Magical Marvels 11: The Steedmaker Barding

In an age long past, when magic was young and humans did not yet understand the powers and limitations of the craft, there was a great queen named Austranar. She was a warrior, and a conqueror, who expanded her territory through ruthless campaigns. And, she never rode into battle without her beloved steed Kuruk. Though she was a queen, she forbade any to care for Kuruk but her. So much did Austranar love her horse, that her soldiers sometimes joked that despite her many consorts, the only true heir would be Kuruk’s. Austranar won countless battles astride Kuruk, and art depicting the pair is some of the more common pieces from that period of human history. But very little is known of Kuruk’s death.

During the a minor conquest of no great importance, a peasant with a dull sword made a lucky swing, and nearly severed Kuruk’s right foreleg at the knee. A crime for which he was promptly beheaded by the grief-stricken queen. Soaked in the peasant’s blood, Austranar clung to the horse’s neck and wailed in rage and agony. She called for her court magician, he was–a bit reluctantly–brought to her. The queen demanded that the magician preserve Kuruk’s life with his magic, and would hear none of his protestations.

Knowing that failure would mean his death, the magician worked furiously with his limited understanding of the magical arts. Many of those captured during the battle were put to death during his ritual. A few of their souls were used to strengthen the bond between Kuruk’s spirit and his body…though many more were killed simply to buy him time to think.

When Kuruk’s body shrived up and disappeared beneath his barding, the magician’s time was up. A furious Austranar, red faced with rage, demanded to know where her steed had gone. The magician fumbled, over his words before finally picking up the headpiece of the barding and presenting it to the queen. He explained that Kuruk’s essence was preserved within this piece of armor, and that any steed it was placed upon would be filled with Kuruk’s spirit.

This is not what Austranar had wanted.

In a rage, the queen took the armor in both hands and slammed it down atop the magician’s head, aiming to kill him. Instead, the magician disappeared entirely, leaving a horse which looked almost exactly like Kuruk in its place–save for its strangely human eyes. It didn’t take long to discover what a wondrous item the magician had created. And though she felt Kuruk’s loss deeply, the queen deigned to reward her magician for creating such an ingenious device–by allowing him to serve as her steed for the rest of his days.

Whenever The Steedmaker Barding is placed upon the head of a living creature, that creature is transformed into a warhorse, complete with a full set of barding to match the head piece, as well as a saddle, and other riding accoutrements. The magical steed is also well trained, and will serve as well as any warhorse can.

While, in many respects, the horse will resemble the long-dead Kuruk, it will also take on aspects of whatever creature it has been bonded with. For example, when placed upon a human, it will gain a human’s eyes, as well as that human’s mind and intelligence. It will not be able to override its training as a war horse because of this, but it will be able to follow commands more intelligently, or indicate its opinions when asked.

Other combinations might include:

Frog: The horse will have a green, wet appearance. It will be able to leap unusually high and far, and will have a frog’s long tongue.

Bird: The horse will gain wings, like a pegasus.

Shark: The resulting creature will look quite different from a horse, as it will not have legs, but rather, four large fins. It will also have a preternaturally large jaw of razor sharp teeth.

Bear: Its hooves are replaced with large claws, and its legs have a larger range of movement.

Spider: While in most respects it will appear to be a normal horse, it will have eight spider’s legs and be able to move silently along both walls and ceilings.

Picture Thursday 20: Molten Cavern by IgorIvArt

I don’t need to tell you that dwarfs are my favorite fantasy race, right? Because you guys all know I’m not a moron. And if dwarfs weren’t my favorite fantasy race, I would be a moron, wouldn’t I?

Wouldn’t I? >.>

This fan-fucking-tastic piece of art from IgorIvArt is a gorgeous depiction of dwarven architecture. You really need to view it at full size to pick up on the great detail of the piece. The stylized carvings on either side of the entrance, the streams of molten rock running down the sides, the latticework of the cavern wall, it gets me in the mood to play the most stoic kind of dwarf. I feel like this would be the secret entrance to a great dwarven city. The labyrinthine caverns required to reach this place are so complex and twisting that only a dwarf could navigate it.

IgorIvArt doesn’t have the biggest gallery on DeviantArt yet, but I like this alchemist image a lot as well.

On Practicing the Dead Ways

When you move a website’s URL, there’s always going to be this annoying dip in traffic. It’s frustrating, because as a webmaster you’re doing this to improve your website and make it more accessible for your readership. But this dip is also natural. People who only ‘kinda’ liked your site won’t bother to update their bookmarks. New readers who come to your site by following old links might be interested enough to check your newest post, but not so interested that they’ll click over to an entirely new website. It takes some time for a new site to gain traction.

