. Damage = Spirit TRAIT reduces the target to a will-less zombie permanently controlled (as the Control Mental attack) by their attacker. So that’s save-or-lose with a side order of character hijack. Nasty!

Demoralise -- covers both fear effects and what players of Classic D&D would call Turning effects. The mechanic applies equally to both the living and the undead (no exception-based "Immune to fear" antics here). If the Spirit damage caused by this attack exceeds the target’s SMPOw+SPPow they will leg it for AT = excess damage. Doesn’t affect anyone who has already taken their EL in Spirit damage: they’re too spiritwracked to care.

One thing which occurs to me is that nowhere in Advanced Mythus have I yet seen any reference to mundane options to intimidate/put the fear into opponents. UWP* strikes again.

* Unconscious Wizard Privilege. Perhaps best summed up as "What do you mean, non-casters should get nice things and the chance to play the whole game?" A longstanding unspoken assumption in RPGs.

Confound -- essentially ‘cause stupidity’. Costs Heka = Spirit TRAIT and results in the victim being Confounded* for 1 CT = excess Heka expended. The target is also unable to use any Spiritual or Mental Heka abilities for 1 AT per point of damage. They can use Physical Heka abilities, but seriously, how often is that going to be an option. This attack has no effect on someone who has taken more than their EL in Spirit damage.

* The definition of the Confounded effect is another instance of the annoying tendency towards circular cross-referencing in the Mythus index. There is no definition in the Attack to Confound description to explain what being confounded actually entails in game terms. Can a character make use of Mental skills while confounded? Refer to Confound in index. "See Attack." Look under Attack, where we find "Confound p214". Which is right back where we started. If that’s intended as an editorial in-joke (like the duplicate deja-vu psionic power descriptions in the 3E Psionics Handbook) it’s not one I find amusing.

Subvert -- symptoms include "...act[ing] as if of the opposite moral persuasion", which sounds like nothing so much as the infamous old helm of opposite alignment. Expending Heka above the target’s Spirit TRAIT turns them into a sneaky traitor intent on furthering the subverter’s nefarious agenda for 1 AT per excess Heka. A subvertee won’t directly attack their former friends, but will indirectly put them in harm’s way. What exactly this entails is left entirely to the discretion of the gaming group, which just seems like a recipe for squabbling and logic chopping.

Unlike the Mental attack to Control there’s no need for a Subverting attacker to puppet-master their new buddy; the convert operates normally and at no penalties. Subverted characters can resist once per AT according to the Spirit Combat Summary sidebar and can be counter-subverted by their allies if correctly diagnosed.

I’m not sure of the utility of Subversion as written. It seems to be another sneaky scry-and-die exploit, which, thanks to the inherent information asymmetry of RPGs, will greatly favour the GM.

The Spirit Attacks could definitely do with a little honing and planishing. Weaken is an outright killer, and Demoralise is a semi-decent save-or-suck mechanic. By contrast Confound and Subvert are the victims of poor editing and insufficient development. Both of the latter are so broad reaching that a sight more definition and clarification wouldn’t go amiss. As written neither is something you’d look at twice: there are easier ways to get what you want.

And then, to cap it all, the terminal paragraph of the Spiritual Combat section just exacerbates the situation:

So there are Spirit versions of the Mental attack forms too? That seems a little redundant. Are you going to tell us anything about them? No. Ok then.

In conclusion: Poor-to-middling, and not suited for my game anyway. Pass, though YMMV.

Heka-Based Attacks


A slight misnomer, given that both the preceding section were also technically about Heka-based attacks. This is actually the ‘cause Physical damage with Heka’ spell-chucking section of the combat rules. It’s a pretty substantive chunk of stuff; no less than 5 pages on putting the hurting on someone with magic. Lotsa tables, lotsa little details to be teased out and examined for value.

Attack Forms


Four types: Targeted, Area Effect, Summoned Spirits/Creatures, and Illusions.  At first glance this just looks like some serious ‘defining for the sake of it’ *gluk gluk* territory. However a little bit of digging turns up all sorts of unconsidered trifles.

Specific Target -- a catch-all category covering any spell with a one person area of effect: defensive spells, magic missiles, "...gravity-modifying Castings"(!), and so forth. This section has passing references to casters being able to absorb incoming Heka and cautions about the hazards of overload on same. All this implies some kind of magic duelling mechanic -- no page reference though, shame. There’s also an unelaborated hanging reference to something called Negative Heka, which appears to absorb a character’s inherent Heka.

Area Effect -- everything from fireballs to weather manipulation to anti-Heka effects. Can be absorbed or resisted to Heka Armour, but not negated by Magick Resistance (which is probably the Advanced Mythus equivalent of the powered-by-arbitrarium Magic Resistance ability possessed by some of AD&D’s more powerful monsters).

A Heka-based Area Effect Attack in action, yesterday

Summoned Spirits/Creatures -- "Minions. Kill that asshole over there!" That is all.

Illusions -- these are pretty nasty under the Advanced Mythus magickqykc system, causing damage and/or killing outright. Must either be dispelled or interrupted by Dazing/KOing the caster! An illusion can be disbelieved with a "Very Difficult" roll vs SP but only "...if the target knows it is an illusion". Information asymmetry makes the players the GM's bitches once more.

Attack Methods


Three types: Castings, Heka Powers, Magickal Devices. Castings go off the following round, Heka Powers straight away, Magickal Devices are ‘refer to user manual’. Just replace the OMJ terms with the D&D equivalents of 'spells', 'SLA', and 'magic item' and you have a pretty solid handle on what's what here.

It's kind of interesting to see how EGG restates the magical effects rules of D&D without actually using any of the jargon which /he himself established/. Makes me wonder if we’re going to see Not Brand X references to ‘Brain Flayer’ and ‘Regarder’ monsters in the Bestiary section.

