Patrick Stuart, of False Machine fame, is what now has to qualify as an old friend - I first met him in I think 2010. I have vague memories of our first meeting. It would have been in a grimy basement, lit by eerily bright fluorescent strip lights and stinking of sweat and unwashed bodies, underneath a nondescript building at the bottom of an alleyway full of bins in Liverpool's gay nightlife district (the kind of place where you would expect, on any given Friday night, to find people dealing smack, having sex, or murdering each other). This was the home, somewhat incongruously, of a club for wargamers and RPG enthusiasts, and Patrick and I were I believe players in a d20 Modern or Call of Cthulhu campaign (I forget which) that would take place there every Saturday afternoon.
It had a surreal mixture of attendees. Some, like Patrick and I, were vaguely normal or at least normal-adjacent and able to pass in polite society. Others, shall we say, less so. It's hard to remember now, but in 2010 it was still possible for a gaming group to consist of SWP-voting academics, firearm enthusiasts, cosplaying lesbians, crypto-fascist Nazi-memorabilia-collecting weirdos and black Labour Party activists all enjoying being driven insane by Yog-Sothoth together. But it was so, and the sessions were fun, all punctuated by semi-regular trips to the local chippy and/or local off-license.
Later, I ran a campaign for which Patrick was a regular attendee and, later still, we decamped to a slightly more salubrious location (it wasn't that much more salubrious - sessions were often disrupted by the hijinks of the local prostitutes) for various different weekly campaigns that were run over the course of about 2-3 years among friends, sometimes with him as DM, sometimes me, sometimes others. The place served burgers and also had a deep fat frier; we used to come out reeking of the stench of oil and covered in a thin layer of grease, our ears ringing from the absurdly loud shouting of the Magic: The Gathering players we shared the space with. We also did some 'guerilla gaming' in more upscale establishments like a posh cinema and even my own workplace, in the days before RPGs had gained any hipster kudos whatsoever. Now, we live in different cities but been in many online campaigns together; I currently run a weekly game on roll20 and Patrick is a player in it.
This is all a lengthy preamble to establish the basic point that Patrick and I go way back and it is impossible for me to be remotely objective about his work as a result. So there doesn't seem much point exactly in me reviewing Demon Bone Sarcophagus just to say it's brilliant. That wouldn't tell you much at all.
What I am confident in saying is that Patrick (and I'm sure he will hate me saying this) is a bit like the Quentin Tarantino of the RPG industry in that you can have faith that whatever he releases will be eccentric and brilliant. Is that the same as saying it be perfect? No. But will it be much, much, much better than 95% of anything else that is getting released and which people are backing for £60 or whatever on Kickstarter, in much the same way that Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is still being talked about a hundred times more frequently than any other film released in 2019? Yes. I mean, I grew up in the 1980s and 1990s. I remember what D&D modules used to look like and what RPG companies used to get away with releasing. Demon Bone Sarcophagus is the kind of thing one couldn't even dare to dream of owning in those days. Buy it.
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I know Jason Thompson less well, but well enough to vouch for him as a good bloke. I've written a biggish setting chapter for a major new relevant-to-your-interests game he's created, hope to work with him on other projects in future, and rate him highly as an artist, writer, and person. So, again, I can't really be objective about Dungeon Babies, a supplement for 5e in which, yes, you play a dungeoneering baby (well, toddler really), and which, to quote Jason himself, 'is a real thing!'. And it really is - yes, the concept is more what used to be called 'beer-and-pretzels' on rpg.net, but to his credit, Jason hasn't just come up with a fun idea and thrown it out there on a single page PDF. He's adopted exactly the right approach and played the whole thing with a relatively straight bat, putting together a proper 76-page release with variant rules, new spells, new feats, and the like. In other words, he's taken the concept as seriously as it needs to be taken and followed through on it to make the game playable, safe in the knowledge that the humour is something that will be generated at the table (see my thoughts on this kind of thing here). The result is a really charming little product that any parent (or grandparent) is going to have great fun with. Again - buy it.
