“Better Than Any Man” is better than the best adventure module I’ve ever read. It transcends that paltry distinction, because when I was done reading it I had gained more than knowledge of a cool adventure. My views on tabletop games had shifted. The bar for monsters, and art, and adventures was set higher. I knew, before placing my big ol’ Lamentations of the Flame Princess order, that nothing I read would top it.
“Fuck for Satan” isn’t “Better Than Any Man.” In fact, if I’d read FFS first, rather than BTAM, I probably would have stopped reading halfway through and given up on Lamentations of the Flame Princess altogether. In Raggi’s own words, this is a “screw-you dungeon.” There are numerous occasions when even I–having read the adventure in full–have no idea how I would survive if I were a player. I’m all in favor of punishingly difficult, but FFS is sadistic. I can only imagine there are players out there who are either significantly more skilled, or significantly more amused by cheap deaths, than I am.
That being said, the book is hardly without value. In fact, it’s chock full of amazing ideas. “The Twinkling Star” in particular is so fucking phenomenal that I literally called my buddy on the phone so I could read that section of the book to him. And when my girlfriend got home, I read it to her. I had never given serious consideration before to the positive potential of meta gaming. The idea that the players have leverage over the GM is gods damned delightful. You can be sure my players will encounter something similar to Twinkly sometime soon.
Come to think of it, anything surrounding the dungeon is fantastic. The generic setup leading to a humorously unrewarding payoff; the hilarious, and needlessly long old man rant which you’ll never actually use in the game; Twinkly; the titular fucking in the name of Satan, performed by well meaning, brain-addled twits; and the giant walking penis creature who just wants to go home. These elements make me want to run the adventure. But these elements make up less than half of the module.
The bulk of the module is a dungeon which I do not think I could survive. If I was being careful to the point of draining all of the fun from the game, I think I’d still die. If the GM let me read the adventure before running the dungeon, I think there’s still a pretty fair chance I would die.
That doesn’t mean there isn’t good stuff in the dungeon too, though. There’s a monster living inside of a book called the Half-Realized Poorly Conceived Terror which I’ll definitely use at some point. And “The Eye and the Basin” is super cool–though perhaps a little harsh. Part of me thinks it would work fine if players were only required to cut off a finger to solve the puzzle. But another part of me really likes how it’s written, with players needing to kill and gut a hireling (or fellow PC) and sacrifice their heart. The Luck Sucker is also ballin’.
Final verdict: read Better than Any Man. If you like that, then maybe consider Fuck for Satan. There’s a lot to like here, and even if you never run it, you’ll enjoy reading it. Whatever other flaws it might have, I couldn’t put it down until I had read it all the way through.
Oh, and P.S., Jri-Khan is a cool dude. I might make him a recurring NPC in one of my game worlds.
So with Pathfinder and I no longer an ‘item,’ I’m on the market again. I don’t think I’ll ever make the same kind of commitment to another system. But then, nobody ever anticipates the day that special game comes along, do they? And as it happens, I’ve had my eye on Lamentations of the Flame Princess for awhile.
I actually don’t recall when LotFP first came on my radar, but my first distinct memory of the game is the fear in my fellow adventurer’s eyes when our GM announced that we was running “A Raggi module.” (as in a module written by James Raggi, creator of LotFP). It took me a few months to get around to purchasing the game, and when I got it in hand I was immediately impressed with it, before even reading a word. Multiple books, printed character sheets, and a full set of dice were included in my $35 Grindhouse edition of the game. What’s more, the art is gloriously imaginative, provocative, and NSFW. I don’t think I ever realized how much the tame-ness of most RPG sourcebooks bothered me until I found this book which was actually willing to engage with me as an adult. To depict all of the violence I so gleefully describe to my players.
Upon reading the books, I was profoundly disappointed. Not because the books were bad, but because I saw many of my own ostensibly unique ideas had already been published by someone who managed to come up with them before I did. I thought I was going to be so very clever someday when I released a game system, and the GM’s Guide was largely just a collection of essays on GMing, rather than a collection of charts and numbers of limited usefulness. I thought my system would be so much easier to understand with expansive examples of play–though even I wouldn’t have been so bold as to fill an entire book with them!
I don’t love everything about LotFP, of course. The magic research / magic item creation systems seem to be more trouble than they’re worth. Some spells are so dangerous to use that I don’t know if I’d ever be willing to cast them. The idea that only fighter’s advance in combat ability has a certain appeal, but I worry about how it will affect play as adventurers start to reach mid level. And call it a nitpick, but I’ve never liked games which measure movement in feet. My ability to perceive distance is not good, so saying a character has a movement of 120′ means nothing to me.
But for every con, I could list a half dozen pros. And two pros in particular make this game worth it all on their own. First, the rules work. And second, these are among the most lightweight rules I’ve ever seen. More lightweight than any of the other old school games I’ve encountered. And that’s good, because it gives me so much more room to tinker and expand on my own, which is what I love to do anyway.
I’m a little late mentioning it, but fellow Blogger Courtney of Hack & Slash recently released a book titled “On the Non-Player Character – Solving the Social Trap,” available both in print and pdf form. I’m going to try to convince you to buy it, because I think it’s more than worth the money it costs. However, in the interests of full disclosure, Courtney is both a friend of mine, and someone I admire as a game designer of superior skill. I don’t expect you to take me at my word that you should buy this book. So in order to convince you, I want to show you something.
