Elves and Iron, Updated and Complete

This is a "finished" version of a post I made a long time ago. It proposes a radical rethinking of the Elf class for DCC RPG. It was originally intended for Metal God of Ur-Hadad zien, but that never happened. It may someday see the light of day as part of a Goodman Games product, but not sure.

Of Elves and Iron

Iron Rules for DCC RPG

Iron is inescapable. Iron is poison. Iron kills.

The presence of iron, unknown in Elfland (the human name for the transdimensional realm where the elves live), was the downfall of the Imperial elves of Ore. Iron changed and corrupted elven magic, driving elves with particularly weak constitutions mad from exposure, causing low birth rates and terminal birth defects, and occasionally producing horrifying mutations among their children. The Dungeon Crawl Classics version of elves makes clear that they aren't Tolkien elves, but more like the Fae, including an aversion to iron:

Elves are extremely sensitive to the touch of iron. Direct contact over prolonged periods causes a burning sensation, and exposure at close distances makes them uncomfortable. An elf may not wear iron armor or bear the touch of iron weapons for extended periods. Prolonged contact with iron causes 1 hp of damage per day of direct contact. (DCC Core Rules, p. 57)

In my mind, this is a bit too forgiving. Iron is inconvenient to elves, but not actively dangerous. If we follow the rules-as written, iron is a bit like poison ivy: It's nasty stuff, and it can cause a person some discomfort, but it's really not that bad. Mechanically, the in-game effects are about nil, unless you do the equivalent of stuffing your pants with iron nails (or poison ivy for that matter). It's not likely that an elf is going to put herself into a position where iron contact is constant. Moreso, Judges will tend to forget or just ignore iron's effects on elven characters. Ignoring the Iron Rule is not only against the rules-as-written, it's also forgoing an opportunity for some great character development and role-playing. So, I begin with a question: What if iron poisoning was a real danger for elves, akin to heavy metal poisoning for humans?

Heavy metal poisoning is no joke. Symptoms include headaches, weakness, fatigue, muscle and joint pain, and constipation. Information about more specific metals suggests we could add diseases of the organs, brittle bones, and permanent nervous system damage (with physical and mental effects). Medical science also differentiates between "acute" and "chronic" effects. In what follows, I will try to add some teeth to the effects of iron on elven characters, and explores some of the ways iron-sensitivity has had, and continues to have, significant effects on elven lives and culture.

Iron Exposure: Acute and Chronic Effects

"Acute" iron exposure results from injury, usually by getting various pieces of brutal cutlery shoved into one's body—a sudden, massive increase in the level of iron exposure. "Chronic" iron exposure occurs over time, affecting the mind and body in painful, dangerous, and frightening ways.

•         Acute Effect: An "acute" iron effect check is triggered when an elven character is reduced to 0 hit points, and either gets healed or has a successful Recover the Body check. Roll on the following table, in addition to the "bleeding out" and "recovering the body" effects described in the DCC RPG core rules (see p. 93).
• 
  
•         Chronic Effect: Each time an elf gains a level, make a Fortitude Save (DC 10+new level). If failed, roll d12 on the table (plus Stamina modifier). Should the elf have the wherewithal to afford an iron-protective encounter suit (see below), he or she should reduce the DC by 1 per 2,000 g.p. spent on the encounter suit (rounded down, maximum of 10).