The basics out of the way we get the Heka-Based Combat Summary. Sadly this is something of a dense mess compared to other Combat Summary tables. For example: section A2 under Activating the Casting. That’s at least three or four separate operations kludged together under one heading. A sad drop in standards from the otherwise clear and usable Combat summaries we’ve already seen. But don’t take my word for it, see for yourself:

Dense, isn’t it?

Attack Process


And, at last, 217 pages into the book, we have actual game mechanics for how to smack people in the face with magic(k).

Chance of Success
Hitting dudes dans la bouche with your accumulated magic princess pixie sparkle power is a function of your character’s Heka-active skills. The rules are more than a little reminiscent of Chainmail, with variable chance of successful casting based on relevant skill level and Casting Grade (trans. ‘spell level).



Most casters are limited to Castings = their level on our old friend That Damn Table. There is, of course, an exception for Special Snowflake Teachers Pets Full Practitioners, who once again get preferential treatment. You remember Full Practitioners, right? Smarmy silver spoon sucking b*st*rds who rolled well in chargen, and then got lucky on a die roll when they picked a Vocation. These living offences against character balance get the following additional perks:
  • a bonus DR shift when casting a spell in their pet school/ethos
  • the ability to try and cast spells above their pay grade
Of course, Mythus being Mythus it couldn’t possibly be as simple as ‘cross reference your skill with Casting Grade, modify skill, roll’, so we’re offered an additional table of Casting DR Modifiers.


So now it goes: cross-reference skill against Casting Grade, modify DR by circumstances, modify skill, roll’. Nice and simple and mathematically transparent, n'est-ce pas?

After all that palaver you’ll be glad to hear that if your spell does goes off it hits the designated target automagically. Spells don’t require a roll against BAC (Mythus for ‘hit roll’), nor do they roll for hit location.

Spell damage absorption is based on the average of the target’s armour. Thankfully the calculations involved in working that out are the target’s problem, not yours.

Special Success/Failure
Heka-based Attacks in Advanced Mythus can crit or fumble, which is a nice change from the fire-and-forget reliability of magic in D&D.

Crit = Maximum possible damage
Minimal Success (someone blocks the spell by spending Joss) = minimum possible damage
Fumble = roll on the Special Failure, Heka-Based Attack table, d% minus your skill:


Pretty prosaic. Seen better. Stormbringer and WFRP chuckle quietly to themselves.

Damage Types
Heka-based attacks usually deliver one or more types of energy or physical effect, some of which are more than slightly reminiscent of the D&D damage types finally formalised in 3E [link to SRD]. The nine commonest effects are:
  1. Piercing
  2. Cutting
  3. Blunt
  4. Fire
  5. Chemical
  6. Stunning
  7. Electrical
  8. Impact
  9. Continuing

Some damage types have special rules, which each get a paragraph or so of text on p219.

Stunning -- concussive force.  If Stunning damage exceeds the target’s PNCap Attribute they go spark out for BT = the excess damage. Only 20% of stun damage counts as actual Physical damage.  That’s a nice little overpressure/blast rule there.

Impact -- hits across a broad area ignoring physical armour, which grants you legitimate free rein to howl "Ze armour, it does nuthink!" in your best cod-Mitteleuropan accent. Falling damage and 10-ton rocks give the gift of Impact damage.

Explosive -- area effect damage. Does multiplied damage (termed Exposure) to targets. The primary target suffers x1d6 damage; anyone else in the blast area suffers x1d3 the listed damage. Enjoy your pain and screaming.

Continuing -- damage that just keeps on giving. Re-roll and apply damage again at the end of successive CTs until you rid yourself of whatever is causing the hurt. Acid, being on fire, bagpipes, etc.

Completists and nitpickers (probably the only type of people who have actually managed to get this far into the Lets Read Mythus experience) may also remember Electrical damage, which appears to be tragically overlooked on the table above. Leccy causes more damage the more metal armour you wear. A quick flick through the index reveals that the rules for electrical damage in Advanced Mythus are hived off in the Damage from Other Physical Injury section, which is much, much later in the combat chapter. Ditto the full rules for the sweet, blessed caress of lovely, lovely fire, which does at least get a passing nod above.

Applying Damage from Heka-based Attacks
There’s about a page on how you work out averaged armour values against Heka-based attacks. Yes, it’s a necessary element of the rules, but even for Advanced Mythus this is some dry, dull stuff. The sheer ‘RoleMaster for the accountancy crowd’ feel of this section is perhaps best represented by the example table of averaged armour:

Will to live ...fading.

I’m sure that’s very important and useful, but boy does it look too much like actual skull-sweat-involving work for my tastes.

And with final cheerful reminders that especially bad things happen when damage taken exceed a character’s Effect, Wound and/or Critical Level, or -- Heaven forefend! -- TRAIT score, we’re done with Heka-based attacks.

Could you exploit these rules for a Classic game? Well Doug Easterley did something with a Chainmail-derived magic system in his Savage Swords of Athanor a while back, and I understand that Goodman Games’ Dungeon Crawl Classics also goes down the path of duelling wizards doing something other than just firing rote spell at one another. So it’s definitely possible. But then again, Classic D&D is so simple and robust you can slap almost any magic system onto it, up to and including the ones from Ars Magica and/or Vampire: the Gothening.

Personal quibbles about Spiritual attack forms, poor layout, and sheer wordiness aside there are definitely some stealables in this section. So cheers. (*gluk gluk*)


Next Time: we get down and dirty with the deadly Mugglicious arts of punchjutsu and fechtschtabben, aka Physical Combat.


