Play Report: Feudal Anarchy

We had our first real game of Feudal Anarchy last night. I say real, because previously we had never managed to get beyond character creation. The lack of rules for female characters is still somewhat of a drain on the group, so I'm struggling with thoughts about how a female could be tied to the progression of a father or husband; it might make sense for said male to die just as the woman enters play, giving her some institutional freedom. Widows would make interesting characters, though so would the mistresses of parish priests and abbots, or even bishops.

First things first: there's a missing career in the rules. Alderman/Councilor is nowhere to be found, which was a shame because I had someone who had rolled into Guild Mastership. Rather than hastily concoct one, he chose to remain a Guild Master for the final term. Still!

Secondly: It's far too easy, for my tastes, to get into magical careers. Hell, if my players would have brooked it I would have done away with magic all together. Either way, I think I am going to set the entry bar much higher for warlocks and aesthetes in the future. Something like 1-30 instead of 1-60.

As for who we had...

Wulstan the Axe, a young boy from Tunmoss Manor who left home at an early age to join men seeking absolution in the Holy Land. Along with his friend, Darrel (you'll start to wonder where some of these names came from, certainly not an approved source, but I was too eager to argue~), he joined the forces of Roger of Salerno and exhibited extreme bravery at the Battle of Ager Sanguinis but minutes before he could be recognized and knighted, Roger himself was slain. Together, the two men (now hardened with violence and war) returned home. During his time in the Holy Land, Wulstan fell in love with and married a Copt named Aelethia who gave him a passel of daughters and a son.

Darrel of Tunmoss, Wulstan's companion, was a crossbowman and mercenary in Roger of Salerno's host.

Sambart the Hermit, was a commoner who took to the woods for peace and quiet and became a hunter. He went into the service of the Bishop of Hereford as the Forester of Peterchurch for a time, but eventually abandoned his duties to live as a simple religious aesthete in the wild.

Sir Edwart, a knight-bachelor's son and a household knight of Miles of Gloucester, the High Sheriff of Herefordshire. He works for king and country and loves good king Henry most of all.

Brian "le Grande", a base thief and a bandit, le Grande is the most experienced man with a bow in the whole group. He is a skulk and a killer, but has so far displayed remarkable uprightness and brutal honesty.

The game began as Wulstan and Darrel returned home to Tunmoss Manor (to discover it was paltry and shabby compared to their experiences in the great cities of the East). At the same time, Sambart arrived in fear of the local Welsh raiders while Sir Edwart came with a dispatch from the High Sheriff to secure the border. Brian le Grande, after watching his companions be hanged from the eaves of Mortimer Forest, had been skulking around for days seeking to hide out away from the High Sheriff's watchful eyes.

fitzWilliams, the knight who ran the estate, informed them that the Welsh had attacked the night before in numbers no greater than six or so. They were armed with clubs and spears, torches and caused a bit of havoc but harmed no one. After burning down a byre and the thatch of a few roofs, they vanished into the night.

At the same time as Edwart was receiving this news, Wulstan was confronting his father, Arnald who was less than impressed with the path his youngest son chose. After upbraiding him and telling him that his brother Aethelstan had gone on to become a canon priest at the cathedral in Hereford, Wulstan growled and left. Their relationship is not good, and the instant pathos created by real world history was deep and pretty amazing, I feel.

Eventually, the Welsh camp became clear when night fell: an old iron-age hill fort that the local Tunmoss residents thought was a barrow. A heated battle followed in which I used some very general stats for the Welsh. Four were wounded and several died after the battle of those wounds. They tended and saved the rest, bringing them back to Tunmoss in preparation for interrogation and possible ransom back to their lord, the Prince of Powys.

A riotous time was had by all.

Monsterparts: Kingshead

So, uh, yeah. Monsterparts. This is a thing and it is great. Everyone I've spoken to who's seen it loves it in concept. We haven't played it yet. But we probably will and soon. I've been thinking about what kinds of places would exist in Monsterparts and what I would like to focus on myself.

I grew up in and have spent MOST of my life in New England. Between Connecticut and Massachusetts, these are the places I have called home. Thus, I have decided to construct my little test town in the unnamed northeast. One of those states that borders the sea, where salt-winds whip up over the whitecaps and great Queen Anne style houses of the old Sea Captains lean on crooked hilltops behind shields of pine trees that moan in the storms.

Travel up the crushed gravel roads that wind away from the Interstate until the wild hills and deep valleys encompass you entire. Keep driving, past the turn-off for the Beachman School for Girls and Boys that leads into the pine-shrouded valley. Eventually you'll come to Kingshead, the biggest town in or around this part of the state. Everything here is quaint and the place seems queerly stuck in the middle sixties. Cell coverage is spotty at best, so you might as well leave your cellphone in your car. This is the Travelers Guide to Kingshead.

Note: I started talking to my people about this. They have been contributing. This is a joint effort between us, so thanks go out to Alt-F4, Tux, and Tallstaff.


Kingshead
Population: 20,000
Settled: 1625
Incorporated: 1639
Government Type: Open town meeting
Public Schools: 8

Scenic Kingshead-by-the-Bay was first settled by the preacher Josiah Dolver in 1625. Together with his flock he erected a small church on the curve of what is now Kingshead Bay, though in those early years of the settlement it was known as Indian Bay. By 1639, when the town was incorporated, the Dolver Colony had spread out to encompass most of what is now known as Northbeach. There was brief and sporadic fighting between the townsfolk and the dwellers of the local Mashanquot Tribe beyond Indian Sound. Known for two brief but bloody battles during the Revolutionary War, the citizens of Kingshead were mostly loyalists who stationed British troops in the town. These quaint historical sites (the church, the location of the battles, and several old colonial farms and barns) are still in good repair and are kept up by the Kingshead Preservation Society.

The town is located on Kingshead Peninsula, a granite and marble abutment jutting out into Kingshead Bay. On its northern side lies Indian Sound, while the open sea lies to the south. Residents generally divide the town into six districts.

Kingshead has never been wired for internet or cellular service due to the difficulty of bridging the many little creeks, bogs, and environmental hazards that block cell service. The nearest towers are off to the south by some way, making it spotty in the best of times. To achieve a decent cell signal, one must climb up a hill or into a tree. For this reason, few residents of Kingshead bother with the damn things. As for internet, there's dial-up which comes through the wires, but its mostly confined to the Library, the James Club, and the computer labs at the various schools. If you really must have internet with a reasonable speed you're advised to use a Business Center at one of the cozy hotels of the area (such as the Captain's Arms or the Drowned Sailor).

Where in Kingshead do you live?
Roll a d8 or pick a region. You don't have to use the modifier rules for that region if you don't want to.

1. James Point - start with a really good James Club blazer or a really good James Club tie. Your safe place is hard to get to from other parts of town. Your parents imbibe a lot of alcohol and they don't always get along. You can't refresh your EP by eating with both of them—you'll have to get one or the other alone.

2. Northbeach - start with a pair of wire cutters or a beer or a skateboard. You have a key to get into your house even when your parents aren't home. They aren't home a lot. They're hardly ever home. Your safe place can't be in your house, but you can regain your EP by eating alone at the local diner. You're used to it.

3. Indian Sound - start with a bus pass and a flashlight. It's real hard to get down to the main part of Kingshead, but you got a couple safe places. One near your house or in it, one by the bus station, and another one downtown. A kid's gotta know where to go.

4-5. Midtown - Everywhere's close to home. Mom and dad are around a lot. You don't start with any extra stuff, but that's ok. You've got just about enough anyway.

6. White Hill - Your brothers and sisters all had to go to the Beachman School after a certain age. You've got a Beachman vest or a pin or a sweater. Other kids from the school are inclined to treat you better.

