Dungeon Module D2: Shrine of the Kuo-Toa

It's easy to find examples of "bad" Dungeons and Dragons artwork.  One has only to look at the D-series of modules to find it.  Of course, when I say bad, with quotations, I don't really mean bad.  Primitive, yes.  Amateurish?  Fine.  But it is also entirely appropriate, in keeping with the requirements for Dungeons and Dragons art, as separate from Fantasy Art.

Incidentally, some people, big fans of Elmore, Easley and Parkinson, uncritically consider fantasy art (particularly by those three artists) and DnD art to be the same thing.  I will return to why they are not in a separate post.

Having reached the end of module D1, Descent into the Depths of the Earth, and avoided or defeated the troglodytes, bugbears, trolls, dark elves, and assorted other adversaries that dwell in a large subterranean cavern, the party pushes on towards the fabled city of the Drow.  The party continues to encounter Drow patrols and merchant caravans, along with quintessential DnD monsters like the Rust Monster pictured above.

Several other new (for 1977) monsters appeared in Shrine of the Kuo-Toa.  The above Umber Hulk makes his first appearance here in this DnD module.

Above we discover a trio of Ropers, one being put to the torch while another Roper pulls a hapless party-member to his doom.  It's interesting to view these illustrations, and in so doing compare them to the artwork that will come in the mid-80's and beyond.  It's typical of these early illustrations that the party's survival is often in doubt.

Other than some standard subterranean corridors, we are provided with very few encounter areas in D2.  One such encounter area is a river crossing, populated by a single insane Kuo-Toa ferryman.  It is possible that this will be the first of several encounters with this Lovecraftian adversary, prior to reaching the Shrine.

It should be obvious that the above artwork is by Trampier, even without his signature appearing upside down at the top of the illustration.  It features Tramp's not-atypical conceit of framing the illustration from the persective of the monster, rather than that of the adventuring party.  It catches the action at the precise moment of decision and danger, for the madness of the insane Kuo-Toa will be revealed in the manner in which the party reacts to his hail.

Another secondary encounter area features deep gnome miners, foes of the Kuo-Toa, whose reaction and sympathetic gestures towards the party may affect the success of their visit to the Shrine.  The deep gnomes have been scouting the Shrine of the Kuo-Toa, and have had several military encounters with these fish-men.  The deep gnomes are potentially powerful allies, if the party reacts to them in a fashion appropriate to their motivations.

Finally, we reach the Shrine of the Kuo-Toa.  Like the central subterranean cavern adventure location in D1, there is no requirement that the Shrine be cleared of foes.  In fact, you could, potentially, bypass this encounter location without participating in a single combat.  That is because there is significant underworld traffic through this area, including the traffic of drow patrols and merchant caravans.  Although the Drow and the Kuo-Toa hate each other, they have come to an uneasy accommodation, with rare breaches of that truce.  Other underworld denizens travel to and past the Shrine, so it is not unusual to find over-worlders in the vicinity.

However, there are clues to be gathered at the Shrine, regarding the intentions of the dark elves, and opportunities for other intelligence-gathering and preparation for what lies beyond, not to mention ample treasure and combat for those who wish to partake in those activities.  A smart party will take advantage of their friendship with the deep gnomes, or use subterfuge and cleverness to gain information and treasure here.

Combat Fatigue and the Failure of Gygax

Travolta:  That's how Ali took the title from Foreman.  He beat him with a rope-a-dope.  Don't you remember?
Slater:  I don't remember what day of the week it is.
Travolta:  Everybody thought Ali's arms had run out.  That he's running on empty.  But he's just setting Foreman up.  He's letting Foreman burn himself out.  And then, in the eighth round, here comes Ali; and poor George has nothing left.

-- Broken Arrow, 1996

Dungeons and Dragons does a lousy job of emulating combat fatigue.  And i'm not just talking about fourth edition.  We're talking every single edition. 

It would be tempting to blame Dave Arneson for the failure of DnD to emulate the effects of combat fatigue.  After all, he is the author of the hit point concept.

Arneson's hit point concept eventually became DnD's aggregated measure of luck, skill, stamina, concentration, life-blood and endurance.  In fact, after all these years, it is still argued that only the last few character or monster hit points actually represent the life-blood of the combatant.  For the most part, inflicting hit point damage represents the whittling away of your opponent's stamina, the sapping of his will and skill, and the gradual theft of his luck.  In a word: fatigue.

