There is a fantastic thread over at the RPG site at the moment entitled Get Off My Lawn: Gamer Generation Gaps. No, not more unsightly ranting about 4th edition. Well, okay, it sort of is. But the poster makes some very interesting points. He's been hanging around the official WotC forums and discussing the 4th edition Monster Manual:
The new 4E Dryad is depicted as angry feminine treant looking thing. Maybe more of a shrubant. Some of the complaints about it were:- Looks too much like the Warhammer Dryad
- Why does the Dryad have to be female?
- The Dryad should look more like a person, specifically an attractive woman.
Now, I understood the first and last complaints, but the middle one took me off guard. Someone else whipped out a dictionary and proved that a dryad is a forest nymph, and nymphs are always female.
Then the lamia was brought up. The new 4E lamia is completely divorced from the mythology of the lamia, and is now a humanoid creature made of bugs that turns into a swarm of scarabs or something. Has nothing to do with the half-woman half-lion it has traditionally been.
Some people pointed to the lamia as an example of where WOTC had "wisely" divorced the creature from mythology and made a "better" creature because of it. They followed this by saying that dryads shouldn't be locked into the idea of beautiful female tree spirits just because mythology says they are, and that the more separated D&D becomes from myth the better D&D is. I've seen many similar arguments made about D&D and history, and the more ahistorical D&D is, the better it is.
The strange thing is that the proponents of this worldview seem to believe that D&D is a better game if knowing something about history and mythology does nothing to improve your game. Also, they all seem to be younger than me, and to have come into the hobby post-Magic:TG.
I'm not sure about the last point, but coincidentally I was thinking about the same thing earlier today while flicking through the 2nd edition Monstrous Manual. I noticed that there are huge differences in tone and flavour between that book and its later editions: the 2nd edition version contains many monsters which are in the spirit of the genuinely mythological/fantastical, from Dryads to Brownies to Sylphs to Mist Dragons, that just aren't there or are vastly different in 3.X and 4th edition. I mean the type of beings that aren't just things to fight; they're creatures born from our own fairy tales who enchant, deceive and mystify. They're deliciously capricious and ambiguous in the way that fairy tale/legendary monsters so often were - just as likely to help or hinder depending on the vagaries of fortune and whim. That sort of "magic" appears to have been almost completely lost from later editions of D&D.
As another poster in the thread put it:
I can see how one might come up with a cool new spin on a mythological concept that weds it to the setting better. When that's done right, it can be cool.
But "become less mythological = better"? Nonononono.
And when it's clearly worse, it certainly does nothing to salvage the concept. An alluring woman tied her tree is a potentially intriguing story element. A treant with bewbs... not so much.
This goes back to Borges and his Book of Imaginary Beings. One of the reasons I like it is that it is a genuine head-trip. The creatures in it aren't just orcs and ogres who are going to stab you with swords. They're Eaters of the Dead. They're birds who live off gold. They're Malaysian ghosts who try to follow you up the staircase to Nirvana. They're serpents with heads at both ends trying to eat each other. Their behaviour is unknowable and incomprehensible. They're part of a completely alien and "fantastical" reality.
There needs to be more of that in D&D, I think. There once was. Dryads in 2nd edition were beautiful nymphs who might cast a magic spell on you and enchant you into being their husband. Not treants with bewbs. And the world was better for it.
Every so often I hear about or read an idea that just sets of a paint-bomb of imagination in my brain.
An example: Jean-Claude Carrière, in the book Conversations About the End of Time, talking of the supreme Hindu God, Vishnu, and his all encompassing nature. Unlike the Judaeo-Christian God, who is symbolised by light, Vishnu can exist just as much in darkness as he can in the sun; it is said that if one person lights a candle, Vishnu is the darkness surrounding that tiny circle of radiance. If a million people light candles and put them together in one place, Vishnu is the darkness surrounding the blaze of that bright fire. If there are gathered a thousand suns, so bright that their collective light shines for billions upon billions of miles across the universe, Vishnu will be the vast darkness which begins at the point where their light fails. That is how big he is.
