The Grumpy Old Troll

Rumours

2012-01-28T19:40:00.000-05:00

It is night-time for Migellito’s caravan. They are camped outside of Antwerp, and many of the travellers have gone into the city. The caravan boss steps toward the fire outside a brightly painted coach. “Tarot Woman?”

She answers nearly unseen from behind the fire, and he moves to sit next to her. She asks “you are enjoying the benefits of the new route, yes?”

He is serious and unsmiling. “Yes. It is as you foretold. ‘You will find fortune beyond the fields we know.’ But now two men, they won’t return with us to the East. Another is crushed by one of those accursed devil statues. And I don’t really believe they were statues.”

She smiles. “The last one was sold in Brussels. They are gone now.”

He quickly stands. “It’s not about the statues! This route takes us too close to the Lich Stone! And what of this glyph? There has been no sign of it!”

The gypsy lady motions for Migellito to sit again. “The Lich Stone is on the other side of the Rhine Sea, miles away when we pass by. There is no worry. For other matters, there is patience. The tarot does not lie to me. It never has. And now that I possess these mystic plaques, I am one with it stronger than ever before. Is your man ready when the time is right?”

Migellito sighs. “Yes. He awaits for word in Ravensburg.” He stands and begins to walk away. “My patience will not last forever, Tarot Woman.”

Goggle-Eyed Cluelacker

2012-01-26T13:39:00.002-05:00

Because of this.

Goggle-Eyed Cluelacker
2 hit dice
Pummel attack for 1d6 damage
Armor class 6 due to rubberiness, blunt weapons do -1 damage
Move 9
Surprised on 3 in 6
Can see all round, 360 degrees
Low intelligence
Encountered in groups of 2d12+8 (10 to 32)

These idiotic creatures appear similar to pale-skinned frog people. The batrachian appearance is due mostly to the large round goggley eyes sitting on what would be a flattened human's forehead. Their mouths, though large, flappy, and gibbering, are not the ear-to-ear affair of a true batrachinoid. Their pale skin tends to be quite clammy as well. They occasionally have hair on their heads, but if so it is very thin and lank. Their pale skin can range through whitish green to whitish blue, or even a whitish yellow or violet cast, mostly based on geographical region. Also, their long spatulate fingers are not webbed. They tend to be pot-bellied and weak-shouldered, with spindly arms and legs, and large hands and feet. Most are from 5 and a half to 6 feet tall.

Although they will not actively attack unless directly threatened, they can be quite dangerous nonetheless. Upon noticing any humanoid, they will attempt to crowd around the individual or individuals, touching and pawing at them while gibbering their inane mutterings. Each round anyone thus in contact with them (even if not entirely surrounded) must make a reaction save versus wands (or a difficult dexterity check) to maintain their footing. If the unfortunate focus of their attention loses their footing, the victim will immediately be subject to 6d3 trampling damage. The victim may attempt to crawl out of the press during the next combat round by repeating their saving throw (or ability check.) Each subsequent round of trampling reduces the efficacy of escape attempts by 2 points.

Jack in The Box

2012-01-25T19:55:00.001-05:00

We join our jaunty jaunting jackdaw in his favourite establishment, The Blue Rabbit.

“Feck off!”

Oh, ho! Yes, he’s in high spirits today, isn’t he? Now we see him bid adieu to this fine house, and exit out into his beloved Cornish countryside. Except, what’s this? It’s changed, and now Jack finds himself in the strange world of Outland. Looking about for a moment, Jack shrugs, unruffled. He consigns the drastically altered view to the trusty old aphorism, ‘If you don’t like the scenery in Britain, just wait ten minutes.’

And who do we have here? Why, it’s Scarecrow, a tengu who is perhaps as much bird as he is man. He gives Father Jack a warm welcome to this odd land, and is rewarded in kind.

“Arse! Drink!”

After such pleasantries, our determined pair set off in a heretofore unexplored direction, accompanied by the Father’s trusty torchier, Garmir, and a newfound companion, Vince Vinton, a local vintner. Striking off to the northwest from the Outpost, it’s only a few miles until they find themselves struggling up and down rough dry hills. By this time, Jack has completely dismissed Scarecrow’s beaky countenance, believing him to be a big-nosed Norman.

Less than an hour into the craggy hills, our travellers look down into a basin with seven shadowy holes in the hillsides. Discovery! All the holes but one show evidence of steady traffic in and out from some sort of V-footed individuals. Now joined by Doc Sampson, they descend the hill and enter the one trackless tunnel mouth.

An eight foot round dirt hole burrows away into the hillside. With a call of “Girly! Light!” Garmir sets a torch aflame, and in they go. After several turns, a side tunnel rewards their view with several doors. One offers scratching sounds, and they press on. One door proves locked, and again they move along. A large round wooden door in the side of the tunnel, it’s knob oddly in the centre, opens to their efforts and they are rewarded with a small room. A heavy metal cabinet within is no match for Scarecrow’s masterful ministrations, and they look within. What’s this? Oddities of Outland greet them. One gives its wearer sight in the dark, while another proves ready to blast a smoking hole in the tunnel wall with a blast of flashing green. Extraordinary!

Taking their newfound swag, they return to the locked door, Scarecrow brimming with newfound confidence in his considerable abilities. His confidence is well-placed, as the lock falls before his efforts. Waiting behind this round portal is a dark and musty dirt descent. Down go our travellers, fathom after fathom.

Finally levelling out far below, their path takes them into an enormous cavern filled with tables, desks and stands. Every surface throughout the expansive room is covered with bubbling, smoking glassware. Beakers, tubes, flasks, all filled with liquids of a hundred scintillating colours. We see our good father has become quite animated.

“Drink!!”

Trusty Garmir settles Father Jack with a few words, and our intrepid band begins carefully and quietly exploring this subterranean laboratory.

As we will soon see, this is the exhaustive and prodigiously proportioned laboratory of a very unusual man. A man the likes of which none of our travellers have ever seen. His alien skin is jet black, yet he is indeed human. All his varied chemical apparatus is in fact one vast process. Scores and scores of intricately interconnected tubes and glass, flasks and beakers boiling away with a hundred rare reagents, all this vast experiment, all working toward one final precipitate. A tiny drop falls, only one in many minutes, into the final ultimate flask. It boils away in a flashing instant, the smoke dissipating in a colour never before seen by human eyes. Each drop thus leaves only a tiny speck of dust, and the flask, though by no means full, holds the product of untold hours! Here he is now! The exotic jet-skinned master of the laboratory emerges in his white coat!

So then the party killed him.

And broke the flask. The precious precipitate disappeared all over the dirt.

Doc Sampson is heaving a flask of acid at the furious dagger-wielding onyx-toned scientist! What can happen? It melts his face off! He drops dead.

Wandering into the ex-scientist’s bedroom, we see Jack discover a horde of glittering jewellery! He shrugs non-committedly. But what’s this hidden away in there? A pouch filled with strange white powder. Following his curiosity, Jack sniffs the pouch to see if it bears some unique aroma.

Threee. Hours. Laterrrr… <- Jacques Cousteau accent

Here is Jack, but he’s not looking very jaunty. He is struggling back across the dry rolling grass, with Garmir’s help. The craggy dirt hills are far behind. What has happened? Sadly, our narrative depends on the memory of Father Jack, and he doesn’t remember a bloody thing. He is, however, carrying the decapitated head of a gigantic white flower. Looking about, he sees everyone has one. Ah well, such is the way of things in a traveller’s life, and our unflappable Jack dismisses these details with a wave of the hand, and turns his mind to matters ahead.

“Drink!”

Unfortunately, the local libations prove too much for our far-ranging friar, and he falls afoul of jurisprudence. As well as several other kinds of prudence. He awakes in a barred cell, not long before his release is arranged. He is less than happy about the arrangement.

“Gobshite!”

And now, his purse emptied of all coin to pay his fines, and many of his possessions confiscated to make up the remainder of his debt, he falls asleep in an alley of the outpost. He reaches for his trusty Neverending Rumflask. Knowing what the future holds, the faithful Garmir plugs his ears.

“FECK!! ARSE!! FECK!! DRIIIIIINK!!!!”

It is gone.

Thanks to Jeremy for a great game! :)

A Kingdom for A Premise

2012-01-25T13:36:00.000-05:00

I originally built Castle Nicodemus sometime around 1992. The premise was fairly simple. Take some locations detailed in various sources and combine them together in one place. All the sources had something very specific in common, except for one. That one did have similarities to the others, however.

Why so vague? Because I want my players to guess where I got the pieces. The reward for correctly determining something's provenance? Appropriate and relatively substantial, hopefully.

Coming back to the castle after so long, I first went through and made sure it still worked. I'm pretty sure it does now. I also added 2 new locations, one of which is based on a different sort of source material. Related, certainly, but different.

I'll only lay down one clue. If you're good at recognizing maps, you shouldn't have too much trouble.

Tables for Nicodemus

2012-01-23T19:57:00.000-05:00

Most things about OD&D are quite easy to elucidate quickly while in the midst of a game. There are a few things, however, which consistently pop up as needing a bit more detail, or requiring the DM to advise players to consult one of the many fine retro-clones for something. I don't want to have to do that, not because of the clones themselves (on the contrary, I'm quite taken with many of them) but so that everyone is nicely on the same page about everything, and everyone knows what to expect.

With that in mind, here are a couple of lists which show the exact numbers we're using for Castle Nicodemus.

Ability Modifiers:

Strength, Fighter Only	To Hit	Damage
3-4	-2	-1
5-6	-1
7-9
10-12
13-15	+1
16	+1	+1
17	+2	+2
18	+2	+3

Dexterity, Fighter Only	AC
15	-1
16	-2
17	-3
18	-4

Dexterity, All	To Hit
3-8	-1
13-18	+1

Spell Slots (inquire after Druids):

Magic-User Spells	1^st	2^nd	3^rd	4^th	5^th	6^th
Medium	1
Seer	2
Conjurer	3	1
Theurgist	4	2
Thaumaturgist	4	2	1
Magician	4	2	2
Enchanter	4	3	2	1
Warlock	4	3	3	2
Sorcerer	4	3	3	2	1
Necromancer	4	4	3	3	2
Wizard	4	4	4	3	3
Wizard, 12th Level	4	4	4	4	4	1
Wizard, 13th Level	5	5	5	4	4	2
Wizard, 14th Level	5	5	5	4	4	3
Wizard, 15th Level	5	5	5	4	4	4
Wizard, 16th Level	5	5	5	5	5	5

Cleric Spells	1^st	2^nd	3^rd	4^th	5^th
Acolyte	zip
Adept	1
Village Priest	2
Vicar	2	1
Curate	2	2
Bishop	2	2	1	1
Lama	2	2	2	1	1
Patriarch	2	2	2	2	2
Patriarch, 9th Level	3	3	3	2	2
Patriarch, 10th Level	3	3	3	3	3

Roll on a d20 Needed to Hit Armor Class Zero:
Fighters of All Stripes, as well as Paladins

Levels 1-3: 19
Levels 4-6: 17
Levels 7-9: 14

Magic-Users

Levels 1-5: 19
Levels 6-10: 17
Levels 11-15: 14

Clerics and Thieves

Levels 1-4: 19
Levels 5-8: 17
Levels 9-12: 14

Saving Throws:

Class	Level	Death or Poison	Wands	Stone	Dragon Breath	Spells
Fighting-Men	1-3	12	13	14	15	16
Magic-User	1-5	13	14	13	16	15
Cleric	1-4	11	12	14	16	15
Fighter	4-6	10	11	12	13	14
Magic User	6-10	11	12	11	14	12
Cleric	5-8	9	10	12	14	12
Fighter	7-9	8	9	10	10	12
Magic-User	11-15	8	9	8	11	8
Cleric	9-12	6	7	9	11	9
Fighter	10-12	6	7	8	8	10
Magic-User	16+	5	6	5	8	3
Cleric	13+	3	5	7	8	7
Fighter	13+	4	5	5	5	8

Jack at The Blue Rabbit

2012-01-22T03:03:00.000-05:00

Being a record of some of the exploits of the good father, related during what literary drunkards often refer to as a moment of clarity.

Well, we headed out onto the moors today. There’s been talk about this beast roaming around out there. Some say it’s a devil cat. At any rate, there’s a reward, so it seemed like a good way to spend the morning.

On the way we passed by some peasants, and I gave them the good word, letting them know they would most likely end up burning in purgatory. They were very appreciative, and let us know about a sorcerer who had been seen round the countryside, causing anxiety through his Spanish countenance and scaring the sheep. Now, I believe this turned out to be an unlucky choice of words on their part, calling him a sorcerer, as you will see, but I don’t blame them, as they’re all just a lot of ignorant Cornish.

They had told us this Spaniard had been spied about hangman’s hill, so that’s where we made for. Sure enough, three crows started following us almost straight away, and not a one of us failed to see this as an ill omen. One got away, and we probably should have sworn it all off as a bad job and went back to the abbey there and then, but on we pressed. I walked up to the gallows and someone noticed one of the stretched fellows there had recently gone missing a hand. After a stroke of luck, I saw wizard tracks heading off into the moor.

Following the tracks, we arrived at a hut made of bones. The others decided to walk on in, and realizing their godless ignorant ways, I knew it would be pointless to cry out against it. Inside, we found that body’s cut hand covered in wax and burning from the fingertips, all written round with sorcerous designs and eldritch patterns. There was also a pot on the boil, but none of us tasted it.

I left a note, letting him know he should lay off bothering the sheep. We continued to track him, and before long we saw him walking the moor. Finn headed out to get round behind him, and the rest of us approached. He held out his hands to let us know he had no weapons, and I started talking to him in Latin. His Latin wasn’t the best, but after all he was only a Spaniard. Before we’d gotten past the niceties, the ghostly skinned skeleton woman approached a bit closer to the Spaniard so she could be ready for anything. Now, I don’t blame her for this. Mostly because of how she filled out her robes. It’s not all bones under there, let me tell you. Well, he got a bit nervous and was showing us his hands again. Then Finn hit him on the head from behind. I’m guessing that’s where it all started to go pear shaped. I put the light of our Lord in his eyes, and he held up his hands and buggered off. Just like that, quick as a wink. He’s there and then he’s not.

Without much else to do, and a bit worried he might be upset now that one of us had stuck him with an axe, we went off following more tracks. These led us to a pond. After a bit of prodding, the ghostie woman managed to pull out a few human skulls and other bones, which was a bit unlucky as my hired man, Girly, had just had a drink from it.

Oh yes. Sometime before that, we’d found a net made of fog laid out on the ground, with a big joint of meat in the middle. My guess was the Spaniard was trying to trap the devil cat. Scary, the ghostie lady, ate the whole bloody thing. I couldn’t believe it. Then, somebody wrapped the misty net on a stick and brought it along.

So, at any rate, here comes the Spaniard again whiles were at the pond pulling out bones. He’s got out some kind of crystal ball, and he looks none too happy. Flip goes the net, and Bob’s your uncle, the Spaniard’s bagged. Then ghostie hit him with her axe again. We carry him back to the abbey, and go to see the abbot. Completely ignoring all the trouble we’d taken, and the risk to our own bodily health as well, not to mention the bloody sheep, the abbot was bound and determined to fix his eye on how the Spaniard might have been trying to capture the devil cat, and how we’d then been a bit rough with him. Well there’s thanks for you.

Later on, we went back out to the Spaniard’s bone hut and knocked the hand out of the magic circles, purely by accident, let me assure you. There started rising a bilious smoke out of the earth, so we scarpered off back to the abbey. I’m pretty sure the diabolical laughter I heard coming from the direction of the hut was something unrelated.