7. Church Street - You're right near Josiah's old church. It's a historical site, protected by the government. This is a really good safe place. You're also really close to the Old Church Graveyard. This is a really bad place. Start with an extra secret. You can't choose not to.

8. Outside the Peninsula - You're from one of those little towns near, but not too near, Kingshead. Start with a bus pass and five dollars as well as some peanut butter and jelly to make your own sandwiches when you're away from home.

People and things you might see in Kingshead
James Point
1. Truant officer Donovan, who sometimes takes kids downtown. They usually don't come back.

2. Old Lady Whitehead and her idiot son. He talks to himself sometimes, and once he was bleeding from a mysterious cut.

3. The Misters Reinwald, owners of Reinwald and Reinwald Funeral Parlor. They always go around together, and are never seen apart. Sometimes they laugh out of time, like a broken clock.

4. Mister Gershwin is old and decrepit, yet unusually spry for how he looks. Nobody remembers when Mister Gershwin came to Kingshead, not even the other oldsters, who remember him even when they were young.

5. Rabbi Mendel who teaches piano to all the local James Point kids. The parents don't like him, but his house is a safe place. He is trustworthy.

6. Hesther Green, who used to love the sea. After her yacht was wrecked off the Cape and her husband drowned, she stopped going out. She wears a kerchief over her head, and if you touch it she gets very angry.

7. Jack Lebrown, a valet at the James Club. They won't let him in (your mother whispers because of race) but he has a nice little caddy shack where you can hide. It's a safe place.

8. Phil Whitehead, a kid who flaunts all the rules. He likes to joke around but sometimes he pushes the jokes too far. Whenever he smiles, you can hear a sound like water quietly leaking from a faucet.

Northbeach
1. Mr. James, the Dogcatcher. He has a very thin moustache and sometimes he purrs.

2. Thomas the Lifeguard, who never seems to leave his chair. He stares all day at the ocean.

3. The Weather Man. He's homeless and hangs around on the corner and all the kids kind of stay away. He smells bad and has a mean grin, but if you give him cigarettes or money he may tell you a secret. He's never around two or more weeks in a row.

4. Gurty the Baker. He's real nice and sells sweets on the beach. He will sometimes give them away for free, or for a little bit of cash. Small sweets restore 1 EP, big ones 3. His shop is a bad place.'

5. Truant Officer Donovan (see above).

6. Mac the Fisherman. He usually keeps to the docks or his smelly gas-fume ship. He can see things other adults can't. If you're nice he'll give you a dollar for yourself.

7. The Hot Dog Man. He sells hot dogs down by the industrial parks. All the adults seem to think they're great, even though they have a sort of grey flabby color.

8. Fishsticks, who's always getting in trouble for skipping school and being blue. He's so blue. Sometimes you see him talking to some other kids. They go out at night together. In the morning they don't come back.

Indian Sound
1. Andrew Brady, an older teenager who drives his dad's 1965 Pontiac GTO. He's seen tinkering with the engine in the driveway often. Sometimes, late at night, you can hear the car start and drive away, but it's always back before dawn.

2. Skip the Marksman, who sometimes drives down the road with deer tied to his truck. You never see him go out into the woods, only come back.

3. Doreen O'Donnel, daughter of the Convenience Store Owner. She is always talking to people who aren't there. They say she's just imaginative, but she has this funny way of looking at reflective surfaces.

4. Elizabeth Curwin, who's as good as a mom to all the kids out at Indian Sound. She'll always have you over for cherry pie. Just don't bring too many friends or she'll get upset. Her house is a safe place as long as she is home.

5. The Sea Captain. He lives up in an old Queen Anne house outside the Sound. He's pretty lonely, so he'll invite you up any time. It seems like you only spend a few minutes in his house whenever you go, but every time you leave its already dark.

6. Ed Stark who runs the scrapyard on the edge of town. He buys scrap metal from all the kids and is generally friendly. A good way to earn some pocket change.

7. Cory, the Witness. He's a door to door religious preacher for some Evangelical religion that comes from the midwest. His eyes are just a little too big and his tie is just a little too straight. If he comes into your house, its a bad place.

8. Mrs. Groan, who lives all by herself. The kids always joke that no one would be able to tell if she died because her house is so messy and she's so fat. She never smells good. Her teeth are falling out. Her house is a bad place, but your parents feel sorry for her.

Midtown
1. Mr. Gray the science teacher. He always has an odd smell about him, and his neighborhood is mysteriously devoid of dogs and cats, even strays.

2. Mr. Cimino, an old man from overseas. He has a bunch of numbers tattooed on his arm. He seems to understand some of what the children talk about. His house is a safe place when he is there. When he is out, it is a bad place.

3. Ms. Latcham the Librarian, who is warm and nice and keeps her hair all up piled on her head. When she's around in the Library, the front desk and her office are safe places.

4. Dottie Park, who used to work in New York as a high powered lawyer. Now she just smokes cigarettes on her porch all day. You can bum a cigarette from her if you're brave, but if her cellar door is open her house is a bad place.

5. Old Mister Whiskers, the neighborhood cat. Never seen in the same three week period as Mr. Gray. Mister Whiskers can be bribed to follow you. He can always sense bad places and bad things coming.

6. The Shadow Under the Bushes, which is sometimes here and sometimes gone. When you notice that its particularly dark over there by the edge of the sidewalk, you can sometimes hear the sound of broken glass crunching.

7. Carl Forrest, who's always coming to or from the library. He's careless and he might bump into you. If he does, one of the books in his stack falls to the ground and he forgets he's left it there. It has a midnight blue cover and the name of someone who went to your school in it, a long time ago. The words are all written backwards.

8. Maude, who wears her stockings askew and puts on her makeup wrong. When she talks, her voice is harsh and she sounds like she's just repeating back what other adults say to her. If there are no adults around, she says very mean things to you about your parents.

White Hill
1. The Reynolds house. Nobody has been seen leaving or entering this house, but after dark, there is the sound of a big dog that will bark at loud noises, or at you if you get too close to the fence. The dog is either in the house or the back yard but nobody has seen it either. After dark this is a bad place.

2. Betty, a middle school student. She wears coke-bottle glasses and a sweater that is a few sizes too large for her. She carries a notebook filled with illegible scribbles and never speaks above a whisper. If you talk with her very long at all, she'll tell you a couple secrets, usually about places but sometimes about people.

3. Kerry Weidler, the crazy cat lady. She's lonely and has lots of cats, but nice to you if you are nice to her. Her house is a safe place.

4. Becky, a six year old girl with a cat ears hair band. She's usually with her parents. If she stares at a house for too long, it is a bad place.

5. Jeffer's ice cream truck. He also sells hot dogs and polish sausages in a bun. So long as the calliope music is playing, the area around it is a safe place.

6. The Drain Man, who comes to clean the gutters and the drains and rotoroot the pipes. He smiles a lot, and shakes hands with everyone. He smells very clean and he likes to chat with your dad about tools for cutting and grinding up clogs.

7. The Cold Wind, which sometimes blows in from off the sea. Adults seem to act strange when it starts blowing - they stare out their windows and their lips curl up into grimacing smiles. Any house with its windows open when the Cold Wind arrives becomes a bad place.

8. Traunt Officer Donovan (see above)

Church Street
1. Elizabeth Aldrich, a well-dressed churchgoing woman usually seen only on Sunday. Generally harmless though she dislikes children. She'll yell at you if you're acting unruly. Nobody knows where she lives. Children she yells at usually start going to church for a while.

2. The Nuns of the Sacred Heart, who live near Church Street in a cold looking stone nunnery. They can be friendly, but some of them aren't very nice. If you can sit and talk with one, you can regain your
EP and forget a secret.

