Tag: My Games

Magical Marvels 5: The Glare of Vecna

This week’s artifact sacrificial dagger is again from my Ascendant Crusade campaign, much like the previous three artifacts Gravewhisper’s Claw, Wallcraft’s Offerings and Kofek’s Tongue. This weapon is again illustrated by my ladyfriend. You should check out more of her art on her DeviantArt page.

The Glare of Vecna
Artifact Sacrificial Dagger

PHYSICAL ATTACKS

(Blade)(Attack) -4
(Blade)(Damage) 1d4 (Piercing)(17-20/x4)

SPELLS GRANTED

At Will – Detect Good, cast by directing the blade towards the target and asking (rhetorically) “Do you seek to foil our lord?” The spell is a great deal more powerful when cast by the dagger, and overcomes any spell resistance the target may have. (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 267)

At Will – Eyebite, cast by directing the blade towards the target and telling them “The Whispered One’s ire be upon you!” The target receives of Fortitude save (DC 23) to negate. Failure results in the target becoming sickened, panicked, and/or comatose, depending on their HD. (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 280)

3/Day – Grim Revenge, cast by directing the blade towards the target, then pulling it a yanking motion. Fortitude save (DC 19) negates. This spell is found in the Book of Vile Darkness, Pg. 97. As this book is now out of print, the spell is replicated in its entirety below:

Grim Revenge
Necromancy [Evil]
Level: Sor/Wiz 4
Components: V, S, Undead
Casting Time: 1 action
Range: Medium (100ft + 10ft./level)
Target: One living humanoid
Duration: Instantaneous
Saving Throw: Fortitude negates
Spell Resistance: Yes
The hand of the subject tears itself away from one of his arms, leaving a bloody stump. This trauma deals 6d6 points of damage. Then the hand, animated and floating in the air, begins to attack the subject. The hand attacks as if it were a wight (See the Pathfinder Bestiary Pg. 276) in terms of its statistics, special attacks, and special qualities, except that it is considered Tiny and gains a +4 AC bonus and a +4 bonus on attack rolls. Their hand can be turned or rebuked as a wight. If the hand is defeated, only a regenerate spell can restore the victim to normal.

SPECIAL ABILITIES

  • Any priest or priestess of Vecna who wields this weapon may substitute it for a holy symbol.
  • Any coup de grâce delivered with this weapon results in an instant kill, no saving throw. Traditionally sacrificial blows are aimed at the heart, so that the barbs can latch on to the heart, and pull it from the victim’s chest.

APPEARANCE

The only thing about Vecna’s Glare which resembles a more common weapon is the hilt, wrapped in reddish brown leather with a silver pommel. The cross guard, which appears to be a hand sprouting from the weapon’s grip, appears realistic, and even feels like cold dead skin when touched. In the hand is gripped a large eye–about the size of a large orange. Large enough to fill the hand’s grip. Like the hand, this eye looks and feels organic, and even has veins which become more or less prominent if the eye becomes “irritated” by things like blood or dirt. Sprouting from the pupil of the eye, representing the eye’s line of vision, is an unusual blade. It has no edge, and comes to a point at the tip. It is less of a blade, and more of a spike. Along the shaft of the spike are a multitude of barbs angling back towards the hilt, so that once the blade is inserted, removing it will cause significant additional damage.

HISTORY

During his life, and his pre-deific undeath, Vecna crafted a number of remarkable weapons. The Sword of Kas is is only the most well known, and most powerful, of these artifacts. In fact, most of Vecna’s own lieutenants were eventually given a weapon forged by their dread emperor’s own hand. Vecna’s Glare is among those weapons created by the evil god, though in this case, the crafting was a great deal more round-a-bout.

Kas was not the only one of Vecna’s followers to betray him. He was merely the most successful traitor. Several decades before the fateful battle which destroyed Vecna’s corporeal body, another of his lieutenants betrayed him. The attempt was clumsy, and the clever lich easily saw through his minion’s attempts at nonchalance. By the time the fool was ready to spring his trap, Vecna had other followers–more loyal followers–in place to ensure the trap backfired on the traitor.

Vecna is known for many things. He is a renowned conqueror, he was a magic user without peer throughout the multiverse, and he is the original source of many powerful artifacts. With so much to be known for, it his great skill as a torturer has been largely forgotten. He kept his treasonous minion alive for weeks, forcing him to experience pain beyond the imagining of even the most depraved. The Whispered Lord could make a victim relive their most terrifying memories, sever limbs only to reattach them and sever them again, or even cast spells which would kill whomever the victim most loved, without even knowing himself who that person was. Needless to say, Vecna learned all he needed to know. And when he was finished, he reached into the traitor’s chest, and pulled out his heart.

Vecna cast a simple spell on the heart, causing it to remain alive, and continue beating indefinitely. He then gave it to Kas the Bloody Handed, and had his lieutenant deliver it to the king with which the traitor had conspired. It seemed that this king, of a kingdom which Vecna had not yet conquered, had thought his kingdom would be safer if Vecna was destroyed. When the king received it, he was filled with anger and fear, and threw the heart out of the window of his audience chamber, where it landed in a river. Two months later, when Vecna sat on the chained king’s throne and asked what he had done with the heart, the king answered. He was then forced to watch as his four daughters, three sons, and his queen, were all thrown out the same window, to land in the same river a few hundred feet below.

Centuries later, after the betrayal by Kas, and Vecna’s own ascention to the level of demigod, the high priestess of Vecna–a rank which is known as “The Heart” within the cult–prayed to her god. She asked that the Hidden Lord might bestow upon her a symbol to rally the cult behind. One which could be used to draw even more to Vecna’s ranks. Vecna answered her. He told her of the traitor, and of the discarded heart. He bade her follow the river which the heart had been cast into. Due to the spell which had caused it to live indefinitely, it would still exist. Recovering it would grant her the symbol she desired.

The priestess was confused by her god’s commands, but she did not question them. Alone she traveled to the castle where her god, centuries before, had murdered a king’s family before his eyes. To reach it she had to travel across an ocean, through a desert, and over three mountains. It took her a year to finally reach the castle. There she found the river, and she followed it. She moved carefully, checking thoroughly for any hint of the heart. Eventually, the river flowed into a cave. Once inside the cave, the priestess descended far into the earth in the pursuit of her god’s will. She faced many monsters which tested her strength, but she never once considered turning back. She lived off of fungi which grew on the stones, and on the meat of the beasts she fought.

Finally, after weeks beneath the earth, having now descended deep into the underdark itself, the priestess came upon a lake. At the center of the lake was a small island, and there slept a red dragon atop its hoard. She constructed a raft, and made her way tentatively across the lake. As she approached, the dragon raised its head, and watched her. Neither attempted to speak until the priestess had brought her raft to land upon the island.

“Give me a reason why I should not devour you, puny human.” the dragon boomed.

“I come to you with tribute, mighty Wyrm!” the priestess said, laying a handful of precious gems on the ground at her feet. “And seek only a single piece of your renowned wisdom in exchange.”

The dragon snarled, “I am no teller of secrets who can be bought with petty baubles!” it roared, even as it drew the gems into its treasure pile with one might claw. “You’ve earned yourself only the right to leave here alive. And be quick lest I change my mind!”

“I wish only to know, great king amongst dragons, if you have ever seen a beating heart pass through this river.” the priestess gambled, knowing the risk she was taking with her life.

This question seemed to pique the dragon’s curiosity. “Perhaps I have. Tell me first why you seek it.” The priestess told the dragon of the heart, its origins, and of her quest to retrieve it, though she was careful to mention only that her god had sent her. To mentioned the Whispered One’s name was frowned upon, but to mention it whilst revealing a secret would be blasphemy.

When her story was completed, the dragon laughed. Dragon’s laughter is a terrifying sound, and it is a credit to the priestess’ devotion that she did not flee on the spot. “I know this heart,” the dragon finally replied. “When I was but a whelpling, it came ashore on my island here. I ate it.”

The priestess nodded. “I see.” she said calmly, taking hold of her holy symbol so she could prepare a spell. The two battled for hours. The priestess was powerful, but a dragon is a foe none should take lightly, and the island lacked cover which she could use to defend herself against the dragon’s fiery breath. In the end, she was very nearly slain. The only thing which saved her was being tail swiped by the dragon hard enough to send her flying onto the treasure pile–right next to a magical spear. So when the dragon moved to swallow her, she dove the spear through the roof of its mouth, and deep into the dragon’s brain.

Her foe slain, the priestess found a sword within the treasure pile, and began to cut into the dragon. Her severe injuries made cutting through the dragon’s thick hide difficult, but eventually she was able to reach the dragon’s heart–nearly as large as she was herself. She sliced it open, and within was Vecna’s Glare, glowing with a purple-black aura of evil.

It took over a year to return home, but when she arrived and held the dagger aloft before the faithful, they cowered before its might. She knew that, now, worshipers would flock to the cult of Vecna in droves. How often did gods bless their priests with such a mighty artifact? She felt truly blessed to have Vecna’s favor.

That evening, The Heart lay down to sleep in her her own bed for the first time in over two years. And in the dead of night, the priestess who had been handling The Heart’s affairs in her absence took Vecna’s Glare, and murdered the high priestess with it.