d12+STA mod	Type	Effect
less than 0	Acute	The Sickening: Lose 1d4 points of Stamina, permanently. If 0 or less, death occurs.
	Chronic	Nemesis: The character has gone irrevocably mad from iron poisoning. Play as NPC with hatred for former comrades.
0	Acute	Fisher King's Lament: Acquire a wound that will not heal normally, and which requires a 4 dice result of a Lay on Hands check to heal through divine means. Lose 1d6 hp per day until healed.
	Chronic	Rust Rot: Skin turns the color of rust, and flakes off constantly. Lose 1d4 points of Personality, permanently.
1	Acute	Vampirism: As result of damage major organs are mutated. Character must ingest the blood of intelligent creatures of the living, red-blooded races (e.g., humans, halflings, dwarves) in addition to normal food. Failure to do so at least once per week results in roll for chronic effect.
	Chronic	Ghoulish: Arms lengthen by 2d10 inches and grow iron claws (1d3 damage).
2	Acute	Something Human: You are no longer immune to magical sleep and paralysis. Each time one of these spells could affect you, make a Will Save as normal human.
	Chronic	Twisted Freak: Body becomes contorted over the course of two weeks (Strength and Agility -1d3).
3	Acute	Blood in Your Eyes: Eyes turn the color of blood. You no longer have infravision.
	Chronic	Orked Out: Gain 1d3 Strength and lose 1d3 Personality, permanently.
4	Acute	Dulled Senses: Normal ability to detect secret doors reduced by 1d4, permanently.
	Chronic	Hot blooded: You now bleed red instead of "normal" blue-green. When you take damage, make a Will Save (DC 15) or go berserk for 1d6 rounds. During this time, you will have AC -2, to-hit and damage +2. You will always attack the nearest "foe" even if that person is not your enemy.
5	Acute	Human Frailty: Hit dice reduced from 1d6 to 1d4 when gaining next level.
	Chronic	Blood Magic: Choose a spell at random. Spell checks for that spell made with next higher die type (e.g., d24 instead of d20), but must Spellburn 1d3 points to cast. If caster does not Spellburn, the spell is cast using next lower die type (e.g., d16 instead of d20).
6	Acute	Freaked Out: The character is delirious from the effects of iron poisoning. Spell checks and Will Saves are rolled at -1d6 for 1d3 days.
	Chronic	Wild Mercurial: Choose a spell at random. Each time you cast that spell, roll 1 additional Mercurial Magic result, which occurs in addition to any other Mercurial effect(s). This effect is permanent.
7	Acute	A Little Itchy: Develop a persistent rash at the site of the wound. -1 to Initiative rolls for 1d3 days, due to incessant itching.
	Chronic	Arcane Chaos: Choose a spell at random and roll 1d4-2. If the number is positive/negative the spell now must be cast using a die up/down that many steps in the dice chain, permanently. If 0, then no effect. However, that spell also requires 1 point of Spellburn to cast.
8+	Acute	Iron Burn: Lose 1d3 points of Stamina. Any points in addition to the permanent 1 point loss required by DCC RPG rules are temporary (like Spellburn) and will be recovered at a rate of 1 per day.
	Chronic	Holding Pattern: No chronic effect.

Since coming to Ore, elves have sought to escape the effects of its poisonous, iron-rich environment, to find new ways to avoid the poison that saps their vitality, warps their magic, and corrodes their very souls. Unfortunately, their adaptations involve extremely expensive technologies, and not all elves are able to make use of them.

Elven Encounter Suits

Encounter suits are the product of millennia of elvish medical experimentation ( none of it particularly ethical and some of it quite horrific). Each suit provides a body-covering "suit" (a tough sheath of cloth, sometimes enhanced with mithril thread), a face concealing helmet with integrated breathing apparatus, and gloves/boots to cover the hands and feet. The suits provide an enclosed, protective environment, free from the corrosive effects of iron poisoning, and must be worn at all times to provide their benefits.

Encounter suits are expensive, both to purchase and to maintain, and elves think of them much in the same way that modern humans regard things like automobiles: They are at the same time utilitarian objects, expressions of personal aesthetics, and markers of social status and/or financial wherewithal. Only the wealthiest of elves can even afford encounter suits, as they are expensive both to acquire (at least 5,000 gp) and to maintain (1% of purchase price per month). Also, should the suit be damaged, a hasty repair can keep it in working order for a short time, but any real repair costs up to 10% of the suit's value. They also, of course, are markers of particular elves' identities and status. The sheathing suit, gloves, and boots provide visual cues that other elves can use to determine things like clan identity, personal triumphs and accomplishments, professional affiliations, and so forth.

Encounter Suit Garments (including gloves/boots)

Quality	AC	Cost (gp)
Lowest Quality	11-13	2000+
Midrange	14-15	7500+
High Quality	16-17	15000+
Noble/Scion	18	25000+

Encounter suit helmets are as individual as the faces they conceal, and the most important marker of a wealthy elf's social identity, the face he or she presents to the world. For such reasons, even lower quality suits are well made of high-end encounter suits are crafted using a range of rare and valuable materials to highlight the owner's exquisite taste and cultural refinement, and there's much emphasis placed, among elves, on matters of encounter suit aesthetics that are, to the other races, incomprehensibly abstruse. The elven nobility are particularly given to using their helmets to mark particulars of rank and status, and each noble family has a distinctive style unique to itself. Anyone else pretending to that style who is not a member of that family invites a duel (at best) or even a feud.

