play D&D with me right now!

October 8th, 2012

In April 2011, Mike Mearls did something cool with his “Legends and Lore” column. He intentionally misused the weekly poll software. Instead of asking “do you like the ideas in this column?” he asked “You stand at an intersection, with passages heading to the north, south, east, and west. Which way do you go?”

His crowd-sourced, poll-administered D&D game only lasted a few months, but it was a great idea. From now on, I propose that a play-by-poll D&D game be called a “Mearls”. I wrote some Mearls software, and I’ll be running a game this week (and maybe beyond).

D&D isn’t D&D unless it’s open-ended. Therefore, in this Mearls, there will be no pre-written choices. If you have an idea, you can suggest it. If people like it, they will vote for it. You can change your vote any time.

As the DM, I’ll advance the game two or three times each day. Join the game to get alerts!


Play!

the little sisters of the sun

October 5th, 2012

The Little Sisters of the Sun had caught one group on their mountain and sacrificed the lot, singing the Hymn of Life. Wild bands had eaten another group…
-Leigh Brackett, The Hounds of Skaith

Leigh Brackett can put a lot of horror into a few sentences. The Little Sisters of the Sun, mentioned here in passing, seem sinister enough to deserve their own D&D adventure.

Between the Little Sisters and the wild bands of cannibals, the environment from this passage seems even more dangerous than the average D&D countryside. The wild cannibals puts me in mind of an Oregon Trail journey gone wrong: perhaps my D&D continent has a frontier beyond which there are no patrolled countries or city walls. It’s a higher-level zone, perhaps recently re-discovered like Eberron’s Xen’drik, and its natives are twisted by post-apocalyptic magic. I assume that the Little Sisters of the Sun were, long ago, neutral good, and the tribes of cannibals are the remnants of civilized feudal peoples.

jane austen as a D&D player

October 2nd, 2012

When I invent a time machine, the obvious first application is to play D&D with my favorite 19th century writers.

If I were to DM a game for, say, Jane Austen (and I would like to! In fact, Jane Austen, I hereby extend to you a CHALLENGE to play at my table! YOU WILL HAVE FUN) I wouldn’t try to cobble together some 19th-century setting involving dance halls and drawing rooms. I also wouldn’t run a straight D&D game either. I’d play Al-Qadim.

Tolkien revolutionized the fantasy imagination, giving us the dwarves and elves that we now associate with fantasy. But there was been fantasy literature for a long time before there were hobbits.

In the English-speaking world, at least, the Lord of the Rings of the 18th century – the book that directed literary fantasy, juvenile escapist power fantasy, and the hunger for the exotic and sublime – was the 1001 Nights. When 18th and 19th century Europeans thought about evil wizards and magic rings, they also thought about djinni, flying mechanical horses, and trees that grew jewels like fruit. They were so hungry for fantasy that 1001 nights weren’t enough nights for them. They wrote their own “arabesques” – original fantasy literature using 1001 Nights trappings, much of it worse than the original.

Nowadays, rich nerds with too much money build castles. Then, rich nerds, like William Beckford, built arabesque mansions. William Beckford also wrote Vathek, an arabesque copping its style and themes from the 1001 Nights. In a way, William Beckford is the Richard Garriott of his day.

Here’s Charles Dickens talking about 1001 Nights:

Oh, now all common things become uncommon and enchanted to me. All lamps are wonderful; all rings are talismans. Common flower-pots are full of treasure, with a little earth scattered on top; trees are for Ali Baba to hide in; beef-steaks are to throw down into the Valley of Diamonds, that the precious stones may stick to them, and be carried by eagles to their nests, whence the traders, with loud cries, will scare them.

That sounds to me like guy who is going to FREAK OUT the first time he plays D&D and the DM announces that he found a magic ring. OK, Charles, you’re in the group.