This is a photograph of the game shelf above my desk. I keep these books within arms reach of the place where I do 90% of my work. It’s a bit of a mixed bag up there. A few of these books are up there because I want to get around to reading them soon. Most of them, though, are books which I’ve read, liked, and continue to use. But I don’t really need any of them. My game mastering skills are in my head, and my campaigns are in my notes. These books are helpful, but if you took them away from me, I don’t think my players would really notice a degradation in the quality of my games.
This photograph, aside from exposing what a cluttered junk heap my home is, shows the game shelves in my back room. There’s some miscellaneous fiction in there, but you can see binders containing notes and printed blog posts, various sourcebooks, more D&D 3.x material than I think I could even lift all at once, and several large boxes of Dungeon and Dragon magazines stacked on the floor. These are books I’ve gone through and used in the past. Some of them are not great, but there’s some real gems in there! Books which have inspired me, articles which have given me house rules to work from. These books hold a lot of meaning for me, and I still return to them from time to time to search for new ideas. But again, if you took them away my games probably wouldn’t suffer.
This last picture is of all the books which humble me. The books which never caused me to think “I could have written that better.” Which isn’t a disparagement on those books I did think I could write better. We all have that arrogant little voice inside of us which thinks we’re better than successful people. It’s that little arrogance which emboldens us to try to be successful ourselves. But these books are are so good they make me question whether I’ll ever produce anything good enough to sit next to them on a shelf.
“On the Non-Player Character” is divided roughly between methods for interacting with NPCs, and methods for creating NPCs.
The NPC interaction system is, as I described it to a friend, “such a huge leap forward that I feel as though every other crude attempt I’ve seen at NPC interaction doesn’t even count anymore. Skill checks for Diplomacy/Intimidate/Bluff/Sense Motive seem archaic by comparison.” Described simply, Courtney created a short list of <20 possible interactions with an NPC, which nearly any interaction can fit into. When the players say or do something to an NPC, the GM merely needs to determine which category of interaction it best fits into, make some simple rolls, and produce an impartial, interesting result. (There’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s what I would call the core mechanic.)
The NPC creation system, while nowhere near as revolutionary, is none the less a big step forward from anything I’ve encountered before. It focuses on being a tool for the GM’s own imagination, rather than being a tool for creating something mechanical and then relying on the GM’s imagination to give it life. I don’t know about other GMs, but I consider myself quite good at improvisation, and my imagination has limits to the number of unique characters I can come up with on my own!
I feel as though there’s no way to read my fawning praise of this book without believing it is hyperbole. But I mean what I say. And while it’s almost a certainty that some blogger or obscure game supplement has produced a really great system for handling NPCs–one which is better than any I’d heard of before I read this book–I honestly don’t think anything quite this good exists anywhere else. Because if it did, by rights, it would be on every GM’s must-own list. As this book should be.
If I were to offer one criticism of this book, it would be one which Courtney has pointed out himself. His writing is not always the most clear, because he tends to pack information very densely. I had to read page 24 no less than three times before I understood what it was about. And once I understood it, I realized I probably would have used 3-4 pages to explain the same concept. Personally I prefer my way of doing things, but stylistic differences are really just a nitpick on a nearly perfect game tool.
Page 24 has some really cool ideas on it, actually. You should check it out when you buy the book.
Book cover of “At the Queen’s Command” by Michael A. Stackpole.
Full disclosure: Mike Stackpole is a personal hero of mine. As a writer, as an independent thinker, and as a righteous dude. I’ve read and loved his books since I was a young child, so I’ll readily confess that I’m more than a little biased in assessing the quality of his work. None the less, I think this book might be of interest to my readership, so I wanted to share my thoughts with you.
I first picked “At the Queen’s Command” quite some time ago, back when Boarders was going out of business and selling off old stock for a fraction of its value. Its taken me this long to pick it up because I’m disinclined towards early colonial history. Ball and powder muskets bore me, and the rules used to engage in combat turned actual war into “combat as sport.” Not to mention the uncomfortable reality that the slaughter of native peoples and the slave trade are intrinsically linked to many of the ‘heroes’ of that period.
However, this world is entirely fictional. Though obviously based on the history surrounding the American revolutionary war, the names and circumstances have been altered. “Mystria” stands in for America, “Norisle” for England, “Tharyngia” for France, and “Altashee” for native peoples. This approach allows the book to go beyond the constraints of typical historical fiction or alternative history, into complete historical fantasy. A history where proto-draconic wurms are the pets of nobility and the mounts of the most prestigious cavalry. In this world magic is commonplace, but weak and of extremely limited use, requiring technology (such as the “firestones” in guns) to make it effective. It also allows for the oppression of the natives to be approached without historical baggage, and for slavery to be omitted entirely. The relationship Stackpole’s world has to the real one isn’t so different from the relationship Middle Earth or Westros has to medieval England. The parallels are just a little stronger in this instance.
In keeping with the low-magical tone of the setting, the real life wonders of the new world often dwarf those elements of the story which are actually fantastic. When wurms are introduced, they are treated as commonplace. The characters not only know they exist, but also have experience being around and handling them. Then there’s this passage, which is among my favorite in the book:
“There, thirty yards away, a massive beast on long legs emerged from the brush and onto a small sandbar jutting into the river. Brown in color save for its long, buff muzzle, its head was crowned with a huge rack of thick antlers. Its stubby tail and brown ears flicked about. The creature surveyeed the riverside, then cropped some of the grasses growing at the river’s edge.