But nowhere in DnD's combat system do the effects of fatigue reveal themselves.  A character's combat abilities do not wane as his hit points decrease.  A figher's speed and combat prowess are undiminished, despite having suffered a 50%, 75%, or even 90% hit point reduction.  And in a perverse twist, 4E actually provides combat bonuses when some players and monsters become "bloodied".  If you can imagine, as one becomes "bloodied" (fatigued), combat ability actually improves.

While it is true that Arneson first implemented the concept of hit points in his pre-DnD games, it took Gary Gygax to unthinkingly promulgate their hybrid use, as a combined luck, skill, stamina and endurance measure, when publishing the earliest versions of DnD.  And to this day, hit points in all versons of DnD, including 4E, continue to function just as they did in 1974, as a rather ghoulish goulash of combat capability measures.

Gygax should have known better.  As an avid reader of pulp fantasy literature, he had myriad sources available to confirm that pulp fantasy role-playing games absolutely require some sort of combat fatigue emulator. 

Even something as simple as the loss of a single hit point during each combat round due to exertion would have provided some reminder to the players that fatigue is a serious matter in battle.

My clucking and finger-wagging at Gygax applies equally to those DnD game designers who came after.

You need look no further to see that continued failure, than to study one of the so-called "marvellous innovations" of 4E, the AEDU system.  The 4E AEDU system gives each character at-will, encounter, daily, and utility powers, and is a rather uninspired effort at combat fatigue emulation. 

It posits that there are certain daily and encounter powers that are so exceptional, and fatiguing, that they can only be attempted once per day or encounter.  That AEDU system has been roundly and justifiably derided, as riven by disassociated mechanics.  Most importantly, it eliminates an important component of player choice, since it prevents players from re-attempting a daily power, accompanied by some equally significant sacrifice elsewhere.

There's really no justification for the absence of combat fatigue emulation as a feature of DnD combat.  That few, if any, have recognized and rued its absence is the real tragedy.

Jim Roslof And The DSG

I was recently pointed to the blog of Bruce Heard, which got me to thinking about the 1986 ADnD Dungeoneer's Survival Guide and the art of Jim Roslof.

Jim Roslof illustrated about a quarter of the 33-odd illustrations in the DSG.  In my mind, his art offerings provided the real snap to this late 1st Edition ADnD guidebook.

It's not surprising that the Drow should make an appearance in the illustrations of the DSG, considering that they are most famous of the underdark menaces.

The risk of becoming lost while dungeon-delving was an important feature of old-school DnD.  Mapping is one of those activities that is eschewed by players of recent versions of DnD, as it is not "fun."

I'm ambivalent towards the inclusion of skills in DnD.  I understand the benefits, as it regularizes and legitimizes certain in-game activites.  My issue with climbing, blacksmithing and other skills is that it resulted in dice taking the place of description.  Once skills had associated proficiency levels, players picked up the dice rather than engaging in dialogue with the DM.

There are a lot of later DnD players that grew up with the art of Elmore, Easley and Parkinson.  Those three artists introduced a more posed and heroic style to the art of DnD.  The early DnD artists, like Roslof, seemed to understand the sensibilities and gaming styles of the first generation of gamers.  In particular, that the game was about the mundane activities, like lowering the party into the dungeon.  Roslof and others were still able to include a feeling of risk and danger in those illustrations.

Roslof was not the only artist involved in the DSG.  Jeff Easley, Doug Chaffee, Greg Harper and David Sutherland also provided illustrations. 

While I really like Easley's black and white art, when did DnD become about hot, scantily clad wenches? 

Doug Chafee's artwork in the DSG, like the mushroom infested cavern, above, focussed equally on the adventurer's and the underworld environments.

Greg Harper displays a much heavier hand when it comes to his illustrations.  I do like this piece, above, of a party fleeing from some demon-spawn.  Still, the adventurers are more heroic than the ones we see in the artwork of old-school artists like Trampier, Otus or Holloway.

This uncredited David Sutherland piece is reminiscent of the aventuring tableaus found in the ADnD Dungeon Masters Guide appendices.  It seems by 1986, DCS had been relegated to cartography and diagrams, and was no longer the go-to guy for depicting adventurers in historical armor.

