The Damager

Just discovered this on Chaotic Shiny – a cool little program that generates descriptions of damage taken in games. You simply type in the damage dice and the general type of weapon (slashing, piercing or bludgeoning) and the applicable pronoun, and it does the rest. A sample …

Mace 1d6, bludgeoning damage
– You slam its upper leg. (1 damage)
– You ruin its ankle with an elaborate move. (6 damage)
– You slam its neck. (3 damage)
– You bash its upper arm. (3 damage)
– You bash its body. (2 damage)

Lance 1d8, piercing damage
– You jab her body. (4 damage)
– You gore her torso with a fountain of blood. (6 damage)
– You pierce her shoulder. (2 damage)
– You gore her upper arm with an acrobatic move. (6 damage)
– You strike her forearm in a move that will surely leave a scar and a deadly blow. (8 damage)

Pole Arm 1d10, slashing damage
– You chop his shoulder (5 damage)
– You chop his lower leg (6 damage)
– You gash his foot with astonishing force and a jet of blood (9 damage)
– You gash his forearm with gouts of blood (9 damage)
– You chop his forearm (5 damage)

And I defy you to beat the price!

Eulion, the Wandering City

I made mention in my “On the Drawing Board” in the sidebar that I’m working on making a free, completely open content (probably one of the creative commons licenses) fantasy city. I plan on keeping it either system neutral, or throwing in multiple sets of stats (thus – the wandering city, as it can wander from one setting to another – at least theoretically). The idea came about when I was playing with some of the random generators at Chaotic Shiny. Anyhow, I hope to have it include a brief description of the place, a map, descriptions of the inhabitants and a low-level “dungeon” linking a ruined monastery and a large graveyard – making the product useful for starting a new campaign. Naturally, Eulion is on the back burner while I work on PARS FORTUNA and NOD, so it probably won’t show up until late 2010 or 2011. Anyhow – a preview of the rough draft for the map is below …

Eulion

Thoughts on Henchmen

I was reading Al Nofi’s CIC on StrategyPage today, and saw this …

“When the Duke of Alba set out from northern Italy for the Netherlands in 1573, his army consisted of about 9,600 troops and nearly 7,000 camp followers.”

Could be interesting if every henchmen you wanted to bring on an adventure had 0-2 followers with him – wife, kids, whatever – or perhaps the requirements for strongholds (1 armorer for X troops) were carried over to expeditions as well. In truth, the added annoyance would probably guarantee my players would never use henchmen (or henchman – 10,000 gp in their pockets, and the most they would ever hire was one guy, with a few hit points, who always managed to die within an hour of leaving town … Gygax help me, I tried).

Quick Idea on Weapons

Thinking about the “all weapons do 1d6 damage” rules, I thought it might be useful to come up with some other reasons why one might choose one weapon over another and came up with the following. You’ll notice that I didn’t differentiate between long swords and short swords. It seems to me if all weapons are going to do the same damage, you only need to differentiate between forms rather than small differences between weapons with the same basic form.

And just for fun, consider it Open Game Content.

Axe/Curved sword/Pick/War hammer: +1 to damage due to all of the wielder’s force being concentrated on a small cutting edge or piercing point

Bow: -1 to hit (difficult to learn) but attacks twice during a round (on normal initiative and at end), +1 to damage due to all of the wielder’s force being concentrated on a small cutting edge or piercing point

Club/Staff: Nothing special

Crossbow: +1 to damage due to all of the wielder’s force being concentrated on a small cutting edge or piercing point

Dagger: Always lose initiative against longer weapons, but +1 to hit due to the greater versatility that comes with multiple angles of attack

Flail: Ignores shield bonus to AC, +1 to disarm attacks because of the chain

Javelin/Throwing spear: Nothing special

Mace: Nothing special

Sling: Nothing special

Spear/Lance: Always win initiative against shorter weapons

Sword: +1 to hit due to the greater versatility that comes with multiple angles of attack

Two-handed axe/Pole arm: +2 to damage due to all of the wielder’s force being concentrated on a small cutting edge and the heft of the weapon

Two-handed sword: +1 to hit due to the greater versatility that comes with multiple angles of attack, +1 to damage due to the weapon’s heft
__________

Metal weapons (other than dagger) require a strength score of 9 or higher to wield properly, otherwise -1 penalty to hit.

Two-handed weapons (including bows and crossbows) require a strength score of 13 or higher to wield properly, otherwise -2 penalty to hit.

A Few Random Thoughts

A few random ideas hit me today and I thought I’d put them down on pixel before I forgot.