OK, so here are the guys I’d invite to my game table:

  • Charles Dickens (he’d be a player with a sense of wonder who’d get deeply invested in the story. He’d probably play a bard or something.)
  • C. S. Lewis (When he was a kid, he and his brother made up a pre-Narnia magical fantasy land for which they wrote complex histories. Later, he said, “Most of us, I suppose, have a secret country but for most of us it is only an imaginary country.” He’d probably want to DM.)
  • I’d fill up the table with as many Bronte sisters as possible (they also made up a fantasy land that they all wrote about, in which each sibling controlled a specific character. They even used minis. They’d probably be super dramatic and hog lots of time in the spotlight.)
  • Jane Austen (She’d play a chaotic neutral rogue and probably would steal from the Brontes.)

    What celebrities/historical figures/fictional figures would you guys play with?

  • world details from the Sword and the Satchel

    September 28th, 2012

    Elizabeth Boyer’s 1980 The Sword and the Satchel, a Scandinavian-mythology fantasy, is a story of a fighter with a magic sword and a wizard with a bag of holding. It has a couple more D&D moves worth pillaging:

    The frost giants… shouldered their cudgels and passed swiftly, uprooting a few trees for practice. Their glancing eyes filled the air with snow and their breath was like the coldest night in deepest winter.

    This is a beautiful detail: just as snow at night is often only visible under streetlights, there are flurries of snow in a frost giant’s cone of vision. It’s also a useful signal for PCs who are trying to sneak by a frost giant and want to know if they’re unseen. Except if it’s actually snowing. Then they’re screwed.

    “A real lingorm!” Kilgore puffed. “Do they really get bigger with every bit of gold they have, or is that an old wives’ tale?” “Old wives aren’t so misinformed,” the wizard retorted.

    In D&D, there is a correlation between dragon size/HD and treasure size. It would be interesting if there were causation as well. It would make dragons’ greed for treasure make more sense. It would also explain why Smaug freaked out when Bilbo stole that golden cup. That theft made Smaug diminish, just a little. (Maybe the missing cup caused the missing scale over Smaug’s heart?)

    If it seems too extreme for all dragons to get this lore, you could give it just to metallic dragons: a silver dragon’s size is based on the amount of silver she has amassed, for instance. In this case, copper dragons would be totally safe. No one wants their hoard of a million copper pieces.

    Three horsemen were riding up the side of the barrow toward a flickering blue light at the top. Kilgore strained his eye against the crack to see better, his heart suddenly thudding. From the ancient folklore of his people, he knew a blue light in a barrow mound meant there was treasure inside.

    I don’t know enough about Scandinavian folklore – is this a thing? Whether it is or not, it seems cool.

    I wouldn’t automatically put a visible blue light in every dungeon. I might turn this into a spell: someone using some sort of Detect Treasure spell might be able to see the blue glow that let them know this dungeon was worth exploring. It might even be a free-to-cast ritual known to all sorts of adventurous people.

    a place for cloud giants

    September 26th, 2012

    The latest D&D articles from Wizards solved a problem for me. A giant problem.

    This week, James Wyatt and Jon Schindehette are talking about 5e giants. The new giants cleave pretty close to D&D tradition, which reminds me that I’ve always had a bit of difficulty with traditional D&D giants in my campaign world.

    When I’m making an adventure, I rarely think, “this would be a great place for (say) fire giants.” However, I often think, “This would be a great place for giants.” The elemental subtypes don’t help me tell my story: the giants in my campaign world are basically big, strong humans. They’re handsome in a cruel way. They’re smart, cultured, and they once ruled the world. Over the centuries, they’ve been pushed back by the little people, and they now rule only in the mountains.

    Of the six D&D giants (hill, stone, frost, fire, cloud, and storm), none really matched my vision for giants. Therefore, when combat with giants came up in my 3e and 4e games, I usually made up a generic on-the-fly monster with high HP and damage, whose attacks sent people flying.

    In my last giant-themed adventure, which I ran a month or so ago, I emphasized the high society of the giants: I mentioned that they wore silks, went hawking, and served noble feasts. Therefore, I was drawn to James Wyatt’s description of cloud giants: “Cloud giants are cultured and refined, collecting fine art and exquisite treasures in their mountaintop or cloud-built castles. They dress in rare silks and wear elaborate jewelry, and they enjoy gourmet food and sophisticated music.” It turns out that my giants are cloud giants!