We are not so much on a different wavelength when it comes to DBS as using an entirely different particle.
ReplyDeleteYour commitment to your friend is admirable and I find therein no fault.
This being said: DBS's shortcomings in editing, format, layout, brobdignagian and fatal as they are, are trivial to the central issue. There is no understanding of what DnD even is. There is a monstrous wildgrowth of ideas that have been squashed into a triangular pressure cooker without attempt to organize them in a harmonious fashion. The normal transition of the mundane into the fantastic has been done away with, leaving a riotous cacophony of sensory impressions vying for attention. Considerations like the level of the adventure, or the interaction with basic building blocks of the game are light-years away. Basic concepts like balanced treasure, considerations of movement, or even how the exploration is meant to take place are alien concepts that exist almost in a parallel universe. The actualization from idea to instance is abandoned halfway through. What elevates this tomb above its dozens of peers? The concept of learning this alien culture to circumvent its traps, advertized as a feature, takes place all of twice and is futile because the culture of Fire is a nonexistant collection of vague concepts without historical precedent. Bow down to avoid the death trap. It has been done countless times.
I should argue the phrase Pretentious Overwritten Disaster is apt. Trim all the fat, fix the layout, and you are left with something still above average, but no work of scintillating brilliance. This is not going on any list with Stonehell, DCO or even Tower of the Stargazer.
"There is a monstrous wildgrowth of ideas that have been squashed into a triangular pressure cooker without attempt to organize them in a harmonious fashion." For some people, myself included, this is a feature, not a bug.
DeleteSorry to sound dismissive - I don't mean to. I just meant to make the trite observation that taste counts for a lot.
DeleteThere is always the matter of taste, which is subjective, but to retreat into taste stifles all discussion (and is revealing). No offence is taken, you are generally candid and I try to nourish a thick skin, as I certainly dish it out.
DeleteThere might be something to the notion that this type of creativity is fundamentally unteachable and actually absorbing the medium that he works in would 'ruin' him. But this does mean that you are thereby reduced to writing material that is inspirational but that is difficult to transfer into praxis. This is a recurring theme. Attempts to formulate a campaign setting are fraught with difficulty because the requirements of doing so are unknown. The author has barely done so, and has not achieved enough familiarity with the concepts to manipulate them to fit an alien milieu because he does not play enough games. Bestiaries are an excellent choice for a writer of such characteristics because it is ultimately left to the GM to apply the concepts. So too tables, maybe a fluff-heavy campaign setting. But the module is a test of Praxis.
Is it possible to write something that is both inspirational and runs well at the table? DCO would certainly answer that question in the affirmative. But the trend since then has been away from useability and towards self-expression. We are left with a gallery of indoor orchids, something to admire on a coffee table but that we are walled off from interacting with directly because they will fall apart. Is the adventure, the most instantiated, least abstract form of RPG product, really the correct venue for that thing?
You hold this man up as the Tarantino of the OSR but Tarantino is above all a movie buff, a cinophile, an unpretentious afficianado of trashy grindhouse and anime and classics alike. A man firmly embedded within the medium in which he operates. Stuart has gone on record barely or not playing his own material. He is ignorant of most of the legacy of D&D. That's not a crime, Jaquays didn't playtest either for example, but it is revealing and it does explain what we are seeing now.
I cannot communicate this for obvious reasons but perhaps you can. The way forward is to hire some sort of consultant, or editor to catch these mistakes because the author and his partner clearly cannot. And assuredly the work will be purchased regardless by tonnes of enthusiasts in rooms lined with marvel figurines but it will gather dust there, inert, something to be gushed over on twitter but nothing that will be broken out for an enjoyable evening of D&D.
The M. Night Shyamalan of the OSR perhaps?