Melee And Magic Realm Counters

It should come as little surprise that I like Magic Realm. It includes all sorts of features that I like in a game. A fast, diceless, player-skill combat system. A mysterious and unrevealed backstory. Player agency, with clear and deadly consequences for bad decision-making. A wealth of opportunities for both player cooperation and competition. A circumscribed game length of only one month (28 days), which turns victory into a race against the clock.

And most importantly? Counters. Lots and lots of counters.

Magic Realm is notorious for its fiddly bits and long set-up times. You can easily spend 45 minutes to an hour setting up Magic Realm. That may not seem like a long time, for those of you who enjoy spending hours, as they say in the modern D&D parlance, "building your character", but it does become a barrier to casual gameplay, when other boardgame setups take only minutes.

But those other boardgames don't have cool counters like Magic Realm does. And since i'm also a big fan of Melee and other chit-and-hex microgames, I really dig counters with artwork.

Here are a few Melee counters, juxtaposed with some comparable Magic Realm counters. Metagaming missed the boat with their counters, as they could have easily printed some of the monster and npc stats on the counters included with their various death test adventures.

Tom Moldvay "Gets" Old-School

In addition to editing the 1981 Dungeons and Dragons Basic Set, Tom Moldvay also designed the under-appreciated and long out-of-print Lords Of Creation role-playing game, an RPG that emulates the World Of Tiers universe of Phillip Jose Farmer.

Published by Avalon Hill back in 1983, Lords Of Creation allowed characters to advance from basic human, all the way up to "lord of creation", beings who possess the power to create, and become lords of, pocket universes of their own.

The Lords Of Creation RPG sold poorly, and the planned fourth and fifth pre-packaged adventures for LOC RPG never saw the light of day, although the first three adventures were released: The Horn Of Roland; The Yeti Sanction; and Omegakron.

The third adventure, Omegakron, is set in the ruins of Akron, Ohio; a gamma-world-like setting, several hundred years after a devastating global nuclear and biological war.

Someone has subtly and maliciously altered history, thus creating this alternative "Omegakron" timeline that threatens to usurp the main timeline. The characters trans-dimensional gate to this alternative timeline, and search the ruins of Akron, seeking to identify the altered time event, so that the alteration can be undone and the main timeline saved.
The player characters are sent to Omegakron by the mysterious Time Adjusters, who through some unknown power, have been blocked from accessing this alternative timeline themselves, thus precipitating the enlistment of the adventurers.

Here is the first of two Omegakron examples of how Tom Moldvay "gets" old-school:

"I have purposely kept the origin of the Time Adjusters open to the Game Master's imagination. For one thing, I do not want to restrict the Game Master's creativity. Quite a few adventures can be designed around the Time Adjusters and the GM should be free to use his impression of the Time Adjusters, not mine. Secondly, too much explanation often ruins the mystery, and I prefer the Time Adjusters to remain mysterious. Besides, when I asked them, they wouldn't tell me where they came from."

During the Omegakron adventure, the player characters join the security forces of Akros, a bastion of civilization in the surrounding sea of chaos.
The characters discover that a saboteur has planted bomb aboard the Akros flying city, but the saboteur blows himself up, along with three other suspects, before he can be revealed and the location of the bomb uncovered. The GM hands the players a single page handout containing the police interview notes of each of the suspects , and the players must determine which of the four suspects is lying, thus revealing the identity of the dead saboteur and by extension the location of the bomb, before it explodes.

Tom Moldvay has this to say about this player-skill test:

"This particular encounter was designed to test the reasoning powers of the PLAYERS (emphasis mine), not the skills or powers of the characters. The bomber is the one person among the suspects who is lying. By comparing the statements, it is possible to deduce logically which person is lying, and which people are telling the truth. If the players can deduce who is lying inside of 5 minutes REAL TIME (emphasis mine) give each of their characters 200 xp. For each minute beyond 5 minutes, deduct 10 xp. The players should know in advance that they are being timed (since "real time" does not usually matter in an adventure)."Incidentally, here are two reminiscences of Lords Of Creation, from the RPG.net website:

