A Doodle Is Worth A Thousand Hallway Descriptions

About two years ago Diogo Nogueira wrote a post which eloquently explained the importance of contextualizing choices in a dungeon. The referee cannot simply say “There are exits to the East and West.” That’s a false choice. A coin flip. Useless information. I performed a reading of it for Blogs on Tape.

Earlier this year Anne Hunter wrote a response to Diogo. She agreed that his method was the best way to run dungeons, but argued that the current state of published material made it an unreasonable expectation to place on referees. After all: if a hallway has 4 exits, that’s 4 rooms that must be referenced and processed into clues before the referee can finish describing the hallway. She suggests the problem could be alleviated by keying hallways to include these hints. I have performed a Blogs on Tape reading of her post as well.

Diogo is correct* about how dungeons ought to be described. The importance of giving players sufficient information to make their choices with real agency is fundamental to OSR play. Anne is likewise correct that most published material doesn’t support this style of play. Speaking for myself, I’ve only got so much mental bandwidth. Sometimes it’s difficult to process the current room’s description for my players. Processing every adjacent room’s text in the same breath just isn’t going to happen.

*(Though there is some unexplored ground on what can make a dungeon choice meaningful. A simple East or West choice can work if the players are mapping, and have a specific place they wish to reach or to avoid. Likewise, one corridor left undescribed while another is given detail creates a meaningful contrast. )

So my D&D friends are super cool people with clever thoughts about gameplay, and they deserve to have their work read. That’s good and great and all, but what’s the point of this post? Well: while Anne is correct in her criticism, I don’t like keying hallways as a solution. I have 3 reasons.

Reason the First: Adding descriptions to hallways would make dungeons more wordy. Words take time to read; so unless they are memorized more words means the game will run slower at the table. We ought to be aiming for dungeons that are less wordy, not more.

Reason the Second: If the idea is to add information to help referees give players meaningful choices about which exit to choose, then we couldn’t stop at hallways. All rooms have exits, and so all rooms would need this extra text, further exacerbating bloat issue.

Reason the Third: A set of static hints for what exists in adjacent spaces feels like a drift towards boxed text. It attempts to do the referee’s thinking for them, and in doing so makes the dungeon inflexible. I would rather a more open ended tool. One that can be interpreted different ways in different circumstances.

Rather than adding more text to our room descriptions, I believe the problem would best be solved by adding more descriptive art to our dungeon maps. This would avoid straining our readers’ attentions with bloated text, and make use of space that is otherwise left empty.

Take this Dyson Logos map. It’s gorgeous, modern, and empty. If someone were to use it for their module, they’d of course need to add reference numbers in each room they wished to key. The numbers alone would hardly fill the space, so why stop there? If each room also had a tiny doodled icon that represented its contents, that would turn the map into a vastly more powerful tool.

It is reasonable to assume that anyone running a published adventure will need to have read it through at least once. Their familiarity with the text will allow them to dynamically create their own hints for players on the fly. A cat-o-nine tails icon might indicate a torture chamber. When the players come to that door, the referee might describe screams of pain coming from beyond, or it might be smeared with blood, or an executioner’s hood might hang on a hook beside it. The referee is empowered, rather than dictated to.

The art need not be fancy, either. So long as the referee can look at what you doodled and be reminded of what they read, the goal is accomplished. I experimented with this in Mice with Legitimate Grievances, which has an ugly as hell map, but even my crude scribblings do the job of giving the referee better access to necessary information. I regret that I didn’t carry on with it in The Dachshund Dungeon, but I believe it’ll be a standard feature of my adventures from here on.

By all the gods real and imagined it feels good to get back to writing.

The Engine of On a Red World Alone

Three and a half years ago I began a Rules as Written LotFP game set on post apocalyptic Mars, and called it “On a Red World Alone.” Bit by bit each rule was tinkered with. Today ORWA is a game unto itself, and if you’re interested in what that game looks like I’ve linked the current rules document below.

This revision, the 8th, is a complete ground-up rewrite, and the first I’ve ever shared publicly. The version of the document linked below also includes all the tables and encounters I use to run the game. The stuff my players never get to see.

Speaking of, if you play in ORWA, or if you’re interested in doing so, you should not read this document. It contains information which would be deleterious to your enjoyment of the game.

ORWA Version 8.
Don’t click if you play in the game!

I hope this will be interesting to folks who have followed the evolution of my process. In here you’ll see the most up-to-date versions of how I run Haven Turns, or how I structure encounter tables. That said, what you won’t see is much explanatory text at all. These are notes written either for myself, or for my players, so it may not always be clear to someone outside that fairly limited circle. If anyone has questions, I’ll be happy to answer them in the comments.

Gift Giver Class (Revised)

I only got to playtest the Gift Giver for about 6 months back in 2016. We got a good sense of what worked and what didn’t, but I admit I wish I’d taken better notes. I’m sure there’s something I forgot in this revision.

The act of giving gifts was a huge hit, but for some reason the original draft hadn’t made it more the focus of a class that was literally named for doing it. Perhaps because it’s tricky to build a class around social encounters when no two people run their social encounters the same way. I’m not sure I’ve done much better on that front below, but I’ve made more of an effort. The class’s secondary powers also needed some expansion and punch up.

The Gift Giver

The Jolly Order of Gift Givers is a society of venerable men, women, and other folk noted for their generosity and good cheer. Upon induction to the order each Gift Giver is endowed with mystic powers in accordance with the Faustian bargain made by the Order’s saintly founder in time immemorial. It’s said to be the only truly successful deal ever made with the Devil. The contract (penned in the founder’s own hand) is contained in 14,823 volumes in a vault deep beneath the Order’s ancestral meeting hall. Priests and church scholars of every stripe have poured over the document for centuries and report a baffling lack of any sin committed either by the founder, or by those who take the Jolly Oaths.

Basics

Gift Givers have a d6 hit die. They level according to the Fighter’s experience table, with the attack modifiers and saving throws of a Specialist or Thief. They have no particular limitations for weapon or armor use, though given the weight of the gifts they carry they may become over-encumbered if they insist on wearing heavy armor. While not required, bright colors and bells are a sort of unofficial uniform for Gift Givers. Other members of the order may look askance at someone who dressed otherwise.

