Just Another Tomb

Well, that took longer than anticipated.

Catching up on my blog reading Sunday, I happened across this post from Joseph Manola about a certain dungeon design challenge put forth by Patrick over at False Machine (whose site I don't peruse as often as I probably should). While I like a good blog-tastic challenge as much as the next dude, after reading the criteria I figured this particular one wasn't really for me: not only was I hopelessly late to the party (it was supposed to be completed a couple weeks before), and there's nothing really "art-punk" about me. Hell, I had to find a definition and visit a bunch of other web sites just to figure out what that term is supposed to mean!  SO...soft pass. 

Then my players got TPK'd fighting kobolds and I needed a new adventure.

Since Dyson's map was still staring me in the face from these open tabs on my laptop, I kept looking at the thing, analyzing the layout, seeing if it would suggest a scenario. And, of course (eventually) one did...and as the map was already drawn (and map-making is really my achilles heel when it comes to this D&D stuff) I figured I might as well use it. So I ended up kind of doing the challenge after all.

No, it's not artistic or "punk;" I am a total hack of a writer with nary an original bone in my body. Most of my adventure ideas come from books or movies I've seen over the years (I seldom draw on adventure modules, preferring instead the easier, lazier route of just running pre-made adventures). In this particular case, I drew on an old favorite of mine: the 1999 action film The Mummy. It pretty much has all the ingredients for a D&D adventure...monsters, magic, treasure, tombs, etc. 

The problem was: the map. Man, I puzzled over that thing for nearly two days before figuring out what various rooms were and how they interacted and whatnot. That was tough. That damn river. That giant chamber with the open pits. All that jazz. Plus it had to work for a small party of 1st level adventurers.

Anyhoo, I got it done, and we started the adventure last night. Although the party is in a bit of a pickle at the moment (the cleric failed at his attempt to turn the skeletons...jeez), I wouldn't say they're doing terrible. I mean, no one's died yet...

; )

This morning, I wrote up my notes in a bullet-point format in case anyone's interested in seeing how lame my adventures are (usually I just use a handful of notes on a spreadsheet). You can download the PDF from MediaFire here (do people still use MediaFire?) or you can simply read the text (posted below the map). I call it "The Tomb of Bendan Fazier." Cheers!

[oh, forgot to mention: this is for 1st edition AD&D; suitable for 5-7 1st level characters]

You know how long it took me to figure out
how to add numbers to this thing?
I am soooo lame!

THE TOMB OF BENDAN FAZIER 

The arid, windswept hills east of Akima are known as “the Tomblands” for it is said that the ancients buried many kings, wizards, and high priests among the dry rocks before the Great Reckoning. True or not, searching more than 600 square miles of wasteland for hidden sepulchers is a fools’ errand…and finding one not yet despoiled by treasure hunters is an even slimmer hope. 

But Tully the Dwarf knows one. 

1. Hall of Guardians

• The outer door was spiked shut (by Tully) from his last foray. Putrefying bodies of three companions (no treasure, gear hacked to pieces) lie scattered about the chamber. 
• 12 skeletons (HPs 4, MM p.87) programmed to kill any who enter the chamber; they will not pursue beyond this room. If turned they retreat to the river and are swept away. 
• A bricked up, secondary tunnel has been collapsed at its base by a curious troll (#7). 

2. Desecrated Chamber 

• The door to this room has been smashed open (by the troll at #7). 
• Wet, muddy footprints (identifiable by a ranger) gives evidence of the culprit. 
• Some scattered coins (D6 each of copper, silver, and electrum) indicate the place was looted. 

3. Alcove 

• Careful examination of this dark and dingy alcove finds an ancient bronze wheel set into the wall. 
• A bend bars roll is needed to move the wheel; multiple characters can combine their percentages for a better chance of turning it. On a roll of 00 (99+ with two individuals working, 98+ with three, etc.) the mechanism breaks. 
• Turning the wheel: a loud grinding, stone-on-stone sound echoes in the distance as the mechanism causes the false wall at #5 to lower into the floor. 

4. Hall of Glory 

• Doors to this chamber are stone and difficult to move (normal open doors roll). 
• Each column holds a torch sconce with an ancient torch that may be lit. 
• The eastern wall depicts a fantastic painting showing the reign of Bendan Fazier over an agricultural people, using his wand to conjure monsters and his staff to smite skulls. He doesn’t appear to have been a nice person. 

5. Rod Room 

• Three rods of black metal lay in a heap on the floor; each is about 18’ long and weigh 70#. 
• The southern wall is of different stone than the rest of the chamber; it can be lowered with the mechanism at #3. 

6. Bridge 

• The bridge of ancient wood and rusted metal is rickety but only collapses if more than 150# tries to cross at once. 
• Slots allowing for the insertion of three rods (from #5) reinforce the bridge so that there is no chance of collapse. 
• A rusted iron ladder will disintegrate, dropping any would be climber unceremoniously to the beach below (1d4 damage). The subterranean river is exceptionally cold; its current is sluggish. 

7. Troll Den 

• A river scrag (HPs 27, MM2 p.121) makes its lair here; it wears a silver necklace (120gp) as a bracelet. 
• There is only a 20% chance the creature is here, but it will return D4 turns after a party starts poking around its possessions. Any time the party encounters the river, there is a 25% chance the troll is fishing (submerged) nearby; it will be drawn to their light and sound (surprising 4 in 6). 
• The scrag’s collection of treasure includes five ceramic jars containing 400cp each (each weighs 50#), another containing 250ep (30# weight), an iron strong box (minimal rust) with 500sp, and a dagger +1 used to pick its teeth. 

8. Antechamber of the Sun 

• Massive doors of polished metal greatly reflect light sources, illuminating the chamber. 
• A sun-shaped depression over the obvious key hole allows the door to be opened with the sun key (#9). 
• Attempts to pick the lock sets off an ancient fire trap (1d4+12 damage, save for half). 

9. Hall of Keys 

• Each of the three statues in this chamber portrays a young woman standing at attention with an elaborate headdress (snake, dog, and owl); around each statues neck hangs a metal symbol attached to a rotting leather thong (sun, moon, and star)…keys to areas #8, #11, and #12, respectively. 
• These are caryatid columns (HPs 22, FF p.18); each will animate ONLY if the key is removed from around its neck. Attacks will be focused on the person who holds the necklace. 
• The tapestry at the chamber’s end may be illuminated by a torch placed in the empty sconce near it; it depicts the funerary ceremonies of Bendan Fazier, including the tomb’s construction, his mummification, and the sacrifice of slave workers in the subterranean river that flows past this very chamber. 

10. Hall of the Demesne 

• A globe of continual light (L12) illuminates this magnificent chamber. 
• The floor is an incredible mosaic depicting the realm once controlled by Bendan Frazier: a region north of Akima, including the Akima river and its main tributaries. The image is punctuated by hundreds of sparkling precious stones, cut and set within the image (350 gems worth 10gp each; diligent work can pry up five stones per turn of effort). 
• The map is oriented with “north” towards the eastern wall; the rivers tributaries are made to appear to be flowing out of the three open pits along that wall. 