One of my very favorite OSR bloggers, Brendan of Untimately, is no longer of Untimately. You can now find his writings at:

www.NecroPraxis.com

I highly recommend going over and checking Brendan’s new digs out. It’s not an easy admission for me, but I honestly think Brendan is a better GM and a better blogger than I am. I consistently learn something from every post I read, and being a player in his Pahvelorn campaign has been the most consistently fun role playing experience I have ever had. No exceptions. If you’re reading Papers & Pencils, then you ought to be reading Necropraxis as well.

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to catch up on the posts I missed.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 14

This is the fourteenth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Monsters and Organization” on page 104, and continues through “Siege Engines and Devices of War Defensive Values” on page 110. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

Monsters and Organization, Repetition: So, this is just kinda silly, but I thought this passage was odd:

“As has been stressed herein, you will find that it is necessary to assume the various roles and personae of all creatures not represented by players. This can be particularly difficult in combat situations. You must be able to quickly determine what the monsters involved will do in any given situation, and this can be particularly difficult in combat situations.”

Monsters and Organization, Make a Note: Gary writes that before the players announce their course of action, the GM should write down what the monsters will do. That way, when the players argue that the monsters seem overly-intuitive, the GM can show the note he or she made and prove the monsters decided on their actions before the players did.

I’m sure Gary found this useful, but it seems like strange advice to me. In all my years as a GM, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had a player argue with me. At least not very forcefully, and certainly not so frequently that I’ve needed to develop counter-measures for it. My general impression is that Gary liked to…’stress’ his players more than I do, so perhaps that was a factor. But ultimately, if I had a player who questioned my honesty so frequently that I needed to start using counter-measures to prove I wasn’t being unfair, then I would be fine telling them to leave my table.

Monsters and Organization, Six Examples: It’s been a lot of pages since I saw something this awesome. Modern DMGs need to include this information. It doesn’t even need to be updated, they can just copy it from the 1979 DMG, and past it un-edited into the new ones.

Gary goes through six different groups the players might attack, and provides two examples for how each might react; with the first being how they would react to the initial attack, and the second being how they would react to a second attack a week following. It’s one thing to say over-and-over again that the GM should control the monsters and NPCs intelligently, it’s a different thing entirely to have detailed examples for undead, giant ants, orcs, a small town, a bandit camp, and a fortress. I would honestly say I learned something from this section.

Use of Non-Human Troops: When I started reading the DMG, all I knew about it was that a lot of people consider it to be one of the most important RPG books ever written. A work so profoundly insightful and ahead of its time, that even modern works which attempt to build on its success have not made it irrelevant. A book which got it right, while so many modern books somehow get it wrong.

I’ve found this to be half true. Yes, much of the book is amazing and awesome. Often in these fourteen posts so far, I’ve written that some section or another ought to be included in modern RPG texts. In fact I wrote that just a moment ago, just scroll up to the previous section!

Unfortunately, for every great section like “Monsters and Organizations,” there’s a section like “Use of non-human troops,” which is gratuitously useless. The fact that the various fantasy races don’t get along with one another is well documented. There’s even a “Racial Preferences Table” in the Player’s Handbook, which is referenced here. I can see how that would be useful.

Do you know what isn’t useful?

The knowledge that a weak human leader with no officers to directly control troops will only have a 25% chance to control the actions of a group of Kobolds. But I can raise it to a 95% chance if the player is a strong leader, and I have plenty of officers.

Who cares?

I suspect this subject (which seems to come up often) has a lot to do with Gygax’s roots as a wargamer.

Underground Construction: What did I JUST say?!

Constructions: Here, Gygax lists a number of building types, and their costs. He gets into detail like doors, arrow slits, etc. This level of detail does not interest me, nor can I really figure out how it should work in play. I can’t even imagine how long it would take to price out this kind of stuff.

Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen rules for crafting a stronghold which I actually liked. Does anyone know of an example? Or perhaps I should just craft my own.

Siege Engines and Devices of War: This seems really overly complex to me. This feels like it was written for a war game where siege weapons would be a major game element, rather than for a role playing game where (ostensibly) individual character actions would be the focus. There’s two full pages of rules for hit determination, attack values, defense values…I think it may be more complicated than AD&D’s actual combat system.

Simple Attacks & Grapples

I’ve been working on different ways a combat system could function, and I’ve constructed something I’m pretty happy with. It borrows heavily from both OD&D, and material I’ve read on Untimately.