"There might be something to the notion that this type of creativity is fundamentally unteachable and actually absorbing the medium that he works in would 'ruin' him."
DeleteThat's not what I meant. I don't think that's true for a moment. All I meant to say was that a "monstrous wildgrowth of ideas", as you put it, in itself has an appeal beyond its immediate usability. Maybe Tarantino is the wrong comparator. Maybe I should have said that Patrick Stuart's stuff is like late 70s prog rock - the creative excess almost is the point.
(But as an aside, I also disagree that Demon Bone Sarcophagus is not playable. That's an overreaction. Of course you can get an adventure out of it. You just need to read it through first and do a bit of thinking.)
I'm not sure you or Prince will ever reach an accord on the matter (or convince each other of your own POV, coming from different priorities). And that's not a *terrible* thing...just a "thing."
DeleteI am curious, though, Noisms: have you played DBS with Patrick? Have you run it for your own table? Does your praise of the adventure come from having an enjoyable experience of gameplay with the thing?
If so...well, and good! DESCRIBING your enjoyable experience with the work is by far the better way to convince folks (well, to convince folks like me, anyway) that the adventure is worth the investment of time and money.
But if this is all theoretical...if you're just enthused by the lovely piece of "art" that Patrick has created...well, that's kind of missing the point of adventure design with regard to Dungeons & Dragons, isn't it?
Or, to put it another way: if that IS your point (that gameplay doesn't matter), then our priorities are so far askew from each other that, perhaps, some sort of disclaimer is warranted. "Not for Actual Play," or some such. So that those of us looking for gameplay can look elsewhere.
No, it's not that gameplay doesn't matter, and I dispute that DBS can't be played. It evidently can be. There's a big excluded middle here between "unplayable art piece" and "functional nuts-and-bolts dungeon", and DBS is right there in that space. It may be a little bit towards one extreme than another for some people's tastes, but people are painting it as being only worth reading rather than playing and that's clearly nonsense.
DeleteThat said, no, I haven't played it, because I only got it a month or two ago and have another campaign on the go - and also because I don't really like running other people's modules. I still buy them from time to time though!
Indeed, people ARE painting the picture that DBS as "only worth reading rather than playing," and I'm not seeing anything...even in your own post...that argues the opposite side.
DeleteJust saying such a take is "clearly nonsense" doesn't explain WHY it's nonsense. Is it because Patrick markets it as an adventure, thus it must be playable?
I can accept on faith your statement:
There's a big excluded middle here between "unplayable art piece" and "functional nuts-and-bolts dungeon", and DBS is right there in that space.
Great, sure. But that 'space' that DBS occupies does not tell me why it's WORTH playing (rather than worth reading) or even IF it's worth playing (rather than worth reading).
My apologies for seeming like an argumentative troll. Patrick has a lot of creative and artistic talent...far more than me! And, I suppose, I can leave it at that. You answered my question; if you *do* have a chance to run (or play) DBS in the future, I wouldn't mind reading an AP review.
@JB, @PrinceofNothing
DeleteActual play report here (two sessions so far) here:
https://www.reddit.com/r/osr/comments/11kvfsb/needs_must_when_the_devil_drives_demonbone/
C.
Maybe more like the films of David Lynch, which would be better received if he showed a greater understanding/better connection with the conventional?
ReplyDeleteBut then again would never have made Mulholland Drive or Twin Peaks if so...
DeleteI'd rate both Mulholland Drive and the (pilot and) first series of Twin Peaks as excellent. But I would consider each accessible to a general audience member (willing to apply some thought in the case of the former). But aren't these examples where Lynch got the balance between creativity and the conventional spot on. Maybe Mark Frost's contribution to the latter is undervalued?
DeleteThank you so much for the writeup of Dungeon Babies! I'm especially interested what folks in the OSR space think of Dungeon Babies (even though I wrote it for 5e, haha) so I really appreciate it. You got what I was going for with the balance of seriousness and humor.
ReplyDelete