Yes, this was an awesome game and still is. I ran it for years and everyone had a lot of fun. I bought the Horn of Roland, and Yeti Sanction, and Omegakron, but never could find the other two adventures, Mines of Voria and Towers of Illium, not sure they ever published them. It was chaotic, but the game system is simple and easy to learn and allows characters to feel like they are really making progress with every adventure as their stats rise. Better, from a game master's point of view it allowed me to send them anyplace I could imagine, favourite book worlds, far flung galaxies, strange new dimensions, the beginning of history, ANYWHERE, and I did:)I sent them to medieval France, to many alternate universes ( like the old Sliders series I enjoyed). I shrunk them down to microscopic size and they hung around in the microverse where they discovered the remains of a dying Lord of Creation and his mad invention. I turned them all into cats for one adventure when they angered one of the Animal Lords (from the Book of Foes). They even helped the lost prince of faerie reclaim his throne, the battle being fought on the streets of New York in the late 1800s. They spent a lot of time in the future too (lots of old Dr Who inspiration here). All in all a thoroughly enjoyable game that I still own. Heck I may see if I can get another game started:) Thanks for sharing your experiences, it brought back a lot of good memories.Ah yes, good ol' Lords of Creation. I bought the game, ran my first adventure and suddenly it was The Next Big Thing™ in our gaming group. Got all the adventures for it too, and still have all of it.This game was a total blast. Fortunately my friends also picked up copies so I could play as a PC as well. By the time we stopped playing all of our characters were Lords of Creation. We played for about 3 or 4 years in the late 80's as I recall.We had all kinds of bizarre adventures. One that I ran sticks out in my mind: I had the PCs arrive on a huge starship that was hurtling through interstellar space. Most of the humans onboard had been killed off by the rogue AI ship computer by using various models of killer robots. They eventually discovered that the ship was headed straight for Earth, and so had to find a way to destroy either the AI (and thus saving the few remaining humans), or destroy the entire ship. They tried to take out the AI but failed, and instead destroyed the ship (by making the "reactor core" go critical or some such, I forget exactly), and barely made it out in time. It was a real cliffhanger!On an adventure that a friend of mine ran, my PC aquired a unique weapon called The Voidal Sword™, a sword hilt with a "blade" consisting of the total absence of everything, a void in the multiverse as it were. It could cut though anything, anything at all... there was no defense against it. The next adventure was run by another friend and Romerac Elerion showed up and took it from me. Well, the original GM didn't like that and so the next adventure after that Romerac showed up again and gave it back... apparently he was just borrowing it :p My PC had that sword for the rest of his career, all the way up to Lord of Creation. Yeah, go ahead and try and take from him, I dare you :D We created an entire mythology around this game, added some powers, and all kinds of additional weaponry and artifacts. We eventually tired of it and moved on to GURPS. But man, what a blast we had! Good times.Also, I really like the old school black and white art in the rule book and Book of Foes, back when showing a little flesh just wasn't really an issue, you know what I mean? It's like after that, the roleplaying industry got all "PC" and could no longer show the dreaded boobie :eek: If you can find a copy of this game, I heartily recommend picking it up. There's nothing else quite like it.

Magic Realm: Taking Actions In 2012

As many of you are aware, Avalon Hill's Magic Realm is one of my favorite old-school fantasy RPG boardgames. It is played without a referee, yet has sufficient depth to satisfy your role-playing itch.
We played several games of Magic Realm over the holidays, and were never disappointed with the game play. Hopefully more games will be played in 2012.

For those of you who cannot find a tabletop version of Magic Realm, the free, electronic java implementation, called Realmspeak, is available here.

One of Magic Realm's unique features is the use of action chits to govern what tasks each of the 16 unique characters can perform.

Morritz Eggert of the Westpark Gamers has this to say about Magic Realm's action chits:

"Characters move, fight, cast spells and perform other tasks in Magic Realm utilizing their action chits. Below are the Black Knight's move and fight action chits.

Each action, like moving, fighting or casting a spell comes in Light (L), Medium (M), Heavy (H) or Tremendous (T) versions.

Each action chit includes a speed number, with 1 being the fastest action, 2 being the next fastest, and 8 being the slowest.

Depending on the character you play, some action chits will also have one or more effort stars (* or **), limiting their use, or forcing you to suffer fatigue (rather than wounds) as you overstrain yourself by playing action chits with effort stars.

Playing a combination of action chits that, between them, includes a total of two effort stars, results in one of your twelve action chits becoming fatigued, and therefore taken out of play until your character rests.