    That brings me to the other minor problem I have with the six D&D giants: cloud giants and storm giants are insufficiently distinct. They both live in the clouds and do cloud magic. According to Wyatt, cloud giants “mimic some of the magic inherent to the storm giants: controlling weather, bringing storms, and steering wind.”

    Cloud giants don’t really have a big enough chunk of conceptual real estate to stand on. That’s probably why, in all my years of playing D&D, as a player or DM, I’ve never encountered a cloud giant. However, stripped of their unnecessarily duplicative cloud schtick, they can fill the vacant “generic giant” role.

    So here’s how I’m going to arrange the giants in my own campaign:

    There will be two common types of giants: hill giants (who fulfill an important purpose as the dumb, uncivilized, low-level giant) and cloud giants (the smart, civilized, high-level giant), who I’ll rename “mountain giants”. Those two races are the typical giants: the ones that commonly pose a threat to civilization. The other giants (fire, stone, frost, and storm) are exotic creatures who usually live far from civilization: in volcanoes, on inaccessible peaks, in the frozen north, and on clouds.

    My 2010 Suggestions for Fifth Edition

    September 24th, 2012

    Looking through my old D&D notes, I found a few sentences I wrote in 2010 under the heading “Suggestions for Fifth Edition”. This was well before the D&D Next announcement: it was based on my reaction to Fourth Edition and how I’d like the developers to improve it in some hypothetical new edition.

    How does the 5e playtest compare to my 2010 wishlist?

    1) “Minor action” and “move action” are very descripive and easy to remember for new players. On the other hand, “Standard action” is almost meaningless. Change the name “standard action” to major action

    2) “Combat Advantage” is clumsy. It’s a 5-syllable mouthful that you have to say a million times every session. It could be replaced with the term “on guard”. “Grants combat advantage” can be replaced with “off guard”.

    My “Move/Minor/Major” suggestion was really just a gripe about the bizarre 3e name “Standard Action.” 5e uses the pared-down terms “Move” and “Action”, and ditches the minor action altogether. They extend the term “advantage” to a whole subsystem which goes way beyond my cute little nomenclature.

    Either way, 5e is addressing my underlying problem here: it’s paring away some arbitrary and unnecessarily technical terms, and making things easier to explain to new players.

    Did I get what I wanted? Yes!

    3) Reduce analysis paralysis during combat and character creation. Feats and powers grouped in kits?

    When I wrote this, I was imagining something like a “berserker” kit, which would be a bucket of feats and melee powers: Power Attack, for instance, might be a feat available only to berserker-themed characters. A single character might only have one or two kits. At character creation, rather than looking through, say, 200 feats, you’d instead have to look through 20 kits, and then 10 feats within your chosen kit (30 decisions instead of 200 decisions). Furthermore, this would reduce the number of bizarre corner-case combos that can lead to broken builds.

    This is basically how the 5e “theme” or “specialty” system works, in essence and in detail. “Powers” are gone from 5e, but 5e feats are more like 4e powers anyway.

    Did I get what I wanted? Yes!

    4) Separation between combat and noncombat

    I expanded this idea into a 2010 blog post. I didn’t like the fact that D&D throws combat feats, like Weapon Focus, into the same feat-choice slot as non-combat feats, like Improved Diplomacy. 4e made an attempt to separate direct-damage powers from “utility” powers, but it didn’t end up doing what I wanted, because most utility powers were combat powers anyway. I’d rather have more non-combat powers, siloed out from the combat powers. I’d like this division extended to feats as well.

    5e is planning to address more attention to non-combat activities, “exploration and interaction,” but they’re not doing what I hoped, having the non-combat pieces of the game fed by different resources. My experience is that combat options are like kudzu that chokes out rival options, but I’m willing to be proven wrong.

    Did I get what I wanted? No!