Pic Source: Dangerous Journeys: Mythus rulebook, HOL rulebook, Judge Dredd RPG (GW 1985), JollyJack's Spider & Scorpion, teh intarwubz

Thursday, 21 April 2011

Smell Like an Elf? Srsly?

RPG-themed perfumes? Really?

My thoughts on this:
  1. In b4 WOTC lean on creator demanding their cut.
  2. I thought we'd plumbed the collective depths with the D&D sodas.
  3. Needs moar Old Spice parody:

“Hello, ladies. Look at your elf, now back to me. Now back at your elf, now back to me.
[...]
Anything is possible when your elf smells like Stygian Black Lotus and not a soft-handed gurlyman. I’m on a unicorn.”

Dammit capitalism! You used to be cool.

Wednesday, 13 April 2011

AtoZ April - K is for Kibble

Day 11, and I would like it on record that Dave "Sham" Bowman is an evil, evil man whose choice of words hurtses my delicate brain.

"K is for kibble" commandeth the Sham, and lo was my confidence knocked, my crest fallen and my urb entirely purt-ed.
"Kibble" asked I "what is this kibble? Quick! To the dictionaries!"

Kibble is the act of coarsely grinding something such as grain.

Kibble may also refer to:
* Kibble, a component of dog food or cat food, as in Kibbles 'n Bits
* Chris Kibble (born 1963), British jazz musician
* Kibble Palace, a greenhouse in Glasgow
* Tom W. B. Kibble (born 1932), British physicist
* Bucket, as used by a water well
* Large bucket, as used to raise ore from a mine shaft
* Chalk and flint rubble, also known as kibble in East Devon, used to consolidate ground

So, as I know little enough about physics or Glaswegian greenhouses (where weegies isolate vegetables that their food supply might not be tainted by dangerous foreign innovations like vitamins), and nothing at all about jazz , that'll be one post on large buckets in the Vaults coming up.

Specifically industrial-sized buckets on aerial ropeways.

"We're perfectly safe. Just pull on that rope there..."

Delvers who survive their time in the Vaults report infrequently discovering large oak and iron buckets suspended from massive brunellian chains or thick-thick ropes. These curious arrangements are hoisted hither and yon for purposes opaque or forgotten by the massive engines of the Gearworks. Some buckets travel through tunnels, others hurtle across huge open voids in the high vaulted spaces above keyed areas.

Bucketway travel is wildly popular with goblin population of the Vaults. Some take this fascination to a strange extent, giving rise to a caste of so-called 'bucket spotters' dedicated to travelling on and recording all the bucketway routes they can find.

Whereas the Ferris Wheel of Doom is a way of travelling between levels (and worlds if someone presses the wrong button) rapidly and relatively safely, the bucketways of the Vaults are a way of getting from A to B while having the party exposed to all the local colour and nastiness in between. They're in one or more buckets being hoisted through the darkness of the mythic underworld. Any true GM will be rubbing their hands in evil glee at this...

Riding the Bucketway

Each bucket can carry up to 4 human-sized creatures and their carried gear, or up to 6 if they pack in like the occupants of a clown car. Strenuous activity (like dodging or fighting off attackers) makes the bucket sway and tilt wildly. Dex checks to hold on. Being thrown out of the bucket requires saves vs. paralysation to avoid falling out and either being left behind to be clocked by the next bucket to hurtle along (knocked flying, 1d10 damage, save vs breath weapon for half) or plummeting to a horrible squishy doom far, far below.

Appearance
"You happen upon a big bucket that looks like [d10]"

  1. ...the lower half of a large transparent hamster ball
  2. ...an oversized bowl/cauldron
  3. ...a big bucket/tub (1-5 oaken staves, 6 made of some strange brightly coloured flexible material like horn or shaped resin)
  4. ...an iron mine cart/skip
  5. ...a small boat (1in6 chance swan-headed and winged)
  6. ... a metal cage, elevator or cart-mounted (You can’t fall out; can’t jump out without re-opening the door. You did check the lock before you slammed it shut, right?)
  7. ... a gigantic open-topped humanoid skull (1in6 chance burning eye socket lamps)
  8. ... an inverted giant turtle shell
  9. ... a triangular hod (link to pic)
  10. ... an excavator scoop (open-fronted, likely designed to tilt)

Detail
The massive chains and tarred hawsers forming the bucketway are generally in good nick, but the buckets themselves show often signs of wear and tear. Roll for as many pieces of dressing as you fancy.

Grody - 3in6 chance substantial rust/dirt/waste indicating former or current function. Possibly dangerous; definitely unpleasant.
Ooh shiny! - 2in6 chance object trouve (roll on preferred random dungeon dressing object table)
Rusty POS - 1in6 chance that the floor, an exterior panel or (if the GM’s in a really playful mood) a supporting member is dangerously rotted or rusted.
Occupado! - 1in6 chance already occupied (by vermin, ooze, goblins, humanoid toads voiced by David Jason who declare the bucketway "...the only way to travel!", etc.)
Safety First! - 1in6 chance emergency stop lever (50% lever is purely decorative)
Unbalanced - 1in6 chance rotates slowly during travel. Especially likely to tilt if weight isn’t distributed evenly.

Where does it go?
Unless guided by a native who already knows the route a randomly encountered bucketway could end up almost anywhere in the Vaults. The direction of the main chain will generally provide some clue, although these can change direction with little warning.

1-3 Lateral stays on the same level - 2d6 rooms in d8 direction (1 = N, 2 = NE, etc.)
4-5 Vertical travels +/- 1d3 dungeon levels
6 Inclined combines Lateral and Vertical, possibly an access route to an otherwise isolated sub-level

Pleasingly Touristic - additional 2in6 chance that the bucketway connects to/crosses one of the major named features of the level.