3. The Reverend Edward Haigh, who preaches at Josiah's Church on sundays. They say he has a glass eye, but you've seen it moving as though it were a real one, independently dancing from head to head while he preaches.

4. Mike McGary, the History Tour Guy. He's just a little too old to believe anything you have to say, but he can help in a pinch. He wears a tricorn hat when he's at work. When he's not at work, he's smoking in the graveyard of the Church or laying down at home. When he's in the graveyard, it's not a bad place.

5. The Bus from Parts Unknown, which carries the long-faced workers from outside Kingshead through town and lets them off by the Northbeach border. They're always in a hurry, and they don't like to be stopped by kids. The bus driver is big and fat and there are always tears rolling down his face.

6. Doctor Sagmore the pediatrician, who pats heads and backs and hands out lollipops. Sometimes the children he checks up on go strange and start to smell of sweet rot, but he never seems to notice or to mind.

7. Laurence Shipman, who smokes cigars that smell like turds and always seems to be grinning at you. He owns a little shipping business, but he never seems to open it as the windows are always dark.

8. Wiry Walter, who climbs down into the boles of trees and talks about an underground kingdom of tunnels and squirmholes that crisscross the neighborhood. He always wants you to come with him. If you look at him just right, you can see a strange light reflecting off his eyes.

Beachman's School for Boys and Girls
1. The Boys of Troupe 503, who wander the woods from time to time near Beachman's. The Principle won't let them on the grounds, but they like to come right up along the boundaries. Sometimes they offer things over the stone wall or through the hedges and want to trade. Usually they ask you to come outside to meet them.

2. Carry Loescher, who they say sleeps with the english teacher Mister Garvey. She's usually very bubbly, but its easy to make her cry. When she cries she gets really mad. When she's crying, the room she's in is a bad place.

3. The School Librarian. No one can remember his name. He wears a name tag, but everyone still forgets. It's hard to remember what he looks like. When you strain, you can just barely make out the edge of his jaw. He lives alone in a little house outside the town.

4. Horace the Janitor, who never looks anyone in the eye and always mumbles to himself. He might tell you a secret if you're nice to him. He might whisper a secret to you in your sleep if you're not.

5. Tony Scaripelli, who laughs to himself in his room when he's not in class. He gets a whole room to himself, unlike the other borders. You can hear his laughter from the rooms on either side. Sometimes it sounds like there are other people in there with him.

6. Mister Garvey, with his brittle smile and sunken eyes. He wants to teach you English, or else make you go back to class, or just talk about poetry with you. His shoes are always spattered with mud.

7. Terry Welsh, who thinks no one knows that he eats handfuls of dirt when other kids aren't looking. His mouth smells like an open grave. Being near him when no one else is around is bad.

8. The Principal, Dr. Larman. Any room he sits in is a safe place and nothing will bother him. Bad things don't like to be near him. His office is a safe place.

Things you might find in Kingshead
note: a new type of thing, a TELLING thing, which grants access to one secret above and beyond whatever secrets the character already knows. Telling secrets are not forgotten if the item is lost, but usually cannot be resolved without them. Telling items are creepy and dangerous, and cause a loss of 1 EP every night the player possesses them.
a James Club suit
a really good medallion depicting Josiah Dolver
a Dolver Church pamphlet
a packet of sweets from Gurty's
a ticket stub from the Paradise Theater in Northbeach
a bunch of skipping stones
a really good pair of glasses
a skateboard
a really good novel from the library
a telling book of the classics with a long-dead student's name in the front
a stone with a strange sign carved into it
a really good stuffed animal from the Northbeach carnival
a telling scrap of leather with secret words on it

Special things
The Captain's Pipe. When light and smoked indoors by a character who smokes (none of you kids who don't) the entire room becomes a safe place.

James Club Coin. Including this in your pay to anyone will make them reveal an important truth to you. They won't notice they've taken the coin.

Conch from Indian Sound. Holding this shell up to your ear lets you hear the ocean. If you give it to someone else and convince them to listen to it, they'll be hypnotized by the sound and you can do what you want for a while.

Special Grave Rubbings. Burn some of these to call forth ancient colonial ghosts who can walk through walls and spy for you for the space of one night.

Book of Hebrew Phrases. Speaking some of these phrases (if you can read hebrew) can turn a small house or several rooms into a safe place. Speaking some of them wrong (if you can't read hebrew or you aren't studious) can give you a new secret or maybe make the place you're in bad.

Old Wedding Band. When worn, adults seem to ignore you. The older they are, the less they notice you. For every day you wear it, you lose 1 EP.

Jasmine Lucifers. This book of matches from the Jasmine Lounge each produce a light as strong as the sun when struck and a scent like sweet jasmine. The book only has d4+1 matches in it.

Rusty Hedge Shears. Cut through a hedgerow anywhere in Midtown and think really hard. The tunnel you make comes out anywhere else in Kingshead (as long as it's outside). The tunnel can only be traversed one-way, and once no one is looking at it, it stops being there.

Father Cornby's Needle. You can make anyone be quiet. Touch the needle to their lips and tell them what you don't want them to be able to talk about. It can be specific, or it can be talking at all. As long as you hold the needle, they cannot countermand your order.

Good Adventuring Habits: Investigate your employer

Just because I've been running Shadowrun side by side with D&D lately, I've been thinking of a lot of Shadowrun style attitudes and tricks that certainly apply to Old School D&D. This is one of them, and something that my players have steadfastly refused to do in D&D (though its almost the first step most Runners undertake if they start to feel that telltale twinge about a run), and that is: Investigate your employer. In the shadows, in D&D, and in life people are not always up front about their motives. While there is an endless list of reasons for this the most important one stands out in Shadowrun most of all: they're trying to screw you. Adventurers, like runners, are expendable resources. They aren't the personal forces of their employers, but rather come-and-go mercenaries that might not even be trustworthy. Mercenaries, far more often than people who have strong ties of loyalty or fidelity, are often thrown to the dogs for some larger gain. That's one of their primary uses.

A number of reasons to investigate your employer:

They plan on using and discarding you. This happens so often in Shadowrun that its a whole trope. The devious fixer or double-crossing Mr. Johnson is a fixture in the field. While this is much less likely to be the case in D&D, don't forget... you're still an expendable resource.

They have ulterior motives they aren't mentioning. This happens more often in D&D and perhaps less often in Shadowrun, mostly for the reason that Mr. Johnsons never tell you what their motives are in the first place. Having ulterior motives in Shadowrun is the norm. Now, employers in D&D might have a thousand reasons for hiding their real motives, but learning them never hurts. At worst you can just help accomplish the task in the way they were secretly hoping. At best, you save your own life.

They might have powerful friends... or enemies. This is big because when you decide if you want to double-cross someone you gotta weigh all the risks. You don't want to return and tell your employer that you gave up on his job because it got too tough if he's in good with, say, the king.

They might have a bad reputation. This is similar to the one above. It takes but a minute to discover that your employer is well known for sending mercenaries into terrible odds, or failing to pay them at opportune moments. You need to know this stuff.

It will help you map your local political landscape. And this can save your life. Knowing the relationships between noble houses, where to turn when things look down, and how to get out of a kingdom if the law comes hunting for you are all important bits of information.

Only You

There's an inbuilt assumption that I've been working really hard to overcome for a long while. I feel like I have a lot of these little confessional moments about ingrained assumptions as a DM that I'm working on. I don't know if that makes me whiny, or a bad DM, or just cognizant of my weaknesses. But that's besides the point.