Each class has a “Combat Target Number.” Anytime a character wishes to take offensive physical action against something, they roll a twenty sided die. If their roll on the d20 is equal to or higher their CTN, then the action succeeds. As each class levels up, their CTN becomes gradually smaller. Modifiers to the CTN are rare, which allows it to be very simple. A single number written on the player’s character sheet, which they must roll against.

Most characters will also have an Avoidance Score. This is typically a very small number, between -3 and 4. For most characters, their avoidance will be the same as their dexterity modifier; though if the character uses a shield, that will also add +1 to their AS. Again, modifiers to AS are rare, which keeps it simple. Any time a creature with avoidance is attacked, the AS is added to the attacker’s CTN.

Armor does not benefit a character’s avoidance score. Instead, it functions as a type of damage resistance. Each type of armor will have a die associated with it. As a simple example, lets say that leather armor uses 1d4, chain armor uses 1d6, and plate armor uses 1d8. Any time an attacker rolls a successful attack, they must then roll their damage dice against the defender’s armor dice. The value of the armor die is then subtracted from the value of the attack die, mitigating or even eliminating the damage dealt to the target.

My primary goal here is simplicity, which I think I’ve achieved. The player need not roll 1d20 + BAB + Strength + Weapon Bonus + Relevant Feat. They don’t even need to roll 1d20 + [Bundled Attack Bonus]. As silly as it might sound, taking two numbers and figuring out which is bigger is easier than taking two numbers and adding them together. I also like how the system keeps both the attacker and the target mechanically engaged. While determining the success of the strike, the player and GM need to communicate the CTN and the AC. While determining damage dealt, the player and GM are rolling dice opposed to one another.

You may have noticed that the CTN is to be used anytime “offensive physical action,” is taken. That’s because it would also be used similar to Pathfinder’s Combat Maneuver roll. The attacking player rolls against their CTN plus their target’s AS if they’re attempting to kick sand in their eyes, or disarm them, or grapple them, or whatever. Grappling in particular is traditionally complex and unwieldy. From 1st edition AD&D’s “Non-Lethal and Weaponless Combat Procedures“, to the system in D&D 3.X which was so complicated I literally kept a flowchart at the table at one point. Pathfinder’s combat maneuver system is a huge step in the right direction, but I think it can be simpler still.

When attempting a grapple, the attacker rolls against their CTN + their Target’s AS as normal. If they succeed, then they’ve got their hands, legs, tentacles, or whatever on their opponent. The attacker then makes a strength check (Roll 1d20. Equal to or under STR is a success, over STR is a failure). The defender may either roll a strength check, or a dex check, whichever they prefer. Whoever succeeds by more gets to pin/push/hold their opponent. If the two players tie, they are stalemated. If both players fail, success goes to the defender.

A basic example of play might proceed thus:

Fighter “I’d like to attack the orc. My CTN is 11.”
GM “The orc has an AS of 2, so you’ll need to roll a 13 or better.”
Fighter [roll] “A 15! That’s a success, so I’m rolling my damage die, 1d8.”
GM “The orc only has chain armor, so he’s rolling a 1d6 for defense.”
[Fighter and GM both roll their dice.]
GM “The orc rolled a 4.”
Fighter “That’s not bad, but I rolled a 6, so he still takes 2 damage!”
Rogue “Me next! I’ll get him with my throwing knife. My CTN is 14, so I need to roll a 16 or better here.” [Roll] “17, Success! Rolling my 1d6 damage die…”
[Fighter and GM both roll their dice.]
GM “I’m afraid the orc’s 3 beats your 2.”
Rogue “Fucking fuck. I wanted his gold. >:(“
Wizard “That really just leaves me. But my spells are gone, and my staff only deals 1d4 damage, so there’s a good chance I couldn’t hurt him even if I hit. I’m going to try to tackle him so the other players can hit him more easily next round.”
GM “Alright, you can try that. But you’ve got a CTN of 16, so you’ve gotta roll an 18 or higher to succeed.”
Wizard [roll] “I actually did it! I got an 18! Just barely!”
GM “Alright, but you’ve still gotta make your strength check. The orc is much stronger than he is agile, so he’ll be using his strength to oppose you as well.”
Wizard [roll] “Woo! I got a 10, that’s just under my Strength of 12!”
GM “Ah, but the Orc got an 8, which is way under his strength of 16. When you leap to tackle him he knocks you aside with his arm. You’re now sprawled on the ground behind him.”

