The Dragon

Sometimes you have strange thoughts in your backyard.

1. The Dragon is old. The Dragon was alive when our great-grandfathers are alive, and has only grown more terrible with each passing year.
2. The Dragon is immense. In terms of sheer scale, no twenty of our men could hope to match it.
3. The Dragon is powerful. In the past, our strongest fighters could hope to drive it back. But they are gone, and the Dragon is still here. Our best weapons cannot hurt it. It does not even notice.
4. The Dragon manipulates nature. Should it desire to, it may call down soothing rains. It is by the will of the dragon that water flows in this land.
5. The Dragon can be fled from. It is large, and it cannot follow into the depths of the forest. But the Dragon is clever. It knows where we sleep. It may seal us in if it wishes, and it may do as it pleases while we rest. When the time comes, it will come while we are at our most vulnerable.
6. The Dragon takes sacrifices. It takes the youngest and strongest of the men, and takes them as its victims. It spares the women and the girls, and it leaves the older men. But there are so few of them, and at the close of each generation, there are but a few who remain.
7. The Dragon shows favorites. Sometimes it admires the brave and foolish, and spares them. Sometimes it prefers those who come to it. But the Dragon is fickle, and we cannot judge the exact nature behind its whims.
8. The Dragon is not alone. There are others like it, though we see less of them. They are no less powerful. Perhaps there are even more.
9. The Dragon controls other beasts. They are not so intelligent or mighty, but their power is greater than the sum of ours nonetheless. If not for the Dragon, they would rampage across the land.
10. The Dragon is a protector. The lesser beasts, which refuse to acknowledge its power, might harass us. When they arrive, it beast them back. When needed, it calls upon magic and flame to annihilate them.
11. The Dragon brings forth food. Some among us say this is for the sake of fattening us up, others that it is a kindness, and others still a simple part of its nature.
12. The Dragon dwells in a strange place, where the natural order is defied. There are lights in the darkness, the air is shifted, and great treasures and strange foods can be found scattered about.
13. The Dragon, it is said - or others like it - is responsible for the very homes we dwell in, in a time long before our distant ancestors. Or perhaps this was a different Dragon, and a people from before even our ancestors.
14. The Dragon is not a god. It is still bound to the rules of the world. It must eat to survive, and it must rest as well. It is an existence above our own, but it is not an all-powerful one. One day it, too, shall die.

Update + Misc. Combat Notes

Work is pretty smooth in hammering out my system, which I've moved to the name Ascalon (a double tribute to St. George and the first Guild Wars, besides the power of "A" in alphabetical listings). The core for everything is pretty much there, but I still need to do a last revision of the bestiary (since this is the coolest and most original part!), and finish up the (supplementary) campaign world book.

The biggest stump is that I originally wanted to use a revised dungeon generator based on Appendix A, but modified to minimize diagonal hallways (both a pain to draw and to map) and to make use of a "throw all of the dice" mechanic (i.e. after you've done it a few times, you can just look at the pile and immediately draw the next part, save for a few niche cases). And while that did work, it's ugly and I don't like it, so I'm using Excel to put together a series of dungeon tiles to package with everything:

Diagonals are even more annoying here.

Of course you can always get dungeon tiles from somewhere online, or even pull out the old TSR ones or something, but I'd rather put everything together as a complete package.

Ultimately the core rules are coming in most part from two sources: either the LBB, or the other LBB (with the optional Traveller-inspired character generation), and with a few more modern things borrowed from ACKS (throw-based attacks and Fighter damage bonuses; the latter for the purpose of Supernatural Hit Dice, the former because it has been the easiest attack/armor mechanic to explain to new players).

I'll mark down here a few of the notes I've pinned down for combat:

Grabbing
I've found that a universal mechanic for grappling is a terrible idea, as evidence by the d20 system and the excessively high bonus numbers required just to give a semblance of realism. I like the Arduin grapple escape table as a way for players to get away from big monsters, and I also rule that in general, there is effectively no chance for even the strongest human Fighter to grapple an elephant or tentacle beast from hell. Which leads to the need for a grapple mechanic of people of two sides.

I tried a few things, and eventually found something that worked smoothly by drawing inspiration from a few atypical source - fighting games, and room-mates practicing BJJ. You'll see it when you read this description:

Conditions to grab: (1) Your character must get in 'close'. (2) You must give up 'first strike' if you have it - grabbing goes last in melee. (3) Your opponent must not hit you. (4) You must succeed on a normal attack throw.

You have options: grapple, pummel, throw, or take-down. Pick one. Fighters of Heroic status or better pick two. Pummeling is a normal fist/dagger attack. Throwing tosses your opponent ~5ft away. Take-down sends them to the ground. Grappling holds them.

In grappling: The PC rolls 1d6 each round. Stronger characters advance 1-3, remain 4-5, fall back on 6. If even, it's 1-2, 3-4, 5-6. If the PC is weaker, it's 1, 2-3, 4-6. Of course, as anyone who has dealt with grappling knows, strength and size mean less and experience means more on the ground - thus, a Fighter-type is considered "even on" against stronger opponents while grappling on the ground. The PC determines what "advancing" is - either trying to escape, or trying to hold.

Grappling positions: Freed, Holding, Pinning, Submitting. Holding means the stronger character may move both up to 10ft (standing) or 5ft (prone). Pinning means neither can move, though the pinning character may deliver unarmed or knife attacks to the pinned. Submission means the submitted character is helpless, and can no longer attempt to escape (submission can happen only if HP falls low enough). Freed means either escape, or turn over - the "freed" characters choice.

For a dog-pile, so long as one potential grappler isn't successfully hit, that's good enough. Each would-be grappler makes an attack throw, and only one needs to hit. For every participant beyond the first, add +1 as an adjustment to d6 throws (thus, a Hero grappled by four Orcs would roll at -4 to the 1d6 check). Super-Heroic characters can be grappled only by characters who are at least Heroic, unless below a certain HP threshold, though lesser sorts may assist a superior sort in a dog-pile.

Whips are special: You can use a whip to grab an opponent from a distance. Unlike a normal grab, a whip grab has 'first strike'; but, if you miss, your opponent gets +4 'to-hit' against you. Whips are kind of stupid but they're pretty cool.


Cleaving/Clearing
I started at one point with allowing multiple damage dice as level advanced, but never found a way that satisfied me or the table as 'sensible' for resolving total damage against one opponent, and total damage overall. It also meant a lot of dice rolling. The ACKS/Arneson mechanic of chopping (cleaving) satisfied as letting Fighters cut through a lot of enemies, and possibly a whole cluster of 0-level sorts in one go, and so I adopted that. The specific variation, in my case, being: You can attack, step forward if you want to, and keep doing it until you fail to kill someone or your kill count equals your level.

This worked well, until the classic old-school problem of 40+ goblins. A lot of dice rolling followed, and each round took far longer than I would have liked. I'm okay with long combats for a purpose, but I prefer those to just be a lot of rounds - not each round taking forever. Eventually, I was directed to a Mornard post on Gygax's solution - just roll a dice, and cut down that many (0-level sorts), no attack roll. So I crunched some numbers, based on the cleaving rule, and found that it was close enough to go with. I'll admit that I don't have play-testing results at the upper bounds, but the numbers suggest these projections to be reasonable:

Fighters of Heroic status may "clear" 1d4 HD of opponents at 1HD or less. This value rises to 1d6 at the 6th Level and 1d8 at the 8th Level, and increases by +1 per each level over the 10th. Super-heroic types add a bonus equal to the "plus" of magical weapons they wield. Fighters can optionally step forward between opponents, to get them all.

Personally, I'd also make special situational bonuses - a Fighter subject to a berserker effect, I might automatically rule as clearing the maximum possible number. But I'd rather not codify that sort of situational thing.