Though elves are not usually willing to become hirelings to anyone but other elves, they have a mysterious liking for these jolly old folk which gives them a +2 to their loyalty. Even the elves don’t really know why they feel this way. The Gift Givers do, but won’t reveal the secret.

Gifts, and Giving Them

At the outset of each new adventure the Giftgiver muse spend 25% of their liquid wealth purchasing gifts for others. Likewise, these unspecified and amorphous gifts take up 25% of their total encumbrance at all times. If the player chooses to abandon their supply of gifts for the extra carrying capacity, they will lose access to all class features (not just gift giving) until they stock back up.

A subtle predictive magic is at play when a Gift Giver goes shopping. They themselves doesn’t really know why they buy the things they buy, but in their travels they will invariably have the perfect gift for everyone they meet. Players are encouraged to be creative and generous in coming up with good gifts for every shopkeep, quest giver, and parleying monster they encounter. The only limitation is that it must be something that could be reasonably found, made, scavenged, or purchased in the place where the adventure began.

A member of the Jolly Order would never attach strings to a gift. To do so would sully the act of giving, transform it into an exchange or a bribe. That is not the Gift Giver way. None the less, gifts change the balance of most social situations. Folks generally feel an obligation to be friendly. They’ll usually want to make some kind of concession, or offer something they think is useful as a gift in return. Precisely how they respond is up to the referee, but unless they are a truly hateful creature they ought to do something nice.

The unexpectedness of what each NPC will consider an appropriate response to a gift is part of this class’s charm, and shouldn’t be over-mechanized. That said, it’s also a little wishy-washy, and may be difficult to wrap your head around. If need be, have the player roll 3d6 and add the higher two results together, resulting in a number between 2 and 12. The higher the result, the better the NPC’s response is.

Gift Givers are limited to one gift per person per year. That’s just how the magic works.

Gift Giver Magics

Starting at second level, and at every even-numbered level thereafter, the Gift Giver’s generosity has earned them a new magic power in accord with the ancient contract. Roll d10 on the table below to determine which power they gain. If the player rolls a power they already have, they may choose for themselves one power which they don’t.

None of a Gift Giver’s abilities are subject to magical resistances, such as anti-magic fields or counter spells.

Gift of Entry
Enchant Animal
Sleepytime Kiss
Treat Oneself
Gift of Cold
Time Stop
Shrink Object
Gaze of Shame
Baleful Levitate
Know Heart

1. Gift of Entry

By touching the outer wall of a structure, the Gift Giver instantly appears on the other side with a faint ‘pop.’ They may bring with them a number of passengers equal to their level.

The power only allows the character to enter or exit a discrete structure. It cannot be used to bypass interior walls or doors once inside. Gift Givers may only use this power on a given structure once to enter, and once to exit each day.

While not strictly required, it is expected that a Gift Giver will leave gifts in any building they enter in this fashion. If it were known that a character failed to do so, they might be summoned to make an account of themselves before the elders of the Jolly Brotherhood.

2. Enchant Animal

Herbivorous animals do not fear a Gift Giver. They’ll happily come up and climb onto the character’s shoulder, or nuzzle against them. Once this power is obtained the Gift Giver may enchant one of these creatures for every 2 levels they have. The animals remain enchanted until they die, or the Gift Giver releases them.

Enchanted Animals can speak, and fly, and will happily perform almost any task the Gift Giver requests of them. The one thing they won’t do is deadly violence. They’re happy to trip or disarm a bad person, but will do nothing that would deal direct harm. If the Gift Giver asks this of them, the enchantment is broken, and the animal will flee.

3. Sleepytime Kiss

By kissing someone, a Gift Giver can send them into a magical slumber which lasts for 1 hour. No saving throw against this is allowed. Sleepers cannot be awakened by noise or gentle physical contact. Rough physical treatment will break the spell.

A Sleepytime Kiss can not be performed in combat, or against anyone who is actively resisting the kiss. The target must either accept the kiss willingly, or be surprised by the kiss. A peck on the hand or cheek is sufficient.

Kissing someone who is already asleep will ensure they remain asleep for at least 1 more hour. Kissing someone multiple times does not add additional hours, it merely restarts the 1 hour countdown.

4. Treat Oneself

Gift Givers never know why they buy something. They simply trust the magic which guides their intuition. They know that at some point in their travels, they’ll encounter a person for whom each object is a perfect gift.

At some point their generosity is so commendable that the magics which guide them start to give something back. Unknowingly, the Gift Giver begins to purchase gifts for themselves. At some point during each adventure they may produce a single item which they now realize they purchased to aid them in whatever situation they currently find themselves in. Like the gifts given to others, these must be something that could reasonably be purchased, found, made, or scavenged at the location where they last stocked up on gifts.

5. Affinity for Cold

Weather cold enough to do harm to most folks is energizing to the Gift Giver. In such conditions they have the strength of 2 people, and experience the opposite of whatever hindrances most people face. If the weather is cold enough to deal d4 hit points of damage each hour, then the Gift Giver heals d4 hit points each hour. If the snow slows most folks movement speed by half, then the Gift Giver’s is doubled.

This effect also protects the Gift Giver from cold-based magical attacks. Against an Ice Dragon’s breath they would take half damage on a failed save, and no damage on a successful save. Against a sword with an extra d6 of frost damage, they’d only take normal weapon damage, etc.

6. Time Stop

Gift Givers have an uncanny knack for getting a lot of work done in the blink of an eye. The legends they tell of their founder say he was able to accomplish impossible feats in a single night. Contemporary members of the Joyful Order aren’t quite so skilled, perhaps because the powers are now spread across so many different people?

Once per day a Gift Giver can stop time for d4 + 1 rounds. During which time they can move and act normally. If a Gift Giver refrains from using this power for an entire year, they can gather enough power to themselves to stop time for a full d4 + 1 hours.

