Posts Tagged ‘everybook’

Leave it to Psmith: the D&D module

Friday, February 25th, 2011

Leave it to PsmithThe mannered country-house farces of PG Wodehouse don’t lend themselves very well to adaptation as D&D adventures because they rely on intricate, delicate plot, which is hard for a DM to sustain, and a very specific dialogue style, which is hard to pull off on the fly (and if you think you’re managing it, you just might be making yourself annoying).

The beautiful spun-sugar plot constructions might not be usable, but the general premise of a Wodehouse novel is very thematic to D&D: “Idiot or idiots get into hilarious mishaps through a series of misunderstandings, overcomplicated plans, and bad judgement calls.” This is a perfect description of PC activity whenever combat is not involved.

Leave it to Psmith relies on one plot device that is usable in a D&D game: mistaken identity. Psmith and two other characters all claim to be a poet named McTodd; one of the other two claimants is actually McTodd, and one is an American gangster.

Try offering this as a puzzle for the PCs. They’re instructed to, say, give a powerful item to a certain NPC named McTodd. They find two McTodds, each claiming that the other is the imposter.

The two NPCs both have fairly good knowledge of their role, and differentiate themselves mainly by their attitudes. McTodd 1 is sputtering and angry: “How dare this imposter speak to me in my own house!” McTodd 2 seems amused by the situation and speaks flippantly: “You say I am not McTodd? Well, perhaps I am not. I’ve been wrong before.”

Various knowledge checks provide conflicting results: McTodd 1 explains a sudden disinclination for cake as the effects of a recent illness; McTodd 2 seems to have forgotten some obscure detail of his own history.

The gimmick here is that the DM does not know which McTodd is the real one either. The DM is keeping track of two separate possibilities, but until the PCs concoct a plan that will absolutely solve the mystery, it is a case of Schrodinger’s McTodd. If another NPC corroborates one McTodd’s identity, that NPC exists in an indeterminate state as a honest man/villanous accomplice.

When the DM must finally pick a real McTodd, the choice is made by a die roll or coin flip.

Many players are very good at picking up on unconscious hints from the DM. Mysteries can be solved, not by the clues, but by the DM’s tone. If the DM doesn’t know the solution to the mystery, though, any such clues will be misleading.

two adventure ideas, one upside down

Friday, February 18th, 2011

I got one of those double books that is one novel on one side, and then you flip it upside down and there is another novel on the back!

Endless Shadow

No one would put the blame on her. But were you to blame Jacob Chen himself, a man who could punch a program of a million words into a computer?

-Endless Shadow by John Brunner

This is a crappy sci-fi book from the early 60s about how computer programmers run the transit system that keeps the galaxy together. Computer programmers are so smart that they are given any difficult job, including non-computer-related action-hero James Bond stuff. As a computer programmer myself, I find this highly unlikely.

Also, when Earth interacts with a new culture, they send a computer programmer, because their intelligence makes them uniquely insightful about the emotional states of others. As a computer programmer myself, I utter a single ringing bark of mirthless laughter.

This book was difficult to read, because I couldn’t figure out what was motivating everyone, because everyone’s motivations were derived from pop psychoanalysis. Everyone had a complex or whatever. There was also some sci fi stuff. There was a mystery, and it was solved when it turns out that someone had surgically given themselves devil horns! And that revealed what complex they had? or something?

There’s a tiny germ of a D&D idea here. Someone alters themselves to get tiefling attributes. Why? They must be trying to fool someone: either themselves, or the tieflings, or the non-tieflings (they’re trying to frame the tieflings), or the devils. If they’re trying to fool the devils, then either they are very dumb or the devils are very dumb.

Let’s expand the latter into a D&D mystery adventure. A supernatural disaster strikes the city! Legend has it that this type of disaster can only be caused by a tiefling calling on an ancient devil promise. The PCs must determine which of the handful of tieflings are the guilty one.

Except at the last minute, a human’s hat falls off and his horns are seen! It turns out he has magically given himself tiefling attributes in order to hoodwink the devils into killing his enemies. I guess we’d better make the guilty human young, so we can have met his parents and established his human pedigree.

OK, it’s not the best idea in the world, but this is not the most inspiring book.

solving puzzles with steel (not that way)

Friday, February 11th, 2011

Turning to the force field device, I inserted the blade of my sword into the beam emanating from both sides of the green-colored box.

-Warlord of Ghandor

The Earthling hero of Warlord of Ghandor (who, by the way, never seems to lead any armies; he seems to be about as much of a war leader as is the 4e Warlord class), who has found himself on an iron-poor planet, comes upon a force field generator. It can only be deactivated by putting a piece of that ultra-rare metal, “iron”, on both sides of it. The hero has one of the iron keys; lacking the other one, he uses his steel sword he brought from Earth!

Turning this into a D&D puzzle: a macguffin can only be activated (or deactivated) by placing objects of some rare metal in two places. Whatever the metal is, the players should have exactly one item of that type, preferably in use as a PC’s main weapon; for instance, if someone has a Cold Iron sword, then cold iron is required. (The item isn’t used up, by the way.)

