Druids: First Thoughts

Now we move onto a subclass that I've been dreading having to work with. Hell, my first few notes on the subject (when I started thinking about this post) are from October 5th. I've been procrastinating for a while, but now that I've gone down the road of adapting subclasses to Holmes, it's a challenge I need to get on to, dread or not.

[dreading as much as the monk? Probably more, actually...but the monk is close behind in the "what-am-I-going-to-do-with-THIS-thing" category"]

Over the years, I can remember at least a couple-three times when a buddy would approach me with a desire to play a druid. To which I have always replied:

"Why? Are you [insert derogatory, non-PC adjective here]?"

[this, by the way, is the kind of flippant, dick banter that nearly everyone hates and that most guys still do, at least with our (usually male) friends. I've really been trying to cure myself of this stupid habit the last few years]

Fact is, some people dig the whole druid concept (for a myriad of reasons), but I always looked at the class through the most superficial of lenses: a weak-ass cleric-wannabe in leather armor who can grow trees and turn into a bird, and whose major abilities seem fuckall worthless in a subterranean environment (the basic setting for a game with the word "Dungeons" in the title). It was buddy, gaming acquaintance, and all-around smart guy Heron who pointed out to me that druids that there's an awful lot of natural "life" in a subterranean environment: lichens and molds and bats and rats and insects and lizards and fish and...well, you get the picture. The underground is teeming with natural life waiting for a guardian to communicate and ally with...it doesn't all have to be forests and fairies.

Besides which we also associate druids with megalithic stone structures (even when such association isn't necessarily warranted...although it's clear druids used sites like Stone Henge, the sites weren't built by druids; sorry Spinal Tap). Stone, carved stone...like the stuff used to line your average cyclopean dungeon. One might figure the druid to be as nice a compliment to a group of spelunking treasure seekers as a dwarf, given the nature priest's skill set.

And yet, we really don't know WHAT a druid is or was. I mean, a "druid" is not an an archetype that is found across cultures in the same way as, say, a fighter, or a wizard, or a thief is. A druid was a specific class of individual found within the ancient Celtic society...one that was stamped out by the Romans as they conquered Gaul and Britain. Here's about all we know (or think we know) from mostly Roman accounts:

• They were learned and well-respected within their own society.
• They were in charge of religious activities and justice (acting as judges) and may have had medical training, too.
• They were exempt from military service and could act as intermediaries between armies (and even stop a battle). 
• They may have been trained in secret (like a mystery cult) in forests and/or caves.
• They were astronomers and practiced divination.
• They believed in reincarnation and the immortality of the human soul.
• In Ireland (perhaps elsewhere), "druids" were a bit synonymous with "magicians," and were belived to have magic powers (usually curse-type spells).

And that's it...everything else is unreliable, speculated, or derived from fiction, or (in the case of fantasy gaming), derived from the earliest editions of D&D.

Druids first appears as a monster in Supplement I (Greyhawk) for OD&D, with the following description:

DRUIDS: These men are priests of a neutral-type religion, and as such they differ in armor class and hit dice, as well as in movement capability, and are combination clerics/magic-users. Magic-use ranges from 5th through 7th level, while clericism ranges from 7th through 9th level. Druids may change shape three times per day, once each to reptile, bird, and animal respectively, from size as spall as a raven to as large as a small bear. They will generally (70%) be accompanied by numbers of barbaric followers (fighters), with a few higher-level leaders (2-5 fighters of 2nd-5th levels) and a body of normal men (20-50).

This here may be as close to accurate as any edition of D&D ever gets to the druid, at least in the "adapting-a-historic-culture-to-a-fantasy-wargame" sense of the word "accurate." This is a group that a Roman army might have encountered during a conquest of (fantasy) Gaul, combining the (legendary) rumors of magic power with the (historic) role of the druid as religious and cultural leaders. Everything that comes later is derived from this.

Do these look like adventurers?

Not that there's all that much that comes later. There is the druid subclass (of cleric) that is presented in Supplement III (Eldritch Wizardry), followed by the subclass as presented in the PHB (nearly the exact same, save that it goes to 14th level instead of 13th and ups the hit die type), followed by the 2E version (a subclass of priest) that is...well, nearly the same as the 1E version. Mentzer's BECMI includes the druid as a proto-prestige class of cleric (where 9th level clerics of neutral alignment suddenly take off their metal armor and start living in the woods with a different spell set), and 3E is, well, almost exactly the same as the 1E version (though with skills and scaling in the D20 mode), save that it introduces the idea of an animal companion to the druid...a pet/bodyguard that would grow in power as the druid did (in the true D20 method of constant scaling).

4E was the first edition to really go "outside the box" that was first codified in Eldritch Wizardry (even AD&D had animal followers for druids, similar to 3E's "companions"). I wrote about that here, and while I think it's a fairly ridiculous (i.e. "stupid") concept, it's level of inaccuracy isn't probably all that worse than the "traditional" druid class.

[actually, scratch that: I just went back and reread the druid presented in the 4E PHB2 and it is the most grossly stupid thing I've ever seen. There is absolutely ZERO correlation between that class and the historic druid...it might as well be called "the Mowgli" or "Feral Child." Really, what were they thinking? If this post wasn't already long, I'd print the passage for open ridicule]

For me, though, the main issue isn't one of accuracy or historicity or even gameplay (in the "how does this class's attributes work in play" sense). No, the main issue is how the concept of a druid fits within the implied setting of D&D. How is having a culturally appropriated role like a Celtic druid any different from, say, an African witchdoctor, or a Japanese samurai, or a Sioux shaman? Isn't it just a different form of cleric? Do we need such a subclass? Especially in a game that purports to be "setting free" (at least with regard to proper noun religions and nations and cultures)?

