Uni's Lost Horn

Quick note before we get into it: just want everyone to know that after a bit more reading/perusal, I returned the new 5.5E Dungeon Master's Guide to my local B&N and got my money back ($55 and change). Just a no-brainer when you consider A) I play 1st edition, and B) the book is a steaming pile of garbage. 

One of the last straws that broke the camel's back? Hey, they had Warduke's helmet as a possible magic item!  Here's the description (the accompanying illustration made it clear who it belongs to):

Dread Helm

Wondrous Item, Common

While you're wearing this fearsome steel helm, your eyes glow red and the rest of your face is hidden in shadow.

Check that out...that's all it is. A magic item that has a cosmetic, non-game related effect. It just makes your eyes glow red.

But don't feel like this is something to pawn off on your henchman...this is a common magic item. Which means it can be purchased in any old town.

Common magic items can often be bought in a city or town. 

Cost for a common magic item in 5th edition? 100 g.p. As compared to mundane, non-magical plate armor which costs 1,500 g.p. WTF? Is that verisimilitude? NO. But, hey don't worry, because the book tells you plain and simple:

The Game is Not an Economy. The rules of the game aren't intended to model a realistic economy, and players who look for loopholes that let them generate infinite wealth using combinations of spells are exploiting the rules. 

Of course, what if your players are those "optimizers" who enjoy finding loopholes, just like these? Aren't we supposed to be "making it fun for everyone?" Well...

Rules Rely on Good Faith Interpretation. The rules assume that everyone reading and interpreting the rules has the interests of the group's fun at heart and is reading the rules in that light.

I think you're making a BIG assumption there...an assumption that anyone is going to READ these rules. Rules that are subject to arbitrary change by the DM, so they really don't matter. Hell, it doesn't even matter if the DM knows the rules. Look what's here on the same page (this is Chapter 1, by the way):

Knowing The Rules

You don't have to be an expert on the rules to be a good DM. Of course, itt's helpful to be familiar with the rules especially the ones in the Player's Handbook. But facilitating fun is more important that implementing the rules perfectly. If you're not sure how to apply the rules in a situation, you can always ask the opinion of the players as a group. It might take a few minutes, but it's usually possible to reach an answer that feels fair to everyone, and that's more important than a "correct" answer.

Just about every sentence in that paragraph is incredibly, seriously wrong. And why do they put the word "correct" in quotation marks? Because what is "correct" is just a matter of opinion? Truth is up for interpretation? Yeah, it feels like I've heard that a lot lately.

ANYway...if I'd read that "knowing the rules" sidebar sooner, I would have dumped the book even faster. But then I couldn't have given you folks my rant-y review. Ah, the things I do for my readers!

Moving on.

As I noted earlier, one of the things that intrigued me about the DMG5.5 (before disgust overwhelmed anything else) was the inclusion of the "D&D kids" from Saturday Morning cartoons. I was a big fan of those cartoons growing up...in fact, if hard-pressed, they might edge out Thundarr the Barbarian as the all-time favorite of my childhood. Certainly, the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon was the ONLY cartoon that made me set an alarm Friday night so that I wouldn't miss it in the morning!

I am of the opinion that THAT particular IP is an un-mined resource for nostalgia (and revenue)...so when I saw that they were throwing those dudes into the artwork and "lore" of 5.5 I was kind of thrilled. And, THEN, I became curious...extremely curious...about one particular image:

See that odd duck over on the left? That's "Niko."

Who the heck is this Niko person?

This illustration led me down a rabbit hole of internet Googlings, till I found the answer: no, Niko was not a character from some un-watched (or un-developed) TV episode. She is a cleric character created for use with an adventure module featuring the D&D kids that WotC produced as part of their 50th anniversary celebration. She even has a "magic weapon" of her own, imaginatively called "Niko's Mace" (though that item is not in the DMG5.5, unless I somehow missed it). 

That adventure (which I'd never heard of before yesterday) is called Uni and the Hunt for the Lost Horn. And after much, much scouring of the inter-webs, I was able to find a PDF copy. Here's my capsule review (in the style of Mr. Bryce Lynch):

This 48 page adventure uses three pages to describe a tiny "demi-plane" dungeon consisting of five encounter areas. It is for 5th edition, which means it's trash anyway, but at least it does not provide any personality, background, or role-playing notes for the seven pre-generated characters included with the module, so your table should be mercifully spared faux-acting and cobbled drama. My childhood has been mined for profits and my life is a living hell.

*ahem*

The adventure seems loosely based on the Episode 4 of the cartoon series, "Valley of the Unicorns" (yes, yes, I am a tremendous nerd). Which I remember as being quite good. It has a demon idol, a great villain, a sinister plan, a Daern's Instant Fortress, miserable de-protagonization of cutesy fairy tale creatures, an appearance of the Imprisonment spell (one of the more awesome moments of the series, IMO), and a pack of worgs. I mean, it's very "D&Dish," even if the characters aren't looting the hell out of everything.

ANYway, the Lost Horn adventure isn't nearly as cool. A couple of lame fights, maybe some double-crossing with a bullywug chieftain (?), and a deus ex machina at the end where Venger comes in and finishes the fight. I mean, it's really pretty dumb.

But what it DOES have is, again, nice artwork illustrating the artist's idea of what the grown up D&D kids look like. And that's pretty nifty (though, honestly, I don't think they needed to turn Bobby into a gym bro; I see a lot of crushed Coors light cans in his dorm room...). That's neat...un-tapped potential finally being tapped (as they probably should have done for the D&D movie).

"Battle Medic," natch

I don't even mind Niko terribly. I can already tell that the inclusion of a new cast member will raise the hackles of some fans (doesn't it always?) especially as her obvious "diversity" will be interpreted as, well, obvious diversity (which some people dislike). But let's be honest here: if the kids were an actual D&D party, they would want a cleric, no? None of them have much in the way of first aid training and any scrape from a bullywug spear is likely to get infected (and so many of these kids insist on roaming the wilderness in shorts and bare arms...) and lead to an untimely death. Well, maybe...I suppose the cartoon's not called Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. Perhaps tetanus isn't a thing in "the Realm."

[whether it is or isn't, I have to admit she's pretty superfluous. This IS 5E, after all, so it's not like people die easily. Also, no undead in the adventure]

So...grown up kids? Cool. Everything else? Not so much. 

And reading through this reminded me this isn't the first time WotC has tried to stat out the D&D kids for the game; sometime circa 2007, they sold a special DVD box set of all the cartoon episodes...which I own. In addition to the disks and a bunch of ink drawings and collectable cards, the box contained an actual honest-to-goodness adventure (written for DND3) with write-ups of all the characters, plus Venger (an 18th level, half-infernal for the curious)!

Unlike, Uni's Lost Horn, the PCs in this adventure are STILL KIDS.  And they're 7th level adventurers (in Lost Horn, they're only 4th level). The adventure (credited to Matthew Sernett) is called Beneath the Blade of Sword Mountain, which kind of kicks the ass of "Uni's Lost Horn." Oh, you want the capsule review again? Here it is:

This twenty-six page adventure uses nine pages to describe four encounter areas, including each area's individual battle map. Most of the remaining pages are taken up with full page artwork of the D&D characters. The writing is extremely tiny, the page size is the same as a DVD case, and I am so old I needed a magnifying glass to read Mr. Sernett's name in the designer credits.

No cleric in this one (and no undead either or the D&D kids would be So Screwed!). Interesting that in addition to a full 3E stat block (skills! feats!), each character gets a paragraph of text describing their personality and relationship with the other PCs...role-playing notes, in other words. Which are completely absent from the Uni's Lost Horn adventure.

Why am I bothering to write about all of this? Well for one thing, it's Friday and that seems to be the day I have more free time for blogging (though I made time for yesterday's bile. Man, did it get my dander up!). But also, because it's put an idea into my head: maybe I want to do my own version of the D&D kids...for AD&D, of course...along with some sort of adventure.  In fact, there's no "maybe" about it; I definitely want to do this!

Yes, indeedy. The only question is, which tack do I take? Old kids or young kids? And do I write my own adventure or rewrite one of these two?  And if I do decide to make my own, should I use one of the old cartoon episodes as inspiration? There are a few good ones to draw from. More than a few. I kind of want to (re-)do Valley of the Unicorns, because Kelek is so dastardly as an evil wizard. I dig it. You tell me.

Okay, that's enough for a Friday afternoon. And here's your "moment of zen:"

A LOT of crushed beer cans...

Incentivizing

So many times these days, my blog posts feel like deja vu: that I am simply harping on the same issues, or trying to find different tacks to explain the same concepts that I've already written about ad nauseum. Of course, sometimes it's probably appropriate and useful to explain hard-to-grasp concepts multiple times in different, variant fashions.  