The four-tier system of light, medium, heavy and tremendous actions corresponds with everything you do in the game, and is actually very logical and easily understood.

For example, to wear heavy armour, you need to play a heavy move chit, otherwise you won't be able to wear it. Easy, isn't it?

Actually the game is far from obscure or difficult once you play it, and there are no myriad exceptions or special rules like in Advanced Squad Leader.

The best way to learn Magic Realm is have someone teach it to you. I have yet to find somebody who finds the game too complicated when taught to them, because it actually plays very fluidly and logically.

Yes, if you include all advanced and optional rules, you will have a lot to read, but the full game also simulates an absolutely complete and logical fantasy world: seasons; days and nights; weather; warring factions of natives that act realistically, buy and sell items, can be hired, and move around;monsters that have their own life;players that can interact with each other in complicated ways, each with completely different and interesting goals; and a fully fledged magic system that is by far the most interesting of any Fantasy RPG's.

In short, the world of Magic Realm really lives, in the best sense of the word, with a flawless internal logic to it that is far more realistic than the event-card driven games of the "Talisman" school, but can still surprise you at any moment.

Although I have played the game (really often) I still have yet to use every possible spell combination or every available magic item,so many possibilities does this game offer.

In addition, each of the 16 available characters not only has a completely different set of movement, magic and battle chits, but also has 2 special abilities, which makes each character totally unique and forces players to develop different strategies for each of them."

The Endless Stair And Player Choice

Keep On The Borderlands is one of the better TSR modules. Not because it has well-developed NPCs (it doesn't). Nor because of its' exceptional artwork (serviceable, but not mind-blowing). Not even because of it has a sophisticated plot (at best, the DM may tease something out about the Temple of Chaos organizing the scattered humanoids into a raiding force).

What is great about Keep On The Borderlands is that it allows players to select the level of challenge they are willing to face.

Among the rumors provided in Keep On The Borderlands is that the deeper you go within the Caves of Chaos box canyon, the more dangerous the denizens. A cave mouth closer to the canyon entrance is less dangerous, while those at the end of the box canyon are likely filled with fearsome opponents, and fabulous treasures. The players can play-it-safe, and explore the nearer cave-mouths, or take a chance at the deeper ones. The DM can adjudicate the results of that player choice, free of any hint of bias, since it is the players themselves that pick the easier or harder road.

It is well-understood by all experienced D&D players, that the deeper within a dungeon you delve, the more dangerous the traps and monsters. Yet one of the design principles, regularly applied to dungeon creation, is that the stairs to the next-deeper level are difficult to discover. Call that what you like: I call it railroading.

Rather than hiding stairs to the deeper levels, i'm of a mind to have one staircase -- The Endless Stair -- that traverses the entire depth of the dungeon. Not a staircase that goes directly down mind you, but one that meanders, splits, crosses chasms, follows underground rivers, backtracks on itself, and reveals varying architectural styles at different points in its' descent.

As the stairs decend, there are dungeon levels hiving off in different directions, sometimes blocked by hastily-completed walls, or locked and barred doors, offering danger, mystery and treasure. There may be collapsed stair sections along the way, requiring magical or mechanic means of bypass, and portcullises on the staircase preventing immediate entry to lower levels for those lacking creativity, but there will be no question where those stairs are.

The only question ... for the players ... is whether they are feeling lucky today, and want to take a chance exploring lower dungeon levels in exchange for potentially higher rewards.

Roleplaying About Anything

One of the great things about roleplaying games is that just about anything can be used as inspiration for a campaign, setting or encounter. Homebrew Dungeons and Dragons campaigns truly are "Products of Your Imagination(TM)."

For me, music is a powerful source of gaming inspiration. Some two decades ago, I used "King Of Pain," by The Police, as the basis for an encounter. The setting: five seated statues, not specifically identified, but representing the Gods of War, Pain, Plenty, Peace, and Death.

Behind the statues, were various paintings; clues to the encounter, and all images from the Police song. Moving the Statue of the God of Pain would unlock a secret door: moving any of the other statues would jam the secret door mechanism.

Obviously, this tested player skill, not character skill. But I had two huge Police fans at the table, so the test was entirely fair.

Dying Earth RPG Character Creation

It's common knowledge that I possess old-school character-creation sensibilities. My preferences lean towards the 3d6-in-attribute-order method. I'm suspicious of those who avail themselves of the ability-score adjustment rules, and consider the use of 4d6-drop-the-lowest to be needlessly decadent. Don't even get me started on point-buy systems.