Now here I am taking my ease at the Blue Rabbit. There are some unfortunate ladies here in desperate need of my charity, so I’ve agreed to give them a few coins for their hard works. I may also have a bit of drink.

Nicodemus Dirt

2012-01-19T08:46:00.002-05:00

It was Monday, 16 January, and four from the fields we know found themselves in view of the ruined castle. The caravan had stopped again, and wouldn't move til dawn. Blixa, Darf, Dodekatheon Spider Priest, and The Intrepid Randy all stood ready. They hired one of the caravan outriders, Gunter, to come along as a man at arms.

They chose to enter the Great Hall again, inside the inner bailey. Perplexed by the absence of the remembered windows on the side of the edifice, Blixa made his way up the rope to the ruined 2nd floor. From there, they found the stairway down into the centre of the building. Emerging into a leaf-strewn corridor, they decided to examine a new area, the room opposite the stairs.

Gingerly opening one of the several doors into the room, they saw a massive, once-grand throne room. Either side, under twin stone balconies, they saw huge stone statues, 12 feet high. The reluctant but well-payed Gunter steeled himself and walked toward the distant thrones, at his employers' request. Half the distance had been trod, when the statues began to shed their stony countenance. Now giants of flesh with sparkling blades, they converged on the hapless travelers.

Thinking quickly, Randy brought forth the preserved head of Vanessa the Medusa. Despite their obvious resistance to being turned again to rock, five of the giants were frozen in stone. The remaining trio hammered into the travelers. After a hard pitched battle, and the heroics of Abe the talking hound, the giants had fallen. But so had the Spider Priest's trusty manservant, Ike. Not wanting his sacrifice to be in vain, they piled his split remains on the thrones to test them for oddities.

And oddities they found. Opening behind the thrones, a steep stair gaped downward into darkness. The travelers were not staid by this, but plunged into the black abyss. Following a long and winding stair and passages, they managed to uncover a guardpost manned by fearsome bugbears. Randy stoned half their complement, cowing the rest.

My GM Questionnaire

2012-01-18T09:48:00.002-05:00

I am filling out my GM questionnaire. I did not use number 2 pencil.

1. If you had to pick a single invention in a game you were most proud of what would it be?
This is kind of a tough one, right off the bat, because I'm thinking back through all my games since 1988. The ones earlier.. didn't invent much. I suppose it would be the giant mega-roomscalator from hell. Sort of like an escalator, but made of small rooms that tilt and climb. You end up going through a door each time a room stops tilting, to go into the next room. Each time you open a door, a new monster is waiting there for you. That's where Hannibal contracted tiger-lycanthropy.

2. When was the last time you GMed?
Monday night, 16 January, 2012. My players were Zak Smith, Jason Kielbasa, Roger Burgess and Cameron McGowan.

3. When was the last time you played?
Last night, 17 January, 2012. I played in Chris Kutalik's Hill Cantons.

4. Give us a one-sentence pitch for an adventure you haven't run but would like to.
Planescape's Sigil is Oliver Twist's London, with Oliver Reed from 1968, and the players have to find and recover an artifact in the city before the band of thieves do it.

5. What do you do while you wait for players to do things?
They wait for me more than I wait for them. This is known as a Bad Thing. When I do wait for them, I cook up funky turns for them.

6. What, if anything, do you eat while you play?
I always used to eat Igor's Piroshkis with extra cheese on top. They stopped making them, and all you can get now are those damn little hot pocket abominations. Thus, I no longer eat while gamemastering.

7. Do you find GMing physically exhausting?
Unfortunately, I find everything physically exhausting, since I have fibromyalgia. GMing actually helps me forget the pain for a while, which is pretty damn sweet.

8. What was the last interesting (to you, anyway) thing you remember a PC you were running doing?
Father Jack, upon realising the party was being charged by two Nehwonian Ghuls inside a golden Melnibonean war barge, grabbed two big fluffy satin pillows and threw them at the ghuls' feet in an attempt to trip them. Party fumbles ensued.

9. Do your players take your serious setting and make it unserious? Vice versa? Neither?
So far, players have injected precisely the right balance of jocularity. One slip and it's off with your heads.

10. What do you do with goblins?
Personally, I roast them slowly while basting with a mix of hearty yet piquant spices. In my games, it is more varied. So far in my OD&D Greyhawk game they all wear red caps, dyed in human blood. Some of them look like Pathfinder goblins, and some others they've met look like Labyrinth goblins. Minus David Bowie and The Codpiece of Doom. They are cheery and dumb, and have proven rather amusing to talk with. They tend to have Stoogesque arguments among themselves. In my Castle Nicodemus game so far, they look like the goblins from the Rankin/Bass Hobbit. Only a statue of one, or perhaps a victim of petrifaction, has been found as yet.

11. What was the last non-RPG thing you saw that you converted into game material (background, setting, trap, etc.)?
I can't say the last thing, because that would be telling. Previous things = 60s TV show The Prisoner, The King of Elfland's Daughter by Dunsany, Cher.

12. What's the funniest table moment you can remember right now?
A new player (character named Jack) joined the party by seeing members of the group appear out of nothing as they exited a Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion. He maintained they were demons. One of the party (character named Tom) embarked on a 20 minute debate, roleplaying in character, trying to convince Jack that, in fact, he, Jack himself was the demon. By the time Tom was done, Jack pretty much believed he was actually a demon, and had sworn an oath to Tom on a dagger made out of spinal column.

13. What was the last game book you looked at--aside from things you referenced in a game--why were you looking at it?
Planescape - The Planewalker's Handbook. I was reading it just because it's interesting.

14. Who's your idea of the perfect RPG illustrator?
I can't decide between Simon Bisley and Rodney Matthews.

15. Does your game ever make your players genuinely afraid?
It has before, back in my face-to-face days. It was very rewarding.

16. What was the best time you ever had running an adventure you didn't write? (If ever)
I ran Dyson's Goblin Gulch in my Labyrinth Lord Eberron game. Excellent.

17. What would be the ideal physical set up to run a game in?
Big round table, easy to control lighting for spookability, computer handy for music, sounds, visual aids, and references like Wikipedia.

18. If you had to think of the two most disparate games or game products that you like what would they be?
1st Ed. AD&D and The Window.

19. If you had to think of the most disparate influences overall on your game, what would they be?
Coop's Devil Girls and The Wind in The Willows.

20. As a GM, what kind of player do you want at your table?
Someone intelligent with a good sense of humor.

21. What's a real life experience you've translated into game terms?
Exploring in the woods.

22. Is there an RPG product that you wish existed but doesn't?
Not really. Many I want are out of print, however.

23. Is there anyone you know who you talk about RPGs with who doesn't play? How do those conversations go?
My wife. She's interested in what I have to say, and sometimes gives me ideas, but remains adamant that it's "not her thing."

Thanks Zak, for getting me motivated to at least write something this morning.

Planet Caravan

2012-01-05T21:08:00.001-05:00

This week Migellito's caravan was transporting Blixa & Abe the Talking Dog, Leo the enormous holy knight with the strength of ten men, Darf the Dwarf, Taurus Clown-at-Arms, Farley the Dwarf, and Stanley Serpenthelm. As so often happens on this trip, their path through the Black Forest found them in the eaves of a far different wood. Answering the temptation of the nearby ruins of Castle Nicodemus, they set out on their own and decided to explore the old main hall.

The Gypsy Woman

They literally danced past the guardian door, and then finally got a chance to employ the Standard Anti-Voltron Maneuver. Taxidermy heads proved small obstacle to their determination, and they were rewarded with an 800 pound marble. Which no-one in the caravan wanted to buy. Hopefully, they have more luck selling it back in The Fields We Know.

Fortunately, however, the large deck of thick bone plaques was quite hurriedly and eagerly snapped up by the gypsy woman who tends to travel with the caravan. She is very grateful for adventurers.

An Entry to Anglia

2011-12-18T10:53:00.000-05:00

Traveling west from The Dark Country to Wessex, your caravan boss this time is an enigmatic man with long black hair and long black mustachios. He claims to be Italian, and goes only by the name Migellito. You believe you are somewhere in the Black Forest when you notice it has become much darker. The vaporous air hangs in an aphotic curtain. Passing through this preternatural twilight, you journey through trees grown rugose and monstrous, glowering down over your caravan. Lurid hints of golden light creep and lurk behind the wood’s black boles. The gloom-heavy forest splits, and you look out onto grey undulant hills hunched beneath a leaden sky. A damp and forbidding chill crawls along the turf and embraces you.

The caravan was bound west, but you have emerged going east. In the distance to the north you see the smoke of a small village. In the distance to the south you see a group of hills crowned with the sprawling scattered bones of a ruined castle.

Migellito speaks, telling you “this has happened before.” He points to the smoke. “There lies Bridgewater. It holds a smithy and an inn. What else, I do not know, nor do I wish to.” He points to the ruins. “There lies Nicodemus Castle. Some who chance there don’t return. Those who do bear heavier pockets, on the balance of it. We make camp here, and with the dawn we turn back into the forest and on to the lands we know. Do as you wish, but the caravan leaves at dawn.”

Black Goat of The Woods

2011-12-09T05:44:00.001-05:00

You have trouble defining the feeling of these woods. They are not necessarily evil. They are.. Wrong.

When seen from a distance this goat looks unusual, but not impossible. It is dark. Black, in fact. It has 4 horns, which normal goats sometimes have. There is something disturbing about its back.

When you can see it properly, you see the dozens and dozens of moving eyes on its back and shoulders. The eyes are of many sizes. They gaze in many different directions. You dare not look closely enough to see if they are of many colours. Then you see the many mouths opening and closing.

Then you see the intermittent dripping. The dripping of eyes. The eyes slide down its sable hide to the ground and grow. They grow and transform.

1d6 eyes and mouths slide from the goat's back and shoulders each round, each growing to a full Spawn of Shub-Niggurath in one round. The goat itself is an avatar of Shub-Niggurath, and as such is virtually indestructible. As an instantiation of the Old Ones, it is also all but oblivious to mundane creatures, such as adventurers. Due to its constant propagation, it is horribly easy to follow its trail, though perhaps unwise to do so.

Messing With Magic Again

2011-12-01T13:39:00.001-05:00

Little gnomes stay in their homes.

I’ve gone over this ground before, but today I’m riding it on a different horse. In getting ready to run a hangout game on G+, I needed to make a decision about two main things. Magic and hobbits.

It isn’t that I don’t like hobbits. I think hobbits are great. I love their anachronistic lifestyle, with waistcoats and sideboards and grandfather clocks plopped in the middle of a medieval milieu. However, I also think hobbits only really belong in Tolkien’s Middle Earth. Sure, there are little tiny people in lots of legends and myths and tales, but they’re not really hobbits. Leprechauns and brownies and hobgoblins are not hobbits. Hobbits are setting-specific.

Now back when I ran my old old game, I said it took place on Middle Earth.. just not a part of Middle Earth anywhere remotely near the events of the books. This let me put in hobbits and other things with a clear conscience. I think I’d like to distance myself from that idea though, and have events take place in their own world. Thus, for now at least, no hobbits. Instead, folk-myth gnomes. Smaller than hobbits, remotely similar anachronistic lifestyle, living in and under trees instead of in and under hills. A big difference is that these little gnomes aren’t skittish about adventures or magic.

That’s sorted! Now for magic.

The problem with magic is the same. The system used by DnD throughout most of the game’s history, and used also by the overwhelming majority of similar games, is setting-specific. The idea of only being able to hold, like bees in a jar, a certain number of spells within one’s mind, and then having them disappear to blankness upon casting, is very interesting. It makes spellcasters engage in some strategic decisions, which is a good and interesting thing. However, I also think it only really belongs in Vance’s Dying Earth. The majority of magic in old legends and tales just isn’t done that way.

The problem with all the ideas I was having about how to deal with magic boil down to pretty much one issue. How do I keep magic from being overused without adding more mechanics to the game? Spellcasters in stories clearly have something against blasting a zillion spells around all the time. Something to do with the balance of nature and not wanting to incur the wrath of chaos or dark outer gods or something, I’m sure. Spell points are too fiddly, I’ve decided. Besides, what are those points measuring? Fatigue of some kind? Fabled spellcasters only seem fatigued after certain specific things, not just everything. On the other hand, I hate it when perfectly interesting spells go unused for ages and ages because the likelihood of needing them is so low.

Here’s what I came up with!

Casters use the memorisation tables in the rules they’re currently using. For an OD&D magic-user, for example, this means 1 first level spell at 1st level, 2 first level spells at 2nd level, etc. They also say which specific spells they have prepared, just like usual.

But!

Their prepared spells are just the ones they have at the front of their mind, ready at a moment. They can, instead, cast any other spell they know of the same level, but at twice the casting time. Have Sleep prepared and want to cast Charm Person instead? No problem, but it will take you 2 rounds to cast that Charm Person instead of just 1. A big difference when death is on the line!

What if your 2nd level magic-user has already cast two 1st level spells and needs to cast another? Same thing - it will take double the casting time to get it off. That’s not all though. For exceeding that spells-per-level number on the memorisation chart, you need to roll a good old fashioned save vs. spells when you cast it. If you make the save, no worries. Fail the save, and you have to roll on a spell failure table. Instead of creating extra work, rolling on a table if you fail should just create some anxiety and suspense, which are great things for a game.

Ooh, a table!

No, I didn’t make one of my own yet. I’ve seen several out there that looked pretty neat. If you’ve made a spell failure table for some reason, stick a link to it in the comments down there. :)

This also works if you want to let spellcasters attempt spells which are beyond their current ability, something which happens in the stories now and then. Apply penalties to the save vs. spells depending on how far beyond their abilities they’re trying go. I wouldn’t allow a 20 to always succeed in this case, either.

One more thing I’ve decided. A character can only benefit from one casting of any specific healing spell once per day. Once Dilbod has been healed by a Cure Light Wounds, the magic needs some time to sink in before another Cure Light Wounds will have any effect on him, regardless of who casts it. A different spell, like Cure Serious, could help him some more before tomorrow though. This may be fairly harsh, but I think it’s necessary if I’m giving casters a way to exceed their limits. I’ll allow people to bind open (only) wounds to stop bleeding and get back 1hp, once for each combat in which they get themselves hurt.

Gren post 16

2011-11-21T20:31:00.001-05:00

The passage had made several shallow descents as it turned about within the carven mountain of the fortress. Now, though, the light was considerably dimmer, and the decline they were starting down was much steeper. They were plunging downward at an angle of what he guessed to be about three and half to four feet down for every ten feet forward. He saw no more doorways now, and wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd seen the last one. There were no turns in this descent either.

It had been growing extremely dark, and he had nearly lost sight of the white robes, though they were close in front of him. Why it wasn't entirely pitch black, he couldn't guess, but he could still barely make out the corners of the walls and floor. Even though it was a descent, it was steep enough that it was becoming tiring. Veer-Jhavhan must have sensed his effort, as he said "nearly there... we can have a short rest then... not long though."

He remembered back to the early part of his journey, before he met the nomads, when he had stopped at the alchemist, Abognazzar, and gotten his elixir. He had been forced to bargain hard, and press him for more, to have enough for this journey. It hadn't proved to be enough after all.

Abognazzar?! Why hadn't Finghus realised the alchemist's name at the time? That was what the ticket man had said, wasn't it?

Most of the elixir had been lost with his mount, and the last of the remaining vial was used up yesterday. He depended on it for what little physical strength he had, and it was now quickly leaving him.