I love that image. Suddenly, an idea rises up from the ether; high-level Planescape, and the players are going to find the point where all light fades and the Great God's darkness begins...
The new Pathfinder RPG doesn't sound like anything I'd be interested in playing (trying to sell me a new improved version of 3.5 edition D&D is like trying to sell me a new improved version of horse manure) but I'm intrigued in an academic sense to see how well the thing can compete against the big boys. These days most of the RPG industry, as a rule, tries to avoid tackling D&D head-on; you occasionally get the odd Fantasy Heartbreaker cropping up, but a non-D&D fantasy RPG in 2008 generally means something that is trying to do something radically different, like Exalted or REIGN. The era when Role Master or Runequest were valid contenders are over: WotC won that particular war pretty handily. (Although an honourable mention must go to ICE's HARP, which is still fighting its corner and generally knocks the socks off the latest versions of D&D.)
So far, the guys at Paizo really seem to be making a decent fist of it, what with the coup of getting Monte Cook on board, the pretty fantastic-looking production values, and the good idea of releasing "alpha" and "beta" editions for play testing so as to avoid going head-to-head with the release of D&D 4e. The problem for me, apart from the rules, is the setting itself, which has been outlined in a recent blog entry linked to by trollsmyth:
One piece unique to our RPG organized play system is factions. Every faction has its own unique history, culture, style and specialty. Each has its own modus operandi in the ongoing struggle for control of Absalom, and each offers the Pathfinders in their service different boons. Choosing your faction is as important as choosing your character class or race. It helps define your character in the campaign and ties your Pathfinder to one particular nation's destiny.
You see, the idea of factions isn't unique to Paizo's "RPG organized play system". The above paragraph could, with one or two changes of nomenclature, be describing the concept of factions exactly as they exist in the Planescape campaign setting - complete with ongoing struggles for the control of Absalom Sigil and different boons benefits and hindrances. The main difference is that Planescape had a heck of a lot more than five factions, and they were much more interesting and believable, being based broadly on actual philosophies from the real world - from the Epicurean Sensates to the Acosmic Dustmen to the Solipsistic Sign of One. (This is not to mention the other many World Within a City settings which exist throughout the RPG and sci-fi/fantasy canon; Necromunda leaps instantly to mind.)
Even fishier is the fact that Paizo's very acting-guru Monte Cook has his own World Within A City Campaign Setting, Ptolus. This makes Absalom seem not only derivative, but worryingly "influenced" - in the same way that books by inferior authors have tag lines like "in the tradition of Stephen King" - and I don't think it bodes well for the future of Pathfinder.
That said, I'm willing to wait and see what they come up with over the next few days in the way of elaboration.
Not details on the town and its surroundings as I promised a few days ago; instead three Dragon related ideas pilfered from my rpg.net thread, one of which Will Be Used sooner or later during the course of the campaign:
The Crystal Dragon on the Mountaintop
An ancient Crystal Dragon wyrm lives on the top of a mighty mountain peak and has subdued several white dragons to his icy will. His thirst for knowledge of the world and everything in it is surpassed only by his laziness; he sends out his polymorphed white dragon minions amongst the ordinary people, so that they can abduct the wisest and most knowledgeable humans and bring them to him for "conversation". The most entertaining he keeps with him; the rest he sets free - although they have to make their own way home from the mountaintop.
Rumour has it that the wyrm's knowledge of the world is now so great that he can answer any question he is asked, like an oracle. Of course, there is no guarantee that the answer he gives will be the correct one. That all depends on his mood...
The Parsimonious Emerald Dragon
The players find themselves in the clutches of an Emerald Dragon who has been the victim of too many adventurer-thieves over the course of the centuries. Now it is the last straw; the players are going to track down every item of treasure that has ever been stolen from the beast, down to the very last copper, the very last piece of opal. And the dragon is going to make sure of it by dominating them with mighty geas spells which will drain the life from them if they disobey.