The players need to find a second piece of cold iron – which may lead to some player-directed questing, giving the DM the opportunity to dangle a few adventure hooks with other pieces of cold iron as bait.

Or, if the PC’s think of it; if they don’t mind giving up a valuable resource; and if there is some urgency to the macguffin-activation, the cold-iron-armed PC can snap his sword in half and use the two pieces to complete the ritual.

I like this incident, culled from what is, on the whole, a fairly ordinary sword-and-planet novel. It’s a mini-puzzle, adventure hook generator, and resource management decision all rolled into one.

I’ve come up with four blog posts from this one book, so you might get the idea that Warlord of Ghandor is worth reading. Let me dispel that idea by quoting the following paragraph:

Mauve in color, the creature was a frightening sight!

The Warlord of Ghandor is stuck in a tree!

Friday, February 4th, 2011

Warlord of Ghandor

I was going around in circles inside the tree kingdom! Perhaps this structure in the trees was not empty of life after all. I began to feel that I was being deliberately led from one blindfall to another by someone opening and then closing off behind me one passageway after another.

This is the kind of old-school dungeoncrawling trick that a Gygax-style DM would use.

One reason it’s hard to pull off in recent-edition D&D is that it works best when PCs are mapping. Otherwise it’s harder to get that dawning realization that the PCs are being shepherded forward; you just come to a point when the PCs say, “We return the way we came,” and the DM says “You can’t.”

I’m in favor of the occasional mapping-based dungeon, although a little goes a long way. It does allow for a different suite of DM tricks.

Opening and closing doors in response to PC movement is one of the few ways monsters can frustrate PCs without getting themselves killed. Good for a mastermind-type villain. Be fair to the PCs though: at worst, the PCs should be shepherded into exciting danger, not trapped in a boring dead-end.

cities of Warlord of Ghandor

Friday, January 28th, 2011


This was not like the village of the Bomunga. It was of stone, with tall, tiered structures, ending in rounded tops. … this city was built of a corbeled architecture that all outside structures were built so each successive stone projected beyond the one below it. This gave the city a perfect defense as no human could scale such a wall.

This description of a sword-and-planet city, with out-tilting walls with rounded tops, reminds me of the way that a very, very small person would describe one of those sugar roses on birthday cakes.

icing rosesActually, a giant sugar rose would make a very attractive city. The pastel-pink walls would rise outwards. There would be separate, overlapping sections of walls, like petals. They wouldn’t touch, but between them would be a narrow corridor barred with a city gate.

Also, the book mentions breastworks. I’ve never been exactly sure what breastworks are, but it doesn’t matter, because even if I look it up, I can’t use “breastworks” as a D&D location because my players will snicker. But it got me thinking about how medieval builders added -works to things: it seems to denote a factory, with the added connotation that what was being made was a Work, capitalized. Adding -works onto fantasy words might be a fruitful way to make new locations that sound mechanized, sinister, and possibly slightly German (which might amount to the same thing.)

The Ghostworks.
The Boneworks.
The Soulworks.
The Bladeworks.
The Painworks.

What exactly goes on at the Painworks? I don’t know, but I bet its employees enjoy the music of Trent Rezner.

Warlord of Ghandor

Friday, January 21st, 2011


Looking upward I caught sight of one of the warriors being hauled upward into the trees above. A strange-appearing sinewy limb encircled him by the waist and was quickly pulling him upward. Before I could reach him, he was gone from sight, the foliage converging back into place covering the hole his body had made as it was dragged, struggling through it.

“Moga, what was it?” I yelled. “The feared Qouri,” he replied in hushed tones.

Warlord of Ghandor is a fairly awful Burroughs Princess of Mars pastiche, complete with the mystical planetary travel, low-gravity superhuman strength, and incomparable princess in distress.

Even the worst Burroughs book, however, usually features some unique monsters.

QOURI
level 7 lurker

The qouri lives in a tree nest 40 feet from the forest floor. Its tail drops down to seize passers by.

Move action: move tail tip up to 8 sq away. If an opponent is grabbed, it moves with the tail tip.
Attack action: grab opponent adjacent to tail tip. The grab is released if the tail takes 15 damage in one attack.
Free action: release grabbed opponent: usually in 3×3 nest. The quori is fixed in one corner of the nest. Anyone in the nest has superior cover from the forest floor.
Attack action: Lunge and bite one opponent in close burst 2.

Surprise: Any PC with less than 15 passive Perception or Nature will be surprised.

The quori likes to grab a single creature and pull him into his nest. Since the nest is 8 squares up, it will take most allies 3 move actions to climb up there. Meanwhile, the captured PC will have to fight alone. This will provide a different fight environment from normal.

Notice that moving the tail is a move action. Therefore, the only way that a PC can be whisked away without the tentacle being attacked is if the tail moves adjacent in the surprise round; wins initiative; successfully Grabs and moves to the nest on its turn.

Qouri can be encountered alone, but can also be encountered in a hive of up to 5 qouri who can all reach roughly the same area.

interrupting spells in 4e

Friday, January 14th, 2011

“He’s a dark elf wizard and he’s put some kind of hold on Derek!” Elistan cried. “Keep him from casting spells!”