    That’s all I wrote down in my notes, but I also have a few old blog posts with more pre-Next suggestions for 5e. Let’s see how they stack up:

    Lose shift and opportunity attack

    I suggested that fighters lose the Marked ability; the Shift action be removed; and opportunity attacks go away. Furthermore, the fighter class should be given opportunity attacks as a class feature.

    The first 5e playtest packet actually met these goals (except giving fighters extra stickiness). In the second playtest packet, things moved backwards a little bit: opportunity attacks returned. I guess my ideas didn’t pass the playtest test.

    Did I get what I wanted? For a while!

    Let’s drop the 4e level bonus!

    In this 2010 blog post, I pre-invented “bounded accuracy”. I suggested that AC, attacks, and other bonuses shouldn’t get 1 point every 2 levels. The reason monsters and characters should get tougher is because they get more HP and do more damage. Furthermore, I suggested that skills could now have fixed DCs.

    This change is being made in 5e, and it’s one of the changes I’m most excited about.

    Did I get what I wanted? Yes!

    My “suggestions about 5e” are, more or less, gripes about 4e. My 2010 vision of 5e was a new, improved version of 4e.

    It seems that we’re getting something a little different. I’m not quite sure what it is yet, but it’s making more ambitious changes than the ones I suggested. My guess was that 5e was going to be an overhaul of the 4e chassis (more like the change between 1st and 2nd edition), and instead it looks like it’s going to be a new machine (more like the change between 2nd and 3rd).

    On the whole, it looks like I’m seeing more Yes than No on my 5e suggestions. I’m getting what I wished for. Let’s hope I like it.

    tenth-level cleric spells from The Faerie Queene

    September 21st, 2012

    I’ve already plugged Spenser’s amazing 16th-century D&D poem The Faerie Queene.

    It’s a pretty decent campaign setting. It already includes most of the D&D races: humans, of course; elves (the main character of book 1 is an elf knight); and dwarves (the dwarves are of the “let the dwarf mount the battlement and give signal on his trumpet!” variety, but you can fudge it). No halflings, sadly.

    It also features the four big character classes: fighters and knights and paladins of all kind; a “guilefull great Enchaunter” with “magick bookes and artes”; “a stout and sturdy thiefe”; and clerics.

    Here’s a description of Fidelia, the highest-level cleric in the setting:

    And that her sacred Booke, with blood ywrit,
    That none could read, except she did them teach,
    She unto him disclosed every whit,
    And heavenly documents thereout did preach,
    That weaker wit of man could never reach,
    Of God, of grace, of justice, of free will,
    That wonder was to heare her goodly speach:
    For she was able with her words to kill,
    And raise againe to life the hart that she did thrill.

    And when she list poure out her larger spright,
    She would commaund the hastie Sunne to stay,
    Or backward turne his course from heavens hight;
    Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay;
    Dry-shod to passe she parts the flouds in tway;
    And eke huge mountaines from their native seat
    She would commaund, themselves to beare away,
    And throw in raging sea with roaring threat.
    Almightie God her gave such powre, and puissaunce great.

    So what do we have here?

    First of all, clerics use spellbooks in this setting, and although Fidelia is Good, her spellbook is written in blood. Bad Ass.

    “She was able with her words to kill / And raise againe to life”. She can case Raise Dead, and its reverse Finger of Death.

    “Dry-shod to passe she parts the flouds in tway”: This spell is called Control Water, according to the third-edition d20srd.org.

    “Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay;” Fear? Cause Fear? Some sort of epic-level version, like Mass Cause Fear? Note the “sometimes”; clearly the spell has a saving throw.

    “She would commaund the hastie Sunne to stay, Or backward turne his course from heavens hight;” Now we’re talking. Either she can stop and even reverse time, or she can command the sun itself. Either way, that sounds more powerful than the most powerful 9th-level spell (Time Stop only lasts 1d4+1 rounds, not long enough to notice an effect on the sun). We’ll call this a 10th level spell.

    “And eke huge mountaines from their native seat She would commaund, themselves to beare away, And throw in raging sea with roaring threat.” This is a super-epic version of the 6th level spell Move Earth (which is much weaker: it has a maximum area of 750 feet on a side, and notes that “in no event can rock formations be collapsed or moved”). Since this spell can throw huge mountains around, it is clearly also a 10th-level spell.