The Topaz Dragon and the Crabmen
On an inaccessible stretch of coastline of craggy rocks and sheer, high cliffs, live a tribe of ignorant Crabmen. They have begun worshipping a local Topaz Dragon who has taken to sunning himself on a patch of rocks near where they live; every few days they bring him some of their babies as sacrifices (they don't mind; they give birth to thousands every year) and in return he goes and attacks the local Sahuagin every so often with his psionics and cones of dehydration.
Then some innocent fishermen - or perhaps not-so-innocent adventurers - happen to kill and eat some Crabmen, and this makes the Topaz Dragon very, very angry. Not because he likes the Crabmen. But if humans go around eating them it means less baby crabs for him to eat...
Too bad I can't use all of them; I think my players would get dragon-ed out if I did.
I remember reading an essay a few years ago whose title and author I've forgotten, but which was about Icons of Western Art. It sounds like it was written by George Steiner but for some reason I want to say Stephen Greenblatt; it's probably neither.
Anyway, it was all about how every genre of Western art has, basically, a Mona Lisa. That is, each one has a single iconic example which comes to signify the genre itself, and which in a sense becomes the platonic 'ideal' form. What is surprising (according the author whose name I've forgotten) is that very often these titanic pieces aren't the best. The Mona Lisa is mediocre, Hamlet is one of Shakespeare's worst plays, The Lord of the Rings is very much a flawed masterpiece, and Moby Dick would benefit from having two thirds of it cut out - but something about these works caught onto our culture's collective imagination and wouldn't let go.
Now, RPGs aren't really art, but it's funny how the same applies in our hobby. I'm talking, of course, about Dungeons and Dragons, especially its older varieties. There are so many better - much better; quicker, more intuitive, easier and more comprehensive - examples. There are huge, silly, awful flaws rife within the game. Whole swathes of the rules don't even make any sense. So many of the assumptions it is founded on are utterly bizarre.
And yet it works. And not only does it work; it's the best role playing game ever. Why this should be is as much a mystery as to why Mona Lisa attracts throngs of thousands to the Louvre each day and why Hamlet still occupies the position of "greatest play ever written".
Spot the difference:
I wonder if anybody's ever statted up the Mona Lisa...
The Mona Lisa
Chaotic Evil Cleric of Diinkarazan
Level 11
.......
More literary psuedery, thanks in large part to Max and his link to an online, illustrated version of Borges' fantasy bestiary, The Book of Imaginary Beings.
Chilean monsters which I intend to stat out, D&D-ize, and otherwise systematizally banalify:
The Hide is an octopus that lives in the sea and has the dimensions and appearance of a cowhide stretched out flat. Its edges are furnished with numberless eyes, and, in that part which seems to be its head, it has four more eyes of a larger size. Whenever persons or animals enter the water, the Hide rises to the surface and engulfs them with an irresistible force, devouring them in a matter of moments.
(Frankly, I don't think D&D had nearly enough giant carnivorous octopi with numberless eyes.)
The Strong Toad is an imaginary animal different from other toads in that its back is covered with a shell like that of a turtle. This Toad glows in the dark like a firefly and is so tough that the only way to kill it is to reduce it to ashes. It owes its name to the great power of its stare, which it uses to attract or repel whatever is in its range.
(Because D&D plainly also doesn't have enough luminescent giant Strong amphibians.)
The Alicanto is a nocturnal bird that seeks its food in veins of gold and silver. The variety that feeds on gold may be identified by the golden light that gleams from its wings when it runs with them open (for it cannot fly); the silver-feeding Alicanto is known, as one might expect, by a silvery light. The fact that the bird is flightless is not due to its wings, which are perfectly normal, but to the heavy metallic meals that weigh down its crop. When hungry it runs swiftly; when gorged it is hardly able to crawl.
(Because D&D also plainly doesn't have enough birds that eat precious metal.)