Don't misunderstand me...there's a part of me that LIKES the inclusion of a "back-to-nature priest" class as an opposite number to the "organized temple religious crusader" cleric. I like having that dichotomy AND I think it does set up nice rivalries for any setting one cares to craft for the game. You see this trope in fantasy fiction all the time: the old, natural (read "pagan") religion that has been suppressed/usurped by the new, warlike religion. Usually features also the neolithic or early Iron Age culture getting conquered by the steel-clad troops of an invading army (see the history of Westeros in Game of Thrones for an easy example...there are plenty of others).

But consider this: in such a campaign setting (which, BTW, has been done to death and is thus kind of boring), wouldn't the post-apocalyptic landscape set-up to make priests of the "old antiquated religion" (i.e. druids) to be the bad guys left behind in these ancient cave complexes (dungeons)? NOT platemail-wearing "evil high priests" (clerics) but dudes with hide armor and feathers and shillelaghs? I mean, that would make sense, right?

[as much sense as anything in this damn game makes]

If there is some sort of "cosmic war" between Lawful and Chaotic forces ("good gods" versus "evil gods") with clerics being the agents on both sides, where the hell are these "druids" supposed to fit? What place does such a neutral party play in such a war? Especially considering their magic is also supposed to come from "divine" sources (as a subclass of cleric). Now you have to start sacking yourself cosmological questions in order to even include the subclass...which is a pain in the ass for what is (ostensibly) a "generic fantasy" game.

Irritating...with a capital "I."

And sure...it doesn't have to matter to play the game; you can just throw whatever kitchen sink stuff you want into your campaign to make it "fun." For me, I want a slightly higher level of quality control. Which is why I bother to care about this shit.

SO...as I prepare to write-up my own version of the druid subclass for Holmes ('cause I set out to do this thing and I want to see the exercise through), I find myself not even knowing where to start. I'm pretty sure it won't look anything like the "feral boy" class of 4E. I'm pretty sure that it will need a whole new spell list, just as I did with the illusionist (no comments, people? I suppose folks aren't familiar enough with the illusionist class as it exists to see the coolness...). And that's about all I know.

But it's Market Day, so I've got to sign off. I'll be reflecting on the druid throughout the day (and maybe longer). Any input/opinions/thoughts people want to throw my way are welcome. This one's going to need all the help I can get.

[maybe I should do the monk first...]

Delving 4E: An Interlude

AKA "Delving 4E Part 3.5"

In my last post, I gave my thoughts about the classes and builds of 4th Edition, specifically some of the stuff I liked with regard to conceptualizations (is that a word? spellcheck says yes). The post only addressed classes in 4E PHB, and long-time players of D&D will notice the conspicuous absent of a couple-three loooooong time classes of the D&D game: the druid and the bard.

The druid is the real glaring absence...available as a player character class since the days of OD&D (it first appeared in Supplement 3: Eldritch Wizardry), the druid is a standard class in both AD&D 1 and 2, D&D 3 (and 3.5), and even makes it into BECMI as a "proto-prestige class" of cleric (see the Mentzer Companion set). It provides a natural (as in "nature") counterpoint to the cleric's more organized worship and is a bit of a bridge between the magic-user and cleric archetypes, gaining some of the spells and benefits of each, as well as hybrid selection of weapons and armor.

It is also the favorite class of my buddy +Heron.

The bard's history is a little shorter, only first appearing in an appendix of the original AD&D PHB, and never in any of the "basic" games (the one in my B/X Companion doesn't count). Unlike the druid, the bard has undergone several significant revisions over the years, beginning first with its jump from 1E to 2E (where it went from a more martial class to more "trickster" as rogue subclass) and from there to 3E where it became a hybrid support class with an emphasized arcane (wizardry) flavor, and a favored class of gnomes (by 3.5).

The bard was my favorite class back in my 1E days. But that's a post for another time.

I should probably also mention the assassin, which first appeared in OD&D's Supplement 2 (Blackmoor) before the 1E PHB. While 2nd edition initially axed the class, it later appeared in the Al-Qadim setting book as a religious-zealot reimagining, as well as a "monster class" (the Headsman/Thug) in the BECMI Master set. As of 3E, it still wasn't a core class, though it makes and appearance in the 3E DMG as a prestige class. As it's been MIA for so many years, its absence from 4E isn't nearly as surprising as the lack of druid and bard options.

Welp, the fourth edition's PHB2 does contain both the bard and the druid, along with updated versions of 3E's barbarian and sorcerer class, and something called an avenger...an assassin rewrite of serious religious overtones (something reminiscent of video games like that bald Hitman guy with the numbers on his scalp or the white-hooded Guild dudes).

[for the record, I draw a very severe distinction between the raging berserker of 3E and the flavor/skill-heavy barbarian that appeared in the 1E Unearthed Arcana]

The PHB2 also adds three completely new (to D&D) classes in the invoker, shaman, and warden, as well as additional race options in the deva, gnome, half-orc, and shifter. As I said in my earlier post, I'm not a fan of 4E's races (especially the new ones), though I have to admit the gnome tickles me a bit with its "fade away" power (would have been a useful ability for my old gnome assassin, Shoon Grinblade).

Even the cover art is bad.