There was a faint glow growing ahead of them. Soon, they could see flat, apparently sunlit floor stretching out beyond the opening of the passage. At first the bright glare seemed to be the same as that in the first great hall, but getting nearer he could tell it wasn't nearly as bright, nor was the stone white. He didn't doubt that it had been white at one time, for all that surrounded him was still uniformly carved from a single mountainous mass, but something had discoloured the surface ahead, leaving smoothly delineated swathes of rusty yellow and brown.

How to Scare Your Players

2011-10-31T15:06:00.000-04:00

Because, after all, it really is pointless to try to scare the characters.

It’s a natural function of the human mind to want to understand and classify what it experiences. When a person is unable to do this, they begin to experience anxiety. This, my dear dungeon master, is your goal tonight.

A good example of this is the first Phantasm movie. Perhaps I should say ‘my recollection of the first Phantasm movie,’ because I haven’t seen it in a really long time. During the movie there are a ton of things you don’t know:
What are the silver balls, besides deadly?
What the heck ARE those little short dudes?
Why are they killing people?
What do they want with the bodies?
I found the movie really frightening, probably more frightening than Ringu or Juon, and it had ZERO to do with blood. Probably one of the most frightening I’d ever seen. Compare that with one of the later entries in the series, wherein they explain very fully exactly what the little jawa looking dudes are, where they’re from, and why they want to kill people. It was no longer frightening at all. Not in the least.

My players once encountered a vampire. Like any good vampire, he had a personality and didn’t just pop into a dungeon somewhere. They visited him after being warned not to, because he had information they desperately wanted. I showed them a picture of Emile Zola sitting at his desk. He was charming and helpful, but also very odd. They knew something was up, and they were well on the way to convincing themselves he was a vampire by the time hints started getting laid down during the dinner to which he invited them. They were looking for signs. They had already noticed (because one of them specifically asked, not due to observation roll) there were no mirrors in the parts of the house they’d seen so far. They tried to see his reflection in the silverware, but damned if the candlelight and things on the table prevented them from getting a clear look.

This is when you poke a hole in their attempt to classify and understand.

“Is the silverware actually silver?”
me - “You’re pretty sure it is.”
“Is he touching it? A vampire couldn’t touch it, could he?”
me - “The tales you remember say that silver is very harmful to vampires.” Notice I didn’t say ‘All the tales you’ve heard.’ Introduce as much self-doubt as possible.
[more conversation about the McGuffin, while they stew over clues]
me - “He picks up his spoon and chimes his wine glass with it a couple times. The crystal rings out with a beautiful clear note.”
“A silver spoon?!”
me - “It looks just like yours.”

During dinner, the host (even the players have become reluctant to call him The Vampire now) never quite manages to take a bite of the food or a drink of the wine, due to conversation. At one point he even has food on his fork, but puts it down to talk. Yes, I answer, the food does indeed taste like it might have garlic in it.

The underlying systems have to be clear-cut and well defined. Explained and classified. It’s very important that you know exactly what things are, and why they’re that way. It then becomes your job to always keep this information just out of reach, just barely behind the veil, no matter how much you’d like to share it. Get your players to the point where they are absolutely brimming with questions, and then respond to them.. without answering any of them. At least not for sure, and certainly not a simple yes or no.

Then you hide the source of the anxiety. The master retires for the evening. The device sinks into the wall, and it seals up like it was never there. The children go around a corner and vanish. The wizard disappears in a puff of smoke. After the players have a chance to discuss and explore a bit, it’s now time for some incongruent meaningless hints. Odd noises, strange smells, an odd powder or fluid on the wall/floor/ceiling.. things that might mean anything. To you they should make perfect sense.. to the players they should be vague enough to further a dozen different suspicions without confirming any of them. Repeat until their anxiety peaks, then just after it starts to go down a bit.. HIT EM. The vampire attacks, the portal opens, the spawn of Shub-Niggurath pours out of the spear holes.

The most important thing to remember is that you will be tempted, and that you, the DM, must resist this temptation. You will know all the superawesomeneato details of who the professor is, how the dark ones open the door, and why the madman constructed the box.. but no matter how cool it is, or how proud you are of it, you can’t tell! Shhh!

Happy Halloween, and good luck!

You Meet in an Inn

2011-10-28T18:26:00.001-04:00

Lame.

Even so, you've used it. You didn't want to, but everybody had their characters rolled up, and you had to do something. Next time you're starting a campaign from scratch, and you're at a loss for how the characters meet, try one of these.

Can you think of another one? I'm sure you can, you're smart. Type it in the comments, and I'll add it to the list. I may tweak it a little, but what the hell.

You are all in jail together.
You all heard rumors of treasure, and you meet at the dungeon entrance. There is a man camping there who hires out as a lantern-bearer.
You are all captives of kobolds, goblins, bandits, etc. inside the dungeon. You were waylaid and brought here while unconscious, and your things are in a room nearby.
You all have copies of the same wanted poster.
You are all related, or grew up together.
You all served in the military or town guard together.
A local ruler, merchant or official has put out a call for mercenaries, and you are the ones who have answered.
Townsfolk inundate the inn, seeking help from all the guests. Insert 7 Samurai.
You all wake up together, lying on individual altar stones in a darkened room. A faint smell of ozone hangs in the air. In the floor of the room wisps of smoke rise from a charred corpse partially melted into the stone. A corpse with what appears to have been a sacrificial dagger clenched tightly in one hand.
You are all summoned to the reading of a recently departed friend/relative/colleague's will.
You are all traveling with the same merchant caravan when...
You are shopping in the local market when a giant ship's anchor drops from the sky, smashing a nearby market stall.
You are survivors of a ship wreck.
You wake up naked, buried in a pile of naked corpses. (stolen from Zak S.)
You are brought together by a major event (refugees from a flood, plague, earthquake, zombie apocalypse, pirate attack, etc.)
You are all outlaws, and are members of a bandit group.
Goblins attack your hamlet. Your parents' old weapons are in your houses. Defend the town!
You are all cursed, and have come together at a wizard's tower to perform a quest so that he will remove the curse.
You are all members of the caravan guard on a trek across the desert to an exotic city of traders.
You meet at a party.
You are all students of the local adventurer's guild. This is your final test before you're thrown out in the world on your own resources.
You all get strange (different) notes inviting you to the same place. The notes make some kind of sense when put together.
You're all dead, and will adventure in hell or the outer planes.

Random Backgrounds

2011-10-21T17:07:00.000-04:00

Unlike many of my tables, I'll try to make this one more general so it can be used over and over. This means it will require a lot more spur-of-the-moment icing from the DM (or player, depending on how it's used.) With that in mind, I may keep working to expand it a bit, probably in the style of Zak's multi-part tables in Vornheim. One thing about the table: the emphasis is on prior, so some glaring occupational holes exist where a background would necessitate a more profound effect on the character's current lifestyle. Also, if a background is more common in your milieu, have it occupy more spots in the table. Remember when doing so that it signifies a background which is both commonly held, and commonly left behind (thus the 'prior'.)

Prior Character Background

Disgraced Noble
Military
Sailor
Travelling Merchant
Shopkeeper
Caravan Guard
Servant
Bandit
Farmer
Farmer
Farmer
Builder
Clergy
Fisherman
Woodsman
Beggar
Entertainer
Laborer
Laborer
Courier
Miner
Husbandman
Disgraced Scholar
Criminal
Criminal
Criminal
Student
Civil Servant
Scribe
Professional Crowdgoer
Town Guard
Tanner
Miller
Military
Courtesan
Bon Vivant

What did I miss? Remember that entries like 'builder' can mean anything from carpenter to mason to boatwright. Also, I've avoided professions like blacksmith and jeweler, since they would have a more profound effect on the character's current life and abilities. Some things, like 'scholar' or 'wizard' probably wouldn't have much turnover.

-Edited to add some suggestions from comments. Town Guard could mean any police-like or security-related job. Civil Servant would include such jobs as the much-storied rat catcher. A Disgraced Scholar could be any teacher, scientist, historian, etc. A Husbandman could be any animal-related job, such as stableboy. A Shopkeeper is anyone employed in a storefront: butcher, baker, candlestick maker, barber, chemist, etc. A tinker, for example, could either be a Shopkeeper or a Travelling Merchant.

Open the pod bay doors!

2011-09-15T13:16:00.002-04:00

My computer took a critical hit to the hard drive, and I was unable to buy a new one. Due to the generosity of a friend, I just got a used machine. I will be getting back up to speed soon!

Crossbows Underground

2011-05-17T11:33:00.000-04:00

Something obvious occurred to me just now. Bows send arrows in an arc, thus archery. Therefore, having their range converted from yards to feet underground makes perfect sense. Crossbows are favoured by underground denizens because quarrels don't arc - they depend on a relatively straight trajectory, more like a firearm. Therefore, crossbows should get to retain their range in yards underground, thereby conferring an appropriate reason to select crossbows for dungeon situations.

The Big Move

2011-05-04T08:47:00.000-04:00

Our move is almost done! Of course, done in this case means a lot of stuff is in a storage unit and there are tons of boxes all over our new house and furniture in strange places - like a 7 foot TV armoire in our kitchen. But, most of the boxes are out of our old place, so I should be back to normal inconsistency instead of protracted absence by the weekend. Whee!

E is for Erstwhile Ended Entry Effluvia

2011-04-22T12:53:00.000-04:00

It's a good thing I had the presentiment to not sign up Explicitly for the daily post alphabet challenge. We've been in various stages of trying to get into a new Edifice for a little over two months now, and it's kept my output even more Economical than usual. But, it's finally at an End, and we Exchange money for keys later today! Excelsior!!

Although this Equivocally means that my Efficacy will actually further Erode for a while, it also means that after a week or so it will Escalate and Expand to a much greater, Even daily, proliferation.

Enyway..

In coming up with a couple more names for unplanned npcs in my Greyhawk game, I realised something enter.. er.. interesting. I like making non-player characters. It entertains me. My favourite part of making them, and generally the only thing I do to make them, is coming up with a name and personality.

I don't roll stats at all unless I absolutely have to. Even for a man-at-arms hired by the party, I eschew stats. He or she gets their attack roll based on their level, which is most likely zero-level-human, and that's pretty much it. In the incredibly rare instance that an ability check is needed, I assume it's an 11 unless I've already established there is something unusual about them. What about hit points? Well, level one fighting-men get a d6 in ODnD. Goblins are a d6-1. Goblins are able to drive peasants before them, whilst enjoying the lamentation of the women. Thus, here is the simple breakdown on ye common folke. Children, elderly, infirmed - 1hp; clerks, maids, typical townies - 2hp; farmers, laborers, healthy lads and lasses - 3hp; the burly blacksmith and other buff stereotypes - 4hp.

I got a little sidetracked, but it went in an acceptable direction. Back to names! I enjoy making up names and personalities. I have no trouble making up diverse personalities, and there are some great tables out there if I did. I should come back and edit this to give a ballyhoo to a couple of them.. With names, even though I love inventing them, I sometimes worry that since it's one person coming up with all the names of all the npcs, they will begin to sound like they're all cousins.

Today, while making two names for a couple hired spearmen that I hadn't foreseen, I thought "hey, I'm trying to make this as much a Gygaxian Greyhawk as possible.. how did he come up with names?" Easy - in addition to the much-discussed anagrams, he used lots of old obscure archaisms, oft times adjusted a bit. This has the added bonus of enjoying some synchronicity with Gene Wolfe's writing, so that makes it feel even better. Thus, I now share a few great links to aid in this method of coming up with proper nouns for a campaign.

Grandiloquent Dictionary

Luciferous Logolepsy

Strange and Unusual Dictionaries

Worthless Word FOR the Day

Enjoy!

Masterthief

2011-04-16T16:35:00.000-04:00

Lots of great discussion and synergistic ideas are clicking around the osr about lock picking and trap disarmament. So far:
Rather Gamey
Telecanter
Zak Smith
Roger the GS
-C

One thing that occurred to me was the similarity between some of these procedures and playing an old game of Mastermind. Every time I played Mastermind with my dad, he won. He always won chess too. Smartest person I ever met :)

Mastermind Info at Wikipedia

So, to use Mastermind for picking locks or disarming traps, it's pretty easy to vary the difficulty. You don't have to use all four slots. The fewer slots used, the easier the lock. Also, you don't have to use all the colours. The fewer colours used, the easier the lock, although I would suggest a minimum of 3 colours. The third way to adjust the difficulty is by limiting how many guesses (how many turns) are allowed before the thief fails the attempt. Failure meaning, of course, either jamming the lock or setting off the trap.

The only thing remaining for this method, then, is to assign some appropriate terms to the different elements of the Mastermind game.

The standard version has 6 different colours for the code pegs. I'm going to assume the colours might be different depending on the individual set one happens to have, so I'll list it out this way. Once you assign a colour to a technique, it should stay that way for all your locks. The basic lock techniques discussed on the other blogs above would require using 4 (and only 4) colours.

colour a - bump
colour b - probe
colour c - rake
colour d - twist
colour e - undulate
colour f - flick

It also has two different colours for feedback pegs, often black and white. These are the pegs the DM will use to simulate what the thief finds out about the lock as he's making his attempt.

black key peg - you used the right technique at the right time
white key peg - you used a technique appropriate for this lock, but you used it at the wrong time
left open (blank) - you used the wrong technique!

So, in this method the coloured clue pegs stand for different picking techniques. What do the slots stand for? Well, not tumblers. Generally, if I understand Wikipedia correctly, most locks are just one tumbler, or at least one tumbler per keyhole. A tumbler has multiple pins, but usually more than four. Thus, the four slots simply stand for how many techniques it takes to open it, or basically how complex the lock is on a scale of 1 to 4. The number of guesses allowed (lines on the board) shows how forgiving the lock is. Something made by gnomes to be highly pick-resistant might only allow 3 or 4 guesses. Some locks may require special techniques that most locks don't, thus using more colours of clue pegs.

How about Telecanter's example where an experienced thief just knows you should never bump a dwarven lock? Easy. If it's a dwarven lock, the DM doesn't put any bump-coloured pegs behind the codemaker screen on the board. Then it's up to the DM and player as to whether the player realises it's a dwarven lock, and knows what to avoid.

Now for the Suspense!!
Each line on the Mastermind board, each guess, takes one round of game time. This is where it really becomes exciting, because everyone knows that the thief picking the lock on the door to the escape route only has 4 minutes before that bugbear guard comes back this way on his patrol! Can he do it?!! They all want him to hurry, but they have to stay quiet!! Every time it's not right, that bugbear gets one minute closer!!! Or that insane cultist has nearly finished summoning Tsathoggua, and every round spent trying to put the right coloured pegs in the right holes to pick the lock on the Necronomicon brings the yawning black gulfs of terror one round closer!!!!
Are you excited yet?!!!?!

If you want to give an experienced thief more clues to reflect their knowledge, use their pick-locks chance (or disarm, as appropriate) to get hints. When you see a black key peg, for example, the picker usually only knows they used a correct technique at the right time (put the right colour peg in the correct hole.) They don't know which step (hole) they got right, they just know they made progress. If they roll under their chance, maybe they do know which step they got right, thereby drastically reducing how long it will take them to finish the lock. Many other types of hints are possible too, perhaps even allowing the thief to know which technique to start with (which colour to put in the first hole) just by recognising the type of lock.

P D eFfery

2011-04-13T18:03:00.000-04:00

The ever-stylish and informative Matthew has brought the light of handy pdf-any-post goodness into our dark little corner of the universe. Visit Rended Press to partake in the greatness.

Tekumel 11

2011-04-12T13:39:00.000-04:00

After you untie him, Chk-chk, the undead tinaliya, slowly sloshes up into a sitting position. He rises in a disturbingly mechanical way, a single slow motion, as though his muscles are merely tools and don't have the normal sensations of a living thing. He twists his head back to you in the same unnerving manner. "This is a labor.. labor.. laboratory of the Old Ones. Food may be anywhere, depending on what you are willing to eat. I do not think I need to eat anymore."