11. Room of Preparation 

• This level is reached by dropping down one of the 20’ deep open pits in #10. All the mummification equipment was destroyed long ago, its pieces scattered on the floor amongst the shredded crumbling pages of Bendan Fazier’s tomes and scrolls. Empty torch sconces line the walls. 
• The locked metal door in the southwest can be opened with the moon key (#9); it radiates both magic and evil. Anyone inserting the key into the lock must save versus spells to resist the impulse to immediately attack the other party members (attempts to pick the lock have the same effect). The madness leaves the character after one turn. 
• Engraved in the door is a three-line verse in an ancient, dead language. Translated it reads: My Tomb Lies Beyond/Those Who Would Desecrate It/My Doom Will Suffer. 

12. Tomb of Bendan Fazier 

• The chamber contains a rotting wooden chest containing 800gp (chest will break if moved), a metal box (with 100pp), and a large stone sarcophagus. The last may only be opened by using the star key (#9); a combined strength of 24 is needed to move the lid which is carved with another three-line verse: My Spirit Has Flown/Yet My Flesh Remains And Will/Rain Vengeance On Thee. 
• A mummy lies within the sarcophagus. A scarab of protection fastens his funeral garment; one hand clutches his wand of conjuration (8 charges), the other his staff of striking (4 charges). His death mask is a mix of gold and precious jade with cut emerald eyes (3500gp value). Removing the mask reveals a horrible rotting face with wriggling green worms crawling in and out of its orifices. The remains, now a Son of Kyuss (HPs 19, FF p. 83) animates and attacks; all characters in the chamber must immediately save against magic or flee in terror. 
• In the northeast corner, an ancient bronze ladder leads to a trapdoor in the ceiling which may be pushed open to allow access to #10. The trapdoor can only be opened from below. 

NOTE: Tully the Dwarf (a second level thief) is a middle-aged dwarf of hardy constitution (15 hit points!) and sour disposition. He brooks no nonsense, but is willing to cut PCs in for an even share of the treasure (he has no choice as he can’t face the tomb dangers alone). He has leather armor, a broadsword and dagger, a stout pack mule, torches, rope, and a couple flasks of oil. His main concern is finding a cleric to take care of the damn skeletons! He has a weathered map to the tomb that he keeps on him (under his armor) at all times.

A Note of Positivity

This morning I was feeling good, then I started feeling down, then I realized how blessed my life truly was, then I heard some news that made me depressed, then I read an old email from someone whose life I'd touched with my Not So Humble blogging, then I started thinking about how damn angry and petty I've been lately and I started feeling like a shit-heel.

So I decided to write something.

Blogger has been a great boon to my life. Not only has it provided me with a creative outlet...something that I personally need desperately, and (logistically) have a hard time getting...but it has allowed me to become part of a community of folks who share my interests and give me the space to communicate. Not to mention I get plenty of great ideas and good reads from them.

Of course, there's the whole book/game writing thing that's come from writing this blog. I can't even begin to measure the amount of joy I've received from publishing my own work. It's right up there with the joy and pride I take in my own children (the main reason I'm not doing more writing is that I prioritize my kids over myself...usually). Anyway, blogger is responsible for that opportunity as well.

Long time readers know I've often used my blog to blather on about my politics, theology, socialist values, and New Age-y crazy stuff. Some of those probably wonder why I haven't mentioned anything in the last 12 months regarding the state of my country, our last general election, our sitting president, or the direction my government has taken in 2017. There's good reason for that: I decided a while back that I didn't want to discuss (i.e. "vent") any of it, when it wouldn't accomplish anything constructive. Regarding my feelings (and who cares about those?): suffice is to say that I am deeply, deeply disappointed...and mainly disappointed with my fellow Americans. 

But no one wants to hear that. It's bad enough that a man so blessed in so many aspects of his life (i.e. me) should take the time to badmouth game designers he's never met.

So, I don't blog about that and will continue to attempt to not blog about that, unless I can find a way to be constructive. However, I wonder if I should extend the same policy to blogging regarding my game and design thoughts. The "if you can't say anything nice, say nothing at all" policy. Certainly, I have done a bit of that already: there are some designers, publishers, and bloggers who are noticeably absent from the looooong list of folks I read and write about. For these people, I have taken the stance that (assuming there is "no such thing as Bad Publicity") I will not be giving them ANY publicity, of any sort. Been doing that for years.

[yes, that means that if I DO write about you...even in a "negative" way...that you are NOT on my personal black list. Take that as something!]

But maybe I should extend that policy to all my criticism. Cut the bile out of the blog. Only talk about the positive that I see -- only ADD TO the existing designs out there, not ridicule them, or tear them down, or point out "flaws" that only I perceive. 

Or maybe I should just do something "fluffy." I was reading Autokratik's blog yesterday, discussing his original reasons for starting this #RPGaDAY thing that some people do in August (I've never participated in it) and "sappy" as it might be (his word), I find that I really like the overall vibe of the thing. I'm not sure there ever was a "negative undercurrent" within the hobby itself -- perhaps I didn't frequent the correct forums -- but it's not a bad idea to shine a light on some of our positive thoughts/feelings on the hobby. Participating in such a project might be a way to try out "no negativity" for a month.

Just to see how much I can stomach.

Of course, I'm already three days behind (it's the 3rd of August as I write this). I suppose I could back date my other entries in blogger to give the illusion that I'm time traveling back to the start of the contest. Yeah, I think I'll give it a shot...it couldn't be any worse than the April A-Z Challenge. And I'll try to be as positive as possible.

Really. I promise!

: )

Not sure why this didn't show up in color.

A-Z Reflection Post

I finished the A-Z April "blog challenge" last month, and I'm offering these thoughts for those for the folks who run the thing (per their request):

Probably won't do it again.

This was my second go-around with the challenge (the last time was in 2011...five years ago!), and I wanted to see if I could "still do it." As before, I was able to complete the thing. The strategy for me is simple: think of a theme, and figure out your 26 theme-related alpha topics prior to starting. After that, it's all about grinding out the posts.

"Grind." That's the best way to describe it. My posts were, for the most part, lackluster and uninspired...forced, really. Most of the times when I blog, there's something I'm itching to write about...stuff that keeps me up at 3am (not that I sleep anyway). I didn't feel that way this time. Perhaps I chose a poor topic...certainly I chose an "easy" one for a gaming blog. Maybe it's just the "other stuff" in my life was getting me down. I don't know.

What I do know is that the A-Z challenge felt like an endurance race this year, and I'm not really built for endurance...at least not when it comes to creativity. At least not this year. I did it, mainly 'cause I dislike being categorized as a "quitter" (I fully intend to come back to all my unfinished projects at SOME point in my life) and because it didn't take a ton of effort. If the challenge had been "write 1000 words on every daily topic" ...well, that might have broken my resolve.

As it was, I "phoned it in" and it still felt like a grind.

SO...probably won't be participating in the future. I've had two shots at it, finished both, and now will return to my usual bloggishness. Maybe my tune will change in the future...check in with me in another five years.

Didn't know where else to put this.