Let none rest easy in Vecna’s favor.

Negune: The Nation of Regalia

The nation of Regalia is by far the largest of the five nations on the continent of Negune. Founded eight centuries ago by the legendary bard Horatiana The Beloved, Regalia is a benevolent monarchy, so named because Horatiana was fond of wordplay, but lacked any talent for it. Regalia controls the entire eastern coast of the continent, providing it with the easiest access to the only other known landmass, the continent of Kalimesh. Regalia also boarders every other nation on the continent, except Ribanko, which has become completely isolationist and refuses to engage with the other nations; and Stekett, which, despite not sharing a boarder with Negune, is still most easily reached from Regalia rather than any of the other nations. Given these two significant advantages, Regalia has become the center of culture and trade on the continent.

Regalia is comprised of seven provinces: Centralia, Volpan, Pyensal, Sextent, Shield Haven, Garvain, and Tonshire. One for each of the seven adventurers who united the peoples of Negune eight hundred years ago. Though the seven continents are not explicitly named for one of the companions, each of the seven capitol cities has a bronze statue of one of the heroes just inside the town gate, along with an inscribed plaque penned by Horatiana herself.

Government
Regalia is a monarchy guided by the traditions put forth by Queen Horatiana. Though no formal constitution has ever been drafted, in true Bardic style, Horatiana had every wall of the sprawling royal palace engraved with lessons she had learned, and her philosophies for leadership. These engravings do not legally bind the monarch. In fact, Monarchs often ignore certain engravings when they do not suit their needs or plans. However, the engravings are respected, and on three separate occasions, monarchs have been removed from power for violating the spirit of these philosophies. The wisest of Regalia’s monarchs, it is said, spend their lives strolling through the halls of the royal palace, carefully studying the engravings left by their ancient forbear. So respected is this wisdom, that it has been disseminated throughout the seven provinces, and “Take wisdom from the walls” has become a common saying among Regalians.

The current monarch, Queen Byethen, is particularly devoted to these teachings. In accordance with them, she has established a council of seven advisers–one from each of the provinces–which are drawn from the town mayors, and cycled out after one year to make room for a new adviser. She has also assembled a council of 33 scholars, wizards, clerics, soldiers, and government clerks whose primary duty is to argue with her. To “Play Asmodeus’ Advocate,” if you will. They may respond to her ideas only with argument, or silence. Though they have no power to overrule her, the walls discourage her from taking any action she cannot defend. Queen Byethen also spends one week of each year living and working in a random town within her kingdom, so that she might never forget the hardships her people face.

Something which the walls are most emphatic about, and which no ruler has yet ignored, deals with the royal succession, and the separation between the nation of Regalia, and the seven provinces which constitute it. At any given time, there must be seven potential successors to the throne. Each of these successors is made the ruler of one of the provinces. The monarch may replace a successor at any time, based on any criteria, or completely arbitrarily. However, so long as the successors have the confidence of the monarch, they should be allowed to rule their provinces as they see fit. When the monarch has died, or otherwise cedes the throne, whatever advisory councils they formed during their reign gathers, and selects one of the seven to take the crown of Regalia.

Economy
Regalia is a fantastically wealthy nation. In terms of resources, it has an ample amount of forested area, plentiful fishing, rich mining, and expansive farmland. Regalia is so rich in natural resources, that no necessary commodity needs to be imported from any other nation–though the provinces themselves do need to trade with one another. The surplus of resources has also made Regalia rich in the gold and platinum of other lands through trade. Regalia’s prosperity has reinforced the native legend that Negune was blessed by the gods to make it a place worthy of heroes. That legend has even spread across the sea, to Kalimesh.

Culture
Though the specific culture varies from province to province, a few common themes unite Regalian culture as a whole. Despite being governed by a monarchy, Regalia fosters a meritocratic culture. The nation’s wealth has allowed education and other opportunities to be offered to most of the people. At present, two of the seven provinces are ruled by people who were born on the lower rungs of society: one a farmer, the other a miller. And as province governors, these two will both be considered as potential monarchs when Byethen leaves power.

Colorful Characters 14: Moreven

My ladyfriend has contributed a number of pieces of artwork for my Magical Marvels posts, including Kofek’s Tongue, Wallcraft’s Offerings, and Gravewhisper’s Claw. Recently, she’s been working on a character portrait to commemorate the first character she ever played in one of my games: Moreven the sorceress. I’m so impressed by it that I wanted to post it here on Comma, Blank_, and since it’s Friday anyway, I thought I’d take a break from my series on the Weapons of the Ascendant Crusade to turn Moreven into a Colorful Character! The real Moreven was killed by orcs, but now you can include a clone of her in any game you choose! As always, you can see more of my ladyfriend’s art on her DeviantArt page.

Moreven was always something of a goof. During the simple education children in her town received, she frequently distracted from the lessons to make her classmates laugh–despite the punishment it earned her. As she grew older, she became somewhat notorious as a practical joker. If someone found themselves surprised and humiliated by an unforeseen happenstance, odds were good that they’d hear laughter and running feet right after it. Most of the town’s adults looked on her as a troublemaker–though one which they hoped would ultimately grow out of her propensity to make a nuisance of herself. Among her peers, however, Moreven was a queen. Though they sometimes fell before her pranks themselves, her peers none the less adored her for the entertainment she provided them, and for her part, Moreven reveled in their adulation.

When Moreven was 12, she found that she was beginning to develop some very peculiar abilities. Abilities which allowed her to bend or even break the laws of nature. Immediately she began using her newfound skills to mastermind even more elaborate pranks, and for a time this worked. But it didn’t take long for people to figure out that Moreven was doing things which shouldn’t be possible. Things which scared the people of the small rural town. Many of them, even her adoring fans, began to distance themselves from her, then to shun her. They whispered amongst themselves that she was haunted or possessed–whispers which only grew louder when she began to talk to a weasel she had found amongst the crops. Moreven retaliated against the townspeople’s whispers with more devious pranks. Pranks which started to skirt the line between harmless fun, and genuinely causing harm. Unsurprisingly, this only strengthened the growing opinion that Moreven was becoming unnatural, and unsafe. Things came to a head when one of the town elders demanded she keep away from his son. Moreven responded by magically knocking a ladder out from under him when he was repairing the roof of his home. She heard the wet cracking sound of his legs breaking as he hit the ground, and knew that she had gone too far. She fled the village then, at the age of 15, without bothering to even say goodbye to anyone.

For a while, Moreven managed to earn enough money for food by performing magic tricks in small towns. Her natural clownishness made her an excellent performer, and she found that she could recapture the adulation she had felt from her classmates when she used her powers to entertain, rather than to harm. But her simple magic tricks only kept a given village entertained for so long before she moved on–though rarely before tapping into her skills as a prankster to punish a heckler or two.

Eventually, Moreven met up with a troupe of halflings who made their living the same way. They offered to let her travel with them, and for a few months she did. Traveling with a group had its advantages. On her own, Moreven had been accosted by bandits several times, which was less of a problem in a larger group. And while the halfling jugglers, singers, and comedians were good, none were good enough to draw attention away from Moreven’s increasingly elaborate magical shows. On the face it was a good deal, but Moreven quickly became frustrated with the Halfling’s mannerisms. Though she craved the attention of admirers, Moreven was not a very sociable person, and found the constant friendly hounding of her traveling companions infuriating. They never seemed to want to stop jabbering on about nothing at all. Things came to a head when Moreven discovered that one of the halflings had been stealing from her purse whilst she was asleep. Swearing off ever working with halflings again, Moreven left the troupe in the same manner that she had left her village–though not before setting one of their carts on fire.

In the next town, Moreven was performing a show in a tavern when she was approached by a woman with horns and a tail, who asked if she would be interested in working together to solve the town’s bandit problem. Morrie had never thought of applying her now well-developed sorceress’ abilities to adventuring, but the woman assured Moreven that she was one of the most talented young spellcasters around. Moreven had come to love her life of performing, but realized she would never make enough to pay for more than food and a room before needing to move on to another town. Adventuring would give her an opportunity to make some real money. And besides–nothing was stopping her from performing in the towns they visited.

Moreven quickly showed an aptitude for the life of an adventurer. There was gold to be had, and she wanted a piece of it. Moreven and her band were very successful, and when they heard rumors of a secret cathedral to an evil god which was filled with unbelievable treasures, they set out looking for it immediately. It took some doing, but they eventually found the cathedral buried in a cliff side, managed to sneak in, but what they found was not gold and gems. What they found was a necromatic hellhouse. They saw people held in cages, fed to undead monsters to make them strong, necromancers sewing bits of corpses together to create unholy abominations, and numerous other horrors which should not be spoken of.

Moreven was disgusted by the blatant display of evil before her. Egging her compatriots on, the party descended on the cultists, and sent them to their dark god. Once the grisly work was done, there was little treasure to be found, though the freed prisoners managed to pool a few dozen gold pieces in thanks. What Moreven was able to find was a clue to the location of another cathedral, and she insisted that the party investigate. They did, and found the location to be much the same, in both the level of evil, and the level of treasure. The party wanted to move on to more profitable ventures, but Moreven pushed them to continue hunting the undead and the necromancers who create them.