Encounter Suit Helmet

Quality		Cost
Lowest Quality		3000+
Midrange		10000+
High Quality		20000+
Noble/Scion		50000+

There is great variation in the range of quality of encounter suits, including their physical protective qualities, their ability to shield their users from harmful iron, and the money that elves might spend on their customization. It is up to judges to determine if and how they might allow players to customize their encounter suits. However, no encounter suit may reduce the saving throw DC for Chronic effects by more than 10 points.

Iron's Effects on Elven Culture

The effects of iron are ever on most elves' minds, and fear of it is pervasive. Though not all elves are able to do anything to help themselves—They simply can't afford the cost—there still are a whole host of cultural practices, from mere quackery to science, risen around the problem. Here are a few of them for judges to think about:

•          Elves are vigilant toward potential vectors of iron infection. They find ways to seal themselves and their homes off from those vectors. (Adventure Idea: Provide positive modifier to Chronic Effect roll for players of elf PCs who role-play this vigilance well.)
•          There is an area of arcane study concerned with iron exposure and its effects on spell casting. Iron makes magic work differently. Corruption will tend to be exacerbated by iron infection, or it might manifest as symptoms thereof. (Adventure Idea: Magical artifacts may be created to stabilize spell effects may uncertain by iron.)
•          Elves study healing/medicine concerned with iron exposure and its effects on elven biology. This area of study is guarded from outsiders, and elves have been known to assassinate any non-Elf who tries to pry into these mysteries. (Adventure Idea: There may be cults who engage in horrible experiments, attempting to "fix" elven biology.)
•          There is a thriving industry in quackery, "holistic" approaches to healing from iron exposure, and other pseudo-medical and faith-based scams. Because iron is so dangerous, and infection so inevitable, some elves will believe nearly anything in order to cope with their fears, even if the cures offered are ineffective or even worse than iron infection itself. (Adventure Idea: Charismatic cults dedicated to healing iron poisoning have arisen among low-class elves, though their practices have little or no real effect.)
•          Elven artisans craft devices to limit their exposure to iron (e.g., filter masks, special garments, etc.). This tends to make them look even more otherworldly, and sets them apart from the other races even further. Given the history of the elves on Ore, this means that they are even further excluded from the society of other races. Encounter suits are only one such technology, and the only one that works reliably. Elves who can't afford them might attempt other means of self-protection (Adventure Idea: PCs or NPCs could work to recover and develop lost technologies.)
•          Evan non-elves know that iron-infected elves are potentially dangerous. The more powerful the Elf, the more likely he or she is to be a problem. As a result, there is strong anti-Elf sentiment in some quarters, and even some political impetus to exclude elves from human society entirely. (Adventure Idea: Some NPCs/NPC Factions may display prejudice toward elven PCs.)
•          Elves sometimes return to Elfland in order to seek respite from the effects of iron infection, and to attempt healing of some sort. Some never return. (Adventure Idea: Make this a Quest, with associated effects based on level of success.)

Clearly iron is important to the elves, but their attempts (even failed ones) to deal with its effects is not simply a matter for each individual to handle. Whole ways of life and industries have arisen to cope with the sad reality faced by the elves of Ore. Within elven society, though, there are other, potentially dangerous things brewing, because not every elf can be protected from it. Wealth and nobility are keys to accessing the protection needed to stave off iron infection. As with the other races, though, not everyone shares equally the things from which all could benefit.

The Spires of the Elven Lords

The wealthiest elves live in great spires, sealed off from the dangers of the outside world.

Though Man conquered the elves in His rebellion, lo these many years ago, the elves never surrendered their Spires. They still stand, a testament to elven persistence in their quixotic fight against the inevitable.

The Spires were built in the earliest days to combat the iron threat. Though their arts are not now practiced (and are forbidden by decree), the ancient elves of the Imperium were masters of technomancy, and could create life through those forbidden processes (though it is rumored that some elven factions still follow this path). They "bred" homes, aether ships, fortresses, fell constructs bred for battle, and all manner of other things. These creatures were grown from strange seed and nurtured into the mature works of elven master artisans of this foul craft. Five elven Spires grew from such seeds, rising thousands of feet into the skies above Ur-Hadad.