Comes Chaos

OKAY. I spent a bit of time at lunch today getting a little stinky-drinky and writing more bad JuJu about Paraguayan ignorance (and drawing parallels with certain presidential campaigns in the home country)...but I'm almost 100% certain that no one wants to read more of that kind of nonsense.

So let's talk about B/X-related nonsense. And, no, not superheroes.

Waaaaaay back in January, I mentioned I was going to get in on this whole B/X Campaign Challenge thing, set up by Mr. James V. West. I also said I figured I could knock-out a 64 page supplement in about 64 days, giving myself (approximately) till the end of March to get it done. Seeing as how it's been seven days since the last time I worked on the thing (just checked...March 4th) people may be wondering how is the project progressing?

Pretty good. I'm at 53 pages (formatted)...a bit more than 36,000 words without counting headers and page numbers. Since I'm aiming for about 58-60 (to make room for illustrations, a cover leaf, and table of contents), I'm pretty close to completion.

It's always that last bit that's the bitch, ain't it?

Actually, that's NOT why I've stalled. For a "campaign book," I started to find there was surprisingly little campaign to the thing...mainly a collection of rules and notes about how to inject a little crazy into one's standard B/X game. I started to think maybe I needed a bit more setting, a bit less system. And then, of course, I got distracted with other brainstorms...

But I'm digressing. As I wrote back on the 22nd (when I was first considering the challenge), the idea I had was an incredibly derivative one, and it still is....specifically, I am adapting the old Warhammer Realm of Chaos books (Slaves to Darkness and The Lost and the Damned) to the B/X game system, an idea that I once thought was pretty ridiculous. Also, not a terribly original idea, considering folks like Steven A. Cook have already done similar work (his Hordes of Chaos is a nice little "monster manual" designed for use with Labyrinth Lord).

But whatever...it's only a 64 page book. It's specifically designed for use with B/X (which everyone loves and now has access to, thanks to the release of the PDFs). It files all the serial numbers off anything that might be considered IP by other game companies. And it's written for a B/X system...for a game of exploration and treasure hunting...not a war-game.

And it does have a setting...one that could easily be expanded with additional books, if I was so inclined.

Slaves to Darkness.
So good, I own two copies.

The fact of the matter is Slaves to Darkness and The Lost and the Damned are damn masterworks. They have terrible, disgusting, magnificent, tragic themes. They are well-designed (for their time and their purpose) and are filled with beautiful, terrible, horrible, awesome artwork. They are classics that most buffs of dark fantasy (and dark fantasy games) should have on their shelves. I own physical copies of both, having paid an exorbitant price for one after many years of searching.

They are also fairly unplayable as they are. While the fluff from the books have penetrated the Warhammer universe for nearly three decades (Slaves was written in 1988 and last time I checked a 40K Chaos Codex they were STILL recycling quotes from its most excellent pages), the Warhammer game long ago dropped the systems found within their pages, keeping only the themes. Mordheim's chaos war band was a pretty poor substitute for a champion-led retinue of miscreants and mutants.

SO, because I love these books...their themes (which simply emphasize the dark spaces in the human heart to terrible extremes) and their mutants and their monsters and their madness...because I do love them, I've adapted them to a system that I love (B/X) so that they can see play at the table. They deserve to see play at the table.

And I find the setting I've designed (that I'm thinking I might want to detail in greater depth) so intriguing that I'd really like to run a campaign set in it, despite having voiced (only a few months ago) a longing to try a Holmes-style campaign. B/X...sucking me back in! Seducing me to the darkest of dark sides!

Anyhoo, it's almost done and my intention is to do my own artwork for it (not sure how that's going to go...) and sell it for a pittance in electronic form. That's my intention; we'll see what happens. But regardless, I've got to finish the writing first.

Hopefully by the end of the month.
; )

Money for WotC

Much as it pains me to admit it, I have just now...this very minute...transferred some of my hard earned ducats to Wizards of the Coast via DriveThruRPG. Yes, as a publisher of DTRPG, I realize that not ALL of the money will go to WotC, but even funding them in a minor fashion raises a bit of bile to mouth.

Still, it can't be helped. I needed a copy of the B/X Expert Rulebook for reference and my copy is 7000 miles northwest of my current location. $4.99 was a small (if irritating) price to pay to add the PDF to my hard drive, considering that I honestly have zero idea when will be the next time I make it back to Seattle. Hopefully before July, but I won't hold my breath.

Should have brought my copy to Paraguay.

Some might (perhaps) be wondering what was so immediately necessary that I needed to get my hands on a copy of the book. What could be so all-fired important? Welllll...as I mentioned last Friday, there is this little B/X Campaign Challenge thing going on and, well, I've got an idea for an offering. No, it's not a great idea, but it's an idea, and I'm in the mood to nurture such a project at the moment. Tuesdays are still poor days for me to actually do any writing, but at least I can download the reference materials I need (I already have my copy of Moldvay with me...I refuse to travel anywhere without it...), and start working up an outline.

But really, really, truly...I don't plan on spending too much time on this project. "6.4 months" seems waaaay too long to devote to something that's only supposed to be 64 pages long (assuming it includes random tables and empty spaces for illustrations). 64 days is probably a better timeline for me...I mean, I should be able to write more than a page a day. That would give me a hard deadline of March 29th, or March 30th if I start my count tomorrow. Hell, if I throw out Leap Year, I suppose I could just give myself till the end of March...that seems easy enough.

Sure. End of March.

Updates will follow, of course. Hmmm...maybe I'll do my own illustrations for a change. That should be...well, terrible. But, hey: New Year, new challenges, right?

Sure...why not?
; )

Adaptation

Welp, it's January 22nd, 2016. Probably about time I got back to writing.

Apologies for the delay. Travel, holidays, birthdays (my son's), and playoff football-induced dementia have all contributed to my utter slack in blogging...hell, writing in general. I've been "taking it easy" (i.e. "being lazy") and I'm a bit out of practice with simply getting up and putting words down.

Probably something that requires a new resolution for a new year.

Anyhoo...there's lots of ideas that have been floating in my head the last couple-few weeks, enough that I even bothered to write some down in my notebook (so as not to forget them while awaiting the return of my discipline). More Star Wars thoughts (of course)...the family made it back to theater for the third time, though I'm pretty sure that's the last time I'l need to see the film again (I've got everything I need to from a second viewing in English). Blood Bowl, too, as relates to the NFL play-offs (I was very angry with the Seahawks' last game of the season, though not for reasons one might expect). Also, thoughts on the 15th century, World War I, Flash Gordon, and Ars Magica. And, of course, I still need to get around to reviewing Alexis Smolensk's The Dungeon's Front Door (though truth-be-told, I'm probably going to need to give it a second read to remember my thoughts from November). Then of course there's a return to other serial topics that I've started and neglected...