The assumption is that only the player characters matter. What do I mean by this? CLEARLY for the content of the game, the player characters are the most important element. They are, in a sense, truly the only thing that matters because without them as a stepping stone into the game world the players would have no way to interact with anything and the game would be something more like a book and less like a roleplaying game. But in this particular instance, I mean that the actions of the player characters are the most important elements in the game world. Essentially, the idea that the world is a collection of events that were already going to happen and that without the player's interference, things usually degrade. EG, don't go and kill some ogres? Well, later they are much more dangerous and smashing up caravans instead of just terrorizing the local peasantry.

This is a good quick short-hand for consequentialism. You did or did not do X or Y, therefore Z or possibly W happened. I think that's a great lead-in for fresh players to understand the game. But consequentialism in D&D can be a lot more complicated than that. I have to remind myself that the players are not the only power in the region. They aren't even the only adventuring party. So things may resolve in a way that is more or less in line with what they were hoping for, but they shouldn't invariably degenerate without player input. It's almost as though the setting is a watch and the players need to go around winding parts of it to keep the systemic entropy from increasing and increasing.

That sounds like a fun game, actually.

But while having consequence-chains be completely beyond player anticipation or outside their frame of reference is frustrating... The world always counting on the players to solve things can be frustrating as well. It can foster a sense of immediacy that means PCs must accomplish every action all at once. This completionist feeling is arguably just as dangerous to the gameplay.

So, I've been thinking of making some charts to represent what happens to adventures when PCs turn them down. In the same vein, I've been thinking of making charts to represent how complex political situations resolve themselves so I'm not just deciding based on what I think is appropriate. That may work in some cases, but sometimes I want to be surprised -- does the attempt at a coup succeed? Fail? The dice can tell me and I can interpret their results.

Since these things are somewhat abstracted (they're happening "off stage" so they don't need to be granular, and without direct player interference so they don't need complex rules governing PC interaction with them) these charts can be as simple as the sample I'm going to provide right here:

What Happened to that Quest/Hook?
01-20. Things got worse. There are more goblins, more dangerous wizards, or some increase in stakes.
21-30. Things got worse. Another adventuring party tried to solve it, but failed. Their failure has made things even worse than before.
31-45. Things got worse. Local militia or knights tried to solve the problem, but failed terribly.
46-55. The problem went away or resolved on its own. No action was necessary.
56-70. The problem was solved by an adventuring party. It's all good.
71-85. The problem was resolved by local forces. It's still all good. They may have gained some levels.
86-90. Whatever was wrong has caused another major issue to spring up. At the DMs option, they may both be problems now.
91-95. The adventure was exposed as a political manipulation, maneuver, or front. Whoever had the "issue" has been outed as having set everything up.
96-00. No change.

PMF: Electric Ghost Preacher

Electric Ghost Preacher
You are a member of the Evangelical Church of Elvis and the Electric Saints and you've come to SPREAD THE WORD! The Electric Spirits are all around everyone at all times, jiving their juice-holes and jumping from fingertip to fingertip! You've got the POWER in your neon-tube white suit and you're gonna SHARE it with 'em! Call up those spirits, reach deep into the Electric-wave Ether, the Radioactive Otherworld, the TV Tube Nether, and bring 'em FORTH! Collections will be taken at the end of the service, thank you.

Agility d4
Smarts d4
Spirit d12
Strength d4
Vigor d6

Hinderances
Illiterate (minor) You don't know how to read. If Elvis had wanted you to know how to read, he would have left an instructional video. Reading's for the damned.

Vengeful (major) No Electric Preacher will be wronged and let the thing stand. No, not in THIS house of the Lord (and all places are his house)!

Edges
Arcane Background: Faith

Charismatic You KNOW how to work a crowd, HALL-eh-LOO-yah!

Skills
Faith d8, Healing d4, Intimidation d10, Persuasion d12, Shooting d4

Gear
Walking stick or cane, knife, colt dragoon, fancy neon suit with electric lights and battery pack, collection bowl, slick hairdo

Magic

Power Points: 10

Spells: Banish, Healing, Summon Ally (spirits)

PMF: Vinyl Incantator

Vinyl Incantator
You're part of the Vinyl Underground, a group of men and women who trade recordings of wizards performing spells, all printed and plated on hot steaming vinyl. You carry around a man-portable record player with you in case you need to draw on that magic. You seek out swap-meets of other Incantators and keep your records organized in a little trolly with a massive Master Index of your spells. You're not a wizard per-se, but you've got spells that no one else has seen. Hell, you liked that Blasting spell before it was popular. Now it's... it's played-out. Naw, man, the more obscure your tracks, the closer they are to the Source.

Sometimes you mix new tracks out of old ones, or play old rock records backwards to discover secret messages left before the Thunderkiss. You never know when you might pick up a new tune and discover that it holds a new spell hidden within it.

Agility d6
Smarts d10
Spirit d6
Strength d4
Vigor d4

Hinderances
Arrogant (major) You know you've got the best tracks. Don't fool yourself, kid, you're the hottest Incantator in the area.

Poverty (minor) Can't keep that dollar in your pocket, though, man. You just GOTTA keep buying Vinyl, and that shit's expensive.

Edges
Arcane Background

Conncetions: the Vinyl Underground You can always get in touch with members of the Underground. They aren't underground because they're hiding, they're just... they like to go unseen. Most cities have at least one or two Incantators around and some have whole markets.

Skills
Driving d6, Knowledge (rock) d10, Lockpicking d6, Notice d4, Persuasion d4, Taunt d4, Magic: Rock Collection d10

Gear
Incantator cart, portable record player, leather jacket or windbreaker, jeans, tennis shoes, headband or aviators

Magic

Power Points: 10

Spells: Bolt, Burst, Confusion

PMF: Square Norman, Commie Stomper

Square Norman and Square Norma
You're part of the forgotten class of Muricans that once worked for the government or the military. These are buzz-cut NASA men, horn-rim glasses and sliderule working. You know the commies did this to you, and even though Murica's all fucked up, you got your goddamn PRIDE and your SELF-RESPECT and none of these commie hippie freaked-out fucked up dopers are gonna get in your goddamn WAY.

Agility d6
Smarts d8
Spirit d6
Strength d6
Vigor d10

Hinderances
Anemic (minor) Your system doesn't handle toxins or diseases because you've lived a clean, pure, white bread life.

Arrogant (major) Everyone in Murica who's not a Norman or Norma is a piece of shit. Dopers, shriekers, grinders, and hippies.

Bad Eyes (minor) (glasses) You spend 15 or 20 years reading little tiny teletype papers or printouts from the Feds. Your eyes won't work either.

Delusional (Major) You know you can bring Murica back. Fuck, you'll ACT on it. This can make you unpleasant to be around.

Loyal (minor), only applies to other squares You will protect another Norm to the death unless the prove they're really a freak or a doper.

Stubborn (minor)

Vow (minor), defeat the Freaks You don't have to work on this one 24/7, but all things should ultimately bend towards defeating the Freaks.

Edges
Alertness
Quick Draw

Skills
Fighting d6, Intimidation d6, Investigation d6, Notice d4, Persuasion d6, Shooting d8, Stealth d4, Streetwise d4

Gear
Baton, Switchblade, Colt 1911 and 100 bullets, classy suit, thin tie or ascot (ladies), fancy shoes, horn-rim glasses

PMF: Freaked-out Fungoid Fantasist

So, Frank (Keir's player) is going to be running Planet Motherfucker soon. He's given me the leeway to design my own archetype, so I have browsed the net, discovered THIS GUY, and created a class.

