Listen to the Serpent People

Sorry for the light posting lately. Work's been a bear. Lots of reading and writing. Meeting upon meeting upon meeting. It's been pretty exhausting. But anyway...

I'm working on the next session I'll run for the Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad campaign. It's tentatively titled "Temple of the Serpent God," and provides a little bit more insight into one of the races of our campaign world, the serpent people. In my story, the serpent people and lizard men were more or less two sides of the reptilian coin. The serpent people are on this side of it. That's them, right there.

All joking aside, I've mentioned in an earlier blog post that the lizard men are warrior and/or sailor types, vicious raiders. Their ophidian brethren, on the other hand, are philosophers, spies, cultists, and wizards. The lizards provide the brawn, and the serpents provide guile, technological and magical skill.

Here are thirteen rumors about the serpent people.

1. They crawled like snakes but have arms like men (sort of).
2. They wore (or didn't wear) clothes--two versions of this story.
3. They are skilled builders and artificers, and it is from them that the dwarves learned their skills, around the time of the coming of the first wave of what later would be termed the "Imperial" elves.
4. They are a myth, and never existed. They're merely degenerate forms of the Old Ones, as that race reached the Death part of their cycle. But they'll be back soon. They always come back.
5. Some wizards have grimoires made of the skins of serpent people, because of their magical properties.
6. The serpent people are, like the elves, from another place outside of reality.
7. The Viridians are descendants of the serpent people, a product of elven experiments gone awry.
8. The serpent people still walk among men, wearing the skins of human beings.
9. The serpent people are the offspring of dragons, and are frequently found in dragons' lairs.
10. The serpent people died of a fungal disease, released when their dwarven slaves dug too deep and found the Mushroom Kingdom.
11. The serpent people's skills as armorers were peerless, and collectors will pay big money for artifact weapons. People also say that wizards will kill the owners and take the weapons for their own use. No one knows why that would be.
12. Serpent people are venomous and and are capable of hypnotizing their prey.
13. Cold is the bane of the serpent people.

Can you think of anything else that might be true of the serpent people? Share your rumors and folklore in the comments or on G+.

I'll do anything for you (but I won't do that)

I have received a few direct requests recently to back, promote, review, or otherwise put some energy into other people's projects. It was kind of weird to me, and I sort of want to make it clear why I'm not planning to do this sort of thing, except in very rare instances.

The first is Time: I don't have time both to write about what I want to write about and to write about what others want me to write about. Your project may be completely fabulous, but I'm not interested in writing about your stuff unless it's also my stuff. As in, this is something I'm encountering in my games, in my own reading, etc. This blog is about me and my obsessions, and I don't want to do promotion or reviews for other people. I'm not a professional blogger and have no intentions of becoming one. That's too much like work, and, again, is time I don't get to spend on my own obsessions.

The second has to do with relationships. In each of these cases, I didn't know the person who was asking, and was unfamiliar with the project. I chose to promote something a while back, and that thing went all pear-shaped from what I've heard. I regret associating myself with another person's failed efforts. That was my bad decision, and reflects what I most want to avoid: Becoming a pimp for events I didn't organize, products I don't use, stories I'm not reading, games I'm not playing, or whatever. There's another aspect of this, of course. I've gotten to know a lot of people on the web, mostly through Google+. Some I've interacted with in comments threads and some I've played with; some I've even just hung out with in video chat, shooting the shit and talking about topics of mutual interest. The point here is that I'd be a lot more likely to want to write about someone else's project if I have an established relationship with that person. Hell, in many cases that person wouldn't even have to ask, because I'm interested in the first place. If I don't know you, though, I'm probably not going to respond to "I don't know you, but will you do something you would not otherwise be doing, but for me and not for you?"

For me, this is about my interests and about my relationships with people who share those interests. If something has nothing to do with either of those things, then probably I'm not going to blog about them or promote them. Please don't take it personally. It's not about you, it's about me.

Spheres of the Stalwart Hare

First, many thanks to Tim Shorts of Gothridge Manor for awarding me with the Best Newbie Blogger award. Also, welcome to those patrons he has sent my way, that they might be reading this here blog. Welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay. Anyway, onto the post...

A while ago (maybe three years back?) I decided that I was going to write my own game. I put in many hours on this Frankensteinian monstrosity of a system, trying to blend together parts from Warhammer Fantasy RPG, Talislanta, D&D and its various clones, and other bits and parts of my design and others'. I worked on it sort of obsessively-compulsively for about a month or two and then never played with it again.

It recently occurred to me that there are some parts in there that might be worth rescuing. One of these is what I called (somewhat anal-retentively) a Magical Focus Object, or MFO. Here's my original text:

At any point after 1^st level, a magic user may create a Magical Focus Object (MFO). It does not matter what object is used, but the process is relatively expensive, and final step (casting) will consume (and destroy) the materials used whether or not it succeeds.

To create a focus object, a magic user will require an object with which to endow the power of focus object (e.g., a staff, wand, etc.), and materials costing 100 sp x Caster Experience Level squared. Thus, a sixth level magic user would need to spend 100sp x 6 squared = 360 gp for their MFO, a very expensive undertaking.[Note: I'm using a silver standard for all costs.]

It is also very useful. The MFO doubles the effective mana pool for the spell caster, who may "charge" the MFO with raw mana, with prepared (e.g., "memorized") spells, or some combination of the two. Raw mana may be used to as part of the caster's mana pool for casting purposes. Prepared spells can be cast instantaneously, with only a single word or gesture, ignoring casting times.

The biggest drawback to the MFO is that it does not rise in level with its owner. Thus, a 2^nd level MFO will only ever be 2^nd level. This is offset by the fact that the caster may own (and carry) more than one MFO. However, each additional MFO creates the possibility for spell backlash, due to resonance with other MFOs. If the caster rolls a "Mishap" result on a casting roll, there is a possibility that any additional MFOs carried will explode, discharging its magical energy all at once. The spellcaster will take damage as if attacked with a Magic Missile spell of level equivalent to the exploding MFO.

If a casting mishap occurs where additional MFOs are carried, roll 1d6 for every additional MFO carried.

On a roll of "1" that MFO explodes; on a roll of "2" that MFO is destroyed without harming the caster; on any roll above 2, nothing else happens.

Caster takes level of exploding MFO times 1d6 in damage, with no possibility of saving throw. For example, a 4^th level MFO would cause 4d6 damage.

Now, that's one bad MFO!

While I never used this in play, I still kind of like the idea for a magic item of this kind for Dungeon Crawl Classics. Let's call them (as my title says) Spheres of the Stalwart Hare. And, yes, I'm thinking of this guy:

And I'm also thinking about how the SoTSH/MFO could be incorporated with DCC's Spellburn rule. The idea here is that the Wizard, as a class, may have options regarding spellburnt that are not already in the rules. One of these might be that he or she could store some of his or her vital essence in a magical object of some kind, to be drawn upon in times of great need. Here are a few properties that such an object should have to really plumb the depths of Appendix N flavor:

It should provide both great boons and great banes.

Great Boons

It really needs to be helpful, especially in a pinch, like when you're going up against a powerful enemy and/or your party is low on hit points and/or resources. If such a device could store the equivalent of 4 to 10 points of spellburn energy, it would be an immense boon to performing late-game feats of mystical daring-do. The stored energy in such a device should be enough to provide enough goodness to balance out the potential badness of having one of these little beauties fail to function as advertised.

Great Banes

Oh, I love those dogs!

Noooooo... Think about it more like "chaos explosion":

If one of those things goes off, it's very, very Bad News. 

My original idea was that an exploding MFO does the equivalent of 1d6 per "level" of object. The more energy it can store the more it has to release. However, what if we made that more subject to the chaotic nature of magical forces, and added a multiplier (or exponent?), say 1d3. So it would release 1d3 times the number of points "stored" in it. How many points could potentially be stored would depend on either (a) the power of the object, (b) the power of the user, or (c) both of those. I like Option C. So the potential energy of this object might include the following factors:

a. The power of the object--This could be represented as storage capacity. A level 3 MFO, for example could store up to its level squared in energy (spell casting points), or 9 points. 

b. The power of the user--This might even be seen as the user's ability to constrain the energy properly. So maybe a Will save to avert danger? Or maybe forcing the user to "channel" what we could call "negative energy," which would act as spellburning for Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution (or their equivalents for other games).

c. Both of these--Make it an opposed action of some kind, maybe by having the object trying to release all of its energy and the wizard trying to contain it. 