The small creaking creature slides down onto the floor, and walks over to the bejeweled metal table next to the first platform. "I do not understand this." He begins walking toward the archway into the room filled with unusual items and equipment, saying "what is in here?"

Engravings, Etchings and Embellishments

2011-04-11T00:09:00.000-04:00

"..and its surface is covered with engraving. It looks like.."

The flowing script of an archaic language. If interpreted, it details part of the history of an ancient society, including clues to their lost city.
Circles and arcs of varying size and width, with ornate symbols. A wizard or astrologer will recognize it as alignments of planets, stars and planes.
Arcane sigils and glyphs, which form a still-potent magical ward.
The chiseled runes of dwarven master craftsmen. If interpreted, it contains metallurgy hints.
Intertwining vines and leaves.
Symbols, twisting script and repulsive depictions of evil rituals.
The symbol and heraldry of a Great Kingdom, the rule of which once included this area.
Repeating geometric patterns.
Weird shapes & pentacles, and strange symbols & script, arranged in patterns which a mage or cleric can tell was intended to contain an otherworldly entity.
Intertwining serpents.
Arabesque patterns of lines and ornate curves.
Circles and triangles of glyphs, narrow angular lines and patterns of tiny circles, all glowing with a dim light. If the surface is broken, the engravings continue to occupy the same points in space as before.
The story of the ascension of a deity, depicted in intertwining consecutive images.
Faces. Unless you look directly at it - then it just looks like chaotic lines and shapes.
The hieroglyphs of an ancient empire which covered the lands all around. Those who are able may read of their society, and perhaps be forewarned of an ancient curse.
The text of a recent religious tract, but illustrated with forbidden rites.
Stylized flowers, acorns, leaves and pine cones.
Lines of crude atavistic pictographs. Given time and perspicacity, anyone might glean their meaning.
Warriors and athletes of an ancient civilization.
Nightmare depictions of Elder Gods and ungulate horrors from the black gulfs of chaos. Save versus insanity.

Doors

2011-04-10T00:06:00.000-04:00

“We go around the corner.. what do we see?”
“After another twenty feet, you see what seems to be a door. It is...

Solid Iron with a one foot square window. The window has iron bars, and sits at a height of 5 feet. It opens away from the party with a locking latch handle on the left. Hinges are on the side away from the party, on the right.
Heavy iron-bound wood. It opens toward the party, with a simple round iron pull hanging from the centre of the door. It possesses no lock, but is stuck tight in its frame. The party can see the hinges, on the left.
A collection of old boards across an old door opening, nailed into the wooden frame. Roll to open normally to burst through.
A rough stone cave opening, natural and un-worked.
An empty archway, carved with ornate patterns and glyphs. Attempting to pass through will loudly damage one with electricity, unless the warding glyphs are dealt with.
Heavy iron-bound wood. It opens away from the party, and no means of opening, hinges, or other hardware are visible from the party’s side. It hinges to its frame on the right.
Solid stone. No means of opening is apparent, but the unusually wide door pivots easily on its centre.
A round wooden door with a large brass knob in the centre. It opens away from the party, swinging on hinges on the right. It was painted once, but is now heavily scratched. A keyhole lies in the centre of the knob.
Solid iron with a turn-handle on the right. It opens toward the party, with visible hinges on the left. A lock sits above the handle, only on the party’s side.
Heavy iron-bound wood. It opens away from the party. Unseen by the party are hinges on the other side, on the right. On the party’s side, a simple iron handle is on the left. Unbeknownst to the party, a heavy bar sits in brackets on the other side, preventing all but the strongest from breaking in.
Heavy iron-bound wood. It opens toward the party, with a simple iron handle on the right. Hinges lie on the left. Heavy iron chains are sunk into the 4 corners of the frame, and are joined by a large iron padlock at the centre of the door.
A thick mat of webs. It will take 10 minutes to cut through, or 1 minute to burn through.
Heavy iron-bound wood. It opens toward the party, with a simple iron handle on the right. Hinges lie on the left. Opening past 2/3 open sets off an arrow trap on the other side, firing 3 arrows at anyone in the doorway. Roll the arrow attacks as a monster with dice equal to the level on which the door is found.
Heavy wood, with an iron pull-ring in the centre. It opens away from the party, swinging on hinges on the right, which the party can’t see.
Heavy wood, with a simple iron pull handle on the left. It opens toward the party, on hinges to the right. A heavy wooden bar lies across the door in brackets on the party’s side. The door itself is stuck tight.
Solid iron with a turn-handle on the right. It opens toward the party, with visible hinges on the left. A lock sits above the handle, only on the party’s side. Turning the handle springs a hidden poisoned needle out of the door, scratching the hand. Failing a poison save results in death after a number of minutes equal to the victim’s constitution score. Success leaves an ominous burning sensation.
Heavy iron-bound wood. It opens away from the party. Unseen by the party are hinges on the other side, on the right. On the party’s side, a simple iron handle is on the left.
Heavy wood. It opens away from the party, and no means of opening, hinges, or other hardware are visible from the party’s side. It hinges to its frame on the right.
A series of heavy iron chains, hanging vertically. Both top and bottom are sunk into the surrounding material. The chains are four layers deep, each layer slightly offset, and one inch away from the layer next to it, so that it is nearly impossible to see through. A close light source on the other side will be apparent, however. Only those both strong and sveldt might be able to squeeze through, and would be ‘held’ in the chains for 4 to 8 minutes as they did so. A hidden catch releases each layer of chains at the bottom.
A heavy iron portcullis. The raising mechanism is out of sight on the side opposite the party. The bars are set close enough to prevent passage by anyone larger than a halfling child.

Tekumel 10

2011-04-09T17:37:00.000-04:00

The tinaliya finally produces some sound from it's moving beak, croaking "chk.. chk.. chk.. chk... my name is now Chk-chk" in a flat and unemotional drone.

The shen is encouraged somewhat by the fact this thing is speaking Shen. C'nor is surprised to hear his native tongue. Johannes hears the tinaliya's answer in German.

As you reach up to re-adjust the apparatus, Chk-chk says "may I get up first, master?"

My Troll Babe

2011-04-08T01:52:00.001-04:00

The Grumpy Old Troll is, of course, married to a Troll Babe. Not Ron Edwards' awesome game, which I can't recommend highly enough.

image by the awesome E James Heil

No, my own Troll Babe, who has just started up her own blog.

What Happens To Punk Girls When They Grow Up.

(it's a link^)

Chests for The Discerning Dungeon Master

2011-04-03T23:22:00.000-04:00

"Peruse our wide selection of fine containments."

1. The Black Dougal
2. The Standard - wooden barrel-top, bound in iron, unlocked.
3. The Ironsides - all-iron flat-top, locked. Our heaviest model.
4. Hat Box - leather covered wooden two-foot cube, flat-top, locked. Handle on top.
5. The Pirate - wooden dome-top, iron-bound, locked. Waterproof! With side handles for easy minion toting.
6. The Steamer - leather covered wooden flat-top. Brass-bound with locks and latches. Side handles. Pressure gauge and chronometer.
7. The Old Vic - iron-bound wooden dome-top, locked. Numerous trays, lined, decorative painting inside lid.
8. The Trickster - animate monster 'mimicing' a chest. Sharp!
9. The Russian - looks like our Standard, but blades spring from the bottom when opened.
10. The Toy Chest - like our Standard, with four legs! Walks as fast as a halfling. Caution - small decorative exterior items become real when removed.
11. The Hemingway - iron-bound wooden dome-top with lock. Front folds down into a writing desk. Compartments trapped with poison darts.
12. The Solo - like the Pirate, but false bottom hides a three inch deep compartment. (not waterproof)
13. The Trapdoor - looks like any of our other models, but built-in. Open bottom reveals steps down to next level. Opt for a trick bottom and it doubles as storage! (next dungeon level not included)
14. The God Box - iron-bound wooden dome-top, unlined. Locked. Closure opens a conduit to one random entity of power. Cannot be opened from inside, regardless of force. Opening or breakage severs the connection, though items or substances may be left behind. It is rumoured that special keys exist which will open the chest without severing the link. Keys may or may not be attuned to specific entities. (not sound proof)
15. Jack - looks like the Old Vic, but unlocked and tray-less. When opened, a young knight springs forth and attacks. 2 in 6 hold bards instead.
16. The Schrödinger - looks like our Hat Box, but able to resurrect cats. (note, we cannot guarantee cats are either alive or dead until the box is opened)
17. The Barker - brass-bound wooden cube. No apparent lid or opening method. Slides apart into two identical 'U' shaped parts.
18. The Barter Box - any item placed within vanishes when closed. Two openings later, something is in its place. For extra-large, specify The Caligari.
19. The Mason - all stone flat-top. Hinge-less chain and padlock closure.
20. Chest of Drawers - 4 foot by 2 foot iron-bound wooden dome-top. False bottom reveals wooden stairs leading down, starting at one end. Eight steps descend to a wooden extra-dimensional room, 8x8x8. Drawers of widely varying dimensions cover the walls from floor to ceiling. (light source not included, do not close while other extra-dimensional products are within)

Security of contents not guaranteed. Not responsible for damages or injury due to poison or transdimensional collapse.

Books Magical and Mundane

2011-04-02T21:38:00.000-04:00

"You see an ancient and musty tome before you. The cryptic writing on the cover resolves into.."

1. Zarathustra's Atlas - A massive folio volume with non-euclidean maps of the multiverse. Shows time-space locations of portals and gates, transitory, migratory and fixed. Several pages are enchanted with illusions to illustrate working models of worlds, systems and planes.
2. Gormenghast's Bestiary - Each page gives information about a different animal or monster. As soon as the book is opened to a page, an individual of that sort is instantly summoned forth.
3. The Vitiform Codex - As long as this heavy book is kept damp and exposed to at least four hours of sunlight each day, each page grows a different herb (loosely defined, may include fungi, etc.) Raised texture resembling vines pervades the volume, rising up into actual vines in the centre of the page to present the herb detailed on the opposing leaf - even those not generally associated with vines. If left on the ground for long enough, it will put down roots.
4. Holy Scripture - The sacred text of a local religion, but containing bits of heresy in several of the passages. Was this its original form? Includes several clerical spells within the writings.
5. The Book of Faces - Once a person, or a part of the person's body, has touched a blank page of this tome, a simple sketch of the person in their current environment will reside on that page when next the book is opened. Certain conditions and incantations can increase the quality of the image up to a fine painting. Though the image is unmoving, it will 'update' each time the book is opened.
6. Gnomes - A detailed study of a small, mostly woodland-dwelling people. Those in this volume are from six to twelve inches in height, and frequently wear pointed red hats. They make their homes inside trees, large mushrooms, or occasionally underground, biding their time and drinking their wine.
7. Piracy on The High Seas - Rather than a narrative account or record of legal codes, this unusual book proves to be a manual of instruction for prospective privateers and freebooters. Includes several Jolly Roger designs and advice for selecting parrots.
8. Pie - Recipes for a wide variety of sweet and savory pies. Several are purported to have effects similar to simple potions.
9. Ledger - The records of a local shop, business or bank. Examination will show a decided lack of honesty in the proceedings.
10. Journal - The first third of this book details the trials and tribulations of a group of explorers or adventurers, including a handful of maps. The hand of the writing changes suddenly about halfway through, then abruptly stops, leaving the remaining pages blank.
11. The Warlock of Zeveste - A fictional account of the adventures of a weretiger warlock, filled with dangerous trolls, scantilly clad women, thrilling sorcery, and narrow escapes.
12. Asenath's Art of Fine Brewing - Detailed information on the creation of a wide variety of beer, ale and mead. Includes guidelines for distilling faeries.
13. Science - A hand-written treatise on the basics of astronomy, physics, biology and chemistry. Trapped with a blinding curse.
14. On Faeries - A thick tome full of pressed faeries, pixies, sprites and more. Pressed between the pages, and annotated with text, much in the manner of a traditional herbal.
15. Dreams of Evaericar - This appears to be an old but unused journal, and is found with random coins tucked in the pages, totalling no more than 2 gold. If at least one copper coin is placed inside, then the book placed under one's head before going to sleep, more coins will be found within the next morning, totalling no more than 2 gold. Additionally, a narrative of all the sleeper's dreams for the previous night will be recorded on its pages. At some point within the first 1 to 8 nights, one of the unremembered dreams thus transcribed will be terribly disturbing, testing the sanity of the dreamer when they read it the next day. After one week of consecutive use, the sleeper will find themselves able to lucid dream. After one month, they will discover the 77 steps of lighter slumber, leading down to the cavern of flame. After sleeping with the book under their head for one year and one day, their physical body will be transferred to the dreamlands as they sleep, leaving the book behind, now blank.
16. A History of The Royal Family, by Telgar Vosk - A study of the royal family of a nearby kingdom. A thorough reading will reveal that the current ruler does not actually belong on the throne.
17. The Verses of Dimloth - A book of poetry. When opened, the pages generate a warm light in a five foot radius.
18. The Book of Ning - This ancient tome, bound in some questionable material, contains frenetic descriptions of a multitude of unwholesome rituals. Extended ritual versions of several magic-user spells are contained within.
19. Codex of The Silver Key - Careful study of this lengthy and sanity-trying volume will eventually empower the reader with knowledge of how to part the veils of reality. The gate thusly formed will lead to entities which must be entreated for passage to the desired destination. The entities themselves may well prove too much for all but the strongest minds to endure.
20. The King in Yellow - Once begun, the reader will find this convoluted and paradoxical manuscript of a play very difficult to put down. If the entire play is read, the reader is rendered irrevocably insane (although not necessarily unplayable.) See this link to convey partial details of the play to the unfortunate reader.

Accoutrements

2011-04-01T19:27:00.002-04:00

"The slippery bognad before you stands out amongst his kind. He's wearing a.."

1. Waistcoat - it may have been satin, silk or even velvet. Now it's just used.
2. Monocle - with a chain of brass, silver or gold.
3. Jeweled Leather Harness - criss-crossing his chest, the gems are surely paste. Or are they?
4. Lupin - like a feather in his cap. Only slightly wilted.
5. Eyepatch - black leather.
6. Tophat - black and slightly dinged and dingy.
7. Red Cape - may or may not be black on the outside.
8. Kilt - complete with sporran.
9. Pair of Long-Toed Curling Shoes - probably sans jester bells.
10. Liripipe Hood - independent of shirt or coat.
11. Bandolier - designed for darts.
12. Rope Belt - with pots, pans and utensils hanging from it.
13. Hollow Skull - as a helmet.
14. Pointed Hat - leather and creaky, with a stuffed reptile wound round.
15. Book - strapped flat to his chest.
16. Pennant - from a pole on his back.
17. Sack - over his head, with eyeholes cut out, and covered with runes.
18. Holy Symbol - of a random deity.
19. Pair of Striped Hose - separate for each leg.
20. Animal Fur - complete with head and claws.

Railroaded

2011-03-29T17:41:00.000-04:00

Yikes, another long dearth of blog posts. My genius is suck.

In my Labyrinth Lord version of Eberron, I find it entirely inappropriate to refer to the train as The Lightning Rail. I do like the fact that it exists. One of my first favourite films was the 70's Murder on The Orient Express with the huge raft of stars from the period, including Albert Finney as Poirot. I think Sean Connery was in it too. Anyway, I find the idea of the train itself to be a wonderful fantasy possibility, but the name makes little sense for a very compelling reason.

There are no rails.