“Owen lowered the pistol and released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. At that range he couldn’t have hit the beast. No matter. Such was its size that a single lead ball wouldn’t bring it down. Even a jeopard might think twice.
“The monster looked in his direction for a moment, then ambled back into the river and swam across the deep center channel. Once it had its feet under it again, the creature strolled toward the far shore, nibbling as it went. It never cast a glance back.”
Later, Owen is informed that what he saw was a moose.
But while a good setting (which this is) is important for a fantasy piece, the characters and narrative are what make a book worth reading. Here is where “At the Queen’s Command” really excels. The author gives us characters we can easily fall in love with; a duty-bound soldier who wants to do the right thing, an excitable and passionate natural philosopher, a skilled frontiersman who doesn’t have much use for society, and a native who cares for his friends, but is wary of the danger their people pose to his. He also gives us characters which twisted my gut with fear or tightened my teeth with hatred. I normally have trouble remembering character’s names, but the people inhabiting this world were so real to me that I don’t think there’s a name I’ve forgotten. Even the farmer in Hattesburg who shows up all of three times; his name was Seth.
The book’s narrative is often slow, but never plodding. It does not rush towards action and adventure, but rather takes its time to luxuriously peruse the locals and characters you encounter. Stackpole takes his time, without ever allowing a scene to feel excessive. And when action does occur, I found it that much more exciting. There were times when I was moving my eyes across words as fast as I possibly could because I was frantic to discover what happened next. That’s a very special level of engagement which I wish I experienced more often!
“Compelling” would be the TL;DR version of my thoughts. If you’d go so far as to grant me another word, I think I would go with “Fucking Compelling.“
I’m currently reading the book’s sequel, “Of Limited Loyalty,” and it’s no less impressive. It is tragic that the series’ third installment is in jeopardy due to issues with the publisher.
I’m generally a pretty slow reader, but I’ve been using every spare moment for the last day racing through these glorious tomes. I don’t have a ton of experience with oldschool modules, but I’ve certainly found them a lot more engaging than many modern modules I’ve read. And I’m really, immensely disappointed that I don’t have any players who are anywhere near ready to run through them. My D&D&LB players are just starting to reach level 2 (lowest recommended level for these is 8). My ToKiMo players–while closer to the appropriate level–have not been playing with the level of high-mortality that these modules demand.
Surprisingly though, my player’s level of experience is my only real concern with running these modules for a Pathfinder group. The work of modifying the adventures for a modern game is really no work at all. I had once thought, based on my experience with modules for rules heavy systems like D&D 3.5 or Pathfinder, that converting a module to a new system would be difficult. But in these adventures there are so few rules or stat blocks that there’s hardly anything to change.
Take, for example, the first of the seven modules: Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, which I purchased as part of the compilation “Against the Giants.” Along with two maps (one of the interior of the Hill Giant Stead, and one of the dungeon below it), there are 7 pages of adventure information and room descriptions, broken up by art. Based on my experience running oldschool style dungeon-crawls in Pathfinder, the content in these 7 measly pages could last for at least 2 game sessions, if not 3 or 4.
Only occasionally are game rules even mentioned, and in those instances it would be the work of mere moments to update them appropriately. For example, in room 17A of the dungeon level, part of the description includes this passage:
Behind this altar is a flight of low, uneven steps which lead to an alcove with a concave back wall of purplish-black, glassy appearing substance. If any creature stands before this wall and gazes upon it for one round, a writhing amorphous form of sickly mauves and violets will be seen stretching its formless members towards the viewer. The sight causes the creature seeing it to have a 50% chance of becoming insane.”
Now, if you want, you could just play that as written. The mechanics are explained in their entirety right there on the page: a 50% chance. If you’d rather make the module consistent with Pathfinder, though, it only takes a second. 50% chance is pretty damned high, so I’d say Will Save, DC: 18.
There are no NPC stat blocks in this module, so no real work to do there. Although there are two captive NPCs in the dungeon (an elf and a dwarf) who may join the party if rescued. But since no character sheets for those characters are included anyway, it seems that even the DMs of 1978 were expected to make their own character sheets for these characters. Surely we can take a moment to do the same, right?
All of the monsters in the module are standard. At the time players were meant to look them up in the AD&D Monster Manual, and as luck would have it, all of the monsters are still around in the Pathfinder Bestiary. Watch, I’ll even do all the work for you, in order of introduction:
Orc, Page 222
Hill Giant, Page 150
Ogre, Page 220
Cloud Giant, Page 147
Stone Giant, Page 151
Cave Bear, Page 31
Dire Wolf, Page 278
Bugbear, Page 38
Trogdolyte, Page 267
Giant Lizard, Page 194
Carrion Crawler…okay this one isn’t in there. Most likely copyrighted by Wizards. But if you play Pathfinder, you’ve probably got a 3.5 Monster Manual handy. It’s on Page 30 of that book.
Manticore, Page 199
Bam. I just updated the module for you.