• So, the MFO "explodes" for 9 points of energy, or, alternately, 3 to the 1d3 power, if you want to get nasty (because, CHAOS!). 
• The Wizard rolls a Will save. Let's say he makes the save, which (channeling D&D here) reduces damage to half. Let's call it 5 points with rounding up. So the wizard must deal with 5 points of negative energy.
• Maybe in rolling his save, he beats it by 3 points. Perhaps this could reduce it further by the number of points above the save threshold. Three in this case. 
• This would leave a total of 2 points to deal with. The wizard takes 2 points from some combination of Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution, as per the DCC spellburn rules. Alternately, you could include Luck as one of these, or instead of these.

Other Ideas

You'll notice that the preceding only ever affects the Wizard with the magical energy. What if an exploding MFO affected others as well. Here are some variations on what could happen.

The sphere of effect is 1 yard per point of magical energy. Or square of the number of points in feet or yards? Within that sphere, some or all of the following could occur:

Damage in d3, d4, d6, or d8 (probably d6). We could do what I did originally and call it 1d6 per level of object. We could also do a straight point-for-point swap, and have it do 1 point damage per point of energy. This is easy, but not very chaotic. 

Corruption could also be a part of this. Have the affected PCs make a Fortitude or Will save. The result could be all or nothing or scaled. So if you fail you take it all. If you fail you take the number by which you failed.There's a lot of ways potentially that you could work this in to have the PC growing a third eye or set of nose tentacles. Lots of fun!

Anti-Magic Effects might be nice. Make it so that any caster affected must roll spell checks at a penalty until the penalty is dissipated by passage of time, or, better yet, but being used up. So, you have to cast spells in order to shed the penalty to spellcasting. All at once, or not? Not sure about that. I'd lean toward flexibility and increasing the number of choices for the player.

A Fun Table of Additional Fantastic Effects--While tables are fun, they tend to slow things down a bit. I think I'd prefer to use such a table only in the most dire of situations, like maybe when the save roll is a critical failure (however determined). Then something magical/insane happens in addition to the other stuff, in ways that fuck with the very substance of reality itself, at least for a while. So, rains of scorpions; pink, glowing fog; etc. Maybe we could even turn the MFO into a patron of some kind, endow it with a spirit even? That would lead to all kinds of fun, don't you think?

So, to sum up, like the idea of introducing this sort of thing into the DCC world. Spheres of the Stalwart Hare would be immense fun. For me, the payoff is to raise the stakes a bit, both in terms both of danger and reward. The effects should be powerful enough to be worth it, and dangerous enough to be fearful. It make magic use a bit less random by smoothing out some of the erraticness of casting, by allow the user to massage the roll a bit and, importantly, to avoid immediate debilitation from spellburn. So, it should also blend well with the existing rules for spellburning. 

What else would be good?

New DCC Patron: Atraz A'Zul, Mother of Spiders

Here's my first attempt (however rickety) at a patron for Dungeon Crawl Classics. I think all of the bits are included. Please feel free to provide commentary about how I might make it even better.

Atraz A'Zul, Mother of Spiders

Atraz A'Zul is a spider demoness of ancient lineage whose intrigues are manifold, subtlety legendary, and cold calculation uncompromising. She is the demon spirit of dark and quiet places and the unseen things that creep there. To form a bond with Atraz A'Zul, one must go into the desert and ingest the hallucinogenic spider known as the Dream Stalker. Atraz A'Zul will appear to the dreamer who must pledge his troth to her and her alone. Those who serve the demoness are expected to protect spiders, scorpions, and other poisonous vermin.

Invoke Patron check results:

12-13 Atraz A'zul answers the petitioner’s plea, but is contemplating dissymetries in her web of control, and is distracted by other matters. The caster receives +4 to his next attack, saving throw, skill check, or spell check.

14-17 The caster’s touch becomes poisonous. For the next 1d5+CL rounds, targets touched by the caster must succeed on a DC 10+CL Fortitude or take 1d5 per round of damage for the next 1d5 rounds.

18-19 For 1d4+CL rounds, the caster takes on the aspect of a giant spider (about the same size as a mule). His AC and Ref saves improve by +2, and with a successful Will save (DC 10), the caster can draw upon the essence of Atraz A'Zul gaining 2d4 hit points. If the caster critically fails the Will save by rolling a natural 1, he must burn 1d3 each of Strength, Agility, and Stamina.

20-23 Atraz A'Zul grants the caster the ability to see the connections between strands of the web of life for 1d6 rounds, during which he is able to gain a +3 to any roll.

24-27 The caster’s weapons become venomous. For the next 1d4+CL rounds, targets struck by the caster’s weapons must succeed on a DC 10+CL Fortitude save or fall paralyzed for 1d6 turns. The magic is associated with the caster’s weapons not the caster; while the magic persists, another character may attack with these weapons to gain the same benefit.

28-29 Atraz A'Zul grants the caster the ability to see the connections between strands of the web of life for 1d6 hours, during which he is able to gain a +3 to any roll. His allies may make any roll at +1.

30-31 The caster is able to summon a 2d6+2 HD Demon Spider. For 3d3+CL rounds, the caster may command it as if he were Atraz A'Zul herself. Demon Spider Init +4; bite +8 (1d10, poison) melee or web +8 missile (special: Ref save DC 15 or bound until released); AC 18; HD 6d12; MV 40’; Act 2d20; SP darkness (+6 spell check), demon traits; SV Fort +6, Ref +8, Will +6; AL L.

32+ Atraz A'Zul recreates the caster in her image and with her powers. For 1d12+CL rounds, the caster and five allies of his choosing receive +6 to AC and all saving throws, +5 to all attack, spell check, and damage rolls, and the caster receives 2d12 additional hit points. He also takes on the aspect of a spider, and may bite, cast webs as melee weapons, and make enhanced saving throws (act as Spider Demon in result 30-31, above), and use Spider Climb and Darkness spells at-will, with no spell check.

Patron Taint

1 – A variety of normal spiders appear when the caster casts any spell. They crawl everywhere, infest everything, and otherwise distract and annoy but otherwise do no harm. If this result is rolled a second time, the effect is amplified such that a host of spiders appears with each spell. The host is large enough to distract nearby creatures within 10’, both friend and foe (DC 8 Will save or -1 to all rolls for one round), though the caster is immune. If this result is rolled a third time, the spiders follow the caster constantly, day and night, whether he is casting spells or doing something else.

2 -- The caster is begins to grow long, stiff hairs on the outer parts of the arms and legs, shoulders, and back. These vary in color (1) Red (2) Grey (3) Orange (4) White (5) Blue (6) Other—GM picks. This may affect his ability to wear armor. If this result is rolled a second time, the caster begins to grow vestigial eyes, as a spider. These organs are not functional. If this result is rolled a third time, the caster's lower jaw begins to produce a pair of mandibles.

3 – The caster's diet begins to change. He craves insects, and begins to eat them in addition to his normal food. If this result is rolled a second time, the caster will only eat live insects or small vermin like rats, moles, or mice for sustenance. If the caster rolls this result a third time, he grows fangs and is able to poison his prey with a bite, paralyzing it (DC 13 Fort save) and dissolving the prey's innards after an hour. He may then suck out the liquefied matter.

4 – The caster becomes more reclusive, tends to use go-betweens to conduct business outside of his home. If this result is rolled a second time, the caster begins to construct his lair as would a spider, with many alarms to alert him to intruders and traps to hold them fast to be dealt with. If this result is rolled a third time, the caster grows spinnerets, and the ability to build webs. He is compelled to seek out a domicile where it is possible to build them, like an old barn or an abandoned ruin.