7. Shrink Object

In order to facilitate the ability to carry better gifts, the character gains the ability to shrink objects down to a more manageable size. This can be done to any number of objects, as many times per day as desired. The character need only touch the item, and it’ll shrink small enough to only take up a single encumbrance. Restoring the item to its proper size is equally simple.

Only inanimate material can be shrunk by this method. People and animals are immune.

8. Gaze of Shame

There’s nothing worse than the look of profound disappointment on the face of a Giftgiver. It crushes a person’s ego, makes them reevaluate themselves and their actions.

Gaze of Shame is only effective against targets who are not in combat against the Giftgiver, and can only ever be used once per target. Ever.

The weight of shame will cause the target to change their mind on a single issue indicated by the Giftgiver. What they change their mind to may not be precisely what the Giftgiver wanted, but in good faith the referee should make the target’s new position an improvement over their old one.

9. Baleful Levitate

With a waggle of their fingers and a polite barb about their target’s foibles, Gift Givers can cause one creature within their line of sight to begin floating. They may do this as often as they please, but their targets are entitled to a saving throw versus Paralyzation to resist the effect, and gain a +1 bonus to their save for each creature already floating.

Floating characters are repelled by any surface they attempt to gain purchase on. They drift erratically, unable to control their position. They can still act, but nothing is easy. For example, they can only attack people they happen to drift towards, and even then will never be in the optimum position, so their attacks are penalized by d10, re-rolled each round.

10. Know Heart

By fixing their attention on a person, a Gift Giver can know their innermost desires, and the nature of their character. This ability does not communicate the specifics of the target’s intent, plans, thoughts, or deeds. It merely lets the Gift Giver know what they want, and whether they are naughty or nice.

Nick LS Whelan Project Roundup 2

I mentioned in my revision of the Bear in Disguise that I ought to fill you in on all the bookmaking I’m doing. What’s so great that I’m neglecting my poor old blog which has served me well for so many years? In this post all will be revealed! I did something like this once before back in January of 2017, so let’s call it part 2 of a series. Heads up: there is NO interesting game content in this post. If you’re not interested in what I’m spending my time on, this is a very good post to skip. I’ll have another class revision out hopefully before the end of the month, so you can look forward to that.

The most relevant place to start is Deadly Dungeons, and the fact that it didn’t sell very well at all. It’s kinda crushing to spend literal years working on something, only to then discover nobody wants it. Putting a book together is a grueling, miserable process. I do it for love of developing and refining cool ideas, but a big part of what gets me through the rough times is the hope that when I’m done it’ll be just a little easier to pay rent. Instead, the first month of sales for Deadly Dungeons made it a little easier to pay for pizza.

Then, Deadly Dungeons got a bit of unexpected advertising, and the second month’s sales shot through the roof. Not rent money, but definitely “rent will be easier this month” money.

Before now I operated on the naive that if I just made sure to write great books and maintain a kickass blog, that’d be all the advertising I needed. Turns out actual advertising is all the advertising I needed. Most folks who read my work seem to like it. The trick is getting my work in front of them in the first place. It’s something I shoulda known. It’s not like people didn’t tell me. Sometimes I gotta learn lessons the hard way.

The result is that I’m shifting more of my attention towards pushing my extant work in front of people, trying to learn how to hustle. I’ve set up stores on itch.io, DriveThruRPG, and Lulu. I’m working to drive as much traffic there as I can, so if you know anyone who’s interested in THE BEST GAME BOOKS ANYBODY IS WRITING THESE DAYS, they’d probably appreciated it if you shared those links with them. 😉

Writing-Wise my current project is Miscreated Creatures: Volume I. Long time readers will remember this big ol’ monster book, which I’ve been working at off-and-on since 2013. I’ve finally accepted that my original vision just isn’t feasible at my scale. WotC or Paizo might be able to publish a book of 325 monsters, but they’ve got a bajillion people working on those books. So instead I’ve pulled out 20 of my monsters, recruited a team of artists and layout people, and am as of this writing 80% of the way done with a working draft. My aim is to have this available by the first quarter of 2020, and hopefully make enough to fund a Volume II.

Of course the writing will be done much earlier. Within the next 2 weeks I think, at which time I’ll leave the artists to do their work and turn my attention to something short and sweet in the vein of Mice with Legitimate Grievances or The Dachshund Dungeon. The tentatively titled Dungeon of Five Anomalies already has a killer map, and most of the rooms are keyed. It’s something tinkered with whenever I had dead time at my dayjob. I anticipate being able to get that into your hands by early Fall, though Fall is going to be unpredictable for me due to various life circumstances. I can’t make promises about anything during that time.

If you didn’t notice, my ancient release The Bloodsoaked Boudoir of Velkis the Vile recently got some attention. Greyscale art just doesn’t work on covers for me, so I recently commissioned Moreven B. to produce something a little more colorful. While amending the document I took the opportunity to give it an entirely new and improved layout. The book is free, so you should definitely check it out. If you feel like dropping a dollar in my tip jar for it, I’ve got it set up as Pay What you Want.

The On a Red World Alone setting book is in a…weird place. Essentially what happened is that about a week after I started working on it I got approached with two amazing job offers. One of those became Faux Pas, and the other is as yet forthcoming from a certain Finnish publisher. Great projects and I’m glad I worked on them, but taking months off to write them derailed the ORWA project, and I never quite got back on that horse again. It’s still in the pipeline. In fact I’ve been putting a lot of work into a new player-facing document these past weeks, which I’ll eventually share here on P&P. It’s not a full setting book, but it will likely be the basis for one when I eventually get around to it. Given that it will be a large project, I probably won’t give it another serious attempt until my smaller projects start turning a more consistent profit.

Writing and art for The Duchy of the Damned Dancing Duke are done. At over 150 pages of text alone, this is a whole different beast from anything else I’ve ever done, or am even planning to do in the near future. This is not something I can handle fully in-house. I’ve hired an editor who is currently at work on the text, after which I’m going to hire a layout person. Depending on how the text lays out on the page there may need to be a round of supplemental art before the end. Once we’ve got the text assembled the plan is to do a kickstarter to fund an actual for-real print run of the book. The nice thing is that the pdf would already be done, so it could be sent to backers immediately after the campaigns ends.