-The Magic of Krynn (Dragonlance Tales, Volume 1)

Every D&D rule change comes with tradeoffs. In 4th edition, wizards were rebalanced. The advantage is that they are no longer overpowered compared to other classes. The disadvantage is that they are no longer overpowered compared to other classes.

I kind of miss the panic that set in when earlier-edition parties met a wizard, and all the maneuvering (by the party and the DM) to hit a wizard before he finishes his spell. However, honestly, 4th edition works perfectly well without it.

That’s not a reason to tinker with what ain’t broke, though. I’d like to try to return wizards to their place as fearsome super-artillery without overpowering them (much). Here’s my plan.

4e wizards may cast attack spells normally, or they may cast them as a “rite” (sort of halfway between an attack spell and a ritual, and analagous to 3rd edition spells with a full-round casting time). Casting a spell as a rite ends your turn and has no immediate effect.

On your next turn, you may finish the rite as a standard action. You cast the spell normally, except that any hit by the spell is a guaranteed critical hit.

During your casting of the spell, you are saying magic words, performing ritual gestures, and doing other wizardy things. If your concentration is broken, you lose the spell. Non-damaging forced movement, being knocked prone, being grabbed, etc. forces an Endurance check of 5 + 1/2 the attacker’s level to avoid breaking concentration. If damage is done to the wizard, the DC of the Endurance check is equal to the damage.

Is this option too underpowered (never used) or overpowered (always used)? It seems to me that it will be situational. Spending two turns to do slightly more than double damage starts out pretty balanced; if it’s successfully used with a daily power, it’s quite good indeed. However, if there is any chance of the rite being interrupted, it might be too risky to use it. Wizards might only use it when they’re in a position where they think they can avoid attack for a turn.

Rites might be used by the DM more often than they are used by PC wizards. A wizard who has begun a rite becomes a fearsome threat and may cause an abrupt change in the PCs’ tactics.

the elves of the ruins

Tuesday, December 28th, 2010

The Zimbabwe plateau is filled with monumental stone structures, built during the European medieval and renaissance period. Archaeologists don’t really know what people built them. In the 19th century, archaeologists found that the people currently living in the ruins didn’t know who had built them either, or what they were for. They had just moved into some empty ruins.

African Civilizations by Graham Connah

African Civilizations by Graham Connah

OK, so it would be cool to have a people living in and among the ruins of an unidentified higher civilization. Who should the current inhabitants be?

Old-school elves are surprisingly good candidates.
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the magic king

Friday, December 17th, 2010

I’ve mentioned before that in a D&D world, where magic works, we should trust ceremony. One ceremony I haven’t discussed yet is the anointing of a king. In Africa this was apparently very important: African Civilizations mentions that all the African civilizations studied in the book appear to use religious ideology to support the power of its ruling class. In some places in central Africa, kings were worshiped as recently as the 20th century.

African Civilizations by Graham Connah

African Civilizations by Graham Connah

D&D, and fantasy in general, tends to be deeply conservative, in that its heroes tend to be the type who support the status quo, or want to return a recent status quo. They oppose evil forces who want to change things for the worse. (Liberal fantasy would be, I guess, about educating the peasants or something: change would generally be regarded in a more positive light.)

Because fantasy is conservative, it idealizes the institution of kingship. The rules of monarchy have the power of natural law.

A king has a lot of political powers, but in a magical world, I think a king has some magical powers too.

a) A king’s blood is sacred. A subject who kills his rightful king will fall under a curse, probably for many generations.

b) A king has ritual powers. A king can perform “speech acts”: appointing people knights and nobles, and probably performing weddings and funerals, too, like the captain of a boat.

b) A king has healing powers. In medieval England, for instance, a king’s touch was supposed to cure tuberculosis. Between this and the ritual powers, a king basically has all the powers of a cleric. Makes sense, since if a king is not in the “leader” role, who is?

c) A king has powers related to national defense. Many kingdoms probably have some magic items or rituals usable only by the true king in defense of the kingdom. Excalibur comes to mind.

how to DJ your own funeral

Friday, December 10th, 2010

One type of common artifact found in the Zimbabwe ruins was “perforated clay disks”. Archaeologists believe they were spinning wheels, but “they could have other uses.”

African Civilizations by Graham Connah

African Civilizations by Graham Connah

If PCs found, among the ruins, a bunch of perforated clay disks, what interesting mystery could they pose? If the PCs find out that they’re spinning wheels, that will be kind of a dud mystery. Some magical or ritual significance is in order.

When you spin the disks, using some wood and string contraption (sold separately), the disks emit a ghostly wail. When spun at the right speed, they allow communication with the dead.

Why, then, are there so many of the disks, found all over the ruin? You’d think you’d only need a couple, probably found in the temple.

Perhaps every reasonably rich person has a personal clay disk made, which is keyed to the owner’s voice. After someone’s death, his or her loved ones can ask them important questions “Who killed you? Do you love me? Who gets the armoire?” for a few days before the person’s soul journeys on.

The people who lived in this ruin must have been really into ancestors and death. They’re starting to sound like dwarves. Yeah, gotta be dwarves.