The train moves along above a series of relatively small stone pyramids. This isn't an upgrade from a time when it ran on actual rails, and there are no other rail-utilising technologies screeching around Khorvaire. Somehow 'The Lightning Stones' or 'The Lightning Pyramids' just doesn't convey the idea of any kind of transport, let alone a train. So what should it be called?

I know! I'll turn to you, rarified niche of the internet! Please tell me what I should call The Lightning Rail.

Tekumel 9

2011-03-17T22:44:00.001-04:00

Inspect glassware and clockwork: 89
Get another corpse, tied up: 40
Open remaining boxes: 100
Try finding controls on the cabochon: 23
Examine the hat: 81
Prise out gems: 9

You press several of the other gemlike protrusions around the cabochon, testing them for possible removal as you do. They resist any attempt to loosen, and seem to have no response when touched. After cautiously manipulating it for a few minutes, you are left with the impression that you've had no effect. If the baroque and esoteric designs scribed into the surface truly divide it into sections, they seem to be only decorative, yet their form troubles you at an atavistic level. It is almost as though you can see them more clearly when not looking directly at them.

You head back into the room with the long row of occupied tables. The sheeted occupants await your experiments blithely. Another examination of the gemmed table at the near end discourages your attempts to pry any of the glittering morsels free, and you are left with merely attempting to manipulate them. Several begin glowing at your touch, but there seems to be little result. Remembering the precaution of tying one up, you select a table from the line and remove its cover. A short creature, less than a meter long is revealed. It has four bowed-out legs, two arms with three-clawed hands, and a bulbous midsection, now somewhat deflated-looking. It is one of the gnomic tinaliya. The enormous eyes above the beak-like mouth are a dead filmy grey. You bind it to the table, ripping the cover into strips to do so. The thick brown hide of the creature creaks as you tighten the bindings.

With some difficulty, you force past the will of those more wary within you and begin uncomfortably pressing the dull gems and spidery arms of the contraption on the ceiling above. Suddenly, almost as though a vein has been opened in the air itself, a column of shining blue-tinged blackness pours forth into the quiescent form. You are shocked backward. The small form tries to rise, struggling slowly against its bonds. As it moves, the bulbous little segments making up its body slosh disgustingly. It slowly turns its opaque dead-grey eyes on you and the beak-like mouth moves. No sound emerges.

Part of you wishes to immediately repair to the laboratory, busying yourself with instruments, alembics and coggery, but what will you do with this new arrival?

Location f of Entero Island

2011-03-08T03:27:00.000-05:00

f - the tower

The tower is a ruin. Its upper floors are long-destroyed, but still evidenced by jutting remnants of its outer shell and traces of stairway. It is now occupied by a wizard, one Rimbodd, who came to the island in search of the tower itself. It purportedly still held the spellbooks of its ancient master, but Rimbodd has never found them. He is marooned and has gone completely insane.

Rimbodd casts as a 5th level wizard, but his spell choices are entirely random. Whenever he casts a spell, for any reason, roll 1d3 to determine spell level. Then, roll randomly to determine which spell of that level he actually casts. His is not limited in the spells he might ‘know,’ nor is he limited in how many spells of each level he might cast in one day. He will remain convinced that any spell he casts was the perfect choice for the situation, but will then often (2in6) claim he is exhausted and curl into a deep slumber for 1d3 hours. Upon waking, he believes he must study his spellbooks and memorise his spells for the day. His spellbooks, despite his insistence to the contrary, are useless wrecks of waterlogged parchment, their writing blurred and unreadable. If somehow separated from his useless books, he will believe himself “Powerless and Doomed!”

Secreted in a small hidden compartment of the stone wall in the lowest level, once found by Rimbodd but now long-forgotten, is a small brass box with a hinged lid. Inside is a wand-sized length of deep black stone. At first glance it will seem to be obsidian, jet, or some other stone. With closer inspection, the surface seems to sink away from the viewer, falling away into a black abyssal gulf of cosmic proportions. Any failing a save vs. spells will feel overcome with vertigo and fall to their knees. If the wand is touched to the surface of the obelisk in the grotto (d) the obelisk will activate, sending a torrent of pulsing violet-black energy down into the earth. The effect of this activation, as well as its relationship to obelisks on other islands, is left to the GM for purposes of a possible unifying theme for their Sea of Os’r campaign.

Representation of Taxation

2011-03-03T17:16:00.002-05:00

"We go through the city gates and head for the.."
"Not so fast! All entering the city today must pay the:

1. Wheel Tax - 1 silver for every wheel on any cart, wagon, carriage, etc.
2. Sword Tax - 1 silver for every bladed weapon larger than a dagger, yes that axe too, mister.
3. Purple Tax - 1 gold for every purple article of clothing. "Show me the waistband!"
4. Sewer Tax - 5 copper for every adult, though I don't mind the smell myself.
5. Road Tax - 2 copper per person for road repairs, 1 silver per horse or mule.
6. Holiday Tax - 1 silver per adult, the Feast of Barnabus nears.
7. Bag Tax - 3 gold per bag of spoils carried, and you're lucky I don't look inside.
8. Staff Tax - 5 gold per magic item carried, scan em' Dan'o.
9. War Tax - 1 silver per person. Troops are mustering and need supplies.
10. School Tax - 5 copper per person, for the new university.
11. Shield Tax - 5 silver for each person or mount in medium or heavy armor.
12. Fey Tax - 4 silver for each non-human, mounts and livestock excluded.
13. Library Tax - 4 gold for each book carried.
14. Brass Tax - 3 gold for each clockwork device.
15. Spoils Tax - 1 silver for every pound of treasure carried, on the scale buddy.
16. Bow Tax - 1 silver for every bow or crossbow, and unstring it.
17. Minstrel Tax - 2 gold for every musical instrument.
18. Crown Tax - 1 silver per adult, the King's visit must be grand.
19. Holy Tax - 1 gold for each holy symbol not of our city's deity, heathen.
20. Tithe - 5% of all coin carried, for the new cathedral.

These may either be in lieu of or in addition to the usual gate fee to get into the city. They in no way obviate the standard taxes for any sort of trade goods brought into the city. Trade goods are always taxed, regardless of whether the bearer claims intention to sell them or not. Remember that if your dwarven friend likes to carry around a barrel of stout in your cart.

Big merchant caravans will usually camp well outside the city, protected by outriders and goons.. er, guards, to avoid paying taxes in every city they might need to pass or sleep in. If they start setting up too close, perhaps 100 yards or so, the guard will send a detachment to politely but firmly run them off. To enjoy the city's protection, you have to pay her taxes.

New Episode of a Great Series

2011-03-02T18:12:00.000-05:00

Yes! A new update of Atland is out! I find this web comic very entertaining, and (unlike many) relatively non-WoW influenced.

Coming soon.. less links, more substance :)

Old School Art

2011-03-02T00:15:00.000-05:00

Just a couple links for 2 masters who deserve more traffic at their sites and/or blogs.

Revel in the startlingly British graphic sensibilities of:

Tony Hough

and

Ian Miller

Starting Spells

2011-02-28T17:38:00.000-05:00

I've used many different methods for determining what spells magic-users (and sometimes clerics) have scribed in their first spell book when they enter the game. Sometimes it's all first level spells, sometimes it's just one, or one plus their INT modifier. Sometimes it's according to the (surprisingly restrictive?) table on page 8 of the Greyhawk supplement. Sometimes the spells themselves are picked by the player, or randomly determined, or sometimes a mix of both.

In your campaigns, what do 1st level magic-users get in their first spellbook? Please let us know!

Gren post 15

2011-02-25T14:22:00.000-05:00

Asmon already had his sword drawn, and he began walking in the direction of the voice. He could make out a tiny robed man, framed about by the massive dark passage opening. The old man was motioning him forward hurriedly.

"Yes, I know, you've got a lot of questions... they always do... that's not important now, hurry over here."

The old man was glancing toward the titanic portal to the outside, but looked at Asmon more closely as he neared him.

"Ahhh... you're one of them! Or one of him, I suppose you'd say. Excellent! Hardly expected, but excellent nonetheless. Now this way, quickly!" He turned to head down the dark passageway, then looked back. "Don't walk anywhere I don't! And you won't need that... not in here, anyway."

The tattered once-white robes were disappearing in the gloom before Asmon began walking after the old man. He didn't sheath his sword, but also didn't voice any of the questions he had. The passage suddenly grew bright around them, revealing only the plain pearlescent walls of the hall they'd left behind. Looking back, his eyes met an unbearable brilliance, apparently belying another break in the clouds outside.

He quickly lost track of the turns the passage made. Infrequently, he saw doorways and archways, most about twice his height, carved in the walls. Knowing what he did now, he assumed they were actual portals, merely waiting for something to bring them to life. The only other variation present in the stone was the deep wear in the passage floor. The proportions had stayed constant as well, thirty feet wide and sixty to the featureless ceiling. He now had no clear idea where the illumination was coming from.

Asmon spoke, uncomfortably breaking the silence of their footsteps, and hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I seek.. an audience with Veer-Jhavhan. I was told by an Olnivernian that he might help me."

The old man laughed, but continued walking, and said "well, you have it!" After walking on for a bit, he turned his head slightly back, and said "I am Veer-Jhavhan. And I suppose virtually anyone might help you... The real trick is finding someone who will help you!" He laughed, almost more to himself than to anyone else, and turned his attention back to the passageway before them.

He had been occasionally muttering unintelligible words as they walked along, and taking sudden odd sidesteps here and there. Asmon continued to follow suit while he considered this latest revelation from the old man.

Location e of Entero Island

2011-02-25T14:09:00.000-05:00

e - the breakwater

This narrow strip of wet, icy, rough black rock presents a considerable movement hazard, providing the characters have no means of flight. Swimming would result in checking for hypothermia, as well as the 3-in-6 risk of being dashed against the rocks for 1d6+1 damage. Even if flight is available, the characters will have to contend with high winds. Clambering along the rocks, the characters will progress at ⅓ their usual movement rate. Unless the characters come up with a means of safely traversing the rocks, for every 100 yards traveled they will also need to make a dexterity check or a dexterity based saving throw (DM’s choice - the saving throw will allow higher level characters to make use of their experience in navigating obstacles) to avoid falling and tumbling down the jagged rocks for 1 point of damage. Rolling a 1 on the save (or a 20 on the check) will result in the character tumbling into the rough, frigid water, with the risks mentioned above. For every 2 turns spent on the breakwater, the DM also rolls for waves. The waves will be 1d12 feet in height, with a 2-in-6 chance of damaging ice chunks. Ice chunks will do 1d6-1 damage to everyone on the breakwater (0 pts. min.) with a dexterity based save allowing half damage.

At the point labeled ‘e’ on the map, there is a submerged cave. It is home to 2d6 crabmen. In the cave there will also be a number of females equal to twice the number of males, young equal to the number of males, giant crabs as pets equal to ⅓ the number of males, several sandy areas of buried eggs, and 1d6 individuals undergoing molting. The molting crabmen (and/or women) are currently soft-skinned and buried up to their necks in sand for protection. There is an area of trapped air inside the cave, which includes the sandy molting area. If characters fall into the water near here, crabmen guards will take them to the trapped air within their cave and revive them with a distasteful but effective algae dish. They are distrustful of humans, due to the nature of the villagers, but will return kindness with kindness, potentially providing provisions (fresh water, oysters, mussels, lobster, mushrooms, and a nourishing but bland unbaked kelp & algae ‘bread’.) The crabmen are familiar with the evil influence of the Sea Mother, and wish she and her brood were not on the island, but they have so far avoided confrontation.

If met randomly on the rocks, the crabmen will be cautious, but if befriended can guide the characters safely along the breakwater (they will be guided through areas blocked in one way or another from wave action, and will only need to roll one more save or ability check.) They will be accompanied by giant crab pets equal to ⅓ their number. They will warn characters against the wisdom of visiting the ‘haunted tower,’ but will point out the old rowboat grounded on the rocks at the end of the breakwater if the characters are determined to go out there.

breakwater random encounters - 1 in 6 chance, rolled every turn

1 - 2d6 crabmen (Fiend Folio)

2 - 1d4 giant crabs (Blackmoor, Monster Manual I)

3 - giant clam

4 - small pool, 50% for poison urchins

5 - strangleweed (Monster Manual I)

6 - bits of old wrecked boat, 25% chance for lockbox/treasure chest

7 - driftwood

8 - angry seabirds, diving and pecking forces an immediate falling check

Tekumel 8

2011-02-18T18:32:00.002-05:00

Yikes, 8 days?! My apologies! Been focusing on my PbP games and offline complications.

You pull the nest-like mass out of its chlen-hide box. As you do so, some of the slick, brightly colored strings and ropes fall away from the nest. Placing it on your head, you could use two or more of the dangling pieces to tie it on under your chin. It doesn't seem to be intended for this purpose, but you could probably get it stay in place without too much effort.

Scooping a bit of the musty dirt into the viscous green fluid, it sits on top for a moment, then slowly settles downward. After reaching the center of the box, the dirt begins (with about the speed of a crawling beetle) to disperse evenly throughout the entire volume of fluid. It does not dissolve, but is suspended.

You pick one of the raisin-hearts and deftly toss it at the scintillating cabochon. It vanishes just at touches the surface.

Our energetic shen capitalises on momentum, and pitches the now-empty nest box and the dirt box at the gem as well. They vanish without incident. He is about to follow through with the green fluid, when a chlen-hide box top suddenly appears, charred and blackened, in front of the cabochon, and falls to the table, smoking.

While most of you ponder this odd development, the shen heads over to the pile of refuse in search of fabric. It doesn't take long to find a couple of old leather straps and some cloth which can be fashioned into a harness capable of carrying one of the boxes. Taking the materials over to the table in front of the cabochon, you begin fashioning a sort of pack. The work is unusually easy as you find yourself drawing upon the inspiration of dozens of different crafting traditions.

As you work, a small charcoal-like object appears in front of the gem and falls to the table, odorous black smoke rising from it. It was once the raisin-heart. Soon after, a box appears from thin air, looking melted and warped, and falls onto the table heavily. It is full of hot, smoking dirt. As you move this box closer to see the contents, another appears, even more melted and blackened, and falls lightly to the table. In the bottom of this box some of the few remaining nest-bits have been melted flush into the material of the box.

Locations c and d of Entero Island

2011-02-10T20:49:00.001-05:00

c - the lookout

This is the only place from where the shipwreck at location ‘g’ can be clearly seen, due to the wreck being almost entirely submerged, though shallowly, and its view being occluded by underwater rocks. Six feet of the wreck’s mast extends above the waves, and can be barely seen from the shore northwest or southeast of the hills. It cannot be approached by shore, however, since this part of the coast consists of steep 75 foot (on average) cliffs, extending from 250 yards north of ‘c’ to 200 yards east of ‘c.’

Unfortunately for any viewers, this is also the location of a yeti cave. There is but a single yeti, the last member of a nearly extinct population. This condition has done nothing to help his already sour disposition. His simple cave is littered with goat bones and giant crab shells, though he has no treasure. The treasure usually associated with his kind is instead subsumed in the booty within the sunken ship at ‘g.’

d - the grotto

At the very back of a deep fissure cut into the cliffs here, down 100 feet from the top of the overhang, is the entrance to a sizable cavern. The entrance lies mere feet from the surface of the sea, and at high tide the briny water intrudes into the lowest portions of the cavern, leaving tidal pools in the first few low yards of the floor. This natural cavern is a wet, dark place of sharp black obsidian and basalt. It is roughly in the shape of a triangle, one point being at the seaward entrance. The distance from the entrance point to the base of the vague triangle, at the back of the chamber, is 60 feet.