Of course, there are a lot of AD&D anachronisms which you’ll need to deal with. Instead of “2d6 damage,” you’ll see things like “2-12 damage.” But that’s not difficult to figure out. There are also a few instances when one monster fights “as another monster,” but that’s not difficult either. When the module says that Hill Giants fight “as ogres,” it just means that you should use the Ogre stat block for these Hill Giants, because they’re not big badasses yet. Easy peasy.
I highly recommend these modules to Pathfinder players who enjoy dungeon crawling. They’re cheap, solidly designed, and will be a very different experience from the Pathfinder modules you may be used to.
This is the eighth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Saving Throw Matrix for Monsters” on page 79, and continues through “Gaining Experience Levels” on page 86. It’s been several months since the previous installment of this series, so I will reiterate: my purpose is not to review the DMG. It would be arrogant of me to think I could make a meaningful assessment of this book’s quality. I am merely going 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.
Saving Throws: Ultimately there’s not a lot of new or surprising information in this section. It merely details why the saving throw exists, explains how it functions in the game world, and provides advice on how the GM should implement saving throws within the game. This section highlights something I’ve found I really love about Gygax’s style of writing. The way he communicates the game’s rules. In Pathfinder, the saving throw mechanic receives only a few paragraphs on page 180, which barely cover the mechanical necessities of how a saving throw functions, along with a brief description of what each of Pathfinder’s three saving throws are used for.
Here, Gygax devotes perhaps three or four times the amount of space that Paizo allotted to describe the concept of a saving throw. He addresses criticisms of the concept, and explains exactly what a saving throw means within game terms. This is a huge criticism I have of D&D 3.X. Not enough attention is given to educating the GM, and teaching them to think diagetically about their game. Instead, 3.X stressed what is commonly called “System Mastery” – a comprehensive knowledge of the rules. While in fact, I think understanding the spirit of the game is far more important to being a good game master.
Hit Points: This section strikes me as a little strange, since much of it just retreads information which appeared earlier in the DMG. However, I like that Gary addresses this issue:
It is quite unreasonable to assume that as a character gains levels of ability in his or her class that a corresponding gain in actual ability to sustain physical damage takes place. It is preposterous to state such an assumption, for if we are to assume that a man is killed by a sword thrust which does 4 hit points of damage, we must similarly assume that a hero could, on average, withstand five such thrusts before being slain! Why then the increase in hit points?
That discussion could easily have been moved earlier in the book, and saved some space. But I’m none the less happy he acknowledged this.
Effects of Alcohol and Drugs: I had one takeaway from this section: get your hirelings drunk. Sure they’ll take penalties to their ability scores and attack dice, but bonuses to hit points, bravery, and morale are worth it. It makes perfect sense, and I can’t believe I never considered it before. It’s particularly effective if you just get hour hirelings buzzed without letting them get drunk, because they won’t take penalties on anything you care about. Who actually wants hirelings with high wisdom in the first place?!
I’d be curious to learn if this has any historical support, like generals giving their men a round of beer before a battle. I’m sure that’s happened a few times, but was it effective?
Insanity: These are respectably game-able, but they’re not particularly inspired. None the less, it’s good that they’re included, and it’s good that they’re grounded in reality rather than being completely fantastical. I much prefer the type of fantasy world where characters suffer from Melancholia, rather than something ridiculous like “Devilbrain.”
Division of Experience Points: I was very interested to read that 1st edition AD&D actually had a primitive, clunky version of the “Challenge Rating” system found in D&D 3.x, and perfected in Pathfinder. The amount of math involved in this process is ridiculous. I don’t see how anyone could compare it favorably to challenge ratings as seen in Pathfinder, or even as seen in 3rd edition. Personally I’m not fond of any of these, as they all complicate the process of converting player achievement into experience rewards. None the less, Pathfinder is far superior in this regard.
Experience Value of Treasure Taken: Holy shit this is way too complicated. I am glad that people I know who base experience gain off of treasure stick with a simple 1gp = 1xp model. This rule would suggest that a 1 to 1 exchange should only be used if the treasure was appropriately difficult for the adventurers to recover. If the treasure is too easy to get, Gygax recommends “5 g.p. to 4 x.p., 3 to 2, 2 to 1, 3 to 1, or even 4 or more to 1.”
On a single dungeon run, players are likely to acquire gold from numerous sources, each of which may be more or less difficult for them. Using this methodology, the GM would need to note each acquisition of treasure separately, and the ‘exchange rate’ beside it. Combined with the ridiculously complex rules for calculating experience points from monsters, and you almost need to hire an accountant to ensure you’re awarding XP properly!
Special Bonus Award to Experience Points: This started out sounding very reasonable . Of course if you’re running a mid or high level game you’re going to want to give your low level players some way to catch up to their higher leveled counterparts. I never really expected Gygax to recommend XP for dying and being resurrected, though. That strikes me as extremely odd. Particularly considering that resurrection most commonly comes with an XP penalty.
Gaining Experience Levels: It seems as though I’m finding a lot to dislike today, and I’m afraid this is no exception. Here, Gygax suggests that the GM should monitor their player’s role playing, and grade them based on whether or not they stuck to their alignment, and acted in keeping with their character class. I find this strange. Stranger still is the idea that gaining new levels is not something which a character is entitled to upon gaining sufficient experience. Rather, it is suggested that characters gain new levels at the GM’s discretion, and that they should be made to wait an appropriate amount of time (based on their role playing ‘grade,’) before they are allowed to move up.