Here's the thing: with one possible exception, all these classes leave me ice-cold. Or worse, they just plain irritate me...both in conception and execution, most of the stuff in the PHB2 is a big bucket of crap. In my opinion, of course...perhaps other people have found these options to be fun, interesting, and exciting. For me? No, sorry.

I mean the druid...the druid, what the f---! The druid is some sort of lycanthrope from the get go (though only a fight-worthy one...the PHB2 suffers A LOT from the basic premise of fourth edition...). The warden appears to simply be "the other druid" for people who don't want some sort of were-priest. Maybe they had too many options for druids and split it up over two or three classes? But then, you've already got this shifter race, and... I don't get it. What's with cranking the animalism up to 11 in this book?

When Heron told me druids were his favorite class and was waxing eloquent on their virtues, never once did he mention the way their dire wolverine attributes matured with level progression.

[ha...my child just saw the PDF images of the gnomes on my computer and asked, "Are those gelflings?" We just watched The Dark Crystal the other night]

[it's funny because they don't really look like gnomes]

Anyway...aside from the gnome and the concept of a shapeshifter race (I'm a fan of Roberson's Cheysuli books, and I think the archetype is pretty good "fantasy;" I've used it to good effect with, for example, DragonQuest in the past), the only thing I really liked in the PHB2 was the bard, and its optional martial build, which reminds me very much of my "glory days" playing 1E AD&D. It would be tempting (for me) to play such a character...but then, I suspect, that even the most martially oriented bard would look pretty tame next to other class-builds (and not just the fighter). Maybe.

So, yeah; that's it for the PHB2. There's nothing else here that I really want to comment on. Not in a positive, constructive fashion anyway.

Leveling Up

The cleric I’ve been playing in an on-line B/X game just hit 2nd level after four (plus) months of play. This is the first time I’ve earned a level in ANY edition of D&D (on-line or not) in YEARS…as in, more than a decade.

Four months is a long time, but having played and run PBP and PBEM games in the past I understand it takes 3-5 times as long to get anything accomplished in this format…and it takes longer the more players involved in the game. We’ve really only had three (four?) excursions to the local dungeon in that time, so that’s about a “par” rate of return for B/X, maybe even a little quick. But then again, clerics advance quicker than most other classes (only 1500XP needed for 2nd level), and my character receives an XP bonus for a high Wisdom score.

SO…how do I feel about the accomplishment?

Honestly, gratified. I see what all the fuss is about: why D&D, with its class/level system, has enjoyed such immense popularity over the years. As a DM, I’ve always enjoyed seeing my players “level up” because it A) makes for happier players, and B) opens up new adventure opportunities for ME as a DM (using niftier traps, monsters, encounters, treasures, etc.). But it’s been a long while since I was on the other side of the screen…and it IS cool to have a concrete measure of achievement.

I just want to note a few additional thoughts:

- While it’s a nice “rah-rah” moment to go up in level, it’s especially nice that the level up brings a concrete increase to my character’s effectiveness. As a cleric, my character receives his first 1st level spell (awesome) and a boost to his turning ability (auto-turning skeletons!), in addition to the bonus hit points. If my character was a fighter or dwarf, achieving 2nd level would do nothing but give me an extra roll for HPs. As a design consideration, rewards mean more when they carry some actual value other than a +1 BAB or a couple more skill points.

- Having different XP rates is nice because it staggers the leveling of party members, “keeping the party going” (so to speak) over several sessions. That’s hip…I’m looking forward to the next guy’s turn, which should occur shortly, followed by our fighter and then our illusionist. When you have everyone level at once (such as in D20), you get one “big party” followed by long, dry stretches of grinding.

- There is definitely a “sweet spot” to leveling up and…for me…it’s sooner rather than later. 20+ sessions (what would amount to 4-5 months in a table-top game) is waaaay too long; at least during the low to mid levels. Unfortunately, it’s the low levels where leveling seems to take the longest, due to the poor output of XP from tiny monsters and stingy treasures.

- Personally, it’s not just quantity of the accomplishment, but the quality of the accomplishment that is satisfying. To me, this game feels like I’m doing more than just “going through the motions” of kicking in doors and stabbing things. There’s mystery, there’s history, there’s “local politics,” and sub-plots and much of the adventuring is fueled by the players’ motivations rather than by railroads or “carrots” dangled by the DM. It’s to our DM’s credit that he’s able to run with and adapt to the interests of the players.

I’ll (possibly) talk about some of that last one in a later post. Heron (the DM) has graciously given his approval to discuss and quote his campaign on Ye Old Blog (our campaign/game blog is a closed one so I can’t simply direct folks with a link). There are several topics of conversation to take from his game and besides this is a gaming blog; I should probably discuss some actual gaming rather than simple theory right?

All right, more of that later. Right now I’m going to spend a little time familiarizing myself with the 1st level cleric spell list. Heron says my character is more likely to cast cause fear than cure light wounds (there doesn't seem much of the "healer archetype" to my character) but I do like to know all my options.
; )

Later Gators.

Success

Some mornings you just can’t find the right pithy phrase to name a blog post. Today, I’m just going to go simple.

Last night was round 2 of play-testing for my space game. Again, I was limited to two players (of four) players due to prior commitments. Also again I was operating on very limited sleep…about two to three hours…and a loooong work day. And, yes, while I stayed away from the whiskey, I did quaff (most of) a pitcher of beer…

BUT, I am going to call the game session successful. Much more so than last week. In fact, I’d say it went better than any prior iteration of the card mechanic RPG (Out of Time, MDR) due to certain changes I instituted…namely, the need to spend cards to utilize ANY thing more than “average effort” in a success check.