There are a few complications to this system which I’ve omitted here. Both strength and dexterity do have a role to play, as do various positioning and circumstance bonuses and penalties. But this is the basic structure of the system, and I would be interested to hear thoughts on it.

Killing My Babies

“Kill your babies” is a term you may or may not be familiar with. I’m sure it exists in many fields, but I first discovered it while studying writing. The idea is that when you’re working on something, parts of it will become very precious to you. You’ll be happy with the way this argument or that turn of phrase represents you and your skills. But even a brilliant piece of writing can be out of place. The quality of the project as a whole must always take precedence over any individual aspect of it. Anything which is out of place or distracting must be killed, even if it is your baby.

I killed one of my babies a few minutes ago. In and of itself, that is not something worth writing to you about. However, the reason this particular baby needed to be smothered revealed something mechanically interesting about my recently posted ability scores weighted by race system. I’d recommend you read it, but to briefly sum it up, my idea is that the player should first pick their race, then roll their ability scores in a way that is weighted towards that race’s strengths and weaknesses. So a dwarf, being very hardy, would roll 5d6 for their constitution, and take the highest 3. Whereas a halfling, lacking physical strength, would roll 5d6 take the lowest 3 for that ability.

A few days ago I had the idea to combine the weight-by-race system, with a variant of the old ability penalty flaws system. My plan was that if a character had a negative modifier in any of their 6 ability scores, then they would need to roll on a flaw chart associated with that ability. So a character with a -2 modifier for their strength would need to roll on the strength flaw chart. No matter how severe the penalty (-1, -2, -3, -4) the character would only have one flaw per ability score, and the flaws would mostly be absolute “can’ts.” A character with a Strength flaw might roll “Can’t climb anything harder than a steep slope,” or “Can’t run for longer than 1 round.”

Unfortunately, while trying to work it out, I found it was difficult to determine which flaws should be associated with which scores. For example, one of the flaws I knew I wanted to have in there was “Can’t swim.” Originally, it was a strength flaw, because strength is the ability which modifies the swim skill in Pathfinder. But that didn’t strike me as correct, because it would mean dwarfs would almost never be unable to swim, while halflings would often be unable to swim. Moving the ability to dexterity solved that problem adequately, but then I ran into the same issue with “Can’t climb anything more difficult that a steep slope.” It’s obviously a strength based thing, yet a halfling scrambling up a rope seems perfectly natural. Many small creatures with low strength should be able to perform strength-based tasks, because their own mass requires less strength to move.

It was here where I realized that there was a large difference between Pathfinder’s default method of rolling ability scores, and my racially weighted method. Using the default method, ability ability scores are relative. Using my variant, ability scores are absolute. What do I mean by that?

In rules-as-written Pathfinder, a Strength of 10-11 is ‘average,’ pretty much regardless of your race. With a penalty of -2, halflings have a slightly lower average of 8-9; but since PCs get to roll 4d6 drop the lowest for all of their scores, PC halflings will still have an average strength (11) higher than the average NPC human. It sounds a little ridiculous to say that an average PC halfling will be about as physically strong as an average human, until you realize that a halfling’s strength is relative to their own size. Other mechanics represent the halfling’s strength relative to larger creatures. When using a weapon, halflings must use a smaller damage die. When attempting to grapple with an opponent, halflings suffer a significant penalty due to their size. Even encumbrance is modified by the creature’s size; a halfling can carry only 3/4ths the weight of a human with the same strength score.

The weighted-by-race system, in contrast, is intended to use absolute values for the ability scores. A character with 10 strength can carry the same amount of stuff regardless of whether they are a pixie or an ogre. (accommodations would be made for quadrupeds). That might sound ridiculous, but bear in mind that neither of those creatures will ever have a strength of 10. A pixie’s strength would probably be something on the order of 5d2, take the lowest 3. While an ogre’s strength might be the highest 3 out of 5d10.

I still like my system better. Not only is it significantly simpler, (small characters don’t need to record a dozen different penalties for the game’s different subsystems), but it’s also more consistent. RAW Pathfinder’s ability scores are only relative for the physical abilities. Mental abilities (Int/Wis/Cha) are absolute. Regardless, though, I don’t think the ability penalty flaw system will work with the weight-by-race system. Not unless I come up with a very different way to implement it.