Commentaries on Dave Arneson's True Genius

Like most 20-somethings who don't buy Apple products, I feel physical pain when I spend money on things. But sometimes I do, and the result is usually a foreign music album, training equipment, or a book. In this case, following Mike Mornard's review of the material, I decided to pick up a copy of Dave Arneson's True Genius.

This post is going to be a commentary on thoughts that I had on the material, more-so than it is a review. It'll be a bit easier to understand if you have a copy with you, since I don't want to put in an incessant amount of quotation, nor draw attention away from getting an official copy. You can do that here. I recommend the Media Mail - the leadtime's going to take longer than the delivery anyways, so you're getting diminishing returns on your investment. Of course, it's not like Adam Smith is going to judge you for wanting a book a day earlier, so go ahead if you want.

Review?

If you want a review of the book, follow that link up above to Mornard's. It'll tell you what you need to know before buying.

The only thing that really bothered me is something that he brings up: DATG is riddled with references to Kuntz's unpublished work. There was certainly room for more elaboration - the book is slim enough the mail lady asked if I was picking up photographs. The book has critical academic value, but it's ultimately three essays, and not a full-length text. On the other hand, it does a good job with making A New Ethos in Game Design out to be interesting. If I were in Kuntz's shoes, I would drop the bizarre stance against digital media and release these essays in PDF/epub format about a month leading up to its release. The worst thing that could happen is free advertising for the lengthier work.

Other than that gripe (which can be rendered less distracting if you save the footnotes until a repeat reading), the material is fairly solid overall, which is why I'm writing a post about it. I'll be re-referencing the material as I write this, so my thoughts are going to be a bit scattered about.

Commentary on Essay #1: From Vision to Vicissitude

This is the densest of the three essays by a large amount, and systems are to blame. Well, actually, Rob Kuntz is to be blamed - see, on pg.54, there's a wonderful model comparing a childhood open play model with a war-game closed model. What this essay needed, to alleviate the concerns about this book being dense/academic, would have been a friendly chart on pg.11 visually showing the the pertinent differences between open and closed systems, and perhaps the feedback provided by Arneson's emergent model. Unfortunately there is little of the sort here.

Complaining about what isn't there isn't going to be as productive as commenting on what is there, which is where the next few glorious pages come in, detailing the strides the Arneson made (and what I am supposing to be the backbone of Kunt'z model). This is where we get the first major takeaway: The origin of role-playing games is closer to make-believe than Monopoly. This has led me to make a few conclusions based on the implication:

• The original division of materials in the game, in which only the GM is aware of anything more than the most bare-bones of rules, was the correct one. That there be transparency in this seems reasonable, if only for the sake of impartial judgment; however, where the rules are laid out as strict guidelines, rather than provided as tools, the creates a barrier on the internal human function we call "creativity", and takes the game further from the origin.
• Once the barriers are stripped down and the origin exposed, the open aspect of the system provides itself. There are a lot of GMs who worry about "getting it right" when it comes to subject material, especially when playing with educated people. The incorrect solution is to close off the system and enter into a state of contingencies, where you have the answer readied for every scenario your own limited mind can think of. Rather, all players at the table are in full awareness to their options being open, the same intuition presented by children in make-believe will lead to an adult using.
• To maintain the opening of the mind, created by this link to the origin, the GM must be able to respond this awakening: Solutions proposed must be acted upon in a fair and impartial manner, and without ulterior method. This creates the most blatant rebuke against even the mildest and most well-intended forms of cheating and fudging: Should the GM act in a manner to "help out" his favorite baddie, or turn down an entirely valid solution simply because it would bypass an obstacle, he is closing off a stream of external input to satisfy his own interests. The game at this point ceases to truly be collaborative.
• This same principle offers a rebuke against the idea of railroading. Viewed under this lens, the railroad is a cast of the GM essentially sealing the game world off from all influences, save for those which are specifically desired. Again, this is not longer a true collaboration, and has strayed from the origin of what makes role-playing games fun.

To give a literary example of creativity in action, when I was still a kid, I was quite struck by the ingenuity of Cyrus Harding in Verne's The Mysterious Island. Remember that experiment in high school Physics where you take a meter-stick and some basic trig to figure out a person's height? Congrats, you can solve for the height of a cliff. Now, how many game-books include rules for finding cliff height? Or trigonometry? Probably not many. On the one hand, this proposes an untapped niche in education market just begging to be exploited. On the other hand, it's a pretty simple example of applying outside knowledge to solve a problem. Of course, in play, the GM might just fiat away the entire inspection and say "it's a 250ft cliff" without further details, but we're not going to get a contract from Pearson if we keep thinking like that.

With regards to principles like fudging and railroad, it's worth mention that there are those who defend these activities, so long as they are restrained. And there's a three-letter word that gets brought up quite a lot when talking about this.

Yep, that three letter word.

Here's a question: Why do some people enjoy being in a game that's railroaded, when the concept as a whole is known to be bad? Cop-out answer: Those people are dumb and can't play right. But what if we apply systems thinking to this? Let's have at it: Imagine a yellow submarine, full of little people that live in it. This yellow submarine is our game world, and the people PCs, NPCs, and monsters. Information flows in and out of the system through a series of access ports.

Yes, this model is a gross oversimplification, but it's enough to make the point. Let's consider a game near its "origin": In this case, the players state what they wish to do. The GM offers up results based on the rules of the game, as well as the "common sense" of the scenario. The railroad is different: The provision of input is the same, but here, the outcome is either predetermined, or else narrowed down. One can compare, in the most basic form, the concept of the quantum ogre.

The "origin" scenario is free flow of information overseen by the invisible neck hand of the GM. Child-like wonder like make-believe, but with responsive structures to accompany it, and give a sense of there being an actual "game" with some sort of stakes. The free flow is important, because it means when one play reads an article on animal husbandry, he might actually propose a use for it in the game world. Quite unlike a game of Catan, where all the farming knowledge in the world won't make you roll that damn 11 any more often.

The railroad by definition invalidates input by predetermining input. If possible inputs are "A" to "Z" but only "A" to "D" are accepted, then if the players suggest "E" to "Z", there will likely be disappointment. But it's a little more complex: Besides "E" to "Z", you also cut off all possibilities which stem from there. Further, when players realize output doesn't match input, their input will change as a result - whether it's "following the story" or "rejecting the railroad".

But what if the railroad the GM created was the optimal solution? What if the input was perfectly in sync? What if this well-prepared GM, having been so meticulous, was actually more responsive? We don't even need to make steps this extreme - even slight cases of "illusion of freedom" can come up here. And the lighter shades of this scenario are where we can drive the truth behind the railroad - as well as why, ultimately, it's still an inferior option.

We can therefore point out the real problem with the railroad:

• At its best, railroading fails to prepare a GM for refereeing unexpected input.
• At its worst, railroading invalidates the choices of all players at the table.
• In all scenarios, railroading is deceptive in its degree of how open the system is.

So yes: It is possible to have a "good" session or campaign was the heavily railroaded. But we can also show in plain terms why it is a sub-optimal option, even then.

We've gone on a pretty long tangent about railroads, so let's go back to the essay. I can't add a lot more commentary to the rest, because it's mostly recollection. I wasn't there, I don't have the full information, I don't have to contribute. The contradictory Gygax quotes are a fairly long-standing joke online, so seeing those laid out nicely is funny in its own way (I think a few forum posts from Gygax in his later years might have served to reinforce the point a bit more, or even a few personal quotes). For the person interested in the history of and/or early drama within the hobby, this section is definitely a juicy one. I remember reading before that Kuntz had a near-perfect memory, and his recollection of things supports that.