Well, for a change I'm going to (somewhat) move away from my usual arbitrary "thoughts o the day" and instead look at that thing so many of my readers love and hold dear: B/X. A few weeks ago, James V. West (comic book artist and game designer...his 2002 freebie, The Pool, is credited with inspiring many of the indie games that came out of the early years of The Forge) suggested a personal challenge of designing a 64-page book that could "fit" with B/X...a campaign setting, bestiary, etc...something that would feel right at home with the 64 page box sets of the 70s and 80s. And because he wanted to make sure that he didn't hem-and-haw over the thing he set himself a hard due date of July 12th...a timeline of 6.4 months, beginning with a January 1st start date.

Others have since picked up Mr. West's gauntlet (Brian Scott, Reese Laundry, and James Mishler to name a few) and there's even a G+ community set-up for the thing. All in all, I think it's a pretty cool idea...there was a time (a couple-three years back) when I thought the main way *I* was going to end up making any money in the gaming hobby was by writing "campaign setting" books...that's all I was doing back in the days of Land of Ice, Land of Ash, Goblin Wars, etc. Nowadays, I'm not so sure that's the way to go (and I've pretty much allowed all that setting material to fall into neglect), but I still get a kick out of seeing other folks' creativity when it comes to tweaking and re-skinning basic D&D to fit a specific campaign profile. As I've noted before, B/X is a wonderful chassis on which to build one's personal fantasy vehicle.

I should note that I haven't thrown my own hat into the ring for this little challenge...I'm a little late to the party and, well, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. But I am more than a little tempted. I've been away from B/X-proper for so long that...well, suffice is to say I am tempted. Heck, I even have a bit of an idea (though an incredibly derivative one). And I'm not sure if it would really be any fun for anyone but me. Hmmm...

BUT readers who are interested should definitely see what they can put together in the next six months. Even if you're already working on some sort of 300 page FHB monstrosity already, try paring it down to a more streamlined basic form. That kind of design exercise is pretty useful (in fact, one of the 2016 projects I'm working on is that 48-page something-or-other that I thought I'd kicked to the curb...more on this later). And after all, you can always go back and finish off your "advanced edition" later, including all the extra rules and bloat and whatnot you feel is necessary to make it complete.

Hmm...that probably sounds unkind ("bloat") or, at least, feisty. I don't really mean it as such...a playful jab. I'm actually starting to come back to the idea that these games of ours require as large a page count as they require, and needn't be limited to arbitrary numbers like 64 or 48 or even 100+. No, I'll probably never dig on something in the 400+ range (not in one volume anyway), but...well, that's a different post for a separate topic.

F. Maybe I will do up a setting book for this challenge thingy. At least to get my pen flowing again.
; )

48 Pages to Glory

There have been many excellent designers who've worked on Dungeons & Dragons over the years, from the initial concepts of Dave Arneson all the way down to...well, to whoever is working on the 5E design now. For the most part, it's taken a village to put together any version of D&D, even in the earliest editions: play testers, artists, editors, layout folks, etc. all had to come together to make a finished product that people could pick up and play. Singling out individuals as being "more valuable" is a little silly because none of 'em did it alone.

Be that as it may, I still hold four names in higher esteem than the others for their work. They are:

Arneson, Gygax, Holmes, and Moldvay

...and if that is terribly unfair of me, I apologize. It is what it is, and I have spent at least a little time criticizing each of them over the years for various design "missteps." Usually gently, but no one's perfect.

I have, at this point in my life, written a few game books...books heavily influenced by the work of these four men. My B/X Companion was done in the style of Moldvay's 64 page rule book, and my Five Ancient Kingdoms was written in the small, three volume fashion of the original D&D books. As I begin my newest project (stupidly, ridiculously...I have so many other irons in the fire), I set my eyes on the work of the one author whose work I've never used at the table, the one man who may have done more singly than any D&D designer in history, with the sole exception of E. Gary Gygax:

That would be John Eric Holmes.

Holmes Basic is a 48 page masterpiece. There, I've said it. Previously, I've referred to it as the "badass edition" of Dungeons & Dragons (that's meant as a compliment); these days, I don't think I've gone far enough in my praise. It is exquisitely concise, and provides near everything needed for a game. Well, a game that goes to 3rd level...but there's certainly enough here to build upon (as many folks have). I've seen many D&D campaigns (my own and others) fail to chart past the 3rd level.

What Holmes did in 48 pages is amazing. Of course, he was a brain surgeon...I think most folks would expect a bit of brilliance. Personally, I'm no rocket scientist...heck, I'm not even employed at the moment...but even so, I want to take a swing at doing this, doing what Holmes did: writing an adult fantasy role-playing game in 48 pages. That doesn't sound terribly hard does it? Even for someone of my hack writing skills?

Of course, it won't be a retroclone of Holmes...the Blueholme Prentice Rules already does a fine job of cloning John Eric. No, this will be using that "different paradigm" I was starting to talk about last month. And it will be a game designed to emulate (if possible) the feeling/style of those "good old days" I was waxing on about a couple days ago...something I want to play, in other words. Though I admit that trying to convey style AND rules in 48 pages is a pretty tall order. Really tall.

Yeah, maybe it's a pipe dream. But I'm going to give it a shot. We'll see what happens.

The plan is to go down swinging.

If any Holmes knowledgeable folks can hip me to the proper font and type size for such a project (assuming an emulation of style), I'd really appreciate the information. Not sure what I'll do about artwork at this point, though Holmes himself only used 14 or 15 small pieces (including maps). Probably more important that I just leave some blank spaces for insertion of illustrations.

More to come (I hope)!

A Reason to Kill (Addendum)

Well, I can’t sleep. Which is unusual because I can usually sleep anywhere at the drop of a hat. However, I either drank too much coffee today or (more likely) I’ve just been wound too tight because of the stress this whole trip has caused me. Anyway, I might as well throw some follow-up thoughts to my last post.

When I say, look at the conflict you want to portray as central and build around it, I’m not (necessarily) saying you need to write “Raising Kids: The Role-Playing Game” or something. And I’m not saying you need to give up combat systems, either.  I’m just saying:

1. You need a way to engage the players besides “ooo, this is a neat setting (or story/plot/arc) that I want to explore, “ and
2. Make that “engagement thing” central in your design priority.

And I’m saying it to myself as well.

All that interesting exploration stuff will appear (if you want it to), in the proper amount, IF you can engage the players. At least, that’s my theory.

Look at the movie Star Wars. I’m sure most of the readers of this blog have watched the original trilogy a couple times. In the first movie, what have we got for a driving conflict? We’ve got this small band of misfits/adventurers fighting against a tyrannical impossible force, yeah? One ship, half a dozen characters (a couple of whom are noncombatants) against hundreds of soldiers, fighters, the Death Star, Darth Vader…even when they get “the Rebels” involved, it still boils down to the main characters’ actions (those other X-Wings are just set-dressing pyrotechnics for all they accomplish in the assault).

The challenge here is finding your courage. It’s something most B/X players might relate to.

The second movie (Empire) is different. Now, the characters are certifiable war heroes. They’ve proven their courage. The war (and the fighting of said war) is backdrop for the real story, the real challenge, namely “can you sacrifice what you hold dear for something that will bring you greater satisfaction?”

[Huh?]

Or something like that (it’s after 2am, cut me some slack, folks). Let’s look at the characters:

Han Solo: cherishes his freedom. Is he willing to give it up to begin a relationship with the princess? This is his conflict through the whole film. In the end, he literally loses his freedom in semi-permanent fashion.