The nice thing about killing your babies as a game designer, as opposed to killing them as a writer, is that game mechanics are modular, while writing often isn’t. Someday I’ll get to use the ability penalty flaw system…

…someday…

Colorful Characters 25: Sestronatara

NOTE: If you participate in my monthly ToKiMo Pathfinder campaign, I advise you against reading this post. It will be much more fun for you to encounter this information through play, than it will be fore you to read it here.

Six hundred years ago, she lived a peasant’s life, and knew herself by a peasant’s name. A name which does not matter, and which she has long since forgotten. Sestronatara was born from that peasant she once was, when her mistress drained her of human weakness and gifted to her a new existence as a fledgeling vampire. In that existence she has served her mistress, as fledgelings do. As she aged she grew in power, and independence. When she had been in her mistress service for roughly a century, she was given a task:

Travel to the Castle Nalew, ancient sanctum of the mad god who one walked the earth. There, locate the Blade of Boleshi, which the mad god crafted from the carapace of the mother of spiders. Retrieve it, and return.

Dutifully, Sestronatara crossed the oceans and deserts of the world, and entered the dread god’s labyrinth to begin her search. She wandered the dungeon’s halls, slaying or enslaving all she met there. Shortly after she arrived, she encountered a paladin; a dwarf named Elzhemer. He also sought the Blade of Boleshi, determined to destroy such an evil artifact. The two fought to a stalemate before retreating to continue their search with a renewed sense of urgency.

For thirty years the two searched, and fought, neither gaining the upper hand. Sestronatara became impatient, and plotted to end her game with the infuriating Elzhemer. In their next encounter, she ‘lost’ her journal while fleeing from her foe. Within, he found every note she’d made for 30 years, and combining her knowledge with his, he knew precisely where to find the long-sought blade.

But unbeknownst to the righteous Elzhemer, his nemesis had disguised herself as a spider on the ceiling. She followed his every step, through hundreds of rooms and countless deadly traps, until the two reached their prize. Before Elzhemer could move to claim the cursed blade, Sestronatara let fall her disguise and made to kill the dwarf. For a day, sparks from clashing weapons were the chamber’s only light, and howls of rage and pain were its only sound. When all seemed lost for him, Elzhemer smashed a glass vial of holy water against the vampire’s head, burning away her skin and hair, leaving her head forever bald. But Sestronatara recovered, and proved victorious. With the Blade of Boleshi, she cut her foe’s hands away, then chained him so she could drag the meat to her mistress.

But when Sestronatara reached the entrance of the dungeon, she found she could not leave. In the 30 years the two had been here, a group of powerful wizards and clerics had banded together and sealed Castle Nalew against any entrance or exit. The vampiress raged and beat against the barrier, but could not escape. And in her 30 years of exploration, she had never discovered another pathway out. The pair were trapped.

Five hundred years have passed since then. Sestronatara has claimed a small wing of Nalew for herself, and filled it with her own fledgelings and slaves. To occupy herself, she collects what objects of beauty can be found in the dungeon, and will offer a good price for any art piece. She has grown powerful, and independent. No longer does she wish to serve the mistress who created her–though she still keeps the Blade of Boleshi hidden away. She cannot disobey her mistress’ final command.

In her chambers, beard grey with age, the handless Elzhemer remains chained. A pedestal has been placed just out of his arm’s reach, and upon it is a hammer and wooden stake he could never hope to use without hands. The paladin’s anguish soothes her.

Sestonatara (CR 8)

XP: 4,800
Female Human Vampire, Sorceress 6
NE Undaed
Init +9; Senses Perception +14, Darkvision (60ft)

Defenses

AC 23, Flat Footed 17, Touch 17 [10 + Dex(6) + Natural(6) + Dodge(1)]
hp 67 (6d8 + 36)
Fast Healing 5
Fort +3 (Immune unless effect can target objects, or is harmless) Ref +8 Will +6
DR 15/Magic & Silver
Resist Fire 20, Channel 4, Cold 15, Electricity 10
Immunities Mind affecting effects, Bleed, Death effects, Disease, Paralysis, Poison, Sleep effects, Stunning, Nonlethal Damage, Ability Drain, Energy Drain, Physical Ability Score Damage, Exhaustion, Fatigue effects, Death from massive damage, effects which require a fortitude save