Just before the closing of the essay, Kuntz talks a bit about the direction of the hobby. And here I might have a few disagreements. The relevant quotation:

"In due course the design tenets/philosophies of the original game, now ignored, faded against an immense and growing foreground of TSR doing the imagining and creating of pre-determined/pre-structured scenarios for the consumer. The sustained promulgation of this disposable and repeatable model caused all but scattered remains of the original RPG philosophy it was then forming to be lost. This 180 degree reversal abruptly issued in the Formula RPG experience that persists to this very day as a strictly close form expression; and this was (and still is) a direct, and glaring, contradiction to the genius of its original manifestations: First Fantasy Campaign and the commercially successful Classic Dungeons & Dragons." (Kuntz 30)

The reason I "might" have a disagreement, is because of a lack of clarification on what exactly "Formula RPGs" entails. The most narrow definition I conclude, and which I suspect is correct, is a criticism of modules, adventure paths, and other pre-made content. This is an entirely valid criticism, and remains the most consistent with the rest of the text.

But in the context given, I also get the sense that Kuntz is targeting the market for selling new rules-texts, especially with regards to TSR and now WotC. This is an interpretation that doesn't mesh with his praise of individual GMs constructing their own game worlds, and their own rules. Is it okay do so, as long as you don't publish it for money?

I see rules like a coding library: Yes, you could come up with that dirt-simple encumbrance system on your own, but that doesn't mean you should when someone already did. This also holds true at the company level - assuming a game design studio play-tests a bunch of alternate rules everyone thinks would be cool, why not put them out as a bundle? You run the risk of getting something like Unearthed Arcana published, sure, but as long as you're upfront about things being optional - and that the core rules themselves are optional - then it's tools, in the same fashion as new monsters, geomorphs, or other products meant to provide more material.

Of course, all of this is a "might", and I'm fairly sure my initial interpretation is closer to what he was getting at - I don't seen any criticisms levied against Supplement I ~ III, both of which expanded on the core rules; if this was a problem, I think it would have been specifically addressed.

Commentary on Essay #2: Dimensionality in Design

Looking at the back cover blurb, this feels like it should be the most important of the three essays. I can't say I disagree with what's written, and the points made are valid. But having read over it a couple of times, the strongest feeling I have here is: "Yes, and?"

Let me explain: There is a major emphasis on this section (and indeed, it pervades the book in general) on Arneson's ideas as having been quickly bounded by the system of D&D, marketed, and then effectively stunted up to this day. Kuntz argues that there is a Garden of Eden emergence which can be found if we can back-track to Arneson's core idea, and then from there, dig one further step down the line. This as-of-yet unseen Eden could be used to open an entirely new step in the field of game design. I am not convinced, based on the material he provides, that there is a further step down the line - or to be more precise, that it's a step is immediately relevant to game design.

Picture a group of primitive hunter-gatherers. The chief has a poor opinion of one of the hunters, because he has his enormous mole on the back of his neck that just gets really distracting, and so he keeps making that guy act as the bait when they go hunting. Now, the hunter is quite annoyed, and brings this up in a meeting - why is it almost always him that gets the worst job, when he's a perfectly fine hunter in his own right? The rest of the group supports him (he's brave enough to keep staring down wild animals, after all), the chief gets worried about his own position, and the group decides to put together a "fair" system - pulling sticks to see who gets the crappy spot.

Expand this further, and you have a basic human characteristic: Organizing things. Building structures. Trying to make it all sensible, or at least, somewhat sensible. Why are house-rules needed? Because dammit, people want things to make sense to them - either sense in terms of realism, or sense in terms of ease of play at the table. This is where I believe the core actually lies - the interplay between human imagination, and human structure. In other words, the fundamental action of creating something. What role-playing games create is fictional and fleeting, but it is an act of creation nonetheless - and in this aspect, they have something in common with nearly all human activities, be it writing a novel, building a bird-box, or creating civilization.

Did Arneson create something new? Yes. That's something worth praising. Is there something a bit deeper than that? Yes. Does it have something to do with game design? I don't believe that it does. Kuntz has had a lot longer to think on this, so perhaps he might have done it - found that hidden root, and whatever undiscovered genres of games are buried away. But I don't see a path to that in digging through Arneson - rather, it strikes me as more important to celebrate the fact that a man who had such a strong spark of creativity was able to share it.

Commentary on Essay #3: Debunking the Chainmail/Braunstein Myth

In contrast to the earlier sections, there's not to much to comment on here - the points made so far give way to the final conclusion, that the FFC was an original idea, and not just a derivative of something else. Essay #2 sets up the backbone for this, in its assessment of Arneson as the original creator of the idea; and though I have disagreed with the asserted implications, the core idea is one that seems quite solid. This was something novel, the work of a genius. Following this, we get an appendix of quotations, more previewing of the upcoming book, and a neat afterword. It's worth reading over, but again, there's not much to comment on - or, rather, I'll hold of any further comments until we get the complete work.

Some closing thoughts: Reading through this, I am left wondering what thoughts Kuntz holds in relation to the other styles of role-playing which have emerged. Where does a game like Amber Diceless hold in perspective to this? the assorted one-page RPGs that you can find floating around all over the internet? foreign RPGs born with very different logic and influences?

Let's use Ryuutama as an example here. I'll take the pertinent points about the game, beyond just the basic mechanics, which are either in contrast to OD&D, or in contrast to most story-games. These are almost direct copy-pastes from the official web-site:

• UNLIKE OD&D: The game makes use of the principle of shared world creation. Every player at the table contributes before the campaign begins, and not just after.
• UNLIKE STORY-GAMES: The game makes it entirely possible to fail. The players possess little in the way of mechanics-only methods (fate points, etc.) to escape a bad situation. Your party can get wiped by anything from monsters to the weather. Progression is tangibly tracked based on each action.
• UNLIKE OD&D: There is an emphasis on telling stories. The initial investment into your character is expected to be a lot higher, though the time to create one is still quite short.
• UNLIKE STORY-GAMES: The game actually makes use of traditional functions like caller or mapper as major role.
• UNLIKE EITHER: The GM has a hidden character, with a character sheet, that remains off-screen and makes small adjustments to help out the players. The more games run, the more XP this character gains, and the more that can be done.
• LIKE BOTH: The game has its own rules, but emphasizes the importance of fiat, rather than standardization; each campaign is its own, stand-alone thing, and the GM is encouraged to make adjustments beyond the scope of the rules as needed.

Effectively, you have a game that straddles the boundary between a game of exploration and adventure, and a game for making stories. What sort of appraisal does a game like this deserve? It seems unfair to dismiss simply on account of being lengthier - especially when we consider a game not designed around the idea of supplements, monster books, or any future material other than what the buyer comes up with themselves. Similarly, the most immediately damning feature in reference to ye olden days - references to contemporary video game mechanics and tropes - seems misplaced when considering the original target audience is people who have likely never played a TTRPG (besides perhaps Call of Cthulhu), let alone even heart of a war-game. The kids back then had John Carter, the kids nowadays have Legend of Zelda.

Well, that all said: There's a sentiment from Kuntz that things in the hobby are not doing so well. If we're talking the broadest picture - which is Wizards of the Coast, and their 5th Edition of D&D - then yes, things do seem to have strayed in what is an overall bad direction. But the internet has been a wonderful tool in promoting other ideas, as well as new materials and new takes on older material and older ideas. And of course, there's still people - even younger people - who make use of what once was rather that what is now. So while criticism of the wrongs is appropriate, I see room to be optimistic about where things are going.

That's all the thoughts I've had. If anyone comes passing by that's taken a look, I'd be interested to know what other's thought about it.

Music

Here's a completely original statement - music is a great source for inspiration.