    There’s a slight possibility that Spenser meant this section as a religious allegory (“faith can move mountains”, etc) and not specifically as D&D spell list for an epic cleric. In my opinion, though, it’s both!

    the cycle of repudiation and reclamation, and the 2nd coming of 2nd edition

    September 18th, 2012

    Here’s why 2nd edition is due to make a comeback.

    For a long time, Original D&D was largely forgotten. Some people never stopped playing it, of course; that’s a given with any version of D&D. But it wasn’t a part of the public conversation about D&D. It was reclaimed in the 2000s by bloggers like Philotemy Jurament, whose analyses helped a lot of people realize how they had undervalued the OD&D game.

    Nowadays on the Internet, the “Old School Renaissance” is a big thing. Most Old Schoolers revere the Original White Box game above all, although the early basic sets by Holmes and Moldvay come in for a lot of love. James Mal of Grognardia calls the White Box/Holmes/Moldvay period the Golden Age of D&D. The post-Gygax TSR period is generally ignored or dismissed: according to James Mal, the mid-to late-80’s is D&D’s Silver Age, and the 90s the Bronze Age. Of course, there are people still playing Second Edition, Dragonlance, Planescape, Spelljammer, and other products of the Silver and Bronze Age, but they don’t have the same control over the public conversation.

    Reclamation occurs when someone rediscovers the value of something that’s usually ignored or sneered at. Right now, late-TSR D&D is the most undervalued property on the D&D Monopoly board. Today’s Edition Wars are fought primarily between the OSR, Pathfinder (3e) and 4e fans. The 2e supporter doesn’t have nearly as loud a voice.

    I believe their day is coming. I predict that, within two years, some blogger will come along and express, with the persuasiveness of a Philotomy Juramont or James Mal, what was so special about the story-based, Elmister-infested, roleplaying-over-rollplaying Silver and Bronze Ages of D&D. We’ll learn why Spelljammer was actually awesome. THAC0 will stop being a punchline. People like Zeb Cook and Douglas Niles will finally get some praise for carrying the D&D banner for a while.

    A hitherto silent piece of the D&D population will have a voice, and people who fondly remember the gaming 80s – and new converts – will flock to the 2e banner. They’ll have a movement.

    I’m not the blogger who is going to bring that about. I wasn’t playing D&D during the 2e period, and I can’t even imagine the arguments that will make 2e sound like the Best Edition Ever. But the cycle of repudiation and reclamation is inevitable in literature, political science, high fashion, and in D&D too. I think there’s a mass of 80s and 90s D&D game material that’s waiting to be re-appreciated.

    (By the way: I know that there are a lot of people currently playing 2e. I’m proposing that it’s currently undervalued, not that it’s unvalued.)

    5 Metal Scenes From The Faerie Queene

    September 14th, 2012

    A while ago, my wife’s English PhD friends decided to run a D&D game based on Spencer’s The Faerie Queene, an Elizabethan epic poem that I’d never read.

    I’m game for any D&D going, so I agreed to play. I didn’t want to be behind everyone else on understanding the setting, so I read the first book.

    I’d heard that The Faerie Queene is long: it’s one of the longest poems ever. And it was written in the 1500s, AND Spenser was being deliberately archaic, so it’s sometimes hard to read.

    Those are some of the reasons I never read it. Now here are some reasons you should read it: It’s super metal. You could use it to illustrate an entire 1980’s worth of heavy metal album covers. And it’s super D&D. It reads a little like Spenser was putting the adventures of his 1590’s D&D game into pentameter and dedicating it to Queen Elizabeth.

    Here are 5 metal scenes you could steal for your D&D game. I’ve only pillaged Book 1.