This had all the desirable types of results I was looking for:

• Cards got spent and played, depending on the “stakes” necessary
• In turn, this led to decreased effectiveness over time as resources ran slim. This is the way I had originally envisioned the game being played, but previously the dice mechanic was too “easy” with players steering tests into areas of high suits and not needing to expend cards for extra success. NOW they do the same thing, but once the cards are spent, they have to switch to a different “arena” (where they still have cards).
• Players were forced to use different avenues to accomplish tasks (see the last note) because of running low on cards. This was also how I imagined the game being played, and forcing card expenditure accomplished this, causing players to take different tactics when one suit ran low.
• The use of cards provided the “game balance” I was looking for…as one player ran low on cards, the other player was forced to step in and step up. Perfect…everyone gets their turn in the spotlight.
• Doing the card play in this way made ALL the cards important. Whereas before players would short suit themselves during character creation to keep a bunch of Aces and faces, now having “depth” in a particular suit is just as important (if not moreso)…at least if you, as a player, are attached to a particular style of play. For example, if you want to solve problems with your fists, you better have a bunch of clubs. Heron had a single Ace of Spades and had to hold on to it until he REALLY needed it since it was his only spade. This was cool…though now I’m thinking a 7 card hand might be better than 6.
• Or Not: Drive points (given as a reward for role-playing certain aspects of your character) can be utilized much like cards. By limiting the cards in a player’s hand, it forces them to complicate themselves in order to “regain effectiveness.” This makes for interesting play, and I imagine it will come faster and easier as players get more comfortable with the concept (I hope).
• The complication die/card draw (what Josh calls “the calamity die”) worked well in practice, helping to add depth to a roughly sketched scenario…in addition to being fun.

Since the wholesale change of the system turned out to be so effective, it means I will need to rewrite much of what I’ve previously written (doh), AND I will also have to re-tool many of the character advantages (double-doh), and probably the entire credit/purchase system (triple-doh!). However, that’s a small price to pay for sporting a system that does what the game designer (me) wants it to do…pretty exciting stuff, in my opinion. It was a great session from my perspective and the only thing that kept me from being more giddy was my extreme fatigue and the knowledge that I would have another looong night with sick baby once I got home.

[and I did, too]

Some other random thoughts of things learned from last night’s playtest:

Classes work well with the system, even the new rules. Unfortunately, for long term play some of the classes seem mutually exclusive. For instance, Josh’s “mole man” (a fringer/survivor with a home environment advantage of “space station”) worked great for this session that happened to be ON a space station…but Heron’s spacer pilot didn’t get to do a whole helluva’ lot of flying. And if they HAD taken off in Heron’s ship, what would Josh have done? The key may be a lot of cut scenes and environmental (scene) changes…or possibly finding a way for PCs to operate towards the end of a single scenario objective even when separated. Think Return of the Jedi (Luke’s on the Death Star, Han and Leia are on Endor, Lando flying the space mission).

NPCs (named versus mook) worked well enough for me, but needs to be even MORE simplified. This may just be my own leftover baggage from wanting “major villains” to be as competent as PCs (think my favorite Star Wars baddie, Count Dooku, who kicks an incredible amount of ass). However, there are ways to do this withOUT assigning cards. I’m going to have to mull over this.

ALSO (regarding NPCs), I have a rule about bestowing names on NPCs automatically gives them significance and importance. This actually came into play during the session, when Heron christened some nameless mook “Butt-Boy” (or something equally descriptive). Under the terms of the rules I should have dealt him some cards and converted him to a “major NPC;” instead I skipped the step as it was too complicated for the quickfire action of the time. In retrospect, I think dealing a “named” mook a single card (and assigning hit points) would have been an easier, simpler way of accomplishing what I wanted. I’m going to have to mull over this as well.

Frenetic pace and lavish card spending was definitely the way to go. I think Josh had more fun doing this then he had in previous sessions (he tried both Out of Time and MDR). He definitely seemed more engaged in the action of the game…but then, he was also digging hard on his mole man character (“Jub-Jub”).

Finally, although it’s a space opera trope to have the occasional alien protagonist, I’m thinking of making non-human PCs a completely optional side rule, and getting rid of the Jokers all together (dammit! I forgot about the Jokers!...they need to be revamped for the rule changes, too!). It’s just more fun to do “humans in space” and keep the aliens as NPCs or sidekicks (sorry, Spock). Even a weird human (like Jub-Jub) is easier to grasp (as a concept) and relate to than a “mostly human” type o character. Dralasites and vrusk are cool and all, but…well, I don’t know. It’s another thing I’m going to have to think about.

All right, that’s enough debriefing for now. I’ll be working on the space game over the holidays (hopefully getting some writing done in Mexico)…at least when I’m not pestering my artists to get their submissions in for the new book. I don’t plan on doing another space opera play-test till 2011 (got to get back to Heron’s BX game and I understand the DCC experiment may be finally over as well…we’ll see what’s up next down at the Mox)…but you never know. It’s certainly possible that we’ll run another session before Christmas.

Cheers!
: )

Inverted Ziggurat (P.2)

[continued from here]

“Of course there’s the little problem that everything down below is now submerged.”

Hmm…the party hadn’t thought of that. Fortunately, the wizard Keraptis had, and there was a drain in the floor leading to a gradual decline in the water level over a half hour or so. The party was fine with waiting, using the time to scale down the ledges (having tied off the rope to the door). Standing at the crack and looking at the four grinning, hungry polar bears, the party found itself a group divided.