Ascending the sharp rocks of the interior, one enters the demesne of the Sea Mother. The upper half of her body is that of a 4 armed, voluptuous, full-figured woman. The lower half of her body is similar to the enormous rear thorax, abdomen, and tail of a gigantic blue lobster. The gradation from walking legs to swimmerets is so gradual, and their nature so similar in her case, that functionally she glides about repulsively on 16 disturbingly insectoid legs. Her colouring ranges from blue to iridescent green across her entire body, and in place of hair, she has upon her head innumerable prehensile eels.

She fully utilises her 4 arms, allowing her to attack once with a weapon, and cast one magical spell, both in the same round. She has 3 hit dice, and fights as a 3rd level fighter. She casts spells as a level 3 magic-user, as well as a level 3 cleric. All her spells are contained in her ancient spell books, separated by level and class, and securely stored here in her grotto. For this reason, the DM is encouraged to choose the Sea Mother’s spells to fit his or her unique campaign, as her spellbooks constitute a good portion of the treasure gained through her demise. She employs as her main melee weapon a +1 short sword. The blue-green sword is ornately designed with a flowing-shaped iridescent blade and a hilt in the form of a mermaid. It continually ‘sweats’ saltwater from the surface of the blade when drawn from its sheath, and can produce up to a gallon of liquid per day in this fashion. It will do an extra point of damage per hit to fire-based foes, but one point less to water or ice-based enemies.

Additionally, once per round her head-eels may attempt to turn one of her opponents to stone. This is an active attempt, so not only must the target be looking at the Sea Mother, and be able to see her, but she must also roll to hit them for the glowing green-white beam of the eels’ combined energy to strike and penetrate any armor. The target is further allowed a saving throw vs. stone to avoid the effect if hit, being slowed to half movement if successful. This petrification is cured if the resulting statue is entirely submerged in seawater for 1 round.

Accompanying the Sea Mother in her grotto are 6 brood minions, less if any have been killed at the stones of location ‘b.’ They are similar to the Sea Mother in appearance, but are all male, bald, and have only 2 arms. Also, their 8 walking legs are distinct from their smaller swimmerets, with their abdomen and tail being carried slightly aloft behind them. They are armed with spears and have 1 hit die, but possess no independent spellcasting ability. Depending on the strength of the party, the DM may consider increasing the brood minions to 2 hit dice, as well as providing them with shields.

Also within the grotto, in a prominent position near the high back of the chamber, is a large, irregularly shaped black obelisk. Despite the best efforts of those examining it, they are unable to determine if it is a projection of the native basalt, or if it is some later addition. Concealed behind the obelisk (but not a ‘secret door’) is the opening to the tunnel leading to the secret door at area ‘b.’ If approached from this direction, the only possible random encounter within the tunnel are the black garbugs.

At the north corner of the chamber, in a narrow vertical crevice, are several small natural ledges and a collection of giant clam shells crammed into the rock. These hold the Sea Mother’s spellbooks, as well as her treasure. They are not split apart, but rather connected at the joint, and arranged so that the top half will lift to allow access to the inside. There are 4 of these, with the largest one at the top. This one contains all her spellbooks, and is trapped with the spine of a sea urchin. Anyone springing the trap will begin feeling numb and die in 6 rounds, unless a save vs. poison is made, or unless some other measures are taken to neutralize the poison. The remaining shells and the ledges contain the rest, consisting of: 900 silver coins; 500 gold coins; 2 large pearls (50gp ea.); 3 small pearls (25gp ea.); 10 pieces of tableware including goblets, cups and plates, of both metal and glass (10gp ea.); a silver fork(5gp); a gold comb(20gp); a silver mirror(30gp); and a spyglass(50gp). There are also numerous other items commonly found on boats and ships, but all are broken and worthless.

Grumpy Eberron - an NPC on 'Forged

2011-02-10T18:05:00.000-05:00

Lieutenant Albrecht Jung is a young officer in the Karnnathi military. Currently, he is an artificer specialist assigned to the military garrison in Vulyar. He was brought in after the end of the Last War with an assistant and two sections of ten warforged. Their job is to assist in repairs around the badly damaged county.

"Frankly, I don't think the captain even believes thinkers exist. I've only been at Vulyar for a year. I came with my corporal and two sections of warforged to assist in the repairs. I didn't fight in the war with these men.. I've been trying hard to.. well, fit in with them. As an artificer, it is always difficult to be seen as an equal with experienced fighting men, and there is little room in my duties for my theories."

You are touring the work sites around the outlying areas of Vulyar. As you travel, Albrecht, who you realise is probably not much over 20 years old, begins to speak. "As an artificer, it is part of my vocation to understand and work with the arcane motivators of the warforged. In addition to being a sort of complex clockwork, a warforged is suffused with an enchantment which serves as its engine, which brings it to life, so to speak. These things are not completely understood by any artificer I have met, though we base our work on manipulating this. For those who produced the warforged during the war, I believe it was much like the farmer who may grow bushel upon bushel of grain, though he knows not how the seed functions."

"Anyway.. I believe that the thinkers result when various different parts or factors common to all warforged within their minds, certain opposites for example, come together in a sort of agreement. This is, perhaps, what allows them to become unique.. a thinking individual.. that these separate factors are incredibly numerous, and have come together in a unique way in each case. I have done certain experiments.. " He pauses and looks at the three of you in the party still on the wagon. "Experiments which even my assistant, Corporal Meier, does not know about.. which suggest I may be correct. Yet, I have no proof, and so far no real success."

Tekumel 7

2011-02-09T17:29:00.000-05:00

You remove the lid from one of the boxes and peer inside. It takes a moment to process what you see, at first appearing to be some sort of reddish brown, oddly shaped roots. You then realise the box is full of mummified hearts. To the distaste of many of the identities within, the shen has to fight down the urge to devour several of them when he realises they are undoubtedly no longer good to eat.

Another box, carefully opened, reveals musty, odd smelling dirt. A third box contains a thick but semi-transparent green liquid. The liquid moves viscously within the box, but with what seems to be a disturbing delay of one or two seconds. The fourth and final chlen-hide box (in this part of the laboratory) contains what at first glance appears to be a multi-coloured bird's nest. The nest, or nests, fill the box, and the pieces making it up are long and flexible. They have a dull shine, not unlike chlen hide. At the ends of at least some of the strands are small metallic rings and needles.

Taking a precautionary step backward, you gently fling the last box top toward the large buzzing ornament. The instant you hear it contact the great central cabochon, the box top vanishes. Its disappearance is completely without spectacle - it simply and instantly ceases to exist.

What do you do now?

Motor City - This is What We Do

2011-02-08T23:18:00.000-05:00

I was just thinking earlier today about how many bloggers and others in the osr are in the Detroit area. I know of 2 or 3 already, but I thought I'd ask.. how many of you out there are in Detroit metro? Do you have a regular DnD group?

Location b - the stones

2011-02-08T01:14:00.000-05:00

b - the stones

In the midst of this area of grass-covered hills, on top of a hill somewhat shorter than those surrounding it, lies a group of large, rounded, heavily weathered stones with a number of large glyphs deeply incised upon each of them. These boulders are roughly 3 feet in height, and generally measure about 8 feet long by 4 feet wide, with a variance of about a foot in either direction. There are 8 of them, arranged at the points of the compass. Around the bottoms of each of these stones are a number of blunt projections, appearing somewhat like stunted legs. In the center of the arrangement of boulders is a large, circular stone, the Focus Stone. This central stone is about 12 feet in diameter, and is flat and flush with the ground. It is deeply carved with complex glyphs and long, sweeping lines and curves.

If the players are unfortunate (or unwise) enough to find themselves waking up bound to these stones, the function of the blunt projections is clear. They will be tied, immobile, with heavy woven-grass ropes to the stones, with the projections used as anchors or tie-offs. From the moment the first PC awakens, they have 1d12+10 minutes before the Sea Mother appears! She will be accompanied by 1d4+1 of her inhuman brood. They will arrive via a secret opening in the flat central Focus Stone. If the PCs have not managed to free themselves before this time, they are at least not gagged. However, they will have to be glib indeed to dissuade the Sea Mother from her intended course of action, which is, quite simply, the ritual sacrifice of all the PCs, one at a time.

The ritual begins with 1 round of casting, involving not only the Sea Mother, but all her accompanying brood as well, gathered in a tight circle around her at the center of the Focus Stone. At the end of this round, a brilliant (even if it happens to be daylight) green-white pillar of light will audibly blast upward toward the heavens, out of sight. The minions are now free to guard her, or undertake other actions, but will default to standing around the circumference of the circle while events proceed. If left to her designs, the Sea Mother will then begin using a large ceremonial knife to uncomfortably dispatch the PCs, beginning of course with any hapless henchmen or hirelings. With each sacrifice, the glyphs of the poor unfortunate’s stone glow with bright greenish light. A brilliant green-white shaft of light then springs horizontally from the blood-soaked boulder to join and strengthen the pillar of light at the center. If she completes the ritual, and some PC is somehow yet left alive (perhaps watching from a nearby hilltop, the coward!) the Sea Mother grows 3 feet in height and length, grotesquely sprouts yet another pair of arms, and gains 2 hit dice.

At the DM’s option, one last chance exists for each of the PCs as she, in turn, tries to send their souls to her dark god. If they can make a dexterity-based saving throw, they manage to interpose a woven rope between their flesh and her glittering blade. They thereby free a limb of their choice, and may begin a desperate last-ditch struggle for survival.

If the PCs arrive at the location in more agreeable circumstances, they have the usual chances to discover the secret door. Opening it will require dripping fresh blood (the door is not picky about whose) into the shallow, 6 inch bowl-like depression in the center, then using this liquid to trace 8 small glyphs on the surface of the Focus Stone. Each of these glyphs is near the perimeter, each one ‘aimed’ at one of the surrounding boulders. (Remember, the Focus Stone is bare to the elements, making any blood stains terribly faint) The Focus Stone will then grind open, iris-fashion, revealing a very steep, time-worn and lichen encrusted stone stair. The stair leads to a tunnel, which then snakes its way through the earth to location ‘d.’

The only random encounter possible in the tunnel (unless the Sea Mother knows strangers are on the island, in which case a lone brood minion may be patrolling) is black garbugs. The chance is 1 in 6 for every 30 minute period. Roll a d30 to determine when (and thus where) the encounter occurs.

Location a - the village

2011-02-07T21:00:00.000-05:00

Entero Island

Entero Island is located in the more frigid reaches of the Sea of Os’r, and is quite cold year-round. Ice can often be seen in the surrounding waters, and the prevailing current comes from the north. There is only a single village on the island, and it is self-sufficient in its needs for food, clothing and shelter. Due to the proclivities of the inhabitants, no luxury goods find a market here. Thus, due to these factors, the tiny island is not a destination for traders or their ships. Once upon the island, adventurers without other means of travel at their disposal could find themselves in for a very long stay indeed.

a - the village

If the village once had a proper name of its own, it long ago died of neglect. The residents do not travel, do not speak of other lands, and live but in this single locale. The few items which cannot be produced on the island (there is no metal-bearing ore, for example) are well cared for, and passed down as heirlooms. They live in yurt-like but stationary huts, in family groups of 4 - 7. There are currently a total of 37 adults in the village, living in 15 huts.

Due to their arduous lifestyle, all the adults are at least equal to level 1 fighters, with a handful being equal to level 2. This hardiness can easily be scaled upward by as much as 2 levels, depending on the strengths of the adventurers. None should be above level 4, however, and all will be equal to a fighter.

The solitary domestic animals on the island are the herd of goats, which belong in common to all the residents. These goats are largely left to roam the island as they see fit, with only a few of the females kept in simple pens around the village for milk.

When approached, these people will not seem overly surprised by new arrivals to their island. Neither will they be hostile, but they will not seem friendly either. Their most common form of social intercourse with strangers will take the form of leisurely assessing stares. If pressed, they will speak as succinctly as possible, though preferring mild grunts (“hmmm..”) shrugs and nods. Although they have personal names, they will not use or share these in the presence of strangers. Overtures of friendship will meet with vaguely distrustful indifference, even from children, while threats and acts of violence will generally meet with measured, calm flight.

Under their quiet veneer, all the residents immediately see any strangers (and their gear) as a mere resource to be exploited. All that remains is to determine how best they might be used. As soon as they can get away unnoticed, a group of 1d4+2 adults will go to area ‘d’ in an attempt to get advice from their Sea Mother. If unmolested, they return bearing her dire wisdom in just under 2 hours.

If their plots proceed apace, the player characters will be treated to a feast of shellfish, crab, a richly tasty goat cheese, a large white root (similar to yucca) baked under the open fire and served like a baked potato, unleavened bread, and even a heavy chowder made from the preceding. All this out on the beach, in front of a roaring fire of driftwood. Nonetheless, the countenances of the many gathered villagers, upwards of a dozen in attendance, remain as before - slightly wary, unemotional and watching.

The goal of the villagers here is to put the player-characters soundly to sleep, their bellies full of heavy provender, cozied up to a roaring fire on a chilly beach. If none stay awake, they next find themselves secured to sacrificial stones at area ‘b.’

If, on the other hand, the adventurers always maintain at least one person awake, the villagers will continue to bide their time. They will provide space in one of their dwellings for the player-characters to sleep, but at least two villagers will be inside with them at all times. The feasts will continue for the next two nights before another group of villagers goes back to area ‘d’ for more advice. This further advice should be determined by the DM, as based on the remainder of this information and the progress of play up to that point.

Entero Island - Sea of Os'r

2011-02-06T22:09:00.000-05:00

Here is my map! I'm now working on filling in the key, as well as wandering monster charts for different areas, details for the village and its residents, and all the naughty bits. Click for a larger version, if you wish.

The Devil Sack

2011-02-05T16:12:00.000-05:00

A Grumpy Greyhawk magic item - For all intents and purposes this seems to be a typical magical bag of holding, and even an identify spell will indicate this, although the caster of such a spell may get an 'odd feeling' about the item.

In fact, on the night of the next new moon, one object held within the bag will become possessed by a devil. If the DM must, a random roll is acceptable, but the devil does have a choice of which item he or she wishes to inhabit. Additionally, the devil can make use of what they've learned about the carrier of the sack from the time it was picked up 'til the time of possession.

The type of devil may, as well, be determined randomly, but will never be a unique sort, such as one of the princes or dukes.

Although the possessor has no inherent way of knowing this without some type of research, destruction of the sack will make the possession irretrievably permanent, but destruction of the item (no longer as simple a matter as destroying a mundane apple, extra shirt, ten foot pole or whatever the possessed item is) will release the fiend into the world.

Ephemeromancy

2011-02-05T01:17:00.001-05:00

"First of all, this isn't a new class. It's merely a different method of casting for a magic-user. In most of my milieu, there are dozens of different casting systems by which a worker of magic can cast their spells. Generally, characters will start out with a very basic system, much like or identical to what is detailed in the rules, and will then discover other casting systems as they travel around and experience the different cultures of the world, or worlds." - me

The system below is, obviously, a familiar one. However, it is presented here mostly in the context of starting with another system and discovering this one in the course of the campaign. If this is the case, it may be entirely appropriate to greatly increase the difference in power between spell levels, with even the first levels being of considerable power, while lowering the number of each level which the mage can commit to memory at any one time.

In my worlds, this form of wizardry goes hand in hand with the sort detailed in the works of Lovecraft. While anyone might dare to peruse the pages of the Necronomicon or the Book of Eibon, and attempt to cast the spells therein, the vast majority do so at the great peril of their mental stability. There are a handful of masters, however, who have painstakingly learned the techniques of ordering their minds in such a way that the howling chaos of raw magic may be safely contained within their conciousness... for a time.