Tunnel Details
Width of transit tunnel: bucket width + 1d10 feet. If more than 5’ clearance there may be an additional walkway running parallel to the bucketway route.
1in10 chance of some obstruction poking up from the floor (check only once per journey). Not immediately lethal, but likely to keep life interesting.

How do we get off this thing?

1-2 Controlled start/stop jerky and uncomfortable, but you stop.
3-4 Continual loop no stopping, possible slowing or change of direction (like a ski lift). Jump!
5-6 Automatic dump upon reaching a particular point in its journey the bucket tilts in its frame and dumps its contents. Hopefully not into a furnace, grinder or sump.

So please hold tight and keep all extremities, children, halflings and squishy wizards inside the car at all times.

Pic Source
Ropeway pic from Low-tech Magazine

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

The Universal Combiner

A simple enough trick I'm going to add into an as yet unexplored section of the Gearworks (level 3 of the Vaults).

Like this, only minus wheels, plus hoodoo

This immense, room-sized mechanism has two input hoppers at one end (each large enough to take something 2' x2' in size), a bunch of Willy Wonka odd-tech pistons, gauges, levers and gears on its body, and a large output hopper at the other.  Simply put any two things in the input hopper, pull the lever and stand well back. The selected objects will be slowly, inexorably drawn into the machine, exiting the output hopper irrevocably fused into one. Whether the new object is usable, and to what end, is entirely dependent upon the whim of the GM and the ingenuity of the players.

The racket of the machine's operation requires a wandering monster check.

Putting a living thing through the machine? I'd say a save vs. death (or perhaps "vs polymorph" is more fitting?) to come out relatively unharmed. Well, apart from their bizarre new appendage and a lasting grudge against the person who pushed them in*... Failed save: they're a mangled wreck of meat and organs.

* What? You thought the sullen-faced winged baby-head gargoyles were just a decorative feature?

Simple enough then. That is until your players get cocky and start dumping things like corpses, henchmen, magic items, the odd magical substances of a fantasy world (solid shadows, reified memory/sorrow/true love, etc.), and/or clever-clogs dichotomous oddnesses (a living being in one hopper; an undead in the other) into the machine. The cleverness and inquiring natures of such players should be rewarded in the customary manner (I believe "worlds of hurt" is the operative phrase).

Of course, if there's a universal combining machine, it stands to (un)reason that somewhere in the Vaults there's also a universal divider/renderer/refiner of some kind...

(I'm certain I've nicked this from someone, but for the life of me I don't know who. Any help with attribution appreciated.)


Pic Source
Victorian thresher from fotolibra.com

Sunday, 23 May 2010

Cinnabar: Mapping the Infinite City

"Cinnabar? It's no Utopia. There are more options here than you've had before. That's all. There's diversity on an asymptotic curve that never quite touches total breakdown."

Curse you, Tom Fitzgerald! Your mention of extropian science fantasy in the comments to my last post got me thinking about what use one of my favourite New Wave sci-fi novels might be in my game. How could you possibly know that was my Achilles Heel?!

M. John Harrison's Viriconium, China Mieville's Bas-Lag and Jeff Vandermeer's City of Saints and Madmen (one word review: over-rated) seem to get all the love in the esoteric urban fantasy stakes, but Edward Bryant's Cinnabar stories beat them to it by years, and did it with style too. Fine by me, it keeps Cinnabar more of a well-kept secret that I can mine for my own dirty purposes without others calling me on my packrat-ism.

What good then is The City at the Centre of Time for an old school D&D game? Well, in accordance with my recently evolved idea that "the right answer is always the wilder and more audacious of those on offer" (didn't Feynman say something similar?), I think the answer is: plenty.

Cinnabar is a city built around a time vortex and governed by an AI going slowly mad from the strain of synchronising itself across helical time. The burg is described as:
"...a flux of glass towers and metal walls perched atop red cliff crumbling down to a narrow strand of beach..."
and is a post-scarcity dream of genteel urbanism filled with Clarkean sufficiently advanced science (bioengineering, time travel and outright weird sh*t), helical time distortions, and an array of characters bored to the edge of madness by the ennui of their immortal lives.

"And this" said Timnath Obregon "is the device I have invented to edit time."
The quartet of faded and blurred ladies from the Craterside Park Circle of Aesthetes made appreciative noises; the sound of a dry wind riffling the plates of a long-out-of-print art folio.

A few of the more memorable/exploitable elements of the setting:
  • Parlours filled with generations of embalmed ancestors.
  • Giant ravens and revived prehistoric sharks acting as spies and proxies for warring omnidisciplinary scientists (*cough* wizards).
  • Memory scrubbing and personality overwriting.
  • Factional strife between bio-modified heterogynes and Luddite natural birth fanatics (the Neo-Creelists)
  • Intra-city teleportals (known as the Klein Expressway)
  • Living animal statues embedded in concrete to stop them from wandering off.
  • The Network, a combination public infrastructure/entertainment system, which hosts shows by sex star Tourmaline Hayes and action star Jack Burton (famous for doing all his own stunts).
  • Cougar Lou Landis - a deconstruction of the heroic archetype in a city that only looks to heroes to provide some variety in an interminable existence.
  • Catmothers - Nanny/bodyguards for the children of the elites. Genetically modified cats with their maternal instincts refocused on human children.
There's no way I'm not going to rip all this off with the greatest of glee!

Perhaps the oddest thing about the city is that it is described as becoming wilder and ever more expansive the further in toward the centre one travels. Birds are described as travelling in widening gyres to avoid the confusion brought on by time distortions, and characters talk about time compression as one approaches the singularity at the heart of Cinnabar:

"Its the same phenomenon that would make Anita and the others in Craterside Park think we'd have been gone only a short while, regardless of whether we've spent several subjective years at City Centre."