Sometimes, Gary, I just don’t know what to think.
Favorite Quotes from this Section
“These adventures become the twice-told tales and legends of the campaing. The fame (or infamy) of certain characters gives lustre to the campaign and enjoyment to player and DM alike as the parts grow and are entwined to become a fantastic history of a never-was world where all of us would wish to live if we could.” -Gygax, DMG, Page 80
It is ridiculous of me to sit here and pretend I can seriously write a piece about Dante’s divine comedy. I’m a second-rate blogger who writes about tabletop games; The Divine Comedy is one of the greatest classics of medieval European literature. It stands beside such epic poems as the Aeneid, or the Odessey and is no less remarkable than those masterworks. Even Dante’s own arrogance in proclaiming that his work stands next to Virgil and Homer’s does not diminish his achievement. It’s not pompous if you can back it up.
But I was recently asked not once, but three times by three different people, to write about the books which inspire me as a GM. As Brendan put it, my personal “Appendix N.” I’ve written extensively about the video games I am inspired by, such as the old Zelda, Dragon Warrior, and Final Fantasy games. If I’m being honest, this is probably because video games have had a more profound impact on my life than books have. I tend to read slowly, and I’m not as widely read as I feel I ought to be. I can fit in with the lit nerds when I want to. They accept me as one of them, but I have to say “Ya know, I haven’t actually read that one yet!” a lot.
But the Divine Comedy, and Inferno specifically? I’ve read the shit out of that. It has been a never ending font of inspiration to me since I first picked it up for a medieval literature class back in 2008*†. Dante’s description of Hell represents the most vicious and memorably fantasy I’ve ever experienced. And one which is remarkably simple to read for a piece written 695 years ago. Though, if you’re not an expert on 14th century Florentine politics, it helps to have a version with copious footnotes.
As most everyone knows, the story gave us our now-commonplace vision of a hell. It shows us a land of descending circles where punishments are ironically tailored to progressively more grievous sins. Dante himself is the story’s protagonist, who becomes lost while on a stroll, and finds himself on a road which can only lead through hell itself. He is accompanied on his journey by his literary forebear Virgil. There’s a hilariously self-indulgent scene where Virgil introduces Dante to the other great poets of history, and they accept him as one of them. Seriously. The bulk of the story is a collection of interviews as Dante meets hell’s sufferers, and speaks with them about their punishments. Some are figures from Greco-Roman mythology, while others are Dante’s personal enemies, or those of his family. A few are even friends Dante, and there are numerous popes found in hell’s lowest reaches, including one who was still alive at the time.
I don’t really care for the book’s morality, but that’s hardly surprising. I’m an atheist who grew up in a catholic household and made a conscious decisions to reject that system of beliefs. I think it’s pretty disgusting to assert that suicides, sodomites, and simonists need to be punished for all eternity. But I also believe that history ought to be judged within context. And just because I’m an atheist, doesn’t mean I feel the need to cut myself off from thousands of years of human art and culture, simply because it was inspired by philosophies I believe to be flawed. The forest of the suicides is one of the most beautifully haunting places I’ve ever seen in fiction. So much so that it featured predominantly in a game where my players chose to travel to the Abyss. (Though I did edit the purpose for the tree’s existence).
I think part of what makes the poem such a perfect source for inspiration is its breakneck pace. The plot is just a vehicle for describing the various environments and torments of hell. First Dante encounters “the Neutrals,” who were too cowardly to choose between good or evil in their lives. He describes them almost like zombies, “the woeful people who have lost the good of the intellect.” But Dante has barely finished speaking of them when Virgil ushers him forward.
He replied: ‘I will tell thee in a few words. They have no hope of death, and so abject is their blind life that they are envious of every other lot. The world suffers no report of them to live. Pity and justice despise them. Let us not talk of them; but look thou and pass.’
And I looked and saw a whirling banner which ran so fast that it seemed as if it could never make a stand, and behind it came so long a train of people that I should never have believed death had undone so many. After I recognized some of them I knew the shade of him who from cowardice made the great refusal, and at once and with certainty I perceived that this was the worthless crew that is hateful to God and to His enemies. Those wretches, who were never alive, were naked and sorely stung by hornets and wasps that were there; these made their faces stream with blood, which mingled with their tears and was gathered at their feet by loathsome worms.
And then, directing my sight farther on…”
That’s it. Dante glances over to see an impossibly huge group of people running along the shore chasing a banner (which, as I understand, represents self interest) and being tormented by hornets, wasps, and worms. Then he glances back to the path ahead of him, and moves on to the next terrifying sight. (Which, in this case, is actually just some people waiting by the shore, but you get the point).
I highly, highly recommend this book to anyone looking for hellish inspiration. The density of information makes this relatively short epic more useful than many of the sourcebooks I’ve read. Plus, having read it allows you to pretend you’re significantly more educated than you actually are. If you are interested, I suggest you get the translation by John D Sinclair. Not only does it have those copious footnotes which are helpful for understanding the politics in the book, but each Canto is followed by an insightful analysis which helps in understanding the nearly 700 year old writing style.
Oh, and by the way, Gustave Doré made some absolutely beautiful fantasy art based on the Divine Comedy. That’s what I’ve been posting here, but there’s tons and tons more. Check it out if you like fantasy art!
