random forest monsters

June 17th, 2013

In the D&D game we’re running in the sidebar, we just spent two real-time months running around the Elven Forests. Early on, I realized I needed random monster tables for forest encounters. The ones I’m most familiar with (the OD&D table and the various Challenge Rating-based 3rd edition tables) didn’t appeal to me: not enough variety, and not enough bizarre encounters. Here’s the one I wrote for myself. It’s responsible for all the woodland battles in our D&D game: the moon girls, the white stag hunt, the green dragon. New monsters are marked with an *asterisk. For these new monsters, I started with just their names, and detailed them only when I required them.

Elven Forest Encounter Table
1 Unique monster (You must invent it on the spot, or pull it out of some sourcebook the players have never seen. The PCs will never meet another one of its kind.)
2 elf (Remember, not all elves are friendly. You know, it would be nice if drow weren’t color coded.)
3 fairy (any of dozens of small fey that all want to mess with you)
4 animal (wolf, boar, bear, panther, snake, spider, etc)
5 manimal (centaur, satyr, werewolf, werebear, etc)
6 snooty white steed (white stag, unicorn, pegasus, white elephant, paladin mount, etc)
7 redcap goblin (and its cursed treasure)
8 dangerous flora (*red bell ring, *cobra vine, *tree of death, *pearl plant, *fairy ring, assassin vine)
9 dire animal
10 invaders of the woodland (orc, human, *axehand ant, *the Blight)
11 defenders of the woodland (treant, druid, ranger, dryad, *bog mummy)
12 underworld entrance (pit trap, cave, or hollow tree leads to caverns or elf hill)
13 sinister lair (castle, cave, villa, tower, circus tent, tomb)
14 *sinister child
15 sinister tribe (troll, ogre, shadow, bugbear, owlbear, *screamer, *redface)
16 *green coat man
17 *moon girl
18 witch
19 green dragon
20 wild hunt

The party ran into several of my new monsters. Here are some details on a few:

Moon Girls: Packs of luminescent wild women who leap through the forest, fleet as deer. During the day they act like deer, and have basically the same stats (speed, HP, etc). At night, under the moon, they act like, and have the same stats as, wolves. In the darkness, because of their glowing pearly skin, you can see them coming.

Moon Girl’s glowing blood is prized by healers. Being treated with Moon Girl blood cures 1 HP of damage.

White Stag: This is a prominent monster in Pendragon, and it’s probably been statted up somewhere in D&D, but it’s not one of the standard D&D monsters. Here’s my take:

While it’s not aware of you, the White Stag has the same stats as a normal stag, but while it’s running it has +10 AC and +10 feet of speed. If it gets out of sight, you’ll have to make a tracking or Wisdom check to see where it went.

An old legend says that “if you aim at its heart, and let the beast go, that arrow will kill when it flies from your bow.” (To aim, make an attack and damage roll as if you had shot an arrow. If the attack would have killed the stag, your arrow gains the stag’s blessing. The arrow turns white. The next time you fire it, it automatically critically hits. One blessed arrow per customer.)

What if you shoot the stag instead of letting it go? That’s the dark path. You gain the same blessing on the arrow, but the arrow turns black.

RPGTable and GameTable Online Kickstarter!

June 13th, 2013

The company I used to work for, GameTable Online, launched a Kickstarter in May to fund new games and improvements to their site! Included in the reward levels are discounted premium subscriptions to GTO’s other website, RPGTable Online, which is an online virtual table for playing tabletop roleplaying games, such as Dungeons and Dragons. So if you’re looking for a good virtual table for RPGs or you just like playing online versions of fun board games, such as Axis & Allies, Battle Cry, Guillotine, Robo Rally, 1960: The Making of the President, and Tigris & Euphrates, it’s definitely worth checking out and a good way to support both sites.

See GameTable Online’s Kickstarter page HERE.

Their Kickstarter is ending Sunday. They’ve already met their initial goal for an online version of Tsuro of the Seas, itself a Kickstarter, and some initial improvements to their site. Their first stretch goal is to fund an online version Conquest of the Empire, which is a fun classic war game by the designer of Axis & Allies, Larry Harris. Personally, I prefer it to Axis & Allies, and I feel it has interesting mechanics, particularly with regards to balancing short-gains from mobilizing a strong army versus the long-term benefits of building roads and citadels to connect and defend your empire. In fact, one of the cooler add-on rewards GTO is offering is copies of Conquest of the Empire autographed by Larry Harris!