My card game, As Seen on TV is similarly out of my hands at the moment. I’ve got a fully realized prototype in the hands of a publisher who is interested. Progress is a little sluggish, but that’s just how these things tend to go.

Bubblegum Berzerk is in a slightly more unfortunate limbo right now. The game was completed to my satisfaction about 2 years ago, but has been stuck on production snags which are fully out of my hands. To be honest I’m a little out of the loop myself, but I hope to be able to share it with you all someday.

Of course, everybody loves Blogs on Tape, so it’s unfortunate that it doesn’t get updated more regularly. I’ve learned that the best approach for me is to let BoT cycle naturally. It’s more a hobby of mine than a serious pursuit, which usually means that I’ll get super invested in BoT for a month or so, then get interested in one of my other hobbies and the podcast will go dormant for awhile. It’s a healthy cycle, and will probably continue in that fashion unless the Ko-Fi donations start actually paying for the server costs, and guilt me into putting it on a firm schedule.

That’s about it for projects that are presently ongoing. There’s a lot of other stuff that I’d like to do, or have even said I’m going to do, but which I haven’t yet put in enough work to make them worth talking about. I will say that I’d like to move into doing some fiction in the coming years. It’s always been an ambition of mine, and it would seem wise not to keep all my writing eggs in the RPG basket. I do actually have a lot of work done on a couple stories I think will do well, but both are erotica and not appropriate to share here. Diversity is strength. If I can get some short stories, and novels, and maybe video game writing on my resume I’ll feel much more well rounded and secure.

Since I called this “Project Roundup 2,” I suppose it’s only fitting that I at least touch on everything from the first Project Roundup that didn’t get a mention above:

Dumb Stuff Taken Seriously is long defunct. Tzvi and I hadn’t recorded an episode in about 2 years. When my web server got hacked the DSTS website was actually the hardest hit. I wasn’t able to save anything from there, and we decided not to put in the work involved to restore it. By now the domain has lapsed. It’s doubtful this project will ever be revived. It was never all that good, though we might someday figure out how to make the old episodes available again somewhere.

Dungeon Moon is eternally on my back burner. I met up with Gus of Dungeon of Signs a few weeks ago. We walked around Seattle and he pestered me to publish more Dungeon Moon stuff, which I want to do, but time is a bitch. My hope is that shifting some of my focus towards smaller projects with a higher turnover will give me the opportunity to explore Dungeon Moon again by publishing smaller dungeon bits.

In fact, several projects from that old post will likely be getting a more speedy turnover if I can figure out how. Things like The Boulder Dungeon and The Luncheon are already 80% done, and will likely be on the docket shortly after the 5 Anomalies Dungeon. The Clitoris is the Devil’s Doorbell isn’t anywhere near done at all, but will also probably wind up as one of those quick turnover dungeons if I can get it to work. The Sideways Tower of Slaggoth the Necromancer is also largely done, but it’s also…large. More on the scale of Miscreated Creatures Volume I. Something that will take a few months to get done. The same goes for 1000 Dragons, which will lamentably be re-titled something weird like 284 Dragons or something. I dunno, we will see.

They Came From the Silver Wheel wound up being a blog post, which is probably for the best. The SciFi game wound up becoming Fuck the King of Space, which was pretty deeply flawed. I’d like to revisit it and make a good version at some point in the future.

I think the last time I touched the Serial Killer Board Game was about a year before I wrote that last post. It was still bouncing around in my head at that point, but by now it’s so far on the back burner that it’s not even worth mentioning. Nothing is ever truly abandoned, but the odds of this getting finished are low.

That blog post is probably the last time I even thought about Fallin. That project really is dead, but only because ORWA incorporates so much of its ideas, and is vastly superior. If you take everything in ORWA out of Fallin, all you’re left with is the idea of the Internet being full of AI wizards who control the world’s Nukes and vie with one another for digital territory while mostly ignoring the primitive human survivors. Even that might wind up in the ORWA book if I decide to do a “What Destroyed The Earth” table.

And that is what I’m up to. Thanks for sticking around and reading my dumb little D&D whining. I appreciate you.

Bear in Disguise Class (Revised)

You might be surprised how difficult it can be to divide one’s attention between writing books and writing blogs. I’ve been working hard at bookmaking of late (have you seen my itch store?). I should probably fill you all in on that stuff, but first this place needs some damn posts. Over a month without an update makes me deeply uncomfortable.

A number of the new classes posted over the last few years are due to be revisited. Specifically the ones I’ve been able to play with, and thus gained a real sense of what worked and what didn’t in the first draft. There’s no better place to start than with an all-time favorite from way back in May 2016.

Bear in Disguise

As any sophisticated, sensible ursine knows, humans are ill equipped to deal with our kind. They are not stupid, per se, but they have narrow definitions of intelligence, civilization, and personhood. That we poop in the woods and prefer the taste of fresh fish to crushed weed-meal seems to humans an excellent argument for our lack of moral and intellectual agency. Yet credit must be given where it is due: humans have accomplished remarkable things despite their well documented lack of a soul.

Notable among these is their adventurous sensibility. There is a real ‘adventurer culture’ among humans. It is perhaps born of their inferior social structure which frequently produces problems that require extra-legal solutions. The social fabric of Bear Country is made of sterner stuff, but it does leave precious little opportunity for adventuresome youths to test their mettle. It is therefore not uncommon for a young bear to travel among humans for a time. Of course it is necessary to employ disguise to avoid agitating the creatures, but that’s a simple enough thing for any bear to do.

Basics
Bears in Disguise have a d12 hit die. They level according to the Magic User’s experience table, but their attack modifiers and saving throws advance as a Cleric. They have no special limitations for weapon or armor usage, but any clothing or armor they wear must be specially fitted for them by a skilled artisan.

Claw / Claw / Bite
Bears are adept unarmed combatants. During each round of combat they may make two claw attacks against a single target, and if both claws successfully hit they may make a third roll to attempt a bite attack. Damage dealt scales with level.