Okay so maybe not an original statement, but everyone has there own things that really set their mind turning. I was thinking, while I was doing some writing, just how important what it was that I was drawing inspiration from was. I wanted to toss some things out.

Starting with something a little higher class - nothing stands out more to me for science-fiction than classical music. This is obviously the most pronounced for the space opera and even hard sci-fi, but it spreads into other things as well. For whatever reason, electronic or synthetic music tends to come across as too on-the-nose once your setting is in the sea of stars. Mahler specifically was apparently a favorite for the LotGH music editors, so I've gotten to hear quite a bit of his work through that.

I would have to say that fantasy almost goes in the opposite direction twice in this regard. Perhaps its out of an appreciation for the more gonzo material, but I'm quite fond of anachronistic, electronic sounds when dwelling on fantasy materials, almost as much as I appreciate folk music. But what really makes me "feel it" is blending those elements together. Kaoling, the composer/song-writer whose album cross-fade is up there, stands out quite strong in that regard. Her Vocaloid tracks (like The Wind Extolling Freedom) might not stand out as well for those not as accustomed to the pitch, but the compositions are stellar.

More in the same vein as the above. The previous was a Japanese producer who likes to use a made-up language (seemingly based a little on Welsh) for harmonies in Celtic music. Here's Celtic music from a Chinese (or Chinese-Canadian) producer with Japanese lyrics over it. Whatever else globalization has brought us, it does wonders when you're talking about our species-wide mutual appreciation for music.

Jeremy Soule gets a lot of praise for his musical work, with TES as a series being one of the most notable in the video games (though I'd say the original Guild Wars was some of his best work). But when it comes to actually running things at the table, the older games in the series are the ones that really stand out in this regard. If I know that Skeletons are going to be coming out, I make a strong point of keeping their Daggerfall sound-files on standby.

The only music allowed on Halloween (designated night for one-shots where the maps are drawn side-view instead of overhead) is music from Castlevania.

"Arthurian legends", "folk music", and "Heather Dale" all tie pretty close together for me. There's other artists in the folk genre, but her specific niche aligns perfectly with my personal interests. The occasional SCA song helps brings back childhood memories, too (I'll probably never forget that damn rooster song the camp bard used to play while all the adults were smirking at us).

I have to imagine that power/symphonic metal is one of the most known of genres in the fantasy gaming community. I have no citations for that but it strikes me as likely. Bringing it up doesn't really highlight anything new, but I would have to say that anyone who enjoys the genre should check out the Unknown Power Metal channel. It's a good way to sample a lot of smaller bands, with tracks ranging from Middle Earth FRP to LotFP in terms of intensity.

It's hard to talk about strongly evocative music without bringing up the progressive rock genre. Though a track like Grendel has an obvious fantastical connotation - and I really love this song - there's a lot of things that can be found. Lamb might not have made it to the silver screen, but I have to imagine that a worthy adventure layout could be made out of it. Though I'd be hard pressed to convey a good Slipperman voice without permanently damaging my throat in the process, so maybe it's not the wisest idea.

Dragon's Dogma (which is also an excellent game) has a great soundtrack full of bits and pieces that make good table-use. There's only a few tracks I would mix in for just the listening (Coils of Light for easier listening, as an example - and that's not even an instrumental!), but the individual bits and pieces? Almost all great for playing in the background. I'd worry a bit if some of the fight tracks weren't a bit too 'exciting' to pull out at every turn, but the above track is almost synonymous with Griffon in my mind.

And then there's dungeon synth. Great for the table, great for reading, great for the workplace. While this isn't a comprehensive list of things that I bring up for inspiration, it's a pretty good sample, and this track makes a great conclusion. If there were any big takeaways I could give from here, as in "most obscure thing relative to the hypothetical reader of this post" it would probably be Kaoling, whose works have been one of the biggest contributors for the last month or so to the music I keep playing near constantly. The workout playlist is another matter.

Backgrounds, and also a Name Change

I didn't like the former name for the blog, so I went with a change, since it's still so early in the process. This should do a better job of reflecting the FRP theme. So I think that's pretty cool.

Game Related

In terms of game projects, my normal gaming session is current subject to a hiatus. Which means that as far as game materials are concerned, all there's been to do has been to write. One of the major sub-projects that came up recently was trying to make a better background generation method. Here are a few points guiding me:

• Even a 1st Level Fighter is a Veteran. Even a 1st Level character has already seen some shit, and spent a good part of their life training to that point.
• Following the above, rolling for a background should not look like rolling on a list of professions. The class of a character already informs their professional skills. Further skills should reflect those learned during that path of career progression.
• No skill sub-systems. Therefore, whatever "skills" are noted should be things that can be described in under a sentence and have minor impacts on the game, if they do anything at all.
• The material needs to be randomized and supplementary to basic character generation. It should be an optional element of a game system.

The closest thing to emulating a number of these features is the Traveller character generation method (specifically CT in this case, what with the whole old-school theme) - something that can be tacked on with the same ease as making three or four extra rolls (little more than determining starting cash) while also being easily expanded upon. Since there isn't a statistic for social class built into the D&D style of character generation, I've determined to instead patch in a modification of the Arduin background generation. The whole project still needs to be smoothed over a lot more, but a copy of the work so far is pasted here.

Besides this, I've been cleaning up the main game rules document and refining the classes. The linked CryptPad file lists what appears to be a lot of classes, but thats's a bit of a misnomer. What I've been doing instead is working with the framework used to create kits in 2E to generate sub-classes that trade offer up certain advantages or restrictions from the standard classes. I wouldn't say that they're inherently balanced, but I think that's okay (if you rolled that Charisma 17 and can put up with being committed to the Church and Crown, you deserve a freebie, Paladin). It has the additional perk of allowing "race as sub-class" which removes the need for a section on race selection and firmly frames the game as "majority human" while requiring less tables and being more flexible than "race as class". Hurrah for simple solutions!

Non-Game Related

I'll have to add Ergo Proxy to my list of top shows (both television and animated) - and probably no less than top five when it comes to that. I worry a bit going into shows like it because of the risk of entering into the "2deep4u" problem. It's not an accusation that worries me a great deal, simply considering that quite often, shows get that label without really deserving it, especially when you start looking into the psychological genre. That's not the case here - so long as you pay attention, even the most ridiculous episodes or scenes can be puzzled out within a few minutes. It manages to have a few exciting action sequences, but this never where the highlight is, and only come across as the occasional bonus. One other thing of note is that rather than being the typical child character tossed in by some lazy writer as way to make the plot happen by screwing things up, Pino ended up as my new benchmark for 'well written child character' in media.

Ironic that the AutoRiev ends up more of a real girl than some child actors.

The only problem is that it's hard to talk about the show without giving away something. There's a reason the OP for the show doesn't kick in until a few episodes into the series, and even by that point, it still gives information away (in theory - this will be viewer dependent). It's a strong work in the psychological and science-fiction genres, and if you know a bit of philosophy or religion, you'll get a few extra bonuses along the way. As for where this intersects with gaming - the middle episodes provide a lot of great examples for encounters that go outside the normal 'monster with a statblock', and it's hard not to feel the gears in your head turning when you see a lot of the show's setpieces and technology.

Cath Palug

I got to use Shock Bones (of Arduin fame) about eight months ago. That was a fun experiment - Monsters that violate "the rules" of what is expected are always fun. Therefore I wanted to go ahead and create something that continued that theme in my own system, while still also remaining true to it in a rather twisted way. This was how the Cath Palug came about.

Close enough?

I love the really old Arthurian stories, where random monsters just roam the countryside, because of course they do. The whole thing is about as old-school as you can get - not just the whole knights and jousting thing that gets pointed out, but the general wildness of things, the tangibility of Law and Chaos, and the fact that sometimes people give birth to killer cats, because of course they do. In some versions it's even a king-killing cat, but let's ignore the French.