Gustav: “I say we kill the polar bears.”

Party: “Are you kidding? They have ‘claw-claw-bite!’ They’ll kill us!”

Gustav: “I want a polar bear hat!”

This went on for awhile, but while a some abstained and most were against a straight up fight, no one had any real suggestions of how to circumvent polar bears in a non-combat fashion.

This was JB’s cue to go soft again.

“Normally, I wouldn’t suggest this,” says I, “but I know some of you haven’t played B/X for awhile, and you may have missed the Speak with Animals spell on the cleric list…um…3rd level spell, I believe.”

Well, of course, this was the perfect suggestion and the entire party over-ruled Gustav’s quest for a bear trophy. Not that he didn’t try, “Make sure you tell them we are their masters…maybe we should kill one just to show them our might for a better bargaining chip!” or “If they won’t let us pass, I’m ready with my warhammer.”

However, Alster was able to get a positive reaction roll from the bears…at least enough for them to let the party by on a “live and let live” basis. However, I did mention to Gustav that one surly mother of a bear seemed to be giving him the hairy eyeball, silently taunting him with a snaggle-toothed leer.

“I do NOT take the bait,” said Gustav.

Using a combination of the waterwalking ring and rope (duh) the party made it to the floor of the chamber, basking in the glow of the permanent Sweet T’s continual light. Tito himself needed a bit of help getting down to the chamber floor. “If I can’t actually DO anything,” asked Randy, “what’s the good of being raised from the dead?”

“You can provide moral support?”

“Um…no one has to carry your body out?”

From where they stood, they could see a vault set in a wall and a corridor leading away in the opposite direction. The vault obviously held some sort of booty…maybe even Blackrazor itself!

“Or maybe Quentin's in there,” suggested Sly. “Quentin! Are you in there?”

Terril cast detect traps on the vault. The lock glowed sinister red in color. “Oh, man…I can disarm that!” said Sly. And he did, removing a small, strange device that had no discernable purpose. With a flourish, he twisted the vault lock to reveal…a cascading pile of silver, along with a jeweled bracelet. Jackpot!

Brian wasted no time sweeping the silver coins into his bag of holding. I don’t recall who took the bracelet (probably Sly, maybe Sweet T). However, no black blade could be found.

“Hmmm…the poem said, ‘beneath the inverted ziggurat.’ I wrote that part down,” said Sly.

Maybe it’s down the drain, suggested someone.

The party pried up the drain and stared at the hole that went straight down. It looks like a tight fit, says I…maybe just wide enough for a Halfling? The party looks at Brian.

“Oh, no…I’m not going down the hole!”

Eventually the usual plan is formed, a rope is tied around the halfling’s waist and he soon crawling head first into the bowels of the volcano…

“It’s getting pretty tight, and the air is even warmer than up above, but by wriggling your body you can press forward. There’s a pretty bad smell…maybe sulfur?”

“Um…guys?”

“Just a little further…there’s probably a chamber or something.”

“You crawl a little farther. The hole…I can’t really call it a tunnel…kind of ‘jukes’ to one side and then continues deeper. You can just…manage…to squirm…”

“Guys?”

“Blackrazor’s got to be down there! Just a little further!”

“Okay, you can’t really move your arms, but by wiggling your fingers…” (I make little penguin wing motions) “…you can inch a little more. A lot of heat now…sweat pouring off your face…”

“Get me out of this f***ing hole RIGHT NOW! Goddammit! YOU go down the hole!!”

The party (a little reluctantly) pulls the Halfling up with the rope. Brian is not amused. Someone suggests that they “make camp” on the floor of the chamber. As they prepare to bed down, a watch is arranged. I start rolling for wandering monsters.

I forget who had first watch, but it isn’t long before the invisible foot prints are back…circling the party, kicking up sand, splashing through the water…and then gone. Needless to say, the guy who saw it all was a little disconcerted and woke everyone up (they hadn’t been asleep that long).

Did the party question the bears? Maybe…I know they (the bears) had little useful to say (they were used to getting fed by Mr. Invisible). The party decided to go back to sleep, and Sly offered to take next watch.

When the encounter came up, I had Sly roll to see if the party was surprised. Since he rolled a “2” (and was thus surprised) I ruled he’d dozed off. I rolled randomly to see which party members were attacked by the two wights that wandered upon them unawares.

Sly and Borgnine.

Even though the party was “sleeping” a failed surprise roll just means the monsters get a free attack roll, not an “auto-hit,” so I rolled to attack. Only Sly was hit. The dwarf was startle awake by something cold caressing his cheek…the thief was awakened by soul-searing cold as his life force was wrenched from his body! Welcome to level 6.

Round two: “A corpselike figure with sunken eyes giving off an unholy glow crouches over you clutching at your body, groping at you with pale, blue-tinged hands. What do you do?” Both were attempting to kick the thing away while yelling for the rest of the party to get the hell up! The wights won initiative for the round and both were successful in their attack rolls, draining the dwarf to level 6 and the thief to level 5.

“Wait…so I’m getting worse?” asked Vince.

“Ha! You’re lower level than me now!” laughed Randy.

“That’s what you get for falling asleep on watch!” said someone else(maybe Matt…he really hadn’t liked going down the hole).

The clerics rise up pulling their holy symbols and blast the wights into oblivion.

Somehow, the party decided to get back to “sleep,” though a double watch was set, and they got little rest on the damp hard sand. No more wandering monsters troubled them.