Knowing that about me will be of assistance, then, in understanding why I experienced some initial resistance to The Dying Earth RPG character creation system.

The Dying Earth RPG (DERPG) is a deliciously punctilious role-playing game adaptation of the fantasy world conjured by Jack Vance bearing the same name. The introductory chapter to DERPG sets the tone for Dying Earth campaigns, by promulgating the following admonishments:

1. If you're in a fight, something has probably gone horribly wrong ... far better to gain the upper hand through cunning, wit and treachery;
2. Characters are more or less alike ... Dying Earth characters have lightly characterised, streamlined personalities;
3. Killing? How uncivilized ... the accepted way to defeat an opponent is through humiliation, impoverishment and slavery; and,
4. Your character will inevitably suffer reverses. Try to enjoy it ... since character improvement comes from entertaining the other players and GM, look at dismal and ridiculous predicaments as opportunities to use your creativity.

Having been properly forewarned in the introduction, the second chapter of DERPG dives into character creation. Like most role-playing games, every character has certain attributes. In the case of DERPG, there are six principal attributes, which I will equate, roughly, with a D&D equivalent:

Persuade (Charisma) -- this attribute determines how convincing you are
Rebuff (Wisdom) -- this determines your resistance to being hoodwinked
Attack (Strength) -- this determines your combat ability
Defence (Dexterity) -- this determines your ability to avoid blows
Health (Constitution) -- this determines your capacity to absorb damage
Magic (Intelligence) -- this determines your magical aptitude

I use those purported equivalences only as a blunt instrument, to provide some conceptual signposts. The actual employment of the DERPG attributes differs significantly from the use of the cited D&D attributes. Each DERPG attribute, above, will have a score attached to it. In combination with that score, each attribute has six styles. For example, I might have a Persuade score of 9. In addition, I will have one of the following persuade styles: glib, eloquent, obfuscatory, forthright, charming, or intimidating.

In addition to the above attributes, DERPG characters utilize a "faculties" system, that encompasses attack styles, skills, relationships, retainers, possessions, and temptation resistances.

DERPG uses a point-buy method of character creation. Between the six principal attributes and the additional "faculties", each player begins with 60 points to distribute between the attributes and faculties. If players are prepared to allow their attribute 'styles' to be generated randomly, they are awarded an additional 6 points for each attribute style so generated. Since the Health attribute has no related styles, a player could have as many as 90 points [60 + (5 attributes x 6 points)] to distribute between the attributes and faculties.

FACULTIES

Points can be allocated to the following faculties:

Attack Styles: there are six attack styles, with each style costing 2 points from the player's pool. Each attack style comes with a melee and missile weapon skill.

Skills: there are 23 skills (Appraisal, Athletics, Concealment, Craftsmanship, Driving, Engineering, Etiquette, Gambling, Imposture, Living Rough, Pedantry, Perception, Physician, Quick Fingers, Riding, Scuttlebutt, Seamanship, Seduction, Stealth, Stewardship, Tracking, Wealth, and Wherewithal). More than one point can be allocated to a particular skill, so a player may give his character a "gambling" skill of 4 -- thus increasing his chances of success should he engage in a game of cards, for example.

Relationships: players can assign points to relationships with certain notable figures (a prince, famous wizard, captain of the watch) giving them the possibility of enlisting their aid.

Retainers: the cost of those depend on how loyal the retainer is expected to be, whether they be diligent (expensive), unctuous, or recalcitrant (cheap).

Possessions: points must be spent to furnish yourself with worldly goods. Whether it be a foppish hat, fashionable cloak, a length of rope to bind a deodand, a treatise on edible plants, or a good stout cudgel to subdue your foes, each possession costs at least one point. Extra points can be spent to ensure you and your possessions are not easily parted.

Resistances: DERPG characters are notoriously susceptible to temptation, whether it be through arrogance, avarice, gourmandism, indolence, pettifoggery, or rakishness. Players who wish their characters to resist those temptations during the game must spend points during character creation to do so.