Offense

Speed 30ft
Melee Staff + 8 (1d4 + 5, 20/x2)(Reflex save DC: 11 v. being knocked flat)
Melee Slam +6 (1d4 + 3, 20/x2)(Magic Weapon)(Energy Drain)
Sorcerer Spells (CL 6th; Concentration +11; +2 save DC for Evocation spells)
3rd (4/day) — Lightning Bolt
2nd (7/day) — False Life, Scorching Ray, Shatter
1st (6/day) — Chill Touch, Burning Hands, Magic Missile, Mage Armor, True Strike
0 (at will) — Dancing Lights, Flare, Light, Ray of Frost, Blood, Message, Daze
Bloodline Undead
Bloodline Arcana Corporeal undead are susceptible to your mind-affecting spells.
Bloodline Powers
Grave Touch — Able to summon a familiar.
Death’s Gift — Resist cold 5, and DR 5/Magic & Silver

Stats

Str 16 (+3) Dex 20 (+5) Con — (–) Int 13 (+1) Wis 6 (-2) Cha 21 (+5)
Base Atk +3; CMB +6; CMD 21
Feats Iron Will, Spell Focus/Greater Spell Focus (Evocation), Dominate Focus (+1 Dominate DC), Alertness, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Improved Initiative, Lightning Reflexes, Toughness, Eschew Materials,
Skills Perception(+12), Spellcraft (+10), Use Magic Device (+14),
Languages Common, The Gravespeech, Draconic, Goblin
SQ
–Blood Drain: If an opponent is pinned, may deal 1d4 Con damage per round. Gains +5 HP (or +5 temporary HP) for each round blood is drained.
—Children of the Night: 1/day, summon 1d6+1 rat swarms, 1d4+1 bat swarms, or 2d6 wolves as a standard action. Creatures arrive in 2d6 rounds, and remain for 1 hour.
–Create Spawn: Creatures slain by blood drain or energy drain rise as subservient vampires within 1d4 days.
–Dominate: Target must succeed on a will save (DC 19) or fall under the effects of a Dominate spell.
–Energy Drain: Creatures hit by slam attacks gain two negative levels.
–Change Shape: May assume the form of a dire bat or wolf, as Beast Shape II
–Gaseous Form: As a standard action, or upon reaching 0 HP, the vampire can assume Gaseous Form indefinitely. Has a fly speed of 20ft with perfect maneuverability.
–Shadowless: Casts no shadows, nor is he reflected in a mirror
–Spider Climb: May climb surfaces as though under the effects of the Spider Climb spell.
–Combat Reflexes: May make up to 5 attacks of opportunity per round. Even while flat footed.

Weaknesses
–Aversion: Cannot tolerate the strong odor of garlic, mirrors, nor strongly presented holy symbols. Must succeed on a DC 25 will save each round, or stay at least 5ft away from these objects.
—Entrance: Cannot enter any private home or dwelling unless invited by someone with the authority to do so.
–Sunlight: Exposure to direct sunlight causes the staggered condition in the first round, and utter destruction in the second round.
–Running Water: Being submerged in running water deals damage equal to 1/3rd of max hit points per round. Upon reaching 0HP, the character cannot escape using gaseous form as normal.
–Wooden Stake: If a wooden stake is driven through the heart while Sestronatara is helpless, she is instantly slain. However, if the stake is ever removed, she returns to life unless her head is also severed and burned.

Gear Staff of Impact (+2, Knockdown), Key Ring (Opens her secret treasure room), Wand of Fireball (8 charges), Close-Call-Cloak (+1 to all saves)

Magical Rings by *BATTLEFAIRIES

For me, magical rings are the quintessential magic item. Sure magic brooches or magic swords can be cool, and often are, but there’s something about rings. Maybe its the fact that we imbue them with an almost magical significance in our society (wedding rings being the most prominent example). Perhaps it’s because they ornament our hands, and our hands are fuckin’ amazing.

The above piece from *BATTLEFAIRIES is an example of how varied rings can be. It’s something I tried to express myself a few months back, but there’s really no substitute for art when you’re trying to express the appearance of something. I highly recommend you check out the artist’s gallery, where there are several other pieces similar to this one. Including a nice array of weapon designs.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 13

This is the thirteenth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Non-Player Characters” on page 100, and continues through “Hiring Non-Player Characters to Cast Spells or Use Devices” on page 104. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag. And yes, this is the second day I’ve posted one of these in a row. And nobody can stop me! Mwuahaha!

Personae of Non-Player Characters: Random charts to determine an NPC’s traits are nothing new. Though, I suppose they probably were new when this book was published. None the less, the concept is commonplace enough that I don’t really have anything to say about it.