This is the exact opposite of the time dilation which supposedly occurs in a singularity in the real world and, combined with all the other elements involved, makes Cinnabar something of a challenge to map.

Whether you want to use the Cinnabar singularity as written, or make a journey to the centre of the city a one way trip into a timelike infinity (as in the Stephen Baxter short story Pilot, reprinted in the Vacuum Diagrams collection) is up to you. I'm torn between the Narnia/Oz conceit of no time having passed at home, or having ancient and long-forgotten things from the distant past erupt from the inner regions of the city at irregular intervals.

Perhaps the simplest way of doing so would be to treat the wild reaches at the centre of Cinnabar as an inverted wilderness map, with the city as centre point for expansive exploration of its TARDIS-like forgotten areas. Given how big a factor the warped nature of space and time in the city is, this isn't as absurd an idea as it might first sound.

Picture your classic hex map (the one here is from turn-based card PC game Armageddon Empires, chosen purely for prettiness):



The centre hex, rather than representing the city itself, represents the entire world beyond Cinnabar. The wider world receives short shrift in the original book, being described as comprising no more than "The desert. The greenbelt. The city. The sea", and a disused elevated railway to a long-unvisited city known only as Els (I'm sure the striking resemblance between this far-future SoCal and the self-absorbed worldview of La-la-land is no coincidence...). As the city acts as the gateway between the two wildernesses ("beyond Cinnabar" and "within Cinnabar") it really makes no odds.

The robot-groomed greenbelt surrounding the city would be the ring of hexes surrounding this solitary central hex. The greenbelt might need to be modified slightly for the chaotic and hostile conditions of a D&D world; perhaps into the kind of active defence/free fire area the Neo-Victorian enclave of New Chusan had in Neal Stephenson's Diamond Age. After all, one can't have riff-raff turning up uninvited...

Surrounding the greenbelt hexes on the map, but within them in terms of topography on the ground, would be the commonly visited, inhabited areas of Cinnabar itself in all their ferment and glory:

"The Tancarae Institute, Craterside Park, the Neontolorium, Serene Village - where the irredeemably elderly live, the Klein Expressway, the Balloonworks-"

Take your favourite fantasy city sourcebook (or better still, a sci-fi one) and crank the whimsy, spectacle and self-indulgence knobs up until they break off. Cinnabar should be thrilling, OTT and always full of the next big thing. The inhabitants crave novelty to the point of mania. Don't forget the dark undercurrent of ennui, despair and casual cruelty though. Citizens may be inviolate under city law, but you do know how they discipline Catmothers, right?

Spoiler: Implanted memories of the litters of kittens these hybrids could never have. At any time their masters can have their mind replay the memories as if the death of their litter was happening all over again.

Beyond the ring (outlying in terms of topography, innermost in terms of cartography) comprising the currently active areas of the city would lie the largely unfrequented centre; interior suburbs inhabited by people tired of the bustle of Cinnabar proper or opposed to the omnipresent panopticon of the Network, or left deserted on human life by the changing tides of ideology and fashion:
"The capacity of Cinnabar is so much greater than its actual population. I assume the inhabitants of Cairngorm grew weary of this austerity millennia ago and simply moved on."
Things would gradually becoming more desolate, outlandish and seemingly impossible as one travelled further in. The Klein Expressway connections would become ever patchier, and things out of their rightful place and time would become more commonplace.
"It appears to be a Tyrannosaurus Rex. They're presumed extinct."
[...]
"Obregon peered over the lip of the chasm; he could not see the bottom. He looked to the sides and saw that the abyss had no apparent limit in either direction. Directly ahead, the other side of the chasm was about ten metres distant. "This is impossible" he said "There's go geologic feature like this in Cinnabar."

This is where all the post-apoc ape world, transhumanist dystopia and alternate evolutionary history fanfic stuff you feel ashamed to include in an otherwise fine and upstanding D&D game can hang out. Me? I just consider it another vista to be tainted with my own grimdark gonzo vision. ;)

Ultimately, after as much travel, adventure and confusion in the laws of nature as the DM finds entertaining, travellers would (Terminus* willing) reach the singularity which powers Cinnabar and creates the space-time distortions characteristic of the city. This would be the functional and philosophical area beyond the edge of the map; but not, however, the end of the line:
"What you see is the innermost point of the time vortex over Cinnabar. Yet this is not in itself the destination of the time flow; the anomaly is both hole and tunnel, exiting somewhere and somewhen else."

* A ruling singularity AI called Terminus: did the people who designed the city never hear about the power of names? Did they really expect that to end well? Bloody urban planners and their (apparent) failure to understand the importance of mythic resonance...

So, Cinnabar. That (or a decadent, introverted city state so similar as to be its' near-identical twin) is definitely being included as part of the wider Wilds when (if) I ever get around to mapping them. See it while access is cheap, and while it's still there.

"It's a tall mountain."
"Well that can't be helped" said the double helix "Dream quests are known for their arduousness"

edit: feel the power of the grogblog hivemind! Posted at about the same time as my half-formed brainwurble:

Saturday, 22 May 2010

Memestorms and Ideocults

The folk of the Wilds of Nagoh seem almost uniquely prone to outbursts of religious or socio-cultural hysteria, and to infection with a wide variety of passing fads, quixotic ideals, and other such hobby horses. For every pseudo-medieval castle town or classical city state on the map there will be a dozen or more nomadic tribes, eremitic communities, utopian communes and personality cults, each with its own strange ideology.