Heck, The Bible uses four Gospels to get the same point across, right?

ANYway, it probably doesn't help I pen my thoughts on discord channels, forums, and other folks' blog comments...sometimes I forget what I've written here versus what I've scribbled elsewhere. I'm not quite the internet rash I was ten years ago, but I'm still spread around a bit.

Here's a recent one from the CAG ("Classic Adventure Gaming") discord: a guy (let's call him "Joe") penned this the other day:

I'm, of course, breaking one of the great taboos by giving my 1E AD&D players XP just for showing up and making an effort, but after 30 sessions they still don't seem to grasp that the motherload is when they engage in combat and get loot. A session of exploration typically nets them 500XP, but the week they beat up the tomb guardian and nabbed its goodies, they must have come out at nearly 1500. After they cleared the tomb I dropped HEAY hints that there was more to explore in the immediate area, but they scurried back to base without so much as a backward glance. Leaving all that sweet, sweet gold (and XP) behind.

To which I replied (in part):

...I totally understand the frustration of slow advancement, but you don't want to train players that they're going to be rewarded for "showing up." 

...if (as I infer) you're running a long-form campaign, don't the PCs run out of money due to their lack of treasure acquisition? Are they constantly starving, running out of resources, etc.? How do they pay for mounts, henchfolk, mercs, arrows, expenses, etc.? Are they not incentivized to pull themselves out of poverty?

Because, you know, treasure...the acquisition of wealth..should be THE incentive in any AD&D game. Here was Joe's response:

Money not been an issue so far. They scraped by in the first adventure, then as a reward for resolving the situation the Paladin's PC was asked to continue to follow the clues they had uncovered and given a bag of gold by his Church superiors to buy him and his associates mounts and enough food to get to the next site. As they get into so little combat the attrition on their gear is minimal and I allowed the Ranger to craft more arrows in downtime. TBH, as only one of them had played AD&D before I wanted to keep the bean counting to a manageable level in case it put them off. I am tracking time (loosely, so I know where we are on the campaign calendar and generally have been reinforcing that if they want to fine-tooth-comb any place then any spells will have worn off by the time they are finished) but no training costs, their only henchman willingly joined them because they'd saved and taken care of the rest of his gang, and I also assume that when travelling across country (which I'm not doing as a hexcrawl) then the Ranger and Druid between them can keep them in game, roots, berries and water. Handwaving a few other things, but I am enforcing consumables for the wizard, and the cost of ink to write new spells (as well as the time it takes so they're having to make decisions about how long they can afford to sit around while he does it).

*sigh*

SO...this post is not intended to 'throw Joe under the bus' (for the record,  I feel I tried to give some helpful, compassionate advice on the discord channel), but I want to use this post to illustrate some bad DMing habits, and how they wreck your game.  Joe's not the only DM out there who has gone all loosey-goosey when running his/her campaign, worrying that "bean counting" is going to ruin the fun and enjoyment of the game. It's a common occurrence. And it ends up causing all sorts of issues as the DM has to patch one leak and then another and then another until the campaign is finally sunk.

Here's "absolute truth #1:" AD&D runs on treasure. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Treasure acquisition drives the game; it is the objective goal that focuses the players, encourages cooperation, rewards ingenuity, and makes for exciting game play. It is the main road to advancement, which results in greater character effectiveness, which opens more content for exploration. It is objective and concrete: a solid, non-arbitrary, non-subjective goal. It starts and spurs action.

Your players should ALWAYS be interested in, and looking for, treasure.

If they're not, then there is something wrong with your campaign setting, pal. There is a distinct lack of attention being paid to the world building. Different players have different amounts of ambition; different players have different amounts of caution. Relative ambition and relative caution are the two "dials" that determine how fast advancement occurs...the drive to pursue treasure. But the desire for treasure should be a constant imperative of AD&D game play. If it's NOT, then some examination is probably necessary.

Read Joe's response again, and let's take this point by point:

• Paladins aren't getting gold from their Church; they are GIVING gold to their Church. The tenets of the paladin class are pretty clear: they are required to donate the bulk of their wealth to charitable institutions. These characters are MONEY-MAKERS for their religion; certainly, the Church will send them on missions, but with the expectation that they will be returning with vast amounts of loot to fill the clergy's coffers. Hell, they should be positively TASKED with this expectation.
• Crafting arrows (or any kind of weapon or armor) is not the purview of a character class; unless a character possesses a secondary skill of bowyer/fletcher the making of arrows should be far more mysterious than the using of said arrows. And making arrows isn't as simple as whittling some tree branches...arrows suitable for penetrating armor (whether that of orcs or bandits or dragonhide) are going to need metal tipped heads, specially forged. And where is the ranger getting feathers for fletching? And are they taking the time to steam and straighten and lacquer the shafts? Have they paid for the equipment they need to craft the arrows? Unlikely, since they don't have the money to purchase a quiver themselves.
• I don't do "training costs" myself, but I DO charge monthly character expenses (DMG p.25) to take into account (in an abstract fashion) all those other sundry costs that come from BEING A LIVE FUNCTIONING PERSON. And henchfolk need those 'cost of living' expenses met, too! Sure, the player characters can choose to be unbathed, unshaved, dressed in filthy, patched rags, and sleep in the dirt outside of town...but after a month or two of that, even the most grateful "found" henchperson is going to walk away. Who wants to live like that? After braving hardship and danger, risking life and limb, you can't even get a bath or a change of clothes? Are you kidding me? Those henchmen are going to walk!
• Leaving aside how difficult "foraging" enough food for a half dozen people might be, leaving aside how time intensive hunting can be (i.e. how many days it might take to even locate game), just how much energy is a group of adventurers going to need for hiking through the wilderness and battling monsters? After a couple weeks of subsisting on "roots and berries" are they going to be in any condition to fight?  ALSO, working animals (horses, mules, etc.) do not subsist on "game, roots, and berries." Nor do they simply "graze." They need animal feed...and lots of it!...especially if they are carrying burdens or riders. Any steeds are going to die of starvation and overwork if chained to an impoverished adventuring party.

Players these days seem not to grasp the logistics of "adventure" these days. It's not their fault, of course: they've been weened on really sub-par fantasy literature, video games, and films that focus on spectacle over substance. Sign of the times. I was somewhat the same as a youth, though at least I'd done SOME camping as a Boy Scout, and could extrapolate a bit. But reading good adventure fiction also helps immensely. I've been doing some of that lately...checking out old Tarzan novels, H. Rider Haggard, Harold Lamb, etc. Books that deal with provisioning, overland travel, and exploration. The COST of expeditions in these books make it clear to the undertakers that they must have success in their ventures (i.e. they must reap some sort of monetary/financial reward). It is an absolute imperative...otherwise, they might as well not bother trying to get back to civilization.

This is The Way of adventure gaming: adventure gaming of the sort AD&D provides can sustain long-term, engaging play when run in this fashion. "Oh, how boring. Where's the story?" cry some. Look: I enjoy a good escapist novel or popcorn film as much as anyone...but the thing about such stories is 1) they tell the story, and then 2) they're done. Move on to the next distraction. Adventure gaming provides long-term, sustained entertainment...it doesn't end. There's no "beginning, middle, climax" of a story. We are playing (imaginary) people's LIVES. We are creating/exploring a fantastical (imaginary) WORLD. It is the highest form of imaginary gameplay...why would you want to shrink it to a simple "story?"

So you need costs. Because you need incentives. Because that is the gameplay loop that gets you to adventure gaming. The fewer the costs, the less incentive. And, thus, the less adventure.

My players are currently running through my rewrite of I3. It's not I3...it has different maps, different encounters, different background. It's actually pretty much nothing like I3, except that it features a pyramid in a desert wasteland. Oh, and there's an exterior temple with some fanatics. Yeah, that's about where the similarities end (except that there will be two additional sections of "desert wasteland," featuring a shifty "nomad town" and a "lost wizard tomb" a la I4 and I5). 

Why are the players heading out into the rugged wasteland that is southern Idaho? Because they've heard of this pyramid that might have left over loot in it. This is pretty crazy for 1st level characters (the adventure is geared to levels 3rd - 5th) but they are a determined, ambitious (crazy) bunch. Still, they had to use all their coin just to buy a mule and provisions for a three day journey from the last civilized outpost (Rattlesnake Station), choosing the roughest, most direct route to their destination to save on expenses. They have to succeed in finding treasure...failure is no longer an option. They have pushed all their chips into the pile: they'll either come away with fabulous wealth, or they'll be rolling up six new PCs. 