* On that note, every class I took with Professor Nicholas Margaritis is a source of inspiration for me. I’ve had the privilege of studying under some remarkable individuals, but none of them affected me the way that man did. I felt as though I personally failed him when I didn’t finish a reading assignment on time, and the single A- he ever gave me remains one of the most profound compliments I’ve received in my entire life.
† That’s also the year which Dante’s exile from Florence was finally rescinded by the Florentine City Council. So, ya know, you’re welcome, Dante.
I have a great love for webcomics. As a kid, the first thing I can clearly remember wanting to be when I grew up was an artist and writer for comic books. I even produced a 9 issue run of my very own super hero, “The Black Skull,” as well as first issues for “The Hunter,” and “The Brain.” In retrospect, I kinda had a thing for “The [Simple Noun]” as a naming convention. Though, come to think of it, two days ago I posted about a character named “The Ghost of the Uprising,” so maybe I shouldn’t talk about that tendency in the past tense.
When I was a teenager and a lovely young woman (whom I was very interested in at the time) introduced me to Megatokyo, I was intrigued. Mind you, this is back when Megatokyo was still good, but that’s beside the point. I became somewhat obsessed with webcomics. There was even a time when, I am not kidding, I had over 200 webcomics which I checked every single day. It was almost a religious ritual for me. These days I’ve scaled down to a measly 28. Several of those I still read draw their inspiration from tabletop role playing games.
Several of the big ones are on that list, Order of the Stick, Oglaf (NSFW), and Goblins are all fantastic. (For one reason or another, I never really got interested in Guilded Age). But I also read a couple which simply do not get the recognition they ought to. At least not yet. Which, finally, brings us to the point of this post:
This homage to Gary Gygax’s iconic megadungeon, and the characters who dared to delved into it, has been a favorite of mine for a few months now. It’s a collaboration between artist Mike Bridges, and writer Scott Casper. Though it is still relatively new as of this writing, with only 15 pages since March, the team have already demonstrated that they can produce impressive work together. I look forward to seeing how they represent Castle Greyhawk itself. A dungeon which I, unfortunately, have never had the opportunity to explore myself.
Bridges’ work is reminiscent of the art in the old core books. The style supports both serious, and goofy moments, which is important for a comic like this. Greyhawk is a setting with the potential to be grim and unforgiving, but the game itself is not always a serious one, and the art reflects that. It is nicely detailed as well, particularly in the backgrounds. You can tell that Bridges enjoys creating the comic’s rooms and forests. And the giant centipedes which recently made an appearance looked legitimately scary for a 1st level monster! I’ve also been somewhat surprised by how much I like the gray scale coloring. Normally I much prefer colored comics, but this style supports the story’s retro tone. The black and white feels as though it’s continuing the legacy of Darlene Pekul’s marvelous DMG illustrations.
Casper’s writing has a nice pacing as well. So far the story has moved at a leisurely stride, with the party forming and making their way towards the dungeon, taking some time to work on characterization along the way. But it never feels like the story is moving too slowly. The characters always have a goal and they’re always moving towards it. None of the three primary characters are really well developed yet, but we have enough information to get us interested in learning more. Tenser is a young inexperienced guy who’s down on his luck, and thinks adventuring might help him turn his life around. Cool, I want to hear more. Yrag is an old soldier with a lot of experience, and an altruistic spirit. He’s a little gruff, but willing to show a couple of honest kids how to survive their first adventure. I look forward to learning more about his past! My only real complaint in this area would be Ehlissa. So far the only motivation for her we’ve been shown is that she’s crushing on Tenser, which is kind of weak. I hope we get to see some deeper motivations from her as the comic moves forward.
Really you should just check the comic out for yourself. As I mentioned above: it’s only 15 pages as of this writing, which shouldn’t take you much time at all to read. I think you’ll enjoy it!
(Though, for some reason, they post their comics on blogger. What’s up with that nonsense?)
EDIT 1/22/13: I normally prefer not to edit a post once it has gone live. Particularly not such an old post as this. However, I still see a lot of people sharing this post and using it to help make the decision of whether or not they’d like to spend money on these books. As such, I think it’s important that I include some new information which I’ve become aware of.
Much of the iconic art in these books was not well preserved in the reprints. Almost all of it has been significantly darkened, often obscuring details. Some of it even has strange artifacts which were not present at all in the original prints.
(I would love to host those images here, but unfortunately I cannot find a means to contact the original uploader, and I’ve not intention of stealing his or her content. If anyone who knows the mysterious ways of Imgur would like to help me contact them, I would be appreciative.)
They’re finally here, the reprints of Gygax’s three original AD&D books. I received the email from my friendly local game store on Thursday, and drove up there yesterday to pick them up. And let me tell you: these books are nice. The covers look fantastic, with each looking unique and incorporating the original art, while still maintaining a thematic look between them. The covers are textured as well, with indentations on both the front and the back, corresponding to the darker patterns in the image above. I particularly like how the books have no bar codes or ISBD numbers on the exterior. Aside from a re-printing of the dark pattern on the front, there isn’t even anything printed on the backs. Very classy looking.
Each of the books came wrapped in plastic, and bound by a piece of paper with a faux-wax seal for the Gygax Memorial printed on them. As I’m sure most people are aware, a percentage of the profits from each book purchased will go to support the Gygax Memorial Fund, which seeks to build a statue of Gary in his hometown of Lake Geneva Wisconsin. These pieces of paper are also where the ISBN number and bar code can be found, on the back side. Again, very nice. They also use this area to list the books original publication date, and notes whether the book was originally published first, second, or third out of the three.