For a time, the party humored her. She was a valuable sorcerer, and surely one of the temples would have treasure more valuable than the few baubles they’d been able to gather so far. Meanwhile, Moreven was becoming more obsessed with fighting and destroying these horrible monsters. She began to study their craft, guiding her own sorcerous development into the necromatic magics, to better combat her hated foes.

Eventually, Moreven’s increasing desire to hunt undead rather than seek out treasure caused the group to part ways amicably. Moreven now travels on her own, moving from town to town as a performer, and listening intently for any rumors which would point to any nearby bastion of necromancy.

Personality
Moreven craves the attention of an adoring crowd, but in more intimate social situations she’s a recluse. She prefers not to be hassled by peoples problems, or even their genuine interest in her. She’s not completely without social graces, though, and can maintain a conversation if she needs to. She simply prefers not to need to.

Tactics
Moreven has become remarkably adept with Necromancy spells, and with the help of a powerful magic item (the Skull of Necromatic Mastery) she is able to attack her opponents using negative energy spells from even a great range. She does, however, keep a few conventional evocation spells at hand if necromancy fails her.

Being a performer, Moreven has a large number of spells which are primarily useful for entertaining a crowd. She often uses these spells to confuse or distract her enemies in combat.

Thoughts on Use
If all you need is something to spice up a small town, then adding Moreven as a traveling entertainer can do that. Having a sorceress casting flashy spells in the background of a scene can add depth and flavor to a game world.

In a more serious context, Moreven has become somewhat renowned as an “Undead Hunter.” She can be sought out by PCs in this capacity to offer advice, or other assistance in hunting and destroying undead.

Moreven The Sorceress (CR 3)
XP: 25.600
Female Human Sorceress 14
CG humanoid
Init +2; Senses Perception +0

Defenses

AC 15, Flat Footed 13, Touch 15 [10 + Dex(2) + Robes of Deflection (3)]
hp 79 (14d6 +28)
Fort +6 Ref +8 Will + 12

Offense

Speed 30ft
Melee Undying Staff – 4 (1d0/18-20 x2)
Ranged Light Crossbow + 2 (1d8/19-20 x2)(80ft)
Sorcerer Spells (CL 14th; Concentration +18; +2 save DC for Necromancy spells; +4 to overcome spell resistance)
7th (3/day)– Reverse Gravity
6th (5/day)– Acid Fog, Symbol of Fear, Undeath to Death, True Seeing
5th (6/day)– Waves of Fatigue, Cone of Cold, Seeming, Overland Flight
4th (7/day)– Dimensional Door, Arcane Eye, Ice Storm, Fear, Rainbow Pattern
3rd (7/day)– Explosive Runes, Gentle Repose, Ray of Exhaustion, Flame Arrow, Fireball, Dispell Magic
2nd (7/day)– Ghoul Touch, Command Undead, Pyrotechnics, Spider Climb, Invisibility, Whispering Wind
1st (7/day)– Magic Missile, Disguise Self, Silent Image, Ventriloquism, Floating Disk, Identify
0 (at will)– Acid Splash, Detect Magic, Arcane Mark, Dancing Lights, Mage Hand, Light, Ghost Sound, Touch of Fatigue, Prestidigitation
Bloodline Arcane
Bloodline Arcana
Whenever you apply a metamagic feat to a spell that increases the slot used by at least one level, increase the spell’s DC by +1. (Does not stack, does not apply to Heightened Spell.)
Bloodline Powers
Arcane Bond — Able to summon a familiar.
Metamagic Adept (3/Day) — May use a metamagic feat without increasing a spell’s casting time.

Stats

Str 11 (+0) Dex 15 (+2) Con 14 (+2) Int 14 (+2) Wis 12 (+1) Cha 19 (+4)
Base Atk +7/2; CMB +7; CMD 19
Feats Eschew Materials, Spell Focus (Necromancy), Greater Spell Focus (Necromancy), Metamagic: Extend Spell, Metamagic: Maximize Spell, Spell Penetration, Greater Spell Penetration, Combat Casting, Improved Counterspell, Iron Will
Skills Bluff (+21), Knowledge (Arcana)(+19), Spellcraft(+19), Knowledge (Religion/Undead) (+19)
Languages Common, Elven, Gnoll
Gear Robes of Deflection +3, Light Crossbow, Bag of Holding, 100ft of silk rope, 10 days of rations, crowbar, bedroll, spyglass, the preserved right arm and left leg of a full grown gnoll, Undying Staff, Skull of Necromatic Mastery

New Item: Undying Staff

Moreven’s signature staff was acquired when I ran her and her fellows through the Dungeons and Dragons 3.5 module The Standing Stone. It is constructed from humanoid bones wired together into a single piece. The staff has 1 charge of Animated Dead, and 2 charges of Create Undead. Moreven had a smith modify it to mount a blade on the end, allowing it to serve double-duty as a glaive.

New Item: Skull of Necromatic Mastery

This mysterious and ornate skull is immensely powerful. Any caster who possesses it is able to cast their Necromancy spells with an additional range of 60ft. This range increase includes spells with a range of “touch,” which allows the Necromancer in question to use frighteningly powerful spells without putting themselves in direct confrontation with their target.

Familiar: Weasel, the Weasel

Tiny Animal
Init +2; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +3
AC 22, touch 14, flat footed 20 [10 + Dex(2) + natural(8) + size(2)]
hp 4 (1d8)
Fort +2; Ref +4; Will +1
Speed 20ft, Climb 20ft
Melee bite +4 (1d3 – 4 plus attach)
Space 2 and 1/2 ft.; Reach 0ft
Str 3 Dex 15 Con 10, Int 12, Wis 12, Cha 5
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 6 (10 vs. trip)
Feats Weapon Finesse, Alertness
Skills Acrobatics +10, Climb +10, Escape Artist +3, Stealth +14
SQ: Attach (Ex) When a weasel hits with a bite attack, it automatically grapples its foe, inflicting automatic bite damage each round.
Familiar Special Abilities Share Spells, Empathic Link, Deliver Touch Spells, Speak with Master, Speak with animals of its kind, Spell resistance, Scry on Familiar, Improved Evasion

Negune: Historical Overview

If you recognize the map above, you may just pay more attention to my posts than I do. I posted it once before (sans political notations) in an October update about methods for generating maps randomly without using a computer. As the sloppy handwriting in the upper right indicates, this is the continent of Negune, location of my Ascendant Crusade campaign. Normally when I start a new game, I start a new game world, and its geography and locals are developed as the players travel further and further abroad from where they start. But Negune is special.

You see, several years back I had no job, no close friends living nearby, and most importantly, no Internet. My TV was broken as well, so I couldn’t play any of my console games. From September through to December of 2009 I did two things: Watch Star Trek The Next Generation over and over again, and work on developing the world of the Ascendant Crusade. It may sound very sad–and truthfully it wasn’t a pleasant time in my life–but I must confess I miss the absolute focus my isolation provided me. It’s remarkable what one can get done without the Internet.

So where am I going with this? Well you see, I miss working on Negune. I had a lot of ideas which I never had a chance to develop beyond concepts. I want to write about this place. Hell, it’s already started seeping into my recent writing. Even while I wrote the Gravewhisper’s Claw post, I knew that the dozen made-up ‘fantasy words’ I was dropping were going to be gibberish to my readers. So from here on I’ll occasionally be doing posts which develop my Negune campaign setting. Maybe we’ll even learn something about creating a living breathing world along the way. Who the fuck knows.

History of Negune

Many thousands of years ago, the god, Valor, looked upon the world of Tyrgaren and saw that it had no heroes to rival those of other worlds. “This will not do!” he bellowed, and struck the oceans with his hammer. Opposite his blow, a new continent rose from the sea. “Here will heroes worthy of me be born! Let any who seek my favor come to Negune, and prove themselves!” To this, Valor’s brother Strife replied “If heroes are to be made here, there must be challenges to test them!” With this, Strife sowed across the land challenges unlike those seen before on the face of Tyrgaren. Hearing her brothers, Abundance approached. “You fools.” she chided “Who will fight for this land? Who will struggle so hard against challenges so great simply for the favor of a distant god?” And Abundance caressed the land of Negune, bestowing it with a fertility and richness seen nowhere else on Tyrgaren. The three gods embraced, proud of their work, and turned their attention away from their creation. It was then that Evil approached, and blew his dark breath over the land of Negune. “And now,” he whispered, careful not to be heard by the three creator gods “my darkness shall always guide this land’s fate.”

–Creation myth, found scribed on an obsidian tablet in the central Arganian forests.

The earliest civilizations of Negune organized themselves into city-states. Not much is known about this period or what came before it. What is clear is that these city states had a variety of cultures, some quite different from each other. During this civilization’s peak, there were several hundred of these city states, frequently warring with one another and vying for land and resources.

It was during this peak that a woman named Eganaptyc arrived in the city state of Oriac. History is unclear on precisely where she came from, and many recovered texts from this period suggest a supernatural origin. However, the people of Negune at this time had not yet managed to construct ships capable of crossing oceans, therefore it is more likely that Eganaptyc arrived on Negune from one of the other continents, which were much more technologically advanced during this period. No effort has yet been made to search the ancient libraries of other lands to discover her origins.