5 -- Whenever the caster casts a spell, his legs extend and change their joint structure. They look unsually long and thin for a period of 1d4 rounds, at which point his legs return to normal. (If a spell effect interacts with this, the spell effect takes precedent.) If this result is rolled a second time, the transformation is more complete, such that the caster’s legs truly resemble a spider’s legs for 1d4 turns. He does not gain any extraordinary climbing ability but scuttles in a way which looks strange, and grows four large bumps on his hips and torso, where a spiders legs might appear. If this result is rolled a third time, the caster’s legs permanently change into spider's legs, and the bumps sprout full-sized spider legs. He gains the ability to climb vertical surfaces at his normal movement rate.

6 -- When the caster casts a spell, tiny spiders emerge from his clothing. Then they scamper off into the shadows. If this result is rolled a second time, the spiders appear not just when the caster casts a spell but also 1d4 times randomly each day. It may be when the caster sits down to dinner, or tries to study a spellbook, or draws his dagger for combat: the spiders just appear. If this result is rolled a third time, some large and venomous spiders appear at times, and the presence of spiders becomes a permanent. They are always crawling in his vicinity and on his person.

Patron spells

Spider's Senses

Level: 1 (Atraz A'Zul) Range: Varies Duration: Varies Casting time: 1 round Save: None

Hidey Hole

Level: 2 (Atraz A'Zul) Range: 50 feet Duration: 1d6 rounds + CL Casting time: 1 round Save: None

Summon the Host

Level: 3 (Atraz A'Zul) Range: 50 feet Duration: Varies Casting time: 1 round Save: None

Spider's Senses

Level: 1 (Atraz A'Zul) Range: Varies Duration: Varies Casting time: 1 round Save: None

General: The caster's senses are enhanced, allowing him or her to sense even slight vibrations and perceive heat sources.

Manifestation: Roll 1d3: (1) The caster manifests glowing spider eyes in addition to his regular eyes; (2) the caster becomes a shadowy, spider-like figure; (3) web strands radiate out from the caster in a radius equal to the spell's area of effect (as rolled).

Roll

1          Lost, failure, and patron taint.

2-11     Lost, failure.

12-13   The caster can sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 50 feet, and gains infravision to 25 feet. The effect lasts for 1d3 rounds.

14-17   The caster can sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 100 feet, and gains infravision to 50 feet. The effect lasts for 1d4 rounds.

18-19   The caster can sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 150 feet, and gains infravision to 75 feet. The effect lasts for 2d4 rounds.

20-23   The caster can sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 150 feet, and gains infravision to 75 feet. In addition, the caster's keen senses allow him to sense threats to his person, adding +3 to his AC. The effect lasts for 2d4 rounds.

24-27   The caster literally can see through up to 5 feet of material (e.g., stone) as if through clear air. The caster can also sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 175 feet, and gains infravision to 85 feet. In addition, the caster's keen senses allow him to sense threats to his person, adding +4 to his AC. The effect lasts for 2d6 rounds.

28-29   The caster literally can see through up to 10 feet of material (e.g., stone) as if through clear air. The caster can also sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 200 feet, and gains infravision to 100 feet. In addition, the caster's keen senses allow him to sense threats to his person, adding +5 to his AC. The effect lasts for 1d4 turns.

30-31   The caster literally can see through up to 20 feet of material (e.g., stone) as if through clear air. The caster can also sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 225 feet, and gains infravision to 120 feet. In addition, the caster's keen senses allow him to sense threats to his person, adding +6 to his AC. The effect lasts for 1d6 turns.

32+ The caster literally can see through up to 20 feet of material (e.g., stone) as if through clear air. The caster can also sense other creatures through the vibrations in the soles of his feet and palms of his hands for a radius of 225 feet, and gains infravision to 120 feet. In addition, the caster's keen senses allow him to sense threats to his person, adding +6 to his AC. The effect lasts for 1d6 turns. In addition, the caster can remotely sense one person or thing of his choosing, no matter how distant.

Hidey Hole

Level: 2 (Atraz A'Zul) Range: 50 feet Duration: 1d6 rds. + CL Casting time: 1 round Save: None

General: The caster may take refuge in a pocket universe.

Manifestation: Roll 1d3: (1) A large door appears in front of the caster; (2) a whirlpool of dark energy sucks the caster into the floor; (3) the caster appears to go two-dimensional and to fold in on himself becoming smaller and smaller until he disappears.

Roll

1          Lost, failure, and patron taint.

2-11     Lost, failure.

12-13   The caster is transported into an unformed space of refuge. He is safe, but cannot do anything beyond thinking, as there are no real features to the place he inhabits. The effect lasts 1d6 rounds, after which the manifestation reverses itself and deposits him back at his starting point.

14-17   The caster is transported into an unformed space of refuge. He is safe, but cannot do anything beyond thinking, as there are no real features to the place he inhabits. The effect lasts 1d10 rounds, after which the manifestation reverses itself. He may return to any destination within 20 feet of his starting point.

18-19   The caster is transported into a small room of simple design. There is a small desk in the room, and an empty chest. He is safe, and may leave any one object in the chest for safe keeping; it will remain until he is able to return. Alternately, he may take one item out of the chest. (note—this chest is available in any hidey hole with defined spaces). The effect lasts 1d4 turns, after which the manifestation reverses itself. He may return to any destination within 50 feet of his starting point.

20-23   The caster is transported into a small, furnished apartment. There is a sitting room with a small desk and an empty chest. He is safe, and may leave any two objects in the chest for safe keeping; they will remain until he is able to return. Alternately, he may take up to two items out of the chest. (note—this chest is available in any hidey hole with defined spaces). The effect lasts 1d4 hours, after which the manifestation reverses itself. The caster may elect to return sooner, if he wishes. He may return to any destination within 50 feet of his starting point.

24-27   The caster and up to 4 members of his party are transported into a lavishly appointed suite with a sitting room, a dining room, and a bedroom. In the sitting room is an ornate desk and an empty chest. They are safe, and may leave any three objects in the chest for safe keeping; they will remain until he is able to return. Alternately, he may take up to three items out of the chest. (note—this chest is available in any hidey hole with defined spaces). The effect lasts 2d4 hours, after which the manifestation reverses itself. The caster may elect to return sooner, if he wishes. He may return to any destination within 100 yards of his starting point.

28-29   The caster and up to all members of his party are transported to a small wizard's tower with one of the following (apothecary cabinet and potion mixing table; a copy of his grimoire and the notes he has on the various spells he is learning; a bed in which he may rest). There is an ornate desk and an empty chest. They are safe, and may leave up to five objects in the chest for safe keeping; they will remain until he is able to return. Alternately, he may take up to five items out of the chest. (note—this chest is available in any hidey hole with defined spaces). The effect lasts 2d6 hours, after which the manifestation reverses itself. The caster may elect to return sooner, if he wishes. He may return to any destination within 1 mile of his starting point.

30-31   The caster and up to all members of his party are transported to a medium-sized wizard's tower with all of the following (apothecary cabinet and potion mixing table; a copy of his grimoire and the notes he has on the various spells he is learning; a beds in which they may rest; a dining room; a bathing area; a liquor cabinet). There is an ornate desk and an empty chest. He is safe, and may leave up to ten objects in the chest for safe keeping; they will remain until he is able to return. Alternately, he may take up to ten items out of the chest. (note—this chest is available in any hidey hole with defined spaces). The effect lasts 1d4 days, after which the manifestation reverses itself. The caster may elect to return sooner, if he wishes. He may return to any destination within 10 miles of his starting point.

32+      The caster and up to all members of his party are transported to a small castle in the clouds (or on a lava lake, or whatever) one of the following (apothecary cabinet and potion mixing table; a copy of his grimoire and the notes he has on the various spells he is learning; a bed in which he may rest). There is an ornate desk and an empty chest. He is safe, and may leave up to five objects in the chest for safe keeping; they will remain until he is able to return. Alternately, he may take up to three items out of the chest. (note—this chest is available in any hidey hole with defined spaces). The effect lasts as long as the caster wishes it to last, after which the manifestation reverses itself on his command. He may return to any place he has previously visited. 