Thieves
I think the subject of thieves in the OSR may soon surpass alignment in the amount of words written. Personally, I just used a thief class that made saving throws (modified by ability score bonuses/penalties) to perform his skills – kind of, save or fail to climb the wall idea. It was simple and worked for the group. Later, I got to thinking about a S&W thief class that gets a flat bonus to some of the existing “X in 6” skill checks in the game, i.e. finding secret doors, listening at doors, surprise, chance to notice a trap, etc. That gives you a thief that lives within the framework of the game, and is simply a bit better than the other PCs at the non-combat side of the equation. Then I thought that you could make each thief stand out by letting him specialize in one skill, say surprise, using the saving throw mechanic with that one skill. I was thinking in terms of the classic caper movies, where the boss assembles a team to rob a bank – you have the greatest safe cracker, greatest get-away car driver, etc. So, each thief would be generally good at slipping through a dungeon’s non-combat defenses, and would eventually become one of the best in the world at his specialized skill. Just a thought.

Big Monsters
Big monsters should create a nice, dramatic fight-to-the-finish in games, but they often fall flat. The problem, I think, might be that they’re surrounded, and with all attacks focused on the one monster, their life expectancy isn’t necessarily much more than every other beastie encountered on an adventure. One answer could be to let the monster cause random damage (1d6, 2d6) to everyone within 10 to 20 feet of it, every round. This would represent the problem of fighting a really massive monster that is thrashing around and generally causing collateral damage to everything nearby. Again, just a thought.

Last Thought
Al Nofi’s CIC on the Strategy Page is one of my favorite reads. In the latest edition I found this quote:

“During the fifteenth century it was common for German mercenary companies to have a special officer named the “Booty Master,” charged with assessing the value of and overseeing the division of loot.” – Al Nofi

So, the Old School adventure party can now add a “Booty Master” to the “Mapper” and “Caller”. I like it.

On Allegory

Your average fantasy rpg is set in a medieval world, which means knights and dragons and disease. Knights and dragons are easy enough to stat up, or I suppose they are since every game has them in one form or another. Disease, on the other hand, can present a few problems. If disease is going to play a roll in the game, it needs to be a real obstacle. If we’re being realistic, we know that many diseases, if contracted, must have the power to kill or really screw up a PC. That’s problem number one – explaining to a player why the character he has lovingly nursed through countless acts of daring to a lofty level is now dying from some pox he picked up when he was foolish enough to enter a town to buy supplies and train. It’s a real anti-climax and seems either terribly random or terribly unfair – a couple rolls of the dice, and microscopic entities that the locals haven’t even discovered have just accomplished what the Dark Lord and all his minions could not. Problem number two, of course, is that none of this will actually happen, because the chance that the afflicted cannot find a cleric to cast cure disease (or remove disease, depending on your edition) is slight. So, you go to the trouble of introducing the black plague, the disease that ravaged Europe and and maybe changed the course of human history, and the players see it as a mere inconvenience – slightly less annoying than death, but nothing that can’t be handled. To me, this just won’t do.

When designing my campaign, I wanted disease to be represented and I wanted it to be a problem. I looked at many different disease systems, from Arneson’s in Supplement II to Gygax’s in the old DMG and the ability score damage in 3rd edition, and none of them solved the aforementioned problems for me. And then, I started thinking allegorically.

I don’t run a historically realistic campaign. Nod is a world of folklore, fairy tales, mythology and superstition. The medieval mind did not see disease for what it was. Rather, it imagined that disease was a punishment from God. The Black Plague was God’s judgment on mankind. It was one of the most morally, spiritually and psychologically damaging event in European history, right up there with the First World War and its trench warfare and chemical weapons (which were a major inspiration for Tolkien’s Mordor.) This “psychic damage” is quite apparent in Peter Brueghel’s Triumph of Death (a detail of which can be seen above). And that painting got me thinking. A disease is terrible on a personal scale because it scars, weakens and kills. But disease is terrible on a grand scale because it infects and spreads. What monsters in the game we all love infect and spread? The undead, of course – or at least some undead. That’s when I decided to embrace the medieval and ancient allegories (symbols) that fantasy role-playing turns into creatures and makes real with stats. So, those disease rules that I could never quite get right were out, and plagues of undead took their place. The Black Death in Nod would not be an outbreak of bubonic plague transmitted by fleas and rats, but rather a terrible judgment from Heaven by which the dead rose from their graves and spread devastation and madness throughout the land. This was something that players could deal with – opponents to be overcome and mysteries to be solved (why are the gods angry? how can we placate them?) – with their skill at the game rather than a couple arbitrary dice rolls. Of course, mummy rot and lycanthropy were still in – you can’t have a proper campaign without mummy rot and lycanthropy. But otherwise, the undead, especially those who can spawn with a touch of their spectral hands, would take the place of disease in my campaigns.