When you run a campaign that has adequate costs, "hooking" players into action becomes very, very easy. Treasure becomes the primary motivator, the number one incentive, and all the DM must do is dangle the idea of a payday in front of the players. They'll travel to ancient and hostile cities, deliver freight by ship through pirate & monster infested waters, brave scorching deserts, frozen tundras, primeval forests filled with inhuman faery creatures. No one in their right mind goes into some fortified tomb riddled with slimes, undead, and death traps...unless there's the opportunity for a huge score. But that huge score is only enticing if and when the players have needs. 

You, DM, must provide those needs.

I don't run my game in a strict 1:1 time fashion, except between adventures (i.e. outside the dungeon). I charge expenses every game month that passes, even if the PCs are "out on safari" (in the wilderness, in the dungeon) 20 days out of the month..it is presumed, they'll have even more costs, once they finally reach the safety of town/civilization. Those expenses eat wealth at a high rate, even without training costs. If my players' 6th level parties go 4 months between adventures (because we can't get together, or because they're focusing on other characters), they'll each need to hand over 2,400 g.p. when we pull those characters out again, plus the costs for their henchfolk. That could easily add up to a bill of more than 10K. Even if they invest some of their loot in money-making ventures (a wise choice), I'm going to charge their liquid assets...and with a long enough period of inactivity, they may be left with nothing more than the income from their dry goods store (or whatever). And if that is how they want to live out their (imaginary) lives perhaps it's time to simply retire the character from play.  

Old TSR modules are littered with retired adventures running taverns and inns and shops. 

AD&D runs on treasure. It is the only incentive you really need, although players (when engaged with a campaign) always seem to find other motivations for action (revenge and charity are the two I most often see). But treasure should ALWAYS be there, as an incentive...for engagement, for action. And it always will be there...so long as you, DM provide them with reasons to need the money.

; )

Desolation

The last couple days I've been going through the old TSR modules I3: Pharaoh, I4: Oasis of the White Palm, and I5: Lost Tomb of Martek. Pharaoh was Laura and Tracy Hickman's first (self-published) adventure module prior to their being hired on at TSR...along with Rahasia, it was on the strength of this module that the couple were acquired. I've owned the TSR version of Pharaoh...and the its sequel titles...for decades. I first ran I4 for several cousins at a Christmas gathering in Port Angeles, circa 1986 or '87. I ran the entire trilogy for my brother and his friends circa '88 or '89.

I don't think I've looked at them since. And it shows as, in more than a decade of writing this blog, I've mentioned them only a couple times...and then only briefly. 

[oh, what's all this about then? Aren't I supposed to be continuing my prior post about "adventures?" Yeah, I am. Is this a sign that I'm procrastinating? Probably. Still figuring out how I want to start and whether or not it needs to be a two-parter. Patience, folks! I'll get to it!]

So why am I looking for them now? Well, in considering fitting the entirety of the War of the Lance campaign (a campaign played out on a rather small continent) into my little corner of fantasy reality, I started thinking about the Hickman's other noteworthy creation (not Ravenloft): the Desert of Desolation trilogy. After all, the desert was a magical, cursed creation...how big is it that it couldn't be laid over a corner of my world?  

Welp, it turns out...not very big at all. The area it encompasses is about 90 miles across its longest axis and 50 miles the other way. It's too much area to wedge in south of the Palouse (where I would have liked to have it), but it would be pretty easy to throw in that southeast corner of Oregon.  Just means I have to actually develop Oregon, a world building exercise I'm NOT extremely enthused about.

But WHY Desolation? Well, it's in that low/mid-range level of adventures. My players are in that range. And they were pre-Dragonlance/story garbage, so they should be...um, okay? And they're well-written/laid out (i.e. nice and clear for reading) so prep is minimal. And I do have fond memories of them...how would my memories hold up upon analysis with my old, veteran (geezer) eyes.

How indeed.

I3: Pharaoh is "designed for a party of six to eight players of the 5th to 7th levels of experience." I4: Oasis of the White Palm is written for characters of level 6th to 8th. I5: Lost Tomb of Martek is written for levels 7th to 9th. Reading this we can infer that a party of the proper number should expect to gain a level of experience upon completion of each portion of the trilogy (or, at least, after finishing the first two portions).

SO...a party of the maximum size (eight) should EXPECT to receive enough x.p. to level them from 5th to 6th level after I3 and from 6th to 7th after I4. Everyone groks this, right? A 5th level fighter needs 17,000 experience points to rise to 6th level, but I think it's okay peg this at 15.5, considering almost all fighters should receive a 10% bonus, given the ability score guidelines in the PHB. So, 15.5 x 8 = 124K. Now, for me, I'd probably want that entire amount (124,000) available in potential treasure found, especially in a trap/trick-heavy dungeon like Pharaoh, but I'd be satisfied with 60%-70% considering monster encounters and the possibility of selling unwanted magic items (yes, there is such a thing in AD&D). So, let's call it 74K - 86K worth of treasure at minimum.

A quest-giving ghost isn't
bad...but what if the cleric turns it?

How much does Pharaoh offer? 72,335 worth (if one counts the Star of Mo-Pelar as a gem of seeing). And that's pretty close to right! Especially when one understands the Hickman's presume goody-good adventurers who will most likely sell that libram of ineffable damnation for 40,000 rather than retaining (and using) it for 8,000. 104,000 x.p.? Not bad. And while the distribution isn't great (just under 33% of numbered encounters have treasure)...it's OKAY (B/X distribution is one-to-three, but I prefer my AD&D adventures to have more of a 40-50% ratio). Yes, the Hickmans had some design chops, back in the day.

Oasis of the White Palm, unfortunately, is not quite as good. A group of eight 6th level PCs of the fighter variety would need 255K (including 10% bonus) to achieve 7th level...the minimum suggested for the final part of the trilogy. I4 (credited to Tracy Hickman and Philip Meyers) provides only a bit more than 62,000 (62,519, to be exact), of which barely more than 35K is monetary treasure. 

A couple quick caveats: there is MORE treasure than that in the adventure, but acquiring it would require the PCs to rob/kill the many good-aligned NPCs that they are supposed to be aiding (I don't think that's the authors' intention!). The players are working for a Sheik Kassim Arslan, who does offer "the wealth of my tent" in exchange for the PCs' help which means, taken literally, that he could dig up another 17,250 worth of treasure experience (16,250 x.p. worth is actual monetary treasure). BUT...would the leader of his tribe REALLY give up a decanter of endless water (considering they're a band of desert nomads!)? Would he bankrupt his clan out of gratitude? Um...

Even so, that's under 80K in treasure experience. Even if we gave 'em that 60% leeway you're only about halfway to where you need to be (you'd want over 152,000). This is TERRIBLE...especially considering the overall quality of the module (in comparison to other modules of the time) and the attention displayed in I3. Quite possibly Oasis was rolled out with less play-testing (I3 had been developed over several years prior to its TSR publication in 1982; I4 was published in 1983).

Anyway, it IS possible to get the treasure count higher: by selling all the crap magic items that are present throughout the adventure. Four maces +1. Chainmail +2, plate +1. A scimitar +1, shield +2, sword +2. 6 arrows +1 and a potion of gaseous form. And...hoo boy!...more cursed magic items than I've EVER seen in a single adventure; here's the full list:

Potion of poison, incense of obsession (x2!), phylactery of monstrous attention, periapt of foul rotting, necklace of strangulation, helmet of opposite alignment, and the skull of cargath (an evil artifact that injures non-evil clerics if used). Of course, there's also a libram of gainful conjuration that only functions for neutral magic-users and drive NON-magic-users insane. 

I mean, it's really notable just how shitty the treasure is in this adventure. 20,000 g.p. worth of the monetary treasure comes from a pair of gemstone eyes in a statue that will PROBABLY BE DESTROYED by the PCs as the statue summons a relentless hoard of monsters so long as the eyes are functioning, and they may be destroyed far more swiftly than pried out (resulting in the total treasure "take" to be reduced substantially). Likewise, two of the major opponents in the adventure are DROW (in the desert! In the freaking desert!!) armed with all the usual Drow goodies (magic weapons, armor, cloaks, boots, etc.) ALL of which dissolve in sunlight (and such is stated in the module text). Did I mention this adventure takes place in a DESERT?

*sigh* Now I feel bad for pumping the tires on this module.  I'm going to blame the absence of Laura from the design process, but...poorly done, Oasis. Poorly done.

Lastly, we come to I5: Lost Tomb of Martek (credited solely to Tracy Raye Hickman). Assuming, somehow, we get the character to the minimum suggested level (7th) to tackle this, will they find the adventure "rewarding?" How does 127,000 experience points worth of potential treasure sound? To me, it sounds like "not much" for a party of eight 7th level characters. Considering a fighter is looking for 55,000 x.p. to advance (and an 8th level character would be looking for 125K!!!) that's a pretty small dent in the overall pie needed to level up.