Part of this tendency towards apparently insane behaviour can be ascribed to living in a post-apocalyptic world where magic, monsters and interfering godlings are facts of life. In a world gone mad, sometimes madness is the right survival trait. But there are also other, oft-overlooked, founts of strangeness in the Wilds.

Memestorms

Mind-affecting haunts, infectious curses tailored by long-dead geniuses of the biothaumic arts, or a form of free-floating psychic mass hysteria (as ever, the scholars are divided on the exact nature of the phenomenon), memestorms can lie dormant in unknowing host populations for generations before taking effect. Although these infections sometimes cause physical symptoms similar to more mundane diseases, and many also result in gross morphological changes, the primary and characteristic effect is infection with outlandish - but sometimes beneficial - neurochemically-enforced behaviour patterns.

Most memestorms are highly infectious to humans and kindred races, requiring those exposed to carriers of the sickness to make a save vs. poison/death or suffer the effects themselves. Their removal requires the casting of both remove curse (to undo the neurological changes wrought on the sufferer) and cure disease (to kill the infection). Either/or casting will result only in healthy carriers of still active and infectious memestorm strains, or non-infectious sufferers.

16 Sample Memestorms

1. Giving Plague - The sufferer feels driven to divest themself of all worldly goods.

2. Excelsior Fever - Typified by soulful staring at the skies in its initial stages, and later by an unshakable desire to ascend ever higher. Infections generally end tragically in steeple-jacking and mountaineering accidents, or when ramshackle towers and flying machines fail catastrophically.

3. Jabbering Ague - Sufferers become prone to fits during which they they suffer from outbursts of speech in ancient languages. When translated some of these are useless, others are snippets of information about the ancient past, or post-hypnotically encoded secrets, or spell formulae.

4. Builder Frenzy - Infectees labout under an unwavering compulsion to assemble objects into abstract symbolic or representational patterns. Anything that comes to hand will be pressed into service (potato mountain in Close Encounter)

5. Demolishing Mania (aka Iconoclasmiasm) - The antithesis of Builder Frenzy. Sufferers are overcome with the compulsion to tear it all down and flee the wreckage of their former homes in search of who knows what. Highly infectious, entire villages and towns have been known to succumb in a single night of wild-eyed mania.

6. Migratory Compulsion - "Go into the water. Go into the water."

7. Immuring Frenzy - "We have to get under the earth. It's not safe on the surface!" The subject begins compulsively digging, either with their bare hands, or with whatever tool comes to hand. A nuisance to the neighbours if they live on the upper storey, and a disruption to trade if they start in on the market place. Potentially deadly if they succumb while on soft earth.

8. Wainbrurm - The sufferer becomes fixated on low-toned, repetitive rumbling sounds. They will spend all their time obsessively following farm carts, or do themselves lasting serious injury by placing their heads against the wrong parts of mill wheels or trip hammers.

9. Sanguinary Quietism - Sufferers won't initiate violence, and become distressed and sickened by the sight of blood. The infestion is bloodborne, and easily transmitted by the spray of fluids caused by violence. Catastrophic for predators if it enters their food source animals.

10. Slayid - The sufferer becomes fixated on aural stimulation, constantly drummming and hammering. Those sufferers most far gone yowl and screech at unpredictable intervals. Some lucky few are able to lead semi-normal lives, but the worst cases are horrible indeed.

11. Acquired Corporeal Revulsion Syndrome - Some part of the sufferer's body becomes abhorrent to them. They become convinced that they can only survive if it is surgically removed. Quite how heartless or liverless sufferers manage to survive the voluntary renunciation of their vital organs is unknown, but, through some quirk of fate, magical or biological in nature, survive some do.

12. Red Star Fever - Sufferers forcibly share all goods with those around them, giving and taking as they require with no regard for social or legal norms. A viral form of "to each according to his need". Many Goblins suffer this.

13. Communicable Ahistoric Bias - A viral psychosis triggered by the smell of decomposition attendent upon death. Sufferers entirely forget about the deceased, regarding them as fictions rather than real people and their mortal remains as loathsome trash.

14. Asocial Demophobia - A visceral loathing of crowds, and of the urban areas they inhabit. The longer the infection persists, the smaller a group needed to trigger the violent withdrawl from society. Sufferers tend to flee their homes, ending up either as misanthropic trap-setting hermits, or as dinner for the crows.

15. Nam Shub - The sufferer lacks self-will. They will obey the instructions of the last person to speak to them to the best of their ability to understand. In advanced cases even the most self-destructive commands will be mindlessly obeyed.

16. Cleromantic Compulsive Syndrome - The sufferer entirely abdicates personal decision-making responsibility, instead obeying the divinatory properties of dice, coin tosses, or other totemic objects. Sufferers of similar strains will be uncannily in accord over what their divinatory devices tell them. Those infected with different strains will argue viciously and interminably over the correct interpretation of same.

-----

IdeoCults of the Wilds

So what becomes of the disease-ridden lunatics affected by the memestorms? Although many die or are incarnerated for the protection of themselves, their kin and neighbours, others escape into the Wilds, scraping a living among others of their own strange, outcast kind

Gun Eunuchs of Draozz - A large, evangelical group suffering from a particular strains of Acquired Corporeal Repulsion Syndrome (or, as they argue, 'liberated from carnal hunger thereby') the infamous Gun Eunuchs have found meaning as self-emasculated worshippers of a giant gun-spewing stone head. Their raiding and slaving parties are led by Taks Eksile, a sword-wielding, moustachioed warlord whose accent never matches his stated origins.

The Henon - Singlehandedly give the lie to "the wisdom of crowds" and living embodiments of the proverbial madness of same, the Henon are a floating carnival of social levelling and mob rule. A rigidly anarchistic group of transvestite mummers, the Henon chant obscure slogans, commit nonsensical and sometimes dangerous pranks, and assault any percieved authority figure who crosses their path.