There's not a lot defined about the thing, and compared to other monsters, the Cath Palug is fairly maligned in terms of its modern adaptations. Except for the Japanese. So that, plus a few things, was what fed into the design of this monster:

CATH PALUG
Movement (hasted-Unarmored + Swim)
SHD 6 (threshold: 7+)
AC (Plate&Shield + 2)
damage: 1d8
IN 7+
DX 17
Morale 9
Chaotic

Massive, black-furred cats. Build is leonine, with an extensive man stretching down its back and terminating in a large, surprisingly fluffy horse-like tail. The rear feet are cloven hooves, while curling horns are marked upon its head. Approximately 650lb in weight.

These monsters are attracted to magical energy, and are capable of detecting it (120ft range). Preferred lairs will rest on ley-lines, and some may serve as familiars to Chaotic Wizards. Fully aquatic and terrestrial. Being man-eaters, they will prefer to lurk near waterways and rise from the depths for their attacks.

Cath Palug subtract the 'plus' from the damage-die of magical weapons used against them (exception: Monster-killing weapons will inflict normal damage). They will absorb and dispel magic on contact: +1 SHD per die of magical damage taken (or +1 SHD per Spell Level, if this value is higher). SHD may exceed the base value of 6. On the other hand, these creatures are vulnerable to Holy Swords: The presence of one within 30ft strips excess SHD at a rate of 1/round, and prevents further absorption. When SHD are presently in excess of the base, the Cath Palug will begin to glow. The degree is based on present SHD:

• 7-8: Trailing red lines of magical power. Damage: d8+1
• 9-10: Glowing red mist of magical power, with blue trails. Damage: d8+2. Absorbs spells cast within 10ft before 'release'.
• 11-12: Red silhouette of a large creature overhead; blue mist, with white trails. Damage: d10+3, gain "Fly" speed at hasted-Unarmored speed. Spell absorb extends to 30ft.
• 13+: Brilliant red and blue lights as a dominating silhouette over the creature, with long white trails of magical energy. Size increases with increasing SHD. Damage: d10+4, gain "Fly" speed (as above), gain breath weapon (as red dragon breath; damage as 'magic missile'; 4 damage per SHD; reduces SHD by 1 per use). Spell absorb extends to 60ft.

These monsters are clever enough to understand their own abilities: They will feign injury when struck with magical attacks, pretending to attempt flight, but coming back to harass when possible to bait out assault. They will rely upon their natural resistance to normal weapons to feign invulnerability, all the better to draw in attacks.

Cath Palug reduced to below 6 SHD will 'save themselves' by reducing in size and attack ability. This requires about 1 month - the smallest variant, of the 1 HD variety, is the size of a small dog. It takes 2-5 rounds to grow in size, once sufficient magical power has been gathered. It is otherwise possible to encounter a Cath Palug which has already amassed magical power.

(Note: SHD follow the rules outlined a few posts earlier.)

The Cath Palug is a magic-eater. Parties that are not attentive to details, which hammer on magical attacks, will meet a poor end. The ideal solution is actually quite simple: Fighters with regular, unenchanted steel, and a lot of perseverance. Stripped of its unique defense and stuck at 6 SHD, the Cath Palug is still decently resilient, but a lot weaker (especially in the intelligence and spell-use departments) than a comparable Demon. On the other hand, this thing will shred careless wizards, in no small part thanks to the 'spell absorb' function at higher SHD.

If I have a problem with this, it's that, much like the 'True Troll', it's the sort of monster that doesn't really do well in negotiations - encounters are going to be about fight or flight. Combine that with the water-dwelling aspect, and the latter can be quite difficult. In this regard, I'd pin it to a territory, and scatter all sorts of warnings around the periphery to telegraph. Having it as the sole hostile wandering monster in an area is another way to go about that.

Trolls

Three Hearts and Three Lions is a damn good book and I'm ashamed of myself for not reading it until this past January. Most people doing old-school gaming who haven't read it have no doubt at least heart of it, if for no reason other than its influence on the original Paladin class, and perhaps more importantly, the loathsome and rubbery Troll of D&D.

There's a few things to take away from the Troll fight as it happens in the book. To begin with, the regeneration of the Troll is not simply knitting up wounds: If anything, it's closer to a scene from The Thing. Each part of the troll is independently dangerous; each cell is actively doing everything it can to kill you. Cut off the head of most monsters, and you take away an attack; cut off the arm of the troll, and it keeps coming after you. Most things are dead when the belly gets cut open; for the troll, the entrails will keep flailing at you. The book doesn't go quite so far, but you wouldn't be surprised if even the blood started trying to kill you.

It's an worthwhile note that "Troll" means a lot  of things, to the point of being essentially a non-descriptor for fantastical or mythological humanoid of European origin. "Giant-type" enemies? Troll would be more accurate, were it not for the "True Trolls". This in mind, the enemy type classified as a "Troll" in my home games is a varied bunch, with each one being a bit different in terms of look, and personality. To give a system neutral stat sheet:

Troll, Move (Leather), AC (Chain), HD 7+7, dmg:1d10+1, M7; sunlight hardens (Move as Plate, AC Plate+6); regenerate 3hp/round beginning 3 rounds after damage (1hp/round in sunlight); trolls slain in sunlight turn to statues forever, but otherwise regenerate from death in 2-5 hours unless set aflame; scared of lightning and goats

This is fundamentally normal, with the exception of the folklore-inspired sunlight rule. The main key is in terms of looks: Of the two met by the party, both were large but dull humanoids; one was a mostly friendly bridge guard, while the other was a savage flesh-eater they had to put down (closer to a troll from Tolkien, in this case). In the same dungeon as they second was a third, hairy sort, but it was never encountered.

Here's the thing: In most cases, regeneration as I tend to run it has its limits. You go down to 0 HP, and that's the end of the line. The common troll can heal quickly, yes, but if you club its head down enough, you can render it helpless while you light it ablaze. Limbs can be reattached, or they can regrow over time, but they don't fight on their own. In some strange fashion, there is a "core" to most sorts - be it the heart, the liver, the brain, or a magic ring.

Out of this sort of common logic I introduced - in this case, to a group who for the most part have little experience outside of his campaign - the "True Troll" for the first time just this past weekend. Some mechanical notes here:

• Being run under the OD&D type of logic, most creatures in my games have only one attack per round (exceptions: Hydra, Chimera, certain Demons, etc.). The True Troll, true to its literary origin, gets the full three attacks of an AD&D sort - damage as d6, d6, and d8.
• This rule for multiple attacks operates so long as the thing has sufficient ability to operate - including attacking from severed limbs.
• Being reduced to 0 HP doesn't mean jack - Until the thing is brought down and on fire, its going to keep attacking. Cursed wounds (non-healing) bringing it to max HP value will shut down the brain (replaces its d8 with another d6), and to negative max HP will put all parts down, until the curse eventually wears off.
• No possibility of a positive reaction roll. No chance of morale failure. This is an actual monster in all senses of the word, not a thing to negotiate with (a rare thing in my games).