Freaked Out Fungoid Fantasist
Of the Fungoid people, only very few ever leave their little claves out in the Murican Southwest. Those that do often don colorful clothes and the buttons of their elders and set off towards the horizon. These Fantasists (as they are called) tap into a powerful source of magic: mind-altering drugs. You are a shambling, shaggy man (or woman) of fungal heritage with brilliant patchwork clothing and a penchant to ramble incoherently. Oh yeah, and you can do magic by eating, smoking, snorting, or otherwise injecting shit into yourself. You tell everyone else that it's because of, like, Astral Spirits, man, but no one really knows what the fuck is going on.

Agility d6
Smarts d4
Spirit d12
Strength d4
Vigor d8

Racial Traits
(+3 ability) High Attribute, Spirit
(+2 ability) +10 power points for Magic
(+1 ability) immunity to HUMAN diseases
(-3 ability) smarts can never be advanced beyond d6 (permanent burnout syndrome)
(-3 ability) two points per step or two advances to raise smarts

Racial Hinderances
Big Mouth (via constant mumbling of all things, including secrets)
Habit (minor) like, you know, mumbling and stumbling and grumbling all the time, mannn
Hard of Hearing (minor) not because, like, you don't hear well but because sometimes the mundane world is just so, really, you know, hard to pay attention to
Dryed Out (major) this is the Elderly hinderance, but it only comes into play in dry, arid areas where you don't have like, enough water, man

Racial Edges
Arcane
Fast Healer

Skills
Fighting d6, Healing d4, Knowledge (drugs) d4, Persuasion d4, Stealth d4, Survival (desert) d8, Tracking d4, Magic: Arcane Drug Use d8

Gear
Staff (Str+d6), Backpack, Blanket, Flask, Lighter, Quilted Colorful Clothes, Tall Patchwork Top-hat, Fungus Food (a bunch)

Magic
All Fungoids use Spirit instead of Smarts
Power Points: 20
Powers: Armor, Burrow, Entangle

Combat and fatigue (or hit points and getting worse at things)

So Jason (the player behind Cain) has always thought that Hit Points as they're currently represented are highly unrealistic. I think that they work fine for short-term combat and fatigue representation, but there is a problem that he pointed out: there's no long-term penalty for not recovering hp. If you're really that worn down that you can be finished off by one more sword-stroke (in the case I always present it as, your defenses are so decreased by fatigue and the buildup of small damage that the next blow is the one you can't properly defend against, sending you to the grave), then there should be some other effects as well.

Dungeoneering is tough. Getting hurt is tough. Having low hp is a pretty big penalty. But is it penalty enough? Last night he said to me: "Ahh, but you like a really realistic D&D. And not having long-term combat damage effects isn't really realistic."

SO HERE IT IS:

Players should record two new numbers -- 1/4th and 1/2 their PCs max hp. Once a combat ends, if they are below either threshold they sustain a (cumulative) -1 penalty to all of their rolls except for damage. This includes saving throws and to-hit rolls, as well as surprise checks, etc. For every two days spent beneath 1/2 hp, this penalty accrues another -1. Half of the penalties are obviated when the PC passes the 1/4th threshold and the rest when they pass the 1/2 threshold again.

I'm gonna throw this rule into the grinder and see how she works.

Just what falls under the umbrella of Animal Friendship?

Animal Friendship(Enchantment/Charm)

Sphere: Animal
Range: 10 yds.	Components: V, S, M
Duration: Permanent	Casting Time: 1 hr.
Area of Effect: 1 animal	Saving Throw: Neg.

By means of this spell, the caster is able to show any animal of animal intelligence to semi-intelligence (i.e., Intelligence 1-4) that he desires friendship. If the animal does not roll a successful saving throw vs. spell immediately when the spell is begun, it stands quietly while the caster finishes the spell. Thereafter, it follows the caster about. The spell functions only if the caster actually wishes to be the animal's friend. If the caster has ulterior motives, the animal always senses them (for example, the caster intends to eat the animal, send it ahead to set off traps, etc.).The caster can teach the befriended animal three specific tricks or tasks for each point of Intelligence it possesses. Typical tasks are those taught to a dog or similar pet (i.e., they cannot be complex). Training for each such trick must be done over a period of one week, and all must be done within three months of acquiring the creature. During the three-month period, the animal will not harm the caster, but if the creature is left alone for more than a week, it will revert to its natural state and act accordingly.The caster can use this spell to attract up to 2 Hit Dice of animal(s) per experience level he possesses. This is also the maximum total Hit Dice of the animals that can be attracted and trained at one time: no more than twice the caster's experience level. Only unaligned animals can be attracted, befriended, and trained.The material components of this spell are the caster's holy symbol and a piece of food liked by the animal.

This is an excerpt from the AD&D 2e PHB, namely the Animal Friendship spell. It's come up several times that the description of the spell doesn't specify what kinds of animals it affects (actually, it does: ANY animal). Sometimes in AD&D "animals" mean anything of a certain intelligence level. Sometimes it means any creature that naturally appear on Earth (including giant variations). Sometimes it means something more broad.

The question came up on saturday with the Hounds; should Heimir, the God of Hospitality, grant his priests a spell which could be used on drakes? The Hounds, after killing the drakes near Arodariath, took home a large clutch of eggs that were still alive. Warming one for several days over a slow fire, Myndil the Merry attempted to use this spell on the hatchling.

It failed. Why? The spell as written should function. Yet, Heimir canonically has no power over dragons or dragon-kin. Thus, while the spell might work on sylvan creatures or those whose domain is traditionally a household (even if they are magical in nature), it had no ability to affect the drakes.

My players agreed that this was a reasonable ruling. It's all part of that DIY, Build it Yourself, Customize it at your Table atmosphere.

The Amazing Inflating Descriptions

This is just a strange social custom I wanted to note. People who join my games generally do not write very long descriptions. However, people who have been playing with me for a long time write character descriptions that are at least a paragraph long in which they encapsulate every visible piece of equipment and attempt to describe their character from head to toe. Over time, those who join up conform to this social norm and describe their character's in more detail.

It's an amazing process to watch.

It's All Hard OR Nothing's Easy

This is a rule I try to follow whenever I can and apply it liberally. Much like the original Fallout game (where you couldn't tell if trying to do the "right thing" would wind up worse than where the little sidequest started), in my games everything winds up being more difficult than anticipated. It's never just a matter of killing 'em all and letting the gods sort 'em out, nor is it of simply busting down a few doors in a dungeon and taking all the loot. Everything is always more difficult than anticipated because things are more difficult than that in life.

"During the same session, Ernie and Elise also found the first treasure, a chest of 3,000 copper coins (which was too heavy to carry, much to the children's disappointment)." (wikipedia)

This is a perfect example of something that winds up being harder than expected and fulfills the exact feeling I'm talking about. I don't want to go on a biblical exegesis about Gygax's playstyle here—for one thing, I would only rarely have players find a chest with a nice big round number of coins in it. But discovering treasure only to realize that you can't carry it all... well, that's a consequence of things being more complicated than they appear at first blush.

Everything, always, is more complicated than it appears from a distance or from the surface. That's true in life as it is in my D&D games. Doing things cause ripples, which means you can't just murder everything you see and expect to get the same treatment as if you were conscientious. You can't kill a rival nobleman for money and expect the kingdom not to change. And when you get into the dungeon to kill the monsters, you also better be prepared for things to be more complicated than "dungeon, monsters" in terms of challenges... because everything is always complicated.

It's a careful line to strike so that players don't feel like their actions can never have a good effect, or that everything they plan for is in vain. One of the great ways to mitigate this is to allow the PCs to scout out information beforehand or to telegraph it somehow. If the treasure in the goblin's lair is actually going to be too large to move in one go... well, that amount of loot has probably attracted some attention and is the subject of local rumor. These kinds of things wind up being the gaming texture through which play can proceed. Far from being static and dead pieces of information that are gleaned or not, they provide springboards for player imagination and planning.