Eganaptyc was a Wizard of not insignificant skill, if tales of her magical demonstrations are to be believed. Though, given that the people of Negune at this time had very limited experience with magic, their accounts are highly suspect. None the less, Eganaptyc’s magical prowess and apparent benevolence quickly elevated her within Oriac, and she was made an adviser to the city’s king. The king had no children, and upon his death the people demanded that Eganaptyc take the throne.

Under her rule, Oriac began to aggressively expand its boarders. First by securing powerful alliances with other city states in the East, then by conquering the city states to the West. Once her control there was established, Eganaptyc turned on her Eastern allies and conquered them. So did Eganaptyc’s wars of conquest continue for many years. Wars which were continued by her son when she became too old to devote her full attention to matters of state. Eganaptyc lived just long enough for all of Negune to be brought under the rule of Oriac during her granddaughter’s reign.

With no enemies left to fight, Eganaptyc’s granddaughter, Retyac the Benevolent, turned her attention to strengthening her empire by spreading education to its furthest reaches. This is the beginning of Negune’s golden age. It was marked by unprecedented prosperity in every corner of the Eganaptyc Empire. Technological advancement and learning accelerated, and within ten generations the once primitive Negune had become one of the most advanced societies in the world. The capital city of Oriac came to be widely known as the greatest city in all the world, stretching out to cover the entire island of Argania.

For three thousand years this unprecedented prosperity continued, and the Eganaptyc Empire flourished. But as Eganaptyc’s descendents became more and more removed from the teachings and philosophies which had made their ancestors great, they began to lose touch with their people. When the people questioned them, these rulers resorted to oppression. And almost suddenly, within twenty years, millennia of good was undone. Oriac was sacked, anyone who had represented law and order was subjected to the rule of the mob, and civilization was lost.

Alternative governments were tried, but the incessant squabbling and vying for power in these governments led to constant wars, which invariably resulted in groups that were even more fractured, and required even smaller forms of government. Within a few centuries, Negune had descended from a continent-spanning empire, to a loose confederation of states, eventually returning to city states, and then descending even further into tribalism, and finally to barbarism. And there it remained for an eon.

Two thousand years after the fall of Oriac, five adventurers came to Negune. Many adventurers had come before them, but all had either returned home or perished. But these seven would prove different. Their names have become legendary: Korrik Anribo, the mighty elven wizard; Shorn Ironteeth, the dwarven axemaster; Horatiana, the human whose songs could soften even a titan’s heart; Grephar, the human paladin; Norak the wild man; Bronsond the elven ranger; and Carrifeist, the half elven rogue.

For over thirty years, these seven traveled to every land of Negune. They slew monsters, saved villages, and bred good will throughout the land. Then, while exploring the Cold Iron Mountains in central Negune, something happened. Not a one of them would ever speak of it during their lifetimes, but when they descended from the mountain Bronsond was not with them, and they immediately parted ways.

Korrik settled in the far North, on a small island which he named Ribanko. He never spoke with any of his compatriots again. Shorn united many disparate and primitive dwarven clans, and settled in the ore-rich mountains in the North, founding the dwarven city he called Shornholm. Grephar traveled far to the West, to the most defensible position in the party had found in all of their travels. He united the people there, and called his nation Stekett. Carrifest settled near the sea. When people came and built a city around her, and begged her to rule it, she named it for her fallen comrade: Bronsond. Horatiana, the party’s public face, had gained the most good will during their travels, and people flocked to her banner when she chose to settle down. So many swore allegiance to her that she had to break her nation, Regalia, into seven provinces: Tonshire, Shield Haven, Garvain, Centralia, Volpan, Sextent, and Pyensal. One for each of her former comrades. Before the group parted ways, Norak asked only that his friends never civilize all the land, and that they leave plenty of space for him to run free.

Eight hundred years have now passed since the Seven Heroes parted company. All have long since died–save Korrik, who still broods on his isle to the North.

Creating an Evil Campaign Featuring the Undead

tom kidd 90968, 2/27/04, 11:49 AM, 8C, 3750×5000 (0+0), 62%, bent 6 stops, 1/30 s, R41.2, G31.5, B69.8

Note: This Friday’s Magical Marvels is written and ready to go up. However, my ladyfriend is busy with coursework, and has not been able to create the art for it. Both of us have really enjoyed what her art has added to this series of posts, so I’ll be holding off on posting it until sometime Sunday, after she completes the image. Thanks for your patience!

A month or two back, I typed a bunch of tabletop RPG keywords into twitter, found some random accounts, and followed them. I’m quite active on twitter, but most of my twitter friends are not tabletop role players, so I was hoping to expand my circle of friends a little more. By and large the endeavor has been a failure. Most of the accounts I followed have since been unfollowed either for being inactive, or being boring. Recently, though, one of those accounts posted this:

Tips on an evil campaign? Why, Evil is my middle name! It’s also my first and last name. Legally, I am Evil E. Eviltan. The original family name is actually “Evilsatan,” but it got anglicized when my grandparents arrived on Ellis island. Anyway, I quickly sent DMfemme a response.

A few days went by, and I forgot about the message. Twitter is more of a chat room than a message board. If it takes someone more than 15 minutes to respond, odds are they aren’t going to. But lo and behold, a few days later:

Undead you say!? Why, I would say that undead was my middle name had I not already established that all of my names are permutations of ‘evil!’ That was, perhaps, shortsighted writing on my part. None the less, undead are my specialty. I don’t think I’ve ever run a campaign which didn’t include undead as a major element. Ever since my first game ham-fistedly throwing a mummy at my player, to my most recent cloak & dagger style game about the Cult of Vecna. When it comes to monsters, if it’s decomposing and likes the taste of sweet sweet manflesh, I like to include it in my games.

The first thing you should do, if you’re willing and able to spend a little money, is pick up a copy of Libris Mortis. It’s a 3.5 supplement, so if you’re running D&D 3.5 or Pathfinder the book is a must-have. But even if you’re using another system, there’s a lot of good fluff in here. More than I can cover in a single post, and it includes some of my favorite undead monsters. For this post, I’ll focus on things I’ve learned through my own gaming experience, which are not found in Libris Mortis.

I can think of a few ways an evil campaign can be undead based. The players can control undead, the players can work with undead, the players can work for undead, or the players can be undead. And, of course, you can mix and match. All of these are fun, and all come with their specific quirks.

Players Control Undead
If the players control undead, then they are likely of the Wizardly or Clerical persuasion, or some type of magic user at least. Though there’s no need to discount other possibilities. Perhaps the players find powerful artifacts early in the game which allow them to control undead–artifacts which grown in power as the characters level up. Or the characters could take the batman super villain route and fall into an open vat of negative energy, only to come out of it with the ability to control undead to some extent.

The thing about players who control undead, though, is that they become powerful quickly. Why explore a dungeon when you can simply send hoards of zombies into the dungeon as meat-shields. They’ll set off any traps and defeat or weaken any monsters within. Once they’ve done the grunt work, the players can move in and gather up the treasure. Even if they go into the dungeon themselves, encounters need to be buffed up significantly to make up for all the extra attacks players get (“my character attacks, then Zombies 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 attack”).

Still, one can’t deny the feeling of power that controlling an undead hoard gives to players. It’s an exhilarating feeling, and the GM should let them enjoy that. But that doesn’t mean the GM should never take it away. Undead-controlling villains can come up against paladins or clerics, able to cause their undead to flee in terror. Or they might find themselves forced to fight on consecrated ground where their undead cannot tread. Worst of all, they might eventually face a more capable necromancer, able to steal their control of their undead away from them! (You could call him “LS,” mwuahaha)!

Players Work With Undead
Lets say, for example, that rather than being necromancers, the players work for a necromancer. This gives the players a bit more freedom, since the GM doesn’t need to shoe-horn the players into the position of controlling some undead. More freedom means the players have more control, and the players having more control means the players have Player Agency, and player agency is a good thing to foster in your games. This option also gives the players less power over how the undead interact with the game, since they don’t control them directly. And as a third boon, this option gives the GM a convenient “quest giver” in the form of the player’s necromatic master.

Consider, for example, a scenario where the players are in the service of the great Necromancer Alicia. Alicia wants the players to subdue a tribe of goblins living not far from her tower of Brooding Darkness. Perhaps she provides them with amulets to help them direct the undead, but she could just as easily send an NPC along to control the undead, or even just control the undead herself from the aforementioned tower. Or perhaps Alicia doesn’t want the goblins killed, but just needs the players to throw some undead-powder into the goblin’s bonfire, causing them all to choke on the fire’s smoke and become zombies themselves.

Players Work For Undead
The players working for an undead has a lot of potential to play out exactly the same way that the players working for a necromancer does. After all, necromancers don’t die, they just become liches. (…which, I guess, requires dying at some point, but you take my meaning.) However, there are a variety of intelligent undead with the potential to keep the players as their minions.

Vampires are a favorite of mine. I’ve always felt they’re underused in the role of “overlord” style villain. Player quests could include finding humans for the vampire to feed on, help bring about eternal night, or even just work on traditional goals like conquering the world. Just because you don’t have a pulse or show up in mirrors doesn’t mean you don’t still lust for power. Ghosts are another great example. Being incorporeal, ghosts are much less likely to pursue worldly goals, but they could easily have plots of their own. Perhaps they want to return to a corporeal body, or they want the players to enact a ritual which will allow them to pass on to a more pleasant afterlife than the one for which they are destined.