Upon awaking, and after passing around the healing magic, the party decided to explore the only other egress available to them…the southward leading corridor.

It ended in a door.

After watching the newly diminished thief fail his “hear noise” roll, the party kicked open the door ready for anything. What they found was a bedraggled-looking Quentin Nogg.

“More tormentors come to taunt me? I will serve neither you, nor your feeble master!”

No, no…the party explains. They are here to rescue the halfling. They gaze around the room at the sumptuousness of the surroundings. “Bribes,” explains Quentin. “The wizard Keraptis killed my party and captured me. His indoctrination process failed, and so he’s kept me here for several weeks, hoping that I will agree to be his loyal slave. You’re welcome to any of his ‘treasure’ offers.” He gestures to a disorderly heap of loot that includes a suit of human-sized plate mail.

Gustav asks if he can have the plate mail, seeing as how his own is pretty toasty. “It won’t fit me,” says Quentin. Matt asks, “If this is cursed armor, I won’t know it till I’m in combat or something, right?” Right. “Eh, I’ll put it on anyway.” Okay.

Terril, feeling all this is perhaps too good to be true casts Detect Alignment on Quentin.

Neutral.

“What about Blackrazor?” Brian wants to know. “We were supposed to find Blackrazor down here!”

“It is here,” says the Halfling, “Keraptis said he wanted me to ‘guard’ it.” Quentin pulls a beautiful mahogany case…about the size of a sword…from beneath a large cushion, opens it, and pulls Blackrazor from the satiny lining of the case. The light within the room seems to disappear in the darkness of its length, giving back only the sparkling of constellations deep within the blade’s black metal.

“I don’t think you should be carrying Blackrazor,” says Brian pointedly.

“And why should I not?” says the Halfling with a look that says ‘come and take it from me.’

Brian decides to start scooping treasure into the bag of holding instead.

***EDIT: So sorry, folks...THAT is where we left the game! Hope you weren't waiting for more action, 'cause that's all she wrote for last Thursday. The players decided that finding Quentin and Blackrazor was enough of a feather for one evening, and everyone was anxious to get home to their families (we ran a little late)...but this is where I plan on picking up the thread three days from now. Stay tuned! ***

Inverted Ziggurat (P.1)

[continued from here]

The chamber, as stated, was exceptionally large…so much so that the light of Blaarthislaarv…and even Sweet Tito’s dagger…could not reveal the room in its totality. And it was a pretty damn unusual room. Rectangular in shape, the chamber was composed of a number of descending ledges running the perimeter of the room. Each ledge (the party appeared to have entered on the uppermost one) was 10’ wide, and then dropped 10’ to the ledge directly below it, forming four ledges in total with the barely visible floor below.

What’s more each level of the chamber (besides the ledge of the party) was inhabited. The ledge directly below the party was filled with water, all the way to the level of the ledge on which the party stood…preventing the water from spilling downwards was what appeared to be a thin, translucent wall (Glass? Crystal?). Within this aquarium swam half a dozen giant crabs, each as large as a man in plate armor with huge snapping claws. Wherever the party went with its light source, the crabs swam to congregate near the edge…apparently anticipating some sort of impending meal!

The level below the crabs also had a 10’ high translucent wall, but this level was dry and covered in sand. Scuttling along this level were several huge scorpions, each the size of a pony, their wickedly barbed tails obviously envenomed.

The level below the scorpions was filled with water, similar to the crab level…however, swimming through the depths seemingly un-troubled by the darkness were the giant forms of four polar bears.

The floor, as mentioned was only barely discernable from the party’s ledge…anything present there was safely shrouded in darkness.

Reviewing the riddle-note of the wizard Keraptis (I had been kind enough to re-read it at the beginning of the session), the party decided that this must be the “inverted ziggurat” of the poem, beneath which was supposed to lie the blade Blackrazor. Their whole freak-out regarding the darkness and the levels and the monsters was thus tempered by their excitement at the knowledge that one of the prizes they sought was close at hand!

Now…what to do?

[we started our game sometime between 8:15 and 8:30 if I am remembering correctly…definitely later than usual, perhaps even closer to 9…and the group spent nearly the entire time in this chamber. And we didn’t get out of the Baranof until close to midnight. This, more than anything, accounts for my frustration with the evening…one room in 3+ hours?! However, in debriefing with my brother later on, he did point out that it was an exceptionally complicated and challenging room…and the players seemed to have fun, and that was the main point, right? Okay, AB]

After much discussion, it was decided that the circumstances seemed ideal for the use of Sweet Tito’s lightning bolt spell. By using the light to draw the crabs together in a pack/school, Sweet was able to launch a charge of electricity into the water, flash frying every single one in an explosion blue fire and sizzling seafood.

[personally, I’m fairly unfamiliar with the actual physics regarding lightning and water; however, I can recall the 1st edition DMG ruled lightning bolts underwater were treated as fireballs, and I saw no reason not to do the same…hell, it’s certainly what the player s expected]

Having thus overcome the “first hurdle” (and giving high fives all around), the players decided they needed a little more intelligence on what “lay below.” Giving Brian the Halfling the dagger of continual light, the diminutive adventure used his ring of waterwalking to venture to the very edge of 2nd ledge by walking on the water’s (now slightly lower) surface. Holding the light out as far as he could reach, he could see SOMEthing move on the sand of the chamber’s floor…and a reflection of strangely human eyes from something that shuffled like a great four-legged beast.

And then he was hit by something like half a dozen crossbow bolts.