"But JB! They don't NEED to level up at the end of this epic adventure do they?" No, I suppose not. But 80+ numbered encounters (in I5 alone)? How many sessions to navigate this thing? How many months spent playing out the entirety of this trilogy? Still: here's the part that REALLY chaps my hide:

There are only eight encounter areas in the entire adventure module that contain treasure. That's less than 1-in-10.  That SUCKS.

And really only SIX encounter areas...because at the end of the adventure, after you've gone through all the time, space, distance distortion levels and fought upteen monsters (many the same-same types of monsters) and halve faced untold frustrations with the crazy tricks/traps...after all THAT you get to Martek's dimensionally displaced tomb and see his treasure halls (three different chambers) with wealth so vast that the thieves that beat you there have LITERALLY DIED OF HEART ATTACKS FROM GLIMPSING THE TREASURE and you (DM) get the following instructions from the module:

Everything in the citadel. including all treasure, cannot be taken out of the citadel without Martek's permission. All of Martek's treasure has been magically enchanted so that it cannot be removed from this citadel. Only Martek can remove that enchantment, so unless he says it can go, it stays.

So, guess what: the PCs don't get to cart off all the treasure. IF they raise Martek from the dead (the goal of the adventure) he thanks the PCs and allows each to select THREE items from the hoard of items available. That 127K figure I came to? That's from assuming you have an average (surviving) party size of six and are selecting the 18 most profitable (in terms of x.p.) items from the hoard.

Still, it would be unfair not to point that many of these items are rare, "big ticket" types, easily worth three to five times their value on the open market: a lot of magical books (including a book of infinite spells), a dancing sword, a nine lives stealer, a shield +5. Selling those items (instead of retaining them) would make for a fairly profitable haul...AND keep the party's inventory of enchanted items manageable.

[for what it's worth, Lost Tomb of Martek is also mercifully devoid of cursed magic items]

When it comes to AD&D, selling magic items is both valid and necessary with regard to the game economy. It doesn't mean that there are "magic shops" in your game world (*barf*)...generally, the DM simply hand waves the sale and the item vanishes from play, replaced with a pile of gold (and x.p.). You can make it a bigger deal, forcing players to find buyers. etc. (I've done this at times), but then you risk players trying to steal items back or knock-over the dude who has the money for such a purchase...which short-circuits the game economy (not the game world economy, but the way the mechanics of the game interacts with each other). 

Still, finding buyers of 20K or 40K items in the middle of the desert (much less willing to buy cursed items) is a bit of a stretch for the verisimilitude of one's campaign.

[as an aside, I'll note that Anthony Huso, in his adventure design, uses the cash value of magic items when doing his spreadsheets for treasure as opposed to x.p. value (which I generally do). This is probably the better procedure for DMs whose players are likely to dig every piece out of all the nooks and crannies, or who play regular, looong sessions. For an intermittent campaign, or one where players routinely miss half of what's available, using the x.p. value for treasure counts seems to work slightly better]

Of course, Hickman is not overly concerned with verisimilitude. He clearly stated his design priorities long before joining TSR with his wife, endeavoring to meet four objectives:

1. a player objective more worthwhile than simply pillaging and killing
2. an intriguing story that is intricately woven into the play itself
3. dungeons with some sort of architectural sense, AND
4. an attainable and honorable end within one or two sessions playing time

That's really the whole "Hickman Revolution" in a nutshell, isn't it? Less attention paid to the mechanics of D&D (like treasure acquisition), instead looking to meeting "story goals." Elaborate plots and story arcs to be played out (with hard rails coded in to prohibit deviation). Expansive, isometric dungeon maps. And assumptions of "heroic goodness" from the players in a battle against evil.

[ha! Just realized Oasis of the White Palm, much like DL2: Dragons of Flame, has one of those "dying bystander" info-dump encounters where the NPC dies, no matter how much healing PCs might apply. See GusL's post for an echo of my opinions on this tactic]

Okay...that's long enough for now; have to run some errands before the kids get out of school (Wednesday's their short day). I have a couple more things to say about the Desert of Desolation series...especially with regard to dromedaries and the logistics of desert travel...but that's going to have to wait for a later post. Maybe tomorrow. When I try to tie this whole thing into the "better adventure design" conversation.

; )

Later, Gators.

"Get Out Of Jail Free" Cards

I have a VERY busy day today...the girl child has a weekend tournament starting today (did I not mention she has now joined the same premier soccer club as the boy?) with TWO games in Woodinville. Meanwhile, my wife is going into the office and the boy has his own practice, so I have...mm...approximately three hours before I need to wake the kids, get them organized, breakfasted, packed and ready (with solid snacks for later in the day), to drop D at her place of employment (she has a window at 1pm) before zipping S over to the east side. Hopefully, I can pick up some cheap(er) wine (between games) at St. Michelle.

Last night was another late one, but I was in charge of the midnight wrangling and decided to go to bed afterwards. Not that it helped: the old beagle was up at the crack of sunrise getting me up. Tried to go back to sleep...no dice. Now I'm waiting for the coffee to brew while she snoozes on the floor. Man, she is a loud snorer!

Here's how things went down in our game (I'll give the abbreviated, bullet-point version):

• A session earlier, the party (bags laden with treasure, desperate to find the countess, running out of time as far as sunset coming) had encountered the mad butler, Belview wandering in the downstairs passages. Belview (think "malnourished Mr. Carson on crack") is pretty much as written in original Ravenloft adventure. Salamander (Diego) wanted to take the guy hostage at sword-point and make him give up the location of the countess; Potter (Sofia) wanted to follow him around, pretend like they were guests at the castle, and see if they couldn't bluff their way through things (and not just brutalize the poor NPC). Potter won out but, sadly, was forced to swiftly/mercilessly one-shot the butler when he came at her with a hatchet in the kitchen. Diego was livid, now they would get NO information out of the guy! However, Misha had a scroll with the speak with dead spell, and the party decided to call up Belview's shade for interrogation. Misha informed them they could ask FOUR questions; for your enjoyment:

Where is the countess? 'She sleeps...sleeps...in her cold, stone bed..."

Where is that?! 'In the crypts, in her tomb, in the darkness...surrounded by the dead..."

Where are the crypts? 'Beneath the chapel, of course...the stairs that lead down, down, down..."

How can we pass the masonry wall that blocks the stairs? 'Perhaps a pick axe, master...'

Is there any other way into the crypts?!  (*silence*)

• The players had quite good maps of the upper levels and had found the chapel and the stairs (with its barrier wall) early in their exploration (within the first hour or so of arriving). Being stymied at this point they proceeded to explore the larders and dungeon, looking for another way in, but not finding it, eventually ending the session with their confrontation with the flesh golem (as told). 
• Picking up the new session: the party continued their exploration, thinking they were on the right track...and then discovering they had simply returned to already explored rooms via different passages. Sofia suggested they go find a large drill to get through the masonry wall. Diego did not appreciate her snark. Then they remembered the party had not one but TWO potions of gaseous form (found in their last adventure)...could we divide their contents amongst the party members and bypass the wall? Only one way to find out...
• [I had already determined (randomly) how many turns it would take before the vampires would find the PCs. In addition, I decided that any wandering monster results would ALSO indicate discovery by the hunters]
• The plan worked, every adventurer drinking off a third of a potion, giving just enough time (and then some) to pass the crack in the wall. On the other side, finding themselves in the labyrinthine crypts, they waited for each party member to coalesce and reform. In the distance, they heard a long-wailing scream (Revlin the Ranger...left behind in the iron statue room with zero hit points...had just been discovered). 
• Ignoring the side passages, the party carefully proceeded through the main thoroughfare of the crypts, eventually coming to the stairs leading downward to a teleportation curtain. This stymied them though they tried several different ways to circumvent its effects (in the original module, the barrier prevents all but lawful good characters from passing...since I don't use alignment in my campaign, I'd already decided a character must strongly present a cross...or other "holy symbol"...to cross the thing; this the players did not try). While still pondering the curtain, the players were discovered by Paris and Sacha (half-vamps) and the first "big battle" occurred.
• Except that it wasn't all that big: the characters had already found (and were wielding) the sunblade and Potter quickly disposed of the vamps in two melee rounds (dispersed to mist). Salamander was reduced to 4th level, but otherwise the party was fine.
• More searching of the landing (for secret doors) as the party looked for a way past the curtain when the wandering monster result indicated to other vampires showed up: Strasha, her maid Helga, and Duke Davich. Terse words were exchanged. The countess began casting a spell (hold person); the party threw a dagger and disrupted it. The party charged; the vampires changed into mist. 
• More discussion amongst the party members what to do; more things were tried. In the distance, a terrible baying noise echoed through the catacombs: the hell hounds had been released! The party prepared themselves (again) as the pony-sized beasts exploded out of the darkness! Combat was joined!
• A little singed, the party quickly gained the upper hand...however, the demon dogs provided cover for the vampires. First, Carnen (Maceo's assassin) was felled by a sleep spell. Then the party was struck by confusion: Ireena the fighter (an NPC liberated from the castle dungeons) was left standing dumbfounded, while Salamander wandered off into the darkness. Duke Davish attacked...and was quickly vanquished by Potter and the sunblade. The countess and her maid again changed to mist as the party prepared to counterattack. 
• Potter and Misha (now reduced to 3rd level) abandoned the sleeping Carnen and catatonic Ireena to track down Salamander. They found him a few minutes later, scratching at the door to another crypt. Rousing him from the spell they decided, perhaps, that his madness had been fortuitous and that they should indeed try to open the crypt where they'd found him. However, Potter's great strength was not enough to pry the thing open, and their labors were interrupted yet again by words of magic: they turned to find themselves now confronting THREE Strashas and her maid. Misha attempted to use her cross to turn the vampires...and failed. "Drop that thing and bow to me," intoned the countess as she sought to charm the cleric. However, Misha's saving throws remained good and three remaining party members rushed to engage the creatures. 
• The battle did not go well for the party: Misha was reduced to -1 hit points (and 2nd level) by Helga. Salamander was able to dispel one of Strasha's mirror images and reduce Helga to one hit point, but was himself drained again (to 3rd level), with three hit points remaining. Potter managed to strike for maximum damage (24 points!)...but again, this only dispelled the second of the vampire's illusions. Strasha then ripped the throat out of the fighter, dropping him to 2nd level and -7 hit points. The sunblade clattered upon the stones. 
• The countess turned on the lone assassin: "I would not gift you with immortality." She simply kicked him. The damage roll was minimal: 1 point. With Strasha's strength bonus (+4), that dropped him to -2. "You will suffer long in my dungeons. Fetch manacles, Helga."