Ordered chaos is the defining character of an ephemeromancer. Through practised forms of intense concentration, he can partition a prison against madness within his thoughts. He then populates this bastion with the same spells which would erode other mens' sanity. Then, as the memories are utilised, the inverted fortress shrinks within his mind, allowing his normal psyche more breathing room.

The wizard, after allowing his serotonin levels to normalize through sufficient sleep, can then once again enforce this neuroplasticity on his mind, rebuilding his asylum of chaos.

As befitting those so learned in ordering chaos and rigidly controlling their psyche, ephemeromancers have developed a complex system of power level assessment through which they catorgorise the known spells. As one advances in power, he will know precisely how many spells of a certain power he has the skill to confine within his mind.

However, woe be to any who dare look within the ephemeromancer's books, for if they chance to understand the ancient languages in which the arcane instructions are scribed, it is sure to have a lasting effect on their sanity. Although, they may also attempt the thaumaturgy themselves, but to potentially inexpert ends.

This system of magic can use any of the multitude of published sources which divide spells into levels of power, and which then specify how many of each level may be remembered at any one time by the mage, then to be wiped from the mind upon use.

Tekumel 6

2011-02-01T23:42:00.000-05:00

The fingers of your left hand are closing about the clasp which holds the dusty old tome shut before you realise it. The grey-white cover, scribed with symbols you almost recognise, reminds you of something. As you open the book, the warm scent of cinnamon reaches you. Your eyes rest limply on the first pages. There are those within you who desire desperately to read the words, to speak them as they once did, but they are as yet too far below the surface.

Closing the book, you pick it up to take it with you. You will need a pack of some kind to carry it very far. The dark doorway you now see at the back of the laboratory suggests that such things might lie up the curving stair, now barely visible among the deep shadows. First though, one of you (LoneIslander) demands their earlier desire to investigate the buzzing noise be addressed.

Searching through the cluttered environs of the laboratory, following the sound which has now returned to the front of your thoughts, you believe you've discovered its source. Clearing away several chlen-hide boxes and instruments from a high table, you reveal a remarkable device. A large diamond shape of heavy golden metal, beset all around with ornate spines, curves and lattices of strange black iron, looms against the wall. A complex circular base lies behind the huge golden diamond, as wide as your own chest. On its nearer face, and surrounded by lesser stones, is a massive, smooth cabochon, too large for both your hands to cover, glowing in shifting colours from beneath the tracery and lattice of iron. It is set into the wall at the back of the table, apparently directly into the stone, and the vibrating noise emanates from within, seeming, as you gaze at it, to vibrate the very fabric of the air between it and yourself.

It Began in a Farmhouse

2011-02-01T17:01:00.000-05:00

Hannibal aimed his matchlock at the farmers wife and pulled the trigger. The plaster wall behind her blossomed with bright colour. He watched the pattern on the wall slowly change as he reloaded his pistol. Quickly he made sure the match still showed an ember, as he could hear the older boy running toward the house.

The door burst open, and, somewhat predictably, the tall boy stood three steps inside, holding a pitchfork. The pitchfork told Hannibal the boy had discovered his father in the barn. Hannibal allowed the boy to charge forward before raising the pistol, a motion which appeared to engender a short-lived quizzical reaction rather than caution or fear. He pulled the trigger. Hannibal then sat back down at the table, laying the matchlock next to his plate before finishing the breakfast the woman had prepared for him.

When he had eaten, Hannibal retrieved the pitchfork from the floor. He found the younger boy in the second room along the short hall. The pitchfork took longer than the matchlock, but proved equally effective. Nonetheless, he left it in the now brightly-coloured room, and walked out of the house, heading southeastward through more foothills toward Norridge.

Amazing Powers of The Mind

2011-01-31T17:42:00.001-05:00

I was never satisfied with the system called psionics in 1st edition AD&D. It seemed like two semi-related systems cobbled together. Of course, much later I discovered that's exactly what it was. When psionics showed up in Eldritch Wizardry, the 3rd supplement to OD&D, it was originally intended to be the basis of Steve Marsh's mystic, plus the Psi Attacks of some other un-named class. No wonder.

I (sadly) don't have Carcosa. I like ChicagoWiz's psionics ideas, but I'd like something more expanded as well, maybe for someone dedicated to it, or just for more options with a wild-talent-type character. Thus, I think I'm going to try to figure some out on my own..

I'm going to use this post at TV Tropes as a starting point. I think it's a great place to start.

Grumpy Greyhawk - An NPC

2011-01-24T17:55:00.000-05:00

In my own PbP Greyhawk campaign, the goal is to visit a time some thirty years after the germinal tales of such legendary adventurers as Robilar, Tenser and Terik. Much as the current year in the real world was 2010 when the campaign began, the year in the campaign is 610. There were no 'Greyhawk Wars,' Rary never betrayed anyone, and the last twenty-some years of Sir Robilar's life would, I earnestly hope, be happily claimed by Mr. Kuntz.
The popular name of the City of Greyhawk has changed over the years to Yggsburgh, arising from the influx of so many adventurers and treasure-seekers from foreign lands coming to explore the rumors of Zagyg and the dungeons beneath his crumbling castle. As the campaign began, it had been nearly twenty years since ne'er-do-wells and would-be-heroes had streamed in taxable masses down into the bowels of the ruined pile.

Here is the first of what I intend to be a continuing view of snapshots from Grumpy Greyhawk. This time, it's an NPC from the back alleys of the gaming district. He's partly a mix of Fagin and Mackenzie Crook.

Limm Skellin - In the gaming district you find an urchin who indeed knows a likely party. He asks you several questions which you guess are aimed at weeding out members of the thieve's guild, as he guides you along a complicated path amongst the narrow streets and back alleys to an old place behind some of the gaming establishments. He knocks on a door, and a man looking to be recovering from a hangover opens it. The boy assures him you are 'ok' and comes back to you for his reward. The man, apparently around 20 going on 50, introduces himself with a formal bow, tipping a non-existent hat, and calls himself Limm Skellin. "What can I do for ye t'day, guv'nor?"

-Another quote..
"Right to business. I like that. It's honest, that is. 5 gold orbs. 8, if they're wanted by the authorities. 12 if they're a person of Higher Station, if you know what I mean. Half now, the rest when I show 'em to you. Mind, if it's a wizard, or someone in The Organisation, it might run extra. If I've got nuffing in 3 days, I'll give back half what you gim'me today, retaining the remainder for expenses and such, o' course."

-And another look..
He clears his throat from behind you as you near his lodgings, and steps out of the shadows. "It seems your friend, him of the hollowed out skull purse, has made an impression on the Society of Magi. I can tell you what I've nosed up so far for the remainder of our agreed upon.. but to keep at things, I'm afraid the wizardly entanglements demand a bit more than the average amount o' care." He smiles widely, displaying his ironic lack of care in the dental area.

Tekumel 5

2011-01-23T01:55:00.002-05:00

The walking dead man you defeated lies bound on the floor before you. Is the binding necessary? It's hard to know. He's clearly been dead for several days, yet he was silently threatening you only moments ago. His cold body is limp and completely motionless.

You look again at the long silvery staff.. bar? ..in your hands, and you realise that for many of the personalities within you, this is the first time in all their existence when they've held a metal object. Remembering the other room behind you, you rise, and with a wary glance back at the still unmoving body, turn the corner into what you can only conceive of as a sorcerer's laboratory.

On the crowded tables, high desks and shelves you see a dizzying array of obscure glassware, chlen-hide boxes, globes and shapes of brazen clockwork, and an omnipresent clutter of enigmatic objects, a few of which seem to whisper their purpose to as-yet unsurfaced identities within your mind. Among them, on a high table along one shadowy side of the room, you see a very large book, bound in dusty grey-white hide.. or skin.

So When Do We Get To See The Grumpy Part?

2011-01-21T21:10:00.001-05:00

It's been awhile, so I figured it was about time :)

Why are some so offended by members of the osr wanting to make a buck from what they do? I think that's a ridiculous and childish attitude. Some people give away some of their efforts for free, but to expect everyone to do so just because you don't think it's 'up to par' or because it means you don't get your free treat, or because they could have been doing something you find worthwhile instead of wasting their time on what they wanted to do is foolish.

News flash - the world is not your cookie.

"Why did they decide to charge for Palace of the Vampire Queen? And for Tsojconth too?! Man, what rampant avarice! And good money for little mimeograph sheets folded in half and stapled together?! You must be kidding, that's not even a real book!" - Bah! Humbug even! You speak with the tongue of a spoiled child. And he wants it back. Plus, you don't know where that thing's been.

We don't get to decide which songs Jimi Hendrix put on vinyl. We don't get to decide what George Lucas put on film. We don't get to decide what other people in the osr write. We don't get to decide what Justin Bieber sings.. and frankly, I think that's a much more dire situation right there. But I will always stand up and help make fun of those who think they should have some say in other peoples' creativity. Plus, dude, you really don't want to be that guy complaining about midichlorians on the internet. Seriously. :)

I love you guys! (offers his beer)

Vault of Awesome

2011-01-20T16:16:00.001-05:00

I rarely do shout-outs, but I'm doing one today. If you don't read Ancient Vaults & Eldritch Secrets every day, you should. I've read it every day for many months now, and I'm continually gobsmacked by the yawning-gulf-full of creativity and originality on display. You get:
A cool new arcane spell
or
A cool new divine spell
or
An awesome new magic item
plus!
A cool story vignette
EVERY DAY!

And when I say 'cool' and 'awesome' I'm not kidding. Every one of them makes me say "ohhh, sweet!" Chicagowiz even made a google-tool index for the spells and items. You could use AVnES to totally replace the lists in whatever book you're using. Best of luck to bat on the full game and graphic novel based on the blog - very much looking forward to them!

Do You Recognise These NPCs?

2011-01-10T18:51:00.001-05:00

Recent events in my PbP game.
Parameters: 3lbb ODnD + SnW Whitebox + '75 Greyhawk supplement; play-by-post forum game; titled the Ironwolf campaign; set in Gygaxian Greyhawk (no Greyhawk Wars, no traitor Rary, etc.) in the year 610, some 35yrs after the heyday of Robilar, Erac, Tenser, etc.

These are a few of my recent posts in the game, occurring in the city of Yggsburgh (née Greyhawk.)

1. You follow along, and after a short jaunt you witness them trying to apprehend a very large armored man. The large man picks up one of the guards and uses him to club two others, sending them sprawling. He then sends his makeshift guard-club sailing through a nearby window. The large man yells "STERRRRN!!!" and proceeds along the narrow street. The guards regroup, retrieving their downed but only stunned comrades, and take off again after the massive ruffian.

2. You catch up with them again, but this time the sounds of fighting precede your view. Coming around a corner near the city walls, you see that the massive brute (is he perhaps a bit larger than a few minutes ago?) has torn an immensely heavy iron grating from the middle of a street. He bellows "STERRRRRNNN!!!" perhaps somewhat in the direction of the hole from whence the grate was ripped.

The scene here is more serious than before, with two city guards already sprawled several yards away from the melee, gouts of blood discolouring the surrounding cobblestones. As you watch, the brute brings the dislodged iron grating sweeping into the cluster of guards about him, sending 3 more flying outward, their bodies torn by the ragged iron.

3. The fight proceeds until the great brute, who you are now certain has grown slightly in the time you've watched, flings aside the ragged grating and jumps down into the cavity in the street. Several guards start to follow, but hesitate and are pulled back by their comrades. You hear another great bellow of "STERRRRNNN!!!" echo up from beneath the cobblestones.

Shortly, you see an odd group of individuals arrive on the scene:
A very muscular man with a huge axe, wearing only leather breeches and boots.
An old man with a long grey beard wearing blue robes and a pointy purple hat with stars on it.
An elf dressed in muted green and carrying an ornate longbow.
A woman with sword and shield, armored in many pieces of plate armor, but still managing to look rather unprotected in various vital areas.

The guards seem to know them. The woman exchanges a few words with one of the guards, who seems to treat her with a great deal of respect. The group then jumps down into the hole in the street, one by one. A few guards stay around the chasm, but the rest begin leaving with the wounded and dead.

A special No-Prize to anyone able to name the music group supplying the soundtrack in my mind as the above events were typed. :)

Stars Without Number

2011-01-10T12:12:00.001-05:00

Like many people, I just read Stars Without Number the other night, thanks to it popping up on several osr blogs. Like many people, I really super-ultra-ecstatic liked it. It reminded me EXACTLY how I felt when I first bought the boxed set of Starter Traveller from It's Your Move in the dungeon basement of Cinderella City in Denver way back in something like 1983. When I started reading I couldn't put it down. I read and read and read, and suddenly a whole ton of hours had gone by, and I had to go to the bathroom really bad. This is a sign of an awesome book.

I'm really bummed that I have no-one to play it with. It does things that I wished Traveller would do. Not only that, it does them in a way that's reasonable + awesome. One time I tried to get one of my DnD groups to play Traveller, and I had them roll up characters like in DnD, with 3-18 stats and such. After reading Stars Without Number, I realise I completely blew it. Kevin did not completely blow it. He got it completely awesome.

Roll a d20 To Cast

2011-01-03T22:23:00.004-05:00

The holiday season has left me mentally barren. I expect to recover soon.

In the meantime, I've been considering overhauling the basic underpinnings of magic use in my games, both wizard magic and cleric magic. My main intent is to have spellcasters rolling a d20 to cast a spell, just like players roll a d20 to make an attack. Since my main desire is some sort of equanimity, that means the higher the die roll, the better the spellcast.

Just like any system-fiddling, the first question is 'why bother, it works now.' Simple - I don't really like how it works now. I want my spellcasters doing magic. I'd rather it was more magic with less surety than less magic with more surety. I think that makes for a more interesting situation. Would it be any fun to play a fighter if you knew that you were guaranteed to do damage when you tried to hit.. but that you could only try to hit something once or twice a day? I'm thinking no.

I also have no interest in a wizard rolling 'to-hit' with their magic missile. Lame. I'm looking for something more interesting than that. I'm also thinking mostly about combat-related or time-sensitive magic. To be honest, if you can cast detect magic I don't really care how many times a day you cast it. Conversely, you probably don't care if it takes you 15 to 20 minutes to cast it. I think that's a pretty good trade-off, but I'd still like to see a d20 roll anyway, perhaps with a much easier target number, but with a chance to screw it up and make something bad happen, or even at least waste your time.

I love examples!

Charm Person: failure results in the intended target becoming insensibly enraged at the casting magic-user. They will immediately do their best to kill the magic-user, disregarding all other considerations to do so, including their own safety.

Detect Magic: failure results in a roll on the sensory mishap table.

Feather Fall: failure results in a roll on the minor physical mishap table, with all results visited upon the mage in the form of feathers and/or down.

One thing I really like about the take on this kind of system from James of A Dungeon Master's Tale is how (basically) target numbers get harder the more frequently you use magic. For what I'm after, the tables would look a lot more like one of Zak's tables, and the difficulty of successful spellcasting wouldn't increase quite as steeply as in James' system.

I'll keep thinking about this.. please throw ideas at me.

Happy Yuletide. I guess.

2010-12-13T13:01:00.001-05:00

The holiday season, much like a plague from Nurgle, has hit many blogs recently. I resisted infection for a time, but I will soon be succumbing to its nefarious influence. I must remember next year to burn others old posts, rather than piling them like cordwood in the town square.

The Elven Experience

2010-12-08T12:48:00.002-05:00

Page 5 of Supplement 1, Greyhawk, arguably changed elves in DnD forever.

Elven thieves work in all three categories at once (fighter, magic-user, and thief) unless they opt to never be anything other than in the thief category. Thus, experience is always distributed proportionately in the three categories even when the elf can no longer gain additional levels in a given category.