There, then, is an overview of the DERPG character creation system. As I mentioned earlier, i'm naturally pre-disposed to dislike point-buy systems, and just as equally resistant to skill systems (despite my affection for Traveller). I will grudgingly admit that this works for DERPG, insofar as the game itself presumes that "characters are more or less alike". Thus, it stands to reason that the character creation system is going to provide roughly equal points to each player. Still, I can't help but wonder whether the DERPG attributes themselves could not be randomly determined ... but there again, my old prejudices rearing their heads.

Several days ago, I passed the 200 followers milestone. I am humbled and honored. There seems to be a tradition in the blogging community (albeit imperfectly observed) that the affected blogger celebrate the occasion by running a contest. Since I have recently become infatuated with The Dying Earth RPG, it is only fitting that I should award a copy of this illustrious RPG tome to one of my wonderful readers. Therefore, from those responders who comment on this post, I will select one, randomly, to which I will bequeath a relatively unblemished copy of that RPG. I ask only that, in your response, you use a Vancian phrase, or Vancian language. From those who respond in the requested manner by 11:59 pm, November 12, 2010, one will be randomly selected and will be mailed the RPG, at my expense.

Cunning, Comedy, Casual Cruelty?

If your answer to this question was The Dying Earth RPG, you'd be right.

The Dying Earth RPG is a role-playing game intended to emulate the world -- and words -- contained in Jack Vance's Dying Earth series of novels and short stories. You'll note that I did not include "Combat" in my alliterative title. I did this for a very simple reason: The Dying Earth RPG actively discourages you from engaging in mortal combat, and the game system reinforces that by making combat very deadly. You only need to take a couple of blows before your character is out-of-commission, or more likely, dead.

What then is The Dying Earth RPG about? It's about clever repartee, social combat, cunning subterfuge, laughter, and casual cruelty.

Clever Repartee

The principle game mechanic of nearly any role-playing game is the system governing the accumulation of experience points. Experience point award mechanics are important in role-playing games, as they are the mechanism permitting character upgrades. The experience point mechanic of an RPG is thus a powerful communicator of what is expected of a Player. In The Dying Earth RPG, experience points are ONLY awarded for clever repartee. No experience for combat. No experience for treasure. Just witty dialogue, elegantly framed in the Vancian style, and delivered with impeccable timing. Therefore, The Dying Earth RPG is a game like no other: it is a role-playing game to its very core.

Social Combat

I'm not a big fan of social combat systems. My reasoning is that those combat systems either encourage conflict between players (PvP conflict typically happens as a matter of course, but i'm not interested in encouraging it) or govern the interactions between player and DM (in which case, as a "fair" DM, you should be able to judge when you have been verbally bested and concede defeat, without having to resort to a die-roll). The Social Combat system in The Dying Earth RPG is based on dice pools. Each player (and any encountered NPCs) has a dice-pool made up of d6's, and can continue spending dice from their pool until they or their opponent has exhausted theirs. Scoring a 1-3 means failure, while a 4-6 means success, with the 1 and 6 being catastrophic failure and incredible success, respectively. Depending on your roll, your opponent may have to expend more, or fewer dice, to respond to your success or failure. This mechanic feels artificial to me, as I would rather engage in the actual role-playing, of two combatants trying to convince the other of the superiority of their position, but the dice-pool is a reasonable substitute, for those who are uncomfortable "talking with funny voices".

Cunning Subterfuge

Like the characters in Vance's Dying Earth books and short stories, each of the Player's characters are lazy, self-absorbed, covetous, avaricious, and arrogant. So are most of the NPC's they encounter. Therefore, the game resolves around the planning and execution of cunning strategems to gain wealth, comfort, power, prestige, fineries, and delicious food, with as little effort and risk as possible.

Laughter

As was mentioned earlier, experience points are awarded for clever repartee. This is accomplished through a mechanism whereby the DM provides several Vancian phrases to each player, prior to the start of the game session. They must weave those phrases into the game at some point during the session. For those who deliver their line, at an innapropriate time, no experience points are awarded. For those lines delivered when appropriate, but eliciting no positive response from the other game participants, one experience point is awarded. But when the line is delivered, and elicits positive responses, propels the adventure in a humorous or unexpected direction, or garners laughter from the other players and DM, two or even three experience points are awarded by the DM. Therefore, Players are encouraged to ham it up, directing the in-game conversations in such a way as to allow for the delivery of their appointed lines.