So ended our adventure for the night.

Except then it didn't...

As per usual we (briefly) debriefed the session, discussing what had worked, what hadn't, who was left alive (Carnen, Ireena, and Sal) and what would happen to them (starvation in a small cell and then zombiefication to replace fallen "soldiers"). The kids were not terribly unhappy about the results (they weren't happy either, but they certainly weren't crying and whining about the session being "unfair"), instead wondering at the power of the vampire countess, appreciating their own ingenuity in getting as far as they did, talking about what they could have done differently...or better.

"Pity we never got to draw from that magic card deck..."

Since it was almost midnight, and we were all a bit loopy (I was three IPAs in...), and because they were being such good sports about what was (effectively) a TPK, I decided to allow the party one more chance. After all, Sal was the one carrying the deck of many things, and he hadn't actually been killed outright (being only reduced to incapacitation)...so I ruled that he could just (barely) work the cards out of his belt pouch and make a draw...one final shot to escape. 

[truth be told, I wanted to see what would happen. Been years since I've seen a deck of many things in play]

Diego elected to draw four. After shuffling many times and making him cut the deck, here's what he pulled (in order):

1. The Jester (red joker): 10,000 x.p. 
2. The Moon (queen of diamonds): 3 wishes (randomly rolled on a d4)
3. The Balance (deuce of spades): change alignment or be permanently destroyed
4. The Knight (jack of hearts): gain a 4th level fighter henchman

An absolutely phenomenal draw! Since I don't use alignment, I ruled he'd have to give up being an assassin and become a straight thief instead (as, in a "normal" game, assassins are required to be "evil" in alignment and the balance would have forced him to change to "good"). He immediately used his first wish to negate the effect ("I wish I hadn't drawn that card!"). He then used his second wish to "completely heal the entire party."

And that's where I called the evening.

; )

Okay, time to get to work. More later.

[EDIT: It should be noted...perhaps...that Diego's intention, with regards to his last wish, was to bring all the dead party members (like Potter) back to life AND heal all their hit points, restoring them to full fighting strength. In effect, this is two wishes, not one, thus blowing the entirety of the wishes granted...something I will inform him of this morning (as I said, I was a bit loopy at the end of the night). Nicely, this should curtail the 3rd wish he and his sister were discussing as they headed off to bed last night: something-something about wishing for all vampires to be destroyed or something...]

"We're Rich! We're Rich!"

"We're rich! We're rich! We're really really rich!"

This was the song being chanted (loudly) for about ten minutes yestereve as my players danced around the table, celebrating a particularly large haul of treasure.

Welcome to my campaign.

I have an hour(ish) before I need to start "working," so allow me to tell you a bit about it. The players (a party of four: elven assassin, half-elven fighter, human cleric, human ranger) are currently exploring my re-vamped (no pun intended) version of Ravenloft. No railroad here: the group may have been shipwrecked on the sandbar just off the coast of Port Angeles (that was fun!) but nothing compelled them to stay in town, nor explore/invade the castle of the local Countess (yes, I've a gender-bended "Strahd"). If they'd wanted to, they could have simply purchased fresh horses and been on their way...perhaps to Sequim and from there onto Kingston (a week's journey by leisurely ride). Heck, they might even make a side trek to "the Dreaming City" (Port Townsend); the elven citadel is only some 30 miles round trip off the main road.

But they decided to stay. The town was sad and grimy, somewhat less than effusive in its welcome (though their ship's crew seemed able to get on fine at the aptly named Wreck Tavern), and rather filthy with orcish persons...a small group of whom were drinking at the tavern when the party entered (the orcs paid their bill and left shortly thereafter, not wanting any trouble with armed elvish types). The drinking started in the early afternoon and went long into the evening...though most of the locals muttered their goodbyes and left before sundown. 

Most, but not all. One young man, incredibly drunk, visibly agitated, and belligerently armed became more boisterous...and obnoxious...as the evening progressed. Seems he was unhappy with the local lord and bore a grudge against her for the murder of his family and the (recent) disappearance of his sister: an adventurer who had sought redress for various wrongs and never returned from the castle. Wild stories were spun by the man ("Istmark")...stories of devil-worship and blood-drinking and curses. The Countess was a demon, or a sorceress, or both, and took her due in both lives and souls and was a plague on the town.

To the adventurers, it sounded like normal orc-hate (the countess had apparently forced tolerance of the pagan tribe, who made ready and loyal servants) and bourgeois whinging. However, when Ismark offered to hire their elven blades for the "typical service" (elves having a reputation for assassination) and at twice the usual rate(!), the party quickly reached an accord.

The party set off for the castle in the morning, reaching it just after 8am.

[ugh...sorry, got distracted. Yesterday, my laptop crashed and...apparently...took a huge chunk of my Word documents with it...everything I've been working on the last 30 days or so. Yesterday, I spent a couple hours trying to find a document that failed to be "auto-recovered" (not sure why), but today I noticed even more missing files, including my open Word document on Ravenloft! What the F is going on?!!]

Skip ahead, skip ahead (only have five minutes or so)...the party has now been exploring the castle for nearly seven hours (it is 2:50pm in the afternoon).  For rather obvious reasons, an adventure like this requires meticulous calculation of encumbrance, movement, and game time (in ten minute turns)...sunset in Port Angeles is 9:17pm, and until that time, the castle is far less dangerous.

And it's been dangerous enough. Orcs wearing scale and armed with halberds are nothing to sneer at, but so far...whether by luck or cunning...the party has been able to avoid any encounter or trap that might have otherwise finished them. They've also managed to do a fair amount of murder...slaying both the castle exchequer (accountant) and a peasant girl named Gertrude found sleeping in the master's bedroom (they assumed she was the countess). 

Having killed many orcs (and not a few zombies), the bloodied robbers rather easily discovered a secret door within the fireplace of the study. Putting out the hearth blaze with water from a nearby bath, the adventurers used magic to reveal the obvious gas trap (avoided by holding their breath) and then their elvish guile to find the secret passage to cobwebbed belfry beyond.

Again, the ranger failed to prove much use outside a fight on open ground, as three man-sized spiders surprised the party, one bearing the human to the ground. Fortunately, he was able to survive multiple poison saves and the elvish butchers made short work of the huge arachnids. 

They then discovered the REAL treasure room of the castle (behind another secret door).

While I have restocked much of the module to bring it up to snuff for a standard AD&D adventure (in terms of both monsters and treasure), I haven't spent much time modifying the treasures that were already placed by the authors. Okay, I did get rid of TWO of the three +3 maces in the castle treasury (in favor of a crystal ball with clairaudience for the Countess to use in keeping tabs on her realm) but the general loot is all pretty much the same. Needless to say, 10s of thousands of gold and silver coins means a BIG payday for the PCs...and was the direct cause for their celebration.