The execution of this particular set of charts, however, is odd. Some of the charts seem to overlap each other (such as Alignment & Morality. More on that later), while others seem only marginally useful, such as “Energy” and “Thrift.” Why does every NPC need to be defined on a scale between “Slothful” and “Driven?” Despite these complaints, the charts are pretty good. I like the idea of rolling for an NPC’s level of bravery, or their level of honesty. I don’t recall seeing those on most NPC generation charts, and it seems like something I would use.

Reading this section gave me an idea I’ll need to play with at some point. The gist of it is a set of ‘tiered’ random charts for determining NPC traits. The first tier contains only the most vital information for generating a random NPC, such as their age, race, and profession. It’s small, and can be kept at the table to quickly come up with interesting characters. The second chart would be a little more detailed, and could be used if this particular NPC ended up sticking around for an entire game session or two. It would determine character traits which might not be immediately apparent, such as the character’s piety or knowledge. If the NPC became a long-term addition to the game world, a potential third chart could be used to give them some items of minutia (backstory, marital status, etc.) which the GM can use to keep the character interesting over time.

Morals:

“Morals refer to the sexual tendencies of the NPC, although this trait rating can be used with regard to some ethical questions.”

Um…WHAT!?

First, why is that a thing the GM needs to know? Second, why would this come up? Third, why is sexuality framed as morality? This bothers me a whole hell of a lot. Look at the possible options when rolling on the ‘morality’ table:

Morals (d12)
1. Aesthetic
2. Virtuous
3. Normal
4. Normal
5. lusty
6. lusty
7. lustful
8. immoral
9. amoral
10. perverted
11. sadistic
12. depraved

The progression is pretty clear: the more sex you have, the less moral you are. I’m just happy he didn’t go so far as to define what he meant by terms 8-12. I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t like knowing what G.G. thought of my sexuality.

Non-Player Character Encounter/Offer Reaction Adjustments: This is a good example of what I was referring to yesterday when I wrote that Gygax was a poor communicator. I honestly have no idea what anything in this section means. At all. There are some words, and some percentages which can either positively or negatively affect something based on aforementioned words…but that’s all I can gather.

Based on the title of the section, I imagine there’s a concept described either elsewhere in the DMG or in the PHB which I’m supposed to apply this section to. But that doesn’t really help me much.

Height and Weight Tables: Why not use the tables that were printed for player characters? Why did they need to be printed again? 0.o

Special Roles of the Dungeon Master: I don’t have a lot to say about this section, but I feel like I’ve been harshing on Gary a lot in these last two segments. So I want to point out that these ~1.5 pages are great. They cover their topic in detail, along with an example to help budding GMs understand how the directives presented here function in play. I particularly like the subsection on monsters, which demands that the GM always play the monsters intelligently. And demands it with no lack of emphasis, going so far as to say “In all cases, the DM is absolutely obligated to play the monster in question to the best of his or her ability.” The example of play demonstrating the difficulties a player might encounter when searching for an NPC wizard is also very well written, and pretty funny to boot.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 12

This is the twelfth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “First Dungeon Adventure” on page 96, and continues through the example of play which ends on page 100. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

The First Dungeon Adventure: The whole point of having an example of play is to demonstrate the basics of the game, to introduce the GM to what their role is, and how they should interact with the player. This first section, which is geared towards how to move the players towards an adventure, does a halfway decent job of that. But it could be much better, in my opinion. Rather than simply writing “You inform them that there is a rumor in the village that something strange and terrible lurks in the abandoned monastery not far from the place,” why not directly address the what a hook is and how it should be handled? The example is fine, if a little mundane, but it could have been improved by adding something as simple as: “This is called the adventure hook. The purpose is to inform and entice the players towards an adventure, though the GM should avoid forcing the players down any given path.” Which is pretty much exactly what Gygax does in the next bit, where he describes the character’s guide. It’s noted that the guide might be “an agent of some good or evil power, a thief in disguise, or just about anything else.”

I don’t think this section is bad, but in my reading of this book so far, it has become apparent that Gygax, though brilliant, was not the best communicator*. Perhaps I am wrong. I never met the man. But, since this is often considered to be his greatest work, I think it’s a pretty fair assessment. The above is hardly the worst example I’ve encountered, but it is relevant because the following section is a back-and-forth between players and GM. I’ve heard from a few different sources that reading and re-reading this section is how they learned to play. It’s where all the confusing rules start to make sense.

*Which isn’t to say I am.

Example of Play:

(After asking the players to provide their marching order).
“DM: “Why are the gnome and the halfling in the front rank, the magic user in the middle, and the human fighter and cleric in the rear?”
LC: “That way all 5 of us can act when we encounter an enemy! The magic-user can cast spells over the heads of the short characters in front, and the pair in the back rank can do likewise, or fire missiles, or whatever is needed, including a quick move to the front!”