Summon the Host

Level: 3 (Atraz A'Zul) Range: Varies Duration: Unlimited Casting time: 1 round Save: None

General: The caster summons spiders to do his bidding.

Manifestation: Roll 1d3: (1) A burst of webs spray out from the caster's fingers, each strand leading to a spider of some sort; (2) spiders appear around the caster with a popping sound and flashes of colored light (choose your own color); (3) the caster vomits up spiders; (4) the caster rips a hole in space about 8 feet above the floor and spiders stream through it.

Roll

1          Lost, failure, and patron taint.

2-11     Lost, failure.

12-13   The caster summons a rain of 1d10 small but venomous spiders in an 4 yard radius area centered on the caster. They will attack any creature in the area, but will not leave it. Poison requires DC 8 Fortitude save or take 1d4 damage per bite.

14-17   The caster summons a rain of 2d10 small but venomous spiders in an 6 yard radius area centered on the caster. They will attack any hostile creature in the area, but will not leave it. Poison requires DC 10 Fortitude save or take 2d4 damage per bite (2 points of damage with save).

18-19   The caster summons a rain of 1d10 large, venomous spiders in an 6 yard radius area centered on the caster. They will attack any hostile creature in the area, but will not leave it. Poison requires DC 10 Fortitude save or take 3d4 damage per bite (3 points of damage with save).

20-23   The caster summons a rain of 2d10 large, venomous spiders in an 9 yard radius area centered on the caster. They may be commanded by the caster, but will not venture more than 25 yards away from him. Poison requires DC 10 Fortitude save or take 4d4 damage per bite (4 points of damage with save).

24-27   The caster summons a rain of 2d10 large, venomous spiders in an 9 yard radius area centered on the caster. They may be commanded by the caster, but will not venture more than 25 yards away from him. Poison requires DC 10 Fortitude save or take 4d4 damage per bite and be paralyzed for 1 turn (4 points of damage with save).

28-29   The caster summons 1d6 monstrous spiders (medium) into a 12 yard radius area centered on the caster. They may be commanded by the caster, but will not venture more than 50 yards away from him. See Hypertext d20 SRD entry: http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/monstrousSpider.htm

30-31   The caster summons 1d6 monstrous spiders (large) into a 18 yard radius area centered on the caster. They may be commanded by the caster, but will not venture more than 75 yards away from him. See Hypertext d20 SRD entry: http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/monstrousSpider.htm

32+      The caster summons 1d6 monstrous spiders (huge) into a 25 yard radius area centered on a point of the caster's choosing. They may be commanded by the caster, but will not venture more than 100 yards away from him. See Hypertext d20 SRD entry: http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/monstrousSpider.htm 

Spellburn

1—Atraz A'Zul demands sustenance, supping from the caster's bodily fluids and leaving him diminished (expressed as Stamina, Strength, and Agility loss, evenly applied)

2—The demoness wants fresh prey. The caster may spellburn up to 10 points of ability score loss, but must pay twice that amount later, either from his own body for from a sacrifice.

3—The caster is poisoned in channeling the demoness's power, and must make a DC 12 Fort save or the spellburn costs twice as much (i.e., 2 points of attributes for 1 point toward the spell roll).

4—The caster has drawn the attention of his mistress. He must make a Will save (DC 15) if he makes it, he gets spell points at half the normal cost, but must learn a secret for the demoness (Quest for it). The spellburned attributes will not heal until this secret is passed on to the demoness. If he fails the save, the spellburn cost is normal, and he still must learn a secret before it is healed.

Simple Weapon Damage

Monstrous Television just blew my mind with this elegant mechanic for AD&D:

Characters wielding one handed weapons deal damage equal to their hit dice. Two handed weapons (or one-handed weapons held with two hands) increase the die by one size. "Light" weapons (daggers, knives, spiked gauntlets) and improvised weapons (broken bottle, fire place pokers) decrease the dice by one size, as do all missile weapons. Anything dealing less than 1-3 damage rounds up to that point. No change based on the size of the opponent. 

Read the whole thing if you want to see the mathematics involved. I think this solves a lot of problems. It's never been clear to me that adding excessive "crunch" to the (ever expanding) weapons list ever did much but promote power gaming. Nobody chose to have a bastard sword because of their character concepts, did they? It was about maximizing damage.

This, on the other hand, simply makes the character choose light/one-handed/two-handed. The rest is handled by the class HD. Nothing else to know, really.

I think this might be my next house rule.

Some Thoughts About the Target 20 Mechanic

I finally got a chance to play Stars Without Number, last night, with James Aulds. It was a lot of fun. Also had a chance to game with a bunch of people with whom I'd not gamed before. So, thanks to Eric, Gus, and Peter, as well. On a side note, playing SWN really made me want to try out Other Dust sometime really soon. So much potential fun there.

I've been meaning to play this game at some point, but haven't had the chance up until now. It gave me a chance to play with a few mechanics I'd not used before. One, which I may write about later, was using 2d6+Attribute Mod+Skill Level for skill checks. I like this a lot and may want to hack it in some way for DCC, later. The other, which I will write about today, is the "Target 20" mechanic for combat resolution. As stated in the rulebook:

Roll 1d20...
+ target’s Armor Class 18 [this is descending AC, btw]+ attacker’s Combat skill
+ attacker’s attribute modifier
+ attacker’s Attack Bonus
If the total is 20 or greater then the attack hits. A natural roll of 1 always misses, and a natural roll of 20 always hits.

So, for example, if I'm a warrior type character with skill in a 15 DEX and skill in Combat (Energy Weapons), but no other modifiers (e.g., Attack Bonus) attacks an opponent with AC 2, the sum of the d20 roll +2 AC +1 for DEX +1 for Skill  must equal 20.

In order for this to succeed, our warrior would need to get a 16. I really enjoyed using this mechanic. I'd heard about it a bunch of times while reading others' blogs, but I must confess that I had a hard time getting my head around it in the abstract. In play, it's intuitive and super quick and simple. As James Aulds said, it's easy-peasy.

I got to thinking, though, about whether it could be adapted to ascending armor class, without to conversion to descending. Unfortunately, I don't have sufficient ranks in Profession (Mathematician) to figure this out. In my head, I see it working like this:

Roll d20
- (minus) target's Armor Class [ascending]+ attacker’s Combat skill
+ attacker’s attribute modifier
+ attacker’s Attack Bonus

So, using the same equation, we get: d20 - 18 AC +1 for DEX +1 for Skill. A roll of 16 on the d20 gets us a total of... zero. Does this mean that the new target number for the mechanic is zero? I'm not certain that I've got this quite right in my mind. Does it work? ... Anyone? ... Anyone? ... Bueller? "Target Zero" does sound a bit sexier than "Target 20," I think, so there's that.

I also started thinking about other "Target" numbers that might allow for the use of other dice, like a Target 30 mechanic (or even Target 24) to allow use of my Zocchi dice, if I'm using this for DCC. I'm not sure this is worth doing, though, as it starts to muck about with the simplicity of the d20 roll. Plus, Zocchi dice are way too expensive, and not everyone uses them.

One could use this for DCC pretty easily. It wouldn't require a skill system. DCC already lets you add level to rolls. The type of roll for which you get this bonus depends on class (Warriors get it to hit, Magic Users and Clerics for spell checks, etc.). There's your "skill" portion of the equation, though it limits the "skill" to the specific profession. This might be problematic, but then we could just assume that the combination of background and class gives the character certain default skills, like is done in the Warhammer Fantasy RPG career system, then the individual characters' skillsets are pretty intuitive and flexible as well.

DCC also uses attribute modifiers, and these can be added as well, though they're potentially higher in DCC than in Stars Without Number (which sets a lower ceiling and floor on them).

DCC also allows for an attack bonus. Warriors and Dwarves benefit the most from this (as they use a variable "deed die" which grants a minimum of 1 to the roll), but all classes get attack bonus advancement with level progression.

So, using the Target Zero mechanic for DCC would work something like this for our Warrior, whom we shall call Randomus Examplesson.