Leia: cherishes her role in the Rebellion. Is she willing to give it up to begin a relationship with a scoundrel/rogue like Solo?

Luke: has achieved his childhood dreams of becoming a fighter pilot, joining the rebellion, and becoming a respected hero. Is he willing to give that up (his status as a “great warrior”) to pursue a more mystic journey towards peace and knowledge on the Jedi path? He finds he can only meet the sacrifice halfway, and loses a piece of himself because of it.

Lando: has become a responsible, respected (and apparently wealthy) leader. Is he willing to give it up to “do the right thing,” fighting against the Empire?

[yes, Lando is a main character…he’s like the dude who shows up to the gaming table late and has to bring his PC in halfway through the session]

All these characters in the story face this challenge, and they all meet it with varying degrees of success. It makes for a richer (in terms of character) movie, if not one with the same “wa-hoo” as the first film. It’s still fantasy adventure, it still has fights, but the fights aren’t the focus of the action. That’s not the challenge that’s engaging the protagonists.

Lukas had a lot of disagreement with the director of the 2^nd film, by the way (and was unhappy with the profits compared to the costs of the over-budget opus), and returned to his “original recipe” when doing Return of the Jedi. The result feels a touch slap-dash as it ties up the character development of the 2^nd while sticking with the action formula of the 1^st film: a small band of heroes facing overwhelming odds (Han and Leia against “a whole legion of troops,” Lando against a Death Star and a thousand fighters, Luke against giant monsters, armies of goons, and two Sith Lords).

[*sigh* how many days has it been since my last post mentioning Star Wars? Re-start the tally tracker]

None of this, by the way, is about saying one path/film is better. I’m using these films as examples of potential RPGs due to the way they model inherent parts of RPGs (fantasy adventure + multiple protagonists). If they were RPGs, not films, you could see that film #2 is either “heavily drifted” (to use a Forge term), or else a different game system from films #1 and #3. Film #1 is definitely the most “Old School” of the three: you have a main adventure site, you have encounters with bad guys, you have challenges to overcome, etc. Film #3 is still pretty “Old School,” though with a little extra “role-playing” thrown in (Film #1 doesn’t have much role-playing, only the jocular “in-character” banter).

Film #2 (if transported to the tabletop) has a different set of rules and objectives.  No game role-plays “training”(well, except for Ars Magica). Few RPGs deal with player-to-player romance.  But in the end, it’s neither the Dagobah Boot Camp nor the sweet-sweet-love that is the point of play…the challenge is the characters’ own inner journey/transformation. The shooting of things is pretty much an afterthought.

The first RPG I can recall relegating combat to a (very) subordinate system was the vastly underrated, out-of-print game Maelstrom. Maelstrom (of which I thought I'd blogged before but apparently haven't) is about as fantasy adventure as you can get and is all about the exploration…I’d like to read (or write) books on the game’s setting. Unfortunately, that doesn’t give a GM much direction as to what to do with the thing, and there’s no engagement that comes from that exploration (*sigh*). BUT the Story Engine’s neat game system (and the thing that makes Maelstrom one of the grandfather’s of narrativist RPGs) was it’s imperative that scenes must be about something, and players resolving the conflict inherent in the scene with a single roll, rather than using multiple die rolls to determine the effectiveness of individual actions (i.e. you didn’t roll “to hit;” you rolled to see if you were successful at the scene “objective”). It was all quite brilliant, in a meandering, primordial narrativist ooze kind-o-way.

*ahem* ANYway. Why am I even talking about this shit? Um…besides the fact that the ix-nay on exploration was kind of a (mild) epiphany this evening/morning? Well, I was just thinking about my son. We play a lot of “pretend” games together, including a lot of games with superheroes who “fight” bad guys…but, of course, D has been taught not to actually “fight” other children himself (except when pretending, natch), and often our games involve non-lethal conflict resolution. If someone gets “hurt” there’s usually a pause in play to have the doctor fix them (and to put the injured party in bed and feed ‘em soup, etc.). Sometimes the bad guys get talked into (or spontaneously decide) to become “good guys.” Sometimes everyone just wants to dance. We do a lot of things besides pretending to karate chop someone’s head is the point.

I’ve been working on two games the last month or so, and making good progress on both. One is a post-apocalyptic fantasy based on B/X that has a bunch of new rules designed to encourage more collaboration between players. The other game is A Very Fantasy heartbreaker that is my homage to Holmes Basic (in much the same way as 5AK was my homage to OD&D). The latter is aimed at a “younger” audience, and (I think) has a younger tone. No, not so young as my son (he’s three), but definitely more Susan Cooper than Michael Moorecock.

But I did ask my boy’s input and let him pick most of the monsters that would be included. And yet, as I write the game I keep thinking “neat as this innovative new combat system is (I wouldn’t mind using it in a B/X game)” do I really want to resolve conflicts with the sword all the time? And if the game is not about “battling evil” than what IS it about? Turning evil “from the Dark Side?”

[actually, I know for a fact that’s NOT what the game’s about, since it has a definite objective to play]

Anyhoo…more musings at 3am. Oh, look: they’re serving breakfast! (do they know it’s 3am?)

Yak at ya’ later.

Subclasses, Variants, and Filters (P. 3)

[continued from here...]

So, yeah: filters. What is an appropriate filter? Something that requires players to make a choice. Setting requirements that ask the question, "what are you willing to PAY to play this character?" Or rather, "are you willing to give up X, Y, and Z to have this particular concept?"

The basic classes already do this:

• Cleric: will you give up edged (better damage) weapons for some miscellaneous/healing magic and some ability against the undead?
• Fighter: will you give up any other special abilities for the use of all arms and armor, good HPs, and the best attack matrix?
• Magic-User: will you give up all arms, armor, and combat fortitude for a chance to gain fantastic power over the long haul?
• Thief: will you give up being mighty in combat for some sneaky skills?

Part of the trade-off for the basic classes is also with regard to one's expected role in the party. The cleric often seems over-powered for its class advantages, whether in AD&D (with its D8 hit dice and attack-oriented spells) or B/X (especially when using the default D6 damage)...at least, when compared to the cleric's rate of level advancement. But the cleric's player is also being asked the additional question: "Are you willing to take on the role of healer and cooperative/assisting party member in exchange for all these bennies?" The cleric character is generally the most "put-upon" of any party member, followed by either the fighter (expected to be the front-line combatant) or the thief (expected to walk point and disarm poison needles). The damn magic-user gets a "free pass" in most parties (and then bitches loudly that he's got "nothing to do").

The choices for the basic classes are BASIC choices. They define the role the player wants to take in an adventuring party. With exceptional variant classes, classes that "one-up" other classes, it's not enough to require a basic choice...an appropriate filter requires an EXCEPTIONAL choice.