So the game began. The fight began quite simple - in terms of treatment, it was essentially a random encounter against a hostile thing. Roll attacks, get damage. The party had learned from prior dealings with things that regenerate, and the Chaotic Priest put curses on the Fighter's weapons to make them more efficient in the fight. Some high damage rolls. Things looked pretty good. Then things started to go in a different direction. Some highlights (chosen, as each of these was a point where the player of the Human Fighter gave an indication of alarm, confusion or disgust):

• The Human Fighter severed the Troll's arm. In appropriate fashion, the arm immediately began to attack him
• Caving in the head stopped the body for about 1 round: Once the whole went down, the stomach burst open, and the things intestines began to hold the thing up while swatting at anyone that came close.
• The other arm attempted to tear itself free from the body once the whole got set on fire, but it wasn't quite fast enough.
• The Chaotic Priest attempted to have a zombie minion pin the arm down. It gave a bit of a delay, enough to get the arm tossed in the fire - when they flipped it over, though, they found the zombie ripped apart; the skin on the arm had unraveled, and its muscles spread out like a flower around the bone, where they hardened and shredded the zombie apart from below.
• The spilled blood formed up into a pile, and continued the fight once the rest of the monster was finally put down - hardening into sharped "knife-whips" to strike anyone coming close.

The battle ended with the party exhausted and badly damaged, the zombie put down, and a general sentiment of both "that was cool" and "never want to fight one of those again". Of course, the treasure was pretty nice too (they ran into the Troll while ransacking its lair, and had a vested interest in killing it to keep the goods instead of just running away), so overall things ended in a striking success. After all, in a game where exploration and talking are more rewarding than a fight, you have to find some way to make every round engaging - but sometimes, more than just exciting.

What really sold this fight was the dice rolls. For the first few rounds, the party rolled amazingly well, and I rolled relatively poorly; The result was what seemed to be an utterly one-sided gang up. The rest of the fight was the complete reverse, which combined with the casual body horror almost matched 1:1 to the "beat" of the original literature. I don't fudge the dice, and encounters like this are where I get to see the ultimate payoff of that decision.

The moral of the story is this: Source material is a great way to get inspired for your game sessions; John Carpenter movies, doubly so. Combine the two and you've got a lot to go off of.

Charisma

This post was prompted in response to the discussion on Tao of D&D in the last few days - What does it mean to have Charisma at a certain value? How do we view it from the perspective of the game? How does it reflect on the real world?

The first step is to establish what Charisma actually means. For an initial glance we can look to Men & Magic to get this excerpt:

Charisma is a combination of appearance, personality, and so forth. Its primary function is to determine how many hirelings of unusual nature a character can attract. This is not to say that he cannot hire men-at-arms and employ mercenaries, but the charisma function will affect loyalty of even these men. Players will, in all probability, seek to hire Fighting-Men, Magic-Users, and/or Clerics in order to strengthen their roles in the campaign. A player-character can employ only as many as indicated by his charisma score. In addition the charisma score is usable to decide such things as whether or not a witch capturing a player will turn him into a swine or keep him enchanted as a lover. Finally, the charisma will aid a character in attracting various monsters to his service.

AD&D PHB:

Charisma is the measure of the character's combined physical attractiveness, persuasiveness, and personal magnetism. A generally non-beautiful character can have a very high charisma due to strong measures of the other two aspects of charisma. It is important to all characters, as it has an effect on dealings with others, principally non-player characters, mercenary hirelings, prospective retainers, and monsters. It absolutely dictates the total number of henchmen a character is able to retain. It affects loyalty of all hirelings and retainers. It is the key to leadership.

And finally, the AD&D DMG:

Many persons have the sad misconception that charisma is merely physical attractiveness. This error is obvious to any person who considers the subject with perceptiveness. Charisma is a combination of physical appearance, persuasiveness, and personal magnetism. True charisma becomes evident when one considers such historic examples of Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonoparte, and Adolf Hitler. Obviously, these individuals did not have an 18 score on physical beauty, so it is quite possible to assume that scores over 18 are possible, for any one of the named historical personalities would have had a higher charisma score - there can be no question that these individuals were 18's - if they would have had great attractiveness as well as commanding personal magnetism and superb persuasiveness.

Cursory overview of these descriptions shows two things: One, that Gygax only considered appearance to be only of a multitude of factors in determining Charisma; two, he felt that the majority of players had the impression reversed, and considered it the most important factor. So great was his exasperation that he later saw fit to present Comeliness as a seventh ability score in UA.

How much of an impact should appearance have? We can see a bit of Gygax's idea by taking a glance at the correlation between Charisma and Comeliness. It is important her to consider that this seventh stat was added into the game with the intention of being retroactively applied; thus, rather than Charisma being influenced by Comeliness, the reverse applies. To point: CHA 18 indicates +5 to Comeliness. This is enough to put the "average" human of Charisma 18 at a rate of 15, which is deemed as 'good looking'. Many will be beautiful, but far from all. There are beautiful people with a piddling Charisma of 10, though they are the extreme rare (unless we take the 3d6 bell curve as representative of the entire population, and not as representative to adventuring groups). Of course, this is all merely a glance at what Gygax thought seemed reasonable - he never used Comeliness in his home games, and I don't plan on doing so either.

The point in all of this is that while I find Alexis' presentation interesting, I find that it puts too much emphasis on the 'presence' and appearance of the characters in question. I would instead find it instead worth putting more focus on the other components. Taking into account both those factors presented, as well as the mechanical influences, we can pin these to:

• Physical Appearance
• Personal Magnetism
• Persuasiveness
• Overall Personality
• Leadership Ability

I would make a rather common addition - and I have in regards to my own games - and that is the factor of ego; in other words, the sheer force of 'self' that a character maintains. This factor cannot be subsumed under a physical ability score; likewise, Intelligence and Wisdom are distinct from this factor. On the other hand, it fits cleanly into the realm of personality, and in this manner Charisma. But we'll get further into that, further down the line.

Consider the Paladin. Why must a Paladin have a score of 17 Charisma? Does the church only select beautiful people to represent them? It's an amusing thought, but not a reasonable one. It's not an unreasonable suggestion that Charlemange's Paladins were all good looking - but they're not the ones Gygax was basing the class on. That would be Holger Carlsen, from Three Hearts and Three Lions. What does he look like?

His physique was a different matter. He was gigantic, six feet four and so broad in the shoulders he didn't look his height. He'd played football, of course, and could have starred on his college team if his studies hadn't taken too much time. His face was of the rugged sort, square, with high chekbones, cleft chin, a slightly dented nose, yellow hair and wide-set blue eyes. Give better technique, by which I mean less worry about hurting their feelings, he could have cute a swathe through the local femininity. But as it was, that slight shyness probably kept him from more than his share of such adventures. All in all, Holger was a nice average guy, what was later called a good Joe.

Here is the imagined many of (minimum) Charisma 17. I don't think it would be inaccurate to match this description as being "attractive"; during his adventures in the Other World, he certainly doesn't have any problems attracting feminine attention. It might be argued that his Charisma is suffering a temporary deficit for lack of his full memories, and that might be a fair assessment. But where is this deficit? No failures show in his actions in the story, in any of these areas.

His behavior is worth considering: Contrary to the meme conception of the Paladin as a hack-and-slash baby grinder that "SMITES EVIL" and spams detect evil in every direction... Holger really is genuinely a "good Joe". He helps people out when they request it, even if it means going out of his way to do so. Even when dealing with the Elves, Giant, Werewolf, Nixie, and other agents of Chaos, his initial reaction isn't to go in slashing away - he thinks carefully, negotiates first whenever possible, and only puts down enemies when they prove an immediate and severe threat. His first thought is always towards protecting others; nevertheless, his group follows him with absolute faith, despite only this short time together. Intellect comes first and foremost.

The response from people? They're drawn to him. Strangers are willing to stand up for him against their own lord. He engages with the common folk easily, despite his status as stranger in a strange world. The feelings aren't of fear - they're feelings of inspiration. This is only amplified by his status as the Knight with "Three Hearts and Three Lions" - in other words, by how people know him as being of the Paladin nature.