Randomus Examplesson is a 1st level warrior with a 13 STR (+1 mod). He's about to bury an axe in the head of a target with 18 AC (ascending). We will assume that his Luck mod is zero for this example. So he would roll the following:

Roll d20
- (minus) target's Armor Class 18 [ascending]+ Deed Die (1d3)
+ Strength Modifier (+1)
+ Favored Weapon (Luck Modifier) (0)

Again, Randomus Examplesson would need to get somewhere between 14 and 16 on the d20 (variable due to the variability of the Deed Die) to hit Target Zero.

I kind of like it, but I'm just not sure it's worth doing it differently when the regular d20 mechanic of d20 + Deed Die + STR Mod + Favored Weapon Mod  >/= Target AC seems to work just fine, though maybe it would be easier to use the Target # system to "hide" monster AC stat from players. Not sure if the mechanic matters there, though.

Why would I adopt a Target # mechanic instead of just using the Roll vs. AC mechanic? Anybody have a good reason I should choose to use one or the other?

One in The Pipe and Fifteen in The Clip: The use of understudies in DCC

Disclaimer: I know I'm not the first person to look at the relationship between PCs and henchmen/hirelings, and I'm sure that I'm not the only person to do this for DCC. However, I cannot for the life of me remember where I read about it before, so please let me know if you've seen it done, and where you saw it, so's I can post links to others' thoughts as well.

As I've played in and run several sessions of DCC, something keeps coming up in the real-life/virtual tabletop discussion: What happens if you level up a character and that then that guy dies? Do you:

A. Roll up more zero-level mooks and hope for the best.
B. Generate a character at exactly the same level as before, to replace the one you just lost.
C. Have understudies for each of your characters, what someone (see Disclaimer above) referred to as a "stable" of characters.
D. Do something completely different than A, B, or C, because those are pretty fucking stupid, Edgar, and you need to do better, like this (provides example).

Well, I know that "D" is most likely to be the most popular answer, you snarky bastards, and I'll leave further responses in that vein to you.

In the meantime, I'll provide what I think is MY best answer: It's "C" (yeah, isn't it always?).

Now, I can see "B" or "A" working for your random FLAILSNAILS drop-in players. Well and good. However, for players who stick around my campaign, I can't help but think that having more than one character to play would be a good thing. This game is deadly. People die often. They need to be replaced. Why not take that as granted, and build in a mechanism whereby it could happen as a matter of course?

For example, once a DCC zero-level mook achieves first level, one of the things he/she can do it hire an understudy (or two or three--whatever). This understudy gets paid a share of the take, has upkeep costs, and can be called upon to do things appropriate to his/her roll. This person would gain experience points just like the PC, and would earn them for their "apprenticeship" under the PC.

Caveat: It would be important that the zero-level character have some real reason for his/her apprenticeship. So, a warrior probably would have an understudy who actually could become a decent fighter. A wizard would have to have someone of at least modestly robust intelligence, and so forth. This, of course, it much easier if you are a dwarf, elf, or halfling. However, I would suggest that the understudy have a score of no less than 9 in the requisite characteristic. Franz the Fighter should not have an understudy who cannot lift a sword. Alaric the Cleric shouldn't have a weak-willed apprentice with no personality. Zoranth the Wizard shouldn't have an apprentice as dumb as the proverbial post. Billy Blacktooth the Thief needs an apprentice who won't get caught for being fumble-fingered.

If a character choose not to take on an understudy, that's fine. But if he/she dies, then there's no one to step into the now-empty shoes. Back to zero. Roll up your mooks. If the same character has one or more understudies, then presumably they can step up and continue the adventure (and take their master or mistress's stuff and loot, as well).

The beauty of it is that it even works at higher levels. If you have a PC who is 3rd level, for example, and has kept an understudy alive through his/her adventures, then presumably the understudy would be, at worst, at 1st or 2nd level. That's a bit of a hit to take, but would still provide a viable character for the current (presumably 3rd level) adventure.

Some other thoughts.

You have to pay the person, and keep them in room and board. There is a cost to this.  I'm guessing one silver piece a week is a good wage. If the understudy levels, then you multiply it by 10, perhaps.

Morale is important. If the PC keeps using the understudy as a meat-shield, then the understudy may rethink his or her career options. Maybe after taking a sword in the face, that whole turnip farmer thing starts looking a lot better. I won't speak for the gong-farmer, however. The GM would have to think about this a bit. Yes, the understudy is a PC, technically, but he/she is also "The Help." You treat The Help like crap, then your soup gets spit in, your belongings disappear, you have problems with attendance, and so forth.

It might be a good idea to establish a home for one's PC. Not  a stronghold, mind you, but a place to keep the trophies and the laboratory and the extra tools and loot, when one is not out adventuring. The player's "stable" of characters, one presumes, could safely remain behind at the house when not needed. One could also, perhaps, maintain a household of understudies of various sorts, to be trotted out as needed, to gain experience, and to do whatever it is that they do with the PC of record.

What thoughts might you add to this?

Return to the Crypt of the Lizard King, part 1

So, now I get a chance to do something I've never done before. Well, I guess it's actually two things I've never done before.

First, I get to run an adventure I've already run, but with a completely different group (Hence the whole "Return to the Crypt of the Lizard King" thing in the title up there. Also, I get to game with may daughter at the same time as I'm gaming with my longterm, adult players (guys in the 30-40 yr. old range).

Any guesses who in the party was the most bloodthirsty? Yeah... my kid. I'm not sure what that says about me as a parent. Hehe. Daddy? Can I go out and... KILL TONIGHT? (<--See? Bloody letters.)

We started out a little later than I thought we might, as John worked pretty late the night before and wasn't up until about 30 minutes before game time. He arrived about half an hour late, and then we got started.

It was clear from the start that our dynamic at the table was a bit different than it has been before. One factor certainly was the kid. She's hell bent on doing SOMETHING! ANYTHING! Sometimes she wants to do it when it's not her turn, and sometimes she wants to do it when it has no bearing on anything else that's going on around her. Ahhhhhhh... to be 11 again. Occasionally, it was disruptive, but not too badly, and it provided many, many opportunities for kid-targeted humor. John's a sarcastic old bastard, and was more than willing to "be himself." Good times. It also didn't help that the kid kept feeding us straight line after straight line, forcing us to suppress our inner Beavises and Buttheads, at least for the day.

In any event, John found that he was able to harness The Girl's bloodthirstiness for some really excellent gameplay. "Sure, kid, you can be in the first rank with your 0-level mooks. Go right ahead." Oddly, The Girl managed to get through the game unscathed, because holy crap can she roll the dice! Lots of high numbers for her, and considerably less for the others.

Jason, another of my longtime players, kept the following gameplay log, which shows a remarkably similar arc to the first time I ran the adventure. This time, though, I noticed a subtle difference. The tension, the fear of losing one's characters, was palpable at the table. Mortality was our constant companion. I'm not saying that the group didn't want to mix it up with the baddies, but there was definitely a sense that IT COULD END BADLY, and a concomitant deliberateness in how the players (except for The Girl, of course) approached things.

Here's Jason's take on things, with some additional material (by me) in orange.

Shipwrecked on the way to Ur'Hadad.  The ship “Sea Pig” was carrying the party to Ur-Hadad to sell the PCs as slaves.

As dawn breaks, on the shore at the wrecked ship.  The first mate orders the party to all gather up.  It is assumed that they are still going to try and put them back into servitude.

The first mate is stabbed by Lucy's character, he also deals 4 points of damage to “Samantha”. 

This was possibly the most hilarious part of the whole "little girl playing D&D with grumpy old men" thing we had going on today. The Girl's characters are named as, well, what a little girl who watches too much Nickelodeon and Disney might name them: Samantha, Hope, Crystal, and Skylar (the only boy in her group). There was much mirth, and some talk of "a bunch of strippers and that one gay guy" (not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you).

After the stabbing, the cabin boy ran toward the village of Redflood. The First Mate, seeing that the freed slaves planned on remaining free (and taking a shiv in the back from The Girl), also fled that way.

The first mate identifies slaver in Ur-Hadad that the PCs were being taken to as Amal.