The party spent the better part of an hour emptying their bag of holding and re-filling it with the most precious parts of the treasure. In addition to valuable, leather-bound books, silver cutlery, and elegant silken dresses already looted from prior chambers, the players managed to gather the bulk of the gold, silver, and platinum coinage...as well as all the expected magic items, a coffer of gemstones, and a suit of human-sized plate mail removed from a stairway alcove. Their bag and backpacks are stuffed full, as is the half-elf's large sack...a total haul they estimate to be worth somewhere north of 23K in gold. In "real world" terms, that's close to half a million dollars worth of swag...more than the party has ever gathered at one time.

Thus the cause for the dancing and singing.

Abandoning non-essential equipment, the players are now making ready to vacate the castle entirely. They've decided that, at this point, it's probably a better (and safer) option to quietly leave the town than overstay their welcome. They are still considering whether or not to even attempt collecting Istmark's promised fee...they have their doubts that the girl they slew was indeed the countess (she certainly didn't seem like some sort of demon sorceress...also, she bore no resemblance to the raven-haired portrait of the (presumed) noblewoman discovered earlier). Regardless, now that their band is suddenly wealthy, they are disinclined to explore further, simply for the chance to perform regicide.

They're pulling up stakes...while there's still daylight left. About six-and-a-half hours worth.

; )

Dragons & Hoards

This could probably have been entitled "Fantasy Economics (p.3)" but I thought the subject deserved a catchier title. 'Cause today we're talking dragons.

While it's easy to grasp how treasure might be mined, minted, and circulated in coin form (and thus acquired by adventurers) a more pressing/nagging question for some folks is certainly 'why do monsters hoard treasure?' While ancient tombs guarded by undead Midas-types are self-explanatory (reasons why they're un-looted remain unclear), what's less obvious may be the desire by living folk...the orcs and goblins and giants and whatnot...to acquire chests full of the local human currency. Surely they're not a part of the local economy, right? You don't find hobgoblins drinking at the tavern or shopping for knives at the local farmer's market, do you?

[well, you could, of course. The DragonLance books have occupying soldiers (including hobgoblins and draconians) interacting with the locals, buying food and drink, harassing the barmaids, etc. But injecting this kind of symbiotic relationship with sentient humanoids into one's campaign might make the players feel more like murderers than they already do!]

The mistake here is in assuming that the monsters have no economy of their own. Okay, slimes and golems and owlbears (probably) don't...but the sentient races most certainly have something. These are tool-using societies. They build, they manufacture, they eat food, they wear textiles, they have a language for communicating with each other. And remember what coinage is: an easy, portable medium of exchange for goods and services. Coins are certainly useful and practical for ANY sentient species, both within their own community and with other communities...at least those communities that aren't as xenophobic (and murderous) as your average human town or village.

[remember that bit in Tolkien about some goblins/orcs having alliances with dwarves? Forget "racial animosity" for a moment and consider that two subterranean species are most likely to simply be fighting...when they ARE fighting...over the same prime territory/resources/food supply. Kind of like real life humans]

Dragons, however, are a different matter.

Even mind flayers have societies (though probably not one you want to visit). Dragons, on the other hand, are solitary creatures, only occasionally being found with a mate or clutch of young. And yet dragons are renowned for their treasure hoards...in fact, it is the promised acquisition of vast wealth that can entice foolhardy adventurers to brave certain death in a dragon's lair.

[I mean, except for the grossly stupid 5E version of the game, with its empty-handed dragons]

But WHY do dragons have hoards filled with thousands upon thousands of coins? That is the question. Because it's a fairy tale trope? Because they collect shiny stuff like a magpie? Because they just want to deprive humans of their precious wealth?

The film Flight of Dragons (loosely based on Dickson's The Dragon and the George) suggests dragons covet gold to act as "fireproof bedding" on which to lay. I'm not buying it. Lizards and snakes suffer little discomfort sleeping on hard rock (they prefer it, in fact, as it helps warm their cold blood on a sunny day)...and, anyway, dirt is softer than metal and just as fireproof. Plus, dragon breath is extremely destructive...certainly hot enough to melt gold (in the case of red dragons). Besides, D&D dragons aren't exclusively fire-breathers and is a gold bed really going to help against acid saliva? How about electricity?

Let's start with biology.

The first thing everyone should understand is that dragons need to eat. However, they appear reptilian, which would generally means a slower metabolism. Large snakes (like boa constrictors) can go three to four weeks without eating. Crocodiles can go months (though they generally eat every other week). Komodo dragons eat only one meal per month.

So dragons probably don't need to eat all that often...which is a good thing because, being large creatures, they're going to need to consume large amounts of food when they finally tuck in. A snake will eat 15-20% of its body weight; Komodo dragons can eat as much as 80% of their body weight in a single day. Crocodiles and alligators generally eat as much as their prey supply allows (they'll just keep eating), but they can get by on 5% of their body weight every couple weeks and they're just fine. For me, I'm inclined to go the Komodo route (with long periods of sleeping/dormancy) in order to prevent the countryside from becoming too devastated.

Well, then how much does a dragon weigh? An excellent question, and one without an easy answer. Lots of editions of D&D provide numbers on length for the various dragon types, and some even give out wingspans (I think it's 2E that notes span as approximately the same as length), but there isn't any hard weight measurements...unless you go by 3E's size charts which are, frankly, preposterous. Dragons have to be able to fly, after all, and so weight in relation to wings becomes incredibly important.

Here's a good article on wing loading, applicable to both animals and aircraft. Wing load is expressed as a ratio of mass (in kg) to wing surface area (in square meters), and with regard to birds (who don't benefit from jet propulsion) the practical limit for flight is about 25:1 (some particularly ungainly gliders, like the albatross, might exceed this a bit). That is to say if the mass exceeds 25kg to the square meter of wing surface area, it ain't getting off the ground (hello kiwi!). As such, clocking a "colossal" red dragon at 12+ tons (per the 3E MM)...well, it ain't happening.

I spent the good part of the other day estimating mass based on comparable reptiles and various sizes of wings to arrive at sensible conclusions. In the end, I ended up going with ratios provided by the greatest dragon ever to grace celluloid: Vermithrax Pejorative from the film Dragonslayer. Created by Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins, the idea behind Vermithrax was to make the creature as frightening as possible while still making it fairly realistic and practical. The scale they decided on was a 40' length (which is more or less the scale of a D&D dragon) with a wingspan of 90' which, based on images I calculate to have a rough surface area of 107 meters square plus change. Given a scaled up Komodo for weight (something in the range of about 3 tons...Vermithrax is skinnier/tapered after all, and female to boot) gives us a wing load ratio right at the edge of the 25:1 mark...enough to get Vermithrax off the ground where she can soar on the air currents.

With these figures in mind and using the same proportions (in conjunction with the length measurements provided in the Monster Manual), I came up with the following average weights for various dragons (and, thus, the amount of food they need to consume):

• White: 1,620# (1,296# per month)
• Black: 2,531# (2,025# per month)
• Green: 3,645# (2,916# per month)
• Blue: 4,961# (3,968# per month)
• Red: 6,480# (5,184# per month)

There are better pix of
her wings...I just like this one.

These figures are ROUGH estimates, and don't take into account the vast range that can occur between size and age categories (not to mention dragons of different sexes...in the reptile kingdom males are generally 15-25% larger than females). However, it gives me an idea of what such a creature might be eating based on its natural habitat. 

[for example, a white dragon would do well with large seals or the odd polar bear, whereas a red dragon will need two or three cows, and a black dragon would be constantly eating whatever it can find in the swamp...much like a croc. Blue dragons would find it impossible to survive in a desert climate, unless eating some sort of fantasy critter (bulettes? small purple worms?)...in my own world, I'm more inclined to make them island dwellers and have 'em hunt pilot whale and similar aquatic mammals]

"But, JB...what does this have to do with a dragon's lust for treasure?"

Right...back to the point! This concept of dragons and their hoards are based on fairy tales, going all the way back to Fafnir, if not earlier. But fairy tales are stories and self-contained. They entertain us, perhaps impart a moral lesson, and then they're done...folks live 'happily ever after' or (like Beowulf) they don't. 

But with advanced gaming, we are engaging with the campaign world, living in it and experiencing the thing. The treasure of a dragon (for treasure they must have, it is part of what makes a dragon a dragon and part of the raison d'etre of adventurers braving their lairs) must make some sense. Certainly the size of the hoard being comparable to the dragon's age and might is sensible...it takes time to accumulate wealth, and dragons are long lived. But what about the HOW and WHY? Dragon claws aren't really designed for subtle manipulation, like picking up and counting coins. And while I can understand the odd magic item or piece of jewelry being the remains of would-be slayers that found their way into the dragon's den, surely those dead adventurers weren't carrying hundreds (or thousands) of pounds of coin on them...they went seeking death with EMPTY sacks, not ones already bursting.