Often, there is no "right" solution. There's only a varying rainbow of those solutions which may work more or less effectively. For me, D&D isn't a puzzle or a wargame... it's a mirror.

The 10th Age Hammerwatch mod is... coming

Hammerwatch is out. The editor now works on my machine. You know what this means.

Signs and Symbols of Adventure

"And I assure you there is a mark on this door—the usual one in the trade, or used to be. Burglar wants a good job, plenty of Excitement, and reasonable Reward, that's how it is usually read. You can say Expert Treasure-hunter instead of Burglar if you like. Some of them do. It's all the same to us. Gandalf told us that there was a man of the sort in these parts looking for a Job at once, and that he had arranged for a meeting here this Wednesday tea-time."

This is a well-known passage by now (and if it isn't it should be). Though hobbits and most folk of Middle Earth seem to be extremely literate, they still make use of a generally pre-literate (or simply secretive) desire to record things in symbols and signs that are recognizable without being able to decode them as alphanumeric. Never again are mentioned the sigils and signs to which Balin is here referring, unless its some dwarven rune and thus incorporated into their actual language.

However, this idea of a secret adventurers code of glyphs ACTUALLY EXISTS.

This seems like a great thing to build on and expand into an adventurer code. Perhaps something that it takes a proficiency to be able to decode. I'll get to it once my group stops adding games for me to design... the newest fling is Dark Sun. We'll see how long that lasts.

Merchant Guilds of the Elves

When the road has grown too long dear

and my feet too weary to tread,

Then I shall be coming home dear,

to you and to my bed.

—Elvish Traveling song

The elves, more than any other race save the gnomes, are travelers and journeymen. They are masters of the sea, and Atva-Arunë was crisscrossed with elven tracks before men ever came north. It serves to reason, then, that their mercantile guilds are more complex than those of men and more accepted by elvish noble society. Merchants in elven lands often walk the Silver Road, which serves as an unbreakable bond of culture and knowledge between all elven kingdoms.

It is a facet of elvish culture that any family can attain nobility by service to its prince or king; Those which produce brilliant poets and artists, those who bring great wealth into the kingdom, and any who make outstanding accomplishments are generally rewarded with overlordship of the great elvish estates. While there is still a laboring class, it is far more permeable amongst elves than anywhere else, and the basic services expected to reach them are far greater.

Even elvish farmers receive training in the classics, swordsmanship, and grammar known as the paidea. Many elves choose the route of mercantile venture, for literacy is almost universal amongst elves and the ability to do basic sums is part of the paidea.

The Great Companies

The first among the great elvish trading companies is, of course, the Silver Tree. This guild was incorporated in the middle Eighth Age as a formal agreement between four noble houses of Tailimisiä and Vesimä as well as the treasury of four wealthy merchant-lords. These eight elvish men and women made up the original governorship of the company, and it is on the format of the House of the Silver Tree that most other elvish trading guilds where founded.

Elvish tradesmen, of course, must pay dues to whatever kingdom they operate in, so they frequently incorporate in order to reach the most equitable agreement with the local regents. They also request use of the Silver Road, which is overseen by the magi of any given realm. This means that members must be formally inducted and granted badges to prove that they are protected by the same compact as that originally made.

Other elvish guilds include the illustrious Seven Stars Compact, the Sign of the White Swan, the Company of the Ashen Staff, the Bent Bow Coster, and the Moonstar Coster. There are countless other small guilds that operate in a particular region, but of those listed all but the White Swan can be found in a variety of elvish, mannish, and dwarven lands.

Elven trading companies tend to work lightly in the competition department. They would generally prefer to come to an agreement about what types of goods they are to carry and where they are to carry them than engage in trade wars (unlike mannish and sometimes dwarven companies). Elves are quick to employ halflings and gnomes amongst their number, but may be more reticent to engage the aid of men or dwarves.

Each of the great trading companies maintains a network of supply houses, warehouses, waystations, private docks, stables, and inns throughout Atva-Arunë. These are generally private affairs, reserved for individual merchants who belong to the guild. Guild meetings, on the whole, are rare but lavish affairs where even the lowliest and poorest of the Guild Merchants are welcome to voice their opinions.

The greatest offering joining one of the merchant guilds grants, however, is not reduced tariffs, better guards, or private wayhouses. Rather, it is the guarantee that if someone waylays a caravan belonging to a merchant with membership to one of these guilds they can be assured that the guild will stop at nothing to reclaim the goods and bring the bandits to justice. For this reason it is very rare for any but the boldest or most desperate to attack an elven caravan that flies the sign of any of the great companies. Indeed, the Moonstar Coster maintains a small contingent of elite pegasus-mounted Skyknights for just such occasions, and the call of a Moonstar hunting horn from the air is a sound to fear.

The Moonstar Coster

A.K.A. the Merchants of the Moonstar, the Moonstar Traders, the Gemstone Traders, the Mystics

Badge: The Moonstar Coster uses as its badge a simple piece of Moonstar surmounting a horned moon, smoothed and polished, born on a black field

Goals

The Moonstar Coster has always focused on high-value esoteric items of interest to wizards, adventurers, and the wealthiest of nobility. The Coster’s purpose is the facilitation of magic and the reintroduction of lost culture to the world. Most members of the Coster strongly believe in the need to preserve and disseminate books and histories, and so it has fallen to the Moonstar Traders to deliver these services.

In addition, the Moonstar Coster seeks to maintain a powerful presence in Valkaela and Talimisiä; for this reason amongst others they opposed the ascension of the current Gwydereon, Kelatulë, who has favored the Silver Tree and other compacts over the Gemstone Traders.

The Coster has a vested interest in elvish politics, and makes it part of their business to sponsor liberal families and ventures within the elvish kingdoms. 

History and Motivation

Founded around the same time as the House of the Silver Tree, the Moonstar Coster was an outgrowth of the efforts of a single elvish noble house hailing from Valkaela; these elves were the scions of the a wizard with supposedly Oronnian heritage.

Vironylatimen of the Starry Field was both the founder of his noble house (under the Valkaelan Brenneon Tythilondaryn) and the originator of the Moonstar Coster. Vironyl was one of a number of elves who participated heavily in what was referred to as the “rebirth” during the end of the Eighth Age and the early Ninth and which was abruptly brought to an end by the spread of the Red Plague.

Though Vironyl was a victim of the disease, his mercantile compact was not. Throughout the spread of the Bleeding Death the Moonstar Coster continued to travel along those Silver Roads which remained open and to trade with men and dwarves.

These days, the descendants of Vironyl maintain control of the Coster. They represent some of the more liberal elements within Valkaelan society, and they have long lamented the rise of Kelatulë and his restrictive policies in Talimisiä. These are the brother and sister Aronthilië and Minurentameri.

Organization

The Moonstar Coster is composed of independent merchants who have signed on with the Moonstar Twins and accepted their terms which is an informal agreement to pay ten percent of their income yearly to the company coffers; in return the merchants receive a year of protection from the Moonstar guards at lowered rates as well as extremely cheap lodgings and preferential treatment in cities and ports that have a Moonstar presence.

Shooting Down the Competition

Ranged combat is a key element of D&D that a lot of people overlook. It can be used to great effect by PCs and NPC foemen alike. Particularly with the modifications that C&T gave to crossbows (ignoring various levels of armor, for example, and extending their damage to be more in line with actual crossbows rather than the very very poor damage represented by the PHB entry), you can do some real ugly things at long distance. Of course, this puts melee fighters at a great disadvantage, particularly in terrain with little to hide behind and high visibility. To illustrate my point, I'll set up the Hounds' latest activities and compare their ranged combat of a few nights ago with their melee combat.