I totally pulled that name out of my ass when Jason's Jester character was interrogating the First Mate of the Sea Pig, after catching up with him on the way to the village. So, for future reference, there is a slaver named Amal in Ur-Hadad.

First mate runs towards the village.  John stops Lucy from chasing him. 

She was gonna kill him, and actually made a fairly impressive and impassioned speech about how there was no way she was gonna become a slave again, after having escaped. John's lawful character wanted to rein in the bloodshed a bit. It also provided him with a chance to provide an avuncular explanation of what happens to unconstrained chaotic characters who just kill, and kill, and kill without concern for the various ramifications and consequences of their actions. "Lucy," he asked, "are you familiar with the term "friendly fire," by chance?" Cooler heads prevailed.

Sunken city to the east of Ur-Hadad called Tarantis.

Again, I was trying to work both my conception and Adam's of the relationship between Ur-Hadad and the Sunken City into the narrative flavor.

Search of the wreck of the ship.  Find one small cask (gallon) of brandy.  Taken for potential barter.

When I rolled, the outcomes indicated pretty much nothing survived the wreck. My explanation was strong currents and tides (*shrug*). The dice told a tale, and I made sense of it as best I could. My players were somewhat disappointed that their characters' livestock died in passage, but what can you do? They were enslaved. Their favorite cow and chicken didn't fully embrace "the bondsman lifestyle."

Headed to Redflood (fishing village) just down the coast.

There was some talk of going overland, straight to Ur-Hadad, prior to this. That would have run the adventure off the rails a bit, I think. I probably would simply have gone with Perils of the Sunken City if it had gone that way. It didn't end up happening, though. Instead, they approached Redflood, going past the tannery and the smokehouse. They saw:

Group of villagers talking animatedly watching some guy talking over everyone else.

Healer and missing daughter (possibly taken by bandits).  Townsfolk overly concerned about the rescue of the healer.  Took many years to replace the last one that went missing.

A hunter possibly saw the bandits (about 10 miles out).  The bandits were mounted (horseback).

Having gleaned the very obvious plot hook from this exchange (Yeah, Jason literally said, "Oh, look! A plot hook!" or some such shit. My players are not oblivious, you know.) they began to negotiate the price of rescue. Instead of trying to budge Ariz, the town elder, on his price for the heads of the bandits and the return of the healer/her daughter, Jason's character instead tried to get them to give up some supplies and equipment. This left me with a little bit of a quandary. How to get through this without over-supplying them? 

Well, to me it seemed logical that even a large fishing village like this one probably didn't have a whole lot of war-fighting capability, and that some resources and skillsets used for making weapons and armor might be scarce. So, the blacksmith had time to make them some crude spears, and the tanner was able to patch together a bit of crude leather armor, but in limited quantities.

Equipment gained:

4 spears, 3 sets of leather armor, food (salted fish) – 1 weeks rations, water, mule (pack animal)

–                    distributed among the party – 2 spears John, 2 Jason, & 1 armor each all

Also, the party got to witness the First Mate and Cabin Boy get into a fight. The First Mate, it appeared, was trying to make the best of a bad situation. He attempted to take the Cabin Boy captive, and had hopes of selling him in Ur-Hadad. The Cabin Boy took violent exception to this plan, and straight shanked him LIKE A BOSS. I'm sort of surprised the party didn't try to recruit a boy of such mettle. Lucy could have named him Corbin Bleu or something, maybe.

No additional goods were found on the beach from the wreck the day before.

The party heads east to an old wolf's den (where the bandits are estimated to be holed up).

On the path to the den, the party finds some winged monkeys in the trees.  The party throws stones at the monkeys who then attack.  

This was unintentionally hilarious, to me. I had thought that they would simply ignore the monkeys, who would, in turn, ignore them. But they threw rocks. 

A brief aside: When I was in the Marine Corps, back in the day, I had occasion to visit the Naval Station at Subic Bay, Philippines. We were warned not to mess with the monkeys at all. They, apparently, are vicious when bothered, strong, and incredibly accurate with thrown objects (of whatever sort). They are to be feared, especially in large groups. There were 13 Monkey Bats here. The PCs managed to wing one, and John's animal trainer tried to "save" it, but to no avail. Yeah, who's the little girl now, John?

Jason has two characters hit in the ensuing round [1d3 bite attack] and those two go down (first casualties = Radish Farmer and Astrologer).  The party retreats to the river nearby and out of the monkeys' territory.  After some time, Jason's characters sneak back in and pilfer the dead bodies once the monkeys disperse.

At dusk, Jason's halfling and another of John's character move across into the hills and investigate an opening and find the bandit's camp.  Sounds of two people from inside playing dice.  Retreat to retrieve the rest of the party and inform about what was found.

This was a really interesting part of the adventure, for me. The players were beginning to see exactly how deadly things could be, and were proceeding very cautiously. They made excellent tactical plans. Like the first time I ran this, they managed to draw the bandits out of the cave to investigate some sounds. Like before, they proceeded to kill them without alerting the other guards, inside the cave. Well done, all around.

The party moved up to the entrance of the cave that was found previously.  A plan is devised to draw the bandits from the cave by using someone as bait.  The entrance is mostly blocked by brush (though that at the entrance is broken as if something large had been moved through previously).

Tricks the bandits out of the cave and they attack.  Surprise attack deals damage but doesn't drop them.  Subsequent attacks drop the [wounded] one.   The second one drops in short order.

Moving into cave (and taking the heads from the two that were killed), the party finds two recently turned earthen mounds inside.  There are three horses and a mule inside.

Bandit guarding the passageway down the other side has his throat slit while he was sleeping by one of Lucy's characters.

Yes, sweetie, you can go out and kill tonight. This was actually pretty awesome, her attempt to be stealthy and to kill him silently resulted in a natural 20 roll. With such a critical success, she was able to kill him without raising any kind of ruckus. Well done, Lucy!

Further chamber had three other bandits to fight (one leveled w/ chain mail armor) [This was the bandit leader].  Firebomb did not hit (John missed, wide right).  Fight ensued with 2 of Lucy's swordmaidens leading the charge.  [Again at John's urging. He is nothing if not practical in the employment of my bloodthirsty offspring. Again, she kills the hell out of some bandits.] Spearmen were able to attack from the back row.  In the room (after dispatching the three) the party finds one wounded bandit, and the healer is chained to the wall.

They dispatched the wounded bandit, who, to be fair, was not going to recover from his wounds, anyway. So, after they looted the place and found out from the healer that her daughter was missing, we called it good for the day. This was a suitable stopping point. Next time, they find out what's behind the crudely constructed barricade of stones and brush blocking that other tunnel, with leads off to the east.

41 silver found

8 bandit heads gathered

Quest to find the daughter … will resume on the next game (the side passageway).

Session 3 Recap--Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad: Crypt of the Lizard King

Let me begin by saying that I managed to dodge a bullet with this session. When I sent out the event notice, I wasn't really thinking things through. I posted it to my gaming circle. There's only about 115 people in it, but still... 115 people is a lot to invite to one session. I ended up getting two new players to accept the invite (only one actually played), but the number of "Maybe" responses had me scared that I might have to tell a bunch of people that they couldn't play, and right after inviting them to do so. How rude! Fortunately, this didn't actually come to pass.

However, in anticipating the crowd, I was left with a bit of a quandary. Since this adventure was almost complete (only the main encounter to go), I was left wondering if that would be satisfying to the new players. I mean I pimp this campaign a lot, and send out an invite to do a couple and a half hours of gaming, and potentially it could be over and done in about 45 minutes or an hour? What a letdown! So, I did something about it. I produced an "extra" level of content for the adventure, something to add some more potential encounters and to pad the length of it a bit. I tried really hard while doing so to ensure that the new content and the already-written content would play well together. I think the result was a good one. One of the encounters (which I'll discuss presently) was good enough that Adam M. remarked that it alone was worth the price of admission. That's high praise indeed, and all for a little bit of one-off weirdness that I'd hoped would foreshadow another adventure arc. Good stuff.