The Slayidheads - hammer-wielding louts in bizarre costumes, led by a loud-voiced captain possessed of unnatural charisma. Slayidheads are hopelessly fixated on the repetitious pounding noises of their hammers, often to the detriment of their health. They are sometimes pressed into service as cheap labour when roadbeds or building foundations require flattening.

Circoncellionites - A quasi-religious body, all of whose members are deliberately infected with Sanguinary Quietism during indoctrination. Dedicated to spreading their creed of universal pacifism through the swords of others...

Monday, 3 May 2010

Ele*meh*ntals, Amirite?


"Agreed, f**k Heart. Let's just kill all the puny fleshies."

Elemental as written in classic D&D (B/X and A-) are, sad to say, a bit *meh*. They are mechanically pretty dull; their descriptions and artwork have none of the allegorical/mythic resonance of their inspirational material; nor do they convey a sense of the power and fury of nature at its most violent. Even their minis are a bit pedestrian and phoned in. How to make them a little less yawnsome?

Well, there are several options:
  1. first and easiest: change the fluff,
  2. allow for composite elementals, and
  3. change their mechanics a bit (the obvious thing is a random table of some kind).

Changing the Fluff

The default assumption (reinforced by decades of path-of-least-resistance models) is that elementals just look like big humanoid lumps of... stuff. Which is depressingly limited, especially given how many other element-themed monsters share a similar conceptual space.

Fortunately refluffing is quick and easy in classic D&D, where 'canon' is generally synonymous with "whatever the DM decided last week". Lo! Instead of being simply big rocky dudes who are almost indistinguishable from badly eroded stone golems, the latest earth elemental to burst forth instead looks like a (d6):
  1. giant Easter Island stone head that grinds about the place looking down its long nose at people.
  2. stone rhino (“...the sinews of his stones are wrapped together. His bones are as strong pieces of brass; his bones are like bars of iron.” - Job 40:17-18)
  3. single massive limb that erupts from the earth and blindly strikes as the summoner directs.
  4. gloomy stone dude who just sits there in the lotus position and hums sonorously.
  5. menhir, elaborately engraved and orbited by jewels.
  6. stone toad squatting in a geode.
You can do this easily enough for all the classic quartet. So I will:

Fire elementals next:

 "Erm, no."

Instead of being yet a-bloody-nother ambulatory bonfire with beady eyes and mediocre artwork, they're (d6):
  1. greasy little axolotls (complete with external gills and that characteristic sh*t-eating grin) that make everything around them burst into flame.
  2. odd multi-armed Hindu-looking divinities juggling flames and dancing about in coronas of fire.
  3. red-and-yellow peacocks/birds of paradise.
  4. burning dwarves, who simply don't understand why you don't want to shake hands (Azer, Dorf Fortress, blah).
  5. iron and brass braziers; self-mobile and happy to throw all you lucky, lucky people the unsolicited gift of a burning coal or two.
  6. amorphous flying clouds of burning embers. No glowing eyes or perceptible face, and especially no big sad eyes or Billy Crystal-sounding voice. Just a cloud of mucky burning stuff.
Undines. Either you can have something that makes Hosukai wonder why he ever bothered in the first place, or you can describe them as (d6):
  1. Fanservicey Renaissance bints in damp gauze surfing around on sea-shells
  2. The dorsal ridge and flukes of some massive shark, whale or similar half-seen leviathan of the deeps
  3. Abyss-style living water that mimics the face of anyone who looks at it
  4. Shoal of fish that form a composite face (Nemo/Matrix fashion).
  5. Elaborate abstract formation of ice crystals, falling water and mist.
  6. ZOMG sea serpents! (and suchlike Freudian imagery)
Slyphs are already in the Monster Manual as the airborne wing of the hypnotic/blinding magical hot chick army (dryads, nymphs, sirenes, etc). And the various minor air elementals (aerial servants, invisible stalkers and wind walkers) have already stolen their invisible, malignant air current shtick. So we'll have to do something other than have them being whirlwinds with eye spots (d6):
  1. Boreal face-in-a-cloud huffing away (complete with puffed cheeks. The puffed cheeks are an essential thematic element)
  2. Thunderbird/storm crow/bluebird of tempests.
  3. Whirling vortex of blue and white sparkles.
  4. Swirly oriental dragony thing looping around mid-air to the accompaniment of discordant cymbals. 
  5. Rapidly spinning triskel which periodically whirrs, sparks and throws off clumps of shredded feathers.
  6. Skinny windblown dude in flowing robes.
Stats for all the above are as normal, just with an FX modification. Hopefully enough to add a little bit of "woah!" back to the primal spirits of the world.

As for elemental politics. Well, the Princes of Elemental Evil (FF) are simply cooler than almost any other quartet of elemental gods you care to name, either in pulp fantasy or gaming fluff. The idea that the earth/air itself is plotting against you is just... right (and we all know that the sea and fire are just biding their time). None of that Princes of Elemental Good nonsense though. The natural world is uncaring and merciless at best.

Composite Elementals

By this I don't mean the wackiness of the various Para- and Quasi-Elemental types (that way lies the madness of reified every-bloody-thing elementals. "Time Elemental, I'm looking at you!"). And no, Ice, Wood, Void, Magnesium and the like aren't /proper/ elements. Those are just...stuff. You'd be laughed out of the Academy for even suggesting they’re fundamental elements of creation.