For example, let's look at the AD&D ranger class: XP costs are about 10% higher (reasonable for any variant, in my opinion) plus the arbitrary ability score restrictions. Other penalties for taking the class include the following:

- Only receiving D8s for hit dice (but they receive 2D8 at 1st level giving them a better average HP total than equal level fighters up until 6th level..and their HD go up to eleven, not just nine)

- Must be of good alignment

- May not have hirelings until 8th level

- No more than three rangers may ever operate together at any time (because otherwise the entire party would consist of rangers?)

- May only own the goods and treasure they can carry upon their person and mount

In exchange for which they receive the following bonuses: gradually increasing bonus damage to giant-class creatures with includes such "giants" as goblins and orcs; bonuses to surprise; bonuses to resist surprise; tracking ability; druidic spells beginning at 8th level; magic-user spells beginning at 9th level; ability to employ magical scrying devices at 10th level; attraction of 2-24 loyal (unpaid!) henchmen at 10th level...said henchmen generally consisting of exceptional adventuring types and monsters (including copper dragons and storm giants!).

You know, a copper dragon mount carries a lot of treasure.

Assuming you're playing AD&D 1E sans the weapon specialization rules of the UA (and even rangers are allowed some weapon specialization), what's the real trade-off here? That your character has to be chaotic good instead of chaotic neutral? Other than the "no more than three rangers can operate together" clause, I see no real reason why all the fighting men of a (cooperative) party would not want to play rangers. I don't recall any PCs in my old campaigns hoarding so much treasure they needed a war galley to store it in (and why do you think portable holes were invented anyway?).

No...the restrictions on an obviously exceptional class are restrictions, but they ain't particularly stringent. Not enough to act as the filter I'm talking about.

Filters should have the following characteristics:

- they should be performable even at low (1st) level, making the class open to dedicated players

- they should be based on role-playing and/or player choice, not random dice roll

- they should be appropriate to and emphasize the class concept

- they should be a pain in the ass

And that is a pain in the ass for the player that wants to play the concept, not a pain in the ass for the rest of the players in the group. Filters should involve sacrifice for the player that wants to play the exceptional class, not a sacrifice for the other players. For example, it would be inappropriate for an assassin requisite to be "must kill a friend or ally in cold blood," when that would generally entice the PC to murder a fellow PC or one of her fellow's henchmen. See how that's not cool?

So what are some appropriate filters? Well, unfortunately, they're kind of setting specific...of course,  variant classes themselves are setting specific (including paladins in your fantasy world says something very specific about that world)...but most DMs will have to decide how "tight" a filter is needed for his or her own campaign. I suppose I could give some suggestions...but this would just be spit-balling. 

[oh, well...when have I ever balked at voicing a half-baked idea?]

Much Maligned

The thief-acrobat subclass of thief is a problematic one for a variety of reasons: it requires PCs to obtain a certain level (6th), it has a bunch of fiddly feet/inches based skills, it's written poorly...and yet just about every thief in my old AD&D campaign would eventually switch over to the thief-acrobat route once they had the required levels under their belt. Why? Because their concept of a thief was more in-line with the daring cat-burglar than the skulking pick pocket...plus you get to keep all the "cool" skills (backstabbing, moving silently, etc.) and picking up all this acrobatic nonsense. My campaign was absolutely filthy with thief-acrobats...and no one ever had a problem making the ability pre-requisites.

[as an aside, by 6th level the clerics can detect traps and the magic-user can knock locks, so what's lost in making the transition? See...not much of a SUBclass]

Now, as said, the variant is still problematic because of its level restriction...but if you re-wrote the class to start at 1st level (HINT: subtract 5 from each number in the leftmost column of the Thief-Acrobat Function Table in the Unearthed Arcana), what filters might you put in place to prevent all your aspiring thieves from jumping into the T-A archetype?

How about ALL of the following requirements:

1. Character must pay all starting gold to her instructor; part of her "schooling" will include some basic tools of the trade (generally, climbing gear, some pouches, and her two formal weapons...no armor). Thereafter, she must give one-half (or more) of all treasure found to her instructor between adventures, at least for the first three to five levels...acrobatic training is rigorous, and on-going teaching necessary for an apprenticeship period.
2. Character is restricted to staff and lasso as her weapons at first level (these take her two proficiency slots)...both are tools as much as weapons, and it is necessary to be as accustomed to them as to her own limbs.
3. Character must demonstrate her dedication to the craft by performing (or attempting to perform) at least one feat of daring in each session during the apprentice period. Such a death defying act might be a solo wall scale or over-head hang or any use of the acrobatic skill function. Failure to at least make a single attempt results in NO EXPERIENCE being earned for the session. Likewise, there's no respite from this penalty should "no appropriate opportunity" be presented; in the acrobat's mind, such an adventure might be deemed a waste of time and training! Once the apprentice period is over (after the first three to five levels) such demonstrations are unnecessary for advancement, but should have become a routine part of the player character's gameplay.

I'm sure I could think up some other appropriate filters for the paladin class (most involving vows to a Church or temple and based on the knightly trials of chivalric literature) and the others...but, then, you folks can probably do that, too, right?

: )

Hope this gives people some food for thought!

All Right – This Shit IS Hard (Kinda’)

Trying to write one’s own version of Dungeons & Dragons can be both frustrating and enlightening. Frustrating and enlightening for pretty much the exact same reasons.

Ugh. It’s kind of hard to explain but I’ll give it a shot.

What do you do when you have the premier fantasy role-playing game and people are playing the hell out of it using nothing but a few scribbled packets of notes and you want to make it “better?” What do you do when all along the simplicity of the design allowed folks to add all sorts of fun ideas and house rules, and now you’re attempting to lend the thing a degree of coherence? How do you balance the crazy energy of the game IN ACTUAL PLAY with the potential for a more serious exploration of them and subject matter? How do you reconcile those two without destroying the thing’s free-wheeling fun with an over-burdening of rules crunch?

How do you make a game of “serious” or “dark fantasy” and yet delightfully whimsical and enchanting (not just cheesy and satirical) all at the same time?

How do you do both The Hobbit AND The Lord of the Rings?

It’s tricky. It’s mercurial. It’s friggin’ Howardian…one day a Conan story is incredibly dark and mean-spirited (c.f. the Black Circle boys), the next he’s braining someone with a leg of mutton and knocking himself out cold in a drunken slapstick routine.

I suppose you see this juxtaposition of humor and seriousness in some of the better action films (Star Wars and Die Hard come to mind), and there’s a certain amount of that being tapped by the best D&D games. However, it has been my experience that the “serious” part can be difficult to sustain in the face of certain ridiculous aspects…especially the more players there are sitting 'round the table.

Which can be a real buzzkill if you want something more than just a pratfall with blood.

Anyway…to be specific about my own issues, here’s the dichotomy I’M running up against: trying to balance over-the-top fantasy (perhaps milder than the usual D&Dish stuff) versus a coherent, gritty fantasy based in large part on the mythic/historic “real world.”

Ugh. You just can’t have it both ways.