Players Are Undead
Players as undead offers some of the most interesting possibilities. There are plenty of undead types for players to pick from. The party’s wizard could be a lich, the rogue could be a ghost, the fighter a vampire, and the cleric a mummy. Even normally unintelligent undead such as ghasts, ghouls, wights, etc can be “awakened,” allowing them to have an Intelligence score. Players will be happy because their undead have fantastic special abilities. All of them will be immune to crits, most of them will gain special attacks, and massive bonuses to their stats.

The players will likely be so distracted by all their special bonuses that they’ll completely forget all the power they’re handing over to their game master. Yes, the vampire fighter now has +6 natural armor, but they also cannot enter private residences without first being invited in, nor can they go outside during the day. And don’t forget that all undead can potentially be turned, or worse, dominated by a powerful necromancer. Which isn’t to say that you should punish your players for being undead–simply that you should make use of their weaknesses. That’s part of the fun of undead!

Other
There are a few other things I’d like to mention about running an undead-heavy campaign before ending this post.

Origin Many types of undead come with origin stories attached. Some are created when innocents are buried in a mass grave, others are spawned of unrepentant murderers, or children killed by their own family members. (The slaymate is one of my all time favorite undead.) Be aware of these origins, and if a type of undead doesn’t have them, think about creating your own. The origin of an undead can give you a good baseline for that undead’s personality. Or, if the players are out to create a specific type of undead, it can provide them with a gruesomely evil task.

Cliches Aren’t Scary If you’re running an undead-heavy campaign because you like the creepiness of undead, remember that something stops being creepy once you get used to it. If you’ve only got a few adjectives to describe a zombie–rotting, shambling, grotesque–then your players are going to get bored of them really quick. Be creative, pull out a thesaurus, and make sure you keep giving your players new types of undead to encounter. Your zombies should dribble black gore onto the ground as they shamble, your lich should have half of a nose and a jaw attached to his skull by a wire, and your skeletons should still have bits of shriveled organs piled at the bottom of their rib cage.

Don’t Forget the Classics Often times, game masters get caught up in the big fancy undead, and forget about the little guys. Skeletons and Zombies can be incredibly creepy and threatening at any level. Don’t forget that humans aren’t the only ones who can be corpse-ified! One of my favorite monsters is the skeletal hill giant. And the dragon whose zombie-wings are too rotted to fly on any longer can be a terrifying foe. Even without using a high-CR foe as the base creature, these types of undead can be formidable. I recently threw my players up against a large number of skeletons which had Magic Missile inscribed on their index fingers. My players found it quite challenging to run back and forth across the battlefield taking out the skeletons one by one, getting hit by 1d4 + 1 unblockable damage from each skeleton each round.

And never forget: If you’re running a game with undead, use a Corpse-Sewn Hekatonkheires at some point. It’s just the right thing to do!

NPC Reactions

Fair warning: the job that pays for my rent has been exhausting lately. I fell asleep immediately after coming home last night, and didn’t wake up until morning. I had a rough outline of this post prepared already, but don’t have as much time as I’d planned on to actually put it together.

Non-player characters pose a real challenge for me, as a game master. Much as I pride myself on improvisation as a general skill, I am not at all satisfied with my ability to conjure up interesting NPCs on the spot. Over the years I’ve found that I default to a handful of naming conventions (Um…it’ll start with a P…”Hello traveler! My name is…Pyort!” *Players all crack up*) and that all my voices, personalities, etcetera start to sound suspiciously similar over time. An entire world full of Pyorts is not a good idea, let me tell you.

To try to remedy this failing of mine, I’ve tried coming up with a number of tools. I once spent a good six months working on a PHP script which would randomly generate a bunch of “seed” information for an NPC. The idea was that you could hit a button, and be given a race, class, personality type, mood, name, etc. All of which were suited to my campaign setting. The whole project had the added bonus of helping me hone my sloppy PHP skills. Unfortunately I had to move just as the project was gaining momentum, so it’s been on the back burner for going on three years now.

The project may have been overly ambitious in the first place anyway. These days I’m convinced that there must be a simpler, more elegant way to make NPCs distinct from one another. One which doesn’t require that I have a laptop behind the GM screen. There are, after all, a number of identifiable things which modify a person’s attitude and behavior. Cultural traits, for example. There have been some interesting studies about how culture modifies a person’s behavior, even within the united states. For example, as a statistical average, people in the south are more likely to be polite, but they’re also more likely to become violent if they feel they’ve been insulted or marginalized. Whereas my experience in the pacific northwest for 24 years has led me to expect that people are largely passive aggressive about their feelings. That’s a pretty big difference, and it’s the same species within the same country. Imagine a world like Pathfinder’s where there are literally different races. (In fact I did look at that question just recently.)

Over the last few days, however, I’ve been thinking much more about what makes people act the way they do in my own life. If I go outside and talk to my neighbors, or to my girlfriend, or to my coworkers, or to my friends, what will affect the way they act towards me? We’re all the same species, and we all live in the same area, so ostensibly we would have the same basic rules about social interaction. Yet even day to day a given person can change the way they act. So what’s going on, and how can it help me make a better NPC? The way people act around one another is heavily influenced by their mood, their reaction to your mood and appearance, and a myriad of other tiny details which could be placed on a simple random chart for quick NPC generation.

  • Just received good/bad news/experience This can be small news, like receiving a discount on an item at the shop, or stubbing one’s toe. Or it can be bigger things, such as when a merchant arranges a deal which will ensure long-term profits for them, or when a farmer learns that his neighbors farm has been ravaged by locusts and fears he may be next. People are more likely to be helpful and friendly when they’ve received good fortune, and more likely to be unhelpful and dour when they’ve received bad. And, of course, the level to which their mood affects them is proportional to how good or how bad the news is.
  • Looking forward to something with anxiety/excitement Anxiety and Excitement can manifest themselves very similarly to having just received good or bad news, but in either case a person is likely to be preoccupied with something which is going to happen soon, and may not have as much time for strangers.
  • First impression of you is good/bad People have many standards by which they judge a person. The aristocracy, or other contributing members of society, might find you dirty and unpleasant due to your adventuring lifestyle. However, they might also look on you as a curiosity. Someone with interesting tales to tell. Likewise a farmer might see an adventurer as a compatriot. Many adventurers are low-born folk, and they live roughly as low-born folk do. Unlike knights, adventurers are just trying to get by rather than serving a lord. But adventurers also have a nasty reputation for wooing farmer’s daughters (or sons).
  • Likes/doesn’t like members of your gender/race/class/etc The fantasy worlds that many of us play in are based on a medieval world which, in reality, was insanely prejudiced. Now, I am strongly of the opinion that in most fantasy adventure games, history should be ignored on this point. I won’t go into that here, because I could write an entire post on that topic. However, it’s perfectly legitimate for individual people (or towns or cultures) to hold a particular prejudice which makes them difficult for specific player to deal with. Wizards or Sorcerers could be viewed as untrustworthy, or as offensive to reality. Perhaps men are viewed by a particular culture to be brutish and rude. And elves, don’t get me started on those slack-jawed daffodils…
  • Generally outgoing/introverted This one seems pretty simple, really. Some people are friendly and eager to interact with new people. They’re most likely to be helpful on minor issues, though it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll go out of their way for strangers. More introverted folks may be no less friendly, but they’re not going to be as comfortable dealing with people they’re not already familiar with.

Magical Marvels 3: Wallcraft's Offerings

This week’s artifact duom spear, also from my Ascendant Crusade campaign, is again illustrated by my ladyfriend. You should check out more of her art on her DeviantArt page.

Wallcraft’s Offerings
Artifact Duom Spear

DUOM SPEAR

The Duom spear, introduced in the Dungeons and Dragons 3.0 supplement Arms and Equipment Guide is a longspear with a standard spearhead, as well as two blades curved so that they point backward along the shaft. The weapon has reach, allowing you to strike opponents 10 feet away with it. Those proficient with the duom can also attack adjacent foes with the reversed heads using a practiced “reverse thrust.” Apply a -2 penalty on the attack roll if you use the duom to attack a second, adjacent opponent in the same round you attacked the first opponent. Duom spears cost about 20gp, deal 1d8 damage for medium creatures, with a critical multiplier of 3 on a natural twenty. They weigh 8 pounds on average, and deal piercing damage.

PHYSICAL ATTACKS

(Main Blade)1d8 + 5 (Piercing)(20/x3)(10ft.)
(Reverse Blades) 1d8 + 5 (Piercing)(20/x3)(5ft.)
(Shaft) 1d6 + 5 (Bludgeoning)(20/x2)(5ft.)