“Shit! Shit! Pull me back!” (I forgot to mention the party had tied a length of rope around the Halfling for just such a quick retrieval). Much discussion and commotion from the players. Do we know what they are? How much could we see? What the hell just happened?

Did the creatures look like the manticore on the front of the module?

Yes…and the fact that the characters were 7th level meant I was fine with them knowing anything they possible remembered or could dredge from their mind regarding manticore. Brian had seen (in the dim light) that there were at least two shuffling around below, huge bat-like wings folded and/or dragging in the sand. Their ability to fling foot long spikes at anyone that popped over the edge was putting a decided cramp in the party’s style.

Randy spoke up: Hey, I get a bonus language still…can it be manticore?

“Sure.”

The party does the magic ring shuffle and Sweet T walks out to the edge with glowing dagger in hand. “Hello down there!” he calls in the creatures’ own tongue. Reaction roll indicated the manticores were still feeling feisty (remember Sweet had a charisma of 7) and he’s hit with a barrage of spikes. “No wait! Wait! We come in peace!” The manticores paused.

What you want? They growled up at him in the glow of the magic light. We hungry, where’s our meat?

“We just want to pass, we can offer you food…cooked crab meat!”

Reaction roll comes up snake-eyes. We only eat LIVE meat! The elf is hit with another barrage and takes a spike through the brain killing him instantly. The party…who has been standing well back in the hallway outside, feel the elf go limp in the rope and pull his body back down the corridor.

After de-spiking Sweet T, Heron (or rather, Terril the Cleric) casts raise dead to bring the elf’s soul back to his body, and the party props his bloodied form up against a wall of the corridor. “Can I sleep here?” No you need two weeks of complete and comfortable bed rest…not even magic cure spells will bring you back from one hit point. “Damn. I need a Bed & Breakfast!”

Terril decides the party needs to get a better idea of what their dealing with and casts continual light somewhere near the middle of the room. Thus lit, the party can see there are three manticores, all of whom have had their wings clipped (and explaining why they remain below).

Flightless or not, they remain a serious threat and problem. “If they only eat live meat, maybe we should have fed them Sweet Tito,” suggests someone (probably AB). “Wait, wait! I’m alive now!” But we could always raise you again after the manticores eat you…um…maybe. Can you raise someone after they’ve been digested? “Wait, wait!”

[funny enough, when I related the evening’s events to my wife later, the first thing she suggested when I told of Tito’s death? “They should feed the elf to the manticores.” She thought it was the most “practical” thing to do]

AB still couldn’t believe they’d refused the crab meat. “Don’t they know how delicious Dungeness is?” (there had already been more than a few comments about melting butter) Maybe the crabs had been their friends? Or perhaps they just weren’t big seafood eaters.

[actually the whole “live meat” thing came from the module which was specific that the creatures were only fed live food and couldn’t be bribed with rations…a common enough B/X trick]

“Well, if they can’t fly, maybe we can drown ‘em. Does it look like we could break the glass wall retaining the crabs water?”

It was decided they would try. Although, Sly had the gauntlets of ogre power, Farnsworth had many more hit points and a huge AC (-1) AND had a natural 18 strength. Heron gave him his mace +2, Brian lent him the ring of waterwalking, and the fighter excepted the noose…er…rope around the waist as he hesitantly inched out to the edge of the water.

[actually, the courageous Gustav tried first with his warhammer…though he did it completely in the dark and made nary a scratch]

According to the module, a character with 18 strength and a good, heavy mace can break the glass in 2-5 rounds. I rolled the full 5, but decided to reduce the time to 4 rounds due to the magic mace. Farnsworth started swinging with purpose and the manticores started shooting…after three rounds, Farnsworth announced he’d had enough (actually he started announcing this after the first or second round hit him for huge damage, but the party offered him healing to keep going that long).

So here we were…Mexican stand-off. The dam nearly ready to break (the glass was splintered and spider-webbed) and AB refusing to go back on the ledge…and the manticores were actually out of spikes! Each manticore had a total of 12 spikes that could be hurled six at a time. I’d already decided that only two manticore would shoot each round (total of twelve spikes)…and after shooting Brian once, Sweet T twice, and Farnsworth thrice, the leonine creatures were totally tapped out!

If memory serves, I do NOT think Farnsworth ever actually finished the job…I may have ruled he did enough damage for the glass to shatter by itself (it WAS a +2 mace after all)…I know I was trying to move things along by this point. The water washed out through the crack, and quickly filled the level below, drowning the scorpions…but being (mainly) held in place by the glass shield around their level.

Eventually, someone decided to “count” how many spikes were left on the tails (a couple of the players…including Luke, who finally showed up around 10…suspected that the creatures ammunition was limited). When I told them it appeared only “baby nubs” remained on their tails, Borgnine agreed to risk possible manticore fire to break the glass. He slipped on the ring of waterwalking AND a ring of protection AND the gauntlets of ogre power AND picked up the magic mace AND looped the roap around himself.

It only took the dwarf two hits. Then water was sluicing out through a crack in the scorpion level, washing over the polar bear ledge and drowning the helpless manticores below. Fortunately, the party had tied off the dwarf as they had with all the other characters, and the burly warrior was left hanging rather than washing out into the lower levels himself.

[continue to Part 2]

Eight is Enough

Last Thursday’s game at the Barnof was a rough one. I hadn’t got much sleep all week long (Wednesday night in particular I only got four hours or so) which, along with my Everfull Pint Glass (Vince sat next to me and kept topping it off) combined for a less than stellar performance from Yours Truly.