With the words 'work in all three categories at once' the elf no longer had to choose what class he would be during an adventure. I have to admit I sort of missed it. Not only because it kept the elf from being two characters at once, but also because it was interesting and unique. A lot of players thought it was odd or inconvenient, or simply just wanted to squeeze as much 'high performance' out of their character as they could at every turn, like it was some sort of ridiculous racing car. They liked the change.

In my Greyhawk PbP game, we've just recently added the Greyhawk supplement, including the revised elf. I miss the old elf, but I also understand it's sometimes hard for a DM to explain. The way I ran it before, the player had to choose between operating as a fighter or a magic-user at the start of an adventure, and remained as chosen until the next safe point was reached, which is also when I awarded experience. From safe point to safe point they were locked in to their choice, whether it was the next day or several days later when they made it back to town.

My question to those reading this: how would you explain it? Suggest a reason why an elf might be forced to make this choice, and then abide by it until next he found himself safe.

Wine and Wyverns

2010-12-08T01:53:00.000-05:00

"But you are a noble lady, an Imperial Knight of Morvalia. What ill reason could you possibly bear me?"

Gren smiled slightly, her eyes dropping. "There are many who believe the wyvern a noble and thoughtful monster, when they see it sit and look skyward after it's mealed on some errant knight. Surely it ponders the life such a warrior may have led, if it's hunger he hadn't fed." She rose from the table and quaffed the last of her wine. "In truth, it waits 'til the struggles of the knight have stilled within its gut, so that it might fly more surely."

Tekumel 4

2010-12-03T17:09:00.001-05:00

You quickly reach out and snatch away the cloth, ready for anything.
I usually won't label rolls, but I think it's interesting to do so this time :)
male/female 45
familiarity 27
helpful/hostile 79
You reveal a man whom part of you dimly recognises. This man was you, one of you still submerged below the surface of consciousness. He is pale, but the backs of his arms and legs are dark with pooled blood. His angry eyes are entirely white.

He (it?) takes a quick step toward you, lashing out with fists!
20
You strike him with your metal staff before he can get inside your defenses. The sensation as your attacks slam into yielding flesh and bone is disturbing, but reassuring at the same time. He's staggered momentarily, but presses on.
45
His punches barely connect, and you're able to put some distance between the two of you again.

Will you destroy him if you can?

The Evil That Men Don't

2010-12-02T22:28:00.001-05:00

In some published game settings, mostly those which are relatively newer, it's been quite popular to say that not all members of the traditionally evil humanoid races are evil. In some cases, a majority are even shown to be quite the opposite. I'm generally of the opinion that such things occur for mostly two reasons. Either the author is desperate to be different, or it's a reflection of Western European apologism.

Be that as it may, I'm curious what the other DMs out there do in their own games. Are all your orcs, goblins and kobolds evil?

Tekumel 3

2010-11-24T08:49:00.001-05:00

Though the tables and machinery pull at your curiosity, you decide your first best course is in arming yourself. Easing around the corner toward the stand of rubbish, you see into the next room. Parts of you immediately label your shadowy view as both the laboratory of a sorcerer and of a scientist. A multitude of oddities pull your eye about. The source of the buzzing is in this room, but this too must wait.

Remembering your task, you reach the corner and begin looking through the dusty items for something useful in defending yourself. You find a long metal rod, nearly as tall as yourself. It has knurled hand-size grips at shoulder width. Collars of metal flare out slightly about a foot from each end. It's solid and heavy, and for many of you this is the first time in memory when you've held a metal object. Grasping it reassuringly in both hands, you return to the body-bearing tables.

Approaching the one nearest where you woke, you search for some sort of control. A button, a lever, some moving part, but the table itself seems free of such things. The spidery machinery above yields somewhat to your touch, the whole apparatus readjusting slightly as you move one arm. You wait expectantly, looking at the cloth covered body, but nothing happens.

Returning to the metal table in which you first beheld your image, you begin gingerly fingering the gems and stones affixed to its surface. You now see them as buttons, knobs and indicators. The spidery mass which you moved moments ago begins to hum with energy above the table next to your own. A weird and otherworldly glow takes hold of the shadows above the table, seeming to fight with the air itself. It builds to a crescendo, and suddenly stops as the space above the body emanates the sound of a single deep thud, as of a mass falling on the floor, or a single great knock.

Beneath the cloth, the body begins to rise.

Gramercy Day

2010-11-23T16:52:00.001-05:00

Status: Unexpected pre-Thanksgiving slow-down, followed by semi-expected Thanksgiving micro-hiatus. I'd rather be typing.

Tekumel 2

2010-11-18T22:33:00.001-05:00

There is a near exit in the chamber where you stand, and a far exit. The far exit is beyond the long line of disturbingly occupied tables, all with darkly complex devices of metal and crystal above them, lurking in the shadows of the ceiling like great spiders. Through the door-less and dark archway beyond comes a hot breeze.

The near exit is another door-less archway, ornately carved and pointed. Beyond you can see only a small corner of another room, even more dimly lit than this one. The corner of this other room holds what seems to be rubbish. Long narrow pieces of wood, bits of stone and pieces of cloth. A strange buzzing noise comes from some unseen place beyond this corner.

What do you do?

Gormenghasts’s Bestiary, A Page at Random - Grue

2010-11-17T19:00:00.001-05:00

The book is extremely thick and very large, with a cover of highly tooled and decorated, one might almost say sculpted, leather of unknown provenance. It is closed with a heavy leather hasp in the form of two paws which grasp one another when brought together. The book’s origin lies within the labyrinthine libraries of a vast and storied castle, but it has been many generations since it rested there.

Grue, Vashta Nerada, Devourer in The Dark.
Many children fear night-time and the dark spaces of the world, but most learn to dismiss this fear as they grow to adulthood. This is a potentially deadly error. When entering a place occupied by a grue, a lack of illumination spells near-certain death. All that is necessary to ensure safety, however, is to bring forth a source of visible light. It is of special note that beings with some ability to see in utter darkness are not thereby made safe. The grue will remain quite unviewable to persons of this proclivity, yet its deadly efficacy will be unabated.
None know what manner of physical form this creature possesses, for upon exposure to visible light it is instantly dismissed. Sages ponder the nature of this banishment, but most agree it has to do with the inherent shadows present within the folds of reality. Some have heard sounds of slavering and the gnashing of a great maw just before the spark of a flint lit their lantern, yet there are others who report only the clattering of an object or two before their newly lighted torch revealed a bit of gear which belonged to a now missing compatriot.

Statistics - a decidedly deadly beast to encounter, the grue has more in common with a devilish trap than a typical creature. If in an area occupied or frequented by grues, and unfortunate enough to be without a source of visible light, a character in utter darkness for more than one round must save versus paralysis or be utterly eliminated. 1d4 items carried on their person, determined randomly, may fall to the ground and remain behind. The grue will only devour one character per round, determined randomly from those present. Those devoured by a grue may be retrieved by a wish, but no other means is sufficient.

Books and Games and Games and Books

2010-11-17T01:10:00.001-05:00

It occurs to me there is a certain odd reciprocal arrangement between the sort of fantasy books DnD players like to read. I've no idea if this is the rule or the exception, but in my experience it's almost 100% accurate.

People who like games where characters are extraordinary and pregnant with powers (4e) tend to prefer books about people who are painfully average and nearly clueless about adventuring (Jordan, Goodkind.)

People who like games where characters are average and have only the most basic abilities (ODnD) tend to prefer books about people who are extraordinary and exemplify the ideal adventurer (Howard, Eddison, Moorcock.)

In other news, I plan to update the Tekumel adventure tomorrow, and then again on the weekend. I'm considering then settling into updating it once a week on Thursday nights, in honor of Prof. Barker's Thursday night games. I'm not sure once a week will provide enough progress though..

First Tekumel Post Updated

2010-11-14T18:08:00.000-05:00

This is just a quick note to let everyone know that I edited the introductory Tekumel post a bit, and added some needed information at the bottom about just what I have in mind here. I'm still not really happy with how it all looks - I wanted the info part to be a smaller font size, but Blogger insists its ideas about layout are superior to my own. I'll have to trust its experience.

I had originally wanted to gradually reveal an organic system of determining what the character does, but I should probably front-load some more system info. As decisions and choices become available to the character, I fully expect (and hope for) everyone to have different ideas about what they want the character to do. If more than one person wants a certain course of action, that choice will get more weight in determining what happens. There are other things that will give comments more or less weight, but I'll leave them to be discovered. After they're weighted, I'll roll some dice and see which personality was strongest and won out! Then, in the next Tekumel game post, the character will then take the actions of the dominating personality.

I'm hopeful that this 'Play-by-Blog' idea will work out in an interesting and entertaining way, and people can use it as a vehicle to both learn about Tekumel and share their knowledge and experiences of Tekumel, and at the same time develop some cool characters-within-the-character. And have fun!

Tekumel 1

2010-11-13T20:56:00.005-05:00

image by Simon Bisley

You open your eyes.

You are in a dimly lit room, lying on your back, looking at the cracked and fissured brown stone above. As you sit up, you realise you are upon a large stone dais, shaped roughly in the form of a person, and ornately carved.

There is a man before you, lit from behind by low even light. His bald head is weighed down by a long, thin black beard, hanging determinedly from his chin. He wears shimmering robes of deep purple, embroidered with orange. His eyes wide and aglow with avarice, he speaks.

“At last.. at LAST! After so many, the elder gods have delivered eclat!” He takes a step forward and stops, an odd look of discomfiture on his face. Suddenly, he grimaces and large grey-green tentacles burst forth from the front of his robe, wrap around the extents of his body, and like so many coloured scarves through a ring, instantly pull him into nothingness.

Peering over the edge of the dais, you see no evidence of his existence.

Looking to your right, you see a long line of similar anthropomorphic stone pedestals leading off down the chamber, more than twenty in number. Each bears a shimmering cloth entirely covering the obvious outline of a human form. Some are large, some are small. Some are male, some are female.

Rising naked from the dais, you take to your feet on a cracked and dusty stone floor. You stand next to a large metal table, covered with stones and gems affixed to its surface. It is highly polished, and you can see yourself reflected upon it. For a brief, unsure moment, you see a wild succession of faces and forms, but the moment passes quickly, and you view yourself as if for the first time.

What do you see?

The idea here is a game somewhere between a Fighting Fantasy book and a Play by Post rpg. In the comments below this post, and in succeeding posts about Tekumel, you the reader take on a personality within the character introduced above, much in the same way you would take on a character in a normal rpg. Each personality sees only itself when it looks in a mirror, and this first comment gives you the opportunity to share what your personality looks like, traditionally one of the first things exposited about a typical Sword & Sorcery character. Does your personality within the character have powerful thews? Buxom charms? Wizened features? It's your choice. Tekumel has no elves, dwarves, gnomes or halflings, but if you're familiar with the other intelligent races, feel free to have your personality be one of them instead.. even a Hlüss or Ssú.

There are an unlimited possible number of personalities within the character, so the more the merrier, and hopefully more personalities will emerge over time. How did all these personalities get in there? Good question!

What is Tekumel like? We'll find out. But to start with, the first thing which comes to the surface about your personality is simply what he or she looks like. As far as whether it's a soldier, a gladiator, a wizard, a priest, or whatever else, that will all come to the fore in time.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the comments!

Off With Their Heads!

2010-11-12T20:49:00.001-05:00

Firstly, you can be one of the first to sign up at the HUGE RUINED PILE fantasy fiction message board! It's only just begun, but I have the feeling it's destined to be the premier internet location for the discussion of fantasy literature.

And now, another deity.

Karth-Gohmon, God of Severed Heads:

Two sorts pray to this god. Those wishing to sever the heads of their enemies, and those wishing to keep their heads attached to their bodies. He stiffly rebukes all who might ask for a painless beheading, as those are someone else's business.

He appears as an animate vertical stack of severed heads, all slightly larger than human-sized. The number of heads varies depending on the level of power he manifests, but is never less than 3. The heads are usually human males, but can be of any race and gender, again usually dependent on the situation. When he speaks, a few words of each sentence come from a different mouth, in succession. If making a particularly strident point, all mouths shout in unison.

Karth-Gohmon is the god of choice for penanggalans, and he is often accompanied by a retinue of prime examples (maximum variables) of this creature.

He is widely known for his blessings and curses, which include:
Blessing of Vorpality - bestowed upon an edged weapon.
The Headsman's Curse - your head leaves your body, but you don't die. Rather, you must carry your head with you, or use temporary means to affix it atop your neck, and use it to eat, breath, etc. There is no wound. Hijinx ensue.

Many other curses and blessings are possible, and the enterprising DM is encouraged to be both devious and beneficent, as appropriate.

It's Alive!

2010-11-11T17:22:00.001-05:00

Hammer Films resurrected after three decades

This is fabulous news for all those of us who look at Christopher Lee and see Dracula instead of Saruman. In the states, the Roger Corman horror & suspense pictures with Vincent Price live in a place next door to them in our brains, but we've long ago admitted we'd never see another 'Masque of the Red Death.' This announcement holds out hope that a similar spirit, if not a similar staff, can be rekindled for our sensory inspiration.

Cabbages!

2010-11-10T21:36:00.001-05:00

Az-Nur, The God of Cabbages:

Blind and only semi-intelligent, it is found sometimes at the center of vast patches of wild cabbages in remote seacoast areas. Once per round it can spawn a small angry warrior infant out of the center of its folds, or from the center of surrounding cabbages. It can also blast antagonists with a wave of ignorance and apathy, with results similar to confusion. If defeated and eaten, it is rumoured that great wealth will come to those who dine on its leaves. It is not as dapper as the illustration above, having neither the limbs nor inclination to wear suits.

Cabbage-Spawn of Az-Nur: Tough, leathery skin gives them AC 7 despite being naked. Additionally, they are only 1-2 feet tall, and thus receive any armor class benefit due to size differences. Each has 4hd, much in the way cabbage flowers have 4 petals, and attack with either hands or any nearby implements. Due to looking like human babies, any lawful or good opponents must save vs. spells or suffer a -2 to hit these highly aggressive but otherwise adorable minions. When killed, they fall to the ground as a scattering of small cabbage leaves.

"Cabbage: a familiar kitchen-garden vegetable about as large and wise as a man's head."
-Ambrose Bierce

Small Doughy Gods

2010-11-09T13:56:00.001-05:00

Ever since James at Grognardia announced his call for petty gods last week, I've been thinking about minor deities. Two things have kept me from submitting a few ideas. I've always been lazy and wafflish about putting stats on my creations, and as far as deities are concerned, I almost never applied stats to them anyway.

Much as voiced by Newt at Sorcerer Under Mountain, I never felt it was appropriate for my players to have any remote chance of actually defeating a god or demi-god in battle. I understand that's kind of the point behind James' idea, and that he tailored it specifically toward petty gods just because of that. I don't have a problem with that at all, and agree that it sounds like a good bit of fun for a high level party in the right situation. The thing is, I'm still left with my own total incompetence at applying stats to deities.

My solution is to post up some of my ideas here, with no stats. I posted some of what I'll be putting up here over the next few days over in Scott's PbP forum. Over there, I offered that others could stat these up and send them to James, and I'll say the same here. Here's the first one below.

Temulac, God of Baking:

Propitiated to ensure the successful completion of pastries, bread, pies and other baked goods. Easily enraged by throwing out leftovers or extras. Appears most commonly as a bulbous naked man covered entirely in flour, with a baker's hat. Those deemed particularly evil in their wastefulness may find themselves turned into some type of small anthropomorphic baked good, remaining sentient but immobile and unable to communicate.