When we otherwise look at the fiction which informed D&D, what else do we see? John Carter is in the same boat as Holger Carlsen - His appearance is handsome, though not an exceptional case, but he draws people to him in other manners - through his strength of arms, reputation, and exceptionally strong force of personality (the sort that permits him to continually challenge the world around him, and inevitably change it for the better). On Earth he's another soldier; on Barsoom, where he truly belongs, he's Warlord. Conan develops to be much the same as he advances through his adventuring career, becoming someone people are inspired to follow in his time as King. The former is marked as "18" in Giants of the Earth; the latter is marked at "17" in Supplement IV and varies from "15" to "18" by age in Gygax's wonky Conan article. Unlike the others listed thus far, Conan is extremely attractive. He also lives in a world where you can't throw a rock without hitting a beautiful girl, though, so he's more or less a special case.

Charisma 18

What about more recently written works? The immediate example that comes to mind - perhaps to the point of being a meme in its own right - is Griffith. I'd pitch in Reinhard von Lohengramm (pictured) as a personal favorite for the "Charisma 18" crowd. This is besides the point of Charisma, but the Church Knights of the Belgariad (the main cast, at least - there's a lot of them) are my definitive "Paladin" examples - and what I'm going to personally consider when I imagine a character of Charisma 17 (pinning Martel as the 18 of the series - and potentially the Princess Ehlanna as well, considering both her talents in social manipulation and her outstanding beauty). I'm not touching ASOIAF until the damn series is finished, so I'll get back with musings on that pop culture phenomena in a few decades.

So far we've covered over some examples of high Charisma in action, as well as a breakdown of its component factors. There is one last point that needs to be covered here - the implied setting of the D&D, and what that tells us.

First and foremost - (LBB) D&D does not assume medieval fantasy. It's medieval flavor draped over a heavily Americanized ideal of the world. Distances between settlements are enormous. The wilderness is an unexplored place - not an evil place, but an untamed one. In perhaps the most American sentiments possible, weapons are pretty easily accessible, and there's an absurd amount of gold floating around. This is the wild west with elves and wizards and trash. The lords aren't a prim and pampered nobility; they're unruly, independent knights. Mercenaries are all over. Peasants are rugged frontier folks ready to take up arms and revolt because someone looked at them funny. To top it off - unless you're playing AD&D by the book, the women are just as bad as the men! And since this is all swords & sorcery, they must all be attractive unless otherwise convenient to the story.

Mama has a 4-5pt unarmed strike. Do you really wanna risk the belt?

This is the optimistic viewing. You could take a more "realistic" view, but I don't think medieval is the right direction - you still need open expanses for monsters all over, relatively isolated lords, and a lot of suffering. Welcome to pre-20th century Russian flavored fantasy. To get an idea for what I'm thinking of here, I'd go with Dead Souls as the ideal model (and the premise of an amazing adventure hook, if applied in this sort of setting); Gogol's bleak depiction of Russia, and its eccentric cast of nobility, is stellar.

(as an aside: Bringing up Russian literature - the titular character from A Hero of Our Time, Pechorin, is another great literary example of a figure with high Charisma; in this case, one who is particularly misanthropic.)

Both of these scenarios have a characteristic in common - The men of high and low station are both alike, either in their virtue or in their vices. They are blessed together, or they are damned together. Considering that D&D is inherently built around the idea of advancement, the former makes more sense, but I can imagine ways to bend the latter as well. The former makes no allowances for common-folk being cowed - though to be manipulated or motivated are separate matters. The latter makes no stipulations for 'beautiful' people in the least, with Charisma instead being marked by how well a person can manipulate his way out of the worst parts of his awful life.

Ultimately, all of this is going to be more-or-less campaign specific. The sort of fiction you're attempting to emulate is going to determine what these scores mean. For myself, I would categorized Charisma as being composed of the following factors:

• Physical appearance (3.0)
• Personal magnetism (2.0)
• Communication ability (2.0)
• Listening ability (1.0)
• Situational flexibility (1.0)
• Courage d'esprit (2.0)
• Energy (2.0)
• Firmness (1.0)
• Staunchness (1.0)
• Strength of character (3.0)

This gives us 10 points of interest. The majority - which evidence leadership ability - are tied into those aspects of Clausewitz's "genius of war" which do not fall directly under Intelligence. Obstinacy is given as a negative trait - related to strength of character, but opposing it. These are weighted in accordance to the relative importance - physical appearance, for example, is heavily weighted, but even a beautiful person can have below-average charisma if they are otherwise as human beings.

I considered for a bit putting together a "3pt" to "18pt" list, and even went so far as drafting one up. But I don't like. There's too many factors to consider, and I consider my own list too bereft of useful detail; Furthermore, there is no way to consider all of these factors in a manner that is relevant to the game table. In this regard, I see value in the idea of emphasizing physical appearance - it gives a solution which can be applied in a very real sense at the table. But at the same time... it's not the kind of game I would see myself running.

For a final note, this is what Charisma governs in my games:

• # of retainers
• Reaction adjustment
• Ego rating 
• Resistance to charms, etc.
• Resistance to possession
• Kidnapping targets

Maybe I'll write some sort of formula calculating all 10 points together. It might be fun. For now I'll just leave it at this, since it's been an exhausting amount of game-adjacent writing. I'll have to make up for that by cleaning up and posting one of my old adventure sites for the next post here.

Supernatural Hit Dice

Last September, before I came around to the idea of making public blog posts, there was one which really caught my eye on Necropraxis about the idea of a damage threshold for the supernatural. I loved the concept and thought it would be a great idea to put it into practice. I just needed to wait for the right opportunity to come up. It's been a few months, and I have, so I wanted to throw up the results.

Putting it in Practice

My players had no idea what was going on. They knew that "something" was up when I started asking for their die rolls instead of damage, and when the DM narration started to yield a lot of "useless" attacks. Initial arguments supposed that their attacks weren't hitting. But the dice rolls didn't support that. The next theory, and the most amusing one, was that only every second attack worked. Then a question over the materials used. Then the theory that it absorbed magic.

I had the goal of creating a "hopeless" feeling, and it worked out well: The group ended up fleeing, ironically right on the cusp of success. Explanation's came later, and everyone liked the principle. So we did a bit of fiddling, and I'm posting the end results here, now that time has passed.

Goals

The intention here is to make it possible for a human to harm a supernatural creature without the use of magic weapons. I want it to be damn hard for a normal man, possible for a fighting-man, and doable for a hero. I want a super-hero to not just be able to carve up lesser demons, but to face off against stronger ones. I absolutely don't want a wizard to blow through these with fire-balls - magic should be effective, but the goal should be to dispel, not blast apart.

Implementation

On the PC end:

1. Class based damage die. Fighters inflict 1d8 (1d6 w/small weapons), while other classes inflict 1d6 (or 1d4).
2. Level-based damage bonus for Fighters. This begins as +1 at Hero level, improving to +2 at Myrmidon, +3 at Super-Hero, and then scaling at a reduced rate up to the 19th Level (+6).
3. Magic weapons have no "plus" to damage - Except "Slaying" weapons, which do have a damage bonus, making them damn effective.
4. Fighters of high enough level have an option to learn huge versions of weapons, which inflict 1d10 damage when used by a character of high enough STR.