1st Level: Claws d4, Bite d8
4th Level: Claws d6, Bite d10
7th Level: Claws d8, Bite d12

Knowledge of the Wilderness

Bears in Disguise begin play with maximum ranks the game’s equivalent of a wilderness survival skill. For Lamentations of the Flame Princess this would mean a 6-in-6 Bushcraft. If your game has more than one applicable skill the player should choose one, or divide their ranks between the various skills. If your game has no applicable skills, a simple understanding that bears know their way around the woods is sufficient.

Encumbrance

Bears in Disguise are always treated as though they are 1 step less encumbered than they are. When they are lightly encumbered, they may act as though they were unencumbered. When moderately encumbered they act lightly encumbered, and so on.

Disguise

The technique employed by Bears in Disguise defies explanation. Very little actually changes about their appearance, smells, or sounds. They don’t alter their face, shave their fur, or employ any illusory magics. It’s all body language and a nice hat. Even their voice is just growls and roars which, somehow, are heard as the common language of the creature they’re disguised as.

Humans are the most common disguise for adventuresome young bears, but they are technically capable of appearing as any creature with similar anatomy. A bear could disguise themselves as an orc, an elf, an ogre, etc. They could make an attempt at looking like a dwarf, but people would frequently comment about their aberrant size. Disguising themselves as a goblin or halfling is out of the question.

Good as it is, the disguise is not perfect. The first time any NPC pays particular attention to the bear there is a 1-in-20 chance they will percieve the character to be the ferocious wild animal they are. Everyone will think they’re crazy for saying so, but the NPC will refuse to have anything to do with the bear. They will likely flee in terror, or even attack if they feel cornered. Under most conditions this special perception check is only ever made once per NPC.

Altering the disguise is not easy. It requires at least a week of observation if the bear is not yet intimately familiar with the species they wish to emulate, and then several hours of meditation to shift from one brain space to another. Anyone who sees how effectively the bear can disguise itself as something new will get a second opportunity to see them as the ferocious beast they are. This time the chance is 50/50, and applies to everyone who knows the bear in multiple disguises. Even long time hirelings may not be willing to overlook the deception.

Fellow player characters will will never know their companion is a bear. They’re all assumed to have failed any chances they got at some point in the past. If they knew you were a bear, they’d never agree to party with you.

Grappling

Bears are natural grapplers, which is awkward to communicate given the vast disparity between methods of resolving grapples in different games.

At my table grapples are resolved by rolling pools of the participants’ hit dice against one another. So a level 3 fighter being grappled by two 1HD goblins would roll 3d8 against their 2d6. When using this method a Bear in Disguise grapples as though they have one hit die more than they do: two dice at level 1, three dice at level 2, etc. Given their d12 hit die this is a significant advantage.

In Lamentations of the Flame Princes RAW, grapples are resolved by opposed d20 rolls modified by attack bonus and strength modifier. If I were using this system I might say a Bear gets to roll 2d20 and take the better result, or I might say a Bear’s attack modifier is equal to a fighter’s for the purposes of Grappling.

Whatever method is used at your table the essential thing is that a Bear in Disguise is probably the best grappler that exists on two legs. They can be defeated, but it’ll probably take two or three common opponents working together to bring them down.

The Bear Code

Bears are strictly peaceful with one another. If a Bear in Disguise were to turn their claws against another of their kind they would be marked for death. The rest of their days would be spent worrying which shadows contained bearsassins, until one of them finally did. There is no process of appeal. It is the code of the bears.

If a bear is encountered by the party the Bear in Disguise may attempt to negotiate a settlement amenable to both. If hostilities break out they must either aid their fellow bear, or remain completely neutral. Even encouraging words to their companions would mark them a traitor, loathed by their own people for all time.

That’s the Bear in Disguise! Other classes you can expect revisions for are the Gift Giver, the Bangtail, and possibly The Action Hero. (Though, to be honest, that one worked pretty well. Not sure if anything needs changing.) I have had players roll up Possessor Spirits, Anti-Magic Clerics, and a Warlock, but those characters were too short lived to get much useful info on. If anybody else out there has run games with my classes I’d be delighted to hear about how it went.

New Class: The Beekeeper

Honeyed heroes. Wardens of the hives. Masked protectors of our buzzing pals. Beekeepers use a d8 hit die. They gain experience and roll saving throws as a Thief or Specialist would.

Beekeepers begin play with a special type of heavy gambeson, complete with gloves, boots, and mask. When not wearing this armor they lose access to any swarm control abilities they have. It’s the equivalent of leather armor against normal attacks. Against swarm type creatures it’s the equivalent of wearing pull plate and carrying a shield. The armor also grants a +2 bonus to any saving throws associated with harmful gas.

To be a true friend of the bees means being a superb dancer. At some point before play began the Beekeeper will have learned an intricate dance which allowed them to befriend a swarm of bees. The swarm now accompanies them wherever they go whether they like it or not. As the beekeeper grows to understand their friendly swarm better, they will learn new dances which each correspond to some specific instruction. The swarm is only large enough to follow one instruction at a time, though in some circumstances referees may opt to allow a swarm to be divided in half so that two instructions can be carried out with reduced efficacy.

At each level, including the first, Beekeepers roll on the table below. Each time a Swarm Instruction is learned it should be crossed off the table. In the event that the Beekeeper rolls a result that has already been crossed off, they may then freely choose one of the other abilities from the list. In this way the higher level a Beekeeper becomes the more likely they are to be able to choose the abilities they want. Though it is never guaranteed.