My favourite is the Hide, because monstrous octopi are just brilliant. Oh, what the heck, let's stat the thing out.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Intelligence: Very (11-12)
No. Appearing: 1
HD: 10+1
THAC0: 10
AC: 2
No. of Attacks: 8
Damage/Attack: 1d8x8
Special Attacks: If the Hide manages to hit the same opponent with four of its tentacles, it has engulfed the unfortunate creature and will proceed to consume it. It does this within three rounds, during which time the victim loses 33% of its hit points per round. If the Hide loses 50% of its hit points during that period, it releases its captive alive.
The Hide can also spray an ink cloud once per day. The cloud has the combined effects of a Darkness, 15' Radius and Stinking Cloud spell.
Special Defenses: The Hide has tough, rubbery skin and suffers only half damage from slashing or bludgeoning weapons. Piercing weapons do normal damage.
Hmm, maybe I'll give him more hit dice...
I'm taking a break from discussing my new campaign, because I want to jot down some words on Jorge Luis Borges. I haven't read enough of his work to call myself a fan, but everything I've read I've loved; like China Mieville he's a writer who you can enjoy reading even if you disagree with the politics, and also like Mieville he has an irresistible affection for the weird that comes across in all his work (although of course Mieville has nothing on Borges).
I recently put a thread up on rpg.net in which I speculated on using Borges' Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Recognition as the basis for a campaign setting; I intend to one day write the idea up for a system like FATE or a heavily doctored SOTC. Recently, though, I've also been thinking about The Library of Babel as something to use in a Planescape campaign. (The story is out of copyright, and a translation is available here, if you're interested. It's a highly recommended short sharp shock, of Argentinian-Magic-Realist weirdness crossed with a Socratic philosophical thought experiment; perhaps that's as much your bag as it is mine.)
The Library of Babel is a Universe of books. In it are exactly 251312000 volumes. Each book contains exactly 410 pages, and each page contains exactly 40 lines of 80 characters. No book is the same - their contents are made up of random letters, spaces and punctuation marks.
Now, most of the volumes are of course gibberish - just garbled text. However, it is also the case that the library contains some books of coherent text, by virtue of the fact that it contains every conceivable combination of letters, characters and spaces. Indeed, it contains not only every novel ever written, but some novels that have not yet been written; it also contains all variations on those novels - so that not only is a complete copy of, say, The Catcher in the Rye hidden somewhere in the middle of one of its volumes, but there is also somewhere a Catcher in the Rye with one different letter somewhere in the text, one with two different letters, one with three... And of course another one with one other different letter somewhere in the text, and one with two other different letters... And the same for every novel ever written. Every non-fiction book too, of course. And, more interestingly for our purposes - every spellbook.
You can probably see where I'm going with that.
The point of the Library of Babel, however, is that there is no catalogue. The books not only contain random text; they are also organized randomly. Whole sects of people live in the library, trying to make sense of it and quantify it, but the task is too great. They disagree not only on the system they should use, but also on the very philosophies underpinning the system; some go so far as to believe that even the random volumes - which make up the overwhelming majority of the Library's books - contain hidden meanings which, once deciphered, will unlock the key to a new reality.
This is perfect for a Planescape campaign, in which the characters are sent to recover a single mighty spell book from the Library. How do they find it amidst the effectively almost infinite shelves? How do they make sure the copy they have is perfectly correct, and not one of the multitude of volumes which contain one or two crucial mistaken characters somewhere in their midst? How do they deal with the mysterious denizens of the Library's honeycomb hallways and archives: the different sects and cults and philosophers, and the monsters who prey on them? How do they find their way around its labyrinthine shelves? What arguments occur between the Bleaker who revels in the apparent meaninglessness of the place, the Godsman who believes it will reveal the path to Godhood, and the Sensate who wants to read every one of its volumes?
It is the stuff dream Planescape dreams are made of, and the kind of thing that makes me wish that the thing was still supported. I guess it was always just too different.
(Incidentally, for those who've never read or played a Planescape product, and for those who tried it but didn't like it, check out last month's Godzilla Gaming Podcast [April 22, 2008]. In it there is a lengthy retro-review of the setting from two self-declared fans, and also a half-hour chat with the famous Monte Cook, who with Zeb Cook and Tony DiTerlizzi came up with most of Planescape.)