The spine of these books looks fantastic as well. I’m curious to know if the symbols used here have any meaning which I’m not aware of. Or maybe they’re just meant to look cool, I don’t know. The actual binding of the book is similar to more modern books, with the page glued together in small bunches. It would have been cool if they’d used the same super-sturdy binding methods used in the original 1970s books, but I’d be kind of surprised if there were even any printing houses left which offered that.
[EDIT: It looks as though I was wrong on this point. Brendan of Untimately has corrected me:]
The bindings on the reprints are section sewn, which is probably about the highest quality book binding available (though it depends how the sections are attached to the spine, and I can’t see that). If you flip to the center of the sections, you can see the stitches. The new books probably have better bindings than the first original printings, despite how well the originals have held up.
Now this is kind of cool, because it’s honestly pretty uncommon: gilded edges. I think the only other books I own with gilded edges on the pages are my copy of the christian bible, and my copy of Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It’s a little ostentatious, but I think it’s warranted given how historically important these books are, and how much love the community has for the man who wrote them.
I put a little too much light into this pictures, so you you could see the edges glisten.
And, of course, as with most books that have gilded edges, these books each have ribbon bookmarks. Curiously, though, each book’s ribbon has a different width. I’m not sure how to explain that, except to point out that the width of the ribbon seems to correspond with the thickness of the book.
I thought it would be nice to compare the reprints to the original editions, but unfortunately I only have the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, and have not yet gotten my hands on the original Player’s Handbook or Monster Manual. Still, one works with what one has, so here are the two DMGs, side by side. It’s at this point that I would like to give Wizards of the Coast my most profound thanks for not placing their logo anywhere on the outside of the reprinted books. They could have done so, and honestly I don’t think anyone could blame them if they did. They invested money in producing this product, and have every right to but their trademark on it. But they didn’t, and that demonstrates a respect which I find commendable.
Here’s the iconic title page of the DMG, with the original on the left and the reprint on the right. The newer book uses higher quality paper and printing, which is nice. Darlene Pekul’s Unicorn is rendered a little more darkly than in the original book, but it also appears more crisp on the page. I also notice that the original copyright information has been removed, and the legal information at the bottom has been expanded. Which, of course, makes logical sense.What doesn’t make sense to me is that on the following page, the foreword, they removed the caption at the bottom which explained the cover. Originally it read:
“Cover: The book cover painting shows an encounter between three adventurers and an efreet on the Elemental Plane of Fire. The fabled City of Brass can be seen floating over a flame-swept sea of oil.”
I suppose the thinking may have been that since the cover art was different, it was no longer appropriate to reference adventurers who were not depicted. But since the efreet was still there, it seems some mention is in order.
I wonder if, perhaps, the text for this book was taken from the original 1983 reprint. The one with different cover art, which Gygax ostensibly preferred.
On the Contents page, I notice that the printing seems to be a little more dense than in my original copy. The last entry on page 3 in my copy is “Aerial Travel,” while the reprint has two more lines after that, ending on “Waterborne Adventures.” You’ll probably need to open this image in a new tab if you want to read the text.
I flipped to the final pages to see if they matched up, and they’re actually quite different! I’m not terribly surprised that the Gencon advertisement was removed, but the information the two books end on is completely different! While the original ends with an Index page, the reprint ends with an appendix which appears to deal with henchmen and hirelings. I also notice that while my original copy ends on page 232, this reprint ends on page 240! Where did they add an extra eight pages?
I did some looking, and it appears there are two additional appendices listed on the Contents page: APPENDIX O: ENCUMBRANCE OF STANDARD ITEMS, and APPENDIX P: CREATING A PARTY ON THE SPUR OF THE MOMENT. Neither of these is included in my original copy of the book, but at this point I’m going to assume that they were added by Gygax himself to later printings. I don’t see why Wizards would add this stuff. However, those two sections don’t take up much room, and end on page 227. Following them are the glossary, afterword, and index, printed pretty much the same as they are in my original text.
But while the 1979 print of the book ends after the Index, Wizards has a splash-page notice about the Gygax memorial, followed by four pages of additional tables. I’m really kinda confused about their placement, here. If they were added in previous reprints of the book, then why did Wizards place their splash page 4 page before the end of the book? If they were NOT in previous printings of the book, then why did Wizards add them?
That weirdness aside, there’s a very nice touch at the end of the index where Wizards kindly printed the old TSR wizard logo.
All in all, these are easily worth the $100 I dropped on them, and I recommend that everyone who doesn’t own a copy of these books go out and do the same. Show your support for the Gygax memorial, and show Wizards of the Coast that there’s a market for a more traditional style of role playing game.
And now that I finally own a complete set of AD&D books, I suspect I’ll find excuses to use them. Hee hee hee…
This is the third installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Time” on page 37, and continues through Illusionist Spells on page 47.
Time What Gygax wrote here about time and how to keep track of it is fascinating and vital. So much so that I’ve already dedicated not one, but two posts to exploring it. I see no need to repeat myself here.