The Spires look like bleached, blue-white bones, shining unsullied by time under the sun and moons of Ore. Their surfaces are near-impregnable, with few windows or portals, and these well guarded. They rise with celestial grace into the sky, their sharp points skewering the cloud layers, disappearing from sight, far, far above. They look just a little bit like thorny vines, engorged of stem and laden with fruits and buds, climbing toward eternity.

Each Spire has a name Anuch-Dar (the Collective Mind), Morgath-Ka'ak (the Bloody Hand), Morgath-Gur (the Sinister Hand), Morgath-Noriel (the Adroit Hand), and Anuch-Ur (the Singular Mind). No one is quite sure what these names mean, and the elves aren't inclined to answer questions about them. In fact, the Spires are not spoken of in the hearing of non-elves, and even those elves who walk among Men refuse any attempt to discuss them, going so far as to fight duels to avoid doing so.

No non-elven person has ever entered a Spire. In fact, not every elf has done so. They are sealed off to most, and guarded jealously against unauthorized entry. Cloistered within are the elite of elven society, whose faces are concealed by bizarre breathing masks and protective raiment, and whose voices emerge, strange and discordant, from the places where their mouths must be. No living human has ever seen the faces of the elven nobility. As a result, we have little to go on but rumors. Here are a few:

•         The elves are preparing to reconquer Ore.
•          The elves are using their arcane knowledge to build a bridge to the moons.
•          The elven women are the true rulers, and use the Spires to keep their breeding stock of pure-blooded males in harem.
•          The Spires descend miles into the depths of Ore, and are just the tips of a far vaster structure that spans the entire world.
•          The Spires are great aether-ships, and could leave the surface of Ore to sail among the moons and stars.
•          The creatures living in the Spires are not elves at all, but demons, and wear their concealing raiment to hide their true natures.
•          The elves are attempting to cross-breed with Men, and the Spires are full of vast slave pens, technomantic laboratories, and mad elves bent on fiendish experiments and lusting after human women.
•          The Spires are great libraries of lost knowledge, jealously guarded by powerful elven nobles.
•          The Spires are portals to other planes, where the elves still rule a great empire of cruelty and despair.
•          There are lost Spires out in the wilds and under the seas of Ore.

None of these rumors has been substantiated, but neither have they been disproved. And there are many more than these, each wilder than the last, each speaking to the greatest hopes and deepest fears of the Men of Ore, and underlining the cultural rift between the two races.

Men gaze suspiciously upon the Spires, pondering their threat and their promise. Elves, too, live outside the Spires. They are not the elite of elven society. They do not share in its bounty. Most cannot afford the protections either of Spire or of encounter suit. Their misery grows, generation by generation, as they are warped and corroded by iron infection, and fewer and fewer healthy offspring are born. They, too, gaze at the Spires. Their hatred springs like thornwood from blackened ground, growing from sentiment, to philosophy, to vocation. It surely will bear poisoned fruit.

A terror cult has arisen among the common classes of elves: It is known as Morgath'ak-Lugash (The Iron Fist). The members of this notorious sect hunt, torture, and (usually) kill the wealthiest among the elves, using iron weapons and instruments. Their first acknowledged victim was crucified with iron nails, an iron spear drive into his side, and a wreath of barbed wire wrapped around his brow. No one has been able to determine its terror cult's membership, what resources they might have, or where they might lair.

In the end, as every elf knows, there is only metal. Ore's iron core spins malignantly beneath its crust, and its arteries pump iron-rich magma. Iron dust blows across its lands, and the other races bear weapons and raiment of iron, as if making mock of the elves great plight. From iron there is no escape, no surcease, but only the long, bitter struggle against the inevitable. There is death, or there is madness, or there is the choice to "sail into the West," a cryptic reference that no elf has ever explained to outsiders.