It seems clear to me that for a creature that doesn't mine, and doesn't manufacture (or mint) that the best explanation for the treasure hoard is that it is TRIBUTE...tribute paid by lesser beings, bribes (in a way), to prevent the dragon from destroying villages and consuming both citizens and livestock. Of course, dragons don't go on shopping sprees, so the tribute simply accumulates over time (the hoard grows larger and larger) but dragons are an intelligent species...even the stupidest having an intelligence of 8 or 9...so they must have a reason for wanting and accepting such offerings:

1. Being an intelligent species, they understand the value of treasure and the size of their hoard is a matter of prestige and pride. A larger hoard symbolizes more power, thus a "better," stronger, smarter dragon. Dragons don't appear to have a society (though they might, just one invisible to the average human) but hoard comparisons could be used to determine rank and status among their own kind.
2. Size and composition of hoard would certainly be a factor in determining the suitability of a mate. D&D dragons are found in mated pairs, suggesting a form of monogamy or "mating for life." Not only does a dragon's hoard describe a better (more powerful) partner, but the joining of two dragons requires one to leave its hoard behind (they have no way to transport it!), so the dominant of the two must have a hoard of sufficient size for the both of them.
3. Dragons, as stated, need to eat...a lot!...even though (like reptiles) they can experience long periods of dormancy. While human-sized prey is hardly a snack for any size dragon (and a halfling isn't even a mouthful), a party of humans, plus their mounts and pack animals, might prove enough food that they can go without leaving their lair (thus conserving energy) for a longer period of time. A treasure hoard is thus an enticement for "intelligent" (i.e. foolhardy) prey to come to them. 
4. Finally, D&D dragons are portrayed as "cowardly" because of the rules for subduing dragons; however, this just shows their intelligence and sense of self-preservation. While dragons are loathe to relinquish any of their treasure (because a diminished hoard size is detrimental to the motives already listed) bribing powerful individuals is better than dying. Should a party prove too strong for an individual dragon, the hoard can be used to "buy off" the invaders. Being an intelligent being with a lifespan measured in centuries, dragons can afford to take the "long view;" better for a young dragon to seek greener pastures, establishing a new lair and beginning (again) the acquisition of tribute. Thus, the hoard also represents a bit of a "safety net," though some particularly old and curmudgeonly dragons might find it worth dying for ('I ain't moving!').

And so we have yet another reason that monsters will have a desire to accumulate treasure: living in wilderness areas inhabited by dragons, such creatures (goblins, trolls, ogres, etc.) will need all the money they can mine, borrow, or steal just to keep the dragons from devouring their villages. Human towns...what with their curtain walls and towers, armored knights and wizards...are too dangerous (or too much of a pain in the ass) for the average dragon to bother with. But out in the wilderness...in the swamps or mountains or jungle or arctic regions...a dragon can get by, hunting large game and reaping the rewards of subservient, fearful lesser beings who also make their homes far from the murderous humans and their allies.

Makes perfect sense to me.

; )

Fantasy Economics (p. 2)

Apologies for the lack of writing the last few days...was a busy week, PLUS had a sick kid at home (sick wife, too, which didn't make things any easier). Thankfully everyone is on the mend and life is settling down.

Back to fantasy economics.

In my last post on this subject, I made note of the fact that Washington State (the basis for my campaign world) contains an estimated 519 metric tons of gold. So, just how many coins are we talking about? Well, one metric ton weighs a smidge less than 2,205# which (more importantly) converts to 32,150.7 troy ounces. As there are 400 troy ounces to the gold ingot (bar), that means about 80 ingots per metric ton...a bit more than 41,715 bars in total if ALL the gold in Washington was mined and smelted.

Now how many coins per bar requires one to figure out how many coins can be struck from a single ingot. However, we've already established that in DragonLance (well, in DL2) each ingot of gold found in Pax Tharkas is worth 1,000 gold pieces, giving us 36 coins per pound of metal (about twice the thickness of the old Spanish gold doubloon, a coin with a diameter of about 1.5"). So, if using DL has a base (which is fine...for now) one can say there's enough gold in "fantasy Washington" to cast 41.7 million gold pieces.

Except, of course, it doesn't. Gold mining and smelting isn't solely concerned with the minting of coins. Gold is used for everything from decoration (gold leaf, gold plating) to...well, decoration (gold jewelry). But it's still mainly used for currency (for a medium of exchange) while wearing gold is a sign/show of wealth and ostentation. It's saying, I can afford to decorate my home with money.

The original D&D game only had three types of coin as "standard:" the gold piece, the silver piece, and the copper piece. Pretty solid reasoning considering all of these were used as currency at various points in history (the "gold standard" only really ended in the 20th century). Washington State has plenty of silver and copper in its mountains: roughly 4,040 metric tons of silver and 13,200 metric tons of copper. That's plenty of precious metal for coinage of lesser value. Proportionately these aren't quite the 1/20th and 1/200th you might assume would be laying around (given the relative value of gold to silver to copper in the AD&D game)...however, "value" can be based on a LOT of factors, besides just weight of metal. Ease of acquisition for example (how hard is it to mine silver or copper compared to gold), or the amount of coinage already in circulation. Just because there's only 7-8 times the amount of silver as gold, doesn't mean you can pick up a gold piece with 8 silver coins. Silver does tarnish after all.

Anyway: if we assign the same number of troy ounces to a silver/gold coin as for a piece of gold (which we needn't do, especially given the density of gold in comparison, and the necessity of smaller, more portable coinage for lesser "everyday" transactions)...*ahem* IF we were to assign the same figures (400 troy ounces to a bar of metal, each ingot being worth 1,000 coins of its type), then we could come up with finite figures for the amount of monetary treasure that can be pulled from the campaign world:

• 41.7 million gold pieces
• 324.7 million silver pieces (16.2 million g.p.)
• 1.061 billion copper pieces (5.3 million g.p.)

For a total value far, far north of 63 million gold pieces. That's a lot of experience points to be acquired...a campaign that features 20 characters could each end up taking home 3M (or more). Even cut down to one-tenth (call it "available adventuring treasure") we've got something in the 6.3M range...for coinage alone...which is enough to get eight well-played (surviving) PCs nearly 800K in x.p. apiece, leveling even paladins and rangers up to 10th level.

Pretty respectable gains for a finite money supply? Thing is, it's really only the tip of the iceberg. While valuable metals stripped from the Earth may have an absolute limit, money in circulation circulates. Here...let me paint folks a picture:

PCs spend their starting wealth to acquire supplies from the local merchant. Merchant puts together a caravan of goods for a trip "over yonder" (including a supply of coins for expenses/purchases). Caravan is waylaid by bandits (orcs, humans, whoever). PCs raid bandit hideout and acquire treasure (including coins from merchant). Back in town, PCs spend coinage to acquire henchmen, armor upgrades, fresh supplies, etc. Coins make their way from various vendors into collection box at local church. Apostate devil-worshipper steals temple treasury to help finance secret cult. PCs break into cultists' lair, kill cultists, take treasure. More wealth is spent or paid in taxes to the local ruler. Ruler distributes largesse, pays hefty salaries to staff, including his chief vizier. Vizier's daughter goes missing in the town's sewers/catacombs whatever...vizier hires PCs to bring her back alive using the same treasure they've already recovered twice already. PCs spend money for local spell-caster to remove curse of lycanthropy inflicted on party member by the wererats in the sewer, Spell-caster pays off debt to local merchant owed for supplies and spell components. Merchant puts together a heavily armed caravan to make it to next town (no chances this time) and hires PC adventurers as escorts using the same money as salary (though much of it has also been used to pay for horses, tack, feed, new wagons, etc.). 

The same hundreds or thousands of coins can easily end up being the same "loot" over and over again, allowing players to level far beyond what one might assume possible given the supply of coin currency in the region. No, money may not grow on trees...but there are things that do (I'm sure farmers in eastern Washington looks at the fruit in their orchards and see dollar signs), things that money acquires. And, as I've written before, adventurers have costs, and the proper running of a campaign requires enough world building to ensure enough costs to eat into all that treasure the PCs find along the way. It's the steady diet of want and need that drives a campaign onwards.

Okay, more later. 

Fantasy Economics (p.1)

Let's get right to it:

36. Tharkadan Treasure Vault

Having detected the secret door, locating the concealed latch is a simple matter. It releases with a soft click, and a section of the stone wall swings silently inward. The room beyond is fairly large, and nearly filled with yellow, brick-like objects that glitter through a layer of dust.

Stacked 25 high, 25,000 gold ingots line the walls around the room. Each contains the equivalent of 1,000 gp of the metal. Gold was valued highly by the dwarves of Pax Tharkas in the Age of Dreams, but it is of little use to the current adventurers.