If you aren’t familiar with RPGTable.com, I’d definitely reccomend checking it out, as it’s a great tool for playing online tabletop rpgs. I’m a little biased because I helped design and test it while I worked at GTO :), but I do think it has a lot to offer:

  1. It’s free to play. All the core features, from a healthy set of tiles and tokens, to the dice roller, grid map, initiative tracker, built in voice, and all the other the tools for running a roleplaying game are totally free. As mentioned, there is a premium subscription for unlocking community sharing, cloud storage, and other useful features. There are also micropayments for unlocking additional content, such as new tokens and tiles. But from the start you get a lot of functionality without paying anything.
  2. It has a ton of D&D support (if that’s your bag). Specifically, it has a lot tools that are optimized for 4th edition, but it is quite well suited for running earlier editions of D&D and for Pathfinder as well. That isn’t to say you can’t use the more generic tools for any rpg, but it really shines when it comes to D&D. So it can allow you to track conditions, spend healing surges, tell you if your attack hits against an enemy’s AC, and deal automatic damage, along with a lot of other supported functionality to make your life easier when playing D&D.
  3. It’s easy. No big downloads. No uploading a bunch of mods or maps to get started. No hours of tutorials. Just register a free account at GameTable Online, log-on, and jump into a campaign. From there you can use a preloaded selection of tiles and tokens to build an adventure that your friends can jump into through the website as easily as you did.

 

 

when adventurers aren’t adventuring

June 13th, 2013

The more I read Mike Mearls’s latest column about downtime as a resource, the more I like it. (That’s not that surprising; I’ve suggested something similar in the past.)

Mike says that you will be able to spend weeks of downtime (and money) to do non-adventuring things. As examples, he offers:

  • Craft an item, such as a suit of plate armor or a sword
  • Take a job or practice a craft to earn money
  • Study or practice a craft to become better at it
  • Develop social connections and alliances
  • Build, create, and/or manage a castle, business, temple, or similar institution
  • Manage your followers
  • Raise an army

    This could provide a framework for a lot of things that have been left out of recent D&D editions. For instance, I’m excited about having official rules for castlebuilding.

    Time-as-a-resource is something that old editions actually did quite well. As Mike Mornard has reminded us, Gygax said that “you cannot have a meaningful campaign without timekeeping.” You spent specific amounts of time and money on tasks like research and building. Returning to a similar system does allow a Gygaxian sort of campaign where everyone has a stable of characters, and specific characters drop in and out of adventures depending on their time commitments. That’s very different from how I’ve ever played, but it could be interesting to try.

    As fun as that sounds, the thing that’s most intriguing about Mike’s suggestion is that it solves a couple of specific D&D problems I’ve had in my game.

    What is money for? In old editions, money is for getting XP, and for paying the exorbitant expenses the DM levels in order to motivate the PCs to further adventures. In newer editions, money is for buying magic items to increase combat effectiveness. None of these are quite satisfactory to me. I can imagine that, in this system, money is used to vote on what kind of adventures you want to have. Investments in castles or in spy networks or in mystical research are all ways that the player can drive the campaign towards a destination of their choosing.

    How do you balance combat vs noncombat abilities? I’ve often complained about the D&D feat system, which balances, say, learning a language vs. +1 to hit. I’d like noncombat/story resources to be drawn from a separate pool from combat abilities. I’m fine with feats and such as the combat pool, and I actually like time and money as the noncombat pool. The article doesn’t suggest this, but I’d like language-learning and similar skills to be part of the downtime system.

    What to do with all these pizza toppings? These rules could address one immediate problem of crucial importance. In our weekly Isle of Dread game, the players have gotten it into their head that they want to start a pizzeria. Every herb they discover and every monster they kill is turned into pizza toppings. They’ve clearly voted for the next installment of the quest to involve commercial enterprise. I’d love to have a rules framework on which to hang the next adventure.