And the more I try to do it, the greater appreciation I have for Mr. Gygax and company...or the mess they made, anyway. I like the paladin class (as presented in Supplement I, minus the horse) and I want to include it, but there is absolutely no real historic (mythic) basis for it. I LIKE my version of the illusionist (who is increasingly morphing into ‘some-type-o-spell-caster-most-definitely-not-an-illusionist’) and think it would be fun to play…but then we’re getting into “lala land” weirdness with the way I'm writing the character. I WANT the world to feel more real, with less humanoids and fewer fantastic monsters in general…but then, what kind of adventures will player characters be getting into? If most monsters don’t collect treasure (because they’re mindless creatures), then what point is there for PCs to fight them? What’s the reward?

On the other hand, how can you be setting specific and generic at the same time? If there’s an assassins guild or a thieves guild or a magic-users guild (or whatever)...well, that says something about the setting of your game, even when you try to make the damn thing generic and “oh-just-apply-the-game-concept-to-any-setting-you-like.” No, you can’t do that…unless you strip the thing down to its barest, basest bones.

And then you’re losing all the cool flavor that’s in your head and that you wanted to include in the first place. Because after all, you ARE trying to create a reference that is going to be USED at your gaming table.

Blackmoor worked with OD&D. Greyhawk worked with OD&D. Putting them together (or lumping them into one volume like AD&D), causes them to fight and antagonize each other. Just what is a paladin versus a ranger versus a monk versus a cleric? In the real world I can reconcile different religious philosophies: there is One God who has many names (some of which may even be multiplicities). The Truths (that we’re all in this together and need to help one another however we can) doesn’t vary from cult to cult or institution to institution…just the prayers and semantics and observed rites and traditions change.

But in D&D, there’s more changing than just ritual and burnt offering: there are sweeping game effects that change. If clerics can’t use edged weapons, how come paladins can? Why don’t monks get spells or the ability to turn undead? If druids are priests of nature, why do they have so many differences from other priesthoods. Etc., etc.

These are FUNDAMENTAL QUESTIONS of the concept of a game world. They do not rest easily together, and yet none are left out…instead more on simply added over time. And I think the reason why is this:

• Taking each concept individually, the idea can be fun and intriguing.
• When designing an updated version of a game with fun and intriguing concepts, where do you draw the line? How do you decide which beloved class ends up on the cutting room floor

FOR EXAMPLE: I can see a campaign world in which both druids (with their strange abilities) and clerics (with their different strange abilities) exist side-by-side. Most likely in an antagonistic relationship to each other (similar to our real world, right? Organized religious figures stamping out the nature-loving pagans?). What I have a much harder time picturing is a world in which these two guys go on happy little adventures together. Not without some mighty heavy-handed forcing (or just throwing up your hands and saying, “hey, the game is OVER-THE-TOP.”) And I don’t want to do that (either one!)!

So yeah, this shit is hard.

Check out this other example: O Spell List How I Hate Thee. I am soooo tired of the D&D spell list, even as I totally dig Vancian (“fire-and-forget”) magic and want to include it in my game. There is just little to me that is as tired as “spell bloat.” Oh, we need to fill out this list…how about protection from evil in a 10 FOOT RADIUS? How about Lower Water AND Part Water both as 5th level spells. Oh, let’s throw magic missile in here so magic-users get an attack spell at 1st level. Oh, but let’s scale it up with level so that a 1st level spell can do more damage than most other spells at high level…and players can take multiples of them, totally out-classing the archer guy with his bow specialty.

And yet, specific spells of D&D are such a recognizable trope that NOT including them, or changing their function or level needed to cast, is totally asking for people to disregard your game and say THAT isn’t D&D, even if you do have spell books and scrolls and all the Vancian rigmarole. “No, sleep spell? What kind of savage are you?”

So yeah, it’s hard. Forget “game balance” as the idea of niche protection or allowing characters to all compete evenly on a relatively level playing field. THAT’s the last thing on my mind! I’m trying to balance concept and consistency and interesting-fun-bang…AND still put out something recognizable as Dungeons & Dragons.

I mean, I really REALLY don’t want elves and dwarves in this f’ing thing…at least not as player characters. Is that a total deal-breaker? Do I need to have an appendix on ‘em?

[actually an appendix for demihumans ain’t a bad idea]

When I was doing the monster list for Land of Ice I spent an awful lot of time thinking about what to include and what not to include. I mean, really, why are some monsters even on the monster list in D&D? Triceratops was a vegetarian…it’s a big scaly cow, folks. What purpose could it have in attacking a party of adventurers? Assuming they can do it serious harm, wouldn’t it just run away? Are rats really likely to attack players carrying fire? What kind of crazy-ass world is this, anyway? Why are so many sentient humanoid species degenerate killers looking to fight humans? What kind of evolution leads to goblins, kobolds, orcs, hobgoblins, bugbears, lizard men, bullywugs, sauhagin, troglodytes, ogres, giants, etc., etc. It just doesn’t make a heaping whole lot o sense.

And yet you can have FUN with ANY AND ALL of these things. There’s no editing of content in D&D (at least not till 2nd Edition); there’s just fantasy diarrhea of the brain. Your character wants to use the awesome chain lightning spell? Then you need to have a mob of monsters to attack. Because while a singular monster is often a coward to be pitied, a group of monsters is a war party.

Just never mind that the high breeding humans with their ability to manufacture plate armor and steel weapons will quickly extinguish ANY such hostile species from the face of the fantasy planet. I mean, just look at all the real world species and cultures humans have suppressed or hunted to extinction with a lot less motivation than that needed to take on the psychotic orc tribe down the street.

I’ve said before that the basic premise of D&D is ridiculous. It is also, however, fun to play...even when folks are using it as a ridiculous farce (for some people that just makes it more fun to play and is the main draw of playing).

Maybe it’s just me; maybe I'm the odd duck when it comes to this thing. Conventional (no pun intended) wisdom would probably say to just go with the mash-up (as everyone else has done before) and allow individual DMs to either A) try to weakly justify the kitchen sink design strategy of the game, or B) discard and house rule down to their preferred stream-lined version.

But if I’m rewriting the game for myself, shouldn’t I be writing what I want?

On the other hand, if I write solely for myself, I might not be able to find any players who want to play what I want.

And anyway, I want to include both paladins and assassins. I’m just having a tricky time figuring out why they would ever associate with each other.

Ah, well…that one is perhaps the LEAST of my worries.
; )

The Second Pillar – Reward

The second pillar that is fundamental to the integrity of the D&D game is reward. Participants who participate in game play (whether as a player character or Dungeon Master) can expect to be rewarded for their actions.

Some might say the act of play itself is its own reward, and to a certain degree that is true (we’ll address that in the 3rd Pillar). However, actual compensation for the merits of one’s in-game (imaginary) action has been true through almost every edition of the game and is an identifiable part of the D&D game’s foundation. If characters are not being rewarded for their action, I’m not sure what you’re playing can be called “D&D.”

Similar to what was discussed in the prior post, the rewards to be had are different depending on the role one takes when participating in the game; I’ll discuss each in turn.

For player characters, we can see that one’s reward is one of improved effectiveness, decisively tied (in most editions) to the player’s response and success to challenges issued. A player character that meets and overcomes all challenges will progress quickly in game effectiveness, gaining experience and thus level, increasing attack ability, saving throws, hit points, number of spells, etc. A player character that chooses to face fewer challenges will find his (or her) effectiveness increased at a slower rate, as will player characters that seek many challenges but fails at overcoming those challenges.