So, when last we left our adventurers, they had climbed through a sarcophagus and down a shaft that it concealed, and found themselves in a small, unadorned room carved from the native rock of this place. A wide stairway led down into darkness. Originally, the stairway led to the "The Crystal Ship" room of the adventure, where they would do the whole "Boss Fight" thing with some undead creatures I called "crocodogs." I imagined them to look like a cross between this:

And this:

In any case, they would encounter those creatures (and an enhanced number of them) later.

Area 13: Take It as It Comes

Featureless room with staircase descending to south.

So, waiting to go down the stairway were:

• Adam, playing a Corn Farmer, a Barber, and an Elven Sage. Adam opted to leave his characters nameless until they had survived the funnel. Oddly enough, he would be the player to bring the most characters through the adventure, with three survivors.
• Bear, playing Ferris Umberton (halfling vagrant), Corm (our last urchin), Andro Aleus (elven falconer), and Vane Barbute (Armorer)
• Gabriel, playing Norring (dwarven miner) and Ian (minstrel)
• James (our new player), playing Miff Sapsipper (elven navigator), Lardo Cutpurssian (merchant), Crag Beerbeard (dwarven blacksmith), and Michaelangelo Aggrosong (cooper).
• Wayne, playing Clave Naglioni (turnip farmer) and Denny Smedd (confidence artist).

They also were accompanied by the bandit leader, the only survivor of that group, who was elected to take point.

As they descended the long stairway, a landing was revealed: a large area with doors to the east, south, and west.

Area 14: The End

Pit trap triggered by use of any of these doors. 20 feet deep with spikes (2d6+1d4)

The players were suspicious of the landing (and rightly so). Gabriel (I think) decided to pour some water on the flagstones of the landing, and it drained away rapidly. After tying a rope around the bandit leader's waist, they persuaded him to step down onto the flagstones. Nothing happened. However, they determined that the floor sounded a bit different than solid stone would, and decided to pry up a flagstone. Below it was wooden subflooring. Hmm... so maybe something funny was going on here after all. They tried to pry up a board as well, but I told them the boards were too long for that. Instead, they told the bandit leader to open the east door.

As soon as he opened it, the floor collapsed, revealing a pit 25 feet deep, with great bronze spikes mounted in the floor. A strength check was made by those holding the rope, so the weight of the bandit leader didn't drag them to their dooms. The collapse also furnishes the PCs with some boards, which they use to bridge the gap created by the collapse of the floor. Ferris the halfling vagrant is chosen, because he's the lightest, to cross into the east room.

Area 16: Shaman's Blues

Two lizardman tomb guardians guarding a large altar with a gigantic snake statue of that unknown black metal. It probably weighs about 400 lbs.

There is an altar in there, and some of the lizard man tomb guardians (or "taxilizard" as they are now known colloquially). Ferris flees, and the players yank the board back, but the creature leaps the gap and is suddenly in their midst. Almost immediately Ferris is killed by a lizard man tomb guardian. Vane Barbute (aka The Hammerer) hammers the creature to death, avenging him. They manage to kill the other one as well.

A search of the room reveals an altar carved from the stone of this place, of a piece with the floor. This whole level, it seems is carved out of the native rock, including the furnishings. On the altar is a huge snake idol, made of that mysterious black metal, its scales enameled in green. Again, it probably weighs about 400 pounds, so it's not going anywhere.

Gabriel has the idea to set a lantern on one of the boards and to shove it ahead of them, to light the way. I ask him to roll against Luck. Yeah, he fails. Yeah, it falls into the pit. Yeah, it breaks and ignites the wood from the subflooring. The PCs are forced to move quickly into the south room.

Area 17: Been Down So Long

In this room is a large fountain, now dry. Two lizardman tomb guardians are here. In the fountain are some bones, seemingly a combination of snake or fish bones and humanoid bones. Also there are two shiny red stones and a short sword made of black metal.

If the PCs disturb the bones, dark smoke will suddenly gather around them, coalescing into a serpent man figure. The serpent man wields the blade. The stones are his eyes.

The players take a little while to make the crossing. While they do so, the tomb guardians attack. It takes some doing to kill them, and I believe it was Miff Sapsipper, James's elven navigator, who bit the dust here. One of them examines the contents of the fountain, and picks up one of the "eyes." The serpent man guardian coalesces around the eye, and shortly that PC finds himself with a handful of trouble.

At this point I'm realizing that I need to do a bit better job recording who died, where, when, and how, as the chat log from Roll20 doesn't contain all answers to these questions. Needless to say, the players manage to get past this area, and decide to explore southward. This would take them to the material I had written originally, before adding this level. They also decided not to open the west door. We'll come back to that, later.

They send the bandit down first, though he is now insisting that his contribution rates him a share of the treasure. They offer him the eyes of the serpent man guardian. He accepts, but they caution him not to pick them up just yet, having seen what happened last time. 

When they reach the bottom of the steps, they find a huge, open archway leading into the final area of the dungeon. Here's the flavor text.

Area 18. The Crystal Ship

As the players approach the arch, they should see two squat pedestals about 8 feet high. On each sits what seems to be a large, stone statue. Each is slightly different, and resembles a cross between a crocodile with a vestigial tail and a bulldog. These sit about 10 feet in from the arch. Any player that crosses the room and passes them, will wake the Crocodog Guardians.

Past the pedestals sits a gigantic ship made of some sort of glassy material. The material is smooth to the touch, and a warm amber color. The ship is surrounded by a shallow pool, now mostly dry, about 6 feet deep. The water has drained away into the large fissure to the port side of the ship. The break in the stone is very fresh, and a cool, damp breeze blows steadily up from it. From below the PCs can faintly hear the roar of rushing water.

On a stone bier on the ship's deck rests the remains of a lizardman. He bears a jagged spear of black metal and wearing the same kind of armor as the statue in Area 10, including a stunning helm of blue-green jewel-toned chitin. 

Originally, I only had 2 of the crocodog guardians. In anticipation of a larger party, I bumped that to 4. This almost resulted in a TPK, partly because of how we've been handling combat (i.e., one action per player per round). After a little bit of combat, it became clear that the players needed to be able to make all of their attacks (and hence to use more than one PC per combat round) if they hoped to survive. I graciously agreed (for I am nothing if not gracious) to let that happen. And it was a damned good thing, too. They rolled terribly, and so did I. The combat broke up into about four different battles as each player marshalled his own troops. Slowly, they began to work together as a group, and to gang up on the crocodogs a bit instead of spreading out the attacks. By the end of the fight, Corm the Urchin, Andro the Elven Falconer, and Michaelangelo the Cooper were casualties of the crocodog guardians (at least so much as I can remember--correct me if I'm wrong about that).

Heard from Vane Barbute the Armorer during this fight:

"Hey, crocodog! You know the difference between your mother and a washing machine? When I dump a load in a washing machine, it doesn't follow me around for 3 weeks!"

It was then time to loot the joint. They made their ways up to the deck of the Crystal Ship.

Flanking the bier are two stone chests made of the same material as the ship. They are elaborately carved and probably weigh about 17 stone each.

They asked the bandit to use a crowbar to lever the tops off the chests they found there, revealing the following:

The first chest seems to have been filled with a variety of clay bottles, now dry. The vessels themselves are alien in design, and might be worth something to the right buyer. There are several chunks of raw amber totaling about a pound, and several large pearls in here, worth 15, 25, 26, 27, 37, 39, 40, and 44 s.p. each.

The other chest contains 5 large, burnt-looking chunks of an unknown metallic mineral (totaling 21 pounds). It's actually star metal, and may be worth something to right smith or wizard.

Once they did the looting of the chests, there was the little matter of the Lizard King, and his treasure. Three players were in the race to see who got first pick of this. Adam had bowed out at this point, anticipating that he would be running the next campaign arc and didn't really need anything else. I decided to do something to decide it randomly. I had each player use the die-roller in Roll20 to roll 5 13-sided dice. This emulated a poker hand, with 1 being an Ace and 13 being a King. And, yes, I realize that the app has a card deck feature, but I'm not keen on it. I just used dice. They worked fine. In the end, Gabriel picked first, then Bear, and then Wayne got what was left.

Gabriel picked the helm. 