  • random village names

    June 10th, 2013

    Here’s a random village-name generator. It’s tuned to generate English village-style names, with a touch of D&D. As with all generators, ignore or justify nonsensical results.

    metallic dragons are from the planes

    June 7th, 2013

    Here’s an essay from my Random Dungeons book, which you should buy! Lots of stuff there, by me and other authors, which doesn’t appear on anyone’s website.

    metallic dragons are from the planes

    Metallic dragons never seemed to me to occupy the D&D world as chromatic dragons did. While fighting evil dragons is a core D&D experience, interacting with friendly gold and silver dragons sometimes seems hokey.

    For one thing, a D&D world doesn’t have room for a lot of super-powerful good creatures. You might as well have a race of Elminsters running around, solving problems before the PCs can get to them. Even if they’re more Switzerland than global policemen, they still add areas of stability and safety that don’t have a place in every campaign world.

    Also, the metallic dragons, with their ability to disguise as humans, seem to be on a different level of reality than the straight-ahead evil lizard cousins. They remind me of the Golden Hart from the Blue Rose d20 system: more like magical guides from fairy tales or hero’s journeys than inhabitants of the natural world.

    I think that the metallic dragons have a place in D&D: and that place is the planes.

    Gold dragons belong in the realms of the gods: the Astral Sea or the good-aligned outer planes. These dragons, like their home planes, are almost too beautiful to view directly: the sight of half-a-dozen winging across the glowing astral clouds is one that will stay with viewers until the end of their days. Gods and their exarchs sometimes ride gold dragon allies into battle. A gold dragon in the natural world is, perhaps, on an errand, doing a favor for a god.

    Silver dragons are native to the moonlit glades of the Feywild. They’re among the most powerful and unpredictable natives of that powerful and unpredictable place. I like them as the most powerful dragons of their plane: it seems like a more interesting niche than “the second-most powerful good dragon”.

    The other three traditional metallic dragons are brass, bronze, and copper, which is a bizarre collection of metals. We have way too many indistinguishable copper alloys here. There are five metallic dragons to match the five evil dragons, but, to me, these three don’t seem to have distinct conceptual places. I’d get rid of brass and bronze, and just keep copper dragons.

    As gold dragons reflect the radiant light of the sun and silver dragons the moon, copper dragons suggest to me firelight. I actually think that copper dragons might belong in the natural world: they’re less powerful than many of the evil dragons, they’re described as gregarious, and in some editions they have stone-related powers. They might need to hide from the evil dragons to survive, and they split their time between hiding among humans in cities and skulking in vast torch-lit caverns under the mountains.

    Maybe every dungeon, or many of them, contains the hidden lair of a copper dragon. You’re not likely to find it without really thorough exploration and possibly a stroke of luck.

    Forgotten doo-dads

    June 3rd, 2013

    Here are some magic items that have no specific purpose. They’re ingredients that could be used by the DM as part of Rube Goldberg traps, or by the players in any number of DM-confounding plans.

    The Incredible Changing Brick

    This item appears as a colored stone cube, sized anywhere between a few inches to 15 feet across. It has five possible sizes. When it is exposed to fire (or any effect hot enough to do damage) it grows one size. When it is exposed to freezing temperatures (cold enough to do damage), it shrinks one size.

    If someone is struck by a cold or heat attack while carrying the brick, the brick is likely to change size. When the Changing Brick grows, it is strong enough to burst any container except well-constructed stone or thick metal. In a confined space, it will crush any creature who cannot escape or make a DC 21 Strength check.

    Size 1: The size of a half-brick, the Changing Brick is 6 inches long and 5 pounds.
    Size 2: 2 feet long and 50 pounds, about the size of a stone in a typical dungeon wall. If it’s in a full backpack or bag when it grows to size 2, it’s likely to burst the container.
    Size 3: 4 feet long and 400 pounds. It is difficult to drag, even by strong characters.
    Size 4: 8 feet long and too heavy to lift. It’s big enough to almost completely block a typical dungeon corridor.
    Size 5: 15 feet long.

    Example uses: A Brick at the base of a loose wall could cause an avalanche if struck by a careless fireball. A character armed with an at-will Cold spell and a torch could use the Changing Brick as a portable defensive wall or battering ram.