Using Mighty Deeds to Bring Flava to tha Fighta

One of the greatest contributions the Dungeon Crawl Classics RPG makes to d20 game mechanics, is the "Mighty Deed of Arms" for warriors and dwarves. Like the "feat" in later editions of D&D, the Deed is a specialized maneuver resulting in better, flashier combat outcomes. It allows for things not explicated in the rules, but also provides a set of principles--general themes that can be applied flexibly to given circumstances--whereby one can engineer this particular subsystem to generate "feat-like" outcomes. Consider the following passages from the rulebook (pp. 88-92) to be the principles of which I speak:

• The higher the deed die, the more successful the Deed.
• A warrior’s Deeds should fit the situation at hand and reflect the might and daring of a great fighter.
• A warrior may even devise a “signature move” that he frequently attempts based on his particular proclivities.  [even one involving a specific weapon ~EDJ]
• Creative players will certainly come up with new Deeds. Encourage and allow this.

The example deeds in that section of the rulebook are types of attacks and effects (e.g., blinding, pushback, etc.), and provide a sense of how to scale outcomes based on the Deed Die roll. What it doesn't go into as explicitly, is how the Deed can be used to differentiate character from class--i.e., to make each character more than just another stereotypical example of his or her class. Sure, there's still room for the fighter to be the main battle tank of the party, but Deeds can be matched not only to fit a particular combat situation or need, but also to tell us who your character is, and how he or she takes care of business.

An Example

Suppose you wanted to create a warrior, but also wanted to avoid the increased fumble dice associated with heavier armor. If you handle that character like the standard "tank" fighter--heaviest armor available, plus shield--going toe-to-toe with every creeping horror and boss monster out there, you'll be slaughtered. Fun for your GM, but not so fun for you. So what can you do?

First, think a little bit about great fighters you've seen, the fighters who don't wear mail but still kick ass. Like this guy:

Errol Flynn being awesome in high boots and a leather vest,
with not a scrap of plate mail (nor a shield) in sight.

I can think of a couple of Deeds for the prototypical swashbuckler type. The first of these is defensive. Let's call it "Baffle Them with Bullshit." One reason swashbuckling swordspersons are so cool, is that they both outfight and outfox their opponents. A good one cash go up against the burliest of foes and slice that foe to ribbons, whilst taking nary a scratch in the process. Baffle Them with Bullshit is the reason they don't get killed. With slashing, slicing, silver streaks of sword-swinging, the swashbuckler weaves a wall of protection, adding to his or her AC on a successful Deed, but not otherwise affecting the strike. The warrior can still hit, but the way he or she does so--with lightning-fast arrays of feints, counters, and strikes, makes it more difficult to the opponent to hit the warrior. The better the result, the more the protection.

The "Defensive Maneuvers" entry in the rulebook's Mighty Deeds of Arms section is pretty generic, dealing with providing active defense for the party--Shield walls, back-to-back fighting. That's one way to go, but preserves a fairly archetypal "fighter" role for the PC. Using the deed in ways that moves you away from the typical hack-n-slash fighter (or hand-n-bash, for dwarves), also helps to to move you in the direction of another version of the warrior archetype. In this case, the Deed provides access to a different kind of fighting style, and subsequent choices about armor, for example, that support that style. You can't very well go leaping about in plate mail (at least not without risking a dire Reflex save), in the same way that you can in thigh-high boots and a leather jerkin (Whew! Did it just get hot in here?). If you're going to go up against heavily armored foes, then you'll need to have a fighting style to reflect how you go about your business: nimble defense, piercing thrusts, leaping, swinging from ropes, etc., all of which could go into your repertoire of Mighty Deeds.

Or how about this guy:

Errol Flynn being awesome while wearing hose of Lincoln Green.

So, you say your warrior has an 8 Strength due to that whole "necrotic drain from a chaotic wizard" thing? No worries. You still got  that Agility bonus. It's not much, but it makes shooting a bow much more attractive than swinging an axe. In this case, deeds will be focused on things like precision shots, trick shots, enhanced rate of fire, and the like, and even get you thinking about things like fire arrows (or poison, for the chaotic among you with a disregard of the dangers of poison-handling). Again, the flavor of the fighter shifts from armored tank to something else entirely, something more like the "ranger" archetype.

The main thing I wish to emphasize, here, is that Mighty Deeds are not simply something you do in combat. They are used for that, certainly, but they also help you think about who your warrior is, and how he or she does the biz. As soon as you get done with that zero-level funnel, and you look at the possibilities, that 7 Strength might make veer wildly from making a warrior character. It shouldn't. Are you more agile? Then use your Agility to drive your deeds? Are you a high Personality character, but the very thought of playing a cleric gives you hives? Fine. What if one of your Deeds involved taunting your opponents, enraging them and making them sloppy, and allowing you to take advantage of, say, lowered armor class, an enhanced fumble die, or something of that ilk?