Swarm Instructions (Roll d12)

Stinging Cloud – The swarm spreads out to cover a space with a 10′ radius in any location the Beekeeper indicates. Enemies within that space take 1 damage per round.
Vibrating Death – The swarm clings to a single target indicated by the Beekeeper. Each bee vibrates, creating an incredible amount of heat. Deals 2d6 damage each round. If the target is larger than man sized, a single swarm can’t effectively cover it, and will instead deal only 2d4 damage each round.
Hive Construction – With incredible swiftness the swarm can construct a hive of whatever shape the Beekeeper desires. Each adventuring turn they work allows them to create the equivalent of a 5′ cube.
Second Swarm – The Beekeeper befriends another swarm, allowing their bees to carry out two instructions simultaneously. The Beekeeper can still only dance out one instruction per round.
Communal Carry – By working together the bees can carry an impressive amount of weight. Roughly equivalent to one adult human.
Buzzvoice – Precisely synchronized buzzing enables the swarm to produce a sound that is recognizable as human speech. They do not understand the language, and cannot use it to express their own thoughts or ideas, but they can use it to relay messages to and from the Beekeeper.
Intercepting Cloud – The swarm spreads out to cover a space with a 10′ radius in any location the Beekeeper indicates. Any missiles or single-target spells directed into this space will be intercepted by a brave bee. The swarm is able to protect against a number of attacks equal to double the Beekeeper’s level each day.
Bee’s Bounty – With great rapidity the swarm produces a great quantity of honey. Each 10 minute turn they could produce 1 bucket’s worth. The honey is sweet and nutritious, and soothing to many common ailments.
Gummy Goop – With great rapidity the swarm produces a substance that looks sorta like honey, but is bitter to the taste and incredibly sticky to touch. In a 10 minute turn they can coat a 5′ square area in this substance, and anything which touches it will be stuck for at least 2d6 turns.
Armor – The brave and noble bees rally around the Beekeeper, covering their body to protect them from incoming attacks. While shrouded by their friendly swarm in this fashion the Beekeeper’s armor class is equivalent to plate.
Buzzlarm – The swarm may be directed to form a perimeter, and to buzz an alarm if anyone crosses it. The beekeeper can direct them to raise an alarm only in certain circumstances, so long as those circumstances can be communicated in a way that is understandable to bees.
Stop Buzzing – The Beekeeper finally figures out how to get the swarm to uniformly STOP buzzing around them for a period. Turns out the beekeeper used to be pretty stealthy before a group of noisemakers started following them around everywhere. While their swarm is quiet the Beekeeper’s stealth ability is equal to whatever your game’s median stealth ability would be. Round up. (So: a 4-in-6 for LotFP, a d10 using Middle Road skills, etc).

Free PDF: The Dachshund Dungeon

I made a thing for you folks. It’s about a cordial society of Gentledogs trying to live up to their own values, and the wizard who doesn’t want them to. I hope ya’ll like it. Many thanks to Moreven B. for loving Dachshunds so much that she made me a mountain of fancy interior art. Also to my friends Joe V. and Comrade Pollux for providing some last minute proof reading. You would not believe some of the typos that almost made it into this thing.

Download The Dachshund Dungeon!

Deadly Dungeons is now available in Print & PDF!

Do you remember my old Deadly Dungeons posts? Each entry in the series described a tricky dungeon room for the players to unravel. They were meant to ready to drop into most any dungeon, and novel enough to challenge even a seasoned adventurer. They were the sorts of puzzles that didn’t have a single solution, but rather gave the referee a sense of their workings so the could best interpret the results of their players pokings and proddings.

If that sounds interesting to you, the old posts are still available on the site. Or, if you’d like to read the updated and refined versions of all the original 28 rooms, as well as 12 entirely new rooms, I’ve got a book for you to buy:

Buy Deadly Dungeons in print on LuLu!

Buy Deadly Dungeons as a PDF on DriveThruRPG!

In addition to my writing and cartography, the book contains dozens of pieces of new interior art by my sister Roni Whelan, layout by Moreven B., and an absolutely gorgeous cover by Ian Hagen. For real, look at this thing. It’s way too good for me:

I’d love to have Ian make covers for more of my books in the future, but I’m fairly certain that once this cover gets out there I’ll never be able to afford him again. He’s going to be buried under new commissions. This dude’s talent needs to be recognized.

As is my wont, I created a bunch of goofy image edits to help promote the book on social media. Here’s a gallery of them if you’re a fan of hacky GIMPwork:

Santicore 2017: d100 Alchemical Accidents

Secret Santicore 2017 is finally available thanks to the diligent stewardship of Steve Sigety and layout savior David Sugars. Tons of folks came together to produce these beautiful 90 pages of cool game shit. My own contribution was a d100 table of Alchemical Accidents:

While attempting to mix the desired concoction, there is an explosion, and…

When the dust settles, all that remains are two gallons of milk in plastic jugs.
One of the vials is unbroken, and it contains a potion of Suzie. The imbiber instantly transforms into an 8 year old girl with red pig tails, and freckles all over her face. She is the protagonist of a popular series of children’s books, and will want to go on adventures, and learn simple lessons. The transformation lasts until it is undone by some magic.
A puppy, which speaks like an 18^th century aristocrat appears.
A bucket’s worth of refined napalm pools on the floor.
The metaphysical concept of the number six has been made physically manifest. It must be protected at all costs. If it is destroyed, math will cease to function throughout the cosmos.
A single jar is is not shattered, and contains Fetish Juice. Anyone who consumes it will gain an intense, kinky desire.
Seeds blow out in all direction, at least a few of which will land outside. Within a year, the seeds will grow into thriving apple-on-a-cob plants.
A rift is torn open in space time, leading to the most boring possible version of the character’s reality.
There’s a puddle of green glowing goo on the ground. Touching it causes a person to mutate to resemble whatever other animal they were most recently in contact with.
There’s a puddle of green glowing goo on the ground. It doesn’t do anything, it’s just kinda gross.
Along with the smoke and shrapnel, there are bones in the explosion, enough for a full skeleton. It’s not clear where they came from, though study may reveal that they are exact clones of the alchemist’s own bones.
When the smoke clears, a naked clone of the alchemist is all that remains of the lab.
When the smoke clears, an evil naked clone of the alchemist is all that remains of the lab. The clone also has wings and laser eyes and twice as many hit points as the alchemist has.
When the smoke clears, all that remains of the lab is a clone of the alchemist that is such a profoundly good creature, that it cannot abide allowing the alchemist (who is necessarily evil by comparison) to live.
A single decanter remains intact, filled with a Potion of Shoe Location. When consumed, the imbiber will gain a sixth sense, enabling them to locate any shoews nearby.
The explosion is caused when sheets of paper begin to appear, one after the other, inside a sealed jar. Eventually the jar bursts, sending glass and pages everywhere. There is typing on the pages, and if they are gathered up and placed in the correct order, they form a really shitty novel.
All that is left is a lizard. A sort of iguana looking thing, with organic jet engines instead of feet, allowing it to fly or hover, as it wills.
There’s a beaker on the floor, filled with a Potion of Wanting a Haircut. Consuming it will cause a person to want to go get their hair cut.
A fleshy tarp covers the whole space of the laboratory. It shudders with pleasure when touched.
The explosion gradually settles into a cloud of fetid gas, large enough to fill the room. This cloud can never be dispersed, though it could be moved by a sufficiently powerful aircurrent.
All that remains is a cup, with a potion of Creative Dance in it. When consumed, the imbiber will be flooded with ideas for interesting new dances.
A wildly gesticulating hand flops about in the aftermath. If the hand is given a writing implement, it will immediately begin writing gibberish, and never stop so long as it is not restrained from continuing. There may or may not be hidden meaning in this gibberish.
A mysterious concoction has appeared, in a little jar labelled “Drink Me.” If it is consumed, and the imbiber has a dick, then their dick falls off. If the imbiber does not have a dick, then they grow a dick.
The Alchemist has invented American Cheese. Thanks a fucking lot, Alchemy bro. That’s something the world really needed.
A potion of Speed Reading has been created, allowing the imbiber to read at three times their normal rate.
From every jar and beaker, a cactus begins to grow, and it just wont…stop…growing…
A black monolith appears, harbenger both of growth, and of violence. Every creature present will be awakened to a new level of existence, and filled with an intense desire to use their newfound enlightenment to dominate those around them.
The alchemist has accidentally created a star, roughly the size of a marble. The heat from a star even this small is so intense that everthing in its viscinity burns.
The ghost of a woman who never lived is created. She is a crossing guard, and will attempt to let people know when it is safe to walk, and when it is not.
PARTY EXPLOSION! Confetti and streamers burst outwards from the failed concoction. Banners affix themselves to the walls, hats appear on heads, and dance music begins to pound as if from nowhere. It’s a celebration! Everyone must party. Not partying is impossible.
One of the vials is unbroken, and within is a potion of affection for the color green. Consuming it will make you mildly predisposed to like things that have a green color. Ironically, the potion itself is red.
A single decanter remains, with a bit of fluid inside of it. This is a potion of Temporarily Forgetting Your Own Name. The effects of this potion are entirely predictable.
A milky white goo has congealed into a crater in the ground. It is a tincture of racism. If consumed in any amount, randomly determine a race for the dumbass who consumed mysterious white goo to hate.
The mind-altering smoke is laced with tacheon particles. At some point in the past of everyone who inhales it, they will make a different decision during some pivotal moment in their life. This new choice in their past is still consistent with their character at the time, but it changes their present circumstance in some significant way. The referee may designate anyone they desire to identify this different choice. If the inhaler objects that it’s not something they ever would have done, the table must vote on whether or not it is consistent with their character. Majority rules.
There’s one beaker left, containing a potion of Speak to Mosquitos, duration 2 hours. Mosquitos are macabre, edgelord little shits.
The alchemist has accidentally discovered chocolate chip cookies. Bake sales will never be the same.
A spray of liquid paper splatters all across the room.
As the orange dust settles, it coats everything in the room with a strange kind of greasy powder, that tastes vaguely of cheese. The flavor is wholely unnatural, yet addictively compelling, and fills the consumer with an intense desire for something called “mountain dew,” whatever that is.
Only a single vat remains, now filled with a dull grey liquid. If gold is dipped into this vat, it will be transformed into lead.
In the center of the room is a massive heap of slimy, shower-drain hair.
A radioactive isotope has been created. It glows with a faint green light, and is quietly poisoning everyone in the room.
All that’s left is a 6 inch cube of an unbreakable, unmalleable, unmeltable, completely unknown metal.
A Potion of Melodrama has been created. Whomever consumes it will become suddenly melodramatic about every little thing that happens to them. There is no cure.
Tiny flecks of something too small to hurt pelt everyone in the room. Once it’s safe for people to open their eyes, they will discover they are surrounded by piles of clipped toe and fingernails.
The air grows cold, and the lights grow dim. Wherever you are, a long winter night has begun. Pray you do not die.
The room is splattered with a thick coat of the big mac’s secret sauce.
The explosion has birthed a potion leech. A creature which sustains itself by sucking potions and other magical effects out of people’s bodies.
A noise hole is opened to the future. Only sound passes through it. The other end of the hole is in the basement of a house in Miluakee, on April 7^th, 1974. Nobody is down there for most of the day, but at 3pm a man comes down to start a load of laundery, and at around 4, a woman comes down to move it into the dryer. Time on the other end of the sound hole loops each day.
Fart in a jar.