The Complete Thief's Handbook is one of the best source books ever produced by TSR, and by extension for the D&D range overall. No, scratch that; it's one of the best source books ever produced for a role playing game, full stop. It's just full to bursting with goodness.
One of its many virtues is a section on how to randomly roll-up Thieves' Guilds. There are tables galore to tell you the relations of the Thieves' Guilds with other organizations, the general alignment of its membership, the type of rulership, and much else besides. With a little tweaking they're perfect for fleshing out an Adventurer's Guild too. Let's see what the Rulership tables dig up in helping me to flesh out the Owlery.
My first roll, on the Guild Rulership table, came up with Complex/Mix. Immediately, that's interesting. I think I'm going to go with a Ruling Council that ostensibly has a leader, the Guild Master, but the other Council members (d3+2 in number; 5 is the result) are trying to depose him. Why is this the case? Well, first of all, let's make another roll on the Rulership Style Table, which will give results on three axes (Strong-Weak, Cruel-Just, and Despotic-Populist).
The results are Fairly Strong, Fairly Cruel, and Fairly Despotic. Hmm, a little bland, but let's go with it. The Guild Master is a tough, respected veteran of many adventurers who, while you would not call him a tyrant, rules with an iron fist. His word goes, and the Ruling Council have been reduced to an advisory role under his rule. However, it is clear that the Guild Master is growing old. He won't be around forever, and already the Ruling Council are plotting their takeover and how they will run the Owlery once that he is out of the picture. This should allow for plenty of politicking and behind-the-scenes machinations
Now, I need to tweak the tables a little to suit my campaign, and make some rolls to determine the nature of the Guild Master and the Ruling Council members. First, levels; d8+8 for the Guild master, d6+8 for the Ruling Council. The results: 14, then 7, 14, 13, 10, and 7.
Now classes: I'll roll a d12. 1-2 will be a fighter, 3-4 a cleric, 5-6 a magic-user, 7-8 a dwarf, 9-10 a halfling, and 11-12 a thief. (I don't want any of them to be elves; the campaign is going to be elf-lite, for the simple reason that I would be a happy man if I never even heard the word 'elf' ever again.) And hey presto, we have a Magic User, a Fighter, a Halfling, another Halfling, a Dwarf, and another Halfling. Interesting. Already a pattern suggests itself: the Halflings and the Dwarf using their power and influence together, and hoping to edge out the two humans (the Guild Master and his loyal lieutenant?).
Finally, Alignments. Straight up d10 with 1 being Lawful Good and 9 being Chaotic Evil, with 0 a roll-again: NE, then LN, LE, TN, LE, CE. Well, that changes things a little! Without Good characters in there the whole tone of life inside the Owlery takes a dark and machiavellian bent. I quite like it; plotting and scheming will clearly be the norm. So let's flesh out these evil halflings.
The Guild Master, Durwent Slate. Neutral Evil Level 14 Magic User
Durwent was once a Magic User of some considerable power, and an imposing figure of a man, too; tall, barrel-chested, with black hair and beard flecked with grey and glaring, bright eyes. The years have started to dull him, though, as repeated chopping will an axe. There are whispers that it is only a matter of time before senility takes him, and already his temper is growing increasingly irrational, his conversation increasingly rambling.
The First Member of the Council, October Forestaff. Lawful Neutral Level 7 Fighter
October bas been a comrade and partner of Durwent's for many years; indeed it was October who nominated Durwent to be Guild Master when the previous one retired. He was adventuring with the older man from the age of 15, and looks up to him as a father rather than as to a friend or Master. He bears the brunt of Durwent's increasingly frequent rages with good grace, and does his best to foil the plotting of the other Council members in his own simple way. He was never one for politicking and prefers to deal with enemies at the point of his Guisarme.