    Electrum Mirror

    The ancients used solar and light power to fuel many of their lost technologies. If you find a cache of ancient electrum coins, look around carefully for an electrum mirror guarding it. Electrum mirrors were versatile parts of many of the traps and devices in ancient dungeons.

    An electrum mirror is a smooth silver-gold sheet marked with a single rune. It’s frequently mounted, out of reach, on a dungeon wall or ceiling.

    Electrum mirrors can have a single wizard spell stored on them. They’re sensitive to light: when a certain light level is reached, their stored spell is triggered. Electrum mirrors can cast their stored spell once per day.

    Electrum mirrors can distinguish between firelight, sunlight, moonlight, and colored light, and may be programmed to react to any or all of these. Characters with dungeon experience might be able to spot the devices from a distance, noticing the glint of electrum before their torches trigger any spells.

    If the rune is physically wiped off the mirror, the stored spell is erased and a new one may be cast into it. The caster presets variables like spell range and direction.

    Example uses: An electrum mirror might be programmed to shoot a fireball down a corridor when exposed to torchlight. Another one might cast the illusion of a ghost when moonlight shines on it through a window. A third might react to any light by casting Mage Hand, pulling a nearby lever and opening a pit trap.

    the ha ha

    May 31st, 2013

    The ha-ha is a bizarre architectural feature common in ornamental gardens: it’s a ditch that’s designed to be nearly invisible from one side. Presumably it gets its name from the garden-owner’s reaction when visitors stumble into the ditch.

    In real life, ha-has are used to enclose livestock without breaking sight lines. In D&D, I presume that they’re a goblin invention. They’re named so because goblins find it so funny when human invaders fall into hidden pits.

    In one game I ran, I gave the PCs a goblin-drawn map of a dungeon. The hidden pits were all marked as “ha-ha.” However, goblins find so many other things funny: sharpened pendulums, poisoned meat, patches of green slime on a green carpet: and they note them all with various onomatopoeia for laughter. On a goblin map, treat “ha-ha,” “har-har”, “hee-hee”, or “lol” as “find an alternate route.”

    our ghouls and ghasts are not as good as the originals

    May 28th, 2013

    On a Wikipedia binge, I learned the origin of the D&D ghast: Lovecraft’s The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath. (I’ve read it before, but this detail never made an impression on me.)


    The ghasts are a race of fearsome humanoids. They are much larger than a man and have a vaguely human face, albeit missing a nose. Their skin is rough and knotty. Their senses are unusually acute; they can see in the dark and have a strong sense of smell. They hop about on a pair of hooved, kangaroo-like legs, and are swift, strong, and agile. They have also been described as lacking a forehead. Ghasts prefer to dwell in complete darkness and have no tolerance for natural light — sunlight will kill them instantly.

    That grotesque kangaroo-hopping detail is what gets me. Make these guys pack hunters who travel, say, twice as fast as the PCs, and, whether they’re chasing you across midnight plains or down pitch-black dungeon corridors, you’ve got a really creepy monster.

    D&D ghasts, on the other hand, are like ghouls but they smell bad. As far as I’m concerned, D&D ghasts now hop like kangaroos.

    Score: D&D 0, Lovecraft 1

    Ghouls, of course, are from Arabian folklore (the earliest mention is in the Arabian Nights). Arabian Nights ghuls act a lot like D&D ghouls: they hang out in graveyards, eat human flesh, etc. “The creature also preys on young children, drinks blood, steals coins, and eats the dead, then taking the form of the person most recently eaten.

    Ghouls were already one of my favorite D&D encounters, but this is the detail they’ve been missing. A shuffling pack of ghouls, each with the familiar face of their victims, partakes somewhat of the horror of doppelgangers and somewhat of zombie-movie zombies, but it has its own special something. This isn’t a “this zombie was once my buddy” pathos moment, or a “my buddy was a doppelganger all along” chills moment; this is a “this ghoul ate my buddy’s face, and now he’s wearing it” rage moment.

    In the past, I’ve had my ghoul-eaten PCs return as ghouls, but I think that from now on I’ll have the original ghouls take on the PCs’ appearances.

    Score: D&D 0, Arabian Nights 1

    en garde!