A mysterious concoction appears. It is a Potion of Annoying Laughter, which permanently alters the laugh of whoever consumes it. Anytime they are amused, they emit one of the most unpleasant, inhuman sounds that could ever be called a ‘laugh.’
It’s not just a normal alchemical failure explosion. It’s a really big alchemical failure explosion. All that’s left is a crater, with a 500’ radius. Mysteriously, no warm blooded creatures are harmed by the explosion. It just passes over them like a hot breeze.
The alchemical explosion expands outwards in slow motion. It is intensely hot and dangerous, but will take over 2 years to complete.
A massive portal to the south pole of the planet is torn open. The tear in space gets larger and larger, until it’s over 100’ long, with cold wind blasting through it. This dramatically changes the weather patterns in the local area, gradually causing a cataclysmic shift in the environment.
A 6’ high pile of human noses fills the room. Periodically, one of them sniffs loudly, as though trying to identify a smell.
Someone’s skin has appeared on the laboratory floor. There’s no seams, no tears, no blood, and absolutely nothing inside the skin. Somewhere in the world, someone’s skin has just disappeared, leaving them a screaming heap of exposed muscles and organs.
A mysterious voice whispers “thank you…” and fades away. It’s a completely sincere sentiment, and there’s no indication of what anyone has done to deserve being thanked.
All oxygent in the room vanishes, creating a vaccuum until some doors or windows are opened.
A small bit of ice. If this ice comes into contact with any water, it will rearrange the atomic structure of that water, freezing it instantly into ice.
An all-consuming moss has been created. Gods have mercy on you for what you’ve done.
There is an unbroken flask, containing a Potion of Static Shock. Whoever consumes it will generate a charge on their body, causing them to receive a static shock anytime they touch anything metal. The effect lasts for two weeks.
There’s one beaker left, containing a potion of Knowing Pi. The effect lasts for 10 minutes, and during this time the imbier knows every single digit of pi. Of course, they can only communicate so much of what they know in the 10 minutes they have before their knowledge fades.
The 9^th Roman Legion marches out of the smoke. It takes awhile for the whole group of them to emerge, and they won’t seem to notice they’ve been snatched out of the past until every one of them has arrived.
A tincture of Pleasant-Smelling Farts has been created. If consumed, a person never need worry again about the social awkwardness of releasing their poo-gas around other people.
A randomly determined 8^th level spell forces itself into the Alchemist’s brain. Unless the alchemist is already capable of casting 8^th level spells, this process is completely overwhelming, to the point of causing some damage to their brain. The spell must be cast immediately, or the more damage will be done. The playewr has no time to read the spell’s description, they must simply pick a target and go.
There’s a decanter embeded in the wall, filled with a strange glowing liquid. It is a potion of paraplegia. When consumed, it causes a person to temporarily lose all motor function beneath the neck.
A portal is created to the bottom of a nearby lake. Water pours through the portal until the lake is drained.
A pair of stone tablets have appeared, with Holy Commandments eleven through twenty inscribed on them.
A Tincture of Tolerance has been created. Nothing really bothers the one who consumes it. I mean, they may not like something, but they’re not going to make a fuss about it or anything.
A tear in the cosmic fabric appears, and a bloodshot eye looks through it. The eye presses itself up against the tear, and looks around the room with a hateful gaze.
An army of hopping legs is created, and they begin boopin’ and boppin’ all about the place.
There’s one beaker left amidst the shattered glass of the alchemical equipment. It contains a black liquid which, if consumed, proves to be a Potion of Emo Bullshit. The imbiber is uncontrollably compelled to act like a sad, upper middle class teenager from the mid 2000s. The curse lasts for about 5 years, or until strong magics are used to break it.
Amelia Airhart appears, torn away from the future and dropped, annoyed, into the destroyed alchemical lab.
All metal in the area instantly heats into a molten state.
A Potion of Ranting About Half-Baked Political Nonsense is created.
A strange, haunting music begins to play, growing gradually louder until people have to cover their ears. The music will never go away. It will continue to play here for all time.
Everyone impacted by the blast feels a surge of artistic inspiration. They are compelled to go out and create something.
A vial rolls out from the center of the blast, containing a Potion of Obsession with Dumb Jokes.
A powerful creature is summoned from the outer planes. Randomly determine whether it is an angel, a demon, a devil, or some otherworldly horror beyond human reckoning. In any event, it will not be happy to have been pulled from wherever it was before.
A conduit is opened for speaking directly to God. Turns out, though, God is kind of a loser nerd.
The sound of crying echoes from nowhere in particular.
A cup slides out from the smoke, containing a potion of Body Part Shrinkage. Randomly determine which body part shrinks when the potion is consumed.
A cup slides out from the smoke, containing a potion of Body Part Gigantism. Randomly determine which body part enlarges when the potion is consumed.
A geyser of beer erupts from the earth. It’s a pretty decent brew.
Instead of a “boom,” the explosion sounds like a sentence. A profound, cosmic truth, bellowed into our world. Something no one ever would have thought of. And yet, now that they’ve heard it, they wonder how they’ve lived so long without realizing its obvious truth.
A bitter, hateful voice worms its way into the heads of everyone in the room. It will criticize and question everything they say and do until it is somehow expelled.
A shark appears, flopping on the ground, suffocating and dying.
A fat little writer goblin named Nyc is born. He is terrible.
Suddenly, everyone in the room is wearing these really cool, matching leather vests. They’ve got studded eppaulets and everything.
A vial flies out of the explosion, and lands right in the alchemist’s hands. It contains a Potion of Alopecia. Drinking it will cause the imbiber’s body to become completely, and permanently, devoid of any hair.
A tiny war cry is squaked into the room, as an eight inch tall Klingon charges out of the smoke, Bat’leth swinging above his head.
Tongues begin growing out of the floor, walls, and ceiling, waggling about and trying to taste anything within reach.
An intense interest in an obscure, ancient sport begins radiating out from this spot. Anyone who comes within a mile will have heard of the sport, and be interested in learning the rules. People closer to the source, or who spend an extended period of time in the area, will become obsessed with playing the game, building a playing field, and eventually getting a league going.
The fingernails of everyone in the room begin to grow out of control.
A potion is created which, when consumed, causes the imbiber to lose control of their bowels.
A permanent door is created, which leads to some other part of the world within a few miles of here.
Everyone in the room is instantaneously teleported to a chamber deep underground. How far they have gone, and how deep they are, is unknown.
Tails grow outta errybody’s butts.
The alchemist suddenly finds they have a passion for styling people’s hair. It’s now much more interesting to them than Alchemy is.
A constant spray of lubricating gel starts spraying all around the room.
A creature that resembles OSR luminary Cecil Howe appears, except he sweats a lot, cannot stop farting, and nobody will ever ever want to kiss him.

Free PDF: Mice with Legitimate Grievances

I made a three page dungeon for you all. It’s about how roof damage caused by an onioneer’s hubris can lead to violent misunderstandings with other species.

You’ll like it.

Download “Mice with Legitimate Grievances”

^ That’s the link. ^

Now go play some D&D my friends.