The Second Member of the Council, Jettie Crackenridge. Lawful Evil Level 14 Halfling
Jettie is the older sister of another Council member, Jude. Both of them appear alike in temperament to outsiders, being calm and collected in all things. But where Jude's outward appearance is genuine - he is the mediator, forever non-committal - Jettie's apparent equanimity conceals an ambition and an arrogance to rival the blackest-hearted of Dragons. She wants to be Guild Master, and what she wants she takes - sooner or later. Like Jude she has unusual, amethyst-coloured eyes, coal-black hair and dark chestnut coloured skin. Nobody is sure where the two of them hail from originally.
The Third Member of the Council, Jude Crackenridge. True Neutral Level 13 Halfling
As his Alignment suggests, Jude is an unflappable, calming influence on the Council - always the first to advise caution and to allay hostility. However, his ultimate loyalty to his sister should not be doubted; like her he wants nothing but to see Jettie Crackenridge in the position of Guild Master. Where he differs is how to achieve it: Jettie wants to take the seat by deception and stealth; Jude merely wants to wait until it falls into her lap.
The Fourth Member of the Council, Gurt Brayer. Lawful Evil Level 10 Dwarf
Gurt is Brayer by name, and a Brayer by nature - loud, obnoxious, opinionated and rude. He sees himself as the natural successor to Durwent, being clearly the most intelligent, powerful and important member of the Council. Any day now he expects to be chosen as Durwent's heir when the old human stands down - and to not incidentally be the first Dwarven Guild Master in the Owlery's long history. His brash and blatant xenophobia and arrogance should not deceive the unwary, however. He is a canny fighter and knows the laws and regulations of the Guild better than any other - his special area of expertise being twisting those laws and regulations in his and his cronies' favour.
The Fifth Member of the Council, Freeman Joyce. Chaotic Evil Level 7 Halfling
Freeman Joyce is hated and feared by most of the members of the Council, but it is considered necessary to have him around "where they can keep an eye on him". In other words, it is better that he sit at the Council table than rabble-rouse and cause trouble in the great common hall amongst the ordinary members. Of course, he creates enough problems even so with his endless agitating and calls for revolution - although nobody is really sure what his ultimate goal is other than "shaking down the status quo" and "blowing the cobwebs out of the place". He is a rebel without a cause; an Iago or a Steerpike, sewing the seeds of strife apparently for the pure thrill of it. What he lacks in physical power he more than makes up for in his horrible charisma; it is his popularity amongst the more impressionable guild members that makes him dangerous.
I think that weaves together a few nice strands of intrigue for the PCs to get involved in as they grow in power and influence in the guild. Next up: the town where the Owlery is situated, and its immediate surroundings.
So, Adventurer's Guilds.
Every guild needs a guildhall. That's a given. This particular Adventurer's Guild is located in a big, ramshackle old building that everybody calls The Owlery; it was built centuries ago at the behest of a forgotten burgher of the town who used it to breed a certain species of fish owl. (The descendants of those birds still inhabit the rafters of the building to this day, making their living by fishing in the nearby lake.) The Owlery is a sprawling labyrinth of a building, full of cul-de-sac corridors, mezzanines, false doors and spiral staircases which the original owner built to confuse thieves. These days it mostly confuses the guild's members, many of whom still can't find their way around despite having visited the place for years. It is full of collected artifacts that members have donated over the centuries, from huge vases to stuffed leopards to ancient paintings.
Inside The Owlery are offices of the guild's various Aldermen, Kerzenmeisters and other functionaries, several council chambers for meetings of the Ruling Council, a dormitory, a great Common Hall for feasting and carousing, and The Library.
The Library is a vast collection of diaries, letters, bestiaries, explorer's accounts, and treatises on any and every subject related to the Adventuring profession. It is the accumulated knowledge of dozens of generations of guild members, and is the organization's most prized possession. As such it is jealously guarded.
The Librarians
The Librarians are twenty-four in number; twelve replacements are elected every five years, and each Librarian serves a ten-year term. They are generally men and women of exceptionally trustworthy character, but nevertheless they are each bound to their duties by a Geas spell cast by a high-ranking Wizard member of the Ruling Council. Most commonly chosen are Wizards and Clerics, but prospective Librarians can be of any class. However, only those of a Lawful alignment may be chosen.