This has been the case since the earliest editions of the game, when PCs were considered scurrilous rogues seeking fortunes within dark dungeons. The measure of a character’s “score” was, in the main, directly attributable to the value of treasure brought out of the ground. Recover a great deal of treasure and your character received more points, increasing in level (game effectiveness) and allowing the character to recover MORE treasure…though with a gradually diminishing rate of return.

By the 3rd (D20) Edition of the game, the experience points awarded were solely due to overcoming challenges commensurate with ability; whether or not treasure was recovered was of secondary concern (at best), except with regard to magic items (we’ll get back to those in a moment).

In addition to in-game effectiveness, the reward of game play also includes MORE game play and DIFFERENT game play, as the rewards reaped open up greater avenues of exploration for the player characters. A character that increases in level (and thus effectiveness) is able to delve deeper, darker dungeons and face greater challenges, presumably reaping greater reward. A character that acquires a spell or magic item allowing planar travel can journey to other dimensions, even across game and genre boundaries (see the notes on Gamma World and Boot Hill crossover in the original Dungeon Masters Guide). A character that acquires Name (9th) level and enough gold to build a stronghold fortress can begin exploring the adventures only open to a ruler of men: opening territories for expansion, drafting armies for conquest, making treatise and alliances, and seeing about putting an heir on the throne.

“Reward” is a fundamental pillar of the D&D game. Reward informs play; it explains why it is that player characters take action, why they behave as they do. Reward provides the motivation for character activity; some players may be uninterested in facing a challenge simply for the sake of a challenge (not all of us are “adrenaline junkies,” even in our imaginary worlds!), but for the sake of REWARD they will participate.

The promise of power can be a strong lure for even the most recalcitrant adventurer. Spell-users, especially the unarmored, lightly armed magic-user, will find that the best way to increase his (or her) survivability is take on challenges, to act heroic rather than stay home studying their tomes for it is only through adventuring that the wizard’s spell-casting ability improves.

To some, this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense; the RPG Ars Magica, for example, makes the acquisition of magical power a product of staying shut-in for seasons at a time, poring over dusty scrolls and pursuing alchemical study and experimentation. Perfectly sensible and realistic, and Ars Magica is a very cool game (I’ve owned a couple editions). On the other hand, except as a mental exercise, this type of game play (tracking seasons and study points) is DEAD BORING to play. The Dungeons & Dragons game rewards active participation; it rewards PLAYING the game. As an activity of group participation, I prefer my RPG game play to have more player activity and less mental masturbation.

Since we’re on the subject of magic, I will mention that magic items in the D&D game are a stylistic trope that provides an additional “piece” of the reward system. After all, magic items are not simply gifted or sold to PCs (well, not in most editions of the game). Instead they must be found or earned/awarded through game play. They provide a similar bonus as experience points (i.e. they increase character effectiveness and open up other avenues of game play, depending on the effect of the item) and provide “crowing rights” to players: “Hey, I got a portable hole!” “Yeah, well I have a sword of sharpness, so there.”

Crowing (i.e. bragging) is part of the out-of-game reward that players receive; again referring back to the Forge article on the gamist creative agenda, players play the game in part to test their mettle and feel a sense of accomplishment at overcoming challenge. Whether that turns your crank or not, the game of D&D (at least in its pre-2007 editions) rewards players commensurate with the challenges tackled and the results achieved; whether or not you feel like bragging about it is entirely up to you.

For the Dungeon Master, there are rewards to game play as well:

• The reward of creatively expressing oneself through a rich fantasy environment, not to mention interesting settings and scenarios.
• The reward of cackling uproariously at your players’ expense when your fiendish challenge completely burns them.

The first item is something many GMs of other role-playing games can attest to as a “reward of play” (not all GMs…in some indie-style “story-games” the setting is too collaborative or too “set in stone” to allow much “world building”). But we’ll discuss some specific differences (with regard to D&D) when we get to the last pillar.

The second item, though, is something a lot fewer RPGs offer.

Because of the natural antagonist role placed on the DM by the Dungeons & Dragons game (i.e. the role of challenging the players), the DM has a chance to exercise his (or her) own personal brand of destruction in acting as an obstacle to the players. This can be in the form of a fiendish monster encounter or diabolical trap; it can be a cleverly mapped labyrinth or a moral quandary of epic consequence.

For an example of that last one, I advise checking out the fairly excellent Return to White Plume Mountain, the only 2nd edition book of any kind that still sits on my shelf. It forces players to make all sorts of ethical choices due to the nature of the adventure (wherein power is promised with a price, and mental possession is on the board for player characters)…and the climax (should the PCs reach it) is the real kicker: kill the baby or don’t kill the baby!

I mean, who would hurt a little baby?
; )

Anyway, as I said in the last post, the challenge of being a DM is in setting up challenges for the players that are neither overwhelming nor “softball.” The PAY-OFF (i.e. the “reward”) for the DM is in seeing those plans come to fruition and (if done correctly) feeling totally at ease with the self-indulgent hosing of the player characters.

Hey, I’m just being honest. A DM needs SOME kicks, after all…it’s not like we exist purely for the players’ entertainment, puffing them up with set pieces that are easy to knock down. We are required to “play fair” with the players (that’s explicit in every edition I've read), but providing we’re not throwing the might of the universe at ‘em, we’re obliged to try to knock the PCs down a peg. That’s OUR fun, and D&D is one of the few games that allow the referee to indulge in that kind of mayhem.

[in other RPGs, game moderators are working to build a world or story…sometimes in collaboration with players, other times “for the benefit of players” (and when the latter is done with respect to “story,” then you’ve got a railroad going on)]

Admittedly, not every DM “cackles” with glee (I was being superfluous there, though in my case it HAS been a literal truth at times), but DMs can take pride is their challenges and “stumping” the players, enjoying the push-and-pull of competition.

In building a new Dungeons & Dragons, care must be taken to build upon the pillar of reward, just as it is with the pillar of challenge…existing editions point to the way in which challenge is integrated with reward to provide a game that is both stimulating and motivating. If building the game in a modular fashion (as is the stated intention of current designers), modules can be developed that address this integral part of the D&D foundation. Some possible examples:

• Rewards for increased effectiveness at different levels of play (low, mid, high)
• Rewards coupled with new avenues of exploration (an example of such from the past might be the SpellJammer setting…by finding/building a space-worthy magic item or spell, it opens up “fantasy space” for exploration/exploitation by the party).
• Additional rewards in terms of level-based minor abilities (similar to D20’s feats)
• New methods of “keeping score,” new incentives to motivate players, “tournament style” add-ons for real crowing rights, etc.
• Instruction and information for DMs to better gauge challenges so that they can “crow” on their own; modules that offer different ideas of how to “stick it” to players, giving DMs alternatives to the standard method of counting “wins” (I can think of a few, but listing them will sound more self-indulgent and sadistic than I already do!)

All right, that's enough to chew over for today.

Next pillar up: ESCAPE.