SPELLS GRANTED

At Will- Unhallow, cast by thrusting Wallcraft’s Offering into the ground for two minutes. (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 363)

At Will – Animate Dead, cast by letting the droplets of blood from Wallcraft’s Offering fall onto a viable corpse for 1 full round. (PFCR Pg. 241)

SPECIAL ABILITIES

  • Though Duoms are not made for throwing, Wallcraft’s Offerings magically gives it a throwing range increment of 20ft.
  • At will it can be summoned to its owners hands.
  • At will, the blood dripping from The Blind Empress’ hand can create a cloud of red mist around the spear’s blade, granting a +5 to bluff checks when attempting to feint.
  • Once per day, The Blind Empress’ discarded eye can guide the spear in magical flight. A target who is within the sight of the thrower must be selected, and the thrower must speak the command word “May Vecna make my aim true!” Wallcraft’s Offering then flies through the air at a speed of 120ft per round, following the target even around corners, and up to one mile distant from the thrower. After either hitting or missing the target, or reaching 1 mile of distance, Wallcraft’s Offering is magically summoned back to the thrower’s hands.
  • Wallcraft’s Offering grants the wielder a +10 on Spellcraft, Knowledge(Arcana), and knowledge (Religion) checks.
  • When attempting to recruit followers of Vecna, the wielder is granted +5 to their leadership score. All normal leadership restrictions apply.
  • The character wielding Wallcraft’s Offering is treated as one level higher for the purposes of determining how many undead they can control.
  • Wallcraft’s Offering can be used as a holy symbol by followers of Vecna.
  • Wallcraft’s Offering radiates a strong aura of Necromancy and Evil.

APPEARANCE

The blade’s shaft is made of a polished bronze, which is perfectly smooth, yet does not slide in the hand when gripped. The shaft ends in an expertly crafted bronze skull, from which springs the the adamantium spear blade. A pair of imp’s wings, torn from the back of one of the foul creatures, have been magically turned to iron and shaped into the duom’s reverse blades. The Whispered Queen’s eye, plucked from her own head, is mounted between the two wings. Likewise her hand, cut from her own arm, clutches the duom’s shaft just below the spear blade. Though it has been severed for years, it still bleeds profusely. Any blood which falls from it, however, disappears shortly after it touches the ground.

HISTORY

Not much is known about the early life of the woman for whom this weapon was named. She was always shrouded in mystery, and what was known of her has now been lost to the mists of time. What people do know are the titles she earned for herself. Vecna’s Heartfelt Voice, The Blind Empress, the Whispered Queen, Lady of the Ascent–Warmisstress Wallcraft. From her granite throne at center of the Citadel of the Seed, she ruled over the known world with an iron fist for a thousand years. Though it has been centuries since the end of her rule, there are few more terrifying figures in history than she. Perhaps even more so, now that she sits at the right hand of the god she served so well.

It is said that the Whispered Queen was chosen at a young age by Vecna himself. That he groomed her, and guided her to usurp the leadership of his religion from her long forgotten predecessor. That when she stood over the bloody corpse, she turned the knife on herself, and cut out her eyes and her left hand in honor of her god.

The followers of Vecna–those few who still remain–know the story to be a little less dramatic. The Whispered Queen did usurp leadership of the Cult of Vecna from the former leader, and in doing so, obtained both The Hand and The Eye. The removal of her own hand and eye were a gesture of faith, yes, but it was also necessary for her to affix the powerful artifacts to her own body. And she only removed one eye, as the other had been lost during her youth. But even the faithful do not know that tale.

After gaining control the Cult of Vecna, The Whispered Queen took her severed hand and eye, and forged them into one of the most magnificent weapons the world has ever seen. Working with her companions, including master tactician Kisteer Forktongue, The Whispered Queen systematically conquered kingdom after kingdom with ruthless efficiency. Often neighboring nations were completely unaware that their ally had been conquered until the forces of Vecna were on their own doorstep. The world fell before her might, and her empire lasted a thousand years.

But all empires must fall. The Whispered Queen finally met her end at the hands of upstart peasants, and Wallcraft’s Offering was seemingly lost to the ages.

What is not commonly known is that one of the peasants who defeated the Whispered Queen, a paladin named Toryan, tried to destroy the vile weapon, but could not. No fire would smelt it, no axe would sunder it, no hammer could even dull its razor edge. At a loss for options, she gathered together three dozen other paladins from her order, and they traveled deep into the wilderness. When they reached a suitable place, they all dug together for nine days, and placed the spear in a sealed adamantium box, upon which they placed powerful wards against evil and divination–hoping to keep its location hidden from the god of secrets himself.

The 37 paladins then buried the box again, and vowed to dedicate their lives to its protection. They settled there, and built a small farming community on the ground above their ward. Generations have passed, and the community has grown to a small town of 300 people. Most know nothing of their town’s founders, or of their town’s sacred purpose. They are no longer even deep in the wilderness: civilization has spread out around them, and there are several other communities nearby. Only the twelve town elders, and the town’s High Cleric know of the secret beneath the earth, and even they know only that a great evil rests there which must be protected.

But centuries have passed, and the magical protections have begun to weaken…

A Personal History of Role Playing

When I was young, I liked to play pretend. When we’re young, we all do. I played “Star Wars” a lot, putting myself into the role of Luke Skywalker, waving sticks around and making “vroosh!” noises with my mouth. As I got a little older, and my friends started to be more interested in bicycles and video games, I continued to enjoy playing pretend. Which isn’t to say I didn’t love video games or bicycles. I distinctly remember being a member of a “biker gang” which wasn’t allowed to cross any streets, so we just rode around the block over and over. But while my friends stopped playing pretend, my fantasies only became more elaborate. I even started making up my own characters, drawing pictures of them, and writing notes about their various abilities and weapons. Looking back on it, these pieces of paper were proto-character sheets.

I owe it to Bill Amend, the brilliant cartoonist behind the long-running syndicated comic strip Fox Trot, for first introducing me to the concept of tabletop role playing games. You see, one of my other passions as a young child was reading the comic strips in the daily newspaper. Even after my family stopped having the paper delivered, because my parents didn’t have time to read it, I convinced my grandmother to save the comic page for me. I even kept all of the comic pages in a box under my bed. If you’re not familiar with Fox Trot, one of the primary characters is ten year old Jason Fox, a geeky kid who excels academically, and is passionate about many “nerdy” pursuits. I can’t recall precisely when, but at some point during my childhood the strip featured Jason and his friend Marcus playing Dungeons and Dragons. The game wasn’t mentioned by name, but the core elements were all on display: a dungeon master’s screen, dice, and the DM weaving a world for the player’s character to explore.

The notion intrigued me. I was too young then to remember what precisely went through my mind, but I knew that whatever they were doing looked fun, and I wanted to play too. I constructed a GM screen out of black construction paper, and glued little pieces of note paper to the inside of it. On the note paper, I wrote the rules I had made up for the game. I also recall creating small tokens–doodles on pieces of paper–to represent adventurers and monsters. I also had a bowl with numbered scraps of paper to take the place of the dice. My parents warned me that the game I was emulating was an evil one–which would prove to be a major point of contention later in my life. But, to their credit, they didn’t go so far as to forcibly stop me from pursuing the project. I spent at least a few days working on my primitive version of D&D, but never really figured out how to make all the elements come together into a cohesive game. Nor could I convince any of my siblings to play with me. Eventually I gave up and largely forgot about the project, as kids are apt to do.

Eventually I joined my friends in growing out of playing pretend–though I never did stop quietly imagining myself to be someone else. That’s something I still do to this day. But so far as role playing is concerned, I didn’t take my next step until I was about 14 years old. That’s when my family finally got an Internet connection, and an entire world outside of my orthodox catholic homeschooler existence opened up. Writing about my history with the Internet and the impact it had on my life could be a whole other post altogether. But what’s important is that it didn’t take long for me to break my parents rule about never talking to other people on the Internet. In short order I found forums, and on forums, I found people role playing.

It was awful. The role plays I participated in those days were all themed around the Legend of Zelda mythos, yet most of the players were playing Final Fantasy characters. Not ripoffs mind you, characters like Auron, Sephiroth, and Red XIII were (for some reason) determined to save Hyrule. I hesitate to even mention the character I played, because I don’t think anyone directly involved remembers, but my character was actually named “Link Skywalker.” He traveled through dimensions living through other people’s lives. After living through someone’s life, he had all of their abilities and equipment. I honestly cannot tell you how tempted I am to simply edit this paragraph out and let my readers go on blissfully unaware of how shamefully bad my early role playing was.

It was around this same time that I joined a saber fencing class, which may seem irrelevant. However, this is the class where I first met Jeremy. He was quite a bit older than me, and in the advanced class, but we connected over our shared nerdiness. It wasn’t long before we spent more time talking than we did fencing, and I eventually learned that he played Dungeons and Dragons. I had always been interested in D&D, since I realized it was what Jason and Marcus had been playing in that old Fox Trot comic. However, my parents had made it very clear to me that such games were strictly forbidden–not just by them, but by “almighty god.” I wasn’t really convinced that D&D was evil, but at that time I was scared enough of my parents that I didn’t pursue the topic further.

My forum role playing continued for several years, and the quality of it improved a great deal. I abandoned my original character almost immediately in favor of one I dubbed Beloch Shrike (partially after the villain from Raiders of the Lost Arc, and partially after the villain from The Paradise Snare by A.C. Crispin.) The rest of the group similarly matured, and we experimented with a lot of different things. Some of the most important friendships of my life were formed during these early role playing experiences. Eventually, I even attempted to start a website, titled Epic Journeys, which would serve as a nexus of tools, information, and guides to help people facilitate running their own forum role plays. The project never really got off the ground, though I did actually manage to accomplish one thing. As part of the project, I coined the term “Online Text Based Role Playing Game,” or “OTBRPG,” and added it to Wikipedia (not then fully aware that this was a serious violation of Wikipedia’s rules.) Not only was the article never removed, but I have since actually met people who use the term without knowing I invented it. Seriously, google it. The phrase has entered somewhat common usage. This never ceases to crack me up, but I digress.