Day-to-Day Acquisition of Cleric Spells In D&D 3rd edition and Pathfinder, obtaining spells is a pretty straightforward procedure. Every morning the cleric prays for an hour, and all their spell slots are filled for the day. In 1st edition AD&D, as is often the case, there’s more to it than that. There is additional background, which seems to have been dropped from later editions because it complicates the game. And while there’s something to be said for cutting out unnecessary complications, I have been learning that many of Gygax’s original ‘fluff’ offers interesting adventure opportunities.
For a 1st edition cleric, only first and second level spells can be obtained through simple prayer. More advanced spells of third, fourth, and fifth level must be gained by beseeching one of your deity’s powerful servants each morning. To put it in terms I imagine many of my readers are familiar with, the cleric must communicate directly with an angel each morning in order to receive those spells. And for spells above fifth level, the cleric must communicate with their god directly. Not just once, but every morning.
The interesting thing about this is that if the cleric has acted against their god’s dictates within the last day, then they know they must face that god again the next morning when they ask for spells. And Gygax flat out says that for particularly serious transgressions, the cleric’s god may choose to simply obliterate the offending mortal.
Acquisition of Magic-User Spells Since I first learned that oldschool Magic Users learned their spells at random, I’ve been torn on the concept. On the one hand, I like selecting my spells carefully. It allows me to create effective strategies, and it meshes with my conception of wizards as magical scientists. On the other hand, I love randomization. Being given a random set of tools and needing to figure out a way to be effective with those tools is an intriguing challenge, and one I always enjoy. I look forward to playing some 1st edition once the WotC reprints come out, so I can make a more informed decision about which method of obtaining spells I prefer.
I have to say about this section, though, that Gygax seems a little overzealous about preventing players from obtaining spells too easily. I understand that easy access to spells can unbalance a game, by Gary literally says that if a player saves the life of an NPC who was already loyal to them (like a hirling) then that NPC will (at best) be willing to allow the PC to copy one spell from their spellbook in exchange for a spell and a minor magic item. The rules literally dictate that exchanges of spells should never be equitable for the player. This seems odd to me.
Spell Casting For those unaware, Dungeons & Dragons has always used something called Vancian Magic, named for Jack Vance, the author whose work the system was based upon. It’s also sometimes called “fire and forget,” because every morning a caster must memorize their spells, and once the spells are cast that memorization is wiped from their mind. In the editions of the game I’ve read, that’s about the extent of the information given. Here Gygax goes into greater detail. He explains that each spell is a combination of symbols and sounds which are charged with energy from one of the planes of existence. When combined into a certain formation, the energy of those planes is released in a limited fashion, causing a magical effect. Those symbols are then consumed by the magic which passes through them, not unlike a fire consumes fuel. Whether the symbols are on paper, or in the mind of a caster, they disappear.
Gygax writes nearly half a page on this topic, and recommends that for additional background, GMs read The Eyes of the Overworld, and The Dying Earth by Jack Vance. As well as The Face in the Frost by Bellair. Having not yet read these books myself, I cannot comment on them beyond Gygax’s recommendation.
Gygax also notes that while the words of a spell are typically used to bring the effect forth, and somatic (hand movement) components to the spell are used to “control and specify the direction, target, area, etc.” This brings to mind the interesting possibility of allowing casters to bring forth spells without somatic components–but in doing so they will have no control over how the effect manifests itself.
Spell Explanations Here begins a lengthy section where Gygax adds “DM’s Notes” for many of the spells present in AD&D. It doesn’t include spell descriptions, but most of the spells have self explanatory names, so I was able to follow along just fine. This section seems like a useful tool for the GM. It offers advice on how to adjudicate instances where players attempt to use spells in unusual ways which might end up being overpowered. For example, Gygax notes that casting the spell “light” upon one’s eyes does not grant a character “luminescent vision,” but rather blinds the character for the duration of the spell. Entries like this one make me wish GM notes for spells had been perpetuated through later editions of the game. It’s not only useful for determining how to handle a specific case, but it’s useful as a general guideline for how to handle players hoping to push the boundaries of what a spell can do.
On the other hand, I don’t see why “Blindness does not restore lost ocular organs” could not have been put in the spell description itself.
Aerial Servant I simply find this funny. Ever since I became interested in this hobby, I’ve heard from religious nutjobs that D&D teaches kids to cast “real spells,” and that players must learn incantations to the devil in order to succeed in the game. The notion is preposterous of course. Spell casting is normally handled simply by naming the spell and saying your character casts it. Players rarely have the spell’s description memorized, much less an incantation to go along with it.
None the less, the DMG says that players should be required to indicate which type of magic circle they’re using when they cast this spell. I laughed.
Favorite Quotes from this Section
“Once a cleric changes deities, he or she must thereafter be absolutely true to the new calling, or he or she will be snuffed out by some godlike means. It is 90% unlikely that the cleric’s first deity will accept him or her back into the fold after falling away, unless some special redemptive agency is involved. There is no salvation for a thrice-changed cleric; he or she is instantly killed.” -Gygax, DMG, page 39
“a hollow voice rings forth and commands: “GO FORTH FROM HERE AND RETURN NOT UNTIL YOU BRING CAPTIVE THE HIGH PRIEST OF OSIRIS AND ALL OF THE ALTAR SERVICE OF HIS TEMPLE AS SACRIFICES TO ME IN TOKEN OF THE SINCERITY OF YOUR TRUE REPENTANCE!” -Gygax, DMG, page 42