[from DL2: Dragons of Flame by Douglas Niles]

25,000 gold ingots, each containing 1,000 gold pieces worth of gold. A total value of 25 million gold pieces, and absolutely worthless (by DL campaign rules) in the Seeker Lands.

NOT, however, in the case of lands conquered by the dragon armies. From Appendix I ("Rates of Exchange") in DL1: Dragons of Despair:

In the lands conquered by the Dragonlords, no coinage is used; the gpw [gold piece weight] of the metal is used for exchanges. Steel is the basic metal, but gold does have some value...  

1 gpw of steel equals 10 gp. 

[emphasis added]

So...25 million gold coins are worth 2.5 million steel pieces (and thus 2.5 million experience points) in the lands occupied by the dragon highlords. Places like, for example, Tarsis on the southern continent (encountered in DL5 I believe)...or even Haven and Solace after the events of DL2.

Of course, that's not how the hoard in the secret treasure vault is supposed to be handled. Presumably, the players are supposed to discover a pile of gold bars, stand in awe and wistful sadness for a few moments, and then leave to get on with the "glorious adventure story," rescuing an elven princess from durance vile.

Such trash.

In my estimation, elven princesses are much more conducive to rescue by wealthy, well-dressed heroes who can afford a bevy of servants to wait on her every need and provide fine meals prepared by expensive chefs. You know...the kind of hero that lives in a palace? Does the princess really want to be returned to her soon-to-be-ashes forest home, just to become a hunted refugee with the rest of her people?

[yes, yes, I've read DragonLance...I realize Laurana is made of sterner stuff than that, going on to be the Golden General and all. I'm just saying: this is what the adventure is telling you to do. The novels are a different deal]

Anyway, since my campaign world is a bit more...mm..."pragmatic," these gold bars mean a bit more to me. Time to do some math.

How much does a "gold ingot" weigh? Well, it doesn't say, so one might simplistically figure that having "1,000 gp of [gold]" means it weighs 100 pounds, since in AD&D 10 "coins" of weight is the equivalent of 1 pound. 

However, while I know gold is heavy and all, 100# gold bricks do seem rather excessive. Per Ye Old Internets, a standard gold bar (as used by central banks and traded by bullion dealers) contains 400 troy ounces of gold. A "troy ounce" is a bit heavier than a standard ounce, there being only 14.58 to the imperial pound. Thus, a standard gold bar weighs about 27.5 pounds...heavy, but each freed slave from Pax Tharkas could probably shlep one or two on their way out the door to freedom. 

"But wait...if the bar only weighs 27.5 pounds, than how can each have a value of 1,000 gold pieces?" Simple enough: because a gold "piece" (aka "coin") need not be composed of 0.1# of pure metal. Let me give a few examples:

• The gold sovereign (worth 1 British Pound) has 7.32 grams of fine gold...less than one-quarter of a troy ounce. A standard gold brick thus has enough gold to make almost 1,700 gold sovereigns.
• The Spanish gold doubloon ("double shield", worth 4 Spanish dollars or 32 reales at the time) contained .218 troy ounces (about 6.8g) of fine gold. One gold brick could thus make more than 1,800 such coins.
• The American gold eagle (largest size) has 31.1g of pure gold...1 troy ounce. Only 400 such coins could be minted from a standard bar, although the half ounce size could (obviously) increase that number to 800 coins; that's pretty close to 1,000, no?

"But, JB! We are talking about D&D here! The rules are explicit that 10 gold coins weigh one pound! Clearly one gold coin (value: 1 g.p.) must weigh 1/10th of a pound (1.46 troy ounces) with a pretty close amount of fine gold being the base of its substance. These bars MUST weigh 100# each."

Okay, first off let's all remember that the AD&D encumbrance system is an abstract game system, measuring not only weight but bulk. Why does a folded robe have an encumbrance value of 50 while a worn robe has a value of 25? Did the thing lose 2.5# of lint when you shook it out from being at the bottom of your armoire? No.

Presumably, this is why a long sword...a weapon whose average weight is 2.5 to 4 pounds...is given an encumbrance value of 60 to 100 (the latter being the given value of a bastard sword which - surprise! - is usually just another name for a long sword). This doesn't mean the weapon weighs 2.5 times the weight of a real world equivalent, but the thing has bulk...and a cumbersome scabbard sloshing around as well!

This same abstraction can apply to the gold coins in one's treasure vault. Coins may be in lined boxes, neatly tied bags, sturdy wooden coffers...whatever!...and take organization and attention in one's backpack to make sure they're not getting loose and lost in various nooks and crannies. 1,000 g.p. may require 1000 coins of encumbrance...the equivalent of 100# of weight...but the actual weight of such a sum might be considerably less. 

SO...let's just call these ingots standard, shall we? 400 troy ounces a piece, which (by the way) we can then use to work out the math of just how much gold is in the Krynn-ish gold piece...about 12.4g of fine gold...making the DL gold piece about twice the size of a doubloon, giving you something like 36 coins to the (actual) pound.

Good to know. Now back to that vault: 25,000 ingots is a LOT of gold. At 27.5 pounds per, that works out to 687,500 pounds of gold...nearly 312 metric tons. 

Now here's something you might not know...there are a lot of gold mines in Washington State. A lot. Per U.S. Geological surveys, there's about 519 metric tons of gold in the Evergreen state. That's quite a bit...and many of those mines are in Kittitas County, which happens to be the location for the ancient ruined elven fortress that is Pax Tharkas. 

Thing is...many of them aren't. Not 60%. That 519 figure is for the entire state...and Washington has an area of 71,300 square miles. Kittitas is only 2,333 square miles in area...barely more than 3%.  Now, as said, Kittitas has quite a bit of gold...historically, there are records of nearly 50,000 ounces being pulled out of the Swauk district alone. 

50,000 ounces would make 125 gold bars.

So, methinks that this veritable Fort Knox fantasy vault is probably a wee tad bit overstocked, especially for my campaign world. Probably by a factor of 2,000. Especially considering it's only really guarded by a single wraith, a giant slug, and a few dozen zombies. Sheesh.

Of course, we don't know how long the gold mines at and around Pax Tharkas were in operation. My Pax Tharkas is a ruined, elven fortress (elves are still an "elder race" in my world, having a cultural history stretching back 10,000 years despite only human length lifespans). The ancient Egyptians are thought to have mined 6.7 million ounces (just shy of 209 metric tons) of gold from the Eastern Desert over their many-century history, with 120 ancient mining sites known. Although the desert dwarfs Washington State with its 86 thousand square mile expanse, Kittitas County still has more than double that number of mining sites.

[that's not to say they're on the same scale, or have the same ratio of gold to ore, or same quality of deposit or...well, you get the point]

Unfortunately, I could not find a county-by-county breakdown of mining information to find the proportion of gold that might be natural to the area...the closest I could get was this map showing density of placer mines in the state. Using the average numbers for yellow (30) and blue (5.5) squares, I can see that there's some 440 mines in the whole of the state...and 136.5 of them right in the region where I wanted to place Pax Tharkas (in the mountains just north of Lake Cle Elum). Proportioned out based on averages, I might thus say that the area could account for 161 metric tons of the Washington's 519 Mg gold total, which would amount to nearly 12,910 ingots worth of gold...which assumes every scrap of gold in the region had been dug up, smelted down into bars, and then stored in the dusty vaults beneath the crumbling fortress. Not likely.

How about 2%? That would be 258 bars. Still an incredible amount of wealth...more than seven thousand pounds (3.5 tons) of pure gold, a quarter million gold piece value to the adventurers that find it. Of course, getting out more than a handful of bars will necessitate doing away with the stronghold's patriarch and his pet dragon(s). And there's always the possibility some ancient curse has been laid on the gold by long-dead sorcerer elves...

Now, I'm sure there are Dungeon Masters reading this who quail at the thought of releasing so much wealth into their fantasy economy in one shot. Why? What's 258,000 g.p. split six or seven ways? 40K apiece? That spends pretty fast, assuming you're in a city large enough to exchange gold bars for cash. My world has three such major cities (pop. 15K+): Seattle (natch), Spokane (seat of the Red Empire), and Tacoma. The smallest (the city-state of Tacoma) has a population of 18,000 and a median per capita income of 1,447 g.p. annually. Median income is not, of course, the same as average income...but regardless an extra 14 g.p. per person added to the economy doesn't suddenly drive up the stock price of normal goods and services. It's not even a month's income!

[for the sake of the curious: I've got Seattle's population pencilled in at 24,000 at the moment, and Spokane at 21,000. Annual median per capita income for these rival city-states is 1,955 g.p. and 1,246 g.p. respectively]

All right, that's enough fantasy economics for now. Later, gators!