    The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide,
    But forth unto the darksome hole he went,
    And looked in: his glistring armor made
    A litle glooming light, much like a shade,
    By which he saw the ugly monster plaine,
    Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide,
    But th’other halfe did womans shape retaine,
    Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.
    And as she lay upon the durtie ground,
    Her huge long taile her den all overspred,
    Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound,
    Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred
    A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed,
    Sucking upon her poisnous dugs, each one
    Of sundry shapes, yet all ill favored:
    Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone,
    Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone.

    This is maybe too metal for D&D! Not every group is ready for all the horrible little monsters drinking poison from the snake-woman’s breasts, and then the monsters scuttle into her mouth.

    And next to him malicious Envie rode,
    Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw
    Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode,
    That all the poison ran about his chaw;

    All in a kirtle of discolourd say
    He clothed was, ypainted full of eyes;
    And in his bosome secretly there lay
    An hatefull Snake, the which his taile uptyes
    In many folds, and mortall sting implyes.
    Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth, to see
    Those heapes of gold with griple Covetyse;
    And grudged at the great felicitie
    Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companie.

    Each of the seven deadly sins are warlords in the army of Spencer’s Big Bad Evil Guy. My favorite is Envy. He rides a wolf, and chews a poison toad! Like most of the poem, it’s all transparent allegory, but if it’s read literally, it’s awesome.

    The most metal detail? The BBEG that the seven evil warlords serve is named Lucifera.

    Then tooke that Squire an horne of bugle small.
    Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold
    And tassels gay. Wyde wonders over all
    Of that same hornes great vertues weren told,
    Which had approved bene in uses manifold.
    Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd,
    But trembling feare did feel in every vaine;
    Three miles it might be easie heard around,
    And Ecchoes three answerd it selfe againe:
    No false enchauntment, nor deceiptfull traine,
    Might once abide the terror of that blast,
    But presently was voide and wholly vaine:
    No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast,
    But with that percing noise flew open quite, or brast.

    This is a pretty good magic item! When it’s blown, this horn has the following effects:
    1) Cause Fear
    2) Dispel Magic
    3) Knock

    Plus it has a range of three miles!

    But ere he could his armour on him dight,
    Or get his shield, his monstrous enimy
    With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight,
    An hideous Geant, horrible and hye,
    That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye,
    The ground eke groned under him for dreed;
    His living like saw never living eye,
    Ne durst behold: his stature did exceed
    The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed.

    …his stalking steps are stayde
    Upon a snaggy Oke, which he had torne
    Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made
    His mortall mace, wherewith his foeman he dismayde.

    …The Geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse,
    That could have overthrowne a stony towre,
    And were not heavenly grace, that did him blesse,
    He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre:
    But he was wary of that deadly stowre,
    And lightly lept from underneath the blow:
    Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre,
    That with the wind it did him overthrow,
    And all his sences stound, that still he lay full low.

    I love this fight against a giant. The giant is, like, 18 feet tall. That’s a serious giant: the same size as a cloud giant, according to the SRD. I like that he tore up an oak to be “his mortall mace”.

    The giant strikes hard enough that, if he’d hit, he would have beat his opponent as thin as flour. That matches my group’s gory descriptions of critical overkills, which frequently turn goblins into thin red pastes or red mists, and makes me think that Spenser would fit in at my game table.

    Finally: The giant’s attack knocks ther hero prone, and stuns him, ON A MISS? Killer DM!

    There all within full rich arrayd he found,
    With royall arras and resplendent gold.
    And did with store of every thing abound,
    That greatest Princes presence might behold.
    But all the floore (too filthy to be told)
    With bloud of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew,
    Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold,
    Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew,
    And sacred ashes over it was strowed new.

    This is a great description of an evil castle. It’s a super civilized palace, all decorated with gold and art and beautiful tapestries, but the floors are just swimming with blood and gore, all the time. This is a really creepy location.

    buy Paul’s Dungeon Master Notebook as PDF

    September 13th, 2012

    In case you missed the Random Dungeon kickstarter but would still like to play D&D like Paul does, I put a PDF version of Paul’s Dungeon Master Notebook up on RPGNow. 64 pages, $4.50. Edition agnostic, low to high level play, lavishly illustrated, yada yada.