Everything changed for me, quite suddenly, in the last half of 2004. I was seventeen, still heavily involved in forum role playing, and starting to develop a taste for philosophy. My continued interest in Dungeons and Dragons led me to begin looking through the Catechism of the Catholic Church (big book o’ rules) looking for any mention of role playing or D&D. After finding none, I went online and found a forum dedicated to Catholics discussing their faith. I asked them what they thought about D&D being evil, and if you want to see something hilarious, the entire thread is still online and available to read. (Though apparently it now shows up as an unsafe link in most browsers. As best I can tell it is still safe to visit.) Most of the answers from other posters seemed to agree that there was nothing inherently wrong with D&D, so I printed the thread out and proudly presented it to my parents. After reading the printout, however, they summarily denied my request to be allowed to play the game. My parents were pretty terrifying people, and I grudgingly obeyed them.

Two months later, in September, I met Stephanie, and the changes in my life accelerated. We had a lot in common, including a shared interest in Dungeons and Dragons. At that time I had still never played, and she had played only once or twice. I won’t go into the details of our relationship, as is still somewhat painful, and certainly outside this blog’s subject matter. Suffice to say that I was head over heels. By November we were dating, and the relationship lasted for six years. In those early days of our relationship, I did a lot of things in order to spend more time with her. I bought a copy of Starcraft so we could have Battle.net dates. And, more relevantly, I took my fencing buddy Jeremy up on his standing offer to borrow his copy of the Dungeons and Dragons third edition core rulebooks. I hid them under some papers in the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet. Most kids are probably hiding weed, booze, porn and sex from their parents when they’re 17. I was hiding role playing sourcebooks. Some might see it as sad, but I’m actually rather proud of that.

The first little bit of D&D I ever played was with Stephanie. It was bad. I GMed a really short adventure for her where she fought a mummy. I didn’t understand any of the rules, and I was throwing stats around left and right without any idea what they meant. Fortunately, my parents and the rest of my family were out of town the following week, so Jeremy came over to give me a proper introduction to the game. Again: most kids throw drinking parties when they’re seventeen and their parents are out of town. I threw an adventuring party, and I’m proud of that. When Jeremy arrived he brought a gift with him: my own set of dice. They were a deep red with blue flecks, and they came in a plastic cylinder. He also brought with him his brand-new 3.5 edition core rulebooks, helped me roll up my very first rogue, and ran me through a simple Colosseum adventure where I fought some green needle monster things. It was glorious.

I continued in that way for quite some time. I purchased my own copies of the 3.5 rulebooks, and Jeremy would GM for me at his home. His ladyfriend, Jacie, eventually joined me as a gnomish cleric, and the two of us had many fine adventures together. I don’t remember how long it took for my parents to find out, likely just a few months if I remember correctly. I had just returned from a game at Jeremy’s, and went to find them to let them know I was home, my laptop bag filled with D&D supplies still in hand. They looked at me funny, and asked what I did when I was over at Jeremy’s. I tried to be nonchalant, and told them that we mostly just played games. They responded;

“Do you play Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Yes,” I said.

They didn’t really react much at all to that. Merely nodded and seemed to accept that this was a thing I was doing now. I never have been able to tell what things will make my parents angry and what things they can accept. For awhile I thought that, perhaps, they had mellowed out a bit, and become more accepting. That notion was proven wrong recently, when I asked them if I could buy my younger brother the Pathfinder Beginner Box for Christmas. They denied my request, adding that they didn’t like what “those types of games” had already done to one of their children. Cest’la vie.

Never the less, I took my books out from the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet, and placed them lovingly on one of my bookshelves.

Jeremy and I continued to play together, and I tried my hand at GMing several times. I’ve always loved crafting worlds. In fact, as a young child I used to spend a lot of time drawing complex maps for a monster-filled series of caverns.* I was born to be a GM, but running games for one person can be a limiting experience. I needed a larger group, but I had been home schooled since the fourth grade, and didn’t really have the social tools to make friends. At least, that is, until I enrolled in college for the Fall 2005 semester. College is supposedly an eye opening experience even for kids who attended an actual school, so you can imagine what a change it was for me. I met so many wonderful people there, including Chris and Jeremy. They were my first gaming group. I was so happy to finally have one that I actually purchased Player’s Handbooks for both of them. We had some great games together, and they even invited some of their own friends along, giving me a nice full party to work with.

To repeat an old cliche, the rest is history. Gaming groups have come and gone, and there have often been weeks or months at a time when I don’t get to play, but my love for the game always remains. It’s been over seven years since I picked up my first sourcebook–which seems like such a short amount of time compared to the lifetime I feel I’ve lived as a gamer. Jeremy plays in most of my games, and still serves as my GM whenever we play Zalekios. And if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that there will always be people out there who want to play games. All they need is someone to suggest it, and be willing to show them how it’s done.

*Holy shit. I can’t believe I never thought of using these old drawings as a dungeon for my players before. I know exactly where they are.

Monstrous Culture

Culture is important. No matter how much of an individual we think we are, each and every one of us is shaped by our culture in profound ways which we aren’t even aware of. For example, those of us who pride ourselves on individualism? We probably come from cultures, like the U.S., which emphasize individualism as a positive trait. Given all the fundamental ways in which our culture shapes us, it should be obvious that understanding a person’s culture is an essential element in understanding their outlook. Where am I going with this?

The cultures of the most basic, most iconic monstrous races in fantasy adventure games are all shit. And it ought to change, because I’m tired of ostensibly different creatures being functionally identical. Take, for example, four of the paragon monstrous races which have been harassing adventurers since first edition D&D: Orcs, Goblins, Kobolds, and Gnolls. Below, I’ve reduced the small amounts of cultural information for each of those races, taken from the Pathfinder Bestiary, to bullet points. If you’d like to check my work, these monsters can be found on pages 155, 156, 183, and 222.

Orcs…
Are violent and aggressive.
Are led by whoever is strongest.
Take what they want by force.
Don’t have regard for the lives of others.
Are not good at farming or herding.
Prefer to take things from others rather than earn those things for themselves.
Their largest group is a “band.”

Goblins…
Are filled with hatred.
Live in dark places and caves.
Are superstitious.
Scavenge items from the more civilized races rather than producing anything for themselves.
Are universally illiterate.
Their larges group is a “tribe.”

Kobolds…
Live in caves and other dark places.
Are overly proud of their distant relationship to dragons.
Are cowardly.
Are schemers.
Prefer to attack in large groups.
Their largest group is a “tribe.”

Gnolls…
Prefer to scavange or steal kills, rather than hunt themselves.
View non-Gnolls as either meat, or slaves.
Enjoy fighting, but only if they have an overwhelming advantage.
See no value in courage or valor.
Their largest group is a “tribe.”

Based on those elements, how different are those four really? Is a goblin’s rage significantly different from the violence and aggressiveness of orcs? Why do Orcs, Goblins, and Gnolls all universally prefer to take rather than to make? The similarities become even more obvious if you expand the cultural definitions beyond what is found in the scant few lines offered in the bestiary. Ask any gamer to give you the primary characteristic of goblins, and I’ll bet you a shiny new platinum piece that they’ll say “cowardice” nine times out of ten. That makes three out of four monstrous races which, despite supposedly being threatening, are culturally defined by their cowardice.

Most people who play tabletop games are familiar with the phrase “humans in funny hats.” A human in a funny hat is a non-human character who is played without regard for race defining characteristics. Such as a dwarf who doesn’t care for gold, or ale, or stonework, and prefers to live above ground. Such characters are, essentially, being played as humans. They’re merely wearing the skin, or the ‘hat,’ of another race.

Here I think we’re dealing with a similar problem. Out of four monsters, most of their cultural traits overlap with each other. The problem only becomes more pronounced if you begin to add more creatures, such as lizardfolk or bugbears. In the end there really seems to be only one or two different types of monster cultures in play, reiterated through lizard people, dog people, dragon people, green people, small green people, and so on. A GM who wants his players to face a large force of angry, marauding creatures without regard for human life could sub in any one of these races without needing to alter how his or her campaign is constructed at all.

I’d like to try to develop legitimately distinct cultures for each of the monstrous races in my campaigns, starting with these four.

Orcs
I’m rather fond of the “noble savage” version of orcs put forth in the Warcraft games. I’m not sure where this depiction of orcs originates, but I think it has merit. A race which is warlike and brutal, but which also holds honor above all other concerns. Of course, different Orcish subcultures define honor on their own terms. For some it might mean victory in fair combat, for others it might simply mean the number of notches on a warrior’s axe.

Given their warlike nature, I would think that Orcs are carnivorous rather than omnivorous. They are master hunters, and the hunt is a central theme in their culture. Orcs often attack other orcs, or other races, on sight. Orcs who have not spent a great deal of time amongst other races will not understand that non-orcs do not view fighting and death to be desirable.