Nor do I mean mimicking the noxious failure of creative ability that was the 4E elementals. How dead to the cultural heritage of the gaming world do you have to be to think that "Rockfire Dreadnought", "Earthwind Ravager" and "Thunderfire Cyclone" are worthy replacements for the rich trains of association and resonance trailed by names like Slyph, Salamander and Undine? (Not Gnome though, that name has been ruined by association with David and his fuzzy-faced, badger-fondling, bad joke ilk)

Despite what the Product Identity-mentals of 4E, and the various Para-, Quasi-, Pseudo- and Spurio-Elementals of late period TSR D&D did to the idea, combining elements is not necessarily a bad thing. Just allow two of the non-inimical classical quartet to borrow aspects of one another’s flavour and you've suddenly got whole new looks for the previously boring "I'm a self-mobile cloud/puddle/furnace/rockery" quartet.

Earth + fire = magma elementals, and who doesn't like lava?
Air + water = storm elementals.
Air + fire = burning, choking ash cloud elementals.
Earth + water = erm... mud? How about water-eroded rock? Silt? Clay? (jeez, there's always one joker has to ruin it for everyone!)

Again, no mechanical fiddling required.

Changing the Mechanics

A lot of what Classic D&D elementals do is fine. Their collective immunity to non-magical weapons makes sense. Beating on the landscape, or on a jet of fire erupting from a furnace, isn't going to do anything except give you some nasty burns and ruin the temper of your sword. Similarly there are proverbs in many cultural traditions about the futility of fighting the sea or the wind. So, yep. Immunity to mundane stuff is good.

Likewise the "maintain control, or it'll turn on you" thing that's a commonality of elemental summoning in both Basic and Advanced D&D is fun, flavourful and in keeping with pulp precedent. The rule allows the wizard player to don a big battlesuit every once in a while, but also ensures that his mates have to keep an eye on his happily drooling self while he goes kaiju on Team Monster.

The different HD from different summoning sources (stave = 8HD, wand/magic item = 12HD, spell = 16HD) probably has logical Chainmail/OD&D precedent; but from AD&D and B/X onwards it's merely another unexplained mystery of the Gygaxian universe. As for the 80 Hit Die walking disasters of BECMI...

The ‘unique abilities’ of the elementals though, those suck a fat one. The power and majesty of elementals is really undercut when it’s possible to adopt a SOP against their terrifying innate powers.

"He's summoning a [air/earth/fire/water] elemental."
"We're fine so long as we [avoid the whirlwind/cast levitate/cast resist fire/don't get in any boats] then. Oh, and by the way, dispel evil."

Surely creatures of 16 HD (that's more than any non-unique dragon, giant, or demon/devil in classic D&D) should have something a little more impressive than one bog-standard ability available to their entire type? Baz Blatt's non-canonical Tekumel demons (presented for our delectation in Fight On! #3) were pretty hardcore, and they only had 1 HD apiece.

The genies (Djinn, Efreet, etc) and minor elemental beings steal the peculiar quirks that rightfully belongs to the true elementals. So here are a few quick-and-lazy ideas to redress the balance:

Standard Elemental type ability
They get this for free, it's the calling card of their type.

AirFlight
EarthMeld with Earth
FireMake stuff to go *whumpf*
WaterMake water do tricks (run uphill, form arches, dancing fountains antics, etc.)

Then, dump the standard ability of the elemental (this is likely a bit of extra damage in B/X-LL, and the customary Whirl[wind/pool], or some extra damage in AD&D) and instead roll d10 on the table below:

Air
1. Steal Breath - save or die from hilarious blue-faced asphyxiation
2. Whirlwind – as the standard ability
3. Blade Barrier – as cleric spell
4. Cloudkill – as wizard spell
5. Lightning Bolts / Call Lightning – as the spells
6. Thunderous Bellow – as the breath weapon of a Dragonne or Androsphinx
7. Invisibility – innate ability, cannot be dispelled
8. Rapid Transit (as wind walk or the special ability of the Aerial Servant)
9. Buffet (like a giant air cannon) - duplicates one or more of the famous 'hand' spell series
10. Windwall as protection from normal missiles

Earth
1. Immobility (self or other) - as hold person spell
2. Fossilising Blow - save vs petrifaction or be a decorative feature
3. Immurement (as imprisonment spell)
4. Gravity Control (slow, reverse gravity, etc)
5. Magnetism - as attraction/repulsion spell
6. Rusting Aura - as rust monster
7. Warp Terrain
8. Earthquake - as spell
9. Rock to Mud - as spell
10. Wall of Stone - as spell

Fire
1. Pyrotechnics - self-destruct as a Type 6 demon
2. Wall of Fire / Fireball - as the spells
3. Hypnotic Movement - as fascinate or fire charm
4. Immaterial Form - physical damage? Immune suckers!
5. Prophetic Ability - as foresight, or DM fiat.
6. Destroy Weapon - directed disintegrate, but with fire FX.
7. Fire Shield - as the spell
8. Heat Metal - as the spell
9. Cause Spontaneous Combustion - save or die
10. Move like Wildfire - as blink
11. Firestorm - attraction effect + AoE fire damage

Water
1. Drown - save or die, or water spews from every orifice
2. Erode / Rot - warp wood, disintegrate, etc.
3. Waters of Lethe - memory loss
4. Airy Water - as the spell
5. Dessication - save or petrify, or you're Lot's wife now
6. Freezing Touch (water is a great coolant)
7. Wall of Ice - as spell
8. Maelstrom - as the standard whirlpool ability
9. Part Water - as spell
10. Annoying immunity - the water elemental just sits there, takes it, and goes *bloop* (like the Shao-Lin conditioning exercise where you have to slap water for an hour, to show the essential futility of worldly action)

Your elemental can use this ability once per round in the place of his normal attack.

Hopefully this'll make elementals a little less a bunch of palette swap monsters.

Thoughts? Opinions? Demands that I stop playing with the fundamental building blocks of the physical realm.
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