Librarians are typically of 6-9th level, and should be equipped accordingly. As well as their class and racial powers, they gain the benefit of a magical ring, of which there are twenty-four in existence. These magical rings are plain, made from copper, and are entirely unnoteworthy in appearance. They allow the Librarians to Know Alignment, Detect Evil and Detect Magic at will. Upon leaving their posts, the Librarians are expected to pass on their rings to their replacements.
The Golems
Five golems are placed in different locations in the Library. To the unknowing, they appear to be somewhat unusual-looking statues or artifacts, but they will spring to life should the Library need defending or should a thief be suspected. The first is a Gargoyle Golem who stands near the entrance. The second is a Glass Golem who is part of the stained-glass window on the fourth floor. The third is a Clay Golem who stands in a dusty corner under a staircase on the second floor. The fourth is an Iron Golem who is disguised as a suit of armour in the lobby. The fifth and final one is a Stone Golem situated between two book cases on the third floor.
Loans
Some books can be loaned for a period of one or two weeks, or a month. They are expected to be returned by noon on the due date, and the rules are very strict; one hour after noon has passed is considered too late. Every day that a book is overdue a fine of 10gp is levied. After a month has passed beyond the due date, the fine is ratcheted up to 50gp per day. After six weeks have passed, the penalty is a minor magical item or potion. After two months, the Librarians will "defer the matter to the Ruling Council", which generally means that the culprit will be found with a scrying spell and a Retriever summoned to recover the book.
Tomorrow: the Ruling Council.
I'm starting to think about maybe considering the possibility of just perhaps running a PBP or PBEM D&D Rules Cyclopedia game, so I can try out some of my recent crackpot ideas. The Big List of Things I Want to Include/Experiment With (TBLOTIWTI/EW) is as follows:
- I want the campaign to be sandbox; There Shalt Be No Plot Arcs.
- I want the flavour to be a kind of heady brew of Old School dungeoneering, Lovecraftian weirdness, Planescape-inspired philosophy-with-clubs, and 2nd Edition AD&D above-ground high-fantasy wilderness adventure.
- I want it to embrace randomness, thus:
- There will be random encounter tables galore, with a light smattering of random flavour event tables into the bargain.
- There will be no Rolling of 4d6s and dropping the lowest or Rolling 3d6 and assigning to taste or any other such nefariousness; Stats will be generated on a "3d6-in-order, create-a-character from-there-and-make-the-most-of-it" basis.
- I want to include rarely used (at least by me) monsters that my recent foray into the 2nd Edition Monstrous Manual has unearthed, such as:
- Giant Crayfish (of course)
- Crabmen
- Aarakocra
- Kenku
- Medusae
- Blink Dogs
- Displacer Beasts
- I want there to be henchmen and hirelings - see this post, which Sham coincidentally made at the same time I started thinking about the idea.
- I want there to be an Adventuring Guild.
The last item is one I haven't brought up in this blog before, but it's a concept that has slowly been growing on me over the last year or two. Until recently I'd been keen to pooh-pooh the idea that adventurers actually thought of themselves as a profession; most of my games had involved 'ordinary folk' being thrust by the vagaries of chance into doing whatever they were doing - or, at the very least, ex-soldiers and wandering tinkers and the like who were 'adventuring' in an unselfconscious way. I still prefer that type of campaign, I think, but I'm ready to toy with the idea that there is a class of people in "Blah Blah World" (I haven't thought of a name yet) who see themselves as Adventurers with a Capital A and treat it as an actual way to make a living (and get rich, or whatever).
I'll expand on this concept some more in my next blog entry; there are lots of ideas floating around inside my head (mostly to do with the Adventuring Guild's internal politics, rules, tax/fee systems, and Library of Adventuring) but I need to get a better fix on them before I start committing them to (digital) paper.