Having been hired by one of the most famous Free Captains of Silversong, Telarmirithien, to rid his estate (granted to him by the Tower for services rendered to the king) of the sea-drakes that flew in from the Moonhome Sea last spring and began nesting in a large brood, the Hounds traveled south to Arodariath. The drakes were recumbent all winter, in a sort of hibernation, though the adventuring party known as the Branching Willow hunted and killed a good number of them while they were out gathering food, leaving much fewer for the Hounds to deal with.

Knowing that drake clutches hatch in the spring and can result in as many as 4 new drakes per female, the Hounds had to act quickly. Once the drakes hatch, their scholarly sources warned that the new drakes would spend a few months with their former brood, then they would all depart for new broodspace. These creatures could spread to the whole of the peninsula, becoming a general menace.

Exploring the drake's nest, they discovered that the rather large brood (somewhere around 25-30 drakes originally) had carved out a cave system in the gutrock of a hill they scorched and blasted with their flaming breath. These caves, now linked up by clever claw-work, had many openings to vent their heat, oxygenate their main cavern, and to allow them entry and exit at various points. Unable to rouse the drakes by throwing stones and singing songs, they paced the hill and waited until some emerged. A few hours later, two drakes appeared to go hunting... and that was when the aerial combat began.

Lacking a way to fly and match them, the party began a long range bombardment. More drakes answered the panicked and angry calls of the hunting pair, until a full seven were in the air and diving towards the PCs. Luckily, they were all a good distance away (they had chosen to sit 80 yards from the hill so they could fire at it in safety) and had to cross the open skies to reach the PCs. Even at the wing-tearing clip of 90 feet per round, a good many of the drakes never made it to the confrontation. Two were killed outright by missile fire and a third forced to flee. Two were badly wounded and landed only to be chewed up by the melee grinder known as Keir. Two others were utterly destroyed by Naur's newly invented spell (Ray of Air, some scrolling involved). This made a body count of 7.

After the ranged battle, the Hounds entered the hill... and were ambushed by the wounded drake and one final one that had waited to guard the eggs. They were scared and the PCs had heard them chirping and hissing even as they entered the great cave where the eggs where stored... but they had no idea that fire was about to wash over them from two directions.

The melee combat went very differently. In a matter of rounds, even with one drake blinded and the other dead, two party members were felled. A third looked like he was going to go down. Keir alone was still standing strong, with Naur in the back fretting over his expended magics. TWO DRAKES in melee combat (the ability to nearly continuously breath huge cones of flame really did them in) did what SEVEN DRAKES in ranged combat had been able to do: nearly destroy the party. Since drakes have no long ranged attacks, their ranged combat was a frantic scramble of trying to get close to the PCs and land. In close combat... well, it was a different story. Barely wounded from the ranged confrontation, the PCs were BADLY mauled by the melee combat.

Just goes to show you—use your capabilities wisely, and always, always, always, plan ahead and try to tilt the odds in your favor.

Complicated Dungeons and More

It's easy to get into the habit of drawing up a number of rooms or caves, wiping your hands, and thinking yourself done with a dungeon design. In fact, compared to the social aspects of adventure design (who knows what, how can the PCs find the site, what is the political situation around the site) it seems that dungeon design can be streamlined into a very simple process. Of course, like all things which seem very easy, this "ease" disguises a complex and difficult task which, when taken too often as rote, can lead to repetitive, uninspired, or very bland dungeon design.

That's not to say that the site itself is bland by description, or that no thought has gone into who lived there before, whether or not it was freshly excavated, etc. It's possible to put a great deal of thought into those matters while putting relatively little into the actual physical shape and configuration of the site. Paper, particularly graph paper, has a reductionist quality to it that tends to make me think in simple, concrete, flat terms. The best counter to this that I can think of is the map from the Caves of Chaos (below) which details the topographical detail of the dungeon. This is a perfect example, because not only do we see the hillside slope, we are also privy to a number of non-connected cave systems that undermine the hill. No simple and straightforward maze of caverns, this.

Of course, in a pinch (when you aren't putting together something over a period of days but need something for that evening) you can simply make a random assortment of rooms and assign them purposes. That's helped get me out of many tight squeezes as a DM, I'm ashamed to say.* However, I must take care to ensure that these slapdash dungeons don't take over the work of real dungeon creation. I'm sure someone, somewhere, has categorized the types of dungeons that exist by physical morphology but I don't where that list might be. So here are my categories:

Linear. The laziest and most unrealistic dungeon, this is simply a series of rooms that are joined by corridors. Some may loop back, but it is essentially forward-moving, pushing the PCs to a final room or encounter. If you couldn't tell, I strongly dislike this type of dungeon.

Simple Branching. These dungeons have various branches that do not inter-connect. There may be two branches or more. This requires the PCs to return to past branches to explore the entire dungeon.

Complex Branching. These types of dungeons have inter-connecting branches with back-loops and cut-throughs. There are actually several types of complex branching dungeons I can think of off the top of my head, including the Wheel (central area that expands to many branches) the Tree (trunk area that divides into various branches as it goes deeper into the dungeon) and the Depths (essentially a series of non-linear branching dungeons that fork off each other; what we would generally call a MEGAdungeon).

Looped or Mobius. These dungeons are the type that I'm most prone to make if I sit down to draw. They have a certain appeal; like complex branching dungeons, there are different zones. However, unlike complex branching dungeons these zones are often shot through with interconnections that can cause the players to wind up back at the entrance, in another zone, or back at the central point. There is a danger in overusing this type of dungeon, I feel, especially when you, like me have a tendency to make...

• The Bounded Looping Dungeon. This type of dungeon has all the loops and zones, but there are choke-points that prevent advancement to the next zone or funnel them through a single area. I do this ALL THE TIME to divide the dungeon into inner and outer areas. It's a bad habit.

The best dungeons are those that are concept-built outwards. What does a kobold warren look like? What does a series of dangerous caves look like?, etc. These considerations of real-world morphology** lead to a more interesting and varied structure. There is nowhere as deep or broad to draw from than from life.

*On the other hand, I am also currently running 2-4 active games a week, so I can't always get myself to focus on making notes for this or that one.

**I suppose a kobold warren isn't "real world" but we can model it on some real world things, such as ant colonies.

Pride of Carthage, a review

I'll admit it: I wasn't that thrilled with the beginning of Pride of Carthage by David Anthony Durham. It seemed pedestrian. Throughout, there was something about the use of language that was somehow blasé to me. Yet, my intense and developing interest in various bits and corners of history that I'm not well versed in (the Civil War, the Punic Wars, pretty much anything outside of 200CE-1350CE) has been growing exponentially.

The workmanly quality of Durham's writing at first detracted from my enjoyment of the book; I have no idea what New Carthage looked like, unlike the very clear image of Republican Rome I've formulated through reading, seeing the modern city, and watching countless Roman movies and television shows (movies about Rome, not from it). However, once the story really got rolling, the writing faded into the background for me before the grand drama of historical figures.

What Durham really captured well were the little quirks of the various commanders (extrapolated from their behavior in the histories) as well as the troubles of the campaign. Hannibal's inability to bring Rome to heel due to those men back home in Carthage who wanted him to fail, the march across the Alps, even the dealings of his men with the "straw-haired" barbarians. The most memorable characters have to be the Molochite Monomachus (a gruesome man with a gruesome devotion to the Devourer) and the Massyli prince Massinissa, who was condemned to exile.

Massinissa's attack on Numidia is perhaps the greatest moment of the book. All of the previous writing seems to somehow work in this section, clicking into place and providing a powerful resolution to one of the B-storylines.