This is right near the start of the example of play, and I think it’s my favorite exchange presented. I’ve written before about the importance of clarity both from the GM and from the players. If one party doesn’t fully understand the other, then the game starts to feel unfair. I do my best to be clear, and if I don’t fully understand what my players are doing, I’ll ask them to describe it in greater detail. But I don’t think I’ve ever considered asking “why” they’re doing something. To ask that would almost seem like participating in their decision making, which is not my role. My role is to respond to their actions.

However, here “why” is clearly used to improve the clarity of the situation. If the GM would not allow the fighter in the back row to use a ranged weapon over the magic user’s head, then it’s better the players find out now, rather than when they’re in combat.

“DM: “Just as the three are about in position to look down the passages, and while the cleric is heading for the rotting bags, the magic-user cries out, and you see something black and nasty looking upon her shoulder!”
LC: “EVERYBODY, QUICK! SEE WHAT’S ATTACKED HER!” Then, turning to the referee: “We rush over to help kill whatever has attacked her! What do we see?”

…

Okay, two things.

LC, I get that you’re excited. The game is exciting, and something exciting is happening. But you really don’t need to shout across the table for everyone’s character to see what attacked the magic user. Everybody wants to know that. They’re all gonna look. I know this is just Gygax having some fun, but LC just officially became that guy for me.

Which, more to the point, the LC (Lead Character) concept is just weird. I understand that sometimes a certain player is going to become the de facto leader of the adventuring party, but the way it is presented here is strange. The LC literally announces the actions of every character, and apparently those players are cool with it. Perhaps this was done to save space, but the LC implies a style of play where most of the participants are almost spectators.

OC: (The cleric, of course.) “I squash the nasty thing with my mace!” and here the player, having already gained savoir faire, rolls a d20 to see if his strike is successful. A 20, and a beaming player shouts: “I got it!”
DM: “You’re right, and you do … (with these words the DM rolls a d6 to determine the amount of damage) SIX POINTS!”

So…why does the GM roll the player’s damage? Any oldschool players wanna educate me on this?

“DM: Each of you who are opening the door roll a d6 for me to see if you succeed. I see from you character sheets that the gnome has a normal strength, so he’ll need a 1 or a 2, the cleric has 17 strength so he’ll do it on a 1, 2, or 3.” (Eager hands roll the dice, and each succeeds in rolling a score low enough to indicate success.)”

Nearly every roll in this entire example of play is a success. I could really have used an example of what to do if the players fail at opening a door. Do they simply roll again? Is there a random monster check?

“OC: (The gnome:) “I’ll pull myself up into the passage revealed, and then I’ll see if I can drive in a spike and secure my rope to it, so I can throw the free end down to the others.”
DM: “You get up all right, and there is a crack where you can pound in a spike. As you’re doing it, you might be in for a nasty surprise, so I’ll let you roll a six-sider for me to see your status–make the roll! (Groans as a 1 comes up indicating surprise. The DM then rolls 3 attacks for the ghoul that grabbed at the busy gnome, and one claw attack does 2 hit points of damage and paralyzes the hapless character, whereupon the DM judges that the other 3 would rend him to bits. However, the DM does NOT tell the players what has happened, despite impassioned please and urgent demands. He simply relates:) “You see a sickly gray arm strike the gnome as he’s working on the spike, the gnome utters a muffled cry, and then a shadowy form drags him out of sight. What are you others going to do?”

I’m really glad a character death was included in the example of play. Honestly, if I were going to write a DMG, I might include an entire chapter on character death. It’s one of the most difficult things for a new GM to do, and it is really easy to do it wrong if you don’t have some good examples to work with.

The Gnome’s death is well justified. He entered an entirely new area, didn’t look around at all, and immediately began to make large amounts of monster-attracting noise. Though I do find it interesting that the character was not explicitly given a save v. paralysis.

Overall Assessment: The example of play was actually quite good. Many of my frustrations with the writing were not as prevalent here, and I can see why people would rely on this to teach them the game. Perhaps more examples of play are warranted in future DMGs. What if nearly every page of the DMG had a side-bar with a very brief example of play, demonstrating the concepts presented on that page?

It’s difficult for a new GM with new players to really understand the game they’re attempting to play. I’ve never heard of anybody in that situation who didn’t have some really awkward experiences before they figured out what they were doing. More examples like these might help mitigate that, and open up tabletop games to more casual gamers.