Using the Mighty Deed of Arms, all of this (and more) is possible. You needn't be limited by prime requisites, by armor and arms choices, or by other limitations we tend to ascribe to the warrior-as-fighter. Sure, you're still a fighter, but specialized Deeds can make you a smarter, more interesting version of that archetype, and you needn't be the strongest guy in the tavern to do so.

Obviously, you and your judge will need to make good decisions about how this will work. The best place to do so is in the 0-level to 1st level transition period of character generation, when PC classes are chosen. With the right idea, and the right set of Deeds, your warrior may not be the biggest, baddest, hard-ass around, but he or she can still be mighty, indeed. (Damn, that one never gets old.)

Effects of Overland Travel in DCC RPG

A recent Google+ post Peter Leban, in reference to THIS BLOG POST, got me thinking about a subsystem for DCC.

In my experience, it's pretty rare for judges to really keep track of things like provisions, water, and the like. It's even rarer for them to concern themselves with the longterm effects of travel in the game world. But what if we wanted to do that, to introduce environment as an opponent, an enemy just as dangerous as a monster the PCs might face?

Think about it. 

The PCs are riding (or marching), at speed, for days. They've barely rested. (exhaustion)

The PCs are lost at sea, becalmed, and their water is foul. (deprivation)

The PCs are fleeing (or chasing) through a hostile environment (desert, snow, whatever). Though they have supplies, they need to be rationed for the long haul, and the endless marching is wearing them down. (deprivation and exhaustion)

In each of these cases, the PCs are trying to achieve a goal of some kind, and their ability to endure their circumstances is being tested. Certainly such a test should have some effects on the PCs, right? I mean, if you spend three days on a forced march, with little food and no rest, you're probably not going to be in very good shape to fight when you reach your destination. How do you model that, mechanically?

One option would be to model this on the Spellburn mechanic in DCC RPG. Reflect the cost of journeying (or whatever durance and/or deprivation) astemporary attribute loss (to Strength, Stamina, and/or Agility). When any of these goes below a threshold (say, 3), then the PC is unconscious. You could also tack on actual damage to HP if that happens, or permanent stat loss, or even death, if the circumstances suggest it. 

For example, the PC is fleeing through the desert, pursued by X. He has no water or food, and cannot stop to rest. Maybe for each of those factors, for each period of travel (whatever that might be, perhaps half a day), he loses 1d4 or 1d6 attribute points from each attribute (with saving throw, modified by current attribute, for half loss). At some point, it might pay to turn and fight X, instead of fleeing. If the PC continues to flee, he may become exhausted (reduced STA), weakened (reduced STR), and/or lack of mobility (reduced AGI).

Further, the PCs might find that their ability to fight or cast spells is reduced (via lost attributes), leaving them even less able to deal with whatever it is that they must face.

If we assume that some environments (more extreme ones) are more challenging than others (milder ones), perhaps we could use steps on the dice chain to represent the relative advantage/disadvantage conferred by environment. If the PCs have supplies and equipment that allow them to mitigate the environmental factors, then that also could be represented on the the dice chain.

First, let's make an assumption. Each half day of normal traveling costs 1d3 attribute points in Strength, Agility, and Stamina, with any extras taken from Stamina. This is the base die in the chain. 

Then, we consider aggravating and/or ameliorating factors. They have no food (+1 on dice chain), they have no water (+1 on dice chain), but they have beasts of burden to carry some of the their load (-1 on dice chain). I'm keeping this to a simple +1/-1 just for the sake of simplicity. I'm sure there could be other numbers. These just keep it simple to use and remember.

Factors that aggravate or ameliorate circumstances of travel could be environmental (weather and climate, geography), circumstantial (supplied for environment, or not; encumbered, or not; wounded, or not), and so forth.

The idea, in the end, is to encourage the PCs to think about resources and capabilities, and to make choices that reflect the actual circumstances. How the hell, for example, could a group of PCs march three days through the desert, in mail, carrying 30,000 gp, without water or rations, and then arrive at a crucial battle, ready to fight? That's silly. They'd be exhausted, at best. Hell, they might be dead in the desert, food for the vultures and jackals.

Does this seem like a reasonable system to model such circumstances?