If you're not interested in the Punic Wars, this novel probably isn't for you. If you are, and you're somewhat turned off by the blandness of the writing to begin with, don't despair. The book isn't really about the textures of the environment, but rather the textures of the characters within it. Give it a chance. By the time Hannibal Barca's crossing the Alps... well, if you still don't like it then, you can abandon his mighty army and shut the book. Before then, you really don't know what you're getting involved in.

Forest Gnomes and the Story Generator

Forest gnomes in the 10th Age talk. They talk a LOT. One of their primary attributes is their ability to ramble from story to story ad nauseam without a break. This can be very demanding on a dungeon master. For this reason, I have created this handy set of tables to determine what story a forest gnome is going to tell.

This story is about...
1. a close relative (move to the Close Relations chart)
2. a distant relative (move to the Distant Relations chart)
3. a friend (move to the Friends chart)
4. a stranger (move to the Strangers chart)
5. an inanimate object (move to the Objects chart)
6. food (move to the Food chart)

Close Relations
1. my brother
2. my sister
3. my father
4. my mother
5. my aunt
6. my uncle
7. my first cousin
8. my niece
9. my nephew
10. a near ancestor (grandfather, grandmother, etc.)

Distant Relations
1. my first cousin twice removed
2. my second cousin
3. my third cousin
4. my cousin from another kingdom
5. a distant ancestor
6. a non-blood relative

Friends
1. my neighbor
2. my best friend
3. my best friend's friend
4. my most hated enemy
5. my father's friend
6. my mother's friend
7. my grandmother's friend
8. the local sheriff
9. a stableboy I know
10. a drunk friend of mine
11. a wizard's apprentice who I talk to sometimes
12. an adventurer I know

Strangers
1. a traveling merchant
2. a tin smith
3. a blacksmith
4. a cooper
5. a leatherworker
6. a woodsman
7. a farmer
8. a fisherman
9. a trapper or furrier
10. a gardener
11. an adventurer
12. a servant
13. a cow
14. a chicken
15. a pig
16. a rooster
17. a horse
18. a mule
19. a donkey
20. a ferret or squirrel

Once you have a person move to People, Stage Two

Inanimate Objects
1. a funny rock
2. a huge tree
3. a brook or river
4. a gross moss or lichen
5. a neat cave
6. a ruin I saw
7. a wagon
8. a broken barrel
9. a pond or lake
10. a well

Once you have an Inanimate Object, move to Inanimate Objects, Stage Two

Foods
1. a cheese that was so big
2. a cheese that was so tasty
3. a cut of pork that was enormous
4. a side of beef
5. a rasher of bacon cooked so well
6. something disgusting that I can't even describe
7. a stew made by a family member (roll on the family members chart)
8. a dinner cooked by a stranger (roll on the strangers chart)
9. a lunch made by a family member (family members chart)
10. a slice of veal
11. a cabbage
12. a meat pie
13. a delicious apple
14. a wormy apple
15. pears
16. a fine wine
17. a honey-mead
18. some melomel
19. a bunch of fried eels
20. a jar of olive oil

Once you have a food, move on to Foods Stage Two

[People, Stage Two]
1. ...met [another family member] at [location table].
2. ...met [a stranger] at [location table].
3. ...has a long-standing feud with [a family member].
4. ...has a long-standing feud with [a stranger].
5. ....ate a [food].
6. ...was getting married. And at the wedding there was this [food].
7. ...was at a halfling funeral where they served a [food].
8. ...got married last year.
9. ...got into a huge fight with [a stranger].
10. ...got into a huge fight with [a family member].
11. ...found this [inanimate object].
12. ...tripped over, fell into, or tumbled down this [inanimate object].
13. ...stole [anything] from [a stranger].
14. ...stole [anything] from [a friend].
15. ...stole [anything] from [a family member].
16. ...drank himself into a stupor and wandered around for a whole afternoon!
17. ...fell down a well.
18. ...got lost in the woods.
19. ...discovered a buried treasure.
20. ...was attacked by kobolds!

[Inanimate Objects, Stage Two]
1. ...was in my backyard, it turns out
2. ...was hiding the entrance to a lair of kobolds!
3. ...tripped my [family member] (or they fell into it)
4. ...tumbled down a dell when I was walking by. So I followed it and [twist].
5. ...was stuck in the road or otherwise transversed it
6. ...was hiding a goblin!
7. ...was used as a weapon in an ancient battle
8. ...was, I think, probably from the First Empire

[Foods, Stage Two]
1. ...was served at [my family member's] wedding
2. ...was used as a weapon in an ancient battle
3. ...was eaten by a count in the next county!
4. ...was eaten by [my family member] and made them extremely sick.
5. ...was eaten by [my family member] every day for a year and made them enormously fat.
6. ...was eaten by [a friend] and made them extremely sick.
7. ...was eaten by [a friend] every day for a year and made them enormously fat.
8. ...fell into an [inanimate object].
9. ...fell into the fire and made the house stink for days.
10. ...was full of worms!
11. ...ended the feud between [two of my family members]!
12. ...fell from the larder and smashed on the floor, the day before [a friend or a family member] was about to come over and eat it!

[and these things happened at...]
1. someone's house
2. a blacksmith's
3. the forest
4. a field
5. the village green
6. the communal oven
7. a road somewhere
8. the next town over
9. a temple
10. a roadside ruin
11. a roadside shrine
12. a roadside inn
13. a regular inn
14. a market or fair
15. a pilgrimage site
16. an abbey
17. a nearby city
18. a castle
19. a meadow
20. a marsh

[Relationships between two people in the story]
1. hated each other, ever since person A insulted person B's [anything]
2. got into a huge fight one time over [something inconsequential]
3. are great friends
4. sometimes trick other people for no reason
5. are related through [random relation]
6. live next to each other
7. have been lying to each other for years
8. don't know each other at all

The Player-Character Divide

These past days have been an intense study of the ways in which depth in settings can stymie efforts to portray those settings accurately to players. The heart of this problem lies, of course, at the player-character divide. My current group suffers from this much less than most others because if I provide a piece of setting material they instantly devour it and are prepared to move on into the great blue yonder and use the new knowledge that they've gained.

So let us say a few words about this strange and difficult divide. Players and their characters cannot always be assumed to share the same knowledge base. A man who has lived his entire life in the Third Empire of Miles will know far more about it than someone who comes to my table and asks to join in the game. While the wilderness parts of the 10th Age have a very low required threshold for playing, the urban and civilized regions have the opposite: without knowing a good deal about the culture and customs, you're likely to make a character that doesn't fit in or make any sense. Thus, whenever new players come to me I always give them the works—a link to the Atlas, a link to Cults, and a link to the Obsidian Portal page.

Thus, we can attempt to bridge the gap between assumed knowledge on the player's part and assumed knowledge on the part of the character. Players read up and pass the required knowledge threshold, and then play begins and the depths that were not explored in the setting become fleshed out through interaction. That's one way to handle it. Many groups, however, seem to be reading-averse. Can you start them in places that have a high threshold for playing? Probably, but the results are going to be less impressive to everyone around. They'll have to play a sort of improv game where they pretend to understand what people are talking about, or they'll have to turn to the DM and ask: "DM, would I know what this is?" or "What do I know about the area's history?" And of course, being the critical OSR DM that I am, I would glance at their sheet. Hmmm, no local history prof, I will think with a frown. They'll have to consult someone in the town.

And then they either do, and get the information that way and continue playing with a better understanding... or they don't, get quickly frustrated, and leave the game. I've seen it go both ways. Of course, positioning these new types in a wilderness portion of the setting is a tried and true method. They hardly need to know anything save some minor bits of interest about the area, maybe an extremely abbreviated history of their town. Playing rubes or hicks is the best way to get new players who don't want to read integrated into the setting, because then they can explore it at their own pace (without reading, if they don't want to).