    May 23rd, 2013

    If I had been reading Strategic Review 1.4 in winter 1975, this ad would have caught my eye:

    EN GARDE! is Game Designers’ Workshop’s newest, and most unusual game. The 17th Century, with musketeers, and swordfights in the streets, comes alive as the 40 pages of rules, charts, and tables unfold. In EN GARDE! each player finds himself a person, born and bred for the swashbuckling life of a gentleman adventurer. Status is pursued above all else, even above money. Social climbing is a way of life. The world is inhabited by the likes of Scaramouche, Cyrano and Roxanne, Errol Flynn, Porthos, Athos, Aramis, Rhonda Fleming, Franco is Villon, and, of course, D’Artagnan. There are people to be used, lackies to be abused, the Cardinal’s Guard to be trounced, friends to be cultivated, enemies to be humiliated, the hearts of fair ladies to be won, the ear of the King to be gained!

    All you need to play EN GARDE! is a pencil, paper, a six-sided die, the EN GARDE! rule booklet, an adventurous imagination, and some friends. . . Rules cover a complete 17th Century society in some hypothetical country, (oh, call it France, if you like). Specific rules include a complete fencing system (to settle those disputes you may have), character generation, social climbing, money, carousing, mistresses, gambling, influence, the military, advancement, everything you need to live a full life, and enjoy every minute of it.

    Come with us to those bawdy, rowdy days of yore. . . Sharpen your blade. . . Sharpen your wits. . . Take care not to insult a small man with a large nose. . . All for one and one for all. . . Good luck, friend, and may your swash never buckle!

    EN GARDE! $4.00 ppd.

    I like the Three Musketeers milieu, and Scaramouche, Flynn, and the rest of them. (I had to look up Rhonda Fleming, and I’m still not sure why she was on the list.)

    The promise of rigorous rules for “social climbing, money, carousing, mistresses, gambling, influence, the military, advancement,” and “everything else” would have been enough to part me from my $4.00 ppd. It’s a lot to jam into 40 pages, though; my guess is that the En Garde rules are about as sketchy as the OD&D rules, or more so.

    Also of note: “40 pages of rules, charts, and tables.” This was a time when people made a selling point of the quantity of their charts and tables. RPG design has sure changed over 35 years.

    According to En Garde’s own wikipedia page, En Garde was mostly a play by mail game. I also noticed that Loren Wiseman was listed as one of the designers. That name was familiar to me, since I had just read it in the same 1975 issue of Strategic Review containing the En Garde ad, in this hilarious cartoon:

    Apparently En Garde is still around and in its fourth edition. It seems to be mostly a play by email/messageboard game. It’s fun to see this list of all the currently-running En Garde games, so similar to the Players Wanted sections in the 70’s game zines or the Strategic Review list of all the DMs looking for players. I’m kind of tempted to try one of the En Garde games out.

    unnamed Gygax and Grubb campaign setting

    May 20th, 2013

    This week, two exciting, unpublished TSR settings collided in my head to form a third setting.

    setting 1: Jeff Grubb project

    On the latest WOTC D&D podcast, Steve Winter talked about the great campaign-world books that came out of Second Edition D&D. He said that, for every kick-ass setting like Planescape or Al’Quadim, they had a bunch of ideas just as good – they just didn’t have time to print them all. Prompted, he described one of the settings that he’d never forgotten:

    There’s one that always comes to mind: it was proposed by Jeff Grubb, and I forget what the name of it was, but the idea was, it was a world where there were all these mountain ranges, and all of civilization – the good part of civilization – has been driven up to the tops of these mountains, and then there’s a tremendously thick cloud layer, so wherever the sun shines is where good exists. Everything beneath the cloud layer has been overrun by evil. There are cloud ships that sail out from these mountain-top cities across the clouds, and the adventurers rappel down to the world where they go raiding the ruined cities that used to be down there, looking for gold, metal, and all the kinds of things that they don’t have in these mountaintop cities.

    As Steve Winter says, that idea isn’t quite as fresh as it was in the late 80s (he’s seen elements in anime, and it reminds me of Final Fantasy) but I think it’s still an evocative and inspiring world. I’m ready to play it! But, since all we have is a podcast sound bite and not a campaign book, I’m left with a lot of questions: exactly what kind of evil lurks in the cloudy lowlands? What does the wilderness look like?

    setting 2: “The Original D&D Setting”

    Here’s the other great setting I read this week: The Original D&D Setting, a series of blog posts by Wayne Rossi. This teases out the weirdness that you get if you take the original OD&D books and play its assumptions to the hilt. Griffin-riding Arthurian knights wait inside sinister castles, swamps crawl with dinosaurs, there are Martian creatures in the desert, and undead shamble through cities.