Item 2: Helm of The Lizard King

Type: Helmet; AL C; Powers: (see below).

• If someone puts on this helm, it will bond closely and permanently to the person's head. The helm may be removed by magical means, but no mundane means short of decapitation will do so.
• Wearer gains a 3 point bonus to for any task involving influence, leadership, or persuasion.
• Grants the wearer the ability to find his or her way while afloat on water, and to detect currents and hazards like rocks, reefs, whirlpools or storms.
• Unless the wearer is of chaotic alignment, he or she will lose 1 hit point per day unless the helm is removed.

His lawful dwarven miner donned the helm and immediately took 1 point of damage. He only had one hit point. He died. Ooops! I totally didn't mean to kill him, but them's the breaks. It was decided that YES, THE OTHER GUY IS CHAOTIC! So, he donned the helm, and came to no harm in doing so.

Bear (I think) picked the armor. The players didn't know it yet, but it's the same as the helm in nature. I was asked about its nature, and sort of said (making it up as I went) that it was crafted from sea dragon scales. Later, I told Adam that it has the same AC as half plate (17), but is only as encumbering as banded mail. It also has the unfortunate effect of bonding permanently to the wearer's body. If the wearer is Chaotic, no problem. If not, same damage as the helm: 1 point of damage per day, a blood price for the protection of the great sea dragons.

Wayne got the spear:

Item 1: Spear of The Lizard King

The Spear of the Lizard King is a fearsome-looking, bloodthirsty and willful weapon, with a preternaturally sharp, serrated blade of an unfamiliar, incredibly hard black metal. It will continually urge its user to seek power, to slay all enemies, and otherwise to dominate people and situations. This dynamic emerges as the user becomes more attuned to it.

Type: Spear (1d8+1d3 damage); AL C; +1 to hit (or +2 if previous hit drew blood); Int. 4; Comm.: Simple urges/ Bane (Warriors)/ Special Purpose: Dominate All Others; Power: Cleave. Each time an enemy is slain with this weapon, the wielder automatically receives another attack against the nearest creature at +1 to the existing bonus (this bonus can continue to stack to +2, +3, etc.) but the wielder does not gain an additional move. If the creature to be attacked is an Ally, the wielder must make a Will Save at the negative of the to-hit bonus or strike the ally (i.e., if it's at +2 to hit, then it's at -2 to the Will Save to avoid attacking the ally).

It's so black metal it kills its friends. Fun!

So they gathered up their loot and went back upstairs. Before leaving, they decided to look in the last, unopened door. Here's what they found:

Area 15: Soul Kitchen

Mushroom men eating the fresh corpse of a large lizard. There is also a large hole leading down into blackness. If disturbed, they will quickly flee back down the hole. A river can be heard rushing below. Cool, moist air blows up from the hole.

The players, understandably, were charmed by the idea of mushroom men eating the dead lizard (corpse! The other, other, other white meat!), and a laugh was had by all.

What they did not realize, probably, is that this was supposed to foreshadow what they might find should they venture into the fissures. But that's a story for another day.

I was inclined to be generous due to the challenge of the last encounter, and the fact that Gabriel's awesome dwarver miner perished so unfortunately. I'm such a softie, sometimes, I swear. The PCs each got 5 XP for this session. Everyone but James leveled as a result.

Adam Said: The party at first level so far: Gabriel's minstrel has become a Wizard and Wayne's stable of characters now includes a Thief and a Warrior. 

We still don't know what Bear's characters are.

I said: 

A metric fuckton of sea dragon scale armor pieces. I'll leave it up to Adam to decide how that plays out (AC, cost of making armor out of it, how much of it you can haul away, etc.). For game purposes, it can be worn by elves, as it's not ferrous.

There's also the possibility that some of this stuff will attract all of the wrong kind of attention (evil wizards and thieves who think such low-level pukes need to be relieved of the treasure).

HOUSERULE ALERT: After totaling the treasure, deduct 25% for living expenses, carousing, poor dealing, and other costs of doing business. You need downtime, food, lodging, wenches (or farm boys, whatever you're into), and copious amounts of grog. Probably some of it gets gambled away. 


Optional: Make a DC10 Luck Roll to add 2d30 % back to the total.

Yesterday's Post: An Addendum

Matt Pike of High on Fire really gets this part of my aesthetic, though I'd say that my aesthetic has a lot of other, different (and moving) parts not captured by this.

And, seriously, wouldn't this guy make a great NPC?

Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad: Not Session 3 Recap

Last night marked the end of the end of my first story arc for The Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad campaign. I think it was largely a success, and Crypt of the Lizard King, the adventure I wrote as the introduction to our campaign world. I will blog about that later. I already tried, but this is what came out. The creative process is a very strange thing sometimes. Recap later. This now.

Our fantasy world for the Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad campaign world itself is loosely based on the Wilderlands of High Fantasy world, but many of the resemblances are superficial at best, thin skin on a monster of our own making. The names are sometimes the same, but the intent and flavor are quite different. My goal: Make this world the one I should have been playing in back in the day. For me, the Appendix N for us includes music and album covers. This makes a big difference.

As I've mentioned, this adventure, The Crypt of the Lizard King, is based on Doors song titles. It's about the precedents for the campaign world, and, to some extent, a hat tip in the direction of the musical inspirations for the campaign world. Jim Morrison was a strange cat, but incredibly, wickedly talented and charismatic. I've watched the video of when he more or less tried to cause a riot and got arrested. Absolutely amazing that he would even do that, but you get the feeling that he could have succeeded if not for the intervention.

This is a story about youth, music, power, and rebellion. This is also the story behind the campaign. It's about the rise of humans, and their escape from the domination of their Elven overlords. Musically, this is about how power and music can be linked, whether we're talking about this video of the Old Ones, or this one, which I'd associate with the Metal Gods:

Centuries pass, dust in the wind
I shall remain, shining in sin
The metal I am, the iron you feel
The song of the dead, the chorus of steel

I, I am the blade, I break the oath that you made
I, I am the mace, I am the blow in the face
I, I am the axe, to cut down heroes like rats
I, I am the sword, I do the work of the Lord

For me, "metal" as such, is not my favorite music, but some of my favorite bands are metal bands. Does that make sense. "Metal" is a metaphor in the campaign for the ability to forge and to make with metal the weapons by which one can rebel against uncaring authority and base subjugation. This is why the Dwarves and Men are simpatico. They can Make Things, and do so with Technology. The Elves rely instead on magic. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it is a different thing, and helps to differentiate the races both mechanically and, more importantly perhaps, aesthetically. In short, my core aesthetic is about power chords and blazing guitar solos, brutal, pounding drums, and way too much passion for life.

As music, metal does a much better job in capturing the fantasy worlds we all play in. Well, most of them, probably. Frankly, though, I'm an old punk, not a metalhead. I love me some metal, but a lot of it's just too damned slow for me. I'm finding that it's a lot better to listen to when I'm out running, though. The hardcore punk ethos is in there somewhere, the nihilism (to whatever extent), the rejection of values, the casting off of authority and damned be the consequences.

This is a campaign based in the relationships I have with all of this music. It got me through my teens and twenties, and now it's getting me through my forties. Sure I'm an old fucker. That doesn't mean I'm still not that same fucked up kid who got kicked out of his house, got drunk, got fired, almost got homeless, and then ran away to join the Marine Corps. He's in there. He never leaves.

But it's not about me. I'm just telling the story of the cycle of life and death, of rise and fall and rise again. This part of the story is about the rise of man, and the Metal Gods who made it possible.

The music sustains us. It is life. It is story. It is reason for living. It helps me tell the tale. In drums, guitars, and bass, riding the edge of barely controlled chaos, in the pit with all of the others, sweating and straining, bashed and bruised, I found myself there. I moved on without leaving, and there was always more. New sounds, new gods, but the strings of my heart are always metal, the ringing in my ears is always loud. The wheel keeps turning, and I'm born again from the soil of my beginnings, bent as I was wrought. Echoes of the past are still ringing in my ears, come 'round again after all these years. They're all a part of the same story. Just listen.

The creative process is a very strange thing.