On the monstrous end:

1. Supernatural creatures possess Supernatural Hit Dice. These are treated as "HD+1" in terms of Attack Throws and Saving Throws.
2. Each SHD has a threshold. The exact amount is determined by the degree of how "magical" the possessor is.
3. The lowest value (6+) is for things like demon possessed humans or the undead; things which have become "magical', but are innately still derived from mortals. They can be hurt by normal men, but only with a good amount of luck.
4. The common value (7+ to 8+) is for various sorts of lesser demons, or other things which are "supernatural, but not exceptionally strange". It is possible for any fighting-man to harm opponents of this sort, with difficulty. Normal men don't have the "oomph" to do it.
5. Powerful supernatural forces, such as name demons, can be hurt only by actual heroes (9+), and put down in good order only by the truly super-heroic. Some could even be stronger (10+) but these would be the top of the top - the Orcus and Demogorgon types, if you will.
6. The absolute most powerful (11+) are creatures on the order of the divine. It is possible for the super-heroic to harm them. You need that much grit, to dare and make a god bleed. I suppose you could also set even higher numbers, but I see no reason to go beyond this point.

This also adds into my "Resistance" mechanic of choice. That is to say: Rather than a monster taking "half damage from fire", the expression is always given based on die. Given the above, it might be noted that at a certain point, most magic-user spells become useless: Even if a fireball does 10d6, if the threshold is set to 7+, you might as well be swinging a torch. Vulnerability is important. If you're battling an Ice Demon, use fire. If you're battling a Fire Demon, think twice? This also helps to replace the long lists of resistances held by demons, devils, and other sorts in most D&D editions - Instead, the more important part is what specific specimens are weak to.

I have to say, I love how it all spins together. Fighting-men are impressive in their own right. Picking out the right tools, and doing your research, is also important: Even a modest dagger, if enchanted with special properties, can give you an edge (if you want to take down a Witch-King, you had best have a barrow-blade). For everything else, there's bashing it until it died.

Potential Projects

Right now I have a small stack of draft posts waiting to be cleaned up and posted. I'm not entirely sure what direction to head off in, so I figure I'll outline a few things that I'm aiming to discuss:

• I've been working for some time now to compile my personal fantasy heart-breaker, which I refer to at home as "Black Spire" or alternatively "Ierbon" (though at home the game is more reference to as "the game on Saturday" or just "D&D"). It's a hack of OD&D with bits of Arduin and a few OSR-inspired mechanics strapped onto it, diverging in a major way only in terms of magic.
• Related to the above, I've been working to expand upon the campaign setting itself, and make it into something which could maybe be published. I'll try to post bits of this as I come - mostly from in-world, first person perspectives, since I think that's a lot more interesting.
• While it's certainly not publishable, I've been sitting on an unfinished Elder Scrolls based table-top RPG for about 5 years now. I want to go back, revise it, make it mechanically compatible with other old-school games, and then release it. Of course, that'll take some play-testing first.
• I want to play Classic Traveller. I have the books, I don't have interested players. If I ever manage to accomplish that, I'd like to start fiddling there, as well, for setting adaptation. But it's better to actually play the game first, you know?
• I like writing in general, so I suppose bits of that might come up. I've been going through a lot of fantasy novels, too, so commentary on that might come up.

That's the direction I'd like to go, so we'll see about actually sticking to the road?

The Real Treasure Was the Friends We Made Along the Way

There’s a lot of good reasons that “Experience for Gold” is such a FRP staple, and there are a lot of people who have elaborated on those points. The four which have the most relevance for me at the table are almost certainly:

• Mechanical incentive to adventure.
• Puts treasure collection over massacre.
• Gives the whole party a shared goal.
• Simplified bookkeeping.

As someone growing up in the era of widespread video games, I can’t help but wistfully desire a system that had a greater focus on actual skill development. I think that Chivalry & Sorcery takes a pretty good stride in this direction, but I also have zero hope of finding a group of live players willing to approach it. The trade-off for ‘realism’ is not worth it for a game like D&D. If pressed between the old-school method and the more modern system of encounter-by-encounter level advancement (either in terms of monster extermination or in terms of milestones), then I will pick the former every time. That said, I don’t like running the system on its own. While it does turn down the overall blood-lust of the party vs. a modern system, it doesn’t necessarily encourage role-playing so much as it does simple avoidance. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but one which I would think requires far more engaging stealth mechanics than D&D presents. So there are a few steps I like to take besides these.

Allied Treasure

Principle: When you befriend a faction in an adventuring site: Your party splits Experience equal to the full value of all treasure held by that faction at the time. No double-dipping!

The meaning of this: Should the party get a few luck reaction checks and establish peaceful contact with one group in a dungeon (bandits, beast-men, a lone giant, etc.) then they may turn it into an opportunity for acquiring experience. For these purposes I define “befriending” as essentially one step further up the reaction scale than an initial “Friendly” disposition. In-game terms, this implicates that there still exists some task the party should accomplish to fully win the trust of their potential partner (and sometimes more than just the one). There is no benefit for double-dipping here. If the party already earned experience from treasure held by a monster in this manner, they won’t gain experience again. However, they will still gain the more tangible benefit of having the physical treasure in their possession, which they can potentially pawn of for the sake of training, research, carousing, or the simpler purpose of resupplying.

Thus a sort of trade-off persists here: The party could put the bandits they met on the first dungeon level to the sword, or they could form an alliance with them, expanding their influence of the first floor. The former means both the piddling experience awarded for defeating a group of monsters (or men) and a bit more gold for the party’s coffers, while the latter implicates a much lower present risk of harm in battle, and perhaps a lower future risk of travels through that area in the future. Overall, this serves as a method of encouraging role-playing, and helps to provide a form of meta-game reward for a different suite of player skills. Both of these I find entirely in tune with the old-school ethos. On a related note, if further amplifies the benefits of a high Charisma score at the lower levels, where avoiding combat is at its most critical, but the funds to pay off a henchmen or hirelings are at an all-time low.

Quests

Principle: Completing missions of note results in experience awards.

This should be prefaced: Much like the rules for allied treasure, there is no double dipping here. If the king offers a reward of 5000 gold coins to bring the head of a dragon, that is the reward. Quest rewards are applied more for those situations where the circumstances are noteworthy, but the material reward is limited. The general scale that I use for quest experience is to treat it more or less as a monster, in terms of risk. Demogorgon, the highest ‘threat’ in AD&D, is weighted at a bit over 75,000 XP, which I suppose serves as good of a baseline as any as the ‘absolute highest’ (though the number would amount to 3750 XP in my home-game, which operates a bit closer to the silver-standard in terms of price modeling). I wouldn’t offer any awards less than 100 XP.

In practice: The party meets a young boy who lost his dog near an old ruin. The party is already going in there, but decides to keep an eye out, out of some strange sense of kindness. If the ruin in question is relatively barren, save perhaps a few rats and goblins (the dog being kept in a pen with the intention of being made into a meal), the reward would be an extra 100 XP for the party. Greater complications, such as a wizard being caught up in the affair, could potentially boost it up to 250. On the other hand, a more crazy quest (something like “G3”) could be closer to 10,000. The most ludicrous of tasks (and here I refer to the likes of H4) are where numbers of 50,000 or higher come into play.

Merit-Based Awards

Principle: Do things to gain experience.

There are a few things that I do to give out experience, taking a bit of inspiration from Arduin in this regard. The general list of things I use, excluding spur-of-the-moment bonuses, is summed up as follows:

• Undergoing a resurrection, reincarnation, or similar trauma.
• Being the sole survivor of an expedition.
• Defeating a stronger opponent in single combat.
• Coming within a few points of dying.
• Leading a successful expedition.
• Taking up the point guard/rear guard position.
• Mapping the dungeon.

The numbers here aren’t very high – No more than some 500 XP as a bonus and as little as 50 XP. But those numbers can certainly add up over time, and mean something at lower levels. Unlike Hargrave, who apparently disliked treasure as a source of experience, I prefer not to award XP on the basis of individual actions: casting spells, disarming traps, etc. If you’re choosing to cast spells or disable a trap at all, then (in theory) you’re already doing for a tangible benefit of some other form. Instead, these rewards are for those things which already go ‘above and beyond’ the call of duty.