    Wayne Rossi provides a “campaign map” of this strange wild land: James Mishler’s version of the Outdoor Survival map that Gygax used for his wilderness adventures. When I took a close look at it, I noticed that three areas had little snow-capped peaks – presumably impassable. That’s when the Steve Winter idea crash-landed into the setting. What if those white-capped peaks aren’t covered with snow, but shining with sunlight? What if they’re the only safe places in the setting, and the PCs descend from the mountains to explore the misty lands of Wilderness Survival?

    A couple of nice things happen when we combine these settings:

    getting lost

    Getting lost is a big deal in Wilderness Survival, and in the OD&D exploration rules. If you roll badly, you can end up wandering north when you think you’re going south. I’ve always wondered how getting lost by 180 degrees can happen on a sunny day, when you always know which ways East and West are. But suddenly, in this setting, it’s possible! Beneath the cloud cover, you can’t see the sun or the stars, and navigation is much harder than it is in a traditional outdoor adventure.

    cities

    Even if you’ve played a campaign on the classic Wilderness Survival map before, this setting inverts it. Usually, peaks are impassable and towns are your home base. Now, peaks are safe in a way that no valley village is. Cities will be places of horror: mockeries of safety.

    In OD&D, in a city encounter, 50% of the time you roll on the “men” subtable and 50% of the time you roll on the “undead” subtable. Even in straight OD&D, there are way more undead in cities than we’re used to from later adventure settings. It really makes sense in this below-the-clouds horror setting, where, as Steve Winter says, the ruined cities are the primary dungeons. Since it’s always cloudy, you’re never safe from sun-fearing undead like vampires. Maybe the cities are filled with vampire lords who keep humans (the “men” encounters) as their cattle; maybe anyone who dies down here becomes undead, so cities are amoung the most dangerous places in the world; maybe the cities are straight-up dungeons ruled by necromancers and evil high priests (who together form 1/6 of the encounters on the “men” subtable).

    Wayne points out that the arrangement of the cities is odd: there are five in a cross in the middle of the map, and the central one is in the forest. If we’re saying that ruined cities are the main dungeons of the settings, the central one, overgrown by eerie forest, is probably the scariest and most dangerous dungeon.

    castles

    Most OD&D castle encounters, with wizards and clerics who enslave you and high-level fighters who challenge you, fit squarely into Steve Winter’s description of the wilderness as “overrun by evil.” While cities are the megadungeons of the settings, castles might be the bite-sized minidungeons that the players can try to clear in a single adventure.

    Wayne Rossi makes the point that, according to the number of castles on the Wilderness Survival map and the castle-inhabitant charts, you’d expect three of the castles to be controlled by good clerics. I have my eye on the three castles in the mountain pass near the largest mountain peak area.

    Wayne suggests that these good clerics are all part of one holy order dedicated to recapturing the land from evil. This makes sense to me. We can say that, while the surface of the world is nearly overrun with evil, there is one little area where a holy order has a foothold. This is the likely starting point of the PCs’ adventures: these castles control the only safe way to ascend to the mountain peaks. From the southernmost castle, it’s only 4 hexes to the closest city. That will undoubtedly be the first dungeon that the PCs tackle.

    rivers

    OK, there’s something I haven’t figured out. According to OD&D, rivers are just swarming with buccaneers and pirates. Who are they preying on? Each other?

    Steve Winter said that cloud ships travel from mountain peak to mountain peak. Maybe the buccaneers and pirates are based on the river, but their ships can ascend to the clouds to attack cloud shipping. Maybe the pirates even have flying submarines.

    That said, if pirates can fly, why do they spend so much time on the river? Maybe someone can solve this for me.

    Another thing: there are a lot of flying monsters in the original OD&D encounter tables – dragons, griffins, chimerae. Can they threaten the mountain settlements and cloud ships, or are they confined to the lowlands?

    This week I’ll try to delve more into the implications of this setting.