“Performance?” Yeah…running a D&D game for eight people (we had a new guy join us…we’ll get to him in a sec) is more about performing than playing. You are acting as referee. You are acting as narrator. You are acting as “font of rules knowledge.” You are managing the table (both in-game and out-of-game issues). It can be tricky to say the least. The largest D&D game I ever recall running in the past was for SIX people…and I know that at one point I was literally picked up and thumped on my head via a “piledriver” move. Fortunately, my current group is nicer than that one…but I can see how the piledriver might possibly come out in the future should things go as I predict.

“Once again your cryptic words intrigue, JB,” I can hear readers thinking. “Tell us more.” However, I’m just thinking ahead to What Comes Next in the adventure next to the current state of the adventurers at present and, well, the future doesn’t look all that rosy for our heroes.

[note: just pulled out their character sheets and took a gander...they're not nearly in as bad of shape as I remember]

But that’s all getting ahead of myself…Thursday started later than usual, despite the fact that I arrived at the place on time for a change. I suppose I’ve set a bad precedent for my players…this week I’ll try to get things kicked off by 7:45 or so. Mmm…maybe.

Anyway, this week welcomed a new player to the table: Heron. As with everyone else, Heron turned out to be a swell guy, whose wife has been gracious enough to give him Thursdays off. Interestingly, he’s the same guy who wrote the Trolls will be Trolls adventures for last year’s One Page Dungeon contest, one of my personal favorites. For some reason (probably the name) I just assumed he was from Sweden or something. Instead, he lives relatively close to my Greenwood ‘hood.

Crazy small world.

Heron did manage to show up with copies of the original B/X books (nice!)…along with the usual pencil-paper- dice necessities. Luke had a prior engagement for the evening, and Heron agreed to be plugged in as the party cleric for the session. Actually, I gave him a set of 3x5 cards with random NPC ability scores, names, and classes (I had written these up the week before in the thought that I might give all the PCs a henchman, but stifled the thought due to the sheer number of players that showed), and he picked one of the clerics for his character…than we elevated him to 7th level, gave him a “sea captain’s hat” and some magic items (a scroll or two, some magic armor, a mace +2) and standard equipment (grappling iron was his “unique” item)…and rolled for relationships to other party members. Turned out he’d met Gustav the fighter while running from some wild animals, and he’d met Borgnine the dwarf when “one’s house burned down and the other helped out” (I don’t recall if we ever decided whose house had been burned down).

This seems as good a time as any to mention a couple things:

1) Regarding the Random Relationships: I have no idea how much players actually remember these things…I don’t make any notes of them and frankly, I have a difficult time remembering all 16 relationships between 8 different characters. This is a system to aid the PLAYERS not the DM. It gives them a sense of something shared between their characters, gives them something to kibitz about, helps them to immediately “plug into the game.” I don’t know how useful it is to them in the long term (though the “telepathic rapport” between Sly the Thief and Sweet Tito DID come to the fore a bit this session), but from my “DM’s chair” it SEEMS to accomplish these goals.

2) Regarding clerics: I hate clerics having to memorize spells like a magic-user…to the point that I usually chuck the whole system. This is not very “Old School” of me, I admit, but it’s the way I’ve played since I was a kid playing AD&D. Basically, a cleric has a certain number of spell slots (“prayers”) per day, and can use them as he or she sees fit to beseech God (or whomever) for aid.

To me, this simply makes more sense. People don’t get up in the morning, kneel in prayer, and recite a Christmas list to their deity (“…and I want to Cure Disease twice, and Raise Dead once, and Speak with Snakes, and, and…”). That’s ridiculous. High level clerics, having proven themselves worthy champions, have direct access to their gods and can ask them to intercede on their behalf. Of course, their deity isn’t going to grant an unlimited number of miracles (“God helps those who help themselves…”) and clerics know when not “push their luck” with the prayers (i.e. they know when their allotment of spells are up for the day).

This, too, greatly speeds and simplifies play, so long as the cleric has ready access to the short spell list of the clerical class (as Heron did).

Magic-users and elves still have to study their spell books, of course. The limits of their spell books in B/X helps speed and simplify the choosing of their spells…plus I like SOME Vancian magic in the game!

So, yeah…onwards and upwards into White Plume Mountain. As I mentioned, I had decided to “take the gloves off” for the remainder of the adventure. Or, to put it another way, I had decided to “play hard.” This did not fully happen in the session…as I mentioned, my performance was a bit off all night due to fatigue and booze…but of the players, only the two clerics (Luke showed up later in the evening) managed to remain unscathed.

The characters spent quite a bit of time managing their healing after having camped in the frictionless room. The “1s” were still coming hard and fast for all the healing rolls, and I decided that ALL the characters had a single, “emergency” healing potion stashed on their person. So much for the gloves coming off! This was actually something I’d been considering since the prior session, but had just forgotten to do. These were 7th (and 6th) level characters after all…surely some of their wealth could have been blown on an alchemist or two?

After getting about as “up to snuff” as they could, they proceeded to continue their subterranean trek, soon coming to another crossroads. As usual, they took the left-hand turn ending (eventually) at another door. Listening again (I see why rot grub were invented) allowed Sly to report a whole host of critter-like sounds coming from the other side…though many sounded like critters of different types. Oh, boy!

[most everything that follows is SPOILERS, just by the way]

They kicked in the door to find a huge chamber enveloped in darkness.

But not magical darkness…simply a chamber without light.

[actually...sorry...I'm going to continue this in a new post! Ha!]