Casual Cruelty

Casual Cruelty, or "man's inhumanity to man", is a common theme in the tales of the Dying Earth. You see this in the Liane the Wayfarer stories, or in Cugel's treatment by, and of those he encounters in "The Eyes of the Overworld". The author of The Dying Earth exhorts the DM to insert scenes of casual cruelty (sparingly), establishing the nature of the cruelty, and allowing the imaginations of the players to fill in the horrifying details. He opines that a successful scene of casual cruelty will nag at the players after the game, as they think more fully of the implications.

The Dying Earth RPG allows you to run the full gamet of emotions during a role-playing session, from hilarity to horror. The Dying Earth RPG is clearly not for your typical hack-n-slasher, and is more appropriate for your more cerebral gamer. What I love about this game is its respect for the Vancian source material, and its overt discouragement of mortal combat, which is a refreshing change from the direction Dungeons and Dragons has recently been drawn to.

Player Skill: Battle of Wits Combat Systems

Man in Black: All right. Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right... and who is dead.

Vizzini: But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You've made your decision then?

Vizzini: Not remotely. Because iocaine comes from Australia, as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.

Man in Black: Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.

Vizzini: Wait 'til I get going! Now, where was I?

Man in Black: Australia.

Vizzini: Yes, Australia. And you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You're just stalling now.

Vizzini: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you! You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You're trying to trick me into giving away something. It won't work.

Vizzini: IT HAS WORKED! YOU'VE GIVEN EVERYTHING AWAY! I KNOW WHERE THE POISON IS!

How I would love to have a Dungeons and Dragons combat system that emulated the battle of wits scene in The Princess Bride.

One of the touted features of original D&D is its' encouragement of player skill. But many people find the old-school combat system lacking in that area. The main criticism of old-school combat is that deteriorates into an endless exchange of blows. While the criticism is somewhat misplaced, (after all, players should be using their player skills to either avoid combat or ensure that the battlefield is of their choosing) once combat is joined, players are at the mercy of the dice, and the vagaries of the DM, who may be permissive or not when it comes to the players' improvised combat tactics.

Some 'modern gamers' point to the 4E combat system as a solution, as it provides myriad tactical combat choices, providing some measure of player control in finding synergistic combinations of combat abilities to defeat the monsters arrayed against them. But the 4E solution feels completely artificial to me: the combat abilities rarely reflect real combat tactics, and so their selection and employment, in my mind, are examples of system mastery, not player skill. After all, if you look at the example of the battle of wits between Vezzini and the Man In Black, Vezzini is using real-life knowledge (basic psychology, geography, recent events) to try to deduce the mind of his opponent.

One of the great strengths of Avalon Hill's Magic Realm combat system is its' focus on player skill. The system itself is rather straight-forward, and uses the following 'real-life' combat principles:

• Weapon length: longer weapons hit before shorter weapons.
• Weapon speed: faster weapons hit before slower weapons.
• Character speed: faster characters act before slower characters.
• Armor: armor absorbs blows, but can be damaged as a result.
• Weapon harm: heavier weapons do more damage than light weapons.
• Attack Direction: there are three attack directions that correspond to the three dimensions: smash down, swing to the side, and thrust ahead.
• Manuever Direction: there are three manuever directions that correspond to the three attack directions: duck down, dodge to the side, and charge ahead.
• Fatigue: characters are able to perform certain exceptional actions, but doing so causes fatigue, which constrains future activities.

Using the above principles, Magic Realm employs a deterministic (diceless) combat system. Therefore, the results of a combat round are not subject to chance: each player's skill (in making the best selections of weapons, armor, attacks and manuevers, based upon what they know about the capabilities and strategies of their opponents) is the principal factor in determining his or her success or failure.

For example, in Magic Realm, the Dwarf is very slow. His only fast movement, that does not cause him to become fatigued, is his ability to duck down (which makes intuitive sense, since he is short). Another player, knowing this about the Dwarf, would select a smash down attack against the Dwarf, knowing that the Dwarf is most likely to use the duck manuever. Of course, in true Vezzini fashion, the Dwarf knows that other players are aware of his reliance on ducking, and so may employ one of his other manuevers, thus avoiding the smash down attack of his opponent (even if it meant accumulating some fatigue as a result).

I would be interested to learn if others have devised a way to insert player skill into their old-school combat systems, so as to transform them into a battle of wits between the players and the DM.