Given their constant warring, both with themselves and with other races, most Orcish tribes lag far behind other species technologically.

Goblins
Of all the monstrous races, I think goblins are most fit to keep most of the traditional monster culture. They are a weak and cowardly tribal people, who feel anger and rage more strongly than any of their other emotions. Since they rely on each other for self preservation, they turn their anger outward, towards other races. Though plenty of goblin squabbles still turn deadly.

They are a sadistic lot, and enjoy taking out their anger and their hate on those who can’t properly defend themselves; be it small animals, commoners, or adventurers unprepared for the sheer number of goblins they faced.

Goblins are also stupid and superstitious, often attributing magical or divine properties to the mundane. And lastly, goblins are scavengers. They live in caves or in abandoned structures, and like to collect items stolen from other races.

Kobolds
I went over some of my thoughts on Kobolds in my recent Magical Marvels post. I view them as a humble people, who look to dragons as their great rulers or heroes. They recognize that they are weak, and do not seek to prove themselves in combat against other groups or races. Their unassuming nature has made them the doormats of the world, which has prevented them from becoming as technologically advanced as the other races. And since most kobolds prefer to spend their entire lives living with their tribe, few kobolds go out into the world to bring knowledge back to their people.

Their lack of advancement is a shame, because despite their humble nature, kobolds are remarkably clever. The very few who do manage to summon the courage to leave their people, and then are lucky enough to encounter kindly and learned fellows, have proven to be quick learners. More than one great general throughout history has kept a kobold adviser. Many great researchers and wizards have also had kobold assistants. In candid moments, those generals, researchers, and wizards might even admit that some of their great accomplishments were really the work of their kobold associate.

Gnolls
Gnolls are, essentially, 9ft tall intelligent Hyenas. So we just need to scroll down to the behavior section of the wikipedia page and…well some of the basic traits I outlined above actually work pretty well. Gnolls are scavengers and kill stealers. However, they are anything but cowardly as fighters. They fight ferociously, and without mercy. Their greater size compared to other humanoids instills them with great confidence in combat–but they are not above flight if they feel they are outmatched. As noted above, Gnolls do not hold valor as a virtue.

Gnolls are relatively smart, but simple and lazy. They do what they need to do to fill their needs: eating, sleeping, and reproducing. Once they’ve got those things taken care of, they don’t care much for anything else.

NOTE: It occurs to me, having written this, that Paizo has released both a “Goblins of Golarion,” and an “Orcs of Golarion” supplement. It is possible that these concerns are partially addressed in those booklettes. I think the larger issue remains valid, though.

Magical Marvels 2: Kofek's Tongue

As I mentioned in last week’s Colorful Characters post, I’ve been thinking about spicing up my Friday update, (never mind the fact that they’ve been going up on Saturdays lately). So from now on, Fridays will be a toss up between three regular features: Colorful Characters, Magical Marvels, and Malevolent Monsters. (Anybody admire assonance and alliteration?) I’m not going to make any special effort towards making sure there’s an even distribution between the three, but if my readership gravitates strongly towards one of the three I’ll see if I can’t give it some special attention.

This week is a top-tier rogue weapon which has shown up in my Ascendant Crusade campaign. Special thanks to my ladyfriend for providing the art for it. You can find more of her artwork on her DeviantArt page.

Kofek’s Tongue
Intelligent Artifact, Small Scythe

PHYSICAL ATTACKS

(Main Blade)1d6 + 5 (Slashing)(20/x4)
(Staff) 1d4 + 5 (Bludgeoning)(20/x2)
(Switchblade) 1d3 (Piercing, Slashing)(19-20/x2)(May be activated as a swift action. Weapon is concealed until then)
(Dart) 1 damage. Each coated with Nitharit poison (Con damage, PFCR pg. 560) (Only 2, must be reloaded as a full round action) (Darts are fired from the eye sockets of the kobold skull mounted at the top of the blade’s shaft)

SPELLS GRANTED

6/day – Suggestion (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 350)
1/day – Invisibility (PFCR Pg. 301)(2 minute duration)
2/day – Scorching Ray (PFCR Pg. 337)(Ranged Touch, 4d6 fire damage) (One comes from each of the two rubies mounted in the small marble skull’s eye sockets)

SPECIAL ABILITIES

  • The wielder can make telekinetic trip attacks at a range of 30 feet. Trip attempts are otherwise treated normally.
  • As a swift action, the wielder may utter a command word, causing the shaft to split in the middle. The two halves are connected by a chain. This allows the scythe blade to be used as a 10ft reach weapon.
  • The scythe blade can be “thrown” by Kofek’s Tongue. The blade deals damage normally, and has a range increment of 20ft. Once the blade stops, it magically returns to Kofek’s Tongue.
  • The wielder gains a +10 to their combat maneuver bonus relating to trip attacks.

INTELLIGENT ITEM ABILITIES

EGO 22; INT 20 (+5) WIS 18 (+4) CHA 10 (+0)
Senses Darkvision 120ft, Blindsense, Hearing; Communication Speech, Telepathy
Languages Common, Draconic, Goblin, Halfling, Gnomish
Alignment True Neutral
Purpose Kofek’s Tongue is driven towards subterfuge, traps and trickery. During periods of downtime, it will often drive its wielder to perform practical jokes on their own companions, to slake its own thirst for trickery. The weapon would strongly resist being used in an open and honest fight, such as a duel, or military assault.
Racism The weapon can abide gnomes, but CANNOT be weilded by one. Any Gnome which attempts to hold it takes 10d6 damage/hour.

APPEARANCE

Kofek’s Tongue has a simple brown shaft made of fine polished wood. At the head of the shaft, a kobold’s skull and jawbone are mounted. The scythe blade is clutched firmly in the skull’s mouth (thus, it is the “tongue.”) On the opposite end of the shaft is a small ornate skull made of white marble. In each of the two eye sockets rests a small ruby. A small switchblade is mounted at the bottom of the shaft, which can be released by depressing a small button on the handle, causing the 5″ blade to extend straight from the bottom of the shaft, protruding from the small marble skull.

HISTORY

As a species, kobolds are smaller, and more physically feeble than most of the common races. They’ve learned that the best response to confrontation is to flee, which has earned them a reputation as a cowardly lot. However, kobolds are also exceedingly clever. They know that they do not need to fight their foes in order to harm them. The astounding, even instinctual trap making abilities of kobolds are renowned throughout the world. And none more so than Kofek.

Kofek is a Kobold hero, one of the few the species has. She was the matriarch of The Redscale Clan, and taught her people to make traps more devious and deadly than any made by kobold kind before her. The stories told of her by firelight have grown grandiose and distorted through countless retelling, but the core of her legend is true: no adventuring party ever managed to survive the approach to the Redscale village. And when she turned her mind to vengeance against the humans who had driven her clan into the mountain a generation before, the devices Kofek’s clan hid throughout the human lands caused many to flee their homes.

Then the gnomes came. A band of ten kobold hunters, called by the leader of the human village. He arranged a meeting with Kofek, ostensibly to negotiate an end to hostilities. Instead, the noble Kobold leader was ambushed by the gnomes. Her loyal guards died defending her. Kofek was tortured. Her eyes put out with hot irons, her tongue forks stretched apart, her scales pulled off her one by one. The gnomes demanded to know how to bypass the traps which led to her village, but she never told them. After three weeks of unceasing agony, Kofek died. The gnomes attempted to assail the village on their own, but were killed by the deadly traps. Kofek’s vengeance from beyond the grave.

With the gnomes gone, and the human forces weakened and demoralized, the Redscale Tribe armed themselves, and marched on the village in force. Many were killed in the battle, but none would flee. Such was their love for the great Kofek. They recovered her body, and brought it back to the village to honor it properly. Kobolds do not bury or burn their dead. They honor them by using their remains to support the tribe. Her scales were made into the raiment which would forever garb the leader of the Redscale tribe, her claws and teeth were made into spear tips and arrowheads. And her skull and jawbone, with her brain still inside, were lovingly crafted into the most magnificent scythe the tribe’s weaponsmith ever crafted.

For generations, the scythe, named “Kofek’s Tongue” served as a badge of office for the village’s greatest trap-smith. Until a young kobold, a traveler from the Forktongue tribe, visited the Redscales. His name was Kisteer, and he had heard rumors that Kofek’s wisdom still spoke to the one who held the magnificent scythe. Kisteer spent many hours with the tribe’s trapsmith, discussing new designs and pretending to learn from the older kobold. While the old kobold was sleeping, Kisteer stole the scythe, and fled from the village.

Kisteer wielded Kofek’s Tongue through many adventures, and even improved upon it with his own modifications. His mechanical skill and trapping instincts eventually rose to such prominence that they were said to rival Kofek’s own. However, most kobolds have no love for Kisteer. As a lieutenant of The Blind Empress, he is viewed as an evil conqueror. And, after the establishment of the Blind Empress’ Empire, Kisteer further enraged Kobold kind by visiting many kobold tribes, and robbing them of their strongest and most intelligent members, to establish his own Tribe of The Black Eye.

Since Kisteer’s death, Kofek’s tongue has been passed down through the generations to the leaders of the Tribe of the Black Eye. And is still held by them to this day.